Baton Rouge - Part 2
I could hear Walter running ahead of me. He sounded like a fucking tank, a freight train. Well, he is big. He looks as wide as a brick wall and I now he's twice as hard. John Lee Atherton, the perp, knew he was coming on as Walter had said. Johnny had taken one look at Walter and headed for the hills.
The stake out had flushed him at Divine Savior all right. Believe it or not, Mr. John Lee Atherton was the architect on the restoration project. The head architect. Our man of authority - yes sir.
He'd been inside the ruined church, in the basement, for quite sometime when the two detectives from the Baton Rouge PD, Danvers and Washington and then Walter, SAC Matthews, Carmen, and yours truly had arrived to stake the sucker out.
Lights came on in the church basement, it being 9 PM and full dark by this time. We could see the dim illumination. Matthews had thought ahead and gotten a bench warrant from a judge to search the premises. We had probable cause but Matthews wasn't taking any chances. Walter gave the go ahead to make our approach.
Once inside the church Walter, Carmen and I had gone downstairs. The others had begun to search up above in case the perp was moving around. Walter was first down and then it was "FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP YOUR WEAPON!" when we surprised John Lee brandishing his great big knife. And then it was "HALT OR I'LL SHOOT." Like I said - Walter had gone in first and John Lee's eyes had gone as big as saucers. He took his knife and ran like hell out the back door. Walter was hot on his tail. The AD only stopped long enough to yell back, "Call 911". Ashley Rhodes was lying, naked, on a dirty mattress, bound hand and foot to the four corners of the bed with rope. She all ready had the Hebrew letter *D* carved in her forehead.
Carmen stopped up short and drew out her cell phone. She was dialing 911 and kneeling down next to the girl. I stopped next to the bed as well. I crouched down and touched Ashley's neck. I felt a weak pulse. The little girl started to moan.
"Christ, Carmen, she's alive."
Carmen was giving directions to the 911 dispatcher and telling them to hurry. She slapped her phone shut.
"Jesus. He carved them before he killed them," she whispered. By this time the two detectives, Danvers Washington and Matthews were crowding in. Carmen took off her tailored suit jacket and covered Ashley. She started to unbind her hands.
"Mulder, go, go - you're a hell of a lot younger. Walter's going to need back up..." Matthews was huffing a bit. Well, he was realistic at least. But he was also right behind me. He instructed Danvers to go up and snag the EMTs. The other three and Carmen were supposed to guard Ashley.
I caught most of this at a dead run as I sprinted after Walter.
So, there I was, Smith and Wesson in hand, bearing down on the location where Walter had John Lee Atherton cornered. He'd made it all the way out of the church and across the graveyard. Now he was standing with his back up against the high stone wall that surrounded the old headstones. Well, we certainly knew where he got his murder weapons from flitted through my mind as I pulled up next to Walter.
Walter was facing John Lee, gun trained on his chest. He was breathing hard and sweating bullets in the humid night air. He was also bleeding from a nasty knife cut on his left forearm. Too bad he hadn't stopped to put his suit coat back on before he left the Bu-car on the stake-out I thought. It might have deflected the knife a little.
"Sir, you're cut," I nodded at his forearm. I kept my gun and my eyes pointed at John Lee.
"No, shit, Mulder. It seems our friend here objected to my trying to pull him up short," he spat out.
"I noticed he didn't get over the wall, however," I smiled slightly.
"Fuckin' A," Walter grinned ferally. Oh yeah. I can imagine John Lee just might have fudged his Docker khakis when he felt Walter's mitts on his shoulders. No wonder he'd used the knife."
I wondered errantly why Walter hadn't just shot him. I suppose he figured the guy was running away and it was worth a try to subdue for trial rather then just shoot the man in the back.
"Sir, should I cuff him?"
Walter never looked at me. He wiped the sweat from his eyes on his rolled up shirt sleeve however, and spoke to John Lee.
"I would advise you to drop the knife. I'll give you one more chance to surrender. If you don't drop the knife, sir, I will have to shoot you."
John Lee was tall and thin, blonde and very good looking. About 30 it looked like. His eyes were wide with panic and he was breathing even more hard and sweating more profusely then either of us. In short, he was scared shitless. He waved the knife back and forth but I could see him considering his options. His hard, intelligent eyes flicked from one of us to the other. They came to rest on me for a minute.
"He's serious, sir. Shit, do I have to call you sir, I mean you've got a name, don't you?" I asked quietly.
Walter glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He set his mouth in a tight grimace. He was going to play the part to the *T*. Good cop, bad cop. Guess which one Walter likes to play?
"Yeah, I'm serious, Mulder. My trigger finger is getting very itchy here," he growled.
"Yes I do, Mulduhhhhh," John Lee replied in a thick southern accent. He was swallowing convulsively now at Walter's remark. So, a hometown boy I thought. Oh man, the press was going to have a field day with this one.
"And it is?" I asked smiling, I dipped my gun just a bit lower.
"His name's *Fucking Dead Boy*," Walter sneered. If he'd had a revolver, and not the Glock, he would have cocked the trigger. As it was he tightened both his hands on the grip and stared John Lee down. Blood ran down his arm. One of us was going to have to end this soon. Walter was bleeding badly.
I heard someone approach very quietly behind us. I heard the heavy breathing. SAC Johnson Matthews I thought. Oh goodie. The gangs all here.
John Lee's eyes bugged out. Clearly this guy was a jerk as well as a maniac. I mean I had thought he was a clever, stone cold killer. Maybe he was just a lucky fucker. But at any rate, his fucking luck had run out now.
"My name is John Lee Atherton, Daddy Warbucks. You muscle bound hunk of shit."
"Watch your mouth, John Lee, and drop the God damn knife," Walter hissed.
"Mr. Atherton, Mr. Skinner is just about at the end of his rope. I would suggest you do as he says. I don't think you really want him to shoot you. Quite frankly with that wound you've given him and his anger, I think he might mis-aim and - well he tends to aim low anyway..." I gestured towards John Lee's crotch with my own gun and then I lowered it towards the ground.
"You have to the count of three, John," Walter barked. John Lee jumped.
"Skinner? Like muleskinner? Do you skin 'em, Daddy? I mean you like to skin 'em better then shoot 'em I bet. My Daddy he...he liked to cut 'em. Oh yeah. You...you piece of cop shit. Skinner. Sounds like sinner. Are you a sinner baldy? A sinner like those whores, those little whores?"
"I made them pay. They broke the rule. So, Daddy made 'em pay. God told Moses. Moses told me. The no trespassing rule. Desecrated holy ground. All those little rocks. Look at my windows. My stain glass windows...with their little rocks... I mean, there were signs. Signs on Mount Sinai...signs...keep out. No rocks. So much broken glass..."
Oh Fuck. This guy was gone. Total Loony tunes. If I didn't do something Walter was going to have to drill him.
"John Lee!" I shouted.
"This is your Daddy talkin' boy. Cut the she-it and drop that knife. Moses didn't have no knife on Mount Sinai. He had the tablets, The Ten Commandments. And what does the 5th Commandment say, John Lee?"
"I said what does the 5th Commandant say, son?"
"Thou shalt not kill, Daddy."
"Damn straight. Now drop the knife!"
We all held our breath. John Lee Atherton threw the knife on the ground and SAC Johnson Matthews was all over him like a second skin.
Atherton was cuffed and lead away. Walter stood staring after him as Matthews hauled him off. We had heard sirens approaching during the entire final moments of John Lee's freedom. The paramedics and extra squads were arriving. Crowd control would be needed. The press were hot on their heels.
I looked back towards the church. I could see the numerous stain glass windows, many of them boarded up. John Lee had killed those poor girls because they'd pulled a simple childhood prank. They'd trespassed on church property and thrown some rocks through *his* stain glass windows. Hell. I shook my head in disgust and turned back towards where Walter was standing. Except he wasn't standing. He was sitting heavily on a headstone, his Glock back in its holster.
"Sir, are you all right?" I asked walking quickly to his side.
"Yeah. Just winded. I'll be fine."
Fine? He was cradling his arm hard against his chest to staunch the fucking blood for God's sake.
"Still, I should get an EMT to look at that arm for you."
I touched his shoulder. His arm was hot. Like hard steel straight from the forge. He tilted his head up and trapped my eyes. Both of us were breathing in unison then. One breath, two breaths, a third. He lifted his right hand and placed it over mine. His hand caressed mine, gently, once and then he dropped his hand down again to support his left forearm. He gripped his arm tight, flushed, and swallowing hard, he looked away.
"Mulder, I...I think you'd better get that EMT," he whispered shutting his eyes.
"Will you be all right if I leave..."
"Yes. Just go," he hissed. I stepped back. I was having trouble catching my breath from the emotion as well as the sticky, hot, humid Baton Rouge night air.
"I'll be right back," I replied. I was biting my lower lip to keep myself from...from what? I felt like...God...I didn't know what I felt like. Walter was looking down at the ground, studying his shoes.
I turned around and headed off, starting to run between the headstones towards the side door of the church. As I hurried away I heard Walter's tired voice sigh, "Thank you Mulder. Thank you for everything."
Somehow the authorities got past the press with John Lee Atherton. Johnson Matthews and the Baton Rouge PD transported him downtown to Baton Rouge PD headquarters.
Carmen went with Matthews. The interrogation would begin. John Lee came from a good family as it turned out. The lawyers would be sniffing round as well. But John Lee had been read his rights and had waived them, including his right to counsel. He had declared his desire to make a confession. The man had a righteous message to give. God was on his side. Right. Prick. He was being handled with kid gloves so he wouldn't change his mind.
I sat with Walter while he was treated on the scene by the paramedics. I then rode with him in the ambulance as it transported him to the closest emergency room. There he was sewn up with 20 stitches, bandaged, given a tetanus shot, antibiotics and painkillers in case the arm hurt like a son of a bitch after the lidocaine wore off. But Walter was feeling no pain really. We'd gotten our man. Gotten him before he could kill again. I wish we could have gotten him before he left his mark.
Ashley Rhodes was taken to the same hospital in critical condition. The poor kid had all ready been raped, sodomized, partially strangled into unconsciousness and then cut on the forehead before we'd gotten to her. But she was alive. And where there's life there *is* hope. Clearly however, she would need a lot of counseling. But Senator Rhodes and his wife were ecstatic to get their little girl back. They let Walter know it in no uncertain terms. Even I was given their congratulations at the hospital. Senator Matthews saw to it that the press left us alone as well. His team of spin doctors gave the press more fodder then they could ever want. Amazingly, his publicity people were joined by the former (but not to the public), SAC Scott Adams who helped fend off reporters questions having been quickly briefed by Johnson Matthews. Carmen Guitteraz was riding shotgun at his side to make sure he toed the line and got the official word out in a correct fashion.
