Fowl Play
They were both wearing their bathrobes, with their hair standing on end, and
they looked utterly and adorably dishevelled. Krycek wasn't wearing his
prosthesis so Mulder must have tied the sash for him—Skinner couldn't help but
smile at the mental image of such a simple gesture being so intimate at the same
time. The younger man was rubbing his eyes with his fist, pouting a little at
the same time, looking like a five-year-old.
Mulder was scratching himself thoroughly, his butt, his chest, his crotch. It
seemed like he needed a couple of more hands to really satisfy himself. He
yawned heartily, showing off his tonsils in the process.
Skinner chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. His subs were too cute
sometimes.
"What brings you here this early?" he asked, glancing at the clock hanging on
the wall. It was just past eight thirty. In the middle of the night for his boys
on a day like this.
"Coffee," Mulder replied with a voice still rough from sleep.
"And you," Krycek added, dropping a kiss on Skinner's shoulder on his way to the
coffee pot.
"And coffee," Mulder repeated emphatically, nudging Krycek out of the way.
After a large gulp of steaming hot liquid, Mulder's brain finally kicked in.
"Hey," he whined when he saw the wonderfully smelling pie standing next to the
coffee pot, cooling off. "You already made a pumpkin pie, Walter?" He pouted.
"I'm not feeling very thankful right now."
Krycek grinned. "Considering Fox's talents in the kitchen, I have to admit, I do
feel thankful."
"Hah-hah, dickhead," Mulder sulked. He turned to the older man. "But I wanted
to make the pumpkin pie, Walter!"
"God, you act like a baby," Krycek muttered, rolling his eyes. Mulder stuck his
tongue out at his lover before he deftly popped his thumb in his mouth, sucking
on it noisily in reply. Krycek rolled his eyes again.
Skinner chuckled and gently removed the thumb. "I'll give you something else to
suck on if you want to," he stage-whispered with a throaty voice, causing both
his lovers to swallow convulsively.
Still, Mulder didn't give up so quickly. He had been looking forward to making
his special pumpkin pie for his lovers, and now he couldn't, so he pouted
heavily and threw in his patented kicked puppy dog eyes for good measure.
Skinner sighed inwardly. There were days when Mulder just needed a lot of TLC.
The sub needed his daily dose of cuddling anyway. Sometimes, though, he needed
more. In those cases, Mulder generally behaved a little bratty, and was cranky.
Looked like today was one of those days.
The big man opened his arms invitingly and Mulder gladly fell into the waiting
embrace. Ah, Skinner thought while he hugged his sub, so the boy was starving
for affection. After a while, Mulder's tense muscles relaxed under his Dom's
gentle ministrations. Skinner kept running a soothing hand up and down the slim
back, and Mulder melted onto the broad chest in front of him.
"I only made the pie because the turkey will take hours to get ready, and I'm
not sure your pie would be done by the time we finished eating. Doesn't mean you
can't make your own pie, Fox. We'll have something nice to nibble on for the
next few days. And you can help Alex and me prepare the veggies, and make the
casserole, and the sauce, and the cornbread. Okay?"
The dark head, nestled safely against Skinner's neck, nodded.
"Good boy," Skinner said softly, dropping a kiss on Mulder's forehead. Then he
held him at arm's length. "Behave now?" he asked with a mock growl.
Mulder grinned sheepishly and nodded.
"Good." Skinner turned towards Krycek and gave him a sweet good-morning-kiss.
Then he deftly tugged on both sashes, opening the bathrobes and pulling his boys
into his arms again at the same time.
They kissed and caressed each other for a long minute, Skinner taking advantage
of his half-naked subs, stroking their bottoms, pinching their nipples, teasing
their genitals.
Then, while the big man was busy nibbling on Mulder's neck, the younger man
looked over Skinner's shoulder and happily exclaimed, "Stuffing!" He
disentangled himself from their three-way hug, effectively ruining the mood, and
walked over to the bowl of freshly made stuffing.
But when he made a grab for it, there was a loud growl of warning. Mulder pulled
his arm back hastily, like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Skinner chuckled and Krycek, ticked off about the disrupted necking session,
grinned broadly.
Mulder looked down to see Elvis, their pup, sitting on the floor, wagging his
tail happily. He was thrilled that his sub-masters were finally up as well,
especially the one who always bought him the squeaky fun toys. He yelped at
Mulder in greeting.
