The doorbell rang again, and Mulder rolled his eyes, then checked his watch. It was late now, and the amount of children coming for candy on this, the dentist’s favorite holiday, had dried up to almost nothing by now. He reached for the bowl of candy on the coffee table and discovered only one small box of raisins looking lonely at the bottom of the bowl. He glanced at the stack of candy wrappers next to the bowl guiltily for a moment, then snatched up the raisins and approached the door, muttering, “ya snooze, ya lose.”

He flung open the door, already looking apologetic for the meager donation he was about to bestow, and hoped there wasn’t more than one trick or treater on his doorstep.

There wasn’t.

The ghost was tall, almost as tall as Mulder himself. The white sheet seemed to glow under the dim front door light, and by contrast, the two holes cut out for eyes seemed deeper and blacker.

On one side, an arm held out the sheet. The cool autumn breeze billowed the material around the arm. At the end of this stiffly held appendage, a plastic pumpkin hung from a black-gloved hand, swinging gently in the same breeze. The ghost hadn’t been canvassing many houses apparently—the little pumpkin held nothing in it.

The other side of the ghost lay unnaturally flat from the top of the head to the ground, where the sheet ended pooled around the toes of black military boots poking out from the front of it.

Mulder suspected there was only one one-armed ghost out tonight, and subsequently, only one one-armed ghost who would choose to haunt his doorstep. He grinned and thought he saw a gleam deep in the eyeholes of the ghost in response.

“What did you get for Halloween, Charlie Brown?”

Krycek didn’t reply. He stepped forward instead, still holding the plastic pumpkin out in front of him. Mulder was forced to backpedal. He thought briefly of trying to contain his lover, then found himself sniggering at the sheet with the eyeholes cut in it, and he moved back instead, wondering what the man had in mind.

Krycek moved faster, Mulder retreated quicker, realized too late that he was being herded in the direction of the overstuffed easy chair in the corner, and then promptly fell into it in an untidy heap. The soft cushions swallowed him and he struggled to sit up properly.

“Okay, very funny. Is this the trick part of this game? You couldn’t just sing a song for your candy bar, or what?”

Krycek’s reply was to toss the pumpkin aside and fall to his knees in front of Mulder so quickly that the sheet billowed up as he landed, and came floating back down to drape not just over his head, but over Mulder’s lap as well. When Mulder reached for the sheet, Krycek’s hand snaked out from under it to slap his away, then disappeared back into the makeshift tent. Mulder’s second attempt was aborted suddenly as he felt Krycek’s hand brush over his groin, and sparks of desire zipped through him. His jeans suddenly felt too tight, in a throbbing itching way that wasn’t completely uncomfortable.

“Alex…” he groaned.

Under the sheet, Krycek busied himself with the buttons of Mulder’s jeans, a task that he had never really mastered one-handed. He had discovered over the course of his affair with Mulder, though, that bringing his mouth into play helped immeasurably. Not only was he able to steady the buttons and the material for his fingers to work over, but the soft breathy groans that generally greeted the feel of his warm breath on his lover’s crotch added dexterity to his movements, and fueled his own desire as well. 

Once the pants were undone, Krycek wasted no time in burrowing his face in between his lover’s legs and tugging at his shorts with his teeth. He leaned slightly to the side as he did this, putting his weight on Mulder’s thigh so he could reach up and find Mulder’s hand where it was digging into the arm of the chair. He gave the fingers a squeeze, then pulled the hand down under the sheet and pressed it to the man’s hip, indicating some assistance was required.  When he dragged the shorts further down Mulder’s body, and his lover’s hard cock sprang free of the confines of his clothes, Mulder needed no more instruction. He brought his other hand down as well, and with a hearty groan as Krycek licked at the tip of his cock, he shoved his pants down, lifting his hips just enough that his cock slipped between Krycek’s lips, and his pants fell to the floor in a jangle of pocket change. With a sigh of his own, Krycek released Mulder’s cock from his mouth and reached for it with his hand instead.

Krycek held his cock and stroked his cheeks and lips with it before placing the head in his mouth and sucking hard until Mulder cried out and his hips came up off the chair. He released him then and started over again, stroking with his hand slowly, then adding movement with his mouth in various combinations of hand, tongue, lips and teeth;
he stirred unique excitement with his mouth, and held exquisite control with his hand.

 When he nipped at the head, Mulder made strangled moaning sounds low in his throat, and when he abandoned the shaft to put his mouth to use on his balls, a soft wail of torment came out of him. Krycek was an efficient tease but not a cruel one, and his lips were soon back on Mulder’s cock, sliding up and down with an efficiency borne of desire rather than experience.

Krycek heard a cry above him, and the cock in his mouth leaped so vigorously that it almost escaped him. He put his hand around the base and felt the muscle there jerk as he took as much of him into his mouth and throat as he could without gagging. And then his mouth was flooded with thick fluid and he swallowed joyfully. For long moments his lips stayed firmly around Mulder’s cock, catching every last taste, until he felt Mulder’s hand through the sheet, tugging at his hair, and he released him with a gasp.

He fell back on his haunches and the sheet came away with him, leaving Mulder to shiver as cool air brushed over his body, naked from the waist down.

Struggling with just one hand to disentangle himself, Krycek finally got the sheet over his head. He looked up at his lover, slumped in the chair, still gasping for breath, looking thoroughly debauched, and he grinned and a small chuckle escaped him.

Mulder lifted his head groggily and regarded him with dazed half-closed eyes. When Krycek saw that he had Mulder’s attention, he dabbed at his wet mouth with the end of his ghost costume, gave his lover a smile and a nod and said clearly but quietly, 

“You got the trick, but I think I got the treat.”

The end.