After Walter had been treated I drove him down to police headquarters to see John Lee Atherton give his confession. It turned out to be a mistake.
John Lee was being kept in interrogation room number one downtown, sequestered with a tape recorder, Johnson Matthews, the Baton Rouge detectives who had been in on the arrest, Walter and me. There was a one way mirror in one wall of the room. Behind it was whoever could squeeze in to get a look at the baby killer.
As soon as Walter and I walked in the room the previously loquacious John Lee Atherton turned into *Tommy*, the deaf, dumb and blind boy from The Who's rock opera. He just sat there at the head of the long table in the room, staring forward seemingly at nothing, his lips zipped and his hands folded before him. The tape wound on recording silence. Finally Johnson Mattews spoke up.
"Come on John Lee. You said you had a confession to make. Don't go back on your word now," Johnson was saying. Walter stood in back of Matthews, facing John Lee. He was leaning against the wall, bandaged left arm folded over his right. He still had his suit coat off and his hard, corded forearms flexed slightly when he shifted his weight. I was sitting next to Johnson Matthews, to John Lee's right. The two Baton Rouge Detectives flanked either side of the rooms door.
"Shut up n..n..nnn..." he stuttered.
"I wouldn't go there, John Lee," Walter rumbled from behind Johnson's back. John Lee glared at Walter and then he glanced around at all of us. He ended up looking back at Walter and his eyes narrowed to mean little slits.
"I won't *go* anywhere as long as that bald headed bastard is standing there."
"John Lee..." Matthews started to warn him.
"Are you afraid of me, John Lee?" Walter whispered from his position of casual strength. He exuded authority. Power. Disapproval. John Lee was clearly cowed by him. And envious as well. He saw himself as a prophet. A Moses surrogate from the Old Testament. He was an ersatz Moses that didn't appreciate not having God in the form of AD Walter S. Skinner on his side. He hated Walter with every sinew of his body. And he was going to get a piece of Walter now. In spades.
"I'm not afraid of any man. Least of all a no account *sinner* like you, cocksucker."
"Then if you aren't afraid of me, prove it. Confess John. If you're not a coward you'll give your statement," Walter replied in a reasonable voice.
I looked up at him. Outwardly he was calm. Inwardly? I thought his guts were twisting. He hated John Lee Atherton as much as the other man hated him. The disrespect was getting to him but he was squashing it down. He kept himself still and breathing evenly with a great effort of will. There was no way he'd let John Lee see he was getting to him if he could help it. But even Walter Skinner had his limits. I was hoping John Lee didn't push him past them.
"I'm not a coward, you sinner, and I'm not stupid either," John Lee hissed, "If you think I'm going to make a statement with you here, you're crazy."
"I'm not the one who's crazy here, John Lee," Walter replied. And then he smiled at John Lee, a really nice sarcastic smile.
Johnson Matthews grimaced, "Walter..." he warned.
"Waltuh? Well, well. My Daddy's name was Waltuh. He was a cocksucker too you know," he turned his attention to Johnson.
"And if you think I'm going to tell this cocksucker that I cut up those little whores, put it up their snatch and up their ass, and then bashed them good then you're crazy too, boy!" he replied, his voice rising an octave with every word until it was an angry whining shriek that reverberated around the room.
Walter shoved off the wall and moved forward slightly. Johnson Matthews sensed the movement and motioned for him to move back. Walter stopped, his eyes like two black holes filled with flashes of lightning.
"What about floating them in the bayou?" I asked quickly. I tried to be the voice of reason, pitching my voice low and conciliatory.
"What bayou, fuckrag?" he spat at me. O-K. So much for *Mr. Nice Guy*. I thought. I lost my temper at that point. It was a very bad mistake. But boy did it feel good.
"John Lee, cut the shit. You killed those little girls and you would have killed Ashley Rhodes too if we hadn't stopped you. Why don't you do yourself and all of us a big favor and give your statement. We're tired of your chickenshit. You're wasting our valuable time."
Walter barked his deep bass laugh. That was it for John Lee Atherton. The shit was about to hit the fan.
"Don't laugh at me, cocksucker," John Lee hissed.
"Walter, I think you'd better leave," Johnson Matthews advised Walter in a low voice. He did not however, look at Walter. He kept his face pointed at John Lee Atherton. John Lee was staring daggers at Walter Skinner.
"Yeah, I think you're right, Johnson. I'd better leave. I'm getting sick to my stomach anyway," Walter rumbled sarcastically. He moved on past, Johnson's chair. He ignored John Lee Atherton with studied nonchalance. But as he drew near John Lee's chair at the head of the table, the skinny architect reared back and hawked a huge loogie of spit right onto Walter's left shoe.
"Lick that up, sinner," he hissed up at Walter's rock hard eyes.
Everyone in the room stopped breathing. I tried to pin Walter's eyes but he wouldn't look at me. He looked down at his left shoe and the gob of maniac spit that glistened on its toe. His jaw muscles worked spasmodically for a moment. He glanced up at John Lee. Atherton stared at him in defiance. Walter's face went blank, mask-like and he turned and walked past John Lee. The killer's entire body started to vibrate in anger.
Walter had almost reached the door to the room, his back and neck incredibly straight and tense before John Lee spoke again. When he spoke his voice was calm and conversational. It really made his words carry and they cut like his great big Bowie knife.
"Hey, sinner. I know those little whores liked *my* dick. But I bet they'd like that great big hard cock your sportin' right now, boy. Then again, maybe they'd never get it because your savin' that piece of meat for your boyfriend here, Mr. Mulduhhh."
Now, I've seen Walter Skinner move fast but I had never seen him move as fast as he did in the next few seconds in interrogation room number one. Before anyone could move he had turned around, crossed from the door to John Lee's chair in 3 wide strides and had the architect in a choke hold, shaking him like a rag doll. All the while he was throttling him an incoherent roar of anger came from somewhere deep in his chest.
"Walter, NO!" Matthews was yelling and then all of us were struggling on top of the two men trying to pry Walter's fingers from around Atherton's throat.
He was choking John Lee. He was going to choke him to death.
"Stop it. Sir! Sir! Stop!" I was yelling into the side of his head because he was throwing me around like a bucking bronco. Johnson and I were yanking on both his arms at the same time. The two detectives were trying to pull John Lee away from his grasp.
Finally in desperation I grabbed him in a half nelson and shoved my mouth right next to his ear, "Walter, please I don't want to put you under arrest. Scully will kill me if I have to cuff you," I hissed directly into his ear. He let go of a gasping and blue John Lee Atherton, and I pulled him off the little turd, and away towards the door. Matthews made to follow me.
"No, just...take care of things here. I'll handle it," I advised, out of breath. I was manhandling my boss out the door as fast as I could before he decided to put up a renewed fight. He was still resisting my pushing him but it didn't matter. I was really angry and the adrenaline was giving me extra strength now to get him out into the hallway.
When I yanked the door open and wrestled him out into the hall we bumped into Carmen Guitteraz who was obviously coming back from baby-sitting Scott Adams to see what was going on with our detainee.
"What the hell, Mulder!" she exclaimed seeing me with my arms full of AD.
"Carmen, get out of the way," I grunted. I steered Walter across the hall, wrestled the door to the men's room open and tossed him inside. Before I followed him in I called back to Carmen over my shoulder, "Stand by this door and don't let anyone in here." If there was all ready someone inside they were going to get the bums rush out in a big hurry. Luckily, no one was using the facilities. I slammed the door shut and stood, staring at Walter and breathing hard.
Walter walked over to one of the stall doors and kicked it hard and when it swung back on the rebound he punched it. The fucking hinges bent and the door fell sideways hanging at a crazy, haphazard angle.
"Feel better?" I asked, finally catching my breath.
"Marginally," he replied letting his breath out in a rush. He flexed his right hand experimentally. Satisfied no bones were broken, he turned his back on me and walked over to one of the urinals.
I heard him unzip his fly. Oh great. So now I was going to get a look at what John Lee had told me Walter was saving up for me? But of course I'd have to walk over and stand next to him to see if he really was hard. I wasn't about to do it. I had a wild idea suddenly that he was going to jerk himself off in front of me. Jesus, I hoped - Not? That wasn't a possibility was it? I ran my hand over my mouth. Christ. If he did beat his meat I knew I'd be down on my knees to lend a hand. No question.
But instead I heard the sound of piss hitting porcelain. OK. So John Lee had been full of shit. Well, full of shit or not, he'd hit a sore spot there with Walter Skinner hadn't he? Christ all mighty. More like an aching spot. Walter's sore little secret... or really not so little at all...A huge, hard, aching....We were going to have to talk and talk soon. After that caress in the cemetery and his reaction in the interrogation room to John Lee's goading accusation we definitely had some issues to address here. I was beginning to entertain thoughts that I hardly imagined could be possible. That...that Walter was attracted to me. And now I had to know for sure...soon.
But his casual attitude about taking a leak in front of me got me ticked off. I mean if he did have the hots for me and was too afraid to admit it then why parade the merchandise around. I don't like a tease. It's arrogant. But then again maybe I was reading this all wrong. I had to tread carefully here. I decided on angry sarcasm as a good defense. He understood it. Expected it from old Spooky Mulder.
"Well, don't stand on ceremony, sir...feel free to piss all over me while your at it. I mean you've all ready..."
"Mulder, shut the hell up. I know what I did in there. Let it go," he replied sighing as he finished emptying his bladder.
"Sir, you almost killed..."
"Mulder - does the name Duane fucking Barry ring a bell?" he spat out at me as he shook off, readjusted his dick, zipped up and turned around. His face was like chiseled granite. Like the God damn headstone he'd been sitting on in the cemetery. He crossed to the sink to rinse his hands.
"Fine," I grated. I wasn't going to stand there and listen to him throw something like Duane Barry up at me. Fuck him. I was out of there, "Go to hell, sir. Just don't take me, or anyone else with you, all right." I turned to leave.
"Mulder..." the tone in his voice brought me up short. I heard apology coming. I decided to give him another chance.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Everything I did in there was uncalled for as well. I...fuck. I don't know what came over me." He wiped his hand on a paper towel and tossed it in the trash. Finally he left the sink and stood watching me. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and then brought it down to touch his bandaged arm.
"The arm's bothering you isn't it?" I asked quietly. I walked over to where he was standing, "Better let me check the bandage. It might have gotten jostled during...well you might have popped a stitch."
"Hell, that's all I need," he nodded, extending his arm towards me, "and yeah, the lidocaine is starting to wear off."
I took his forearm gently in my hands and peered at it closely. I turned it over. There wasn't any blood on the bandages. He'd gotten off lucky.
