Game Plan: 1. Part One

 

Why did you do that, sir? Like I don’t know why! There I was, going along, minding my own business…oh alright, as much as I ever do, quite happily, controlling this slow-burning “situation” between us until you did that thing. Now you’re in my head and you won’t go away. Like some sort of erotic nightmare. First you answer the door half-naked, all those huge muscles rippling all over the place, then you…then you did that thing. I must stop thinking about it. Now. This isn’t clever.

*****

You drive me insane. Literally sometimes. Not that I’m not fond of you but honestly, the way you provoke! You’re like a little child demanding that I play ball with you and I know the best way to keep you on heat, little one, is to deny you what you most want. Of course, nobody’s ever called me a tease before – not to my face at least. Nobody would dare! Are you thinking of me? Are you thinking about me right now? I bet you are. I can see you in my mind’s eye. God! All that damn posturing. Those flicky eyes and the pouty lower lip. “But, sir…” If I have to listen to your sulky lies one more time I swear I’ll break down and hurt you the way you want me to. Well of course I’d noticed. We recognised each other fairly early on, didn’t we, Mulder? Of course after some years of this I’d got to notice fellow game-players but I’ve never met one as good as you before. You test me, Mulder, you really, really test me.

*****

Hell, you know me, never could keep away from the truth. People tell me I’m a masochist… if only they knew! You sure have an impressive body, but we all know that isn’t what’s got me hooked, although of course I’m only human. It’s more like the icing on the cake. Did you notice I was impressed? Or were you too side-tracked by the gift I brought you? Damn him. I hate him more than ever now. Did you like him more than you like me? Did you find him prettier, with his dark eyes and clean-cut jaw? If not, why did you waste your time on him? I was there as well you know. If you were going to toss anybody around and handcuff them it should have been me. Really, I feel as if I’ve earned it. I mean how angry do I have to make you before you snap? I try hard, but still you keep your goddamn self-control. Even when I took that swing at you last year – how did you stop yourself hitting back? I bow to you, master. I really do. But if you’d broken, if you’d finally given in – that way I’d have something to fantasise about – something more than being held in your angry arms, with you squeezing those fantastic muscles round my throat anyway. That was nice, that was good – that was almost enough. If I close my eyes I can still feel you, the way you were breathing, heavily, the sheer strength of you, the scent of you, clean but angry. You want me, Walter. I know that, you know that. I irritate the hell out of you, and you want to get hold of me, pin me down, handcuff me, and fuck the living daylights out of me. What’s stopping you? It’s not as if I’d resist – not more than is seemly anyway…

*****

I don’t like to let my playthings set the pace. It destroys the dynamic, but you’ve given me the run-around. You push away at my resolve, hoping to get a snap, or preferably a slap but a snap will do, and I oblige. When you came to my apartment in the middle of the night a few days ago – well, I wondered if you’d broken and finally come to beg for it. Krycek was a surprise but I used him well. I showed you what I could do, gave you a taste, and left you begging for more. Don’t think I can’t recognise desire when it flags up in a pair of winsome hazel eyes, sweetheart. I’m going to keep you on the edge, Mulder. My recent performance should have reinforced my credentials. You know what I can do and how and you want me even more. Pant, boy, pant. I’ll force you to beg for what you want before we’re through. I’m in charge here.

*****

What were you thinking? When you tied Krycek up? I was watching and I saw a man who sure as hell knows his way around a set of handcuffs. You were quick, efficient and you know all the topping tricks going. How can I tell? Don’t be stupid, you know what I am. I’ve been on the receiving end a few times and I can say right now that you’re the best. You do it without thinking. You do it in everyday life, without even trying, you don’t just confine yourself to sex games. You’re so…practised. Who did you practise on, sir? Not a woman, not your wife. I can tell that as well. Sometimes I even put my psychological profiling skills to good use…No, you save that side of yourself for men, don’t you? It’s probably called dominant male theory or something. I should look it up. You know, the alpha male gets to fuck everything beneath him, male or female, and we’re all grateful for it. I know I would be.

