This Partner Thing

I flick my eyes up casually as he comes in, with that shy little smile he's always flashing at me. Goddamn it. I look back down quickly, before he can see the way I light up when he comes in the room. Light up? How about swell up? Shit. Yep...there I go again.

I have a new partner. Name's Alex. Damn pretty little shit, too. I don't need this. I really don't. On top of being "Spooky Mulder," I do not need to have people thinking...all right, knowing...I'm gay. And since I get hard just thinking about that little pud, let alone seeing him with that shy little, wide-eyed, long-lashed, pale-skinned....where was I?

Oh yeah. He's coming over here. Strategic shift of the papers to hide my boner...there.

"Yeah?" I barely look at him. Yeah, he might admire me and 'want to believe' now, but if he knew I jerked off to him most nights, I think he'd have a totally different estimation of his senior partner. Probably punch me in the face and run to Skinner for a transfer. Okay, be cool...he's leaning over me. Damn...that's some mighty fine cologne for those fashion- emergency suits. Is it hot in here? Where the fuck did all the oxygen go?

He's talking in that sex-roughened baritone of his. Well, probably not *literally* sex-roughened...as if he spent all night howling in spasms of uncontrollable ecstasy...yeah, this is helping my fucking hard-on. What the fuck is he saying? His tie swings down in my face as he leans in, and I have to evade it so it doesn't fall in my eyes.

What was that flash of silver? Ah...little tie pin. Probably some stupid macho bullshit...tiny naked woman, just small enough that no one...no one but his lust-crazed senior partner...*gay*, lust-crazed senior partner...can make out what it is. Goddamn heterosexual little prick. Well, I say if you wear tie jewelry, you're just asking for people to get close enough to see what it is. He knows I'm curious. Anyway...good excuse for me to just kinda...lean in closer...now I can smell 'Alex' mixed with the sexy cologne. My eyes did *not* just almost close there, dizzy with his smell. Fucker. Droning on and on...hope it's nothing too crucial, cuz all I can think about is that voice, moaning..."Mulder...oh god, yeah Mulder...."

"Mulder..."

"Huh?"

"I said, what do you think of all this?"

He's about in foot in front of me, leaning in closer to get my attention. He's got so fucking much of my attention it hurts. I look up at his face and lose my train of thought as I swim in the...yeah, green, they're green...of those...fuck, those are some goddamned long lashes...

"Huh? What, Krycek?" Oh god...the little head tilt with pout. Watch that fat little lower lip stick out...mmmm just lean forward and take it between my teeth and pull...He really does put up with a lot. Doesn't help that I'm always blowing him...*off*! Blowing him off. I blow him off because I don't want to be around him...get hard around him...get dizzy and stupid and..."

"You're not listening to me."

Now he sounds hurt. Awww...c'mere, Alex, let me kiss that alllll better. I'll start with your eyes...kiss them closed...work my way down with a little kiss on the end of that ridiculously tiny nose...then before you can run away, press my mouth down on those soft...fuck those lips are pink and soft...just mash 'em against mine and then thrust my tongue between...

"See?"

Oh yeah...what was the question? "I wasn't. Can't you handle this on your own?" Yeah, just get on your knees and reach into my pants and handle...

"I thought we were partners, Mulder." Petulance. He's so goddamned young! I just love to make him pout. Sigh...he's talking again. "You don't have to like me." He's looking at the floor now. Good. I can study him closer. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, and it draws attention to his soft, pale neck...my tongue, stroking from hollow to jaw...

"Like you?" Lick you? Did you say 'lick you' Alex? Okay then.

"Yeah. You're not required to like me, but you are required to work with me." His voice has gone so quiet. Like a rumbling whisper, entreating me to go faster, do it harder...

"I am working with you!" Voice is a little high, there, Mulder. Clear the throat and scowl. Yeah, just pissed off...not sexually frustrated....no sir, not me...

"Then act like it!" He's leaning into my face and that stupid little pin swings forward on his tie, bopping me on the eye, and I'm just about to get up and put him on his ass when I my mind registers what I just read.

2QT2BSTR8

I stare at it. Then my mouth drops open and I look five inches higher into wide, green, long-lashed eyes...and the eyebrows slowly rise...a wordless question...can't speak, can't look away...his lips are moving...in my mind I'm already kissing him...I can hear the groan...

"See something you like?" He's smiling. Like, 'Come over here and fuck me stupid, big boy' smiling. And...oh fuck me blind, he's licking his lips. I didn't groan, did I? I'm pretty sure that was just in my head. My uh...mind, that is. I finally break my gaze away from his wet lips, scanning the bullpen quickly, then look back into those eyes which never stopped looking at me. I clear my throat, as in my imagination I push my cock between those pouty pink lips, holding that gel-slicked hair as I thrust...

"Alex...why don't we go to lunch and talk more about this partner thing?"

We take separate cars, and it's a damn good thing because if I were driving and he was sitting there, I'd probably drive into a pole, and if he were driving, I'd be grabbing his...

We're finally here. College neighborhood, trendy little coffeehouse known to be gay-friendly. Five miles away from anyone we're professionally associated with. I'm having a hard time breathing, here...I adjust myself, grunting as I press against blood-engorged cockhead flesh, and I step out of the car.