"Too bad Scully isn't here. She'd be able to really give this a good going over," I looked up into his eyes. Oh Jesus. I saw it then. The mixture of desire and fear. The wanting, and the need. Oh Lord. AD Walter S. Skinner was as queer as J. Edgar Hoover and just as in the closet. In the closet but not for long at this rate I thought. Hell no. He was more than interested in me. And he was scared shitless.
Remember I did tell you earlier that Walter doesn't realize anyone could be attracted to him a lot of the time? He can be as thick as a brick that way. Well...he was clearly salivating over yours truly and had no clue whatsoever that I wanted to jump his bones right there in the men's room. He was afraid to even open his mouth because he thought I was completely straight, and he was going to get it in the heart and the career for making a pass at one of his male subordinates. Oh brother. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Scully, jumped unbidden into my mind.
I saw him swallow hard. OK, this maybe wasn't the time or place. We'd be going back to the hotel eventually tonight. I'd give talking to him a shot then. Actually I was considering sending him back to the hotel ahead of me with his bottle of painkillers and instructions to go to bed. I figured I could get a squad or maybe Danvers or Washington to drive him back there. They were still hanging around behind the one way mirror. It would be the best idea. He was pretty much dead on his feet. It was going on 11 PM at this point and he'd been up nearly 48 hours straight if you counted the time before we left DC. What was I talking about - so had I. But I hadn't been knifed by a crazed serial killer who had then goaded me into having to deal with my sexual preference. No, Walter Skinner needed to give himself a little TLC. Or maybe someone needed to give him some. Well, we'd see about that idea after our little talk.
"Sir, listen. I think it would be a good idea if I rousted up a ride for you back to the Hyatt. You need to get some sleep. You can go back there, take a painkiller, and give this arm a rest."
He looked at me very carefully. I was still holding his arm. I released it and he took over cradling it in his right arm.
"Maybe that's not a bad idea Mulder. I...the pain..."
"Yeah. Uh, why don't you let me get Danvers or Washington to drive you there. I need to finish up a few things here and then I'll be along as well...we....we can talk about...we can talk then if you'd like." I replied, "That is if you're not zonked out on Darvon when I get there." OK, I thought, there's the offer. He can mull it over and we'll see what happens.
He chuckled just slightly over the remark and then his face softened a bit as well. Good. Maybe this was going to turn out to be all right.
"So, ready to face the world?" I asked, gesturing towards the men's room door.
"Not really, but I'm sure as hell ready to get out of this stinking men's room. The *big mints* in the urinals are making me gag. Lead on Agent Mulder."
"Did you fall for that one when you were a kid too?"
"Yeah. Not one of my fondest childhood memories," Walter laughed grimly as we headed back out the door.
Walter had gone back to the hotel, with Danvers driving. Twenty minutes later, John Lee Atherton, bruised larynx and all had given his confession. So we had our killer dead to rights. With any luck he'd be on his way to death row in record time.
He was hustled off to a cell in the bowels of the Baton Rouge house of correction and everyone began to clear out for bed or bar or whatever they needed to get four little dead girls and their sadistic killer out of their mind.
I don't usually drink. But boy I thought I could use a drink tonight. I was sitting in interrogation room number one making a few last minute notes in my little blue spiral bound notebook when said supplier of same stuck her head in the door.
"So, Mulder, how's it hanging?" Carmen Guitteraz asked.
I looked up and smiled. I knew I looked tired - bone weary. But nevertheless I was glad to see her, "Hey, Carmen Miranda, come on in."
"Oh, oh, is that my new nick, Spooky."
"Only if you like it. If you don't I can come up with something better - after I've had a good nights sleep."
"I hear you," she laughed coming into the room and shutting the door. I noticed the movement and looked from the closed door up into her face.
"Does this mean we're going to have that little talk now?" I asked her. God, I needed to talk to someone. Carmen seemed like a good, honest, compassionate woman. I knew she suspected what was going on in my head regarding Walter. I just needed someone as a sounding board. Scully wasn't here. I was hoping once again that Carmen would be as perceptive and understanding as my Scully. She had all ready proved to be almost as talented an investigator. I raised an eyebrow at her as she came closer.
"Actually, I don't think this is the best place to talk. Look, Mulder. If you're not too dead on your feet I...I'd like to buy you a drink. I know this place. Somewhere we can talk. Would you be up for it?"
"I'd be more than up for it. Sure. Let's go."
We drove to a district of the city that told me we weren't going to a yuppie, puppy, micro-brewery trendy bar. Nope. This was the warehouse district. Home of illegal raves in their day and home to...gay bars.
OK. So, what was up here, I thought as we pulled up near a large converted warehouse. The Neon sign outside said, "Rick's Place" There was a neon portrait of Humphrey Bogart
as he appeared in Casablanca right next to the Neon lettering. Carmen cut the engine in the Bu-Car and then she turned to me, her features bathed in the electric neon glow of old Bogie.
"Carmen, this doesn't look like *Hooters* here."
"Mulder, I told you my minor was in parapsychology didn't I?"
"Yeah. Are you trying to tell me this is a bar for psychics?"
"That you're a psychic?"
"No, but maybe I'm trying to tell you it takes one to know one."
Oh boy. I thought...oh...Gertrude *Gut Busting* Stein...
"Look, Mulder. I'm going to be honest with you, ok?" Carmen began.
"All right, shoot. Uh, I didn't mean that..." I smiled into her face. Of course I knew what she was going to say. Or at least I thought I did. A little spoon full of sugar would make the medicine go down a hell of a lot easier.
"Well, you'd better promise not to do the same, Fox, or I'm out of here."
"No, it's ok, go ahead. I'm listening."
"Fine. OK. Ted, my partner was gay. So am I for that matter. We...we used to come here as a couple. It's against bureau regs for partners to fraternize but hell - I'd rather them think I was fucking Ted then..."
"Think you were boffing Barbara?"
I chuckled, "So where are you going with this, Carmen?" I wasn't going to make it easy for her. I thought if she's on the level and this isn't some kind of weird fag hag thrill for her or worse yet a blackmail attempt my playing hard to get would bring her real intentions out in the open.
"Oh, come on, Mulder. I saw how you were looking at AD Skinner. Aren't you and he...I mean...just...what the hell was going on there...If you're not gay..."
"Carmen, you think I'm sleeping with my boss?"
"Mulder I don't know what I think. I figured you...shit I don't know...you were looking at him like you wanted to get in his pants or all ready were and then you kept talking about your partner like you were fucking married to her...Oh look, I'm sorry maybe this isn't any of my business. Mother Mary I probably shouldn't be telling you anything about me either," she finished miserably slapping her hand on the steering wheel.
"Carmen, it...it's ok, really. Listen. I know how it is when two people work together on a horrendous case like this one. They get close really fast. I...oh hell. I appreciate your honesty. I'm not gay...I guess I'd have to say I'm bisexual. I'm involved with my partner, Dana Scully, but I've had men before. I'm not sleeping with Walter Skinner though..." I let my voice trial off.
"No. I don't know what the hell is going on with Skinner."
"But you'd like to find out?" she smiled at me.
I sighed, "Yeah, I guess I would."
"Sweet Jesus, Mulder. You've got the balls of a brass monkey."
I laughed like hell then. The whole days stress came crashing down on me and then bubbled up and out with each whooping breath of laughter I took.
Carmen joined in the laughter. When we finally calmed down she spoke again more seriously.
"He's in the closet isn't he?"
"Well, aren't we all?"
"But not to ourselves. I mean he doesn't even admit it to himself does he?"
"Carmen, I don't know."
"Well do you want me to take you back to the hotel so you can find out?"
I looked at her for a minute. No. I didn't want to go back right away. I felt like I wanted that drink after all. I needed to get loose. I wanted to have some fun.
"Carmen, is this place really ok? I mean, I usually don't go to gay bars, especially in cities where my face and name have been plastered all over the news."
"Mulder, this isn't called Rick's Place for no reason. The owner's, as well as the clientele, are very discreet. You might be surprised at who you see in there."
"OK. I guess I could use that drink then, if you're buying and you don't mind the fact that I haven't shaved, and I'm wearing the same suit I've had on all day."
"I'll make do, Mulder. And yeah, I'm buying, come on."
We exited the car, locked it up tight and headed across the street and through the sliding warehouse doors into the sound and fury of Rick's Place.
The place was huge. A cavern. Loud house dance music. A dance floor packed with bodies. A mammoth bar to one side. An upstairs. Maybe more than one bar. It was like another planet. The planet Homoreotica. An H.R. Giger painting. *The Twilight Zone* and I felt like the usher. It certainly wasn't *Casablanca*. Oh no sir.
Carmen stopped me and yelled into my ear, "I know the owner. We can go to the back bar. It's behind sound proof, one way glass. You can see the dance floor, but no one can see you. We can talk back there."
"OK." I yelled back at her. She smiled into my eyes and reaching down took my hand. It was lucky she did. We would have been separated in the crush.
Before too long we had made it to the glass doors that divided the back bar from the dance floor. I was glad when we'd gotten out of the noise. My ears were ringing.
We took a seat at a comfortable table on plush chairs. A waiter appeared almost immediately. I ordered tequila and so did Carmen. After the waiter brought our drinks as well as the bottle of *Jose Cuervo* each of us picked up our shot glass, and clinked them together.
"To J. Edgar Hoover, long may he wave," Carmen laughed.
"Bless his cross-dressing little heart."
We both tossed back the shots and then slapped the glasses down on the table. I choked. It had been a while.
"So, Mulder. When did you first know you were a member of the church?" Carmen asked as I blinked through watery eyes.
I looked at her in confusion, "The church?" For a minute I thought she meant Divine Savior.
"Oh. Sorry, not that church," she replied. Maybe she was psychic I thought. She certainly had read my mind there.
"No I mean our church. When did you find out you liked boys?"
"About the same time I discovered I liked girls."
"You're not kidding about being bisexual are you?"
"No. I'm very much in love with Dana Scully, Carmen. I just...well, we're open about our relationship. She knows I like men. She wouldn't begrudge me having a male lover."
"Especially if it was Walter Skinner," she teased.
"I'm not so sure. She's sort of intimidated by him. He is the boss you know."
"No shit, Mulder. That guy has *Spank Me Daddy* written all over his bald head."
"You think he's a dom?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know Carmen. He...he seems so frightened. So unsure of his feelings. Like you said - he hasn't even admitted his sexual preference to himself. I doubt he knows what he wants much less whether he wants it top or bottom."
"Shit, Mulder, What are you going to do, teach him the ropes? Fox Mulder, cherry buster..."
"Don't you think I'm sensitive enough to handle a virgin?" I asked, laughing. Carmen poured us both a second shot. We both knocked them back again and set the glasses down.