*****

Do you know what I want to do to you? I want to get hold of that over-abundant hair, push you onto your knees, tie you up good and tight, and then strip your shirt off, nice and slow. All the time you’ll be begging for mercy, knowing what I’m going to do. I’d use a whip – in case you’re wondering – and I’ll just bet you are my sweet panting fox cub. I’d take the time to punish you slowly, as you deserve, and as you undoubtedly crave. If I don’t hear you scream soon…You would scream for me, foxling. I’d demand that much. High screams from deep inside your soul. And there’s not any part of your body I wouldn’t be cruel to, not any. You’d find me as exacting as you want me to be. But it’s the nuances that create the tension isn’t it, cub? The physical release would simply be the culmination of this game we’ve been playing, but the fun is in what we’re doing right now, what we have been doing for some time. You sulk, you pout, you disobey me. You run off, deceive, lie, goad, and all the time with such endearing innocence and consuming passion. And I respond in turn, keeping to our script, a choreographed dance of power. I order, rant, pace and threaten, and between us we’re stoking up this fire. I like the nuances, they keep us finely balanced on the edge of our erotic abyss. One false move and one of us falls in. Which of us will it be?

*****

Do you know when I first recognised you for what you were? It was pretty early on. I’d seen you around a few times, but hardly to talk to, and then suddenly I was up to my neck in shit and you were pushing all these buttons. So, the first time I knew that we were onto a game…it was a couple of years ago now. I was sitting in your office, and you’d just asked Scully to leave. You had no idea who you were dealing with, sir! Trying that old trick on me. The one where you’re nasty as hell while pretending to be nice. All that flattery about how famous I was, even while still at the academy. Then: “Take a holiday, Mulder. You’re overworked.” It was an order of course, but I took it as a kind suggestion. That pissed you off! Maybe then you had an inkling that I wouldn’t play ball. I see you as this big cat, Walter, a sleek, dark one, a panther maybe. You just prowl around knocking people down with your big paws, and holding them there until they do as you say. Not this time, big boy! You’ve met your match. I won’t roll over and die for you. Anyway, back to that day in your office. I still didn’t realise you were a grand master but I was getting an inkling you were a player. “You are forbidden to go near Eugene Tooms,” you told me. Without even looking at me. No frowns or histrionics, just stern authority. The sort that comes from knowing that there is no question but that you WILL be obeyed. Not that I did- I’m not that easily played, Walter. And what is it with you and the way you stand, hand on hips? Disapproval so seductively combined with invitation. Still I didn’t realise. No. The minute I realised was when you gave me a shot of your timing. I was nearly at the door, on the way out, and you stopped me.

“Agent Mulder…” Your voice was like silk rope around my wrists, dangerous, cutting and seductive. “This was close…” A warning. A threat. A promise, and I knew. I could feel the flickering inside.

*****

How long can you hold out, Mulder? I think I threw you with Krycek the other night. Your spur of the moment attempt to spike my game didn’t work. My strategy with him was a master-stroke and an improvised one at that. Can you come up with anything better? I’m looking forward to your riposte, little one. Well did you think you were playing some two-bit leather freak in some seedy downtown S&M club? I’m way beyond that. I’m an expert, and I’ve been playing for years.

*****

Shall I send this feverish writing to you? I could. I could just call up your email, press the send key. What would you do? Storm down here and rant at me, pin me up against the wall in that butch way you have, hold me down….oh I’m fantasising again, Walter. Cold shower time. I won’t send it. Nope, I’m not that desperate that I’d risk everything to taste the back of your hand yet. Is that what you want? Damn you! I’ve never met a player like you before. Usually I get what I want early on, and then I leave. I always force the pace, manage the tops to make them do exactly what I want them to. But you – you know we’re playing the same game. I see it in your eyes. Work just gives a different dimension to our playground but the rules are still there. I’ve played this game before, sir and I’d always considered myself a master at it. Master… it’s an old debate isn’t it? Who is in charge? The submissive who manipulates, or the dominant who obliges? I know which side of the fence I’m on. I always got what I needed until now. Damn you. I will make you hurt me. I will.

*****

Riled are we? I see you’re working late. I dropped by ten minutes ago to drop off some work and you’re beavering away at your word processor, flushing a delicate shade of pink, your tongue drooling over that moist bottom lip of yours like an sexual beacon. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing.

“Yes, sir. No, sir.” You said, and you sighed, twitching your eyes heavenward. Surely you’re not so far gone as to actually make me angry on purpose to get what you want? There’s not much finessing in that. What happened to the passion of your convictions? Standing up to me over something you genuinely believe in is much more enticing – raw emotional honesty usually is. Or were you just giving yourself something to jerk off on? Poor cub. But you’ll have to ask nicely. Only one of us can win and I’m not letting you call the shots.

