Morning by Te 8/98 Disclaimers: Mine, mine, mine. Mine. Spoilers: Nope Summary: A morning with Alex. Ratings Note: NC-17 for m/m interaction. S for Schmoop. Author's Note: Di came home, and asked me to tell her a story. Acknowledgments: To Kass, for beta and much-appreciated argument, and to Alicia, because no one nit-picks like my baby. Feedback: Please. Always. Daddy793@aol.com Morning by Te ****** //I want. //What do you want?// Mulder gazed down at his lover, buried pale fingers in the soft, spiky hair. Alex had a habit of falling asleep this way, curled up and scrunched and... pillowed, if you could call it that, in the hollow of the older man's hip. It seemed terribly impractical, out of character for the younger man. Mulder had no clue how he breathed that way, and why his spine didn't yell at him in the mornings. But he had to admit that it felt good, the tickle of warm breath, the somehow homey sting of stubble on his flesh. And, God, but he could stroke and pet and hold that head just as close as he wanted to. A semi-conscious nuzzle and Mulder was reminded that his skin wasn't entirely desensitized to Alex's touch.... His fingers tightened in the dark hair involuntarily and *that* woke the other man up for real. Drag of kiss-bruised lips along the curve of his hip, up and over his abdomen as Alex uncoiled himself over Mulder. Silent save for a sleepy, animal murmur that did nothing to mask the whisper of skin on skin. As always, Mulder licked his own lips to prepare for a kiss. As always in these mornings, Alex never quite made it there, instead burying himself in the older man's throat and kissing... //I love you, I love you, I love you...// .... again and again. Alex was shy about his breath in the morning. Absurd for a man who never let a blow job pass without a kiss, but that's the way he was. Mulder knew the other man could spend hours worrying his throat if it were allowed. "Good morning..." His own voice was a gritty rasp, and just as unsteady as he knew it would be, draped with the tamed demon doing his best to kiss his way inside him. A husky chuckle that set Mulder's hairs on end, did its best to spread his legs. "Morning." One last, slow lick and Alex was settling himself again. "Are we waking up yet?" Warm, dry hand stroking his torso steadily, and with apparent nonchalance. "No." Mulder caught the hand and nudged it south. He wanted to smile at the immediate, expert attention, but could only gasp quietly and thrust into the willing hand. "No?" It came out multi-syllabic. Another chuckle, this time from the vicinity of his nipple. "No." Mulder heard himself groan and abruptly went cold. The sound was shocking in its lushness and made him remember responsibilities left behind at the first hint of leather last night. "Alex, we can't do this now..." A growl, a bite that had him arching into the torturing, angry mouth before he was released. For the first time that morning Mulder found himself staring into the eyes of his lover. "Why not?" Caught and held, the older man couldn't help but watch as Alex ran his tongue out to tease the small hurt. He was dimly aware that his hips had never stopped thrusting into the obliging fist. Mulder swallowed with an audible click, ran a hand over the leanly muscled form, laughed breathlessly. "I have no idea." The answering smile was a shadow of wickedness over affection, before Alex bent his head to work Mulder's nipples some more. A seemingly random deposit of assorted nibbles, kisses, and briefly vicious bites, a gentle, knowing hand below. Mulder threw his head back and let his body writhe shamelessly under the younger man's touch. This was all there was for him, the relentless adoration of the borderline sociopath. Utterly inescapable, rarefied and pure. All that was wanted was that he accept it for what it was, perhaps learn to return the favor. Alex coaxed a score of moans, meaningless gasps of need, and Mulder could hear the younger man's breathing coarsen as he approached the edge. Closer, closer still, and when he cried out for real Mulder found his mouth claimed, ruthlessly. Needful tongue thrusting in counterpoint to his own mindless hips pulled him over, finally, sobbing into the unexpected kiss. A time of damp heat, and slow, brittle joy passed and Mulder came back to himself. Alex was propped against the headboard, stroking himself absently, gazing down at the older man with something almost too subtle to be understood. Another man might fear... Mulder pulled the liquid of his bones into something like order, arranged himself in a way that allowed easy access to the warm, silky flesh. He tasted his way along one lightly trembling thigh, indulging until he felt the hand fall in his own hair, thread itself urgently. Mulder didn't, couldn't hesitate, taking Alex as deep as he could. Slick bluntness along his tongue, salt and oil and Mulder wanted a better position, wanted to be victimized by honeyhipped thrusts, wanted to be used and enjoyed. He made a promise to himself about later, and set about trying to explain it with the hollow of his cheeks and the flick of his tongue. Alex quickly lost coherence, began to pump awkwardly and gasp. A slow burn at the feel of slick, straining flesh against bruised lips, too soon and useless but not unexpected. "Mulder!" A warning and a cue and the older man pulled off just far enough to allow himself to taste before he swallowed. There was a comfort in this, an ease in the submission of their indignities to each other, night after night, morning after morning. When Alex pushed him off, Mulder laid his head on the lightly heaving abdomen and allowed himself to drift back to sleep. End.