She studied my face and then she giggled a little. The tequila clearly beginning to get to her. She blushed and then looked away from me and through the sound proof one way glass that divided the dance floor from the back bar.
"Sensitive? Mulder if I was inclined to swing the other way, I'd let you bust my cherry. You've more than got what it takes. Scully's a lucky woman. Walter's going to be a lucky man if he's smart enough to know it. But hell, if I were you I'd think first before you grab that tiger by the tail...I...OH MY GOD!"
"What?" I asked in complete bewilderment. I followed her startled eyes through the one way glass and mine joined hers in wide open incredulous amazement.
It's surprising what a pair of contacts, jeans, hiking boots, a black muscle shirt, and sports jacket can do for a man. Especially when that man was wearing a Versace suit, designer tie, glasses and maniac spat upon Allen Edmonds shoes the last time I saw him only an hour or so earlier. Can you say Clark Kent? See, I knew you could.
"Sweet, Jesus, what the mother puss bucket is he doing here?" Carmen cursed roundly.
"He must have lost his fucking mind!" I exclaimed. Holy Smoking coincidences too! How the hell could he even think about coming down here? Even with the contacts and clothes change. His stony mug had been plastered all over the tube a hell of a lot more than mine. Jesus wept.
Walter S. Skinner was standing, or leaning actually, against one of the large support pillars that ringed the dance floor. He had a glass of beer in hand and was staring out into the noisy, gyrating crowd. Just staring.
"You said this place was discreet..."
"So, isn't Rick's Place well known? I mean, maybe he does go out once in a while. If he does he probably knows the network. The safe bars in every city. Most older closeted gays do. Christ though - he's taking a terrible risk. I don't believe this." It was blowing my mind. Walter was taking a really dangerous chance that someone would recognize him. If someone did and chose to make trouble for him it really was all over.
"Well, yeah, but hell Mulder he was exhausted...you can still see the God damned bandage under his coat. He should be back at the hotel sleeping. But he's a big boy. We can't second guess his motives. You...you can't be his baby-sitter," Carmen replied touching my arm, "Mulder..."
"Yeah, yeah, OK. Maybe this is his way of dealing with things." I ventured quietly. I watched fascinated as Walter studied the crowd. He looked uncomfortable. Like maybe he didn't do this that often. Didn't frequent this kind of place very much at all.
But God, did he ever look good. I thought he looked incredibly handsome but so tense and forbidding that if he was looking for action he was going to be sadly in for a disappointment. The expression on his face said, *Hi my name is Walter and I'd just as soon kill you as kiss you big boy*. Nope. Old Walt was going to be avoided like the plague tonight. No boy in his right mind was going to try taking that on. Except for maybe Fox Mulder. I toyed with the idea.
"Are you going to go out there?" Carmen asked suddenly.
"Do you think I should?"
"You want the truth?"
I turned and focused on her. The truth. That was rich. Fuckin' A I wanted the truth. Then, now and always.
"Yes, give it to me straight. Ouch - bad pun, sorry."
Carmen almost choked on her laughter. When she was finally able to catch her breath she got serious again, "Truth - no I don't think you should. I think he's here on a whim. I just have a gut feeling. Maybe he does this in DC - I mean why the contacts if he doesn't want to look different? But, I think he's really confused Mulder. If you go out there now it's going to, pardon the expression, queer the whole deal. I'd go back to the hotel and wait for him. Then I'd try to...well I'd try to be a friend, Mulder. He needs help."
I looked in Carmen's eyes. I was really glad I'd trusted her, came here with her tonight. She was a hell of a woman. She was going to make some other woman very lucky some day. She was right of course. If I went out there and confronted Walter what the hell would I say? *Hi there sailor boy, come here often. Fuck. Sorry, sir, forgot you were a Marine*. Oh Sure. He was armed. He's probably pull out his fucking Glock and shoot me in the nuts. No, I should go back to the hotel and wait for him. We could have our own moment of truth there. Yeah, the truth was out there and Walter was going to have to face it sooner or later. I just hoped he would trust me as a friend and let me help him out of the closet. God. I would be hanging my shingle out one of these days. Maybe Karen Kosseff, the Bureau shrink, would lend me office space.
I watched as Walter continued to watch the crowd. A guy did make his way over to where Walter was leaning against the pillar. A tall, thin, but well muscled, brown haired guy in Tommy Hilfiger jeans and a tight white t-shirt sidled up to him and leaned in close. Oh oh. That fucker was trouble I thought. He looked enough like Alex to make all my warning bells go off. Don't go there Walter I thought. Danger, Danger Will Robinson.
Walter inclined his head to listen to what the guy was saying. The Alex clone gestured to Walter's half empty glass. He laid a hand on Walter's forearm. The unbandaged one luckily.
Walter looked the guy up and down, appraising, weighing, judging. The guy removed his arm and took a little step back. Walter shook his head in the negative and took a sip of his beer. The guy shrugged, and smiling walked off. I released my breath carefully. OK. I could see he really wasn't looking for company maybe? At least not that kind of company. Maybe he *was* just testing the waters. At any rate, I hoped he left soon. I was going to go. Carmen could take me back to the hotel now.
As I came to that decision Walter Skinner's gaze drifted over to the one way mirror at the back of the dance floor. His eyes caught mine through the glass. I knew he couldn't see me but his eyes trapped me like that hawk trapping the rabbit again. Or maybe an eagle - yeah - a fucking bald eagle. American icon. God damn. I trembled under that gaze. Lord help me I wanted to see him look at me like that and then mean it - to have him look and see his eyes glaze over with passion. I really wanted him. My hands were shaking.
"I think I would like to go back to the hotel now."
"Hey, no problem. This bus is ready to leave too." Carmen agreed pulling money out of her pocket as she rose out of her chair.
The hotel room was a little stuffy so I cranked up the AC. Carmen had come up for a couple of minutes after we got back to the Hyatt. I'd gotten her a Diet Coke from the little fridge in the room. She was drinking it and looking out the window at the city. We were on the 22nd floor. It was a king sized Hyatt all right.
"Mulder I really want to thank you for all your help on this case. I know tomorrow is going to be difficult. The two of you can't avoid the press forever. But I think they're going to treat you all like heroes. Hell you deserve it. But at least it will be over soon. You did say you were going to fly out the day after tomorrow."
"Thanks Carmen. I guess we will get lucky with the press. And yeah, it is almost over," I told her quietly. Tomorrow I thought. Shit I was more worried about tonight when Walter got back a hell of a lot more then the press jackals tomorrow.
"Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you tomorrow. You left your lap top down at Bureau headquarters you know."
"Yeah, but I locked it up in that filing cabinet."
"Right, I'll make sure it's ok in the morning. Just in case you...sleep in...and don't get down there early," she gave me a little grin.
"Oh Brother. Yeah, well I'm not sure getting lucky tonight is going to be that lucky. Shit. Hey, listen Carmen, thanks for everything. I'm sorry about your partner. I hope...I mean..."
"Hey, Mulder. Don't sweat it. I'm doing ok. And as for the *partner* idea? I'm working on both ends of it," she smiled wide, and then she tossed back the rest of her Coke, "See you tomorrow, Agent Spooky. It's been tits."
I laughed as she tossed the Coke can into the trash basket near the door.
"Later, Carmen. Tomorrow."
She waved at me over her shoulder, opened the door to the room and was gone.
Shortly after Carmen left I found the note from Walter tacked up in my can over the toilet. How appropriate. At least this can didn't have the big mint.
I couldn't sleep. I needed to get out, get some air and think. I didn't take the pain pills. I need my head clear. The pain will help me to stay clear. Help me to think too. I'm sorry for everything that happened tonight. Please accept my sincere apologies. Don't wait up. Get some sleep. You earned it, agent.
Fuck. Well at least he left me the note. Well, he had his cell phone, his ID, badge and Glock. Who would fuck with him anyway. Would you? Seriously? And of course as Carmen said he was a big boy. He didn't need a baby-sitter, a Mommy or a Daddy either for that matter. But he did need a friend.
I was going to try to wait up for Walter no matter what he suggested in the note. I decided to clean up a little. I used the can and then went back and stood in front of the mirror fronted closet to strip and hang up my clothes. I went back in the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Man, I looked like shit. Sweaty, having more of a bad hair day then usual, grimy, bloody. Oh Mama! It was lucky it had been dark in that bar. Carmen would have been embarrassed if people had gotten a really good look at her *date*.
I decided to take a shower before I crawled in between the clean Hyatt Regency bed sheets. I walked over to the shower and turned the water on. I adjusted it so it gushed out nice and hot and climbed inside the stall with my little bottle of shower gel, and stepped under the spray. I laughed. Scully. She loved these shower gels. This one was supposed to smell like musk or something. Male musk. Yikes. Well it did smell good as I lathered up. Scully liked this aroma on me. I thought - hmmmm. Hoped Walter liked musk. Oh hell. No use getting my hopes up. Or my cock either for that matter. He'd probably take a cab back, drunk as a skunk, and collapse next door in bed, snoring.
Well, I'd wait anyway just in case. I rubbed some of the gel into my scalp since I hadn't bothered to get the shampoo out of my shaving kit. I could hear Scully on that one too, "Mulder, shower gel is not good for your hair. You'll dry it out." She's a hoot, I'll tell you.
I got done with the shower, turned off the faucets and climbed out. A nice, big, fluffy Hyatt towel went around my hips and I used another to towel my hair. There were two more on the bar in the can. One of those was going in the garment bag - oh yeah! Hey, no snide comments ok? I collect them.
I went back into the other room. The damp towels went over a chair back. I fished a clean pair of boxers out of my garment bag and pulled them on. I decided to watch some TV. I snagged the remote off the top of the really excellent 32 inch TV the Hyatt had so considerately supplied to this *vidiot* and dove onto the bed. The TV came on quickly after I flipped the power. Ah, an on-line guide. Great! The SciFi Channel? MST3K, the movie? Oh Yeah, baby. I was all set. I settled back, plumping up the bed pillows. I decided to turn off the lights in the room as well. I got up and made the rounds. It took a couple of seconds and I returned to the bed and the approximation of a dark movie theater a la Fox Mulder. Now all I needed was my little bed buddy - Wally. I settled back to wait...I don't remember shutting my eyes at all.
Sam. Oh God Samantha. I knew I was having *The Dream* again. The one I had when I least wanted it. Always. I really shouldn't have been surprised though. After the fucking case in Baton Rouge and all the stress...well I did tell you I went a little crazy on these consults. One of the other things that happens on them is *The Dream*. The fucking Samantha floating through the window kidnapped by God knows what Nightmare...she's yelling. Terrified. Bright blinding light. I can't move. Can't reach her. On my knees. She's yelling - Fox! I'm scared...Help me! Help me! Help meeeee!
