It was no use, he couldn’t sleep. Mulder tossed, and turned, and tossed again, but the long rays of light from the moon shone through the bedroom window, slipping easily through the thin drapes, and illuminating the bed.


It was too hot to sleep. It was too light to sleep. Mulder eased himself out gently from under one of Walter’s huge paws, and padded naked across to the doorway. Something made him stop, and glance back. The lightweight sheet they slept under on hot nights such as this covered his lover, clinging softly to the firm lines and contours of his body. The moon glanced through a crack in the drapes, bathing Walter’s naked scalp in loving pale hues and mysterious dark shadows. Mulder paused, transfixed. He hesitated for a moment, and then returned to stand beside the bed.


Walter’s face was flushed, and a thin film of sweat glistened on his brow.


“You know…it really is too hot to have any sort of covering at all tonight,” Mulder murmured with a self-satisfied smirk. Gently, carefully, he took the sheet between his thumb and forefinger, and peeled it down, inch by inch, away from his lover’s body, taking care not to wake him. He pooled it into a heap at the end of the bed, and then sat down on the armchair by the window in silent contemplation.


Now the moonlight had access to Walter’s golden flesh. It dappled his thighs, dipped dark and enticingly into the crevice between his taut buttocks, and slid sultry fingers down his thighs. Glimmers of light and shadow played across the side of Walter’s face, and over his jaw, caressing the outline of his cheekbones, disappearing into the hollows of his eyes, and defining his firm lips, and the shape of his nose.


Mulder followed an imaginary line down that nose, across those lips, along the jaw, and onto the dazzling breadth of his lover’s naked chest. He tangled briefly in those curls of body hair, wandered down onto the flat planes of Walter’s stomach, lingered lovingly on his lover’s heavy balls, and wide, solid cock, then moved his contemplation down to the long lines, and firm, lean hardness of Walter’s legs and ass. He imagined dipping his fingers in the moonlight, and painting swirls of glowing lunar paint across his lover’s thighs, and over the taut honeyed hues of his skin, and that was when the idea occurred to him.


Humming to himself, he went downstairs to the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and rummaged around for a long time until he found what he was looking for, right at the very back. A few minutes later, fully prepared, he returned to the bedroom, opened the drapes a fraction to give himself more light, and began to work.


Skinner shifted in the bed. He could feel something warm caressing his cock in tiny brush strokes. Mulder, he thought lazily to himself, with a little smile. Mulder, lapping at his body with his pink tongue, like a cat. Skinner liked that image, and he made a little whimpering sound and lay back, offering himself up like a sacrifice, his cock starting to bob as he became erect under his lover’s tender ministrations.


“That’s good, Walter. Thank you. Now I can do underneath,” Mulder whispered. Walter smiled to himself, still half asleep. Next he felt that warm, insistent lapping on his balls, and he moaned, shifting in the bed and raising his hips in time to the rhythm. “Lovely, thank you, Walter,” Mulder said, in a soft, loving undertone.


Skinner dozed off again, then gently surfaced once more as that warm sensation enveloped one of his nipples, lightly, gently, lapping against the sensitive nub of flesh in breathtaking little strokes.


“Mmmm, feels good…” he murmured. Mulder smiled. Soon the other nipple was receiving the same warm, loving attention, and Skinner moaned, one hand reaching out to idly caress his lover’s hair as he worked. Then there was movement on his shoulder – more warm, gentle stroking, and Skinner sighed. “I love you, Mulder…” he muttered.


“I love you too, Walter.” Mulder crooned sitting astride his lover, looking down on him. Skinner smiled, moving his head slightly to avoid the brightness of the moon as it bathed their bedroom in…Skinner’s eyes snapped open, filled with a sense of dread.


“Oh shit.” He glanced sideways, and gazed out of the window. “Shit. It’s a full moon isn’t it? Oh god. What have you done to me this time?”


“Done?” Mulder still sat astride his lover, an expression of serene innocence on his face as he looked down on him.


“Done!” Skinner wasn’t fooled. “Mulder, every time there’s a full moon you come over all…kinky. Last month it was that urge you had to tie ribbons around…parts of my body, the month before that I woke up to find that you’d painted my finger and toenails bright red…”


“That suited you.” Mulder interjected. Skinner glared at him.


“So – what is it that you’ve done to me this month? Painted me all over with…” He glanced down.


“Chocolate.” Mulder smiled, holding up the brush. “White chocolate on your nipples, with just a dab of dark chocolate at the ends. Milk chocolate on your cock, because…well it just looked nice, and dark chocolate on your balls because it made a good contrast.”


Skinner took a deep breath, and looked down at his decorated body, then up into his lover’s innocent, smiling face.


“Okay,” he said firmly. “Okay. Chocolate. Fine. And these, uh…Aztec swirls on my shoulder? Is there any particular significance to these?”


“No, I just liked the pretty patterns.” Mulder grinned. “Looks nice. Sort of like war paint.”


“It’s drying.” Skinner murmured, feeling suddenly rather sticky and…flaky.


“It’s proper body chocolate.” Mulder told him proudly, holding up the packaging. “Remember, I bought it for your last birthday?”


“You mean I was stupid enough not to hide it away more carefully?” Skinner sighed, looking deeply into his lover’s eyes, and wondering if it was possible to love anybody more than he loved this man. “Mulder – one question.”


“Yes?” Mulder looked down eagerly, from his vantage point on Skinner’s chest.


“How do we get it off?”


“Ah, well…” Mulder smiled, and the moonlight ruffled through his hair, coating each strand with glowing white tips, illuminating the hazel depths of his eyes, and his wide, full, bottom lip, which he was licking suggestively. “I can think of only one way, Walter…” He dipped his head, and started to nibble.


There were, Skinner thought to himself, some advantages to his lover’s luna-cy, after all.






Walter and chocolate – these are a few of my favorite things…tra la.





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