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Authority by Laura Cooksey

From: (Laura Cooksey)
Subject: NEW: (NC-17) Mulder/Skinner, "Authority", 1 of 2
Date: 25 Dec 1995 15:06:20 GMT

Since I got some new flame-retardant knickers for Christmas, I thought I'd post this little gem. I've gotten a lot of encouragement (you know who you are!) so I'm hopeful that others will like it, even if it isn't everyone's cup of tea.

Laura Cooksey

Big time NC-17 warning on this one! You've got your male/male sex, your power trips -- YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! I'm not responsible if this story freaks you out or pisses you off. So there!
All X-Files characters (c) Ten-Thirteen, Chris Carter, and 20th Century Fox, and used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
This story may be distributed freely, so long as no fee is charged and this header is preserved.
The author welcomes comments at her e-mail address. Flames will collected and used to start fires, appropriately enough.

by Laura Cooksey

Mulder loathed these sessions with Skinner. Hated with a passion being chewed out over and over again. He always tried to distance himself from the angry, gravely tone in the Assistant Director's voice. Today he was more successful at getting this distance than was really healthy.

The flat of Skinner's palm slammed onto the top of his desk with the sharp crack of a rifle shot, and Mulder jumped several inches in his chair. *Oh, shit, I'm a dead man*, he thought to himself, trying not to let any of his anxiety show.

"Agent Mulder, are you listening to me?" Skinner asked in a deadly cold voice.

"Of course, sir."

"Uh-huh." Skinner got up from behind his desk and walked around to the corner of it, staring down at the young field agent. Without saying a word, he turned away and went to stare out the window. He stood there for a long time, removing his glasses and putting them in his pocket. *Let him sweat. It will do him some good.*

The longer Skinner stood there, the more nervous Mulder got. *I really wish he'd just suspend me, or deny my travel claim, or something. Anything. At this point it would be a relief if he just jerked me out of the chair and hit me.* He caught himself tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, and forced himself to stop. *Uh, oh.*

Skinner turned slowly and crossed the room, sitting on the edge of his desk facing Mulder. "Agent Mulder, you are one of the best agents to ever come out of the FBI Academy: your psychological profiles, your conviction record. And yet you persist in reckless one-man operations, disregarding proper procedures, backup, and occasionally even your partner. I'm really getting tired of having an adversarial relationship with you. I think maybe it might help us understand one-another if we were to try to meet in a more neutral setting." He let that sink in, enjoying the slight look of confusion on Mulder's face. "I want you to come over to my house for dinner tonight." He turned and wrote his address on a slip of paper and handed it to Mulder, who took it reflexively, now looking openly perplexed. "Is seven o'clock okay?"

*Engage brain, Mulder.* "Uh, yes, sir. Of course." He fidgeted, all his normal defense mechanisms for coping with Skinner shot to hell by the bizarre turn of events. "Should I bring something?"

Skinner deadpanned, "It's not a date, Mulder. Dismissed." The confused agent rose from his chair and headed for the door. "I'll see you at seven," Skinner reminded him. Mulder hesitated, nodding once before closing the door behind him.

*What an ass on that boy!* He wished he'd thought of this sooner. Throwing Mulder off-balance gave him half a chance to get through to him about how reckless he was being. He liked Mulder, respected him, and didn't want to see either him or Scully end up dead. If he could just pound a little sense into him, maybe he'd last. And if he could have some fun with the pounding, well, so much the better.


"Well, well, the conquering hero returns with his tail tucked between his legs."

"Very funny, Scully. I'm not in the mood."

"Why? Didn't he buy your explanation for why we needed two new pistols, two new flashlights, and three thousand dollars for the rental car company after this last case?"

"He said he was tired of having an adversarial relationship with me and wanted to understand me better. He invited me to dinner. I think he's going to kill me and hide my corpse in his basement."

"Nonsense. If he was going to kill you, he'd never do it in his house."

"Just the same, if my body turns up floating in the Potomac, you'll investigate, right?"



"Am I in your will?"

He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm glad you're enjoying this."

"Oh, I am, Mulder, I am."