"SAMANTHA!!!!!" I woke up screaming, thrashing, screaming. Hard wall of muscle, warm, arms enfolding, comforting....Dad...?
"Mulder, it...it's ok. Wake up. It's me....Uh...AD Skin...Uh... Walter. Come on. Shit. Wake up, you're having a nightmare..."
Confusion. I'm confused. The room is pitch black. The TV? Off now? Who? What the hell?
"Whaaat?" I managed to croak out.
"It's ok...Fox. You're ok, guy. It was a nightmare."
I knew it was Walter by that point of course. How the hell did he get in here - Oh yeah, connecting door. Over here in the dark? - right - TV had been on. I was trying to think. To process data. But I was still dazed, disorientated. I always am after one of these dreams. When I'm with Scully and have one, I cling to her and she holds me close. She cradles my head against her tits. They're so nice and soft. Warm. She rocks me. I love it when she rocks me.
Walter...Walter could rock me too. Hard, wide chest instead of soft cushiony...but warm, and sort of soft too really. Chest hair, and the smell of Old Spice...
"Hold me...please..just..." I was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"I'm holding you buddy. Don't...it's going to be all right."
And then he did rock me. He pulled me up a little further into his strong embrace, and in the pitch black room he began to rock me in his arms.
My head was tucked in under his chin and his hands made gentle, lazy circles on my back. We sat like that for a while. Walter rubbing, and me stuck to his chest like glue, eyes shut as I trembled against him. Finally I started to come back to myself, and the shaking slowed, and then stopped.
Walter continued to run his hands up and down my back. It was a comforting touch and then suddenly it wasn't just comforting any longer. It was...Walter began to caress my back, stroking, touching me like a lover. He ran his hands down my spine and onto my ass. My mind jumped to instant alertness then. Oh oh I thought. Maybe it's time we had our little talk now. I touched his arm. Felt the stitches. He'd taken the bandage off.
He stiffened immediately under my touch, pulled back and released me.
I couldn't see his face very well in the dark even though my eyes had adjusted somewhat. But I heard his sharp intake of breath.
"I'd better go..." he mumbled, "you're ok now. I'll leave." He got up off the bed and turning, headed back for the connecting door. I could make out his white BVDs hugging that gorgeous rock hard ass as his legs carried him away.
Oh fucking hell. What could I do to...I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind. Something that I thought would get his attention...get him to come back to me.
"Walter, I saw you in the bar tonight." Bingo. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Even in the dark I could see every muscle in his body tense. Talk about your flight or fight response. Oh shit. Fight? Lord God, I hoped not. He'd kill me.
"Mulder..." the note of betrayal, of pain, of absolute self-doubt, self-loathing in his voice on uttering my name was horrible to hear.
I got up off the bed very slowly, and approached him from behind. I touched his shoulder and gently turned him. His face was open. Unguarded. He probably, maybe, thought I couldn't see his face or his eyes in the dark. But I could, even behind his specs. His sad, frightened, eyes. Frightened but full of arousal. Filled with arousal and with his unshed tears. And then the tears fell. They trickled down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered.
"Walter, there's nothing to be sorry about," I whispered in return. I moved close and reaching up, thumbed the tears from his face.
He took in a shaky breath and let it out. He was going to say something else but I put a finger to his lips...
"Shhhh, it's all right."
"Mulder, we have to talk about this..." he rumbled around my finger. The vibration tickled my fingertip.
"Do you really want to talk now?" I asked looking into his eyes. There was relief there suddenly. Relief as he began to realize what I was saying, doing. What it meant.
"No, I guess...no," he replied, swallowing.
I smiled and bending forward, pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. His entire body sagged against me. I think he went weak in the knees. Holy Christ. I hoped he wasn't going to keel over like a felled tree. He was heavy. I entwined my arms around his body to hold him upright. He made some kind of groan or moan in his throat. I moved my hands up to either side of his head and gripped him to deepen the kiss. It hadn't even occurred to him to open his mouth. I think he was in shock.
I stroked his lips with the tip of my tongue and oh yeah, he opened his mouth then. All cylinders were firing at once, baby. He sucked me in and we were sucking face big time. Oh Jesus. He tasted good. Like, like...Crest toothpaste. Cool, and fresh but Oh God, Hot. Molten hot.
"Mulder..." he moaned my name. Damn. I broke the kiss and pushed him back just a little.
"Mulder?" This time it was a question. I thought well, maybe we had better talk about this a little. I was loathe to break the magic moment here but Walter isn't the most verbal man. Communicative I mean. Fuck, that's obvious isn't it? If he had wanted to talk it must have been a sign that he really needed to do it. I studied his face. Yeah, he wanted to discuss things. OK. I'd give it a shot.
I smiled into his eyes, "Are you all right?"
"What happened to Mulder..." I chuckled.
"Son of a bitch, Mulder, come on..."
"All right, all right. I'm sorry. You wanna talk about this after all, don't you?"
He sighed and I let go of his body and stepped back to give him some space. I kept hold of one of his hands though. I figured he wouldn't bolt and run if I had him in a death grip.
"Yeah. I need...this is..."
"Hard?" I couldn't help it I guffawed really loud. To my surprise so did he. It was a nice deep bass belly laugh. His laughing ceased rather quickly however and we stood staring at each other like a couple at a junior high mixer.
"Can I get you a Coke or something?" I asked finally. I wanted to get his mind on something other then his cock which was bulging against the front of his tightie whities. He was doing his best to ignore the evidence of his arousal. I had to laugh. Walter was as close as he would ever get to fulfilling his fondest wish and he was trying to divorce himself from that Washington Monument he had between his legs.
"No, I'm fine," he replied.
Say what? I thought. Oh yeah, right.
"Well, come on back over and sit down. We can talk. Talk about whatever you want to talk
about," I told him.
I let go of his hand then. I wanted him to make the decision to join me on the bed. To give him back some control. I walked back over and climbed up onto the bedspread. Lucky it's a King I thought. Room enough for me and the big guy. Big? Holy Christ I wanted to get those briefs off him so I could see just how big. Oh yes.
I sat facing him. He sauntered over. Walter doesn't walk exactly. He's very graceful for a large, muscular man. He glides - I don't know. He's sort of got that John Wayne walk thing going sometimes. Prowling too. Like a big fucking leopard. He looked like a leopard coming for me in the dark.
I patted the bed next to me and he levered himself up and sat across from me Indian Style.
"So, how about those *big mints* in the urinal?" I asked smirking.
"Hell, Mulder. Can't you ever be serious. This is my fucking life on the line here. My God damn career," he groaned.
"And what is it for me?" I asked.
He looked up at me. Gee Walter, see, I thought. Like Scully would say - the lesson I had at last learned fairly well - this isn't always about you. In this case it would eventually be about all of us.
"I always thought you were with Scully."
There it was. Oh for crying out loud.
"And how long did you keep your mouth shut because you thought I was with Scully?" I asked him quietly. We would discuss Scully and me later. Right now this was about Fox Mulder and Walter Skinner. I touched his knee lightly but drew my hand back when he flinched a bit.
"Since practically the first day you walked in my office. But how the hell could I say anything? Did you? Come on, Mulder you know how the bureau views gays..."
"In about as good a light as they view fraternizing between hetero partners."
"Yeah, well fuck that too. I mean it didn't interfere - your solve rate - Scully...I...Dana Scully's a fine woman, Mulder. I respect her like hell. She's a crack agent too - no question. You two are a team, what the word partners exemplifies. A complimentary blend. I wasn't about to come between...I mean the relationship, the idea that the two of you were probably a couple too wasn't an issue. I didn't give a shit about regs there. I mean fuck, how could I? But like I said, I didn't want to - horn in." He let it all out in a rush and I just let the words fall between us.
I winced. Jesus H. Christ. He'd been wanting me for that long. Wanted me and never mentioned it out of a combination of respect for Scully, our partnership, and fear? God, he'd covered it so well. He'd covered everything very well. If nothing else Walter S. Skinner was a testament to FBI undercover training. No kidding. He'd gone to such lengths to hide it all so well he'd been married in fact.
"I take it Sharon was..."
"Sharon was a good friend Mulder. I married her thinking - well you know, thinking it would change things. It didn't. I tried to give her what she wanted but it didn't work out. She deserved a husband, not just a...a friend. When she asked for the divorce..." he gestured with his hand, palm up. I took his hand and drew it to my lips. I kissed his palm.
He watched me do it, fascinated as I nuzzled his lifeline.
"How long?" he asked.
"How long?" I replied letting him take his hand back.
"How...since you knew?" he asked.
"That I liked boys?"
"I was a late bloomer I guess. Vietnam. I..."
"You had a lover in Nam?"
"Lover? Oh, no. I lusted after this guy. It was the first time I entertained the thought that I might be gay. But...shit. Marines don't...well you just didn't, didn't even let on that you felt anything like that for a buddy."
"Walter are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?"
"A virgin!? Fuck no. I've been married for Christ's..."
"I mean with men, Walter," I grinned in the dark. Thick right? Well, it was kind of cute.
I grinned again. Oh brother. Looks like Carmen was right. Fox Mulder cherry buster. Holy Ghost. Who would have thunk it? I was trying really hard not to laugh. It wouldn't do poor Walter's ego any good to have me feeling like David about to put it to Goliath here. When it came right down to it I was only marginally more experienced. A grand total of two lovers to Walter's zip. But at least I knew where the parts fit. This might be kind of fun I thought. A sweet erotic adventure for us both if I could get Walter to go along. Oh yeah - I probably could. He was half way there all ready I realized sneaking a glance down. Whoa.
"Well, Walter, we all have to start somewhere. Look. If it's any consolation I've lusted after you, as you so succinctly put it, since the day you had to restrain me in the hallway outside your office. When I took a swing at you - those strong arms of yours around me in that hammer lock. Jesus. If I hadn't been drugged to the gills I would have cum right in my pants."
He was staring goggle eyed at me then. His mouth was hanging open.
"Don't you think anyone could ever lust for you Walter? Well, I do. Didn't you realize how I felt that day you threw yourself on top of me when I tried to shoot that telemarketing manager...didn't you feel my hard cock pressing against yours. I felt yours big guy... I wanted that hard...
"Mulder. Christ!" Walter looked away and down at his hands.
I was getting just a little annoyed at this *Blushing Betty* routine.
"Walter, look at me."
He raised his eyes and I touched his chin drawing his head up further. When he met my eyes I moved my hand to touch the side of his face.
"Walter, don't ever be embarrassed about what you want. I'm offering. I'm telling you I feel the same way about you. I want you. I'd like to explore this thing. Maybe have a relationship with you. Can I make myself any more clear here?"
