From: KassXF <kassxf@aol.com>
Date: 12 May 1999 17:25:58 GMT
Subject: Chaos Theory, M/Sk

Standard Disclaimer
Rating:  Maybe an R
Summary:  A snippet written to please a friend, Mulder and Skinner on a lazy
Sunday morning

Chaos Theory
by KassXF@aol.com

Mulder on Sunday morning was chaos personified.  Worse, he was chaos
personified in Walter Skinner's orderly life.   Regarding the muffin crumbs and
the disarray of the newspaper in his bed, Skinner frowned.  The source of the
chaos was oblivious, absently licking crumbs and butter off his fingers,
sprawled back against the pillows, wearing nothing more than pajama bottoms.  

Yellow pajama bottoms.

He studied Mulder, felt the surge of irritation ebb; dammit, the man really was
oblivious, licking his fingers, sucking on the index finger that had clearly
gotten more butter than the rest.  Eyes behind the lenses focused on the small
print of the paper.  "Hey, Walt, tell me why the fact that the Chinese have all
our nuclear technology is on page 7, while Senator Murchison's fling with a
dancer is on the front page."  

Absently.

And the finger went back into the lush mouth.

Oh, the hell with crumbs, Skinner sprawled out, captured Mulder and threw the
newspaper on the floor.  "Who cares."  

A startled look melted to a grin.  "Good morning."

"Good morning yourself."  Skinner growled it, thought better of the growl and
nipped Mulder's throat, the vampire's choice of location, sucked gently.  "You
need to shave."
Mulder relaxed against him.  "I do?"

"You do."

Mulder smoldered at him from behind the glasses.  Reaching up, Skinner removed
them carefully, put them in a safer place.  "Definitely you do."  Nipped again
and slid his free hand down to the small of Mulder's back.  Silky skin there,
the ripe curve of ass swelling out beneath.  "That's better."

Mulder fairly purred.  "You're so sudden in your enthusiasms."

"I'm practicing spontaneity," Skinner muttered.  "To avoid becoming hidebound
and stuck in a rut."

It got him a kiss, long and lush and entirely luxurious; screw the crumbs, he
thought distantly, he'd lick them off Mulder if he had to.

"I could shave in the shower," Mulder finally breathed, coming up for air. 

Skinner considered that judiciously.  "You could," he agreed gravely.  "And so
could I."

Mulder moved along his jawline, a series of little nips that felt pretty damned
good in themselves.  He wasn't sure where this uxorious desire to wrap himself
around Mulder had developed, but he was damned if he was going to miss a chance
to do so.

It felt too damned satisfying, skin to skin contact--didn't even matter if it
was specifically sex.  Although his body was showing definite signs of interest
there, too.

More nibbling, a warm hand inside his sweatpants, cupping his stirring flesh. 
"This is nice," Mulder muttered, moving down his throat. "We could shower
later."

Skinner let himself loll, a ancient lion replete from the hunt.  "We could," he
agreed, stroking warm skin.  Did he want to turn the tables?  No, an aggressive
Mulder was a delight, a wonder, as focused on pleasure as he was on his quest. 
"If you'd rather wait," he added, feeling that something else was called
for--it was hard to focus on decisions while that mouth was worrying at a
nipple.

"Or we could shower now."  

Warm tongue on his skin, he slid his hands further down, cupped that lovely,
lovely ass.  "Make up your mind," he grumbled and squeezed.

Mulder paused.  "Shower," he said, his tone pensive.  "Definitely shower."

Skinner nodded.  "Okay.  Get off me."

"Only because I have to," Mulder muttered and nipped one last time before
rolling away and to his feet.  Skinner admired the view, those pajama bottoms
definitely had to go, there was no hiding what was beneath them.

Impudent look and Mulder slid thumbs under the waistband, shed the pajamas with
a suggestive grin before starting for the bathroom.

Skinner allowed himself another moment of esthetic appreciation before
following.  
Thought about hot water, soap and a slippery, passionate Mulder and grinned
senselessly at the ceiling.

"Hurry up," Mulder called from the bathroom.

"On my way," he agreed and got up.  

Brownian motion...that was Mulder.  Order was nice, but there was much to be
admired in chaos theory, too.

And he intended to admire it to the fullest extent humanly possible

Finis