TITLE: Detour

AUTHOR: Blue Mohairbear

FANDOM: X-Files/The Sentinel x-over

PAIRING: Walter Skinner/Blair Sandburg

RATING: NC-17 for hot, passionate and graphic sex between two absolutely gorgeous men. Any more questions? Don't ask - read.

(thanks, Jadzia!) ARCHIVING: yes

DISCLAIMER: CC, 1013, Fox, PetFly, UPN, Paramount - but I'm so much nicer to them, *oh yes*.

SUMMARY: Geez. I can't do this summary stuff. Sandburg seduces Skinner. They have fun. LOTS of fun. They talk. Drink beer. They learn whom they really belong to. They have fun again. A nice ending.

WARNING: For those who don't know my stories: SCHMOOP ALERT!

NOTES: Beta by Diana Williams, Queen Of The Chains. Thank you so much, Diana! All remaining errors are mine.

This story is for you, Sergeeva. Blanket for Linus. You know. XOXOXO.

***************
DETOUR

by Blue Mohairbear
August, 1999

There. He's doing it again. He's touching me and I could swear he's doing it on purpose. Not that I mind - the kid is stunningly beautiful and his secret adoration is damn flattering for an old guy like me. But this here is business, official FBI and police business. *And* he's at least 20 years my junior. Watch it, Skinner. Don't let yourself be distracted by a beautiful face... and especially by that enticing mop of hair.

There seems to be a very special connection between him and his partner, Ellison. I've been wondering about that all the time. No, I don't think they are lovers. But... there's *something*. It's almost palpable. Am I the only one who sees it or are the others just used to it? For one, they constantly touch. Ellison's arm around the kid's shoulders, his hand on Sandburg's back, Sandburg's hand on Ellison's arm - and they stand so close most of the time you couldn't push a file folder between them. And nobody here seems to see it. Weird. If I touched Mulder that way - god, I wish I *could* touch him like that. At least touch him. Not just having him in headlocks or thrown over a desk when he... stop it, Skinner. Not good to think about what it felt like to have him in your arms. Just stop it.

There. Sandburg's fingers touch mine as he hands me that form. Brief glance from under those cute eyelashes, the merest hint of a smile in the corner of that lush mouth. God, what a mouth. Beautiful. Luscious lips, and then that absolute kissable grin. He grins so much more often than Mulder, I think. Which is a pity, because *when* Mulder smiles, it's like the sun coming out. Hell, Skinner. Don't get pathetic here.

I'm not imagining this, am I? He just brushed against me when there was enough space for passing by without having to touch me. What does a beautiful, brilliant and sweet young man like Blair Sandburg want from a guy like me - almost fifty, bald and bespectacled? Especially when a sexy hunk like Jim Ellison is practically all over him? Well... maybe he *wants* Ellison but doesn't dare to risk a perfectly good friendship and working relationship. I'm not too stupid to read certain signs and that would be a reason I could understand perfectly well. I know why I've been dreaming about Mulder for years now and haven't said a word. Then again, Sandburg isn't Ellison's subordinate. He's his partner. Or, Ellison could be straight. But I don't think so. Bi, I suppose. Never let yourself be deceived by a butchy macho attitude. Just look at me.

So, what does Sandburg want? Me - or an Ellison surrogate? Well, whatever it is, he won't get it. Not from me, anyway. Ellison is younger and looks a lot better than I. Not to mention that he's got more hair... I'm going to clean up this paperwork, finish the case with Banks, go to my hotel and crash. And take an early flight tomorrow morning back to DC.

*******

I feel much better after that long hot shower. Not so embarrassed anymore. I can't believe that one of *my* agents fucked this case up so badly I had to fly all over the States to clear his mess up. Jonesson better not show his face in my office for the next week or I'll kill him. In cold blood. And that stupid partner of his, too. I'm looking for a pair of briefs in my bag when I hear the knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I bellow, as dismissively as possible. Maybe they'll go away. I want to sleep.

"It's me, Blair. Uhm, Blair Sandburg."

Damn. Sandburg. Damn, damn, damn. I can't help the shiver that runs along my spine. Send him away, Skinner. Tell him to go home. Tell him to ... whatever. Fuck Ellison. Because that's what he wants. That's what he *really* wants.

"Just a second," I hear myself answer and grab my jeans. Shit. I pull it over my naked ass and close the buttons over my cock. That damn little slut is half hard already. I shouldn't let Sandburg into this room, I really shouldn't. And while I'm still thinking that, I already have a t-shirt on and open the door. Yep. There he is. In a dark red silk shirt that makes him literally *glow*, a denim jacket in one hand and a bag in the other. He gives me the once-over, blushes, and swallows.

Okay, I admit it. I know how I look in a black tee. I *do* work hard for this chest and those shoulders and I enjoy the looks I get. Sandburg grins, a bit unsure and shy, but... well, his usual blinding Sandburg grin, lifts the paper bag and waggles his eyebrows at me.

"Thai. I thought you might be hungry by now."

Oh, I *am* hungry, my boy. I *am*. You've been stoking that hunger for three days now. I *should* send him home, though, but... shit. He's an adult, he seems to know what he wants, and from the looks he's giving me it really seems to be *me* he wants at the moment. It might be the most sensible thing to send him away but I'm tired of being sensible all the time. I step aside and let him in, suppressing the urge to grab him, slam him onto the bed and fuck him stupid. Instead, I take the paper bag from him.