Fox Mulder stood on the porch of Walter Skinner's house and stared at the button for the doorbell, trying to work up the courage to press it. The house was enormous, in an older neighborhood where the yards matched the houses, unlike the newer 'posh' suburbs where large houses were squeezed onto tiny quarter-acre plots. The large brick home in Fairfax county, on the aptly named Prosperity Avenue, was beautiful, and was somehow not what he had been expecting. He finally rang the doorbell.

Skinner appeared a few seconds later, wiping his hand on a dishtowel. He seemed much more relaxed than he did at work, wearing chino slacks and a sport shirt that clung to his broad chest, and he shook Mulder's hand firmly and guided him through the door with a hand placed on his back. "You're on time. That's a good start."

"I thought that it would be in my best interests to make a good first impression."

Skinner smiled. "It always is, Mulder. The kitchen's that way. You can drop your jacket anywhere."

Mulder looked around the house as he followed his boss into the kitchen, leaving his jacket on a chair at the dining room table. The place was huge. Way too big for a single man. There had to be a story behind it. But, for the moment, the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen held his attention.

"I hope you like beef stew," Skinner said, looking up from the pot he was stirring.

"Yes, sir," Mulder replied enthusiastically, leaning back against the counter, with his hands jammed in the front pockets of his jeans. The long-sleeved Henley shirt he wore was faded blue and almost as comfortable to look at as it was to wear.

"How do you like the house?"

Mulder had to grin. "It's enormous. And beautiful, sir."

Skinner put the lid back on the pot and slid a sheet of Pillsbury(tm) biscuits into the oven. "Thank you. I kept it after my wife and I divorced. We'd always expected to have children, but thank goodness we didn't. I thought she'd ask for the house, but she didn't want the responsibility of the yard work and the maintenance. We paid for most of it with my inheritance, anyway, so I was glad to keep it." He fished a couple of beers out of the refrigerator and handed one to Mulder, then followed it up with a glass.

"My parents got divorced not too long after Sam vanished. I know how rough it is on a kid." Mulder found himself feeling sympathy for his gruff supervisor, and thought that maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

*I've eased him in, now let's shake him up a bit.* "She just couldn't stomach my more exotic interests."

Mulder eyed him over the glass of beer. *Maybe we have more in common than I realized.* "It's bad when your partner doesn't share your tastes."

"Yes, well, when she wouldn't go to the sex parties with me, I knew it was over."

Alarm bells went off in Mulder's head. "Parties?"

"Surely a man as well-read as yourself isn't naive about such things, Agent Mulder. Leather, bondage, dungeons. Men _and_ women." He barely repressed his smile as Mulder paled visibly. He leaned on the counter by the stove and pretended to stir the stew, waiting for the reaction.

A long silence was finally broken by Mulder saying, "Sir. It's one thing to get reamed out in the office, but I'm not going to put up with it when I'm off duty." A little anger crept into his voice at the same time he found himself thinking about just how strong Skinner looked. He seriously doubted that he could take him in a fight.

To his surprise, Skinner laughed softly. "That's good, Mulder. Forceful, but not inexcusably rude. I'd never suggest that your submission is a requirement of your job, or even a requirement for a good evaluation. However, if you do find yourself developing some respect for authority, or even a spirit of cooperation, it can't help but improve our working relationship. Besides, you get reamed out all the time on this job. At least I'll do it with KY and a kiss."

He watched Mulder absorb this new information, then walked slowly over to him, put his glass on the counter and took the taller man by the waist, enjoying the feel of smooth skin and muscles through the soft cotton of his shirt. Mulder braced his free hand on Skinner's shoulder as his pupils dilated, torn between trying to push Skinner out of his personal space, and waiting to see where the AD was going.

"Take it easy, Mulder. I want to top you, but I don't want to hurt you. I'm not into that. You went to school in England, surely this isn't entirely new to you."

Mulder cleared his throat. "That was university, sir." Despite that fact that he was taller than the Assistant Director, he still felt as if Skinner towered over him.

Skinner smiled again. *Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.* "I don't see you rushing to leave."

"I'm hungry," he admitted with a grin. *And way more curious than is healthy.*

Skinner stepped back, laughing softly. "You've got balls, Mulder."

"Not at the moment, sir." Mulder's heart hammered in his chest, and he struggled to regain his mental footing on the unfamiliar terrain.