He's leaning back against the door to his own, arms crossed, hips thrust forward. Looks like a goddamned rent boy. Since when did he get so cocky? Fuck. Probably about the time I licked up that dribble of drool that slid down my lip when I saw his 'declaration.' I put my blank face on and walk up to him. He leans up away from the car, coming into my personal space bubble for a very uncomfortable second before uncrossing his arms and starting into the cafe ahead of me. I see. Walking ahead of the senior partner, now, are we? You think this gives you leverage, you little punk? Kinda nice watching his ass move under those ugly blue pants, though.

I rush to catch up with him and catch the door as he opens it. He looks me right in the eyes, head tilted down a little, and it's real fucking obvious this is not a new game to him. Fuck. The last...thing I came onto damn near got my ass toasted in a hotel fire. Fire. Yeah, I can see that's what I'm playing with, here. I shove ahead of him just slightly and we stop at the podium, waiting to be seated. I glance to my right and he's smirking and doing that looking at the floor, then up through his lashes thing that makes me wanna grab his head and yank it forward, bruising those soft, arrogant lips with a...

"Two? Smoking or non?"

"Non!" We both look at each other as the overly emphatic words come from both our mouths in unison. Doesn't look quite so smug, now. Good. Little fuck.

"Right this way." She leads us to a table by the window and I'm shocked to hear my usually deferential partner speak.

"No. We need a corner or something. Privacy." He uses the lashes on her, lowering his head and looking up at her through them, lower lip pouting. Wonder she doesn't just hike up her dress and climb him like a fucking tree. She takes us to a corner booth in the back and we take our seats on either side of the table. Damn...that kid moves with some kinda liquid grace...sliding across that seat on his tight, round little....

"Can I get you something to drink, gentlemen?"

"Beer. Two." I don't let myself smirk as I order for him. I meet his eyes and they're blank, just staring at me casually. The server finally leaves us alone and I swallow hard, leaning against the back of the bench seat.

"So," he says in that rumbling groan of a voice. "What did you want to talk about, *Agent* Mulder?" When he arches his eyebrows like that his eyes look even more innocent and he just looks way too fucking debauchable.

"This partner thing." Ahem. Throat's a bit raspy again. I narrow my eyes.

"You mean how you don't seem to want to treat me like one?" Eyes still round, eyebrows still arched, still got those goddamned long fucking eyelashes...

I scowl at him. Purse my lips because I can't think of anything to say except, 'Crawl under this table, kid, and I'll help you get that fucking innocent look off your face.'

"I saw your tie pin." There. I said it. I mean, I know he saw me notice it and practically lick a path from his chest to his neck afterward. Well, in my mind, I did anyway. But now it's on the table. Or on his tie, anyway.

"Yeah. And?"

You little motherfucker. Wonder what it would feel like to just punch that soft, pink mouth a few times before bending him over? Sexual harassment, Agent Mulder...rein it in...

"So...I didn't know..." Jesus I sound like a moron.

"That I'm gay?"

My breath comes out in a gasp. Real subtle, there, Mulder. Close your mouth. That's it. Swallow. Lick your lips...think of what you're going to say...

"Yeah."

He nods, his lips firming in a line. Then he just looks at me across the table. Not even from under his lashes, the little prick. You'd think I'd at least get the Alex-lashes treatment. Fucker. I can't think of a damn thing else to say, so, like a marionette, I nod along with him.

We're bobbing our heads at each other like that when the server brings our beer.

"So, what can I get you guys to eat, today?"

Easy one, lady. This little punk, naked on a platter with an apple in his mouth to keep it quiet.

"French Dip, please," says that pretty little mouth.

"And you, sir?"

"Uh...burger and fries," I finally say, not even knowing what I just ordered. But she seems happy. She's going away.

"Stuff's not good for you, Mulder," says Krycek, shrugging out of his suit jacket. Those stupid little satinstripes don't do a hell of a lot to detract from the sight of his pecs moving subtly under them.

"Very little in my life is," I answer tonelessly. He just nods and places one hand on the table, grasping his beer, his finger moving up and down, absently sliding through the beads of condensation...slowly...up and down...up and down...say, where's that other hand, anyway? I suppress an urge to duck under the table and check, quite certain that he's not going to fulfill one of my many Alex-fantasies and stroke himself off under the table while talking to me.

I sigh and grab my own bottle, tightly, lifting it to take a long, hard, deep swallow. I lick the spilled drops from my lips, cursing my sloppiness, and slam the bottle down just a little too hard. My other hand is under the table, too, smart-ass. Tickling up and down the ridge of my cock under my suit pants...making my breath come in small, shuddering pants that I barely control as he just looks at me as if waiting for me to say something.

"Mulder?"

"Huh!" Fingers twitching against overly sensitive flesh at the sound of my name from those lips. I stop and squeeze, narrowing my eyes.

"Are we going to talk or not?"

Talk. Yeah. We need to talk. I wanna hear you talk, Alex, tell me how it feels when I pull those round cheeks of yours apart and push my...

"Mulder!"

"Yeah, I do wanna talk, Alex."