"Clear? No. But, I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm just not used to hearing this from anyone that I...that I've thought I might...might be in love with, OK. This is killing me here. I feel like I wanna puke."
"Oh, that's romantic," I laughed harshly, removing my hand.
"Come, on you know what I mean. I mean look at you. You're a fucking GQ model Mulder. Young. Good looking. Shit - you've got all your fucking hair for Christ sake. You're a God Damn genius. A nutcase, but preternaturally intelligent. And yeah, a friggin' wonder in the field - you more than just got done proving what a good field agent you really are. I mean what could you possibly see in me? You could have anyone you wanted - anyone."
Jesus I thought. Could he really think so little of himself? All these years I thought he was so in control. Tough. In command. The Boss. This was something of a shock - this vulnerability. He had covered it so well. Closeted this as well as he had closeted being gay. I couldn't let him get away with thinking he was a loser. He was anything but. He had to be made to realize it.
"For God's sake, Walter. How can you think I wouldn't want you. You're a fantastically desirable man. Handsome. Hard. I mean shit, look at *you*. How many days do you spend in the gym making yourself into a Greek statue? Do you realize how you look? Like Rodin's thinker. Bronze. Like metal. Damn it I don't know how you can think you're not attractive.
And what's more - you project authority. Power. Scully and I both quake in our shoes every time we have to come up to your office. I spend three quarters of my time figuring out how to circumvent you, get over on you - I mean you're too sharp most of the time for us to get away with anything. The other quarter of my time I fantasize about you. What it would be like to touch you, to get past that hard outer shell you project and inside to the inner you. Into your heart and mind, Walter.
"Mulder, I'm getting your point, all right. Buddy - you talk too much."
He was smiling now. Starting to laugh a little. I could tell I had flattered him. I shifted over and moved to sit next to him instead of directly in front. I ran my hand over his scalp. He smiled wider. God, he had a gorgeous smile. I wanted to see him smile like that all the time.
"And as far as having hair...I think hair is highly overrated under certain circumstances. I shifted right up next to him then and began to follow my hand with my lips. I traced kisses on his scalp and then onto his face and across to his mouth. He smiled as I kissed the corner of his lips. I moved back and he turned his head to trap my eyes. I breathed in, out, in, out. The hawk. The hawk. I was the hawk.
"Walter, I want to make love with you. Not just fuck. I mean make love. So whadda ya say?"
I held my breath. This was the moment of truth. Cherry bustin' make it or break it time for sure.
He brought his hand up and touched my face, taking the whole side of my face in one large hand. He leaned forward and captured my mouth. Oh God Jesus. I was a goner, and so was he, and who the fuck, gave a flying fuck, I...I...
He was kissing me but his hand was shaking where it held my jaw. The poor guy was still scared to death. Nervous. Well, I was just a bit nervous too. I decided to do something that would be a little more mundane. Familiar. As soon as Walter pulled back for air I spoke.
"Are you nervous?"
"Gee, Mulder is it that obvious?" he gave his gruff laugh.
"Yeah, well...I'm a little nervous too. Why...why don't we start out here with something a little less...why don't I give you a rub down? Would you like that? I give a pretty good massage?"
"I all ready got that idea...Mulder."
"I guess you did," I smirked. "And look, does it bother you to call me Mulder?"
"Scully calls you Mulder. I assumed you preferred it."
"I do, actually."
"Then I don't mind."
I smiled. I'm glad he didn't want to call me Fox. My father...well I won't go there.
"Do you mind me calling you Walter?"
"Not in the bedroom."
I smiled again. OK there were going to be some boundaries. That was fine. He needed the room. And after all he was the boss - in the office.
"Ok, Walt, lie down on your stomach."
He raised an eyebrow, "Walt?"
"Would your prefer, Sir?" I replied, laughing.
He barked his laugh, "Please don't call me sir. Jesus I don't need to hear that right now. Walt, Walter, whatever. But I'd prefer Walter, really." He did as I instructed however as I scooted out of the way. He was flat on his stomach with his arms loose at his sides. He'd pulled a pillow up under his head and neck so his glasses wouldn't be knocked askew. I shifted up and straddled his hips. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Walter, is this ok? Comfortable?"
"Oh yeah. Great. Just watch the arm," he advised raising his left.
"Shit, I'm glad you mentioned it. Thanks." I really had forgotten about the knife wound. We'd have to be a little careful with that arm.
"Does the arm hurt?"
"Not anymore. I took a Darvon."
"Darvon? Walter, are you stoned?"
"Mulder, get a life. How many Darvons do you think it would take to get me high? It just took the edge off the pain."
"I see your point," I said as I began to rub the wide, hard muscles of his upper back. Oh Lord. He was...magnificent really. Like I said - how the hell he thought no one could desire this...this beautiful body. The mind boggles.
I kept my mouth shut for a while. I just reveled in massaging his body. I was finally getting a chance to touch Walter's naked skin and it took my breath away. All the rough parts, and the soft parts. Everything over and under his skin too. The fine hairs on his arms and legs. The hard knobs of his neck vertebrae and spine. His elbow and wrist bones. The tiny freckles just above the waistband of his briefs. The sculpted perfection of it all.
I worked all the tight spots I could find. And there were quite a lot of them. I used my body leverage to really knead the stiffness out of every sinew. I moved from his neck down his shoulders, upper back, lower back, down onto his ass and all the way down both legs. When I got to his feet I did those too. I found out he wasn't ticklish at all. Figures. I am. I wasn't going to let him know it though. When I got down to his feet I moved back up and started over on his neck again. All those corded muscles were loosening and he was breathing regularly and peacefully.
He was getting nice and relaxed. I kept my touch impersonal as I repeated the total body massage. It was rather like gentling a horse I thought. Like taming a fabulous stallion. A mustang stud. Just call me the Horse Whisperer. Yes ma'am. I was heading up for my third go around when I suddenly wondered if he was asleep. He was very quiet. Still.
I leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. He chuckled.
"Just checking to see if you were awake.
"I'm awake," he mumbled into the pillow.
"Awake enough to turn over?"
I felt him shift under me.
"Yeah," he whispered.
I shifted off him so he could turn over. He did it slowly. His body really was relaxed. Loose. The massage had worked a miracle really. His face was a lot less nervous as well. He looked beautiful even in the darkness. My eyes had adjusted and the room didn't seem nearly as dark anyway. I thought distantly - Could it be near dawn? I had no idea. I didn't care. I shifted back up and straddled Walter's hips again just in back of his erection. And he was erect. Achingly so. His cock was straining against his now extra tight BVDs.
I wanted to rip his briefs off and eat him alive. But I didn't. Instead I let my hands trace over the front of his body. Teasing his nipples, his chest hair, his ribs, his belly button. His breath picked up slightly. I touched the spot over his heart and then I began to trace his other obvious features. His scars.
"It's a fucking road map isn't it?" he growled as I ran my fingers down into the wound that Luis Cardinal had given him years ago.
"Life's road map, I guess," I smiled into his glasses. His brow furrowed in thought. I bent forward and kissed where my hands had traced. His hard cock pressed into my stomach. It felt hot, good. Walter sighed and ruffled my hair. I reached the waistband of his briefs and moved back up. I'd seen the tip of a large white scar peaking out of the top. He knew I'd seen it too. I stroked his chest and stomach.
"I told you I was wounded in Nam..." he began.
"It's ok, don't worry about it," I whispered. Shit. I had so many scars, including one courtesy of Agent Dana K. Scully, I'd lost count. Who cares really. Walter's scars were earned in battle. In two covert wars really. One then and one now. One for Scully and one for me.
He was gazing up into my eyes and then he glanced down. So did I. I saw his cock twitch. I looked up and grinned again.
"Walter, I...I'd better get these off you. You look a little...uncomfortable."
He looked up into my face and swallowed hard. He glanced down at his pecker again, and then down farther. Well, here you go, Walter, I thought. Like it? I was as hard as a rock and I'd sort of...well, I'd liberated Mr. Johnson from the confines of my boxers while Walter was rolling over. I mean I'd stripped 'em, Aunt Nancy. So my willie was waving in the wind.
"Like it?" I thought what the hell - never hurts to ask.
"Yeah," he smiled shyly. Oh hell. I could hardly stand it. This guy was like a great big teddy bear, Winnie the Pooh, going for the honey jar. Yes sir. Oh God. I loved it.
I hooked the waistband of his briefs and started to pull. He helped me by wriggling around until I got the underwear off. I shifted back up and - Oh Brother.
I was staring at what may have been the most stupendous cock I had ever seen in my entire sex starved life. And that includes the God damn stunt cocks in every one of the fuck tapes in my collection. Scar? What scar. Who gives a shit about your war wound Walter.
His cock was huge and I mean...thick, and... bobbing to beat the band...and oh well, let's just say it was a mouth full. And I was going to find out just how much of a mouth full in a minute.
"Walter, I gotta tell you..."
"Please don't. My ego can't take anymore Mulder," he laughed.
"Well, I was just going to say, I won't have any trouble finding this thing in the dark," I replied. And then I went down on him.
"Jesus, God," he cried out, arching his hips up to thrust into my mouth.
Now, one thing I know how to do is give good head. Ask Scully and if you can find that fucking rat's ass Alex Krycek, ask him. Man or Woman - it's a fact, Jack. I say it with pride and no exaggeration - I'm a master.
So when Walter yelled "Jesus God" it wasn't because he's religious, all right? But he was about to have a religious experience - to be transported to cocksucking heaven - as I took him in all the way up to the root. As soon as I had him in, I delivered my next surprise. I bore down and sucked him like a fucking Hoover vacuum cleaner.
It was no easy job deep throating him that fast. But I knew he'd want it, and love it, and I wanted to give him what I knew he'd enjoy. I'm very oral anyway and I have practically no gag reflex. That's part of the secret really. So, I was able to take him in almost right up to his balls every time he thrust forward. Which was lucky because as a virgin he didn't know he shouldn't gag his partner. He would have been choking me to death quite successfully if I was a less talented individual.
"Oh Oh, Oh..." he was moaning low in his throat. I gave him even more of my specialized attention. He was writhing under me, grasping my hair as I started to move up and down on his cock. I almost let him go for a moment, rimming him with my lips, tongue and teeth and then sucked him all the way back down again with a satisfyingly wet slurp.
By this point, Walter was pretty much gone. His hips had gone on automatic and so had his vocabulary. I had reduced the AD to grunts and an occasional *Christ* and *Oh Fuck*. I looked up into his face and it was transformed into the second most beautiful fuck face I had ever seen. Scully's is the most beautiful. An angel really. But if she was an angel, Walter was a God. Bacchus, the Roman God of lust or maybe Mars, the God of war. He was a sight to behold - eyes shut, mouth gasping, neck cording as his entire body convulsed upwards. I felt him start to tense tight. He'd been leaking pre-cum so I knew this was pretty much going to be it.
