CATEGORY: VRA

RATING: NC-17, and I mean it. SLASH WARNING! This story contains VERY GRAPHIC consensual sex between two men. Forewarned is forearmed. If you don't like really graphic stuff, STOP HERE!

SUMMARY: This is a sequel of sorts to my previous story "Electric Chair". It takes one aspect of that story, Skinner's erotic dream regarding Mulder, into reality. Also, this is a romance, not a B&D story, so if bondage is your thing, you won't find it here. However, be warned that once again, this story is for mature audiences only. Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? Hey, I can always use a good "weenie" roast.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING. The current season? Who knows - maybe next year. HA! But - there's been a lot of water under the bridge for everyone, folks. They all have issues, don't they?

KEYWORDS: vignette romance angst slash Skinner Mulder NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Walter Skinner, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.

Louisiana Blues
by frogdoggie

The hotel suite was hot. <What the fuck is wrong with the air conditioning?> Walter Skinner thought. Well, it was working but he wasn't feeling it. Why wasn't he feeling it? Because his whole body was hot.

<God damn it,> he thought, <What the hell was I thinking,> He loosened his tie, walked to the bank of windows in the 10th floor suite and looked out into the city's night. <Who the hell cares what I was thinking. None of that's important now - face it Walter.>

xXx

Earlier....

The conference had been interesting, actually. Walter Skinner, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully had flown down to New Orleans to attend it. Mulder and Scully were delivering papers. Mulder had presented his that afternoon. The Maria Tepesh a.k.a. Linda Osbourne case. The ersatz vampire serial killer. Not a case Skinner remembered with much fondness. At least not most of it.

He'd been instrumental in solving the case after some sort of weird erotic, prophetic dream had given him the critical clue to apprehending the woman. A dream in which he experienced torrid sex with both Mulder and Scully much to his embarrassment. At least that's what he told himself at the time. Right, he thought. I couldn't have possibly enjoyed any of that could I? Especially the part with...But the truth of the matter was he had enjoyed part of it more than he'd wanted to admit at the time. Ha, that much was obvious now.

Yeah, Mulder's paper had been interesting despite the disturbing subject matter. Interesting maybe because Skinner had lived through it, and interesting because...well the presenter had been Mulder, and Mulder was always - interesting and unpredictable. The rest of the day had dragged on. None of the papers had been as inspired as Mulder's presentation. Scully's paper was on the schedule for the next day. Her paper was something technical and forensic, but Skinner thought it would be pretty good as well.

The conference schedule ended at 5 PM. Skinner was starving by that time. Mulder and Scully seemed hungry as well. They stood outside the ballroom with the other FBI Agents and Bureau brass. It had been awkward. It was obvious neither Mulder nor Scully wanted to go to dinner with Skinner. It was obvious neither wanted to say "No" either. Skinner let them off the hook. He told them he was beat from listening to dry presentations all day. Dry except for Mulder's he'd hastened to add. He complimented Mulder on his paper. "High point for me," he said. Mulder smiled, seemed flattered. Scully had seemed a bit surprised. She raised that eyebrow anyway.

Skinner told them he was going back to his suite to relax. He'd eat later. Playing the old man he thought. The acerbic superior, the gruff boss. Both Mulder and Scully left together, relief on their faces.

He went up to his suite for a while. He ordered room service around 5:10 PM. Eaten. The meal had been passable. He watched the tube. Caught the news. The clock hands crawled. 10 PM rolled around. He'd been too restless. This was New Orleans for Christ sake. New Orleans in May. The weather was still halfway decent. He needed to get out. He needed to walk. He needed...

He hadn't been sure what he'd needed. But he had an idea. He suspected maybe he'd find what he needed down in the French Quarter. He hadn't wanted to admit it but he was lonely. It seemed like eons since his divorce from Sharon. It had been years. He hadn't dated much. When he had he was always afraid to ask for sex. After that near career ending episode with the unfortunate murdered call girl the whole idea of sex with strangers had been an iffy proposition for him. Oh, there were a few relationships. One liaison had lasted almost 6 months. A tall, blond, executive VP for a large corporation.

A memorable woman. She'd been intellectually as well as physically stimulating. A gifted thinker coupled with very few inhibitions in bed. He remembered most vividly their conversation as well as their sex. She'd had a mind like quick silver. But God, she'd been a great lay. He could still see her, riding him. What a view that had been. He saw her tits up high with his hands all over them. He felt her taking everything he could give, hard and deep inside. He could hear her screaming for more. He still heard her shrieking his name as she came. Jesus, he missed her touch.

But in the long run his work and her work had gotten in the way. At least that's what he'd told himself. The affair ended amicably. Skinner had gone back into servitude for the bureaucracy.

So, he walked through the French Quarter. As he walked he mulled over his options. Christ. He just wanted someone to talk to for a few hours. Someone who would listen. Someone who might be willing to dance close. Not a whore. Maybe someone who was as lonely as Walter Skinner. He walked on.

Off Bourbon street there had been a little club. It was dark, slightly smoky but not too toxic because the windows were open. He'd gone in and sidled up to the bar. "Bourbon," he rumbled at the bartender. It felt like a bourbon night.

There was a band playing. Not Cajun. Jazz - the blues. Something slow and sensuous. It had reminded him just a bit of that other club - the one in his dreams. Well, not really - this one was a lot less frenetic. But something had reminded him, something...Maybe it had been the fact that he spotted Fox Mulder seated at the opposite end of the bar. <What the hell is he doing here?> he wondered idly, <Mulder doesn't usually drink.> But he was drinking all right. Skinner picked up his drink and worked his way past the couples at the bar until he reached the agent's seat.

"Mulder," he rumbled in greeting. The younger man glanced up, a look of surprise on his face.

"Sir, oh, uh, have a seat," he gestured towards the stool next to him. Skinner sat down.

"Nice night," Skinner said. He stared at Mulder's glass. It was almost empty, "Buy you another drink?" he asked magnanimously.

"Oh. Sure," Mulder nodded.

"Bartender?" Skinner commanded over the crowd noise. The bartender had drawn near. "Get this man a...." he glanced at Mulder.

"Bourbon," Mulder replied.

Skinner grinned slightly, "Bourbon." The bartender left to fill the order.

Skinner studied Mulder carefully. He was still dressed in his G-man suit. His hair was a bit tousled. Skinner watched as Mulder licked his lips slightly and raised his glass to his mouth. He drained it dry and put it back down on the bar. He looked at Skinner.

"So, what brings you out this time of night, sir?" Mulder asked.

"I got restless after dinner. I needed to stretch my legs." Skinner answered. He continued to stare at Mulder's mouth. He remembered the dream again. He remembered what Mulder's mouth had done to him in the dream. He blinked, looked away, and took a sip of his own bourbon, "You?" he inquired.

"Oh, I...let's just say I needed to get out of the hotel room too," Mulder replied cryptically. The bartender had brought his second drink. He picked it up and took a healthy swig.

"I'd slow down, Mulder, if you're not used to those things they can really pack a wallop," Skinner advised with a bit of humor in his voice.

Mulder looked from his glass over to Skinner. He squinted at him.