The man in question, now sure the growl had been a mistake, grinned and reached
out to the stuffing again. Elvis gave another growl immediately.
Mulder glowered. "Bad pup," he said, shaking a finger at the dog.
"Good pup," Skinner replied airily, patting the dog's head. "See, you teach him
silly stuff like that yowling whenever the front door closes. I teach him useful
stuff, like keeping naughty subs away from my stuffing."
"But I always nibble on that," Mulder protested. "I have to taste it before I
can let you two have it!"
"You're doubting my cooking skills?" Skinner asked. "The only way you get that
stuffing is while eating the turkey. Or if I shove it up your butt. What's it
gonna be?" He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
Mulder sighed and relented. "Remember who your real master is the next time you
want a new toy, El," he muttered in the pup's direction.
Elvis yelped happily in return, wagging his tail even wilder. A new toy? Oh, yes
please!
Mulder rolled his eyes.
"We started the hot tub before we came down, Walter," Krycek said, his eyes
sparkling with mischief. "Should be ready any minute now..."
Skinner's eyebrow rose again. "Oh?" he asked innocently. "Well, in that
case...let me get the bird ready and I'll join you in a sec. Wonderful idea to
soak a little, relax the muscles, before we get down to the serious cooking.
Good thinking, boys!"
Said boys grinned happily and turned to leave the kitchen.
Krycek, however, stopped and watched with a dreamy look on his face when his Dom
began to stuff the turkey. Mulder realized, in dismay, that Elvis didn't make a
single sound when Skinner grabbed a handful of stuffing.
Krycek's dick stiffened and grew, the cockhead slowly emerging from the
foreskin, winking at the world at large. He avidly watched the big man's hand
disappear inside the bird. Damn, he should ask his Dom about fisting sometime,
he thought.
Skinner, seeing his sub getting excited, chuckled knowingly but kept on
preparing their food. Mulder, mockingly sighing in a put-upon way, grabbed his
fellow sub's cock and pulled him out of the room.
The relaxing soak in the hot tub turned into a hot sex session, however, so even
though the three men were enjoying the boneless bliss after some mind-shattering
climaxes, they were also pretty exhausted. Skinner had promised Mulder something
other than his thumb to suck on, and his sub took him up on that. Afterwards,
Krycek showed his very own oral talents—the big man was seriously impressed
how long his sub could hold his breath under water. Mulder mostly wanted to be
cuddled and stroked, and was satisfied when he was brought to climax by a mere
handjob from his Dom. Krycek shrieked like a banshee when he was speared by
Skinner's cock and shot his load into the hot water surrounding them.
The cooking session afterwards was interspersed with more cuddles and kisses.
The men enjoyed each other's company, feeding one another little tidbits, slowly
filling their kitchen with the aromatic smells of a mouth-watering meal.
Elvis kept barking and growling whenever Mulder—or Krycek, for that matter -
dared getting too close to the pumpkin pie, or the rest of the stuffing. The
subs gave their pup dirty looks while Skinner kept praising him.
Still, their easy-going camaraderie took a nosedive when the two subs discovered
they had different ideas about how the rest of the day was going to be spent.
Mulder wanted to watch the games on TV. Football was part of Thanksgiving, thank
you very much, and it was tradition to sit in front of the TV for hours on end -
at least it had been during his bachelor years.
Krycek, on the other hand, wanted to go the whole nine yards, with a beautifully
set dining room, a huge center piece and candle light. He had never been a
football fan; if it wasn't soccer or ice hockey, it wasn't sport to begin with
in his opinion. Though he had to admit that he did enjoy watching football and
rooting for the other team, just to annoy Mulder.
Skinner sighed, breaking up what threatened to turn into a fight between his
subs. Sometimes he hated being the Dom in this relationship. Both of his lovers
looked at him expectantly, waiting for his decision, positive the big man was on
their side.
"I can understand you both," Skinner began, rubbing a hand over his tired face.
"But Fox, I really don't want to spend the whole day lounging on the couch with
a plate full of food on my lap, eating with my fingers."
"Definitely not on your precious couch," Mulder muttered under his breath,
remembering how much the older man loved the white sofa. Skinner had heard the
comment and gave his sub a smarting swat on the butt.
"Still, I would like to watch the games, Alex. It is somewhat of a tradition
for me. I know this is our first Thanksgiving together and we all have to
adjust, but I really don't want to miss out on my football."