A guttural roar built up in his chest and throat and exploded out of his open mouth as he came. His warm cum erupted out of his cock and shot down my throat. It seemed like it kept coming forever as he bucked, and bucked, and thrust into me again, and again. Jesus, I thought as the milky fluid back flowed out of my mouth and down over my chin. This guy's like a geyser, like fucking Old Faithful.
Finally he seemed to be empty and his thrusts started to slow. He collapsed back down onto the mattress, flat, gasping like a great white shark out of water. I let go of his dick and shifted up next to him. He weakly stretched his hand up and wiped his cum from my face. He shook his head in amazement. There was a wide grin on his face. I wiped my face on the pillow next to my head and then I nuzzled his neck. He had lowered his arm again and was gasping hard.
"I wanted to give you that, Walter."
"Yeah...God, s'good." He struggled to get his breath back. I let him grow more calm. I watched his chest move up and down, up and down until it was back to a reasonable approximation of normal. Then I started to stroke his neck. I propped myself up on one elbow and chuckled. He still had his glasses on. I'd done him in his specs.
"What?" he asked smiling.
I reached up and removed his glasses.
"We'd better lose these now. Can you see well enough?"
"It's dark in here, Mulder."
I laughed. I guess it didn't matter. I reached over him and put the glasses on the night stand. While I was leaning over he reached up and snagged one of my nipples in his teeth.
"Hey..." I yelped in surprise. He let go and I shifted back to see his face. He looked worried, like he thought he'd displeased me. Shit.
"No, it...it's ok, I liked it." I touched his face. He didn't have a clue I realized. I mean didn't the guy read? Rent a video or anything? Jesus. Why didn't it surprise me? He was in the office practically 24/7. I don't think he had time to watch the nightly news much less some gay porn video. No. Walter was a workaholic. Just like Scully and just like me. Also he'd been in deep denial about his sexuality. I didn't suppose learning how to make love to his favorite fantasy man was high on his list of priorities. O-K. So, we could start from ground zero I guess. Time to go back to school, Walter.
"Would you like to touch me too?" I asked quietly.
"It had crossed my mind," he mumbled. I bet he was blushing I thought. I bet he's glad it's dark.
"I'd like that, Walter, really," I smiled wide and touched his lips with a fingertip. He captured my hand and kissed my palm. He has great lips. They may look hard but they're not at all. They're quite sensual. Especially when they're swollen from passionate kisses.
I let him push me back and then over. He levered up and lay beside me. He held my hand, looking at it, turning it over as if he'd never seen it before.
"You have beautiful hands, Mulder. Elegant. Your fingers remind me of a pianists."
"Walter, your hands are great too. Large. Warm. When you were rubbing my back...before...I really liked it. It was comforting."
"Sharon liked my hands too," he replied in that dreamy voice I heard him use in Matthews office in what seemed like years ago now, "I always thought they were rough, callused clumsy."
My heart flipped in my chest. He sounded so - I don't know - just - I think someone must have told him he was worthless at some point in his life. Walter Skinner puts up a good confident front but...God.
"Walter. I'd like to feel your hands," I whispered. He let go of my hand at last and he finally began to touch me. I felt like flames ignited on my skin with each stroke of his fingertips.
He was tentative, unsure. Just the sweetness of his self conscious hesitancy was extremely erotic. It got me as hot as hell. Jesus his hands were warm and if they were callused it only served to chaff my skin in the most exquisite way possible.
He wasn't bad in his technique as it turned out. He followed his hands with his mouth as I had done, licking and sucking over the entire length of my body. I could tell he was comparing, contrasting, touching to see where I was different. He worked his way down to my feet and then back up again. He was driving me almost to distraction with his lips. I noticed he avoided my cock. I think he was still a little afraid - bashful? I wasn't sure. I was willing to let him go at his own pace and wait however. I murmured words of encouragement to him. Told him at one point that if it was something he had enjoyed I would more than likely enjoy it too. I stroked his head when he moved back up to tongue my nipples. He'd caught on fast that mine were very sensitive. I loved his tongue. God he really had potential as a first class artist there.
He had me wriggling a little and we started to laugh together again. He was starting to realize it was fun and when he did it made me very glad.
He discovered my bullet wound.
"OK, I have to ask...." he grinned.
"Right, of course. Jesus, you were lucky she was a good shot."
He kissed the scar and then shifted over to press his entire body length to mine. Head to toe. OH God it felt so good.
"I'm not crushing you am I?" he whispered somewhat breathless. I could hardly breath too but it wasn't because he was crushing me. I was so aroused I knew if I didn't concentrate really hard I was going to come all over his thigh.
"No, I'm fine. You feel really good Walter. He looked down into my face. He was supporting some of his weight on his forearms. He ran his hands through my hair. I arched up into his hips and ground my cock against his. He was partly erect again all ready. His eyes slipped shut as he savored me rubbing myself against him.
"Christ you're so ggggood," he stuttered as I pumped into him.
"You're hard, Walter. Get it up for me." I grated into his ear. He moaned.
"I...I can't believe again...so soon," he hissed between clenched teeth, "Oh fuck, God..."
So, at his age I guess he wasn't used to two hard ons in a little over what - an hour? I smiled wide. Yeah, well, he could do it for me that's for sure. And God it felt like it was gonna be bigger than the last one if that was possible.
He was obviously enjoying grinding against me. He dove for my mouth again and our tongues imitated what our cocks were doing between us.
We wrestled around a little then too. Just for the hell of it. Our legs were entwined - arms too. It was heady, rough, wonderful. We came to rest facing each other kissing again until I thought I was drowning. All this time I had been holding back. Keeping it up for him. And Lord God it was not an easy job let me tell you folks.
But I wanted to let him have it all now in a very particular way. I was going to see if I could get him to do the last thing I wanted. The final act that I really desired the most but was almost afraid to ask for. I mean, Christ this was Walter Skinner - uh...well, not the Walter Skinner I'd worked for almost five years, this Walter was a hell of a lot more vulnerable on the inside at least. Inside? Oh Jesus. Still...I needed...I...I was just thinking of asking the question when Walter sort of distracted me.
He finally got up the nerve to stroke me. He had his hand on my shaft, just gently fondling me. I knew he was working up to really cranking me, God bless him. He wanted to give me what I had given him now. But I had something slightly different in mind. I snuggled in close as he continued to trace his fingers over my cock and balls as well. I whispered into his ear.
"Walter do you wanna make me cum?"
"I wanna make you shoot to the moon."
"I wanna explode like a stick of dynamite for you."
"Yeah...I'd like that too," he hissed. He started to grip my cock all the way round with one strong hand. I reached down and maneuvered the hand off me.
"But not this way," I told him as I licked around his ear. I pulled back then and looked into his face. His brow was creasing again. I moved my hand down around and stroked his ass. Ok, Maybe a picture was worth a thousand words. I let my hand wander between his butt cheeks.
The intake of breath came immediately and his hand left my cock, shot up and captured my arm in a grip of steel. The crushing pain made me grit my teeth.
His eyes bored into mine like two pools of burning black oil.
"Walter..." I began.
He let go of my arm. I hissed out through my clenched jaw. It had hurt.
"I'm sorry..." he mumbled.
"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed you knew what I was getting at..."
"Look, I'm cherry, not stupid." Walter interrupted me, "I know what you want. You want it up my ass."
"And you're uncomfortable with that idea?" I asked quietly. I touched his face again trying to read his eyes. There was something there - he was scared again.
"Don't you trust me, Walter?" I asked, "I would never hurt you."
"Mulder, I love you," he whispered.
Oh God. Well, shit. I guess I expected it. But to hear him say it? I felt myself tearing up. I knew in that instant I loved him too. I didn't want him to be worried or afraid about this last step. I was willing to forget about the whole thing now. I moved close and kissed his forehead and then the tip of his nose and finally his lips. He returned the kiss and when I pulled back he moaned a little at the loss of contact.
"I love you too, Walter. I mean it." I whispered in return, "We don't have to go any further - go ahead, do me whatever way you'd like. It'll be just fine." I added with all the love I felt for him crowded into my voice.
"Mulder," he sighed, "this...this is just going to take a little time for me to...oh shit," he let out another shaky breath, "I can not believe this. I've wanted...I mean for almost five years and...now...I...I mean I served in combat for God's sake, Mulder," he ground out, slapping his chest with his open hand.
"...how can I be such a friggin' coward about my feel...Ah, Fuck it!" he lowered his hand and I caught it before he could slap anything else.
"I know it's hard dealing with these emotions..." I began.
"For me? Always," he admitted in a quiet voice.
All I could do was squeeze his fingers and nod my head in sympathetic understanding.
"I'm a total dick," he sighed. I let go of his hand.
"Total dick doesn't even come close, big man," I chuckled reaching down to take his cock in my hand. He was pretty close to being completely erect again and Oh yeah - it was even more impressive then before.
"Yeah, I know that's a monster, you asshole. I've heard it before from half the fucking whores in Nam and my ex-wife too, all right?" he blurted out and then he started to shake with laughter, the nervous tension causing him to lose it at last.
I started to laugh like hell again. I hugged him close. He groaned and pressed his face into my neck, laughing and then sucking, tasting, kissing, licking. Just like a big cat, that big fucking panther, lapping, lapping at my skin.
"You taste, smell like...I don't know..." he mumbled, "something musky. Like fucking fox musk..." he growled low in his throat.
Musk? Oh baby! Shower gel courtesy of Dana K. Scully.
"S'good, Oh God, Walter..." I moaned as he worked down my neck, across my chest, tonguing each nipple again, over and over, and then back up to rim my ear with his tongue and lips.
Oh boy, thank you Scully.
"I want you to fuck me," he suddenly whispered in my ear.
Thank you twice, Scully.
I pulled back and looked him in the eyes.
"Are you sure? You want me to top you?" Well, my mind was just a bit occupied and I hardly believed my ears, OK?
"All the way," he growled again.
I nodded. "Right. All right. Hold that thought."
He raised an eyebrow but grinned a little and nodded. I had to get my lube and condoms. Just call me Eddie Eveready. Fox Mulder eagle scout - always be prepared.
I slid off the bed, erection swinging, and not wanting too look like the eager little slut I was, did the walk don't run thing, over to my garment bag hanging in the closet. I rummaged around and found the lube but for the life of me I couldn't find the condoms. Son of a bitch. I started pulling stuff out of the bag and tossing it on the closet floor. I hunkered down to search through those clothes as well. Oh shit - I remembered. I had taken them out back in the apartment the night before Scully got the call to go to San Diego. I'd used one to keep things going longer with her and...God damn it...they were sitting in her night stand drawer. Good move Mulder.
