RATING: NC-17 for m/m interaction

CATEGORY: VR, slash (Mulder/Skinner)

SPOILERS: none

SUMMARY: Mulder's overactive imagination runs away with him.

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Mulder and Skinner are the creation and property of CC. 1013 Productions, Fox Television and the talented actors who give them life. No money is being made from their use here, and no infringement of copyright is intended.

FEEDBACK: is always appreciated and answered at: sergeeva@walteris.vbeautiful.co.uk

THE SERIES SO FAR:

The Walk (Rarest Man: Prologue)

Rarest Man: Test of Endurance

Rarest Man: Wet Dream

Rarest Man: Resolution

Rarest Man: Famine & Feast

Rarest Man: Duty Before Pleasure

Rarest Man: Body of Evidence

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"He is simply the rarest man i' th' world"

Shakespeare - Coriolanus 4,v,161

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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 skull - 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

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