"This is stupid, Lenny. He's made it quite clear that he doesn't want anything more to do with me. It was just that place, those people, all the danger. We both lost it. We've got our careers to think about. This is never going to work. He's going to tell me all this, he's going to tell me to leave." I hold onto the elevator doors, but Lenny pries each of my fingers open and then smacks my hands away.
"Mulder," he says firmly. "Do as I say, and nobody will get hurt. Not unless they want to be, anyhow," he winks knowingly. "Now move!" He shoves me from behind.
"For a little guy with a taste for being submissive, you really know how to be tough," I grunt at him.
"Oh, Mulder, for a clever guy, you sure can be dense. I don't know what goes on in that supersonic brain of yours sometimes." He rolls his eyes. "It's about getting what you want, not about being weak. And I am tough. Very. Now, come on." He drags me along the corridor to Skinner's door, and I hesitate, holding my hand up, unable to knock. Shit, I've been here before and it was always so easy. You just rap your knuckles against the door. Simple. Why can't I do it now?
"I can't," I moan, leaning my head on the door.
"Uncle Lenny to the rescue." Lenny takes the decision away from me by knocking sharply on the door before I can stop him.
"I'm going." I start to turn, and Lenny lunges for my neck, hangs on, and stops me bodily by placing his feet on mine. That's when the door is opened.
"Special delivery for you. The nice little package, as promised," Lenny says, patting my ass. He thrusts me past a bemused Skinner and through the open door, before skipping off down the corridor and leaving us to it.
I feel like I've been abandoned in a lion's den. This is worse than being trapped at Mithras. I stand there helplessly in the hallway, swallowing convulsively.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come," I mutter to him weakly. He's still dressed in his work suit as well. White shirt, dark tie. Immaculate as ever. And the expression on his face would make many a grown man quake. I watch him slam the door shut behind me, and I flinch. He advances on me, his eyes dark, and I back away from him, nervously. Then, without any warning, I find myself pinned against the wall, his arm across my chest, his hand in my hair as he kisses me savagely. My nervous terror evaporates, and with it goes all the strength in my legs. Luckily, he's holding me up. I dangle there for a second, his mouth pressed urgently against mine, sucking all the life out of me, his tongue thrusting into me passionately.
"Hello, Mulder. Nice to see you, Mulder," I murmur pointedly when he lets me draw breath.
"I'm not very good with words," he grins, that feral grin I've never seen at the office.
"You were good enough with them this afternoon," I point out.
"That was different. This is personal. God, I've been stuck in a hospital for a week thinking about nothing else but you." His hands are running over my body like he's some sort of starving animal that's been deprived of food.
"You have? Why didn't you call?" I ask.
"Why didn't you visit?" he counters.
"They wouldn't let me. Then Kendall wanted me to— Oh, hell, it doesn't matter. I wasn't sure where I stood."
"I don't want you standing anywhere." He sucks my neck, then propels me up the stairs and into the bedroom. "I've missed you," he whispers, closing the door behind us and coming to stare into my eyes.
"Then why didn't you say anything? I thought it was over," I whimper, as his fingers gently caress my neck.
"I wasn't sure how to handle it. I've never been in this situation before. I didn't want you thinking I'd exploited you," he says, holding my face in his hands and kissing my throat.
"Exploited me how?" I gasp.
"You were vulnerable at Mithras. You were dependent upon me for everything there. You weren't even allowed to feed yourself, couldn't defend yourself. I was always cast as the conquering hero who had to fight to save you from sexual predators, right and left. After we were rescued, I started to wonder if you felt as though you had any real choice in what had happened between us. For all I knew, you had started to hate my guts for it. That was the impression I had in that meeting earlier today. Then, when Lenny barged into my office, well, after figuring out that you were the 'nice little package' he was referring to, I was pretty damn pleased. I went out shopping especially for the occasion." He nods at his bedside table, where I can see a tube of lubricant and a whole king-sized box of condoms.
"What, no sex toys?" I berate, allowing him to lick down the side of my neck. "No whips, gags, chains or handcuffs? I've come to expect the full works, you know."
"Your call." His hands are urgent on my body, caressing me all over. "I don't need any of it, but if you want to experiment, buy whatever turns you on and we'll see what we can do with it. Safely."
"Sounds good to me, sir." I feel a warmth spread inside me at his words, because they imply that this is something that's going to last, something on-going, not just a series of wild and unrestrained sexual encounters. Although I hope there'll be plenty of them, too.
"You can't keep calling me 'sir'. You call me that at work." He gently strokes his hands down the sides of my arms and I reach out to undo his tie, then the top button of his shirt. "Call me Walter. Or Master," he grins.
