Title:Mo bhreagha Author/pseudonym: Drovar Email address: Drovar@alltel.net Rating:NC-17 Slash Pairings: Spender/OC Date: 6/15/99 Summary: It is said that French is the language of love . . . perhaps. Category: AU, PWP, Slash Disclaimers: Well, if CC won't take care of his toys . . . Notes: Pwp - what else can I say. If pretty boys having fun together offends you, please pass this one by. I know it's him before he closes the door to my office, before I turn in my chair to take in his lanky body tucked beneath his drab suit. It's the scent you understand, the mingled odor of hours of office duty and the subtle blend of cologne and cigarette smoke. It's an unmistakably masculine smell. He's behind me in one solid heartbeat. His smell is stronger now, taking on a deeper more mellow tone. The smell of his body, his warmth, his sweat; it's unmistakable. I swear I can feel the heat penetrating my back as his body presses against the chair, his stomach against my shoulders. His large hands run through my hair, lingering among the thick strands, playing a little. He says my hair fascinates him because it's red, and thick, unlike his own head of dark curls. Professor Albert the Red he called me when we first met. He was working a case, a psycho-strangler, a nut-job with a penchant for leaving cryptic Celtic verse as clues. Special Agent Jeffrey Spender was how he introduced himself hand extended. He looked inordinately prim; the proper junior G-man, one of the FBI's fast rising stars. It didn't take me long to uncover the raging fires banked behind those dark smoldering eyes. Professor Albert McAddle was my reply. We shook hands. I've never believed in Karma or fate or love at first sight, but something passed between us in that moment. It was a feeling of sharp sudden heat or power, like a spark jumping between terminals. I can't imagine he shared my illusion but his eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly as our hands touched. Pure fantasy, a mythic remnant of a long gone romantic age, but I clung to it madly. What can I say? I was smitten at first sight. We retreated to my office to talk, we discussed the case at length. His theories were cogent, well thought out. He had a quick mind and a sharp wit it turned out later. He lingered, We talked about his life over coffee, my life over dinner, and what it all meant over breakfast. Back the in here and now I feel his hands slide out of my hair. His arms looped casually around my neck as he hunkers down. "I want you," he whispers. His breath was warm mellow heat against my skin. It carries the scent of his work, coffee and smoke and something less definable, more the essence of him I think, sweat and something muskier. "I'm working, Jeff" I say as I smile. I untangle his cradling arms and push my way past him. He's on me in a second, an eager pup, I should have known better than to turn my back on him. I can feel him, he's being dirty, rubbing his hard cock against my ass. It's brutally stiff, two layers of cloth, mine and his, present no barrier at all. His hands wrap around my waist and slip up my body, rumpling my suit jacket as the slide beneath it. He finds my chest and unerringly snares my nipples. He pinches and pulls, he knows what that does to me. "I want you," he whispers again, insistent; full of warmth and need. His hands massage the tender skin for a moment, teasing and tugging, gently this time. Then the hands separate, one drops down sliding beneath my tie and into my shirt. He pops the buttons off one by one. I listen to them clink on the hard office floor, how will I ever find them? Those long beautiful fingers are every where at once. His right hand slides down the naked skin of my stomach stopping to twirl the soft hairs around my navel. All this time he's whispering sweet things, obscenities, what he wants to do to me, where and how. His hand dances along my belt line, slipping lightly under the waistband of my suit pants. "I want you," he repeats. "I want to see you spread out on Skinner's desk," he says huskily into my ear "hard and waiting for me. I want you on your knees under my desk," he adds as he bites my ear. I wince and moan, his wandering hand slips lower as the grinding pressure against my ass increases. "I want you there when Mulder's popping off on some insane theory spun out of nothing but his own demented imagination." His hand slides beneath the belt now. He hesitates and snorts a little when he finds only naked skin . . I've gone commando today, just for this occasion, he's been expected. "I want you there," he continues, "when Scully is giving me that arched-eyebrow glare. I want your hands and lips where only I can see and feel them." He has my belt off in an instant. It zips and zings as he pulls it from its loops. He sets it aside, I note. "I want you there," he says as my trousers fall to the floor, "when Diana is giving me her smug bitch once over." Finished speaking for a moment his lips track along my neck, warm wet skin trails after. His hand leaves my nipples while the other creeps closer to my throbbing shaft. I can hear his own clothes rustling as he pulls back, his lips barely leaving my skin. He's tracing long slow patterns in