"I'll take that under advisement, sir" he answered and than he put the glass down on the bar.

Skinner had continued to stare at Mulder. He'd known Mulder for over five years now. He was his Superior but he liked to think maybe a friend as well. In all that time however, he had never really noticed him. He had never really looked at him closely that was more to the point. <Who am I kidding?> Skinner thought. That was a bald faced lie. Of course he'd looked. And he'd looked a hell of a lot since he'd had that damnable dream.

Mulder had an interesting face. Boyish, but slightly feral Skinner thought. Yeah, like his first name. Just like a fox. Unruly hair, hooded hazel eyes, and a soft sensual lower lip. Pouty came to mind. Skinner shook himself. He hadn't liked where his train of thought was going. Hadn't liked it? Another lie.

Mulder cleared his throat. Skinner felt his ears redden. The other man had caught him staring. He snatched his eyes away.

"Is anything wrong, sir?" Mulder asked concern in his voice.

Skinner heard the concern. That was something new. It sounded comforting, it sounded...

"Wrong, no, not really," Skinner had answered. Yeah, but what's wrong with this picture? <Fuck it - nothing,> Skinner thought. Maybe he'd found someone to talk to tonight. Maybe a friend with which to commiserate. At least someone with which he had common ground. And he was a hell of a dancer. <But - oh shit, that's the dream again,> Skinner thought with alarm. He'd taken another swig from his glass and drained it dry.

"Bartender," he shouted over the din. "Bourbon," he said.

He couldn't help but think of his dream. People often dreamed of things they were too uptight to admit to in their waking hours. Skinner had an inkling that might be what was happening to him. It had been an epiphany. For the first time he began to realize what his dream had really meant. Maybe tonight he was realizing what he needed at last.

Skinner stared at Mulder again and Mulder turned to look at him.

"I don't usually drink bourbon, hell, I don't usually drink," Mulder stated lifting his glass up to stare at it's contents.

"So, why are you drinking now? Do you want to talk about it?" Skinner asked. He pinned Mulder's eyes for a moment but then he'd looked away to pick up the drink the bartender had just set before him.

"Not really, sir, but thanks for asking," Mulder replied.

They sat in silence for a bit. Skinner began to sweat slightly. It was hot. Or was it? <Shit, this is getting nowhere,> he thought. What had he been thinking anyway?

He'd been thinking of Mulder's tight ass grinding against his groin on a dance floor somewhere in a dream. And wanting it, and wanting more, and then Mulder's mouth on his cock and wanting it, wanting his mouth...Skinner had clenched his teeth at the images running through his mind. There it was - the truth. He'd admitted the truth. He had sought the truth and it had come to him in a dream.

That moment in The French Quarter seemed like a dream as well. A dream with Skinner sitting close to Mulder. A dream with a glass of bourbon in Walter Skinner's shaking hand. He knew what he wanted, but he had absolutely no idea what to do next. Maybe he should have just gone back to the hotel.

"Listen, Mulder, I'd better get going. It's late."

"Oh, hey, don't go on my account. I mean don't let my mood ruin your - what am I ruining, sir?" he asked hazily. Skinner looked in his eyes again. Mulder was a little high.

"Other than your liver, Mulder, you're not ruining anything for me tonight," Skinner let a grin play across his lips.

Mulder guffawed. "That is good, sir. Funny. Really."

"Yeah, well, you should hear my whole stand-up routine, it's killer," Skinner laughed and Mulder laughed as well. Some ice was broken in that laughter.

A Bit Later.....

"So, I said, Phoebe, the monument is just fine as far as I'm concerned, and..."

"You're not telling me you had that woman on top of the monument?"

"Fraid so, sir," Mulder gave Skinner his lopsided grin.

They had left the main bar and moved to a dark booth in a secluded corner. Skinner sat across from Mulder. He'd gotten the younger man to slow down on the booze. He hadn't wanted him to be drunk as a skunk tonight, or hung over in the morning.

"So, any amusing conquests in your background, sir?"

Mulder asked, muzzily. He was still a little drunk and loose.

<Not yet,> Skinner thought.

"Not really, Mulder, unless you count that call girl I was accused of murdering," Skinner replied before he thought better of it. Shit what an idiotic thing that had been to say.

"Hey, Mulder, I brought it up. Skip it, don't worry. It's all water under the bridge."

Mulder looked down at the table top. He must have been more drunk than Skinner realized because suddenly tears welled up in his eyes.

Skinner's jaw tightened. He shifted over to sit close to Mulder. Hot tears had begun to crawl down Mulder's cheeks. "Hey, Mulder, it, it's ok, you didn't wreck my evening, really. It's nothing to get upset about," Skinner comforted him. He reached over and placed a hand on the younger man's back.

Mulder tensed for a second but then he relaxed and leaned against Skinner.

"I'm sorry sir. I...I'm drunk. Some...stuff happened earlier in the evening and I, well, I guess I'm not coping with it very well."

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Skinner asked. He stroked Mulder's back. He rubbed his hand up and down his lean muscular torso.

Mulder looked over at him under a fan of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. He studied Skinner's face. Something passed across his eyes. He glanced at Skinner's arm.

"Do you want me to stop?" Skinner asked in a low voice.

Mulder blinked at him, "Uh, no that feels good, sir," he replied quietly. "And..I had a dream about my sister. I fell asleep in the hotel room right after dinner and, God, it was a bad one this time. I hate those dreams...they're not dreams they're fucking nightmares. Horrible. They're...oh damn! I don't want to burden you with this now." He hiccuped.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine. I'll respect that, Mulder. No problem."

"My Father used to do that," Mulder whispered.

"Do what?" Skinner asked.

"Rub my back after I'd had a bad dream," Mulder replied.

"Oh, Yeah. My Mother did that for me," Skinner said.

"Listen, Mulder, would you like to bar hop a little with me tonight. Uh, I'm sure we can find a couple of good places down here in the Quarter."

"Bar hop?"

"Yeah, you know - check out the night life. Since the conference doesn't open until 1 PM tomorrow I thought you'd like to take in the sights. We don't have to be up as early. You can sleep in." Skinner answered.

"Oh. Right I knew that. Ok, what the hell. Sure," Mulder agreed with a smile. They both rose and exited the club.

They walked out onto Bourbon Street. They hit a couple more bars. One had been playing Cajun and Zydeco music, the other jazz. They had stopped to listen for a bit and then moved on. Neither of the bars had seemed quite right and they had both kept up the search for just the right place. The night air finished sobering Mulder up. He was walking normally. Skinner lead them down a dark side street and finally into the establishment that he thought might be made to order for them.

Mulder looked around as they headed to a booth near the rear. He drew close to Skinner and bent to speak into his ear over the bar noise, "Sir, this is a gay bar."

Skinner turned and pressed his mouth to Mulder's ear, "Oh, yeah, I guess it is. Is that a problem, Mulder?"

"Uh, no I guess not," Mulder blinked. Skinner lead him into the booth. Mulder sat down and Skinner sat across from him.

"Would you like another drink?" Skinner asked.