Shit. Oops.

"Alex?" Brows arching again and those damned lips are parted in surprise.

"Well, I just...I mean we're not at work here, now, technically, and I just thought...we could dispense with formality." And I just thought maybe you could slip beneath this table and replace my hand with your mouth...

"So does that mean I can call you Fox, then?"

Oh he's asking for it, now. Looking all innocent, but there's that little corner of his lips twitching, aching to be kissed...

"I prefer Mulder," I grate out. "I can call you Krycek if it makes you more comfortable." Or if it makes you wanna submit yourself to me on your hands and knees...

"Alex is fine," he says, with one of those shy smiles, and, wow, he's even doing the head-ducking thing...and...folks...we have the lash treatment. I swallow back a shuddering sigh and stare into those dark eyes as my hand squeezes at the bulge in my pants.

"Here ya go!" The server slides our plates down in front of us and I jerk my hand guiltily off to my side, grateful to have a booth. "Look out...don't burn yourselves, guys. That's hot stuff."

You don't have to tell me that, lady. Now get the fuck out of here so I can put my hand back on my crotch and try to deal with it.

"Do you need anything else, boys?"

Boys? She's no older than we are. I'm frowning when I hear that smoky voice again.

"No. Thanks. We're good, aren't we?" He's looking at me, eyebrows raised again. Shit he does that a lot.

"Yeah, we're great." Now leave so I can bend him over this table and break about three laws by shoving my dick up his...

"Okay then...let me know if you need anything. Enjoy your meal."

Convince eyelash boy there to open his pants and lay down on the table and I will.

"Thanks." What the hell is this? Oh. Burger and fries. Cool. I start to rearrange the condiments and lettuce and shit and slap them back together and look up and freeze, soggy lettuce dangling from my fingertips.

Alex...Krycek...whatever...is taking a big, huge, wet, soggy bite of roast beef sandwich dripping with juice, grunting a little as he struggles not to get it all over his face and fingers. He looks up and sees me.

"Mmm...sorry. These things are so damned messy." His mouth opens and his tongue stretches down over his lip, sloppily licking away dribbles of dark, greasy juice before they can drip off his chin. I don't say anything. Nothing at all. I know whatever I would say would not be nearly as coherent as I would think it was when I said it. I bite my tongue, then run it over my front teeth and look back down at my own food.

"So," he says with a noisy smack, licking his lips again. "You wanted to talk. Let's talk."

I sigh and set my burger down, holding it with both hands as I bring my eyes back up to his face, hoping his tongue is back in his mouth where it belongs. Well, I have one other place he could put it...actually two...three...?

"Well, Alex," And dammit he smiles at that. "You're gay. I mean, isn't that a problem...in the bureau?"

"Nobody knows but you, Mulder. Is it a problem for you?"

Fuck yes, Alex, because now I know that you're not off limits, well except for that whole thing about being my junior partner and under my direct supervision and oh yeah all those stupid sexual harassment laws and rules prohibiting consorting...

"Uh, no. No, it's not a problem for me." NO one else knows he's gay? He's not doing anyone else at work? Is that because he doesn't want anyone else? Or because he won't do that shit at work? Fuck, this is sooooo hard. Heh. Yeah, that, too.

"Good." He gives me that closed-lip, choirboy smile and reaches down to take another bite of his messy sandwich, dipping it into the aus jus with gusto, spilling a little over the side. Pig. I reach down without looking and pick up a steak fry and bring it to my lips slowly. I watch him tip his head back to catch the drips as he lowers the dripping sandwich into his mouth, taking another generous, sloppy bite. He chews, his tongue working the corners of his mouth with little pink flicks, getting all the brown broth. I can't even fucking look away. Hell, I'm not sure I remember how to breathe. He doesn't even notice. Then he looks up just as I put the end of the fry in my mouth, slowly, my tongue licking the underside, drawing it in. Oops.

He zeroes in on my mouth and licks more juice off his lips. I quickly shove the rest of the fry in my mouth and look down, feeling my face flush and my cock jump.

"Alex, we're partners, right?"

He nods, then around a partial mouthful of food, "Right."

"And...I can trust you, can't I?"

He looks at me and swallows, licking his lips clean again. "Yeah."

"Well, it doesn't bother me that you're gay because..." I drop my voice to a very low rumble. "I'm gay, too."

"I know."

He grins. Fucker!

"What...what do you mean, you know?" I'm sputtering, I know, but fuck if I can help it. He knows??

"Well, you know...gaydar, I guess," he answers with a shrug.

"Gaydar."

"Yeah." He starts to dip his sandwich into the juice again. Jesus Christ have mercy, no.

"Well, then, I mean...uh...so, why didn't you...let on?" Why didn't you come on to me, you little prick?

"Well, I didn't figure anyone but you would be getting close enough to see the pin, so one could say that I did let on." With that rational, objective statement, he brings a big dripping bite of sandwich up to his mouth, continuing my torture. God, he really eats sloppily. Seems to really get into it, though...

"So...was that pin...your way of..."

He shoves the end of his sandwich in his mouth, chews and swallows, and then licks the tips of his fingers noisily. I did not groan. I didn't. I just...cleared my throat.

