Asking For It by Te 6/98 Daddy793@aol.com In a message dated 6/29/98 9:20:46 PM, Woodinat provoked: <> Well, fine. Tell *all* my secrets. Ummm... But you *did* make me think of this. That's right, Soon To Be Regretful Woodinat Creature. It's *your* fault. ********* "You gonna kiss me again, Krycek?" "Yes." "What if I don't want you to?" Alex slipped his hand down to the front of Mulder's trousers, squeezed just hard enough to get a hiss. "Rather a rhetorical question, don't you think?" "Don't be such a... smug... bastard. I don't want you to kiss me." Trim hips were bucking against him already, struggling for contact. Mulder was flushed, lips parted and pupils dilating before his eyes. Alex leaned in and smiled. "No?'" And then that mouth was hard on his own, striking and sucking. A kiss more of hidden teeth than lips and Alex let the other man have his way, parting for the desperate tongue, relaxing for the palms that cupped his jaw. It was difficult not to respond, but there was a principle to be upheld. After a time he felt the grip on his face tighten and opened his eyes to bask in the confusion and anger. "Damn you, Kry--" "I *am* going to kiss you, Mulder." "What?" Less a question than a stunned exhalation of breath, really. The older man slumped against the wall and Alex was briefly disturbed by just how cold he felt without Mulder pressed against him. He solved the problem by closing the distance between them again, bracing his arm just to the side of Mulder's head and allowing their bodies to touch in brief moments of heat. "I said, I'm still going to kiss you." He nuzzled the pale throat, bumping his nose against the pulse, brushing lips against blushed skin... there was a scent of sweat and want and man and Alex felt an ache... he needed to taste this soon. "But I'll let you choose where." He forced himself to pull back and god those lips were right there so close and still a little damp oh they would feel so good... a little farther and Alex was gazing into the relative safety of black pools rimmed with green. "Tell me where you want it, Mulder." A slow roll of hips to bring hardness against its like. "Where do you want me to kiss you?" Mulder's hands were on his waist, squeezing, rubbing over his abdomen, threatening further travel but not delivering. They stood eye to eye, unable to remain perfectly still despite the nature of the game. There was a drag in the air, an undertow of sweet molasses and salt that seemed to pull eyelids down; make lips hopelessly dry, demanding of a tongue to slip out and they were close so close... Alex pulled back again, tried to shake some of the haze away, but when he spoke again, his voice was roughened and hoarse. "Ask for it, Mulder." Some animal sound of need, a desperate grab for the waistband of his jeans that it *hurt* to avoid... Finally, Mulder just looked at him. Eyes dark and unreadable, difficult to meet. Pale hand raised, hesitating... He was thinking about it. Christ. Alex could feel his jeans constricting him painfully. Mulder's fingers moved, hovered... came to rest on his own throat. The younger man felt the words 'Are you sure' bubble cruelly up, but seeing the way the hand just stayed there... waiting for him to move... He dove for the spot, unable to be gentle, catching a fingertip with his teeth before Mulder pulled it away and there was the taste he was waiting for and the hand found its way to his nape and settled there, rubbing, pulling him closer still and he was shuddering, biting and sucking and there was another hand catching and holding him where he needed it most... "Mulder..." Hand in his hair, hand working open the buttons of his jeans one by one... Jesus. "Are you done with that spot yet? 'Cause I have a few other requests..."