"Maybe just one," Mulder replied looking around him with evident interest. The clientele had been pretty average but the bar lead back to an airtight glass door, and they could see flashing lights. Someone had opened the door to enter and blaring dance music throbbed through the air before the door had a chance to close.

"Dance floor, hey?" Mulder asked.

"Looks like it," Skinner replied. He hadn't quite gotten the guts yet to ask for that dance. But he was working up to it.

Skinner signaled for a waiter. One appeared, took their order for more bourbon, and disappeared.

Mulder stopped looking around the room and brought his hazel eyes around to focus on Skinner. A small smile played around his lips.

"Sir, why did you bring me here?" he asked with his usual directness.

Skinner swallowed hard, "Why do you think I brought you here, Mulder?" Skinner asked pinning his eyes.

"I'm flattered sir..." Mulder began.

"But, you're going to leave?" Skinner sighed.

"No, I wasn't going to say that. I was going to say, I'm flattered that you'd think I'm, well...desirable enough to...that you would consider...Shit, are you trying to seduce me, sir? Because really, if that's the case, I'm not offended. It's very flattering."

Skinner had laughed, "I guess I wasn't very subtle, was I?"

"Well, I never considered you a very subtle person anyway."

Skinner thought he was babbling like a total moron. He was saved by the waiter returning with their drinks. He took a swig from his glass. His face began to color with a mixture of desire and embarrassment. He put his hands on the table top and clenched them together around his bourbon.

Mulder reached across and touched his hands, "Sir, it's all right really. I understand. I've known you for a long time. Like I said, this is flattering. I'm not going to hold this against you. I won't breath a word about it later if you don't want me to."

Skinner looked at him miserably. Well he had certainly screwed up royally hadn't he? How would he ever live this down? What a jerk he'd been. How clueless could he possibly be to think....

"So, sir do you want to dance or what?" Mulder asked interrupting Skinner's reverie.

"What?" Skinner asked dumbstruck.

"Do you want to dance? I'm not a bad dancer. Do you want to trip the light fantastic, sir?" Mulder repeated his question.

<Jesus,> Skinner thought. <That mouth.> His groin had begun to throb.

"Yeah, I'd like to dance," Skinner answered. He barely recognized his own voice.

"Well, we can't leave our coats here," Mulder chuckled. He fanned his suit coat back slightly. His gun was still on his hip, "I don't mind a little good honest sweat, sir."

"Hell no, you're right," Skinner answered, "And besides, we don't want to scare the natives."

Mulder laughed. He shoved his coat back down. Skinner adjusted his over his weapon as well. They rose from the booth. They turned and headed for the door at the back of the bar.

Mulder pulled the door open and music assaulted their ears. He walked through the door and Skinner felt him take his hand. Walter Skinner followed Mulder into the sound and fury of the dance floor.

Mulder moved directly out into the crowd of dancers. He released Skinner's hand and kept his back to his boss. Skinner saw him reach up and loosen his tie. That one gesture almost made Skinner moan.

The scene became just like Skinner's dream again. The beat rocked him right to his bones and he stepped forward and gripped Mulder's waist as they began to move in time to the booming bass. Mulder had been right, and Skinner's dream had been right as well. Mulder was a good dancer. His body was loose, molten, like flowing lava, and just as hot as he ground his ass against Skinner's crotch.

Skinner held on to Mulder's hips as he moved against him. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of Mulder's tight ass against his cock. He could even feel the man's holster and gun as it rubbed against him. He couldn't believe what was happening. He admitted he wanted it. Wished for it since that night he had the dream. It had been his unspoken fantasy. But, it was almost too much for him all ready and his breath came in ragged gasps.

He bent forward and spoke into Mulder's ear, "You move like a fucking leopard, Mulder." Mulder arched his head back slightly and Skinner brushed his lips against his neck. He could taste the salt on his skin. He had on some kind of musky cologne that smelled familiar but Skinner hadn't been able to quite place it.

Mulder continued to pump his ass against Skinner's genitals in time to the deafening techno-tribal dance music that blared around them. Strobe lights played across their skin. The effect had been mesmerizing and it caused Skinner to forget about everything else except his cock and Mulder's grinding ass. Skinner knew Mulder could feel his erection. Jesus, how could he miss it? Skinner was rock hard. The dance floor had been packed with gyrating couples. Skinner only had eyes for Mulder.

Skinner turned Mulder around in his arms and pulled him closer. He ground his cock against him. He was able to feel Mulder's length pressed against his leg. Mulder's cock was at half mast. Skinner reached down and touched him. He ran his hand lightly along Mulder's length. Mulder closed his eyes and his mouth hung slack as Skinner stroked him.

There was no going back then for Walter Skinner. There had been no mistaking what his hands were doing on Fox Mulder's body. The music washed over his skin and into his blood. He was white hot with burning passion. But, he was suddenly nervous again. The desire was so painful he could almost taste it. But then, he was consumed with self doubt. He developed a tremendous case of stage fright. He wanted to know. He had wanted to be sure.

Skinner bent forward and spoke into Mulder's ear, "Let's go back to the booth, I...I...Let's just go back so we can talk."

Mulder's breath had come in small puffs against his cheek.

"All right," he breathed against Skinner's face.

Skinner took his hand and lead Mulder back through the crowd and out the door. They walked back to the booth and sat down. They sat very close.

"What's wrong?" Mulder asked.

"Nothings wrong. I just wanted to talk. I thought maybe we should discuss what you'd like to do for the rest of the night," Skinner fished.

"Are you, serious?" Mulder asked with a wry grin.

"Mulder, for Christ sake, have you done this before?" Skinner blurted out. His worry, doubt and fear caused his voice to shake for the first time in years.

"You mean dance with my boss in a gay bar? No."

"Yes."

"When?"

"Once. At Oxford, sir. In college. And you?"

"Once? Is that all? Really?"

"Yes."

"Crap."

"No. I've done this more than once Mulder. But only with the same...man. In Vietnam. I...there was a buddy of mine...he...we, we were on leave together a lot and...oh damn."

"Sir, you don't have to tell me. Look, you really want to know why I came with you tonight don't you?"

Skinner nodded his head slightly in the affirmative.

"To be honest it started out as curiosity."

"Curiosity, for God's sake Mulder, what do you think I am - a fucking X-File? Jesus!" Skinner grated. He started to stand up and leave.

Mulder grabbed his arm, "No sir, please sit down and hear me out."

Skinner sat back down. Some of the gruff Skinner shown through for a moment, "Speak" he snapped. His glasses caught a beam of reflected light from the bar. The light caused his lenses to flash.

"I was curious. You must realize by now I'm open to extreme possibilities. I...I've always been curious about what it might be like, you know, to experiment..." Mulder let his voice trail off. He brushed his hair out of his eyes.

Skinner squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "With me?" he whispered.

"Yes," Mulder admitted, "Tonight tells me you were more than a little curious too," he added smiling into Skinner's shocked eyes.

"Shit, why didn't you say something before now, Mulder?"

Mulder had shrugged, "Why didn't you?"

"OK, Point taken."

Skinner smiled at the younger man. He glanced down at his own crotch. Christ he had a huge boner. He really needed to do something about it soon. It was almost painful.

Mulder glanced in the direction of his eyes.

