Chapter 12: Consequence Free

Mulder awoke with a startled groan, feeling something pressed hard to his mouth. Despite his groggy state, he was able to quickly ascertain that the something was another mouth, warm and inviting despite the ache of pressure on his swollen lips. Another sound escaped him before he could stop it, and he opened his eyes.

“Shh…” Skinner pulled away from him and brushed a finger softly over his mouth instead. Mulder tried to follow the digit with his lips as he came more awake, instinctively moving into the touch; he encountered Skinner’s lips instead.

“Shh…” Skinner murmured again, the breathy purr warming the air between their mouths. The kiss was gentle, but not hesitant; Skinner continued the movement of his mouth on Mulder’s with soft persistence, taking care to avoid causing any more discomfort.

Even when Mulder grew more demanding, and tried to deepen the kiss, Skinner just shushed him again and slipped an arm around the back of his head, grasping his hair in a tight hold that Mulder had more than just a nodding acquaintance with. He struggled to recapture Skinner’s mouth, but those strong fingers tangled in his hair and held his head completely still.

He gasped aloud at the feel of Skinner’s teeth as the older man burrowed under his chin and nipped at his Adam’s apple, and the gasp turned into a louder groan as Skinner’s tongue soothed over the bite.

Another careful kiss on the mouth, and Mulder could see the gleam in Skinner’s eyes when he smiled at him, and just make out the light sheen of perspiration across his forehead as dim ‘wannabe morning’ light pressed at the window coverings.

“Scully’s sleeping,” Skinner warned him in a whisper, and then he went right back to work on Mulder’s throat, interspersing soft bites and kisses with licks and then a prolonged teasing suck on a vulnerable earlobe.

Mulder bit his lip to keep from making any noise, and then winced at the sudden self-inflicted pain. For the first time that he could ever remember, he suddenly wished that Dana Scully was very very far away.

He realized that he was still wearing his clothes from the day before, although Skinner was making short work of his jeans, and his shirt was rucked up his body to allow one of his lover’s big hands to stroke across the bare skin of his stomach and chest.

Even as Skinner’s actions were rapidly turning his mind into so much oatmeal between his ears, Mulder managed to spark at least two brain cells together in order to shimmy out of his jeans. When Skinner cupped a hand between his legs, Mulder snaked an arm between them and did his own exploring, pleased and excited to find Walter hot and hard beneath the thin pajama pants he was wearing.

A stroke, another, and then a firm squeeze, and Mulder felt the vibrations against his throat as it was Skinner’s turn to try and stifle any sound.

“Scully’s sleeping,” he teased, and then Skinner’s mouth was on his again, cutting off sound, nearly cutting off air, and they thrashed on the bed, silent but for panting breaths and the whisper of sheets on skin as the blankets were twisted and clothing shoved hastily off and out of the way. More rustling sounds, and then a pause, and Mulder caught Skinner’s eye as they rocked their bodies together.

There was a spark there in his lover’s eyes that had nothing to do with lust; it was something challenging and a little playful, and Mulder didn’t trust it for a minute.  Skinner pushed into Mulder’s hand and brushed his lips over Mulder’s ear, making him shiver.

“How sound a sleeper is she, Mulder?”

Mulder’s eyes widened. He barely had time to realize what Skinner was suggesting when he felt a stinging heat from Skinner’s mouth on his chest. Sharp teeth worried at a nipple, and Mulder couldn’t contain a cry of surprise.

“Bastard!” he hissed at Skinner, his gaze moving from the top of his lover’s head nestled on his chest to the bedroom door; there was something about the solid oak nature of the barrier between bedroom and living room that pacified him briefly.

He felt a chuckle vibrate the skin over his breast; Skinner’s only response to his complaint. And then he was working his way across Mulder’s chest with lips, teeth and tongue, intent on drawing more positive sounds out of him. He sucked the other nipple to hardness while stroking his hands down Mulder’s sides and across his hips, fingertips barely brushing the tip of his cock. The fingers paused, seemed to consider, and then brushed over the head again, this time a bit firmer.

Mulder wondered if he was going to chew his lips right off, and thought it might be a distinct possibility as he stifled another yelp. He knew he was fighting a losing battle as Skinner’s hands grew busier, working in teasing tandem; this one stroking hot and heavy over his thighs and the length of his cock; that one delicately cradling balls and teasing the crease of his hip where leg joined body.