Krycek sighed and pouted a little. He had really thought, for just one second,
that Skinner was on his side. Mulder smirked, positive he had won.
"I suggest the following," Skinner finally announced. "We bring the dining room
table into the living room and set it up in front of the TV. We will use the
fine china and the crystal, and we're going to keep the volume down on the TV.
But we'll have the game on and can watch it. No throwing of any kind of food,
though, Fox," he added sternly, remembering how his sub, excited as he had been,
had covered the entire living room floor with popcorn while watching the Wizards
vs. Knicks game on TV. Mulder was a huge Michael Jordan fan, but not when he was
playing against his beloved Knicks.
Mulder grinned sheepishly and nodded his agreement. He could live with the
compromise.
Skinner turned to his other sub. Krycek was thoughtfully chewing on his lower
lip. "But I can still root for the other team, right?" he asked innocently. "And
Fox will still not be allowed to throw food? Especially at me?"
The big man laughed out loud and nodded.
"Okay, let's do it," Krycek agreed. Should be fun, driving Mulder crazy for a
few hours...
"Good. Why don't you boys get the living room ready then while I finish up
here?" Skinner suggested, and the two men ran to do his bidding.
Mulder and Krycek were busy putting finishing touches on the dining room table,
bickering about which cutlery to use, when there was a bellow coming from the
kitchen.
"Alex, where are the cranberries?"
Krycek dropped the knives he was holding, and turned around just in time to see
Skinner stomping out of the kitchen. "I'm sorry?"
"There are no cranberries. I need cranberries. They are essential to every
Thanksgiving meal. Did you forget to buy them?"
"Are you sure? Walter, I know I bought them."
"I'm positive. I looked everywhere. You must've forgotten them."
Krycek frowned. "I'm sure they are somewhere." He started to walk towards the
kitchen but Skinner stopped him.
"It's okay, Alex. I know you didn't do it on purpose. There was a lot of stuff
on the shopping list. It's easy to forget one small detail." The big man sighed.
"But I still want my cranberries," he muttered.
Mulder smirked. "Guess someone's gonna have to go shopping again right now,
huh?"
Krycek's face registered a flash of shock. He hated crowds and walking into a
supermarket on Thanksgiving Day was suicide. Skinner shook his head solemnly.
"Don't worry, Alex. I'm going. You stay here with Fox." The utter relief on
Krycek's face was reward enough for Skinner. Still... "But you have to be
punished, of course. After all, you didn't obey your Dom when he told you to go
and buy what was on the shopping list."
The younger man grimaced but nodded. It was pouring outside, and the temperature
was close to freezing. He didn't want anyone to go outside, least of all his
beloved Walter. And Skinner wouldn't have to go if he had bought the cranberries
in the first place...a few well-placed swats were the least he deserved.
"Come here, Alex," Skinner said sternly, opening his arms. "I want to kiss you."
Krycek stared at the big man in shock for a second before he broke out into a
wide smile and ran up to his lover. Mulder gaped as well, not believing that
this was supposed to be the punishment.
Skinner wrapped his arms around Krycek, locking lips with him. Their tongues
battled for dominance before the younger man relented, giving himself up to the
demanding mouth and hands of his Dom. Skinner didn't even stop when he had to
come up for air; he merely started to nibble and lick on his lover's lower lip,
gently biting the chin, the tip of the cute nose. As soon as his lungs were no
longer begging for oxygen, he dove back in and sucked the life out of Krycek
until the younger man was hanging limply in the big man's arms.
The Dom didn't stop until he felt a telltale bulge pressing against the front of
Krycek's jeans. Only then did he move his mouth to the younger man's ear and
gently bit the earlobe—one of Krycek's absolute hot spots. The younger man
moaned helplessly. "You're not allowed to come, Alex," Skinner whispered silkily
into the ear, causing Krycek to moan again. That sure was punishment!
With one departing squeeze of the prominent bulge, Skinner turned around to grab
his coat.
Mulder protested loudly. He had only seen the kiss—a very hot, demanding,
utterly sex-driven kiss which had turned him on immensely—and had not heard
the big man's order not to come.
Skinner turned around, already in boots and thick wintercoat, and crooked a
finger. "Come here, Fox," he purred. Mulder swallowed, suddenly nervous. That
didn't bode well. But he still obeyed. Skinner grinned evilly and proceeded to
give his cranky sub the same treatment he had given Krycek.