"Sorry about that, sir," he said, amusement in his voice.

"Oh, Sure, Mulder," Skinner chuckled. Then he got serious, "Listen, Mulder I'm going to admit to you I've been more than curious for a while now. I...Hell, this is hard for me to admit, all right. I'm dying here, Mulder. But, I don't care if it's just curiosity on your part, or the chance to experience your much valued extreme possibilities."

Mulder remained impassive so Skinner plunged on. He looked down at his hands.

"What I'm trying to say is - tonight, just for tonight Mulder, I'm offering. OK? But, I don't expect you to want the same thing I want no matter how much you say yes. I know it's not...well I don't think you swing this way as a rule. So, I'm going to give you a chance to bow out gracefully before we both do something we may regret later. I'm going to go back to the hotel now. I'll wait for an hour. If you're still interested you know what suite I'm in - 1013. Just come on up and knock on the door."

Skinner coughed slightly and looked back up into Mulder's steady gaze.

"Just for one night. A one night stand?" Mulder asked quietly.

"Yes, no strings attached. No mention again that this ever happened, understood?" Skinner assured him.

"I understand, sir," Mulder answered.

Skinner nodded his head once, "All right then." He wrapped his knuckles on the table for emphasis and then he rose and left the booth. He didn't even look back at Fox Mulder.

The walk back to the hotel caused his ardor to cool somewhat. He wasn't quite as stiff. It made walking a hell of a lot more easy. He made one brief stop on his way back to the hotel. An all night drugstore. He slapped the box of condoms and tube of KY jelly down defiantly at the check out. He pulled cash from his pocket to pay for both. The purchase had been his one concession to optimism.

Skinner had reached the hotel in 30 minutes.

xXx

In the Heat of the Night...

So, now he stood thinking it was too hot in the room as he looked out onto the French Quarter and waited for Fox Mulder. He stood looking out the window after he had removed his tie and threw it over a chair. He took off his suit coat and threw it over the tie. He refused to look at his watch again.

There was a knock at the door. He finally looked at his watch. One hour exactly. He released his breath. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it.

He crossed to the door and opened it.

"Hi," Mulder grinned. He lifted the bottle he held in his hand, "I think this was the brand, wasn't it?" he asked.

Skinner eyed the bottle of top shelf bourbon.

"Oh, yeah, that's the brand," he smiled, "Come on in."

Mulder walked in and set the bottle down on the suite's wet bar. He glanced around.

"Your room's a hell of a lot bigger than mine," he quipped.

"Suite. It's a suite," Skinner replied with humor, "And hey, with the fucking hoops they make me jump through, the Bureau should spring for something like this once in a while."

"Good point," Mulder replied, "Are there glasses back there?" he asked pointing behind the wet bar.

"Yeah. Why don't you pour us a couple of drinks."

"Ok, coming right up, sir." Mulder answered.

"Fox, I guess you can drop the sir for tonight. Why don't you just call me Walter."

"Ok. But Walter, call me Mulder, all right? I don't even let Scully call me Fox," the younger man requested as he walked behind the wet bar. He pulled two glasses from underneath it.

Skinner caught the inflection in his words. Scully? For God's sake. "Scully? Are you fucking HER?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

Mulder was opening the bottle of bourbon. He twisted the cap once, than twice and then without missing a twist of his wrist replied, "As a matter of fact, Walter..."

"Jesus, never mind. I don't want to know," Skinner shook his head in amazement as he crossed over to the wet bar. He walked behind it and stood next to Mulder. Mulder was smirking slightly as he put the bottle cap down on the bar. He poured a finger of bourbon into each of the two glasses.

He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to Skinner. He picked up the other and than clinked it against Skinner's glass. The amber liquid sloshed around. Skinner looked into Mulder's eyes. His eyes were hazel flecked with gold.

"Here's looking at you, Walter," Mulder said. He tipped his glass up and drained it in one gulp. He swallowed hard.

Skinner tipped his up and did the same. Then he put the glass back down on the top of the wet bar. Mulder followed his movement and then he set his down as well. They stood staring at each other for a moment. And then Skinner stepped forward and took Mulder by the hip with one hand. He reached up and touched his cheek. Mulder shut his eyes and inclined his head into Skinner's hand as it ran down his face.

Skinner crushed Mulder against him and kissed him convulsively. His hands were shaking as he brought them up to grip Mulder's head. He pulled his head closer to deepen the kiss.

Their tongues warred and chased each other around their mouths. Skinner tried to be gentle. He didn't want to frighten Mulder with the intensity of his desire. He was almost beyond thought. He groaned low in his throat. Mulder ran his hands down onto Skinner's ass and gripped him tight.

"I take it that means you're accepting my offer?" he chuckled.

Skinner let a small smile play across his lips, "Yeah, well, it hasn't exactly been yesterday for me either. Maybe, uh, maybe we should take things a little more slowly? Would that be all right with you?"

"Sure, I think we'd enjoy this a lot more that way. Savor the moment as they say." Mulder smiled, "Would you like to go into the bedroom?" he added.

Skinner swallowed, "Yeah, I think that might be a good idea."

Mulder took his hand and led him into the suite's bedroom.

"Hey, you know how to pick 'em, don't you?" Mulder laughed. The bed was an enormous looking King.

"Well, it came with the suite," Skinner retorted. The room was in shadow.

"Lights on or off, Mulder?" Skinner asked.

"Oh. Well, how about just the bed side lamp? A little atmosphere never hurts."

"Does Scully like mood lighting?" Skinner asked as he walked over and switched on the light. The room was bathed in a soft glow.

Mulder shook his head, "Now, now, Walter. Don't ask, don't tell," he quipped.

Skinner laughed, "Yeah, all right, I'll drop the subject."

Mulder was standing by the bed. He started to take off his tie. He stopped and pulled out his wallet and ID. He removed his gun and holster. All of it went on the night stand. Skinner did the same.

Skinner began to unbutton his shirt.

"Would you like me to do that for you Walter?" Mulder asked quietly.

"Oh, uh, sure," Skinner replied. He was grateful. His hands were shaking again.

Mulder walked over and stood in front of Skinner. His hazel eyes seemed to bore right into Skinner's head. He concentrated on working each of Skinner's shirt buttons lose. Skinner breathed deeply as Mulder opened his shirt for him. He watched Mulder work the shirt tail up out of his pants. Mulder pushed Skinner's shirt back and off his shoulders. It dropped to the floor behind the older man. Skinner reached down and pulled up his own t-shirt. He pulled that off as well and threw it onto the floor.

"How about you, Mulder?" he asked huskily, "I, I'd like to watch you undress," he whispered.

"Watch me? Hey, all right. Hang on." Mulder stepped back. Skinner sat down on the edge of the bed. He stared at the younger man. Sweat beaded on his brow. He knew it wasn't too hot in the room now. He'd jacked up the cool air earlier. No, he was hot, incredibly on fire. His entire nervous system was glowing.

Mulder removed his shoes and socks. He placed them next to the night stand. Then he removed his tie and suit coat and threw them over onto an over stuffed chair next to the bed. His shirt and then his t-shirt came off next, slowly. He glanced at Skinner and smiled.