Skinner grinned and bided his time, not making any more moves on the nervous agent, switching instead to safer topics of discussion, like sports and cars, and politics. He found Mulder to be even more articulate and intelligent than he'd suspected. He also found out a lot more about his personal history, much of which helped explain his preference to act alone. It was a wonder that Dana Scully had managed to get as close to him as she had. He only hoped that Mulder had similarly gained some insight and appreciation of his years in the Marines, and of his years with the Bureau.

Clearing the table, he called from the kitchen, "Would you like some coffee or tea?"

"No, thank you, sir," Mulder answered. He was startled by two large hands on his shoulders. Strong hands that started to massage his tight muscles. He could almost feel the heat of Skinner's body standing immediately behind his chair. He made the mistake of turning his head and looking up. Skinner gave him a devilish grin, clasped the back of his neck, and kissed him.

Panicked, Mulder froze like a deer in the headlights of a car, frustrating his boss to no end. Skinner poured all the passion he could into that kiss, working his lips against those of the younger man, focusing all of his attention on the feel of Mulder's body under his hand as he slid it firmly over Mulder's chest. He was finally rewarded with a small sound of acquiescence, and he felt Mulder begin to relax and return the kiss.

For his part, Mulder was overwhelmingly aware of how familiar, yet foreign, everything suddenly was. The smell of Skinner's cologne -- which he knew from their long association, but which he'd never paid any attention to before -- surrounded him. His right hand was on Skinner's side, his left on the larger man's shoulder, and he could feel the power in him as he hadn't since the few time's he'd wrestled in high school. And Skinner was a good kisser, very focused, very intense. Part of him was truly frightened by what was happening, but mostly he was excited. And that frightened him more.

When Skinner felt Mulder responding, he let his hand roam lower, felt Mulder shy away a little as he stroked his groin through the jeans, stroking him more firmly until he began to buck forward, rather than retreating. Mulder felt conflicted. Everything he'd ever been exposed to told him he should be angry and resentful of another man's sexual touch upon his body, that he should feel ashamed and dirty. But all he really felt was incredibly hot.

Breaking off the kiss, and smiling down into Mulder's confused and beautiful face, Skinner slid one hand under his arm and urged him up, out of the chair. "Let's take this party upstairs."

Mulder followed him, with some reluctance, to the master bedroom. He looked around warily and Skinner had to laugh again. "Were you expecting something different?"

He had to clear his throat twice before he could say, "I'm not sure, sir. Maybe."

"I find most people aren't too thrilled at the prospect of a lot of hardware on a first outing. Unless?"

"No, sir. That's fine." Mulder's head was swimming with the sudden turns this evening kept taking. Oddly, while he often resented Skinner's authority at work, he was quickly becoming caught up in the power games of this setting. At least here he felt like he knew what was going on, and who wanted what from him; he often didn't know those things where the X-Files were concerned. And Skinner had a certain charisma about him that just made Mulder want to give him whatever he asked for, scary as that was.

Skinner turned down the blanket and the sheets on the king-sized bed (Mulder noted the brass railing head- and footboards with some alarm), then sat down on the side of the bed facing the slender man who looked back at him nervously. He sat there just long enough to see Mulder start to fidget (a power trip he'd mastered in the military).

"Why don't you get undressed?" When Mulder hesitated, he leaned back on his hands and smiled, saying, "You didn't think you were going to get by with giving me a blowjob, did you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Take your clothes off, or I'll undress you myself."

Mulder swallowed and pulled off his shirt, then took off his watch and placed on the nightstand beside the bed. He could feel Skinner's eyes track him and he shivered. His boots and socks were next, shoved along the wall. He swallowed again, his hands on his belt buckle, wondering why he was there and how he managed to find himself in such strange situations.

Skinner was obviously enjoying himself. "It's okay, son. I know you're nervous." He sat up and reached out to wrap his hands around Mulder's, unbuckling the belt and reaching for the zipper. When Mulder started to pull away, Skinner gripped the top edge of his jeans tightly and restrained him until he'd gotten the pants completely unzipped. He let him go, then, watching in satisfaction as Mulder's hands shook a little as he finished removing his clothing, the boxers coming off with the jeans.

Skinner smiled as he saw Mulder trying to figure out what to do with his pants that wouldn't involve turning his back on the Assistant Director. Finally, he just tossed them into a chair on top of his shirt, and stood there at half-mast trying to look less than terrified.