"What?" I growl, distracted momentarily from the sheer pleasure of easing him out of one of his dazzlingly white shirts and finding the honeyed flesh underneath.
"Depending on what sort of mood you're in. I know what you're like." His grin widens. "Speaking of work…" His face immediately grows serious again. "We need to think up some ground rules on that. I won't be showing you any special favors."
"I wouldn't ask for any." I shake my head.
"Good. Then it's like I said back at Mithras. Work at work—we keep this stuff for our off duty hours. I don't want you confusing the two. Stop that." He swats my insistent, fumbling hands away from his shirt.
"But I want to."
"I know. You can't. I had something else in mind for tonight."
"Oh, yeah?" I challenge, luxuriating in the scent of Eau de Skinner as it wafts over me, overwhelming me with its raw, sexual pheromones.
"Yeah." He pauses, looking stupid.
"Well?" I prompt.
"Well, uh, like I said, I'm uh, not very good with words and all this personal stuff. You know, the emotional crap." He's flushing a peculiar shade of red. "You know, back, um, in the Zone, you said something that, uh, meant a lot to me, and I wanted to… Shit. Look, I'll show you instead. Close your eyes," he whispers.
I do as commanded, and hold my breath as he walks behind me. Then I feel his arms cross in front of my chest, and he undoes my tie, loosening it slowly, sensuously, before pulling it out from my collar. I can feel his cheek pressed against mine as he works, the smoothness of his bare scalp against my hair and the side of my face. His lips are on the back of my neck as he unbuttons my shirt, slowly, button by button. His fingers tease my flesh as he goes, and my cock pulses into life. He gently pushes the shirt down my back, allowing it to fall to the floor. Then he kneels down in front of me, unties my shoes, and helps me to step out of them, before peeling off my socks.
"There's no danger here, Fox," he whispers, standing behind me again, his hands on my pants, unbuttoning them. "Just you and me. No psychopaths, nobody telling us how to run our sex life. You can relax now. We're safe."
His words are soothing, caressing me, turning me on. I sigh and lean back against his chest, luxuriating in the feel of that cool shirt against my bare skin. He unzips me, and then pushes my pants slowly down my thighs, his mouth traveling down my back as he goes, ending up at my butt.
"Step out of them," he whispers and I obey, lost in an erotic world I don't ever want to leave. Then I can feel his fingers in my boxers, tracing their way around the waistband, dipping down towards my cock, gently playing with my balls, making me gasp.
"Oh, God," I moan, leaning back into him even more. He takes my weight on his hips and chest, his mouth still exploring the back of my neck and my hair. Then his fingers twine in the fabric of my boxers and they follow the rest of my clothing onto the floor, leaving me standing there, naked.
"Keep your eyes closed," he whispers, and then he guides me onto the bed and pushes me down onto it.
He disappears and, a moment later, he returns, and rolls me onto my front. "Make sure you keep them closed," he murmurs, and my cock immediately gets even harder at his tone. I feel his fingers on my shoulders, sliding down my back, massaging me with oil. "I wanted to return the favor," he whispers. "Keep still."
Either he's an expert in personal massage, or just being touched by him is a sensory delight. Either way, those blunt fingers find every last muscle in my body, caressing me with long, sensuous strokes until I'm abandoned to a place of total bliss. Finally he kisses my fingers and my arms, then down my back, lingering on my butt, before ending up at the soles of my feet, and the gesture isn't lost on me. I remember doing this to him, turning that massage I gave him into an expression of the love I didn't dare to vocalize. That's when I realize what he's doing and, abandoning all pretense of being macho, I have to report that it turns me into a quivering sap.
He rolls me over and starts on my chest, down over my abdomen, ignoring my swollen, eager cock, and ending up once more at my feet. Then he gently massages my face, and his fingers probe my scalp for endless blissful moments. When he finishes, it's very likely that I've been transported to Mulderheaven. I open my eyes, and kiss his forehead and his nose and his mouth, repeating his response to me after I massaged him a couple of weeks ago to show him that I understand the message. Then I pull him closer, wanting him to devour me as he did that first time we made love.
"No, not tonight. You see, I wanted to show you…I, uh, can make love without going completely nuts you know," he mutters, looking shamefaced.
"I like it when you go nuts," I protest.
"Yeah. But I need to show you what it's like when I'm gentle, so you have something to compare it with," he grins.
"I don't need anything to compare it with. I haven't complained before, have I?" I grumble.
"Not until now, no," he says, shaking his head. "But you're going to enjoy this, so just do as you're told. Lie still. I still want to own you, to consume you." He grins wickedly as he says those words. "But in a different way. Give yourself up to me, Fox."