Skinner smiled back, "You have a...uh, your chest is...you're in good shape Mulder," he stammered.

"Yeah, I do a lot of swimming and running Walter," Mulder replied.

"Yeah, I guess I knew that," Skinner admitted.

"And, you have nothing to be embarrassed about there either. I'd say you've kept yourself in shape," Mulder complimented the older man, "You must still work out."

"Yeah, I still lift weights," Skinner replied, nodding in acknowledgment of the compliment. Skinner nervously ran his hand over his mouth as Mulder's hands moved to his belt buckle. His eyes followed each movement of Mulder's hands. He had long, really graceful fingers. Skinner looked at his own hands. They were large and blunt. Rough. He hoped distantly that his hands would be gentle tonight. He knew Mulder's would. He wanted to feel those graceful hands. He ached for them.

Mulder pulled his belt from the loops and tossed it over to join his tie. He made short work of pulling down his slacks and then he stood before Walter Skinner in just his boxers. They were black silk boxers with white UFOs all over them. Skinner suppressed a grin.

"Ok, I will tell you these were a gift from Scully," Mulder smirked, "And don't say anything - all right?"

Skinner raised both his eyebrows and then he laughed like hell. "Well, it's sort of a relief to know Dana Scully has a sense of humor, at least."

He got his laughter under control then, "Uh, can I take those off for you, Agent Mulder?" he asked quietly.

Mulder arched an eyebrow and smiled wide. He shrugged and raised his arms slightly.

"So, does it meet with your approval, Walter?" Mulder asked chuckling.

"Oh, yeah. Most definitely."

"Well, if this is show and tell, don't you think you should take your turn now?" Mulder asked.

Skinner looked up into Mulder's eyes. He sighed. He had been hoping to put that off a little longer but he guessed he'd just run out of time. Mulder was watching him intently. He decided he'd better let him in on the one thing that made him a bit self conscious about his physique.

"All right, but I need to tell you something, Mulder." he began as he undid his belt.

He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks placing them with the shoes next to Mulder's shoes by the night stand. He looked back up at Mulder.

"What?" Mulder asked his eyes following Skinner's hands just as he had done with Mulder's a moment before.

"Well, you remember my telling you I was wounded in Nam, right?"

"Yes."

"Well...Oh crap, just look," he said. He removed his slacks, belt still attached, along with his white briefs in one harsh yank. He stepped out of them as well but he continued to look down at his feet.

Skinner heard Mulder's small intake of breath. Well that was better than most people managed the first time they saw his scars.

Walter Skinner had been severely wounded in combat. As a matter of fact, he had almost died from his wounds. He had a large white twisted scar that ran from just above his belly button down around past his genitals through his pubic hair and over onto his hip bone. He had another smaller scar on his thigh. Both scars were from the combat wounds, of course, and the less than expert MASH unit surgery afterwards.

He was always self conscious the first time a lover saw the scars. People could be funny about such things. <Lover?> he thought. Christ he'd just referred to Fox Mulder as his lover.

"God, Walter, I, I had no idea," Mulder whispered and then he walked forward and touched the scar lightly with his finger. Skinner hissed as Mulder trailed his fingers over his hard flat stomach.

"Shit, Walter, your stomach's like a fucking washboard," Mulder said in appreciation. He ran his fingers through Skinner's pubic hair towards his cock. Skinner hadn't been completely hard yet but the proximity of Mulder's fingers was getting him there very quickly.

"Do you want me to touch your...do you want me to touch you?" Mulder asked, shyly.

"Yes," Skinner replied very quietly.

Mulder trailed his fingers down Skinner's hardening length. Skinner shifted and Mulder took his cock in his hand.

Skinner stepped close and placed one hand on Mulder's shoulder for support. He placed his forehead against Mulder's as the younger man began to pump his cock slowly and erotically. Skinner's mouth sagged open slightly. His breath quickened.

"Is this the way you like it?" Mulder whispered.

"Good, Ahhh. Yeah, that's good," Skinner managed to gasp. He concentrated on the sensations, but he also concentrated on holding back. He was in ecstasy and he wanted to prolong it as long as he could. He didn't want to come. But he did want to share the moment. He reached down and took Mulder's half erect cock in his hand. Mulder rested his free hand lightly on Skinner's hip. Skinner began to lazily stroke Mulder's penis in time with Mulder's movements on his organ. Mulder's penis swelled and lengthened in his grasp. The younger man shut his eyes and savored Skinner's ministrations as the older man began to pump him harder.

"Do you want to come like this?" Skinner hissed into Mulder's face. He was pressing his forehead hard against Mulder's forehead. His eyes were tightly shut. The feeling in his cock and balls was indescribable. A low moan broke from his throat.

Mulder's hips bucked slightly. "Fuck, Walter, Stop, I'm gonna, no, not..."

"Ok, hang on," Skinner said and then he grasped Mulder just behind the glans and squeezed him hard.

"Christ," Mulder hissed in surprise. He removed his hand from Skinner's cock and grabbed at Skinner's hand. His imminent need to ejaculate was gone in Skinner's powerful grip.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't you know about that technique? It'll stop you from coming. You're going to go half mast again for a while but we'll take care of it," Skinner chuckled.

"God, well, yeah I knew about it but you could have given me a little warning," Mulder laughed despite the slight shock.

Skinner smiled. It seemed Dana Scully was a woman of many talents. Mulder removed his hand from Skinner and Skinner removed his from Mulder's cock.

Skinner took Mulder's hands in his and drew him closer. Mulder settled against him comfortably and Skinner wound his hands around his body and onto his ass. Mulder did the same. They kissed. Skinner's hard on pressed between Mulder's thighs. Skinner tasted bourbon again as their tongues explored the recesses of each other's mouths.

"Oh, God, Mulder, you, you taste good," Skinner moaned.Mulder parted from Skinner. He looked into his glasses. He reached up and removed them. Skinner smiled. He had been so caught up in the moment he had forgotten to remove his specs. Mulder moved briefly to put Skinner's glasses on the night stand. He turned back around and came to stand in front of Skinner again.

Skinner gulped. In his dreams he had seen this moment and now his dream was about to be fulfilled.

"Christ, yes," He touched the younger man's hair as Mulder went down on his knees in front of him, "But, not too much, all right. I'm close too. I don't want to come yet either," he advised.

"Tell me when to stop," Mulder replied and then he took Skinner's cock into his mouth. Electric jolts of fire climbed up Skinner's penis, traveled along his spine and exploded in white hot shards behind his myopic eyes.

Mulder gripped Skinner's hip with one hand and his penis with the other. He took him all in. He worked his mouth from the base of his cock back down to the tip. Once. <Oh God,> Twice. <Oh Fuck,> Skinner began to buck his hips, Thrice, <Oh Dear God!> Mulder ran his lips and tongue around the tip of Skinner's cock, teasing him. <Jesus, somebody taught him how to do this right,> Skinner thought.

A small drop of liquid appeared at the tip of Skinner's penis. Mulder sucked it in and than ran it around the tip with one long lap of his tongue. <That's it,> Skinner thought suddenly, "Stop," he gasped shutting his eyes. Mulder pulled back instantly. Skinner struggled to regain control. He sighed. It had been close but he knew he'd be able to keep it up. He had other needs for his erection tonight. He didn't want to lose it quite yet.