"Very nice," Skinner said in his low quiet voice. "Come here." Mulder approached, and Skinner grabbed him just above each elbow and pulled him down until he knelt beside the bed between Skinner's legs. Skinner kissed him again, harder this time, and felt Mulder's response come more quickly than it had for the first kiss, mixed with some trembling this time. "That's much better."

He stood suddenly and walked past Mulder, who stood quickly to keep an eye on him. He removed his clothing calmly and slowly, folding everything neatly and putting it on his dresser. He could almost sense Mulder's frustration as he tried to get a good look at Skinner's erection, trying to gauge just how much trouble he was really in. Skinner smiled to himself, knowing that he didn't pose a threat to Mulder's anatomy so long as he was careful, but enjoying the suspense he was engendering in the agent. From the dresser, he brought out a box of condoms, some latex gloves, a handtowel and a small bottle of lubricant. He put all these items on the bed between two of the pillows, and came back to Mulder's side of the bed.

Stepping around behind him, he pushed the younger man back down onto his knees and slid down onto his knees as well, his legs between Mulder's. When he pulled Mulder backwards by his hips, he could feel him trembling. Holding Mulder firmly against his body, with his erection standing upright, the shaft pressed along the cleft of Mulder's ass, he slid both arms around Mulder's torso. As he kissed the top of Mulder's shoulder, one hand again reached down to massage Mulder's flagging erection. Mulder stiffened, this time with arousal, and thrust himself against Skinner's hand.

"Much better, eh, Mulder?"

"Yes," came the hoarse response.

Skinner tightened his grip slightly. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Much better," Skinner whispered in his ear, resuming his caresses. When Mulder's seemed to be relaxing again, he pushed him away and stood, climbed into the bed and pulled Mulder up alongside him. He rolled Mulder onto his stomach (the other man still hadn't gotten a satisfactory glimpse of just what he was up against) and put on one of the gloves. Opening the tube of lubricant, he warned, "This may be a little cool," and squeezed some out into his hand, rubbing it around and over his fingers.

Skinner watched Mulder's body language as he slid his fingers between the two halves of Mulder's ass, probing for his anus, spreading the lube generously into the cleft. He put another dollop onto his thumb and worked it into the small pink rink of muscle, Mulder's face was turned away from him, his hands clutched in the sheets, his whole body gone horribly tense.

"Relax, Mulder," Skinner urged. "I promise I'll stop if it hurts."

"Ow," Mulder said, very unconvincingly.

Skinner bit his lip to keep from laughing and slid his hand further around to cup and fondle Mulder's balls. "I suppose this hurts, too?"

"No, sir." A desperate gasp.

"This probably doesn't feel very good, either." Skinner started to stroke Mulder's penis again. There was an inarticulate moan from Mulder as he rubbed himself against the AD's hand, then Skinner went back to getting him ready to be entered, slowly working his thumb into Mulder's ass, along with a lot of lubricant.

When Mulder started to thrust backwards against his thumb, Skinner removed it and was rewarded with a groan of disappointment. He rolled a condom onto his aching and neglected erection and put his knees between Mulder's legs, balanced above him. He paused, driving Mulder crazy with anticipation, as he applied plenty of lubricant to the condom and placed the head of his penis at Mulder's opening.

Leaning his head forward, his placed a light kiss on the base of the taller man's neck. "Now take a deep breath and relax, Mulder." Mulder nodded and a deep breath shuddered out of him. Skinner pushed and felt himself enveloped by the familiar warmth of a human body. He pushed again, keeping one eye out for a bad reaction from Mulder, and slid most of the way in. *Hot and tight. Exquisite.* He groaned and rested his forehead on Mulder's back for a few seconds, anxious not to hurt him. Indeed, the more pleasure he could give him in this emotionally uncomfortable situation, the more in control he'd be. The more control he'd have over Mulder. His arms were tight along Mulder's sides, one hand splayed under Mulder's chest, holding him close.

Mulder buried his face in the pillow, overwhelmed with the mix of feelings cascading over him. Skinner was showing him such a confusing mix of tenderness and dominance that he couldn't keep his balance. Being penetrated was a little uncomfortable, but also incredibly arousing. Just at that moment, he would have done anything for Skinner, anything to please him. As Skinner entered him further, he groaned and arched his back against him, drawing him all the way in.