"Coming onto you?" He puts his index finger into his mouth up to the second knuckle and sucks it to the tip with a slurp.

"Y-yeah."

"Of course not, Mulder. I mean, Jesus! You're my senior partner! I'm not crazy. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm just gonna jump every gay guy I see."

Oh you little motherfucking... I'm blushing. I know I am. I can feel it. I reach down and cram another fry...hell, two...in my mouth. "Good. I just wanted to get that very clear." Still chewing my obscenely full mouthfull of potato, I grab my beer and gulp it half to empty. I wash down the bite, then pick up the bottle and finish it. I look around the area for the server to order another one, but of course her promises to give me whatever I need are as empty as the feeling in my gut. I keep looking.

"Your virtue's safe with me," says Krycek, eating the second half of his sandwich and then finishing his beer with a last lick all around the perimeter of his mouth. Fucking little cocktease. Where the hell's that goddamned server?

"Damn! Look at the time, Mulder!" He wipes his mouth with the napkin, even though there isn't a spot of juice left on either his lips or his chin, after that thorough tongue-bath, and puts a hand in the air. He makes a little motion for the check, and I turn in surprise to see our perky little server bringing it right over. Uh huh. When he needs the check, you're right here, practically panting. When I need a beer...

"I'll get this one." Alex throws some bills on the table before I can even get my mouth open and stands up, brushing crumbs down the front of his...want some help with that, partner? Shit. And I can't even get up yet. "I'm gonna use the facilities. Be right back."

Thank God. I nod, and he's walking away, and I don't even watch his ass, no longer covered by the tails of his hideous suit jacket, as it moves under his pants. Well, maybe a little...okay. Time to get rid of this thing. I start trying to think of the most horrific, disgusting, revolting thing I can. Travel vouchers and expense reports. The ones that are weeks overdue. Yep...going down nicely now. Well, I mean, shrinking. He exits the bathroom.

"Meet you back at the office, Mulder."

"Uh yeah...thanks for lunch."

"You bet." And with a little grin he's gone. I sigh and get up and drive back to the office on automatic.

When I get back to work, there's a memo on my desk. A fresh one that is. Quite different from the thirty or so old ones fluttering to the floor and shit. I snatch it up.

'Mulder-

I need some help with some research. Can you come down to the archives? I'll be in the 1910 area. Thanks, partner.

Alex'

Alex. Damned little shit. See if I ever call *him* Alex again. What the hell is he doing in the 1910 area, anyway? Sucking up by doing extra work? All right, Mulder. No more using words like 'sucking' in the same breath as 'Alex'. Krycek, I mean. Sighing, I crumple the note and shove it in my pocket as I head for the elevator down to the basement.

I step off the elevator and feel a dull pain at being on my old stomping grounds. I have to pass the office on my way to the archives, and my name's been taken off the door. Ouch. I keep walking, head down, to the end of the hall. I walk into the archive room and head for the corner with the 1910 cases. I actually know this dusty, dark old place pretty well, and I admit I kinda like it down here. No one ever comes down here...they all use computers. I like to touch things, though. Put my fingers on the old paper and scan the tip along as I read. Makes things real somehow.

Where is the little shit? I don't see him anywhere. "Krycek?"

"Over here, Mulder." That's not 1910. That's the little room to the side that holds old microfiche, for Christ's sake. I don't think those machines even work. What the hell is he doing in there? I roll my eyes and go to the room, and it's dark.

"Krycek?"

"Yeah, I'm in here."

Shrugging, I open the door and step in, controlling a sneeze as the dust motes attack me. I close the door behind me and turn around and suddenly I'm being shoved into the wall, hard, knocking the breath out of me a little. I open my mouth to suck air and I can't because it's being mashed up against hot, wet, stroking, licking...oh GOD yes...I'm instantly rock-hard again and I feel an answering ridge bumping against mine. He pulls away from me, biting my lower lip like I fantasized biting his, and I gasp to catch the breath he never let me get.

"Krycek??"

"MMmmm what happened to Alex?" Oh God I thought his voice was low and rough before...this is pure fucking SEX. Of course, his wet mouth sucking the side of my neck as his hands slide down the back of my pants isn't bad either. OR the way his hands are...oh fuck YEAH squeezing my ass and yanking it hard up against his hard-on. I groan helplessly, going liquid against the wall as he grinds and squeezes and sucks me stupid.

"Alex...Alex..." He wants to hear his name? I can do that. That's about all I can do. No, wait. I wrap my arms around that hard little body and yank the silly satinstripe shirt out of his pants, scratching his back in the process. He moans and jerks against me, clearly enjoying the small hurt. His hands pull out of the back of my pants and my ass feels cold without their heat, then it's at my chest as he quickly...way faster than I could...unbuttons my shirt, yanking it out of my pants. I'm working at his buttons too, and soon his shirt and mine are open and lucky me! neither of us are wearing undershirts and we mash our chests together, sliding sweatily as our hands move lower.

