It's The Humidity
It's The Humidity
Subject: [slashx] It's The Humidity 1/1 XF M/K Date: Monday, July 22, 2002 7:36 PM
It's The Humidity
July 22, 2002
Pairing: M/K 1/1
Spoilers: Not a one
NC-17 for graphic m/m sex and language
Summary: It's always so much hotter when you've got that blasted humidity to deal with.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek still belong to 1013, I suppose. Poor babies
Archive: all the usual places. Anyone else who wants it, give me a shout
For Ursula, who I heard screaming my name yesterday, and everyone else for always being so nice to me
At seven p.m.
Hot. Yeah, It's hot as a mother fucker. And to make things worse, it feels like a hundred and four. Nothing moves. Not the curtains. Not a hair on my head. Nothing except for the sweat that's running down my back. I'm not even doing anything. Just sitting here on the fire escape trying to catch even a hint of a breeze. Super said he'd have the AC fixed by morning, but I'm not holding my breath. No, I'll just sit here quietly melting into a puddle of perspiration.
It was the same last night. Funny, though, I had no trouble moving then. The sweat didn't bother me a bit. In fact it facilitated all that bucking and thrusting and...
Christ, knock it off. My thoughts alone are ratcheting up the heat at least ten degrees.
But shit, what a night.
He was hornier than I'd ever seen him, and that's saying a whole hell of a lot.
He walked in at eight. Damp and flushed and...I couldn't believe he was wearing that jacket. He mentioned something about the heat being outrageous as he walked in and pushed the door shut behind him, and as I began to explain that it was the humidity that made it so unbearable, he gave me this 'what the hell have you been smoking?' look, and he took the jacket off, tossing it onto the nearest chair. His t-shirt immediately followed, and my cock perked right up. I asked him how long he could stay, and his answer to me as he unbuckled his belt was, 'long enough.'"
I began removing my own clothes, and just as I'd tossed the last article aside, he was on me, licking and sucking at my mouth until I opened it for him, and then his tongue plunged inside. He was hot everywhere. His skin. His breath. He kissed me and kissed me until I was dizzy from it. And then he ripped his mouth away and picked up his belt, draping it around my neck. His hands slid up the worn leather, closing the two ends until they were held snugly against my throat, and then he began to move. Pulling me toward the bedroom.
I was mesmerized. I was aroused beyond reason, and I was so fucking hot. The sweat ran in rivers down my chest, and he noticed it, because as soon as we got into the bedroom, he pulled me toward him and started licking the drops away. Not any gentle, teasing swipes of the tongue, noooo, no. It was like he was dying of thirst, and I was the first glass of water he'd seen in weeks.
I shook. Actually shook, I was so turned on. His grip on the belt never slackened, and the slight discomfort of it did absolutely nothing to dampen my excitement. In fact, just to make things a bit more interesting, I struggled a bit, and just like I'd anticipated, he tightened his hold and jerked me back under his control. Christ, my cock was throbbing so much I thought the head would blow off. And as if I could take any more, his free hand slid down to my ass and pulled me in, grinding his own cock against mine while his teeth sank into my shoulder.
He shuddered with the effort it took not to bite too deeply, and he sucked at the skin so hard, I was sure some of it would tear away. Finally he released me and, propelling me backward, we fell together onto the bed, and he lost his grip on the belt. It fell from around my neck, and he didn't bother to try and replace it. By then he had better ideas.
Grabbing my wrists, he secured the belt around them, not without a fair amount of trouble. He was sweaty, I was sweaty, and either his hands or the belt kept slipping. And it didn't help that I put up a bit of a fight. Not too much of one, but enough so that he had more trouble than he would have. He did manage, though, and when he tied the other end to the slats in the headboard, I knew he'd make me pay for it. God, my cock was screaming.
He climbed off of the bed, and I complained immediately, my body arching toward him. He ignored my whimpering and pulled my underwear from the inside of my jeans. Returning to me, he demanded that I open my mouth. I obeyed without question, and he stuffed the underwear inside. Holy Christ, I was ready to die. I needed him to fuck me in the worst way, and I would have done anything...said anything to make it happen. Since I could do neither, I lay there, squirming and begging him with my eyes.
