By joan the english chick

Disclaimer: The characters are property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and Fox Television, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Additionally, all song lyrics quoted in this story are property of Queen.
Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual interaction between two men. Please do not read it if such things offend you, or if you are under the legal age in your location.

"I'm a shooting star racing through the sky, like a tiger
Defying the laws of gravity...
I'm a racing car passing by, like Lady Godiva....
I gotta go, go, go, there's no stopping me...."

It was late, about 11PM on a Friday, and Fox Mulder had the stereo blaring, safe in the knowledge that every sane FBI agent (or at least all those with social lives) was long gone. His partner Scully, one of the sane, was gone as well, and Mulder was taking advantage of his solitude to play the Queen tapes she so disliked. He had squirmed his way through "Body Language" (a song so blatantly sexual it turned him on, and he sometimes thought he should play it for Scully, but the lyric "You got the cutest ass I've ever seen" always stopped him...it was true, but he could just picture Scully's expression, and it wasn't pretty!) and now it was one of his favorites, "Don't Stop Me Now."

Unfortunately for Mulder, he was about to be stopped. A drum beat that Freddie Mercury never wrote interrupted Mulder's perusal of the day's pickings from alt.ufo.sightings, and with a start he realized it was someone knocking on the door.

Reaching over, Mulder reluctantly turned the music off and called, "It's open!" The door swung open, and Assistant Director Walter Skinner walked in. Surprised, Mulder got to his feet.

"Sir, twice in two weeks. This is a surprise." He noticed that although Skinner no longer used a cane to walk, he did still sport some fading bruises on his face from the attentions of the unhappy records clerk.

"No need to get up, Mulder," Skinner said, seating himself across the desk from Mulder. "I thought we should have another little talk."

"Oh? Seems to me you've said what needed to be said," Mulder replied somewhat insolently, sitting back down. He figured at this hour on a Friday night he didn't have to kiss up to his boss.

Skinner grinned. "So it would seem, Mulder. But it seems to *me* that in your particular line of work, and given your...shall we say unique personality....well, frankly, I can't help wondering whether you'd recognize the truth if it were told to you."

Mulder raised his eyebrows. This was interesting. Skinner didn't usually talk like this. "Do I take it you're planning to shoot some truth my way... *sir*?" he asked boldly. The teasing tone in his voice was the same tone he used when he flirted -- always comfortably, always safely -- with Scully.

Skinner, however, didn't miss the flirtatious tone of the question, nor was he oblivious to the coquettish tilt of Mulder's head, which under other circumstances might even have been called seductive. Skinner had always thought of Mulder as sexually uninhibited -- his file seemed to so indicate -- but the extent of it was as yet undetermined.

"I'm considering it, Mulder. But as I said, I don't know whether you'll be able to believe it."

Mulder pursed his lips -- apparently unconscious of the effect the action had on his superior -- and turned to look at the wall. The words "I Want To Believe" blared from his poster like a silent testimony. "I'll do my best," he said.

"Fair enough." Skinner crossed his legs slowly, deliberately, as he carefully assembled the most suitable phrasing. "Last week when I visited you here, I told you that I back you up because it's my job. That wasn't entirely true."

"No?" Mulder leaned forward, his attention wholly captured.

"No." Skinner got to his feet and ambled leisurely toward the file cabinet in the corner, keenly aware of the way Mulder's feline eyes followed him, like those of a panther deciding whether (or when) to strike. He turned back to face the younger agent, leaning with deceptive languor against the cabinet. "The truth, Mulder, is that I support you because I believe in you. Not necessarily in your work, your cause ... but always in you."

The heat in Mulder's eyes was unreadable. He stood up and walked toward his superior. "You don't know how ... strange it is to hear that," Mulder said quietly, and Skinner saw that the honesty was almost painful for him. "It's been so long since anyone believed in me, anyone but Scully."

At the mention of the woman, Skinner turned his head away, gazing off for a moment into the middle distance. Finally he said, "Mulder, the relationship you have with Scully is a large part of what keeps me on your side. She *was* sent to spy on you, originally, and I don't think any of us fully realizes how badly that particular mission has failed."