"Alex..." He bites me with a grunt and sucks hard. "Ah! God! Alex! I th-thought you weren't...didn't..." He's got my pants open now and they're falling to the floor, and now my ass really *does* feel cold as he yanks my underwear down, but do I give a fuck? Hell, yeah, and a damn good one, too. I'm pushing his pants down over his hips when they duck out from under me. Jesus Fucking Christ he's getting on his knees. Holy Mary Mother of God he's gonna do it.

"Didn't want you?" He growls, taking a big, wet lick up my thigh, fingers digging into my ass cheeks as he kneads them.

"Yes!" Oh yes, please! God! Just do it! He's licking higher, on my hip, sliding one hand around in front.

"I had to feel you out..." He grasps my cock and I cry out, the sound absorbed by the dusty old boxes all around us and muffled by the small size of the room. "See if you were really interested..." He squeezes and I groan, bucking forward, nearly falling over on top of him, catching myself with my hands on his sleek head. He nudges against my hands like a cat then leans in, mouth slightly open, hot breath blowing across the precum-wet tip of my dick. "The way I was." And he slurps me in, working that tongue, and oh...He moans against me and my hips thrust all by themselves, pushing me harder, deeper into that soft, pink, beautiful, sweet...Oh God he's sucking harder, still moving his tongue fast against the...under...underside and...fuck his hair is soft under that gel and...I feel a slight graze of teeth and whimper, mouth open in a silent scream...and then his finger works its way between my ass cheeks and the tip pushes into my ass and...

"FUCK! Jesus! Oh Christ, Alex! Uhhhhhhhh!" I'm pumping and thrusting, holding his head still while I jerk against his face and empty myself into his mouth. He hums against me, swallowing and slurping until I'm spent and shaking. I fall back against the wall, my cock slipping from his lips with a loud smack. My eyes are closed and I'm panting for breath, my knees weak and trembling. Then I feel hot breath on my face and smell cum.

"I'm interested," he whispers, low in my ear, and I whimper as his tongue flicks out, just once, before he steps back and starts doing up his pants and buttoning his shirt. Wait...wait...

"Wait...Alex...not done..."

He laughs, rumbling and quiet. "No, we're not. I'll be at your place at eight tonight." He slicks his hand through his hair and steps to the door and out and is gone before I can even reply.

Trembling and breathing hard, I get myself put back together and make my way back up to the bullpen. I'm relieved when I don't see Alex anywhere. I'm not sure how I could work with him today after *that*. I sink into my chair, blinking and swallowing, and hear someone come up behind me, a hot hand falling on my shoulder. My heart leaps as I think it's him, and I turn, a dazed smile working its way across my face totally unbidden. But's it's not him, it's McGraski, another agent. An asshole.

"Hey Spooky."

"McGraski."

"Saw that Krycek kid over at the canteen stuffing his pockets with candy bars. Guy must have a thing for chocolate."

Good to know. Now go away, McGraski.

"So, how's that partner thing working out, anyway?"

"Uh...just fine, thanks." Another hearty clap on the shoulder.

"Cool. Well, see ya 'round, Spook."

"Yeah, see ya." He's already gone.

I pull a small, crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket and lay it on my desk, smoothing out the wrinkles. Eight o'clock, huh? That'll give me time to stop at See's. Yeah, this partner thing is working out just fine.

Seven-thirty and I'm hard a rock, wishing I'd worn jeans that were less tight, but also wanting to look...well...hot for him! Jesus...how'd I get from being the one in control here to being the one panting after one little junior partner's tight little ass? Oh yeah. That fucking mind-blowing cocksuck in the archives...it was probably right around that time, I'd say.

Will he like this white dress shirt? Do I look too...I dunno...clean?? Jesus. What is this, fucking prom night? I rake my fingers through my hair and pick the box of chocolates up off the table again, fingering the gold ribbon, feeling like an idiot.

I can't remember the last time I wanted to fuck somebody this bad.

What is it? Is it the innocent, doting young agent I thought was there, juxtaposed with the obviously quite experienced and very talented badboy that yanked my underwear down in the basement? Is it the tight little body that moves with a slippery grace that doesn't let you look away? Or that low, gravelly groan of a voice that would sound sexy reading off tax forms? Or the dark, long lashes that curl up around eyes that just *scream* 'fuck me!'? Or those soft, pink, sweet lips that are usually curved into a shy smile, just begging to be pressed apart with a cockhead, smearing them with precum and....Oh yeah. I think it's all of the above.

I reach down and absently drag my nails up the ridge under my jeans and grunt, surprised at how intense that feels. I could come, through my jeans, just thinking about him and barely touching myself. I've already come without touching myself, dreaming of those soft lips working their way up my body, sucking on my mouth as I push him up against the wall and....

'Knock knock.'

FUCK. He's here. My cock hardens further, though I didn't know that was possible, and I think there's a tiny wet stain on my crotch, but I don't think he'll notice...unless he gets reeeealllly close. SIGH

I adjust myself and get off the couch, putting the chocolates down on the table and going to the door. I take a deep breath, licking and biting my lower lip, then without even looking through the viewhole, open the door.

FUCK. ME. And I mean right fucking NOW. He's standing there, hands in his pockets, dressed in fucking *leather* from neck to toes. Did I just come? No? If he touches me...ANYwhere...I will. Don't touch me, Alex. Don't...god fuck yeah please touch me. He's licking his lips slowly, looking me up and down. I can't do anything but watch. Uh...maybe I should close my mouth, slurp up the drool, and invite him in?

