Title: And Behind Curtain Number One...
Author: KMS!
EMAIL: <Kmspider@aol.com>
RATING: PG-13
Classification: V & H
Spoilers: None.
Archive: MKRA=yes, Gossamer=yes
Keywords: Mulder/Krycek; Curtains
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Can't afford to buy 'em. Characters lovingly borrowed from Carter/1013/Fox.
Summary: Mulder and Krycek go shopping for curtains.
Note: From The AD's Office: New Writer's chat

<_Te_> I think that a lot of violence can be excused by looking at canon. Rape, snuff, anything and everything is far more plausible than M&K going shopping for curtains.

<_Torch_> The Curtain Challenge. Write a curtain-shopping story that *isn't* schmoop. Can it be done?


And Behind Curtain Number One...
By KMS!
Kmspider@aol.com

Mulder wandered around the gauzy displays wondering why he'd ever agreed to this. He really should think about having himself committed. After all, who in their right mind would think about shopping for curtains with Alex Krycek; traitor, thief, murderer, saboteur and general pain in the ass. But Home Decorator? Ya'right! If he called Scully, he could probably get those commitment papers filled out and signed by the end of the day.

Mulder sighed.

Efficiency did have its drawbacks.

He shrugged off the gloomy thoughts and got back to the matter at hand. Curtains. Shopping for curtains. Mulder grimaced. This was supposed to be one of those jobs that mothers did for their single sons. Or landlords. Though, if his landlord had to fork over any more money for unexpected but necessary repairs to Mulder's apartment, he would probably be receiving an eviction notice by the end of the week. Then again, he wouldn't need an apartment when they moved him to the sanitarium. And they probably already had curtains on the windows. Except those little observation ones in the doors.

Buck up, Mulder! It's only curtains for the kitchen. Yeah, but it's the fact that he needed to replace them. Those kinds of things are supposed to last until you moved away from them. Like to another apartment.

They do, another little voice in his head pointed out, unless the old ones are pulled off the rod and get burned to cinders on the stove because you and your lover can't wait to get into the bedroom.

Oh. Yeah.

At least the fire hadn't spread. And the neighbors across the street had gotten an eye-full, watching two naked men dance around the room, trying to put out a kitchen fire and not do any damage to their (and here he mentally cleared his throat) *personal* eggbeaters.

Mulder passed down the aisles, fingering curtains as he went, until he almost tripped over a pair of booted feet sticking out beneath the hem of one floral print drape.

"Hey, baby. Care to check out my sheers?" a husky-voiced drapery addressed him.

Mulder felt a groan escape as the drape reached out and groped him.

"Can I help you?"

Mulder's eyes snapped open to see a bemused clerk standing before him.

He coughed delicately, ignoring the drapery chuckling in his ear, and smiled brightly at her. "Yes, I'm looking for curtains." 'Duh! And in a drapery store, too!' the interior voice taunted again. Very smooth.

"Drapes?" she asked, in a clerkish way.

"Ah... for the kitchen."

"Oh. Curtains. Over here, sir."

Mulder elbowed the drape as he passed, satisfied when it ooffed back at him, and followed the girl down the aisle.

She was speaking and if he paid the least amount of attention, he would have learned the difference between and a valance and a... a... what the heck had she said?

His only reference to curtains was a medieval one. The part of a rampart or parapet connecting two bastions or gates. Not much help here. Oxford wasn't good for everything. No practical application.

Mulder nodded to the little clerk as she warmed up to her subject, ad nauseam, oblivious to the glaze that was creeping into Mulder's eyes.

But his attention snapped back when he noticed a leather clad figure over her shoulder. A figure that had lowered a rod and curtain display over the lower half of his body. Alex jiggled the curtain suggestively and Mulder bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. He turned his attention back to (he peered owlishly at her nametag) Doris, praying she wouldn't turn around. He nodded enthusiastically at her and she plunged on.

Mulder peeked past her again and felt his eyes widen. Alex had undone his zipper and his hips were thrusting an excited penis between the folds of the drapes.

Seeing his expression, the clerk started to turn, but Mulder placed an intimate hand on her arm and asked her to explain why he would need two rods for these types of curtains.

The girl's eyes brightened. She drew him over to the display of hanging rods and proceeded to regale him with the wonders of modern drapery systems.

Mulder glanced back to see that Alex had the rod resting on the small of his back and was opening and closing the cotton curtains with a magician's flourish. Over his bare buttocks. Oh my.

Mulder felt a grin tug at him, even as his cock hardened. He moved slightly behind Mary... Dottie... Doris(!), hoping to block her view of his exhibitionist lover and asked what size he would need. 'About twelve inches ought to do the job,' he internally supplied his own answer.

"How big is the window?"

Mulder resisted the urge to form an 'O' with his thumb and forefinger, instead spreading his arms wide, visually measuring the window against the last time he had stood in front of it.

Of course, he was measuring the spread against the last time he had been clutching the window frame while Alex ground his cock into his body. Okay. Okay. Don't think about Alex.