Skinner sighed and nestled his body on top of Mulder's, skin to skin from knee to shoulder. He began to thrust in slow strokes, saw Mulder bury his face in the pillow, and tried to draw him out. "Am I hurting you?"

*Oh, god, tell him yes, make him get up, make him get out, don't let him....* "No, sir," he whispered, pushing back against each thrust, feeling Skinner's balls brushing against his ass, Skinner's rough cheek resting on his shoulder, Skinner's fingers twined with his own as their mutual passion grew. He moaned in frustration, confusion, arousal.

"Easy, Mulder. Don't push back so hard against me. Let me do the work. You just relax, because I'm going to go ahead and come, now. Okay?"

"Yes, sir." Another whisper.

Skinner closed his eyes and let the tension in his groin build with each long, slow stroke, Mulder's body so hot and tight around him that he couldn't stand it any longer. He ground his pelvis against Mulder's ass, driving Mulder's hips into the mattress, letting the globes of muscle take the jerking spasms of his orgasm. He let all his weight fall onto the younger man, kissing the smooth skin of his broad shoulders.

The tender kisses were the final straw for Mulder's overworked emotions and he felt a sob force its way out, felt the tears running down his face. Skinner's quiet and rough voice was at his ear in an instant.

"Agent Mulder, are you hurt?"

"No, sir," he replied in a shaky voice.

"Are you embarrassed because you let a man fuck you?"

"No, sir. I'm humiliated to have let a man fuck me, and enjoyed it."

Skinner thought to himself, *Walter, you are one sick bastard, and you love it.* "You'll be all right, Mulder. This is a safe place. Nobody knows what happens here, except me and whoever I'm with. No-one else need ever know."

Mulder shuddered as Skinner withdrew, then wiped up the excess lubricant very tenderly with the soft cotton towel. When Skinner pulled him into an embrace and stroked his soft brown hair with a large, callused hand, he managed a shaky laugh. "I guess I was wrong about not putting up with getting reamed out on my own time."

"You were this time, at least. I hope you'll be wrong on other occasions."

Mulder rolled over to face him, licking his lower lip. "I'm sure I'll have other opportunities to be wrong. Sir." He put his hand on Skinner's cheek, skin snagging on the rough stubble there, and leaned closer for a kiss. Skinner smiled and gave him the kiss he sought. "You really enjoy these power games, don't you, sir?"

"Everybody has to have a hobby, Mulder. If only everyone could enjoy theirs as much as I enjoy mine."

He grinned at his boss, then something caught his eye, and he pushed Skinner away just a little to get a better look at the scars on his chest. Bullet wounds, and several cuts, probably from shrapnel. Skinner's hand slid down to Mulder's thigh, his finger tracing the bullet wound there that had nearly killed the agent, and then moved up to where Scully had shot him in the shoulder. They eyed each other silently for a few seconds, before Skinner took control again, and pushed Mulder onto his back.

"We seem to have some unfinished business, Agent Mulder," he said, squeezing lubricant into the palm of his right hand. He held Mulder's eyes as he reached for his half-erect penis, watched his eyes close as he started to coax the organ back into rigidity. Mulder started to buck in his hand, and Skinner grinned wolfishly at him. When he began to slide down the bed, Mulder's eyes snapped open in shock. When the Assistant Director took the head of his penis into his mouth, Mulder felt positively faint. The older man's mouth and tongue were incredibly hot and wet, and his hand stroked Mulder firmly in a smooth rhythm that brought him quickly to a peak.

"Sir," Mulder tried to warn him. But Skinner merely intensified his efforts and let Mulder come in his mouth. He kept stroking and sucking, and Mulder felt another orgasm rock through him on the heels of the first one. It wasn't very intense, but it was undeniable. He collapsed in a boneless heap on the bed, and when Skinner kissed him, and tongued a mouthful of semen into the kiss, Mulder just moaned and swallowed.

"_Very_ good, Mulder."

He was so far beyond humiliation at his point that it seemed the most natural thing in the world to say, "Thank you, sir," and mean every word of it.

"I trust that we have a better understanding, now."

"I think so, sir. I hope so."