Mulder managed to keep all his usual repetoire of sounds buried inside himself, aside from the occasional whimper; he thought briefly that if push came to shove, as it were, he could just end the teasing, push Skinner aside, maybe do some teasing of his own. It was still possible to take control of the situation.

Everything changed when Skinner took him in his mouth.

With an involuntary shout, Mulder bucked hard, hips coming off the bed, only to be slammed back down by Skinner’s hands. The man’s mouth stayed with him, hot and wet and moving light speed up and down the length of his cock as he pressed him firmly to the bed, his hands stroking and squeezing his flesh constantly even as they held him pinned down.

Mulder tried to push Skinner away by clutching at his shoulders and the back of his head and making a whimpering, groaning sound low in his throat. His efforts were met with limited success.

Skinner grinned up at him, released his cock with a soft kiss to the crown, and then shifted around between Mulder’s legs, spreading them and giving him access to more of his lover.

Mulder felt a hand give his balls a friendly squeeze and then move lower, but before anything more than a strangled “ Ah-oh-oh God!” could escape him, Skinner was sliding up his body and kissing him again. Mulder could taste himself on his lover’s lips, and his hips pumped hard, bringing more skin on skin contact.

Skinner was smiling down at him, keeping his fingers moving teasingly over his balls and under them while he pressed their groins together.

“Now that I’ve given you a head start,” he said, his voice low and breathy, “First one to cum makes coffee.”

Before Mulder could reply, he was sliding down his body again, now stroking the cleft between his buttocks and taking his cock back into his mouth.

“Wha—oh, oh, Christ, Walter—“ Mulder arched up to meet Skinner’s assault, and lost words as he felt the other man simply let him slide further into his mouth, tongue busily teasing the underside of his cock, throat muscles working deliberately. All focus, along with a generous blood supply, pooled below his waist, and his thought processes began dwindling into the non-existent category. For one brief moment he saw himself pushing Skinner away, toppling him over like a giant redwood, then jumping him like a crazed sap-sucking lumberjack. He knew he could make Skinner roar fiercely enough to wake an army of couch-napping Scullys. And then they’d see who would be making who coffee—or was it whom? Well, either way--

Skinner started to sing.

Well, not sing, exactly, his mouth being rather too busy to contemplate forming words. Hum, rather. Soft sound, barely registering in Mulder’s ears, but the vibrations that suddenly sizzled up the length of his cock were so intense he might as well have been fucking the sub-woofer of a Bose speaker in the middle of a KISS concert. He cried out in pleasure, forgetting his plans for Skinner, forgetting his sleeping partner, forgetting himself.

And when Skinner pushed the finger that had been teasing his ass deep inside him, he forgot everything, and he felt himself tightening, straining, bucking, and finally exploding with a scream…

****

“Walter, I cannot go out there!” Mulder complained, not entirely unhappily.

“Scully probably didn’t even wake up,” said Walter, sitting back on the bed with a self-satisfied smile as Mulder found a clean pair of shorts and pulled them on. “Besides,” he added, in a tone both arch and sweet, “You’ve been louder.”

“Smart ass.”

“That I am.”

Mulder added his robe to the ensemble, and then froze in the process of belting it shut at the sound of the shower starting up.

“Reprieve!” Mulder exclaimed, delighted. “I can hit the kitchen, brew a couple of cups for us and be back here before Scully gets to the ‘repeat’ step on the shampoo bottle.”  He opened the bedroom door, paused to look back at Skinner with a grin. “Then, when the three of us are all up and together, I’ll tell her it was you hitting that high C.”  Mulder ducked out the door and the pillow just missed him.

He passed by the bathroom and thought he could just make out singing over the sound of water running. He paused just a moment, then carried on to the kitchen, half singing, half humming quietly to himself: “Joy to the world, all the hmmm hmmm hmm. Joy to the hmm hmm in the hmm hmm sea—“

He burst into the kitchen with a flourish. “Joy to you and me!”

And wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole as John Doggett looked up from the coffee maker and smirked at him.

“I was wonderin’ what you did for an encore, Mulder,” he said, “I didn’t think anything could top that stirrin’ rendition of Ave Maria you were sharin’ with us this morning.”

“Aw, hell….”

End 12/19