Come Again? by Halrloprillalar
11 October 1998
DISTRIBUTION: OK for Archive/X, elsewhere by permission. Email forwarding is OK.
RATING: NC17 for M/M sexual situations.
SUMMARY: M/Sk-ish, humorous, very short fluff. What monsters lurk outside Mulder's closet?
DISCLAIMER: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own the X-Files, not me.
For Nonie, whose story "A Quiet Moment of Comfort" inspired it.
by Halrloprillalar <>
"You and Skinner are *what?*" Disbelief shaped her words.
"You know, we're...lovers." Unease laced his.
"You and Skinner. You're fucking." Blue eyes glittered, fixing him where he stood.
"Uh, yeah." He almost squirmed under her gaze.
"How long, Mulder?"
"Just a few...a couple...six months." He waffled between defiant and hangdog, unsure which would be the best tack to take, and only succeeded in sounding petulant.
She looked at him, eyes like ice. Well, more like icepicks, really. Then she closed the distance between them, stopping just the other side of his desk. He couldn't help but be glad to have it separating them.
"Does he take it?"
"Skinner. Does he take it up the ass?" If her voice was ice, it was dry ice and it burned.
Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Scully? he tried to say, but his throat suddenly closed up and he just stared.
"Do you do it in the office, Mulder? Do you do him here?" Scully leaned in and rested her hands on the desk. "Do you bend Skinner over the desk and fuck him until he screams?" Her fingers trailed tenderly across the wood, pushing papers and other debris aside.
"Well, usually we--"
"What about his office? Do you crawl under his desk, Mulder? Do you wrap yourself around his legs? Do you suck Skinner's thick hard cock while he talks on the phone to the Director?" Her breasts rose and fell with each deep, fast breath. She slipped off her jacket, revealing white silk tented out by her straining nipples. Dropping the jacket on the floor, she moved in again, closer to Mulder than before.
"Scully, we're not--"
"When he comes inside your mouth, what does it taste like? Is it bitter? Is it thick like cream? Do you swallow?" With this, she lifted her chin, caressed her neck with one hand, and suited her action to the words, white throat working.
"Scully, I don't--"
"You do it in the gym, in the showers. I know you do. Both of you, naked, hot water streaming down your skin. Skinner's back against the tile, you kiss his chest and bite his nipples. You hold his thighs in your hands and plunge your tongue into his navel. You lap at all the muscle and hot hot skin."
"Maybe just that--"
Scully's hands slid sensuously over her breasts and down her body. "Then he pulls you up and you brace yourself against the wall with your hands. He touches your back, your legs. He cups your buttocks, Mulder, he pulls them apart. He flicks his tongue out to taste you. Then he rims you until your knees buckle." She sidled up so she was pressing against the desk. She closed her eyes. "I see you. I can see it all." Panting, she ground herself against the wood.
Mulder stared, immobile, horrified, and more than a little excited.
Scully's eyes snapped open. "Mulder, get me a desk."
"I want my own desk, Mulder. Then I want you to get Skinner in here. Naked. I want him naked. You wear your suit. Fuck him on my desk, Mulder. I want you to fuck him hard. I want him to come all over my reports." Face flushed now, eyes closed again, Scully spoke more and more slowly. "Fuck him. I want him to come. I want him to...ahh...ahh...ohh..."
Her whole body shuddered with the climax. Mulder reached out...
"Mulder." The name buzzed against his ear, startling him. An arm slid across his chest, pulling him back and into the spoon. "Mulder, did you tell Scully about us yet?"
"No," he sighed. "But I'm thinking about it."
F I N I S
Was it good for you? Tell me how many at .