"Good. Just don't forget who's boss."

"Not much chance of that. Sir."


Mulder woke up slowly, aware of someone's mouth wrapped around his penis. He was hard -- not uncomfortably so, but just beginning to feel _really_ good. Her tongue was stroking him just right, and he sighed. The sigh turned into a shudder as she pulled on him in a long, slow suck that started right at the base and slid up to the head, then he was drawn back in as the motion was reversed. When her hand cupped his scrotum and rolled one testicle slowly between two fingers, he shuddered in pleasure and reached down to stroke her hair.

What he found was Walter Skinner's bald head.

"Gaah!" Mulder exclaimed with a start, sliding out from under his boss and half-cowering against the headboard. The touch of the cold brass rails was almost painful on his bare back, but he was too shocked to notice. It took him a moment to remember that he was at Skinner's house, in Skinner's bed, and that he'd let Skinner fuck him up the ass only a few hours before. Skinner had thoroughly dominated him, and he'd enjoyed it. Reacting this way didn't exactly fit into the game plan of a dominant/submissive relationship, and that scared him much worse than his initial fright. *Oh, shit. What the hell is he going to do to me? And why am I doing this? Why have I given myself up so quickly to his control? God, I'm more fucked up than he is.*

Skinner gazed up at him calmly, leaning on his crossed forearms. "Now is that any way to express your appreciation, Agent Mulder?" He was careful not to let on how amused he was at the fear in Mulder's eyes. He knew that he would never actually hurt Mulder during sex. But Mulder didn't. He hadn't figured out the limits of the game yet, and Skinner wasn't sure if he ought to tell him, or just let him find the boundaries by himself.

"I'm sorry, sir. You startled me." There was real fear in that voice, enough that it worried the Assistant Director.

Skinner moved to kneel next to Mulder, one hand wrapped around the top tube of the headboard, deliberately looming over the more slender Mulder, looking down at him. "Mulder, are you afraid of me?"

"I think that's only prudent, sir."

Skinner smiled slightly and reached out to cup the back of Mulder's head, painfully tugging a few of the hairs taut. He saw Mulder wince and stroked his cheek lightly with his thumb. "While you're here, you are _mine_. But I'm not a sadist, Mulder. If I hurt you, you have to tell me so I can decide if I need to stop. If you're having a real problem, if I push some sort of emotional button for you, you have to tell me. Understood?"

Mulder looked at him in awe. How could any man hold such an emotional grip on him that he could listen to what he just heard and want to burst into tears. Why didn't he feel disgusted with himself (more disgusted, anyway)? What was it about Skinner that made him want to give up control and just do whatever Skinner asked, whatever Skinner told him to do?

"Agent Mulder? Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I've got a lot of emotional buttons." *Damn it, why is my voice choking up?*

Skinner nodded knowingly. "Mulder, were you abused as a child?" The wide-eyed look Mulder gave him answered the question effectively. "Sexual abuse?"

The whispered voice cracked. "No, sir."

Skinner nodded again. "I've met a lot of people who're working out some deep issues through games. Sometimes it's a mess, but often it's a very healthy outlet." He paused, waiting until Mulder's curiosity brought the younger man's eyes up to meet his. "It is for me. Is it for you?"

"I'm not sure, yet."

Skinner grabbed Mulder by both shoulders and pulled him into a hug as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to be sitting naked, in bed, holding one-another. Mulder tensed reflexively, then rested his head on Skinner's broad shoulder, feeling the other man's hairy chest rubbing against his own more lightly furred one. He laughed weakly, saying, "My father always said I grow up to be cocksucking faggot."

"Are you gay?"

"No, sir. At least, that's what I'd have said if you'd asked me this morning."

"I'm sure Agent Scully would be a good judge."

Mulder sat up, but didn't let go of Skinner. "Sir, Agent Scully and I have never been intimate."

Skinner thought about it, realized that Mulder was totally sincere, and replied, "Then you either have tremendous self-control, no guts, you're blind, or Scully really is the Ice Queen."

Mulder ducked his head and shrugged, smiling. Skinner was stuck by how charming and vulnerable Mulder could look, especially since he usually seemed so aloof, so in control. He lifted Mulder's chin and leaned in close to kiss him.