"H-hi."

"Hey Mulder."

"Cuh-Come in."

One corner of his fuckable mouth pulls up in a grin and he steps in past me. I sway on my feet as the smell of that cologne...and that 'Alex'...assails my senses. My jaw hurts from clenching. Can a man survive this level of arousal? Jesus, I feel like such a dork, hands shaking as I press the door closed. I turn around, no words in my closed throat, and feel the breath driven from me again as I'm slammed back against my front door by a long, hard length of leather and a soft, wet mouth grinds down on mine with a low, hungry growl.

Uhhhhhhnnn God yes...Just like this...Oh GOD. My nails are scratching the leather stretched across his ass as I try to yank him in closer, even though the way he's grinding against me is already causing a sharp, throbbing pain along with the intense, dizzying pleasure. Oh. God. I'm gonna...

"Aluh..." Breathe...breathe...

He just grunts and keeps grinding and sucking my mouth, one hand pulling my face in by the back of my neck, the other starting to rip my jeans open frantically. I can't even move my hands from his ass, paralyzed by blinding pleasure as my body climbs a peak that I think it's gonna kill me to reach. I'm moaning into his mouth, unable to escape it, feeling his hand tug my fly open, and he grunts his appreciation loudly as he finds I'm not wearing underwear. His hand grabs hold of my tortured, throbbing, painfully aroused cock and I'm

Coming! Hard! Fuck! I'm screaming into his mouth and he's swallowing it into his kiss as I pulse and jerk and shudder against him, hips twitching in aborted thrusts, each spurt driving a grunting whimper from my throat as I cover us both with more semen than I've lost in a week of wet-dreaming about him.

"Uhhhhhhh...." I sag against the door, starting to slide down and his arm comes around my waist, hard and strong.

"No you don't..." He yanks me up, pressing me back against the door, holding me up with the force of his body. "Just hold on there, Mulder." There's an arrogant edge in his voice but I don't give one flying fuck as I struggle to open my eyes and get back control of my motor functions. I feel his lips tickling against hot, sweaty skin as he places soft kisses on my neck and each one makes me jerk against him, my skin's sensitivity making them burn and scrape. Finally, my lids aren't so heavy and I blink myself clear, coming to with the smell of his un-gelled, silky dark hair thick in my nostrils.

"Alex..."

"Well, hey. Now that we got that out of the way..." He pulls back from my neck to look at me, his eyes glowing green in the low light of my apartment, his pupils huge and black as he stares at me.

"I...Fuck, I'm sorry..." I feel like a fourteen-year-old who just got his first grope in the dark. He's gonna think I'm a complete loser. But I can usually last...

"Don't be. You're fucking amazing when you come, Mulder. I could make you come all day."

My eyes close at this, my heart stuttering in my chest. He steps back.

"Where's your bathroom?" He's looking down at the slippery mess I deposited all over his leathers.

"Oh. Uh...in there." I point into my apartment.

"Thanks. You okay there?" His brows are raised, his eyes twinkling, but not mean.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumble, blushing head to toe, leaning forward off the door. I start to do up my pants, then realize they're covered in spunk, so just hold the edges of my fly in my hands, my spent cock starting to swell again already. Will I survive this night? He smiles at me again, up through lashes, but this is *not* the innocent, pretty boy lash treatment. This is...God I'm not gonna survive the night. My sticky cock twitches in my jeans. "Uh...I'm gonna go change."

He looks down at my cock, then back up my face and nods, turning and walking with that liquid grace, headed to my bathroom. As soon as the door closes behind him, I sag back against the door with a heavy sigh.

Get it together, Mulder. God, what? Does he fucking own you? Well...if he can make me feel that good *all* the time...sighing again, I push off the door and head for my bedroom.

I have some leathers, too, from my college days scamming in the bars, but I think it would somehow be an insult now to put them on. It's Alex's place, at least tonight, to wear the leathers. And god knows I don't want to disrupt this wicked energy by fucking with it. I peel my jeans down my thighs and step out of them carefully, then unbutton my spattered shirt and pull it off. Okay, so...knowing what I now know about my junior partner, what would he like to see me in? I think he likes the power differential...how it's opposite the one we have at work. Truthfully? So do I. Okay, so. How to give him that message?

Well, another pair of jeans, still no underwear, I would think. This time I'm wearing button-fly to make things easier. I don't like those little zipper teeth so close to my swollen, thrumming flesh, even at the mercy of his amazingly nimble fingers. I reach for the Kleenex at the side of my bed and spit on it, wiping myself off as best I can before slipping on a clean pair of jeans. I still smell like cum, but I have this nasty feeling that Alex might like that. I kinda do.

So, I'm in my jeans, barefoot, reaching for my shoes, then I think...what better way to make myself vulnerable than to go sans shoes next to his hard, black boots. Mmmmmmmmm....I didn't know I'd enjoy submission this much. My erection is already feeling quite confined against my clean, dry jeans. Sigh. Yeah, here in my apartment, away from the bullpen, this Alex kid definitely has the upper hand. And I'm kinda freaked out by how much I like that.