the stiff hairs above my swaying cock. I hear a sound of his belt and suit pants hitting the floor. Then his naked hips are against me. His hard heavy length is prodding at my ass. It feels like solid heat, like fire and flame given hard pulsing form. Wherever the slick head moves I feel the moist trail burning my skin. "And most of all," he says as his hand slips into the crack of my ass. "I want you, because I want you." I shudder and nearly fall to the floor, my knees almost gone when he finally grabs my cock in those big hands and strokes me hard. "God," I moan as I arch my back in reaction. His lips quest forward. It's a reach but they find mine waiting and eager. He tastes like he should, coffee and second-hand smoke, a hint of me. it is sweet and brazen, ambrosia. His fingers light on the twitching entrance of my body. He's heat and flame again as he pushes one inside. I'm arching against him now, both my head and my ass, bending taut like a bow, bent to the point of breaking. I think my spine is on fire. Another finger . . lubed somehow joins it's companion. It's more than I can stand, more fire, more heat, more energy than my body can contain. I'm on fire, his flame is in me.I am burnt and cinder. Somewhere in the deepest heart of fire, in the brightest moment of heat I hear his voice. Soft as a lick of flame, rough as a match strike. "I want you, just like this." And my body is mine again, his heat in me and around me, thrusting and burning at the sweet core of my body. His sweat covers my back, or perhaps it's the burnt ashen remains of my soul, either does little to cool my need. I move against him now adding my own heat and intensity, my need to his. We stoke the flames of passion higher. He pulls out of me. I feel the emptiness, an ache, a need unfulfilled. His big hands turn me around. He kisses me silently, a deep warm kiss, a caress of lips on my heart. His hands wrap around my head and chest as the kiss deepens. He tips me down, down, I feel vertigo, I feel like I'm falling, but only to the desk. He breaks the kiss and draws back, slides his hands over my nipples and down my body. He caresses my own raging cock and then slips his hands beneath my knees. "I want to see your face, " he says before sliding down and taking my cock in his mouth. Greek fire, that's what his mouth is, flames that destroy and burn without end, he threatens to consume me. He pushes my knees back further and steps up. He is still hard, still rampant, a single red-hot spike of fire jutting from his body. He sets and plunges forward without hesitation. He impales me in one fast unerring strike. His body stops, flush with mine. I think I screamed, I think his name, I don't remember, even now. I'm on fire again, as he strokes. The heat is incendiary, spreading up my body like a wildfire. I think when it reaches my heart I may truly die. He says something to me then, something that doesn't quite penetrate the fog of heat and smoke. He repeats it, louder this time and his words finally register in my heat addled mind. "Mo chridhe," he whispers and thrusts. "My heart," I answer as I rock against him. He's been practicing. If I could feel anything other than the heat of his skin, and the thrust of his body into mine, If I could know anything other than the intense soul-searing heat of our union I would be pleased. "Mo bhreagha," he sighs as he wraps his arms around my upswung legs, pulling me tighter against him. "My beautiful," I whisper in answer. "Mo ghraidh, mo dhochas," he begins to chant in rhythm with our bodies. "My love, my hope," I answer in syncopated gasps. His hands are on me now, stroking and pushing me higher and faster, even as his rhythm dissolves into wild uncontrolled whole body thrusts. He is first, his warmth exploding inside me. I can feel it inside me, searing the essence of all that he is into me, we are joined. I follow soon after, my body no more than a burnt twisted wreck. But it is strong and as I arch my back again, I know I'll recover. We come back to our civil minds sometime later. His head is on my chest our breathing slow and calm. "Tha thusa breagha am feasgar," I say as I stroke his soft hair. "You look beautiful tonight," he whispers without looking. He pauses for a moment, I can feel his mind working as he forces himself to remember. "leasta, a daonnan," he says finally. "With you always." I reply [end] Notes: These are actual Gaelic phrases culled from various net sources. If these are butchered, it's entirely my fault. Albert McAddle is a character that I was originally going to use in some due South fiction. He's matured a great deal and changed a lot since then. I think he'll find a nice home in my Spender- centric universe. Join the Spenderfic mailing list http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/Spenderfic --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Where do some of the Internet's largest email lists reside? http://www.onelist.com At ONElist - the most scalable and reliable service on the Internet. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ All Spenderfic is good Spenderfic. Visit The Ferret Cage for more Spenderfic. http://www.geocities.com/area51/hollow/3190/ferret2.htm