Return of the Son of the Revenge of the Chocoholics
by Ladonna King
lking@agora.rdrop.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oof," Agent Krycek said, but by then it was too late. Mulder had him
slammed against the door of the empty apartment, brown paper sack from the
local drugstore dropping from nerveless fingers. "What--?" And Mulder was
on his knees, ripping the belt of Alex's slacks open, pawing at the zipper
with gritted teeth. //Ohmygod...oh fff--// Down went his pants, his
boxers, pooling on the floor as the stifling air hit his sweat-damp skin
like a warm hand.

Alex banged his head against the door when Mulder's mouth enveloped his
cock, already hard from just seeing the man there, glittering hazel eyes
fixed on him in needy determination. Mulder's mouth was like fever, slick
and scorching and surreal, throat liquefying around Alex and devouring him
whole. He'd spent so many nights picturing this...he hoped like hell he was
awake.

But it was too damn hot to be a dream.

Mulder's breathy hum of satisfaction was loud in the silence, though it
barely vibrated the caged flesh of Alex's cock. He could hear Mulder's
panting breath as the other man fucked his face up and down on Alex's dick,
hear his own hitching groan, as if it were echoing in a cave. It was the
empty rooms...all the blinds pulled, cloaking them in underwater beige, the
FBI too cheap to furnish a stakeout post. Too cheap for air conditioning.
If the room temperature didn't melt him, Mulder was about to, but...

When Mulder grabbed his left hand, Alex only whimpered as Mulder came slowly
up off his cock. Something about his hand... Blinking, Alex watched Mulder
turn just slightly away, tongue snaking out to steal a long, sensuous lick
of the half-eaten ice cream sandwich he'd forgotten when Mulder attacked,
and then Mulder was on him again. Alex gritted his teeth on a sudden
scream, jerking as that mouth returned cold, lapping icy trails over flesh
that had stiffened impossibly.

Chills raced over Alex's skin, his nipples achingly hard, and Mulder
deep-throated him until the man's lips started to warm once more. Another
stolen bite to cool him off, and Mulder switched back and forth, a lick, a
suck. Ice, then heat, and Alex was bucking hard, thrusting down Mulder's
throat, his knees going limp as he sagged against the door, emptying himself
in that perfect mouth in slow, shuddering waves.

Sliding down to the floor, Alex tried to slow his heart with calm,
deliberate breaths, watching Mulder lick the last of the ice cream and
Alex's own come from his lips. Mulder had looked at least as
miserably hot as Alex when he'd sent Alex to the corner store, too snappish
from the heat to ask for more than Gatorade. If this was Mulder's idea of a
distraction...

"Wow," Alex breathed at last, reaching into the bag. "So...what would you
do for a Klondike bar?" he asked hopefully, holding it out to Mulder with a
smile.

Mulder's wicked grin told him all he needed to know.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

end