Shirt, Mulder. Pick one. He's gonna be out there waiting for you. Don't wanna keep him waiting...hmm...this chocolate brown long-sleeved mockneck might be the one...he likes chocolate. I'm grinning like an idiot as I slip it over my head and tuck it in. I hear the bathroom door come open and the heavy clunks of his boots on my hardwood floor. He's in the kitchen, sounds like. A last, nervous rake through my hair and I step out silently, padding into the kitchen.

I stop in the doorway, and he's squatting in front of my fridge. I'm not sure what to say, so I don't say anything. I wait for him to close the fridge door standing between us, and he catches sight of me leaning against the doorjamb, fingers shallowly pushed into the pockets of my jeans, watching him. He grins again, looking me over from head to bare toes and back. His lips purse in appraisal then curl into an approving smile with a single rise of his brows. I sigh quietly in relief.

"Well," he says with a sigh. "Got any good music around here? I can already see that you drink shit beer."

"Uhhh stereo's in there," I answer, leaning up off the door frame, taking my hands out of my pockets. He nods and steps toward me and I stop breathing. He reaches out with his soft, quick hand and grabs me around the back of the neck, yanking me in for a hard kiss. I feel his tongue thrust into my mouth for a few breathless seconds and he pulls away, wiping the saliva off my lips with his thumb. Gah.

"In here?" He motions toward the living room with his head and I nod dumbly. He nods back and steps around me. Sighing, I turn and follow him. He's found my stash of CD's and he's sorting through them carelessly, tossing the discards on the console. They're all discards. I bite my lip, anxious that he's not happy with my musical tastes. He sighs and turns to the radio dial, and twists it until hard rock is pounding through the speakers, shaking the floor. This'll be a first for my neighbors...which is hopefully what will keep them from calling the cops.

He turns around and glides over to me, sliding one hand up my back to the base of my neck, and wrapping the other low around my waist, sliding his hand into my back pocket. He pulls me in close, and I raise my arms, sliding them around to his back, feeling the zipper on his open jacket snag the soft cotton of my shirt.

"Do you like to dance?" he murmurs in my ear, tickling me and making me shiver against him. No, Alex...I really don't care for...oh...his crotch is bumping hard against mine to the beat and he's squeezing my ass cheek, hard.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Alex. Remember? Say it, Mulder."

"Alex..." I sigh, feeling helpless. He groans and pulls me closer, and I can tell he's like a length of wood under those tight leather pants.

"God, I love it when you say my name, Mulder. Makes me hard." He slides his hand down my arm and grabs my hand, placing it firmly on his hard bulge. I grunt, feeling his heat even through the tight animal skin. "You wanna help me with this, Mulder?" He nuzzles my ear, sticking his tongue into it deeply, making me squirm.

"God, yes, Alex," I moan, squeezing his throbbing cock through his pants. He gasps into my ear and bites down on my earlobe, grinding my hand between our two groins, crushing it between his hardness and mine.

"You suck good cock?" he asks, his voice sounding beautifully strained. "God, I'll bet you do, with that mouth." And he slides his wet lips across my cheek and sticks his tongue into my mouth, deep, nearly choking me, stealing my oxygen.

"Nnnnnggg..." I moan against his tongue. I'm squeezing and rubbing hard on his erection now, cursing the unyielding leather confining it. I wait for him to pull out of my mouth, and I place my lips at the corner of his, lightly. "Yes, Alex. I suck good cock."

"NNnnohhhhh..." He groans, his gorgeous eyes closing, mouth dropping open. You like that, Alex? I flick my tongue, tasting the corner of his mouth, and start to unfasten his pants. I lick, gently and slowly, against his lips and teeth as my hands work more quickly down below, and he's making this delicious, low, rumbling groan the whole time, until I finally have his pants open. I reach down inside, so eager to feel *his* cock after already having the pleasure of his hand and mouth on mine.

I slide my fingers around his hot, thick length and squeeze, shuddering. He moans, sounding almost helpless, then grabs my hair painfully and yanks my face in for a bruising kiss.

I start to move my hand up his shaft and he pulls me off his mouth noisily, then pushes hard on the back of my neck, forcing me to my knees in front of him. I'm drooling as my face is lowered to right in front of his crotch. I'm inhaling him and swallowing back the saliva in my mouth, licking my lips frantically.

"God, do it!" he says, shoving me forward just a little, but not putting me in contact with him. He wants me to do everything, I can tell. I sigh heavily and lean forward, my tongue extending forward between parted lips, my breaths coming hard and fast as I anticipate his taste.

"Unnnngggg..." I stroke the tip of my tongue across the head of his cock, tasting salty precum, then, unable to stand the absence of him, I wrap my lips and tongue around it and suck like it's the sweetest piece of hard candy.

"Ahhhh!" He's crying out above me, and I smile around his cock, happy at how I seem to be pleasing him. I stretch my tongue out as far as it will go, licking hard against the underside of his shaft as far down as I can, then sucking him to the tip, swallowing back my own drool, then going back down again with a grunt.