*****

You know! Shit! You know I’m burning up after what you did with Krycek. I’ve never felt so exposed. You didn’t even frown, you just smiled, pleasantly, your face so open and kind. When did you ever smile you goddamned headfuck! Where was the grim visage, the closed-mouth scolding? I want more, sir. Much more.

*****

A poor excuse. You put your head around my door on a pretext? A pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing?

“Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?” Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you…. pretext, Mulder? What sort of a sloppy game are you playing?

“Sir, can you tell me why this case was closed?” Some old case with my initials on it that you’ve dusted down and got out to argue with me about. Provoking an argument about something so pointless? Something you don’t even care about, Foxling? Oh dear, someone is panting bad now. Tell me – was it the way I punched Krycek or the way I cuffed him? Ah, the cuffs I think. Look at you, standing here, hopping and twitching as usual. I have a pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Watch me now, this will amuse you….

*****

I’m losing. I’m losing! You’ve stopped playing, sir, or you’ve moved the game to some level I can’t fathom. You’re being nice! Stop that. Stop it now! It’s not fair and it’s not in the rules. Sweet smiles, kind glances, tolerance???? What are you doing to me? I need some stern looks, some discipline, sir. I can’t go on without a glare at least. Please….I’m begging. Almost. Oh alright, I know it was stupid, going into your office but I had to see you and then you pretended to get out that file, pulled those handcuffs out onto the desk, just lay them there between us! Oh I hate you.

“So, Mulder. Sit down. Refresh my memory about this case.” And, idly, you pick up those damn cuffs and play with them! You think I’m not made of flesh and blood? I nearly broke, very nearly. I couldn’t take my eyes off those cuffs, and we both know what we wanted you to do with them. I’ll make you angry with me, too angry to stop yourself. I will, sir. I’ll force you to handcuff me, to hurt me. Just you wait and see.

*****

“One, two, buckle my shoe, three four, knock at the door.” Ah – here it comes. Right on cue, cub, right on cue. So what’s it about this time? Another ancient file? Some orders you want me to hand out so that you can flout them. Uh-uh. Not playing, Agent Mulder. You beg to get what you want or you go without. I am going to be so kind to you that you’ll be sick to the gills.

*****

“It’s about Agent Scully, sir.” That got your attention. You weren’t expecting that. Did you really think I wouldn’t risk everything? Play dirty? I’m desperate here, sir! “I haven’t been able to tell her what went on at Tunguska, sir.” You’re intrigued. You’ve stopped tapping your fingers on the desk and now you’re glaring. Oops yes, you’ve just realised you’re doing it but it’s too late! I saw!

*****

“Tunguska?” What sort of nonsense are you intending to spout, Mulder? What’s your game? Stay calm, Walter. Smile at him. He hates that.

*****

“I’m writing a report, sir. Not that it’s much use. I realise all the others have been binned but this one, well this is my personal report, sir. An honest account of what happened to me.” And it’s all the truth, master. What good bedside reading it’ll make for a man of your obvious… persuasions. “I haven’t told Scully because some of what happened to me was…pretty nasty, sir.” There! Pupils dilating! And glory be – another frown. Gotcha!

****

“You don’t have to recount anything you’re uncomfortable with, Agent Mulder. I’ll read it in your report.” Another test, boy? Don’t tempt me. If you’re about to make up some sort of nonsense I swear I might lose control…

*****

“I was chased by men on horseback, sir. They had whips.” Ah, the “w” word. That had an effect. Look how jerky your hands are as you hold the paper between those blunt, potentially savage fingers. Am I winning now, Walter?

*****

“Horseback?” Honestly. Does he think the image of him being chased by men on horseback will inflame me with passion? And has he really put this down in a report that he’ll sign his name to and file? He must be more desperate than I thought. Actually men on horseback with whips is a turn-on. Cunning little fox.

*****

“Yes, sir. I think I upset them.”

“You do have that effect on people, Mulder.” You couldn’t resist that one, could you? Good. How near am I to upsetting you?

