DISCLAIMER:  I know these people don't belong to me, but 
they insist on living in my head and telling me all their kinks, 
so what am I gonna do?  To Chris Carter be endless glory.

Definitely slash, definitely NC-17, definitely no plot.  Archive 
at MSSS.  Feedback welcomed at viriditas@geocities.com.

*********

Wet Dreams V:  Questions and Answers
by Merri-Todd Webster

*********

Fox Mulder could not believe his ears.  He had fled the 
Bureau party on the eleventh floor in search of a remote, 
empty bathroom where he could jerk off in peace.  He didn't 
know which was worse--Dana looking like a wood nymph, 
her breasts about to ripen right out of that fabulous green 
gown--or Walter Skinner in a perfectly fitted tuxedo, looking 
like the alpha of all alpha males. The man didn't seem to 
notice that women who passed near him left a trail of 
moisture on the floor, and for that matter, so did the men. 

And in this dingy bathroom somewhere in the basement of a 
well-known Washington hotel, where he'd hoped to be alone 
with the urgency of his cock, Mulder found someone had 
beaten him to it.  The other man in the bathroom stall hadn't 
even heard him enter, he was so lost in the experience.  The 
unmistakable sounds of a man jerking off, the little grunts, 
the slide of palm over cock, the hoarse breathing, went right 
to Mulder's groin, and he leaned against the sink, moving 
softly, loosened his tie, and opened up his pants.  Biting hard 
on his lip to muffle his own sounds, he reached into his 
shorts and stroked himself.  

Oh, yesss....  He needed this.  He needed it bad.  If he was 
careful, he could time his own orgasm to match the other 
man's. And if he was lucky....

Mulder wrapped his fingers tightly around his cock and 
stroked diligently, smooth and fast. The other man--a big 
man, from the sound of him--had already gotten quite a 
headstart.  He was breathing harshly, panting, the rhythm 
broken now and again by a sound that was almost a growl. 
A deep, basso growl, low and feral, the noise of a hunting cat 
prowling the woods by night.  Oh, yeah....

A louder growl bounced off the tiled walls of the bathroom. 
Mulder threw back his head, feeling his balls tighten up, 
fearing the other man was too far ahead of him. The man in 
the stall made a noise like someone had gripped his throat; 
then his voice broke through again, in a roar like a lion over 
his kill, calling out a woman's name.

Mulder froze. The name was "Dana".  The voice was that of 
his boss, Walter Skinner.

Later he would think that he could have moved, could have 
gotten away, must not have wanted to, after all.  At the 
moment, however, he was frozen in his position against the 
sink, still holding his trembling cock, while he listened to 
Skinner take a deep breath, get tissue off the roll, probably 
wipe himself off, and then flush. And step out of the stall.

Skinner's eyes widened behind the trademark glasses.  For 
a second the two of them stared at each other, one a deer 
caught in the headlights, the other a hunter who didn't expect 
to see the stag walk right in front of his rifle.  Then Skinner 
moved, coming chest to chest with his agent in one step.

"What are you doing here, Mulder?"

The tone was harsh, accusatory, but Skinner's hand went to 
Mulder's arm and swept down his wrist, past the folds of 
fabric, to close over Mulder's, over Mulder's cock.  The 
younger man moaned softly as thick fingers wedged 
themselves between his own and put pressure on his 
aroused organ.

"Have you got anything to say for yourself, boy?"

Mulder shuddered.  There were a million things he wanted to 
say, 99% of them totally inappropriate things for an FBI 
agent to say to his AD.  Something that wasn't exactly a 
smile tightened the corners of the older man's mouth, and he 
leaned forward so that he was within inches of Mulder's face, 
dark eyes focused mercilessly on Mulder's.

"Why did you have to jerk off, boy?"

Mulder wet his lips, sucked in air.  He *had* to answer. 
"Because of Scully, sir.  And--and because of you."

Those strong fingers squeezed him expertly.  Cautiously, he 
began to slip his own hand away, to yield control of cock to 
Skinner.  The AD didn't tell him not to.

"Have you ever fucked Agent Scully, Mulder?"

"No, sir."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to fuck me, Agent Mulder?"

A slow stroke up the length of his cock.  "Yes--"

"Or do you want me to fuck you?"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Mulder shuddered again as Skinner's large hand stroked 
down, firmly, spreading out around the base of his cock to 
caress his balls.

"Drop your pants."  Those dark eyes were implacable. 
Mulder had no trouble bucking his boss's authority in the 
office, in the field, but here and now--he didn't want to.  He 
dropped the tuxedo trousers without hesitation and peeled 
down his boxers.  The porcelain sink was cold against his 
ass, but the hand that held him was hot and very strong.

"You've been good so far, Mulder.  You've answered all the 
questions I've asked you.  But you're going to have to 
answer a few more."

"Yes, sir.  Anything, sir."  <Just please touch me, keep 
touching me--> 

"Did you hear me jerking off?"  Skinner kneaded his agent's 
erection gently.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you know it was me?" 

"No, sir, not until--"  He couldn't speak as Skinner's thumb 
swirled over the drooling head of his organ.

"Until what?"

Mulder swallowed drily.  "Until I heard you say Agent Scully's 
name."

"Would you like to see me fuck Agent Scully?"

<Would I?  The truth-->  "Yes, sir."

"Do you think she's attracted to me?" 

"I don't know, sir."

"Is she attracted to you?"  The steady strokes were getting 
faster. Mulder whimpered.

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir."

Again the thumb passing over the sensitive, wet slit.  "Do 
you think she would like watching me fuck you?"

"Oh, God--"  He gasped.  "I don't know, sir!"

"But you'd like to get fucked while she's watching, wouldn't 
you, Mulder?"

He sagged into Skinner's grasp, the hand on his cock and 
the arm around his shoulders.  "Yes, sir."

"What do you want, boy?"  Hard, fast strokes, pumping.

"I want you to make me come."

"What else do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me.  I want to see you fuck Scully."

The supporting arm tightened.  Mulder bucked into the hand 
that was possessing him--not much longer, Skinner had to 
know--

"Do you want to fuck her?"

"Yes!"

"Say her name!"

It was all over.  Mulder clutched at Skinner and thrust until 
his back was arched like a bow, and as the hot wet surge 
spilled out of him, he screamed, "*Dana*!" as passionately 
as Skinner had. The two of them stood there, silent except 
for the sound of their breathing, leaning on each other. 
When Mulder started to straighten up, Skinner let him go. 
He turned away, and Mulder thought he might just walk out, 
in silence, but he only ducked into a stall again, came back 
with a wad of tissue which he offered Mulder.  As he cleaned 
himself off, Mulder noticed Skinner was getting hard again.

When Skinner finally spoke, his voice was softer than Mulder 
had ever heard it, except perhaps when Scully had been in 
the hospital, when the cancer went into remission.  "Mulder, 
we can do one of two things.  We can walk out of here, 
separately, and never mention this incident again.  Or we 
can leave together, and go on from here."  He stopped, 
waited.

"Go on how?" 

"Go on to get what we really want--by seducing Scully." 
Skinner grinned, a startling but delightful sight.  "If she'll have 
us."

Mulder felt an answering grin stretching the corners of his 
mouth and sending ripples of heat through his chest and 
pelvis.  "I'm willing to give it a try."

They left the men's room together.

*********