As they parted, he said, "You're a handsome man, Mulder." The head ducked again, and Mulder shrugged, as if to deny Skinner's words. Skinner grinned. *Oh, no, you don't.* Lifting Mulder's chin again, he emphasized, "I said you're a handsome man."

Mulder looked extremely uncomfortable, but managed to say, "Thank you, sir. I'm not very good at taking compliments."

Skinner reached out and cupped Mulder's face in his large hand. "That'll just have to be part of my job as your top, Mulder -- getting you used to compliments."

"Yes, sir," Mulder said, and this time he didn't look away.

Sliding down on the bed, Skinner put his hands behind his head and stretched. "Massage my chest."

"Yes, sir." Mulder sat beside the AD and did as he'd been told, working on Skinner's shoulders and abdomen as well, and massaging his arms and hands. He felt oddly safe, here, and thought perhaps his boss had fallen asleep, until he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"Thank you, Mulder."

"You're welcome, sir. Would you like me to do anything else?"

"Well, now that you mention it, yes." He sat up and motioned for Mulder to first get up, then to kneel beside the bed. Skinner slid far forward, putting his quiescent genitals right in Mulder's face. Mulder swallowed and reached out tentatively for him, but Skinner added, "No hands."

Mulder balked for a few seconds as a thrill ran through him. *Oh, God, I'm going to do this, aren't I? I'm really going to go down on him.* "I don't know if I can."

"Of course you can," Skinner said, stroking Mulder's soft brown hair with a gentle intensity that made Mulder wonder how many men had thrown themselves in the line of fire for this man in Vietnam. Skinner smiled at him and leaned back on the bed, settling himself comfortably on the mattress.

Mulder placed his hands halfway up Skinner's thighs and kept leaning forward until he couldn't even focus on the soft pink flesh, then closed his eyes and opened his mouth a little, feeling silky skin touch his lips. His own penis began to twitch in response to his movements as he ran his lips along Skinner's organ, exploring from the curls that tickled his nose at one end to the drop of pre-ejaculate at the other. With a shiver, he used his lips and tongue to lift the glans into his mouth.

Skinner let his breath out in a loud sigh and placed his hands over Mulder's for a few seconds before taking his face in both hands. Mulder's movements hesitated for a couple of seconds, then his tongue resumed tracing the contours of Skinner's engorging flesh as he sucked on it.

Mulder was both fascinated and repulsed as he felt Skinner growing longer and harder in his mouth. His own penis responded eagerly in echo to the effect he was having on the older man, aching to be stroked and caressed, yearning to be somewhere tight and wet. Skinner's fingers twined in his hair scared the shit out of him, despite the fact that the grip was light, and Skinner had made no movement to force himself deeper into Mulder's mouth. Another drop of fluid coated his tongue and Mulder closed his eyes tighter, feeling a tear trickle down his face as his father's accusations whispered in the back of his mind.

"Don't stop, Fox," Skinner sighed. "You're doing very well." He let go of Mulder's head, not wanting to frighten him too badly this first time, letting his hands rest on Mulder's again. He felt Mulder repeat the move that he'd used in waking the younger man earlier: pulling far back, then sliding forward all the way to put his lips at the base. Apparently that was a little too much, because he gagged and released Skinner, coughing.

"Sorry, sir." A few seconds hesitation. "Do you want me to continue?"

Skinner sat up and motioned for Mulder to climb back into the bed, saying, "No, that was fine, Mulder, for your first time. Especially for your first time. I'm sure you'll get better with more practice."

An eager grin. "Thank you, sir."

Skinner climbed half-way on top of Mulder, stradling one leg, letting their balls and erections touch, pulling the taller man into a kiss. He reached down and cupped one hand under Mulder's penis so he could guide his thrusts to ensure that they stroked across each other. Mulder moaned and bucked, startled by the sensation. "Easy."

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

"Roll over," Skinner ordered. Mulder nodded and turned away, shuddering when he heard Skinner putting on one of the latex gloves and opening the bottle of lubricant. He put a slick fingertip onto the ring of muscle, rubbing in a gentle circle. "Are you tender?"

"No, sir." Shakily.

"Come on, Mulder."

"Just a little."

Skinner applied a little more lubricant and pushed his finger gently into Mulder. "Is it okay if I keep going? I don't want to make you too sore." He slid the finger in and out, rubbing the fingertip along Mulder's prostrate.