Soon, Mulder was hanging breathlessly in the safe embrace of his Dom, panting
heavily. His cock was tenting the front of his sweatpants, a wet spot pointing
an accusing finger at his excitement.
"And you," Skinner said, not even slightly out of breath, poking Mulder's nose,
"you aren't allowed to come either."
And with that, the big man left the house—and two seriously turned on subs.
Mulder had serious difficulties keeping his libido in check. He turned around to
look at Krycek who had finished setting the table and was now lounging on the
white couch. The younger man apparently knew some kind of trick because he was
able to force his cock into submission by sheer will. There was no more
straining bulge decorating his front, and even though he was still breathing a
bit heavily, it was obvious that Krycek seemed serene enough. Mulder really
hated him.
For a quick second, Mulder debated with himself, trying to decide whether he'd
be able to get aroused again fast enough if he jerked off in the bathroom now.
Skinner didn't expect his subs to still be excited when he got back—though he
had used that little punishment as well in the past—but Mulder didn't put it
past his Dom to see how quickly they sported another erection. Mulder sighed. He
wasn't getting any younger, and the chances of having another woody so soon
after jacking off were slim to none. So, he had to get rid of his erection.
Pronto.
The sight of a reclining Krycek, bonelessly slouching on the couch, eyes closed,
thick eyelashes resting on rosy cheeks, sable hair ruffled, lips swollen and red
from kissing Skinner...
Damn, the erection got worse! Mulder tried to think of unpleasant things, but
nothing helped. Oh, what the hell, he finally thought, the only thing he could
do was watch TV, and try to forget about the sex session all three of them had
indulged in only a few hours earlier, in the hot tub.
Seeing burly men in tight pants tackling lanky men with cute asses didn't really
help Mulder fight his erection. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He turned
to Krycek. "Alex?" When he didn't receive a reply, he walked over to his lover,
intending to shake him awake. The man had actually fallen asleep! But when he
saw the innocent look on the cute face, Mulder couldn't bring himself to disturb
the younger man.
Smiling softly, he walked into the kitchen. There was only one thing he could do
to fight his damned erection: freeze it into submission. So, he went to the
fridge and took out a can of Coke.
Pressing the cold metal against the front of his sweatpants hurt like the
dickens, and it still took a while until his cock finally shrivelled up. Mulder
winced. "That sucked," he exclaimed with feeling to nobody in particular, just
to make himself feel better.
He stared glumly in the direction of the living room, where an innocently
snoozing Krycek had willed his dick to obey within seconds. How the hell had he
done that anyway? Skinner really should think his youngest lover had jerked off,
Mulder thought, sulking. Life just wasn't fair.
He emptied the can of Coke, watching Elvis sitting in front of the oven staring
at the turkey inside. "Hey, you having fun there, El?" he asked the pup who
promptly gave a friendly bark in reply. "You do know you're being incredibly
silly there, don't you? I mean, nobody's gonna steal that bird, you know." Elvis
wasn't perturbed, though. He merely kept staring into the oven. His
master-master had told him to watch the stuffing. The fact that the stuffing was
now inside the bird...well, that wasn't his fault.
"Stupid dog," Mulder muttered, more out of boredom than anything else. Nobody
wanted to play with him, not even his pup, for crissakes! What had the world
come to?
Mulder sighed and threw the empty can into the trash, wrinkling his nose when he
saw the turkey giblets Skinner had obviously thrown away. There was also the
cooked neck lying there, something that looked utterly disgusting in Mulder's
eyes. When he took a closer look, however, he realized that the turkey neck
looked a whole lot like Krycek's uncut cock.
Granted, it was quite a bit smaller than his lover's dick. But Krycek's best
friend always shrivelled up nicely after a climax, and the glans also always
retreated into the foreskin again, making the cock indeed look like that
wrinkled turkey neck.
A brilliant idea formed in Mulder's mind, and—with an evil grin splitting his
face in two—he fished the turkey neck out of the trash and carried it out of
the kitchen, patting Elvis on the head on his way.
He really had too much time on his hands, Mulder decided while he carefully
opened Krycek's zipper and pushed the turkey neck inside, closing the fly again
so it looked as if his lover had his dick hanging out. Mulder stood back, giving
his latest project a critical eye. He moved Krycek's hand next to his crotch,
making it look as though he had fallen asleep right after the climax. Perfect,
he decided. And Krycek hadn't even moved a muscle all the way through!