“One of them lassooed me round the legs with his whip. I fell down into the mud.” How do we feel about boys covered in mud about to be whipped by savage horsemen, Walter? Oh I see we have your attention. Bet we’re not feeling so cocky about that handcuff game now are we? “I must have really ticked them off. They kept whipping me, as I lay in the mud.” Move your arms around a bit, show him the scars on your wrists where you put your hands up to deflect the blows. Just a hint. Careful, Mulder, careful. A lot rides on this one. Oh yes. He’s taken the bait.

*****

“I trust you are now fully recovered, Mulder?” Get a grip, Walter. Don’t look at those whip marks. Don’t look.

 

“Almost, sir. Still got a few bruises but I’ll survive.” A wry shrug. You won’t damn well survive if I get my hands on you tonight. What are you trying to do? Make me take you here, in my own office? Oh god. Yes you are. Fuck. You just raised the goddamn stakes.

*****

“They locked me up in a cell. Then I was tied down to a table – they stripped my shirt off and covered me in some sort of chicken wire.” Sounds like a wet dream I know, but it’s all true, Walter darling. Am I painting a good mental image? I’m trying hard. You’re shifting behind your desk, looking uncomfortable. Is this an erection I see before me? “Then they sprayed us with some sort of black liquid.” Nice image. Sleek, oily, black fluid, me tied down with wire. Mmm…he’s losing it.

*****

“Any idea what this liquid was?” Who gives a fuck? Just the thought of him tied down and helpless and…wet? How did he guess that this was one of my fantasies? Is he winning this damn game? Damn him for having a winning hand. Did this actually happen to him or is he testing me again? He’s changed his gameplay. Instead of trying to make me angry he’s trying to turn me on instead. Devious, delicious fox cub!

*****

“No, sir. Something to do with the black cancer I think.” Let’s not get bogged down in technical jargon. Not when I’m so close.

*****

“Is that all then, Mulder?” Please let him go, before he makes me do something I’ll regret.

 

*****

“Isn’t it enough, sir?” Could be read two ways. He’s looking at me.

“What exactly do you want from me, Agent Mulder?” Getting up, moving this way. Oh yes! I’m going to win. He’s going to snap. He’s going to get hold of me right here and now….I’ve done it!

*****

“Want, sir?” Damned innocent hazel eyes. How many levels can we go up? I think I might have met my match. I’ll punish him for this so bad he won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Nobody’s ever gotten under my skin like this before – and yet! Yet if I can get a grip, I can pull him over the edge with me.

“Shit, Mulder – what a terrible experience for you. You should take a few days holiday, son.” Kind hand on shoulder, tender smile, forced from the bottom of my soul. But watch his face drop! Oh, the sheer sadistic pleasure of it! Thought you had me did you, boy? Well think again! I’m back! I’m rolling!

*****

“Don’t do this to me, sir…” What did I just say? I’ve lost it. He’s won.

“Do what, Mulder?” Silky, dangerous, close. I won’t beg for it, I won’t but I can’t breathe, gasping for air…

“This, sir. All this touchy feely stuff, sir.” I could cry. Really I could. Oh god, I hope he isn’t going to make me. I can smell him, he’s so close. That crisp white shirt, those dark eyes flashing behind those glasses.

“Just showing concern, son.”

“Son?”

“What would you prefer me to call you?”

“Boy! Boy – like you called him! It wasn’t fair that you did that to him and not me! He didn’t deserve it as much as I do, sir. Do it to me, sir! You win – I’ll do what you want, I’ll do whatever you want. Please, look at me. I’m begging here, sir, master, grand master, best fucking top in the whole damn universe! I’m begging, pleading…” Flinging myself down, at his knees, where I belong. Desperate.

*****

Music to my ears! Stand still and savor the sound for a moment. Is a little reward in order, boy? So that was the trigger was it? Boy. Not the handcuffs, or the punch, or the rough handling but one little syllable. I want to laugh, to haul him up and kiss his sweet pouty mouth but we’ll save that for afterwards I think. Right now he’s earned his mean frown, my hand closing in his hair, pulling his head back. It’s a draw really but I won’t tell him that. I haven’t picked the place or time, he has. I never wanted it to be my office but it does have to be now. Neither of us can hold on any longer. I wouldn’t have let him walk out of here without giving him what we both want so it is most definitely a draw. Manipulative brat! Never have I met anyone this good. My belt is going to be very busy tonight…

 

GAME OVER.