"Shhhhiii...fuck....Mulder...." His voice is tight and strained and it's never sounded hotter. I'm gripping his perfect ass with both hands, and I realize my fingers are sunk deep into his flesh, probably bruising him. I quickly relax my grip, sliding one hand inward, then down the tightly clenched furrow between his cheeks. They part for me and he shifts his feet apart further, holding me by the hair.

I suck on him hard, tongue rubbing so hard it burns, and he makes small, jerky thrusts into my mouth, so careful not to hurt me that it makes me moan and open wider to take him deeper. I work my finger deeper in between his ass cheeks, sliding my other hand up his side, fingering him under his black turtleneck, feeling for his nipple. I find it with my nails and his whole body undulates as he gasps and yanks my face in closer. I groan against his cockhead.

I gag a little as it presses against the back of my throat, and I pull back just enough to get my breath and keep working him. He's making a closed-mouth whimper now, deep in his throat. "Nnn...Nnn...Nnn..." It's continuous except for the times he stops to take a sharp breath. I feel my fingers brush over his hot, wrinkled opening, and open my throat, purposely choking myself on his cock as I shove my finger up his ass, pinching his nipple hard between thumb and finger.

"GAHHHHH!" He comes explosively, ramming himself painfully down my throat, jerking and thrusting and yanking my hair in an agonizing grip as I struggle to breathe through my nose and make my stretched, bruised throat muscles swallow the cum that is rapidly overwhelming me and dribbling out the corners of my mouth. I swallow convulsively, and finally I feel his thrusts become less urgent, slowing, and his grip on my hair relaxes, sending a shiver through my whole body. I pull my finger slowly from his ass, making him grunt low in his throat, and he slowly pulls out of my mouth, my tongue trying to lick up all the bitter, salty spilled fluid.

"Uh...uh..." He grunts with each swipe of my tongue on his too-sensitive cock, jerking back a little more with each stroke until he's pushing my head back by my hair, gasping for breath. I slurp and lick and smack, trying to clean all the cum off my mouth and chin, dragging my hands off his body and falling forward on them to support myself, breathless.

I hear a whump sound and smell him even more strongly, and I lift my head to see that he's gone down on his knees in front of me and is reaching for me. I lift up off my hands, and he pulls me in, fastening his mouth to mine, helping me clean his semen off my lips and sucking it out of my mouth as he groans and strokes the inside of it with his tongue. I let him have this kiss, giving my own tired tongue and lips a rest, just melting into his embrace, sliding my hands around his torso under his jacket as he pulls me in tight against him.

He pulls back, placing grunting kisses on my sticky lips. "Oh Mulder, Jesus, fuck, Mulder..."

"Sounds like a plan," I gasp under his kisses, eyes closed, panting.

"Mm hmm hmm..." he chuckles against my lips. "You're fucking unbelievable, you know that?"

"But you want to believe," I say with a smirk, "right?"

I open my eyes to check his reaction, and his are narrowed, a serious look on his face as he studies me, inches from my face, our eyes locked. He finally sighs deeply, and I feel his chest move against mine. "I do, Mulder. I believe." I grin and lay my head on his shoulder, my lips moving lazily against his neck. He groans and tilts his head to the side, and I lick and kiss him, enjoying the deep sighs and little grunts this brings rumbling from his lips. I speak against his neck.

"Why don't we have some pizza or something before round two?"

"What are you, psychic or something, Spooky?"

I'll admit, the nickname hurts for a second, and somehow he can sense that as my lips stop moving against his skin. He pulls back, sliding one hand up to cup the side of my face.

"Hey," his voice is a low rasp. "You know why they call you that, don't you?"

I look down into the space between our bodies, not wanting to talk about this.

"Because you're so fucking good, it's spooky," he continues with complete sincerity. "You leave all those stupid, lazy fuckers in the dust, and all they can do is pout and whine and call you names. You're in a class all your own, Mulder. You *are* a class. A level they'll never reach." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips and they twitch against him.

No one...and I mean *no one* has ever said anything like that to me. Superiors have clapped me on the back, praising my skills and giving me a wide berth, but I always felt like that just made me a freak, something they could use but never really accept. I'd gotten used to it, and really never expected anyone to accept or like the real me. I'm still reeling under the power of it when he speaks again.

"But we need a new nickname for you," he says, pulling back and licking his lips. "One that I can use, even at work, and no one else will hear it. No one will know."

I don't have to ask 'Know what?' because I already know the answer to that. That we're lovers. That...I'm...falling in love with him.

"I...I think I like 'Spooky' now," I say quietly, feeling how true it is. I know, now, that when I hear people call me that, I'm going to think of Alex's explanation, and the sound of his voice, and feel of his lips, and it's going to make me feel good and happy and warm, instead of awkward and distant and rejected.

"Spooky, then," he says softly, sealing the decision with a kiss. "Now, what do you want to call me?"

The only thing I want to call him is 'lover.' My lover. Mine. Nobody else's. A fierce flash of possessiveness grips me, making me tighten my hold on his body.

"Mine," I growl, staring into this eyes, looking for the least bit of displeasure.

His smile steals my breath, and he sighs heavily against me, pulling me in, laying his head on my shoulder, lips against my ear.

"Yours."