The younger man had been tired all day, no wonder after the night they had spent
boffing like bunnies, then having the rigorous workout in the hot tub, and
preparing the food for the meal later today. Krycek had yawned all day—so had
Mulder and Skinner for that matter—but Mulder was still surprised that the
younger man hadn't woken up while his crotch was fondled. Or maybe I'm just too
good to be true, Mulder thought smugly, walking over to the front door to see if
Skinner would spot the fake cock right away when he came home. Yup, he would.
The turkey neck wasn't looking that much like Krycek's cock but their Dom
would be too far away to see it clearly. Perfect.
Still grinning insanely, Mulder decided to settle down in the easy chair and
concentrate on the game on TV in the meantime.
Elvis yawned heartily. He was bored beyond belief. His master-master had told
him this morning to watch the stuffing. Okay so far. But he really thought the
bird was too stupid to be real—why hadn't it flown away when Skinner started
shoving the stuffing in its behind? Granted, the poor fowl did look rather
pathetic, what without any feathers...or feet...or head, for that matter. But
still, how stupid does one have to be to allow something so degrading to be done
to oneself?
The pup cocked his head, wondering why he was sitting in front of the oven,
really. His master-master hadn't told him to watch over the turkey. If he had,
he would. He was good at guarding stuff. And his masters. He might be small but
he was one mean hounddog if need be!
And damn it, but the food was smelling delicious. Elvis was getting hungry. Even
though his masters had fed him bits and pieces while they were preparing the
meal, they still hadn't given him his food.
Where was Alex anyway? Alex was the one who usually fed him. He never forgot
about his little canine friend, why would he start now? Something must have
happened to his beloved Alex! Elvis decided to go and investigate, giving the
bird in the oven one last sorrowful look. Stupid turkey, you really brought all
that sweating on to yourself, Elvis told the bird silently in parting.
He found his Alex not far away, in the living room, sleeping on the couch. Elvis
knew better than to disturb his sub-master and, since Alex looked peaceful
enough and seemed to be breathing regularly and deeply, the pup decided to leave
him alone. Maybe his other sub-master would feed him, he thought, turning
towards the easy chair.
But Mulder was so engrossed in the game that he didn't even acknowledge the
pup's presence. Elvis didn't want to disturb his sub-master when he seemed so
happy watching the funny box with the moving pictures, so he went back to the
couch, sitting down next to it, waiting for Alex to wake up.
When nothing happened after a few minutes, Elvis grew a little restless and he
jumped onto the couch, right between Krycek's sprawled legs. Maybe if he just
sat there, staring at his Alex intently enough, the man would wake up and
finally give him something to eat...
Elvis suddenly cocked his head, sniffing. Well, well, well, what did we have
here? That sure looked tasty, and it even smelled like food!
The pup, now not really caring anymore one way or the other where his food came
from, bent down and gave the funny looking thing in front of him a careful test
lick. Yup, definitely food of some sort.
Ah, what the hell, Elvis thought, and took a hardy bite out of the treat.
At the same moment, Skinner finally came home, worn out from battling with old
ladies and small children in a crowded supermarket, and drenched to the bone
from the storm outside. But at least he had his cranberries and he was a happy
man.
Until he watched with growing horror as his pup proceeded to bite into the cock
of one of his lovers. Skinner gave a hoarse yell, let the paper bag drop to the
floor, and made a dash towards the sofa.
Elvis, startled by the yell, whipped his head around, with the turkey neck
between his teeth.
When Skinner saw that his pup had obviously bitten part of Krycek's dick off, he
felt the bile rising and held a hand over his mouth, desperately trying not to
vomit right on the spot—or faint.
All the commotion had woken Krycek who stared at Elvis blankly, not having the
slightest idea what the hell was going on. He looked at Skinner, who was
kneeling on the floor a few feet away, his face a mix between deathly white and
sickly green, trembling in horror. And why the hell was his fly unzipped?
Mulder, his concentration finally drawn away from the TV screen, took in the
scene in front of him and realized something had gone horribly wrong with his
prank. He just stared at Elvis who was thoughtfully chewing on the turkey neck,
and began to laugh hysterically. Even when he saw Skinner, shocked to the bone,
he couldn't stop. Mulder tried to control his laughter long enough to explain
and reassure his Dom but the laughing fit just had the upper hand, so he stood
in the middle of the room, bent over with hands on knees, tears of laughter
running down his cheeks unchecked.