Mulder stood up. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, more than all right," he smiled and touched Mulder's chin.

Mulder smiled back. He reached his hand over and touched his bald scalp, "Do you mind? I, I've been dying to do this for a long time." Mulder smirked a bit.

"Sure, some people think it's good luck," Skinner quipped back.

Mulder grinned. "I thought you had to be Irish for that to work."

Mulder guffawed. He ran his hand tenderly over Skinner's head. "It feels like your ass,
Walter," he grinned wickedly.

"Hey, watch it Mister," Skinner laughed. He swatted Mulder playfully on the butt, "Hey, do you want to get in bed?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think that would be just fine, Walter."

They lay down side by side and than the body work began in earnest. Skinner just wanted to touch Mulder all over. The younger man lay back and allowed him to explore. He obviously enjoyed the attention. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared as Skinner stroked his neck.

Skinner thought he looked like a stallion tamed only temporarily - ready to run at any moment. Mulder's breath began to quicken and he shifted and stretched under Skinner's touch. As he stretched the stallion disappeared and in it's place a panther appeared, arching it's back in pleasure under it's master's hands.

Skinner reveled in Mulder's taunt, male body. Lean, muscular. Like his own but different as well. His evening beard stubble. His sparse chest hair. The hard curve of his hip. The mixture of soft and rough skin. His full head of perpetually unruly hair. Skinner ran his hands through that hair. He brushed Mulder's bangs out of his hazel eyes. Mulder opened his eyes then and smiled at Skinner.

Skinner noticed his mouth again. He lingered over his lips. That pouting, sensuous lower lip. He ran a finger over that lip, slowly and erotically. Mulder's breath quickened further and Skinner bent and kissed him long and slow.

He took Mulder's hand and placed it on his chest signaling to the younger man that he wanted his touch in return. Mulder was more than happy to oblige. Mulder rubbed Skinner's hard nipples. He ran his hands over his entire body. His long graceful fingers. Just like Skinner had dreamt, just like he'd wanted all along. Skinner fell flat and closed his eyes as well. Mulder replaced his hands with his mouth.

When Mulder reached the older man's stomach he stopped and scooted back up to lay next to Skinner. He propped himself up on one elbow and touched the tip of Skinner's nose. Skinner's eyes popped open.

"Isn't this usually where one partner asks the other, top or bottom?" he asked quietly. Skinner stared at him hard.

"What?"

"Uh, I'm sorry if I'm getting this wrong, Walter. I...well to tell you the truth this is pretty much as far as I got the last time. We ended up sucking each other off - that was it." He looked at Skinner, his eyes hooded and lazy as he ran a finger over Skinner's chest.

"Oh," Skinner replied in a small voice. He hadn't considered this possibility. The next step had been something he had hoped for but hadn't really expected anyway. It was a lot to ask for on a one night stand with a less than experienced partner. Well, that was all right he thought. He could certainly do for Mulder what that first college boy had done and probably a hell of a lot better too.

"Well, that's ok, Mulder, uh, we can just do that if you'd like. I...I don't need to go any further."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Mulder. Yeah, I'd like to go further."

Mulder looked down at Skinner's erection as if he were sizing things up. He looked back up and said, "So, I'm asking, top or bottom? Am I getting the question right Walter?"

"Oh, yeah, you're getting it right, Mulder. Which would you prefer?"

Skinner knew he would do anything for Mulder at that point. Just his willingness to go further filled his chest with emotion. Skinner touched the other man's cheek. He ran his hand along the stubble on Mulder's jaw.

"I'd prefer to see you happy, Walter," Mulder replied quietly. Skinner's stomach lurched. He growled low in his throat and pulled the younger man fiercely into his embrace. They kissed wildly, groping and grunting, tongues warring in each other's mouths. Their legs tangled.

Skinner released Mulder's mouth for a moment and the younger man sobbed under his breath, "Oh Jesus."

Skinner held him close and whispered in his ear, "On top."

"Yes," Mulder agreed. Skinner released him and gently rubbed Mulder's hip.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"All right, Mulder, hang on a second then." Skinner said and he reached over Mulder and struggled with the night stand drawer. He pulled out the box of condoms and tube of lubricant. Mulder arched an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm somewhat of an optimist, contrary to popular belief," Skinner said.

"Yeah, I guess," Mulder grinned. "But those aren't really necessary, you must know I'm clean, and I assumed...." he let his voice trail off.

"Oh, I'm clean, Mulder," Skinner rumbled, "If I wasn't I wouldn't have asked you to be with me. But these are lubricated, and believe me, it's going to help. Besides, I enjoy using one of these. It, well, I can...it just prolongs the experience so to speak."

"Oh. Well, I can understand that," Mulder replied quietly.

Skinner placed the tube of KY jelly next to them on the bed within easy reach. He opened the box of condoms and took out one of the packets. Mulder watched as he ripped the foil. Skinner slid the damp rubber out.

"Allow me," Mulder smiled and he took the rubber from Skinner's hands. Skinner lay back, his erection jutting between them. Mulder gently unrolled the condom down Skinner's length. The little reservoir tip bobbed at the top with each heavy breath Skinner took.

"So, how do you want to do this? Mulder asked huskily, as he sat up further. "Should I get on my hands and knees?"

Skinner looked in his eyes. He could tell Mulder was still a bit nervous. He didn't want to hurt him. He wanted the next minutes to be a pleasant experience for them both.

"We could do it that way, but if you'll let me guide you, I mean, let me show you I think I know a better way. I...I'd like to see your face anyway."

Skinner shifted and rose to kneel at Mulder's side. He gently pushed Mulder flat onto the bed. He touched his knee.

"You'll need to raise these, buddy." Mulder did as suggested. Skinner pushed his knees apart and moved to kneel between Mulder's thighs. Skinner reached forward and took Mulder's erection into his hand.

"No problem, Walter," Mulder touched his arm.

"Just lay back and let me do the work...lover," he barely whispered the last word as he began to pump Mulder's cock. The younger man closed his eyes again and a dreamy smile played across his lips. Skinner thought he looked incredibly handsome. He increased the motion of his hand. Mulder began to rotate and buck his hips again. He moaned low in his chest. Skinner could tell he was holding back himself this time, savoring the sensations.

"That's right, Mulder, relax. Ride it. Come on. That's it. God, I love the feel of your cock," he rumbled. "I love it when you moan and move like that for me, I..."

"Stop!" Mulder opened his eyes and grabbed Skinner's wrist quickly. Skinner stop instantly. Mulder smiled. "I'm *relaxed* enough big guy, my fucking spine's turned to butter," he gasped.

"Ok." Skinner breathed raggedly. He reached over and grasped Mulder's right knee. "Raise your knees up, Mulder, I mean up high ok, Can you bring your legs back? You know, like you would if you're doing those gut buster sit-ups in the gym?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Mulder hissed, his face a grimace of pleasure, as his cock throbbed between his legs.