Mulder's eyes widened in surprise at the admission, and as Skinner finished speaking, he grinned, that slow lazy smile that so many women surely mistook for a come-on ... but Skinner saw the irony in it, the cynical amusement. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it...." Mulder murmured, and the already charged air between them fairly hummed with unspoken double-entendres.

A long pause, and Skinner licked his lips deliberately, watching Mulder's eyes follow his tongue, both men enjoying being watched as well as watching. "So, Mulder," he said somewhat huskily, and didn't bother to clear his throat, "the truth doesn't seem to faze you."

The slow sexy grin returned, and all pretense fled Mulder's eyes as he replied, "I can take whatever you've got."

No decision seemed to need making; the air between them simply disappeared and their lips met as if they had always been thus, two slightly stubbly chins scraping together as their hot wet tongues clashed sweetly. The sigh or moan of pleasure, satisfaction, anticipation might as well have come from either throat.

Mulder was slightly taller, and he leaned downward, both his hands on the filing cabinet behind the AD. Skinner's hands rested lightly on Mulder's slender waist and he seemed to have no discomfort whatsoever with his trapped position. In fact, if either man could be said to be more in control it was Skinner, but it was Mulder who broke the kiss, gasping for air as he pulled his mouth away, though he continued to press his long, lanky body against Skinner's more compact form.

Sliding his hands up underneath Mulder's shirt, Skinner used his mouth to push the younger man's head upwards, shifting to suck and nibble at the tender flesh of Mulder's neck as he arched his head back, groaning again, moving his hands to clasp the broad shoulders. Skinner's thumbs brushed his nipples and he gasped, sliding his hands down, cupping one set of long fingers boldly around the thick bulge in Skinner's trousers.

With shocking suddenness Mulder sank liquidly to his knees, surprising Skinner, whose slow reaction time lost him the advantage as Mulder swiftly pulled open his pants and let loose his half-hard cock, as thickly and stoutly built as Skinner himself. Without any preamble Mulder slipped it between his lips and sucked firmly, swirling his flattened tongue around the swollen head. Skinner tossed his head back and moaned with pleasure. "You've done this before," he observed, answering the question that had occurred to him on the way here.

Mulder looked up, and the sight of him peering through his thick hair up at the man whose stiff cock was half in his mouth almost made Skinner lose control, right then and there. He let it pop out from between his lips with a soft sucking sound, and replied, "So have you. But not for a long time...." Skinner wasn't sure whether the second sentence referred to him, or to Mulder himself. He didn't care; either way it was probably true. And either way, he didn't get long to dwell on it; Mulder lowered his head again, and went back to work. For a moment Skinner abandoned himself to the ecstasy, but only for a moment; his hands itched to touch Mulder and he didn't want to be finished too soon. Pulling off his shirt, he slid down until he was kneeling in front of Mulder, reaching greedily for the buttons of the other man's shirt as well, tugging them away until both were bare-chested.

Skinner grabbed one of Mulder's already hard nipples and tweaked it firmly, drawing a whimper of combined pain and pleasure. With his free hand he reached down and found Mulder's own bare erection, tugging it loose from his unbuttoned jeans, stroking it lightly with just his fingertips. Mulder shuddered and leaned forward to put his mouth on Skinner's ear, whispering "There's a tube of KY in my desk drawer...."

Skinner sat back on his heels and looked with mingled desire and doubt at the younger agent. "You don't say," he commented drily, thoughtfully, as he considered the many implications of Mulder's words....and of the act toward which they were hurtling at a passionate speed.

The sexy twinkle was back in Mulder's eyes. "Do you want it?" he asked without artifice. Skinner had to sigh. There was no denying what his aching cock wanted, and if a glance were judge, the same held true for Mulder.

"Get it," he said briefly, and kicked off his shoes so he could remove his pants fully. He returned to the file cabinet and leaned against it again, fully naked now, gently stroking his impatient erection as he watched Mulder's lean, tanned body move with feline grace toward and then away from the desk.