He told me how fucking amazing I looked and said he'd have to remember to bring a digital camera and some toys with him the next time.
My cock jumped at the thought, and my hips bucked repeatedly, fucking the air. He included a video camera in his previous list then reached into my nightstand drawer and withdrew the lube he knew was there. Quickly slapping some on his cock, he roughly grasped my hips and pulled me into position. His fingers bit hard into me, trying to keep a grip on my sweat -slick body, and I knew that today I'd have some pretty good bruises.
I looked up at his face and into almost black, glittering eyes. They were so...wild. Beautiful, fierce animal. And no amount of cold water thrown at him was going to get him off of me.
I felt the head of his cock sliding between my ass cheeks, and before I could take a steadying breath, he was stabbing into me. Short, brutal thrusts, and he wouldn't stop until he was completely buried inside me. It hurt, but I didn't fight the pain. Didn't want to. I sank into its brilliance, wanting to feel...to take all that he gave and beg for more. Fuck yeah, I wanted more.
And I got it.
The man fucked me hard. I don't know how he kept up that speed or intensity for as long as he did, but God, it was incredible.
The sweat ran down his face in streams, and one drop hung from the end of his nose for a while, gathering more moisture until it got too heavy to remain. It fell, splashing onto my face along with the drops that rained down from his hair, and these low, sobbing type growls began rolling in his throat as he found the strength from somewhere to fuck me harder. The bed shook until I thought the headboard would splinter, and then his position shifted slightly, and he hit my prostate. That's when all hell broke loose.
I bucked uncontrollably, screaming around my underwear, and he rode it out, hammering into me in counterpoint. Then, thank you, God, he finally grabbed my cock and jerked it erratically as he moved, and in a heartbeat, I was there. Literally blinded by his explosion and mine. I came and I came and damn, I thought it'd never end. Not that I wanted it to, but...he finally collapsed on top of me, hot and slick from sweat and semen, and he shuddered for a minute before going completely still. My legs fell to the mattress, and he slipped out of me with little more than a soft pop. It was only then that I truly missed the use of my arms. Not that I would have had the strength to lift them right then, but I wanted so much to be able to wrap them around him and hold him to me. The loss of his presence inside me strengthened that need, and I suppose I started to make some sort of noise, because he lifted his head and looked down at me.
His eyes were green again; what I could see of them behind those heavy, damp lashes, and he gave me this little, tired smile and kissed the side of my mouth before pulling the gag out. He kissed me again, this time full on the lips as he reached up to free my hands. I winced as I tried to bring them down to my sides, and he helped me, massaging them gently. I asked him how long he could stay, and the look on his face gave me my answer. I didn't say anything more.
We lay there for a little while longer, not a drop of perspiration evaporating, and he made the suggestion that we have a shower before he went on his way. He helped me up, and we walked hand in hand into the bathroom. I turned the water on, and we stepped inside, sighing in unison as the cool water hit our overheated skin. We washed each other, too drained to bother teasing, and when we finished, dried off as best we could without working up another sweat, then he retrieved his clothes. He dressed slowly while I only pulled on a pair of light underwear, and we walked to the door. He kissed me softly and answered my question before I could ask it.
"A week. Ten days, tops."
I nodded and lowered my head.
"I'll be able to stay the night," he offered. "Maybe two."
I smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss.
"Just do me a favor and make sure the AC's working, huh?"
I shut the door after watching him walk to the elevator and spent the rest of the night as I am right now. Alone, hot, and sweating off at least a half a pound an hour. And thinking.
What the hell had gotten into him? Was it the heat that made him so wild? Sex with him has always been intense, yeah. Many was the morning I'd awakened with aches and pains. And God knows it's been hot before.
Must be something about the dew point that makes him crazy. Yeah, if I had to guess, I'd say it was the humidity.
Wonder if I could manage to break the AC again next week...