"I'm okay, sir." A long low groan as he squirmed.

"Tell me you want it."

Swallow. "I want it."

"Tell me what you want."

A shaky breath. "I want..., I want you to...." He closed his eyes for several seconds, gathering up his courage. He'd faced down mutants, serial killers, alien shapeshifters, and nothing -- nothing -- had ever frightened him as much as this look into his own soul. "I want you to fuck me."

"No. Try again."

Mulder looked back over his shoulder, confused. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand."

"Don't tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me what _you_ want."

He bit his lip and looked away, but Skinner touched his chin and forced him to look back. "I want you to make love to me," Mulder whispered, feeling his cheeks burn, his throat tighten. *What if he says no? I've bared my soul to him. What if he laughs at me?* Mulder held his breath as Skinner stared at him calmly, revealing nothing.

Then Skinner smiled. When he saw the relief on Mulder's face, he smiled even more broadly and pulled the slender man into his arms, stroking the smooth back and ass, kissing him long and hard and deep. "I want to make love to you, Mulder. I want to take you and own you, for just a little while. I want to feel your whole body tense right before you come, and feel you let go."

Mulder's eyes were huge, beautifully dark. Licking his lips, he joked, "Can I use that speech?" After Skinner laughed, he added, "I didn't know you felt that way, sir."

"I didn't either. Not really. I've always thought very highly of you, Mulder, even when your attention turned to the X-Files. And when you started attracting the attention of those hostile to your cause, I began to worry about you and Scully. If you won't take care of yourself for yourself, do it for Scully. Do it for me."

"I'll try, sir. I'd like to promise more, but I really can't. I'm sorry."

"That's a good try, Mulder. We'll go with that, for now." He kissed him again, rolling Mulder onto his back, then lifting himself up onto his knees and rolling on a condom. He handed the bottle of lube to Mulder and watched patiently as Mulder applied the fluid to the rigid member that would soon enter his body.

When Mulder tried to turn over, Skinner stopped him and grabbed Mulder's legs by the ankles, one on either side of him. He lifted both legs, and pushed them back until the small, tight ass was bared. "We're going to do it face-to-face, this time." Placing the tip of his penis into the center of Mulder's anus, he pushed, and was enveloped. Mulder's long legs caressed his sides as he pumped his way slowly home, burying his length in the younger man's body.

Skinner pushed himself up on his powerful arms and started thrusting, long, slow strokes again. Mulder cried out his pleasure and threw his head back, feeling the motion deep inside. Propping himself up on one arm, Skinner grabbed Mulder's right hand and placed a condom that he had opened into it, guided it between their bodies. Mulder slid the condom on and squeezed some lube into his right palm as Skinner smiled down at him.

As Skinner closed his eyes and kept up the maddeningly slow rhythm, Mulder tried to match it. If he speeded up, Skinner slowed down. But if Skinner increased the pace, he allowed Mulder to keep up. Mulder forced open his eyes just before he came, seeing Skinner looking down at him, his face tight with the tension of sex. He heard the wet sounds of being penetrated, flesh slapping flesh, flesh stroking flesh. He could smell Skinner's sweat, could feel how slick their bodies had become.

He touched himself just so, finally, and came in a torrent, his ass constricting around Skinner with each pulse of his orgasm. Skinner grunted, and moved faster, the sensation making Mulder cry out sharply, beyond words. Skinner pulled Mulder awkwardly up into a kiss, muffling his own low groans as he came, too. He kept moving for several seconds, finally shuddering to a stop, gasping for air, releasing Mulder, pulling out before collapsing on top of him.

They kissed a final time before Skinner cleaned them both up and pulled Mulder into his embrace once more. "Get some sleep, Mulder. We've both got to be at work tomorrow."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." More quietly. "Thank you."

A large hand ruffled his hair playfully. "My pleasure, Agent Mulder."


"So, Mulder, how'd dinner with the boss go?"

"It was interesting, Scully. We might even have dinner again sometime. He's a fascinating man, when he's not preoccupied with work. And I certainly feel like I understand where he's coming from, now." Mulder gave her his most innocent smile and concluded with, "You ought to try to get yourself invited over some night. I'm sure you'd enjoy it."