Mulder approached and they kissed again, almost a deja-vu only this time their naked genitals rubbed together, both men moaning, hands sliding across bare sweaty skin. Skinner moved his hands down to Mulder's soft, tight ass, squeezing it, pulling it hard against him. Mulder thrust forward in response, and his teeth caught at Skinner's tongue, tugging at it with a playful urgency. They spun around so it was Mulder whose back pressed against the cold metal, Skinner whose body created the final barrier to hold him in. Mulder squirmed with eager lust, pushing his hand between them to caress Skinner's balls, his fingers casually brushing the older man's thick erection. They thrust together again, and both moaned again.

Skinner grabbed both Mulder's shoulders and spun him around again, this time pressing his chest against the file cabinet. He pressed himself against Mulder, his cock a hot pressure against his buttocks. Mulder shivered with anticipation. Skinner pressed himself forward more tightly, kissing Mulder's neck and shoulder, gently removing the tube of lubricant from his long fingers.

Mulder made no sound, almost holding his breath as Skinner caressed the silky skin of his ass and teased his opening with a gel-covered finger, finally pressing his thumb inside to spread the lube around. Mulder reached his own hand back and felt for Skinner's big erection, already greasy with the jelly. He stroked it firmly, spreading the gel around more, and with a grunt Skinner pushed his hand away and entered him.

Mulder made a soft exclamation, a yelp or gasp of excitement, and pressed his ass back, thrusting himself onto the invading cock in an obviously practiced movement. With shocking suddenness it was all the way in, and both men groaned as Skinner began to move, slowly, then building up speed as the excitement grew. He reached around to grab Mulder's rock-hard cock, stroking it in time with the rhythm of his thrusts, and Mulder moaned, his legs giving out. He sank to the floor, kneeling, Skinner staying with him all the way. Mulder leaned his forehead against the cabinet and pushed his ass eagerly back, pumping, squeezing the muscle as tightly as he could around Skinner's cock, until the pressure built to its peak and they both came in a rush, moaning, gasping.

After a moment, Skinner pulled his softening cock out, bringing along with it a flood of semen from Mulder's relaxing anus. He sat back, pulling Mulder along with him, holding him against his chest as their breathing slowed. A few quiet minutes passed before Mulder shifted and looked up, meeting Skinner's eyes upside down.

"Sir," he said, the title almost a term of endearment, "if you don't mind, I'll...."

"Let me," Skinner replied, interrupting him smoothly. He helped Mulder stand and turned him around, still kneeling, putting his mouth to Mulder's opening to clean it off with his tongue. Mulder groaned weakly. In an instant, Skinner turned him around, moving his attentions to Mulder's cock, which was sticky with his own semen. It had hardened again at the first touch of the AD's tongue on his ass, and it throbbed fiercely as he cleaned it with his tongue. Almost instantly Mulder gave a yell and climaxed again, shooting more semen directly into Skinner's mouth, where he swallowed it with equilibrium.

Skinner stood and kissed the panting Mulder again, both their semen mixing on his tongue. He could feel Mulder's hands rising to touch him again, and knew that this could go on for hours; the boy obviously knew plenty of tricks. Skinner pushed him away, reluctantly.

"Go clean up, Mulder." He smiled slightly. "And think about what I said."

"No fear," Mulder muttered as he walked, completely unself-consciously, toward the bathroom that luckily adjoined the X-Files office. Skinner smiled at the Britishism, likely picked up during Mulder's years at Oxford. He grabbed a Kleenex from Scully's desk and used it to wipe off his own somewhat sticky penis.

"Sir?" Mulder poked his head out from the bathroom as Skinner was tucking his shirt back in to his pants. "You said you believe in me ... but do you trust me?"

"You're the paranoid in this outfit, Mulder. Do *you* trust *me*?"

"The writing on the wall says trust no one," Mulder said. "You start trusting someone ... next thing you know, you're fucked." Both men silently appreciated the pun, looking at each other.

Skinner reached over to the stereo and pressed the play button. "You know where I live. Have a nice weekend, Mulder," he said, and ambled out the door as Freddie Mercury began to sing again.

"I'm a sex machine ready to reload...
Like an atom bomb
About to oh, oh, oh, explode!"