Skinner didn't need any explanation anyway. Once he realized Krycek wasn't
bleeding to death, he went over to Elvis and took the turkey neck out of his
mouth. The big man understood perfectly well what had happened while he was
gone, and after the initial shock had worn off, he did something that utterly
and completely shocked Mulder in return.
He laughed. Hysterically.
Skinner had to sit down again because he couldn't keep himself upright.
Krycek still reclined on the couch, desperately trying to piece together what
was going on. When he finally managed to get a closer look at what now Skinner
was holding, he realized it looked a whole lot like the miniature version of his
dick. Damn Mulder anyway! But he had to admit, while watching his lovers
completely losing it, the prank wasn't really too bad, so he joined in the
laughter until all three men were howling like hyenas, holding their stomachs.
Only Elvis sat in the middle of this madness, utterly confused. Great, he
thought, I finally find something to eat and master-master takes it away from
me. And even though all three of them are now awake and realize I'm here, not
one of them deems it appropriate to feed their pup! Great masters I found myself
here...
The Thanksgiving meal was a quiet affair. The men had brought all the food into
the living room, and now sat side-by-side, facing the TV. Elvis, his belly
finally full, lay on his back under the table, enjoying Krycek's stocking foot
gently rubbing over his belly.
Skinner knew he should punish Mulder for the prank he had pulled but, damn it,
it had been too funny. And anyway, he wasn't in the mood to punish anyone. It
was Thanksgiving, and time to give thanks.
"Okay, who wants to start?" the big man asked. When his subs blushed and stared
at their plates, he sighed and conceded, "Okay, I'll go first." He cleared his
throat. "I'm thankful for my two beautiful boys who enrich my life. And make it
more interesting on a daily basis, as Fox has proven only an hour ago." Skinner
shot a meaningful glance in Mulder's direction. "I'm thankful for Elvis, the
best pup a man could ask for. I'm thankful for my subs conspiring against me so
I'll finally quit my fucked-up job. A job I'm most definitely not thankful
for." Mulder and Krycek clapped their hands encouragingly. They were happy that
their lover had finally caved in and promised them to quit at the end of the
year. "I'm thankful that my life has turned out to be what it is now, because I
couldn't possibly imagine what I might be missing in it." The big man gave both
of his lovers a wide, happy smile and a peck on the cheek.
Krycek blushed, and took a deep breath. Then, staring at the table top, he
mumbled, "I'm thankful for you two. There's no doubt you've saved my life when
you took me in. I'm thankful for Walter being strict when I need it, but loving
nevertheless. I'm thankful for Fox getting into enough trouble so Walter's
paddle gets a workout on his butt more than my own." He grinned quickly and was
rewarded by a gentle slap to the back of his head by his Dom. "I'm thankful for
Elvis, and my friends at the animal shelter, and the job I've found there,
because for the first time in my life I feel human." Krycek's eyes got
suspiciously bright. He was incredibly embarrassed about pouring his heart out
like that and felt the need to lighten up the mood a little. "I'm most
definitely thankful for Walter baking a pumpkin pie so I won't have to eat
Fox's," he added, smirking. That earned him another slap to the back of his head
as well as a cry of outrage from Mulder.
"I'm thankful for Alex having an uncut dick so my prank worked," Mulder began in
retaliation, receiving a slap to the back of his head from Skinner. He merely
grinned and went on. "I'm thankful for you two, my one and only family. Well,
and for Elvis, who's part of the family though he almost bit me today when I
tried to steal a tiny little tidbit of pumpkin pie." Mulder bent down and stared
under the table. "Bad pup," he said emphatically to the dog lying there. Elvis
ignored him. "Anyway," Mulder went on, sitting up straight again. "I'm also
thankful for the love and affection you guys give me. For the support while I
was writing my first book. For the fact that I can watch football while we're
eating!" He grinned at Skinner and dodged the slapping hand just in time. "And
I'm thankful for all this sappy stuff being over now cuz I'm hungry and I wanna
eat!"
"Amen to that," Skinner nodded, giving both his lovers another deep, probing
kiss full of love before he got up to carve the turkey.
Sub-Urban Legends IV
by Gaby
Walter Skinner looked up from preparing the turkey when his two lovers came
stumbling into the kitchen.