Mulder raised his knees and legs up. Skinner reached over and grabbed a pillow. He placed it carefully under Mulder's raised ass. He picked up the tube of lubricant. He squirted some out onto his palm and warmed it up between his hands.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, God, I'm more than ready," he sighed.

"I'm going to work a couple fingers in here first. This shouldn't be to bad. You've had your prostate checked haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, this is going to feel a lot like an exam. But look, if I hurt you don't hesitate to say something. I don't want to hurt you Mulder. Don't be a martyr, all right?"

"I hear you," Mulder smiled to reassure him.

Skinner smeared the lubricant over his fingers. He moved his hand between Mulder's ass cheeks. He inserted a finger slowly into the younger man's body. Mulder tensed slightly.

"Mulder, relax, I mean it. Take a deep breath." Mulder did as Skinner suggested. Skinner felt him loosen. He inserted the first finger up to it's base. Mulder remained relaxed so Skinner inserted his second finger. Mulder gasped a bit.

"Are you ok?" Skinner asked quickly. Mulder's larynx worked. "Yeah, that, that feels kind of good," he whispered. Skinner smiled.

"Ok, shut your eyes again if you want. How does this feel?" Skinner asked. He moved his fingers in and out gently, seductively. He teased them in and out.

Mulder's eyes dropped shut and he titled his ass up a bit further. "Oh God, that, yeah..." he husked.

Skinner continued to stroke inside the younger man. Mulder's breathing quickened again. Skinner felt him loosen even further under his hand.

"All right, Mulder, I, I'm going to fuck you now. I'm going to go really slow. If it hurts tell me to stop. Please don't let me hurt you. I'm serious."

Mulder nodded his head once. Skinner smeared additional lubricant on both Mulder's ass and the condom and then he gripped Mulder's legs to steady them. He pressed his cock against the younger man and then he gently began to push inside him.

Mulder's breath caught in his throat, "Ohhh..." he groaned. Skinner stopped his gentle pushing. "Are you ok?" he asked again.

"Yeah, God, this is...Christ, Walter, go ahead. I...want... Oh God, go deeper, please.." Mulder begged.

Skinner almost went over the edge right there. The sound of Mulder begging for his cock almost sent him crashing over into the orgasm he knew he wanted now more than anything. He gasped for control. He concentrated to stay calm and gentle. He tenderly held Mulder's knees. He thrust in further. He was up to the hilt inside his lover.

Skinner settled against Mulder, "How are you doing, guy?" he asked quietly.

Mulder opened his eyes, "I'm fine, Walter," he smiled and than his face twisted in pleasure again. "I thought this WOULD hurt, but, God, it's...it feels so good."

"Are you sure you're all right? Skinner whispered, "Is it really good? Is that the truth? Please don't lie to me." there was tenderness and pleading in Walter Skinner's voice.

"It's the truth," Mulder replied staring into his eyes, "It's...it feels...I'm NOT lying!" Mulder laughed, "Christ, Walter, take my word for it, all right?"

Skinner smiled and stroked his thigh. He shifted slightly and growled low in his throat. "I wanted this so much," he whispered, "I...I need to, I need..."

"Oh My God, Mulder," Skinner groaned as Mulder's ass muscles clenched around him. That was it, he couldn't hold back any longer. Skinner moved his hips back and than forward. Thrust.

"Jesus, you're...so tight so...oh sweet Jesusss..." Skinner hissed between gritted teeth. He pulled back and thrust in again.

"Oh God," Mulder groaned.

"Is it good?" Skinner gasped. Thrust.

"Yes!"

"Say you love it." Thrust

"I love it."

"Do you want more?" Thrust

"God, yes."

"Do you want to come too?" Thrust.

"OhMyGodYes!"

Skinner reached down in front and between Mulder's legs. He grasped his erect cock and began to pump it in time with his thrusts up Mulder's ass.

"Is this good?" Pump. Thrust.

"FuckYesOhYessss!"

"And do you love this too?" Pump. Thrust.

"I Love It! Ohhhhhh! Don't Stop!"

"I won't stop lover...Pump. Thrust...I won't stop...Pump. Thrust...I won't..." Pump. Thrust. Skinner went beyond words then. He sobbed into his own chest as his hips drove between Mulder's thighs.

"Oh OH OH.." the younger man began to groan and buck up to meet his thrusts. Skinner found it hard to concentrate on what his hand was doing. He struggled desperately to keep pumping Mulder's cock. He wanted the younger man to feel the utter searing pleasure he was feeling now. The total sensory overload of being up a tight, hot ass.

Mulder sensed his trouble and he opened his eyes. He snaked his hand down to take over the job.

"Walter, just...let me do this. I can do it. Just get off. I want you to get off in me," Mulder managed to gasp out.

Skinner groaned and licked his lips. He placed both hands on Mulder's knees and pushed them up a bit farther. He began to concentrate on thrusting.

"Mulder, you...God, this is so good. Is it still good for you?" Thrust.

"Jesus, yes," Mulder groaned as he pumped his cock. Skinner looked into his eyes. What he saw there took him to new heights of pleasure. He reached back down and took Mulder's cock.

"I want to get you off too, Mulder, Come for me. I want to see your face when you come," Skinner begged.

Mulder looked Skinner square in the face. His breathing was coming in deep strangled gasps. He was so close Skinner thought. Skinner pistoned into him. His hand moved up and down Mulder's cock. Thrust. Pump. Once, Thrust, Pump, twice. Thrust, Pump, a third time. Mulder's eyes went wide.

"WALTER!" Mulder screamed, "YOU'RE HITTING MY FUCKING PROS...OHGODDDDDD!" He yelled in ecstasy and then Mulder roared out an incoherent scream. His entire body convulsed in a tremendous orgasm.

"OH God, Mulder, that's it, that's it, oh fuck, come for me, come for me," Skinner sobbed as the younger man thrust his hips up again and again. Semen squirted all over Mulder's stomach as Skinner's hand milked him.

"UHHHHHHH!" Mulder gurgled in his throat, "Walter, come with me," he managed to gasp out. He grabbed for the hand that Skinner had gripping his knee.

Mulder threw his ass up a bit higher and bucked violently against Skinner's balls. Skinner drove in deep. "Oh fuck, Oh fuck, Oh fuck!" he cried. "Mulder, keep moving, don't stop, oh God, that's good, you feel so good, I'm...oh, OH OH, OHGODMULDER!" he wailed and then he crashed over the edge into a shining white blinding light. He pumped convulsively against the other man's ass. He felt his semen exploding out of his cock, filling the condom. The hot release caused him to shout. "OHCCCCChrist!" he cried.

Mulder was shaking, and laughing and crying all at once. Skinner grunted and strained through his last few thrusts. Then he collapsed against Mulder's stomach. The younger man rolled them onto their sides. Still connected he cradled Skinner. Mulder's legs were around Skinner's waist. They both shook through the last spasms of their orgasms.

Presently their breathing slowed and became more regular. Skinner reached down and held onto the base of the condom. He carefully pulled out. He pulled the condom off and tied the end shut. He gently dropped it over the edge of the bed. He didn't want to leave his lover's side to dispose of it.