"What's up?" Walter was asking. I heard him shift on the bed. He was propping himself up and I knew he was looking at my white ass bending down as I'd been tossing my clothes around in the air.
"It's Ok. I...I'll be right there."
I got up and walked back with the lube. I climbed back onto the bed and he rolled over onto his back. I sat next to him.
"Is that Astroglide?"
"Hey, I thought you were cherry?"
He chuckled, "Like I said - cherry..."
"But not stupid."
"Look I don't have any condoms so if you don't want to go through with this I'll understand."
"I'm clean," he shrugged, running his hand down my thigh. I trembled a little under his touch.
I was clean too for that matter. So was Scully. We'd been tested for every conceivable disease in the world and some out of it. STDs were the least of Scully and my worries.
"Well, I'm clean too," I smiled.
"Then do it," he said with finality.
That's my Walter. Gruff man of action. I love that about him too.
He sat up and ran his hand down my chest and down over my cock again. He was getting more sure of himself. His touch was more confident.
"Mulder, I...I don't think I want to do this face to face if that's ok. I'm not...I..."
I put a finger over his lips again.
"Shhh. I know. Any way you want it Walter is fine by me."
I knew he didn't want me to see his face. Wasn't quite ready to let me in that much. Couldn't allow me to view that last total opening, the revealing of self I would see when I was inside him and he came. He trusted me but not enough yet to let me see his soul laid bare when I possessed him. I was a little sad he didn't trust me enough. But I knew it was a lot to expect from someone like Walter. I also knew that the trust would come eventually. We'd gotten this far. We'd journey the rest of the way before long.
He nodded his thanks.
"OK, so. I guess I'll need you up on your hands and knees, buddy. You can assume the position that way," I suggested pointing towards the headboard.
He chuckled at my wording of the suggestion, and I moved back as he got up and shifted onto his hands and knees.
"How's the arm, Walter? I mean the stitches?" I was a little worried the position would put a strain on his knife wound.
"What damn stitches?"
OK, that answered that question.
I knelt in back of Walter and surveyed the territory. Man, he had a gorgeous ass. A really nice, hard package. I knew it was going to be hot and tight too. I just hoped not too tight. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I reached forward between his legs and ran his balls between my fingers. That got a rise out of him.
"GGGod," he moaned, "Can you...Just a little softer..." he husked.
I let up on the pressure, "Like this?"
He was rocking his hips slightly as I massaged his balls in their sack. He had a very fine fuzz over his scrotum, soft down. Nice. I moved my hand forward, still cupping his nuts and uncurled a finger, trailing it along the underside of his hard on up to the tip. He hissed with my touch.
"Mulder, if you keep that up I'm gonna lose it and I don't think I'm good for three in a night."
I chuckled, letting go of his assets. Before I moved back I planted a kiss on his butt.
He barked a laugh.
"I always wanted you to kiss my ass," he was shaking with laughter.
"Thought so, Boss man," I grinned. I uncapped the lube, squeezed some out and stuck it cold right between his cheeks. He yelped like a scalded cat and shot forward onto his forearms.
He did laugh. "Ok, I guess I had that coming," he growled but with humor. I let him get back up on his hands and knees.
"Oh, you've got it coming all right," I replied. I squeezed out more lube and warmed it up quickly between my palms. I slicked up my fingers and probed carefully between his cheeks touching his anus. I had to wipe my other hand on my stomach so I could get a grip on his left hip. I started to push in the first finger.
"Take a breath, Walter," I advised him. When he did I worked the finger all the way in. He hissed but took it just fine.
"I need to work at least three in here, Walter, so relax and take a breath when you feel each one. Work with me and it'll be fine. OK?"
"Yeah, feels good," he craned his head around to look at me but then moved it back. He tilted his chin down against his chest. He was going to concentrate now so I let him do it. His mouth opened and his breath came in shallow pants.
I'm no where near as thick as he is but I'm not small. And I'm long. I knew I was going to hurt him if I didn't get at least 3 fingers in to loosen him up. I worked the second one in. He was doing quite well with the *take deep breath* instructions. I stroked my fingers inside him, angling to find his prostate. He jerked forward with a hoarse shout of pleasure when I found it.
"You fucker...God yes."
"Oh Yeah..." I hissed. I stroked him again and he moaned from all the way down where my fingers were flicking him. When he was at the height of the moan I pressed the third finger in and his voice rose up an octave and he rocked back into my hand.
"My, my Walter, you are a slut," it was my turn to growl now. Oh, this was fun.
"I'm dying, Mulder. I mean I've died and gone to queer heaven, you crazy asshole..." he hissed through his teeth.
We stayed that way for a bit, me stroking inside him, and him rocking and moaning against my hand until I knew he wouldn't be able to take much more without wanting the rest.
"Oh Jesus, please..." Walter groaned at last. I wasn't going to make him beg for my cock no matter how tempting the idea was to do it. He deserved more respect. I pulled out my fingers and wiped them quickly on the bedspread. I fished for the lube and squeezed more out, warming it again. I slicked my cock up with a liberal amount and put the rest between his butt cheeks. I wiped my hands a last time and then gripped his hips.
"You ready?" I asked him quietly,. I tenderly stroked both his hips. His muscles trembled slightly.
He nodded once. I pressed my cock against him and started to push. I was biting my lower lip, concentrating to stay slow and gentle, to maintain a steady pressure. The urge to ram in hard, fast and deep was almost too strong.
"Ohhhh," Walter moaned.
I stopped, "Breath in, big guy. Hang in there."
"Jesus, just do it."
"This isn't the fucking Marines, Walter. I'm not going to drill you here. Relax. I don't wanna hurt you." I hissed. Christ he was tight. But God it felt really marvelous. I grabbed his hips more firmly and continued to thrust. I finally felt him loosen completely and then I was inside up to my balls.
I settled against him. I was breathing hard by this time and he was panting like he'd run a marathon.
"Are you ok? I asked.
"Yeah," he nodded, "I...Christ. Your cock feels...GGGod," he whispered.
Well that did it for me. I moaned his name and he gave me an order then that I had no problem obeying from my boss - no problem at all.
"Come on, give it to me!"
I pulled back and then moved forward with a long, slow, deep thrust. He grunted under his breath and came up off the bed and back against my hips so hard he lifted me up. Well this was going to be some ride I thought. I shifted my hands up to get better support and stabilize myself and then I began to move against his hard muscular ass.
"Fast or slow?" I husked. I thought I'd better give him one last chance. I knew what I wanted to do. But this wasn't about me tonight. It was about Walter.
"Fuck me hard."
All righty then.
On the next backthrust I pulled all the way out and crashed forward as hard as I dared.
"GOD YES!!!!!" He howled and that was the last coherent word he said. We began to pound against each other, fast and furious. I couldn't believe he was taking it. All of me, and as hard as I could piston into him. Maybe I should have told him he was going to be sore in the morning. Maybe I should have told myself I'd be too. But I didn't care. I was beyond thought as I drove in deep. The sensation of a hot, tight virgin ass was too much. I just let myself go on autopilot, pumping and grunting against him as Walter ground his ass back against me every time I thrust forward. We were in perfect rhythm - breath, body and soul.
At the last I angled up, seeking to give him that ultimate internal ecstasy again, simultaneously reaching forward to grab his cock in my fist.
He cried out as I bumped his prostate, and clamped my hand around his straining cock. He was so close anyway by then that one stroke brought him off. He yelled out, shooting cum all over my hand, his thighs and the bedspread. Walter was sobbing as I milked him. I felt my own orgasm rushing, rushing towards me like a roaring, fire breathing dragon. Its flaming breath licked up my cock, up my spine and into my brain, boiling it.
"GOD...GOD!" I screamed, dropping his cock and grabbing his hips with both hands again so I could pull almost all the way out. I felt cool air for a second and then I rammed into Walter for one last hard thrust. "FUCK!" I choked out and then I exploded.
"You bbbbitch," Walter shouted as I shot into him. He was clamping down around me and the exquisite, smooth spasms were wringing every last drop out of my balls. I groaned loud, continuing to ride my climax all the way to the end.
Walter grew weak in the knees at the last and fell forward, flat on his face and I fell down on top of him.
We were shaking with the force of our respective orgasms and laughing as well. It was so good. Wonderful to know he had enjoyed himself so much. I wanted to see his face then. To see the smile that I knew would be on it. I pulled carefully out and shifted up, feeling around for my boxers so I could wipe off. I snagged them fairly fast and after I was clean I reached over and swabbed Walter off as well. I lay down next to him on my side.
"Roll over, Walter," I whispered. He pushed up and did as I asked, facing me. The smile was there.
"You're beautiful," I breathed touching his cheek.
"I'm done," he laughed, coughing. His breathing was trying to return to normal.
He was exhausted. I was surprised he wasn't rolling over and going right to sleep. But he didn't. Instead he pushed me back flat and laid his head on my chest.
"Is this ok for you?" he asked quietly.
"Fine. You wanna go to sleep?"
"Yeah. If I get uncomfortable, just push me off. I'll probably never feel it."
"Don't mention it," I yawned. I brought my arm up and wrapped it around his shoulder. He tenderly ran his hand over my heart and then followed his fingers with a feather light kiss.
Walter was asleep in under 5 minutes I think. When he started to snore I did shift him off and rolled him onto his side getting him more comfortable. I slid over to look at the clock on the night stand. 5 AM. Oh brother. No wonder the room looked like dusk now instead of midnight. The heavy curtains were blacking out the rising sun.
Well damn. I shrugged and set the alarm for noon. Fuck 'em. Carmen knew this would be a possibility. I could only hope she'd take care of things and run interference until we could come around. Let the fucking locals handle the media for a while. If it was a problem Carmen or SAC Matthews could always call up here and roust us. I had no doubt one of them would. It didn't matter which one of us answered which phone. The rooms connected and no one knew whether we were sleeping, taking a piss or in the shower - so who the hell cared anyway.
I rolled back over next to the hard, warm mass of my big bed buddy and snuggled up close, spooning next to his back. Boy he's a natural radiator I thought. Lucky I jacked up the AC earlier. I'd really enjoy having him next to me in winter.
I stretched an arm around his waist and pulled him close. Walter sighed and mumbled "fox musk..." I smiled. I really would have to thank Scully for that shower gel. Scully? My Scully. God, I love her so much too. We'd need to talk about things when I got back. I know she'll understand about Walter. I'd need to talk to Walter about her as well. I hope he'll understand how much she means to me, how much we mean to each other. I think he'll see and understand. I started to think that maybe, just maybe the three of us could...will face whatever lies ahead. Face it, face it all together.
-THE END OF THE WHOLE STORY-