Mulder glared over his shoulder again, seeing Alex's cock doing a peek-a- boo dance with the curtain.

"That's about thirty-four inches," Dora... Doreen... Doris(!) said.

"Thirty-four inches!" Mulder exclaimed at the outrageously over-generous estimate -- before he realized that she wasn't talking about Alex.

Ester... Dallas...Doris'(!) eyes narrowed and she nodded.

"Oh. Okay." He might find more creative ways to use those rods if Alex didn't start to behave himself. Like for a beating stick.

"Have you thought of a color?" Shirley... Dewey...Doris(!) inquired.

"Blue," Mulder blurted, almost adding 'balls.'

"Is that the color scheme in your kitchen?"

"It's mostly white. White on white. Except for a few orange spaghetti splatters." And the occasional off-white tone provided by misspent cum-shots. He would really have to take some time and thoroughly clean his kitchen, privately wondering how he would remove the stains on the ceiling. Then again, the thought of a naked Krycek, on his knees, scrubbing the floor might be fun. Though it wasn't helping the bulge in his jeans go down any. And damn it, Alex was supposed to be helping, not hindering this shopping trip.

Mulder glanced around again. Where the hell had that little rat bastard gotten to this time, he wondered affectionately. Alex had disappeared, but Mulder thought he had seen a suspicious bulge among the sheer curtains' display. Then again, all of Alex's bulges were suspicious.

Carla... Donna... Doris(!) had extracted the correct length rods from the precarious pile (amazing Mulder in the process when the whole display stayed in place), shoving them into Mulder's hands before turning back to the cafe curtains' display.

Mulder tested them for dueling purposes, then lowered them, tip-end, to the ground as Phyllis... Domino... Doris(!) glanced back at him. When she turned away, he mimed skiing motions.

She snagged a pre-packaged set of white-roses-on--slate-blue-background curtains off the shelf and headed for the checkout counter. Mulder obediently followed her, but only got two feet before he felt something smack him in the butt.

Whack!

He whirled around and spotted a golden drapery rod blatantly sticking out of the sheer drapes, and a dark shadow hidden among them.

Giggling.

He raised one rod and lunged forward. Oxford fencing club, yeah!

The drapery squeaked (Hamlet would have been proud), and Mulder smirked until he saw the clerk staring at him. He collected himself and moved to join her.

The clerk held her hand out and gathered the rods from him with a reproving look, (reminding him of Mrs. Beazer, his first grade teacher, when she confiscated his squirt gun), while he got out his wallet.

He felt a nudge against his ass and choose to ignore it. It pushed harder, making him stumble a little, but he refused to give Alex the satisfaction of reacting, so he just leaned against the chest-high counter.

The unidentified object pushed one last time and he braced his legs apart for balance.

"Check or credit card?"

Mulder pushed the plastic at her with a smile. A smile that faded as he felt the object (a curtain rod, he was sure) slide down the crack of his ass and slipped between his legs. His grip tightened on the counter as the rod gently tap-tap-tapped against his denim-clad testicles.

He gave a whimper, which he covered with a cough when Dolly... Doritto... Doris(!) looked up.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Mulder straightened, crossing his long legs and trapping the rod between them. "No. Thank you. That'll be all today."

The rod pulled back, moving his hips in the process, and then gently stroked forward again. Oh, he was definitely going to have to kill Alex now. He reached back to grab the rod but it abruptly pulled away. He glanced behind him and jerked a finger at Alex, then pointed it to the floor beside him. The universal sign that every kid knew. It meant your mom wanted you at her side -- *this instant*.

The rod nudged him in the hip once more before disappearing.

Alice... Dublin... Doris(!) finished ringing up his purchases, handing him back his card, and he headed for the door. Alex could find his own way home.

Mulder had almost made it to the exit, but he couldn't resist the urge to give one last glance around the store, seeking his erstwhile lover. And stopped dead in his tracks. There was Alex, in the display window, obviously naked, draped in swaths of lacy, see-though curtains and standing, one arm raised and clutching a curtain rod; the other hand holding a plastic-wrapped valance to his side. Mulder drew in a sharp breath. Oh my. Scarlet O'Hare? No, Statue of Liberty! Mulder looked closely. Alex had used those twisted-needle, curtain-hanger things and (with the help of a golden velvet curtain tie-back) had made a crown, too.

The truth was he looked quite stunning.

But *jeeze*.

He had a choice, he could go or stay.

Mulder headed for the door, shaking his head and hoping Alex wouldn't embarrass him before he could drive away. Or get himself arrested for indecent exposure. He pushed out the exit and didn't allow himself to look back until he reached the car.

Miss Liberty was gone. Mulder sighed in relief and shook his head. Curtains might not be the only thing that would be hung tonight.

Well hung.

*************

Note: I guess you were right, Ladies. It can't be done without schmoop. (KMS! Giggling to herself and running away to hide in the drapes.) "Hey, there's *rats* in here! Cool!"

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Comments to:
Kmspider@aol.com
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