He reached for Mulder then and the younger man let him pull him close. Skinner lay flat and Mulder placed his head on Skinner's chest. Skinner brushed the tears of pleasure from Mulder's cheeks.

"You're heart's beating fast, Walter," Mulder whispered.

"Well, yours is doing the mambo in there," Skinner retorted as he stroked Mulder's ribs.

Mulder shifted then and Skinner felt it. The loss of intimacy. He was a little disappointed. But he'd expected it. After all he had told Mulder this was a one night stand. No strings attached.

The younger man didn't get out of bed as he expected however. He just moved over a bit and propped himself up on an elbow. He wiped his eyes a bit more, and then he wiped his stomach with the edge of the bed sheet. "Sorry, Walter, I just felt a little sticky," he grinned, "I guess you're going to have to leave an extra tip for the maid," he added wryly.

Skinner smiled and reached over and ran his hand over Mulder's semen stained stomach, "Yeah, it is sticky," he agreed. He put his fingers to his lips and sucked in the salty, musky taste. "A 20 per cent tip at the very least," he rumbled.

Mulder arched an eyebrow. Skinner chuckled. He lowered his eyes.

"So, are you going to leave now?" he asked quietly.

"Do you want me to leave?" Mulder asked.

"No."

"Then I'll stay," Mulder replied, "I'm beat anyway, God, Walter that was totally unbelievable. I have to get some sleep. I don't think I can even crawl back to my fucking room."

Skinner laughed. He tousled Mulder's hair, "You were fucking incredible, Spooky."

"Don't call me that, please," Mulder's eyes went dark suddenly, "I hate that even more than I hate being called Fox."

Skinner's heart lurched. He knew instantly he'd made a mistake as soon as *Spooky* had left his lips. He considered how insulting that nickname must have been for Mulder. He had no idea why he hated his first name but he did know why he hated to be called *Spooky*. Skinner had heard it used as a curse on another person's lips more than once.

"I'm sorry, Mulder, I...that was thoughtless. I apologize."

Mulder yawned slightly, "Hey, that's ok, fuck it if I can't take a joke, I guess." Then he chuckled. It turned into a yawn. Skinner laughed, and then he yawned as well.

"Don't do that, it's contagious," Skinner gently quipped.

"Sorry, Walter. But you've got only yourself to blame," Mulder teased.

It was Skinner's turn to chuckle.

Mulder lay back down. He snuggled lower beneath the sheets. Skinner lay down. They lay face to face.

"Yeah?" he answered sleepily.

"I'm going to set the alarm for 10 AM, is that ok?" Skinner asked. He moved over to do so and turned the bed side lamp off at the same time. The room was plunged into darkness.

"10? Yup, I told Scully to call me at 10:30. She'll be sleeping in as well. She was sort of tired after dealing with my nightmare."

"You were in bed with her when you had that nightmare about your sister?" Skinner asked quietly.

"Yeah. We went back to her room after dinner. We made love. I fell asleep in her arms and than I conked her on the nose when I had that fucking nightmare. Don't say anything tomorrow, Walter. She's probably going to have a bruise."

"Oh brother," Skinner chuckled slightly.

"Yeah, she was a little upset - but not over the nose actually. She was more worried about my nightmare. I told her I was going to get some fresh air and then go back to my room so she could get some uninterrupted sleep," Mulder grinned.

"Well, I will promise not to make any remarks about her nose in the morning," Skinner grinned back.

Mulder yawned again. "I do love Scully you know. I've loved her for years. I just didn't know how to tell her until about 3 months ago. Christ I never dreamed she'd want me, Walter. We only slept together for the first time two weeks ago."

"You love her?"

"I love her."

"Then why tonight, Mulder? Oh, I forgot, extreme possibilities?" Skinner asked a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Mulder pulled closer to peer into Skinner's face. He touched his shoulder tenderly to soften his words, "Yes, but don't underestimate your...self worth, Walter. You're a hell of human being."

"So, you don't think Scully would object to this?" Skinner asked stroking the other man's hair.

"Scully's a strong, intelligent woman. I don't think I need to tell you that, Walter. We're in love but we're realistic about things. And she's open to extreme possibilities too you know. I trust and respect her. We have no secrets from each other any longer."

"How so...?"

Mulder looked closely at Skinner, "I told her I was attracted to you."

"You what?" Skinner's eyes went slightly wide.

"Well you might as well tell her about us too then. I'd rather you be honest with her. I don't care. I mean, you're telling me about her after all. But what did she say Mulder?"

"Say?"

"When you told her you were attracted to me?"

"She thinks you're a stud, Walter. She respects you like hell, but she has a serious jones on for your pecs I can tell you that. She doesn't blame me at all for being attracted to you. She just said if I was ever going to go for it to make sure I used a condom," Mulder smirked.

Skinner stared at Mulder and then he burst out laughing his deep bass laugh. The image of Scully in his dream came back in a rush. He laughed even harder. Somehow he couldn't realistically imagine bedding the petite red headed Agent. Dana Scully really wasn't his type. His women were invariably tall, blond and leggy. His men? Well, there had only been two. One in Vietnam who bore an uncanny resemblance to Mulder. And now, the man himself, lying next to him in his bed that night.

Mulder joined in his laughter and then he stretched his whole body, "Listen, Walter, I really have to crash. Scully's gonna call me at 10:30 AM. You know how punctual she is. And if she can't get me in my room, she's going to call my cell phone."

"You brought your cell phone in here?" Skinner chuckled, "And why the hell didn't you just ask for a wake-up call or set your own frigging alarm?" he added, laughter still in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Was it as good as it is with her?" Skinner whispered, "Was it better?" he added shyly.

"Good? Oh yeah, no question. Better? No, not better. Just different. Scully's a hell of a woman, Walter," Mulder sighed. He reached over under the sheets and stroked Skinner's cock.

"But, that's quite a tool you have there, Assistant Director Skinner. Now, let me get some rest, all right?"

Skinner chuckled again. "Yeah, Ok, Agent Mulder." He moved close and pressed a gentle kiss on Mulder's forehead.

He would cherish the memory and wish Mulder and Scully the best. It was the least he could do for Mulder. It was the least he could do for them both. They deserved nothing less. He resigned himself to enjoying just Mulder's friendship and nothing else. No strings attached he had said. He was a man of his word.

Skinner wrapped an arm protectively over Mulder's side and down onto his stomach. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. The younger man's breathing grew steady and regular as he drifted into sleep.

Skinner waited until he was sure Mulder was fast asleep and then he bent forward and whispered into his ear, "Mulder, I lo..." His voice caught. He knew what he wanted to say, but he knew it really wasn't in the cards. The expectation wasn't fair either. That emotion, no matter how much Skinner devoutly longed for it, wasn't appropriate. And as he had told himself earlier - he was a man of his word anyway. So, instead, he leaned close again, and spoke very quietly, "Sweet dreams, Mulder," he said.

The younger man shifted and sighed. "Sculleee," Mulder mumbled. Skinner smiled a bit sadly. <C'est la vie,> he thought. Walter Skinner shut his eyes. He welcomed sleep at last and as slumber carried him off into the land of his own sweet erotic dreams, he held Fox Mulder close.