marianne´s X-Files Authors

The Rarest Man: Duty Before Pleasure 7
by Sergeeva

Rated NC-17 - Skinner/Mulder

Summary: The title says it all...

Archived: Feb. 03, 1998

Category: V, Slash (Mulder/Skinner) Rating: NC17 Slash *****WARNING! This story contains scenes of loving and consensual sex between two men. If this idea offends you, leave now*****************
barra01

The Rarest Man: Wet Dream
(1/1) by Sergeeva
Disclaimer: These dear people don't unfortunately belong to me. They
are the property of CC, MP, DD, 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting.
No infringement is intended.
This is in the same universe as my story "The Walk", but you don't
have to read that first to follow what's going on here. Suffice it to
say, the UST has now got even more ST and is still actually U (you'll
see what I mean.)

I make no apologies for being totally obsessed: I'm crazy, but
harmless. Caring feedback will be much appreciated at:
[email protected]

"He is simply the rarest man i' th' world"
Shakespeare - Coriolanus 4,v,161

Well, now I know I'm losing it.....he leans on the table next to me to
look at the surveillance log and the mere sight of his hand so close
to mine nearly makes me swoon!

Of course, it's a hand that sums up the man: strong, broad, capable,
sexy. Long fingers, immaculate nails, darkly tanned skin...oddly, not
a paper-pusher's hand, even after his years as a bureaucrat, but still
more a soldier's. I noticed his hands the first time I sat across his
desk from him as he turned the pages of my report, and even back then,
when I thought of him as "the enemy", something clenched inside me
that I didn't know how to identify.

Today, I had no choice but to identify it as yearning, lust,
hunger.....love?

It's got to the point where I can barely function normally for any
length of time without drifting off into thoughts of him. I don't know
which is worse: alone in my apartment I can close my eyes and indulge
my fantasies and punish myself with the hopelessness of it all, but
when, as now, I'm actually in the same room with him, I can hardly
drag my senses away from his voice, his eyes, his skin...I can't
concentrate on anything, not even the case in front of me, and I feel
like a lovesick teenager.

Here we are, five of us, Scully included, sitting around the
conference table in his office, discussing the Freemont case: passing
around the photographic evidence, going over the forensic reports,
double-ckecking the paperwork. I'm watching him, as he stands backlit
by the light from the window, and I'm imagining quite a different
scene....

He's in the shower, his arms braced against the tiles in front of him,
his head bowed. Letting the water pound down on his shoulders, soaking
away the tension of a long day. I step in behind him and move up close
against his back to trail kisses along those perfect trapezius and
deltoid muscles: from the tender skin at the back of his neck to the
powerful curve of his shoulder.

He straightens away from the wall, lifting his head and casting a look
at me over his shoulder: a tender, intense look. His weariness is
visible in his slow smile, but the vital energy of the man is also
there in the dark eyes. I catch my breath at the power of that look
and cover my emotional turmoil by leaning around him to snag the
shower gel, meanwhile giving him an intense look of my own.

I squeeze some of the herbal-scented gel into my hand and start to
knead the knots out of those glorious shoulders. He relaxes into my
touch and I move my hands up his strong neck and start to lather his
hair. He has the most elegant scull - sleek and sculptural. His
smooth brown scalp is beautiful, and incredibly erotic. He tilts his
head back towards me now as he feels my hands smoothing over the
satiny skin. His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted as the hot
water sluices down over his chest and my fingers massage a hypnotic
rhythm over the smooth crown of his head and back into his fine silky
hair, around his ears, gently soothing his temples, cupping the weight
of his head in my hands.

I mesmerize myself with the sensual intimacy of the movements until
finally I slide my hands up the back of his neck and tilt his head
forward into the falling water, snuggling myself against the breadth
of his strong back while he rinses the suds away.

I squeeze more shower gel into my hands and, still pressed against his
back, circle him with my arms and begin to work my hands over his
chest. His head falls back against my shoulder, his arms hang loosely
at his sides - he is much more relaxed now, giving himself up to the
pampering experience. I move my hands slowly, caressingly over his
wonderful chest: cupping the firm curves of his pectoral muscles,
feeling the hard peaks of his nipples against my palms, stroking the
foam into the curling chest hair....

I run my hands down his sides from the fine skin, taut over his ribs,
down to the trim waist. Then from the muscular flanks up to the angle
of his hip bones, pulling him back against my own hips. I can feel the
clenching electric twinge starting in my groin, a thrumming
almost-ache in my tail-bone that spreads through to where my cock
nestles between his buttocks. With each caress I pull him back hard
against me, crushing my sensitized cock against his ass.

I tantalize myself as much as him by lingering at his flat belly - my
fingers tracing slow circles over the taut muscles and the fine
tapering line of curling hair. Eventually, when I can resist no
longer, I slide my hands down his abdomen to his groin, taking the
weight of his swelling penis in one hand while I tenderly caress his
balls with the other.

He rolls his head against my shoulder and I hear his ragged breath
against my ear as I feel his hips shift under my arousing touch. I
take his erect penis in both hands now - stroking its firm silky
length, teasing the sensitive underside with my fingertips, rubbing my
palm over the ripe head. I can feel the tremors building in him as his
hips writhe against my caresses and the muscles in his thighs spasm as
he braces himself for the imminent climax. As he comes, shuddering
under my hands, spurting through my fingers, his body arched against
mine, he cries out a sharp gasping sound, then brushes my cheek with a
kiss...

I hear his voice as if from a long way off...

Abruptly, the room swings back into reality again as I hear:
"Agent Mulder - perhaps you'd like to let us hear *your* thoughts...?"

The End for now.

THE END

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