"Thanks. I *am* hungry."

"That's what I've been hoping for, man," he smiles. I suppress a grin, very aware of the double sense. The weight of the bag and the clinking sounds tell me that he's thought of bringing beer with the food. Smart guy.

"May I?" before I can answer, he slips off his shoes and sits crosslegged on my bed. Reaches for the bag in my hand and unpacks it. Two cartons with deliciously smelling food, four bottles of beer, still moist with coolness. He points his chopsticks at me.

"I hope you'll like this. This is my favorite." Gives me a smile that could melt me on the spot if I weren't really hungry for the food. My cock is fully hard now and straining against the buttons, but I can ignore that for the moment, knowing I'll get what I want. I unwrap my meal and find chicken with a steaming, wonderfully smelling sauce and rice.

"Coconut milk, green curry and lemon grass," he explains. "Enjoy." I do. I dig into it and enjoy every bite. It's hot, very spicy and sweet and really delicious. Sandburg opens two beer bottles with his pocket-knife and hands me one of them over. When I grab it, his fingers brush against mine. Another shiver up and down my spine. He's cleverly disguised his lap with the food carton but the look he gives me tells me what I want to know. Yep. It's me he wants. I still don't understand why and neither do I understand what he sees in me but tonight I feel the irresistible urge to be reckless.

I don't know *how* he does it, but he talks continuously while he eats. Not only with his mouth, but also with his hands. He practically conducts himself with the chopsticks. I wonder how Ellison takes up with that - I heard they share an apartment. I believe I have never before in my life heard that much about ancient tribe cultures and other weird stuff as I have in the last three days - and I've been working with Mulder for five years now. I had been sure that nothing could surprise me anymore, but Blair Sandburg just smashes me. In every respect. He's like a hurricane.

"That was good." He sighs contentedly, folds the carton and tosses it neatly into the waste basket. Good shot. Mulder would appreciate that. Oh no. Stop it, Skinner. Be fair. No thinking about Mulder when this great young man here is sitting on your bed and -

"What now?" Sandburg asks me. And gives me that stunning grin again.

"Dessert," I growl. And pounce.

I ignore his startled "oof" as I bury him completely under me. He feels good, really nice. Strong, compact, hard. I do what I've been wanting to do for the last three days - I bury my hands in that lush hair and smother his breathless laugh with a kiss. Moaning, he clings to me and opens his beautiful lips for me, inviting my tongue. He tastes sweet, of coconut and curry and beer and of a very faint trace of toothpaste. He smells fresh and good and I realize that he must have gone home and taken a shower before he came here. His strong hands roam my back and glide under my shirt, his nails raking deliciously hot paths along my sides. Kissing him is like drowning in a hot pool of sweetness and cute noises. Even when kissing, he can't be silent.

He's a wonderful and eager kisser and the little moans and sighs he makes as he sucks and strokes my tongue with his own fuel the fire in my groin. I begin to slowly grind against the hard bulge in his jeans and the reaction is a loud groan into my mouth. He bucks up and our hips rotate like those of Lambada dancers. I enjoy the feeling of cool silk gliding through my fingers as I let my hands play in his hair. Ah, now, now I've found the right spot on his dick, he gives a cry and begins to thrust against me. Oh, the friction is delicious; my cock hurts and demands to be freed from the denim. I get up on my left elbow, pull Sandburg's red shirt out of his jeans and let my right hand glide under it. His skin is soft, hot and silky and I enjoy the tickle of his chesthair under my palm - until my fingertips find something cool and hard. A ring. A nipple-ring. Still kissing him, I take the ring between finger and thumb and give it a tender tug. The reaction is wonderful. He cries out, bucks up sharply, and his eyes fly open. Wide, blue seas stare at me, foggy with arousal. I tug again, and I have him begging.

"Walter.... god, *Walter*... no, man, don't do that--- don't make me come, Walter, man, don't make me --- god --- Walter--- no!!!!"

Oh *yes*, my boy, I think. I want you loose and relaxed, because in a few minutes, you'll be mine and I'm gonna fuck your sweet little ass. I'm gonna fuck your brilliant, amazing brains out.

I twist the ring a tiny little bit with the next tug and rub hard against his cock. That does it. I still his scream with my mouth and hold him tight as he comes, violently thrashing against me. It takes a considerable amount of control for me not to just give in and come all over myself in my pants, but I want more.

As soon as he calms down under me, I sit up and strip him. I could have done that before he shot, but I couldn't resist letting him come in his pants. It just was too tempting, he's so damn sexy and so much fun to play with. He's still in a haze, too clumsy to help much, and he looks so cute. Laughing, I kiss him and nudge at his hips. He understands, gives me a sweet, dreamy megawatt smile and lets me pull his jeans down. I use his sticky boxers to clean him up and kiss his cock which is still hard and impressively big. A moan and a grip at my head is the answer, but I take his wrists and lay them over his head.

"Relax and enjoy," I purr into his ear and begin to lavish his nipples with long wet strokes of my tongue. He loves that; he immediately begins to squirm under me and when I suck that nipple ring into my mouth and let my tongue play around it, he digs his nails into my shoulder and begins chanting my name, over and over.

I sit up and look down on him. He looks like a piece of marzipan, absolutely edible and sweet. He gives me a lustful smile and tugs impatiently at my shirt. I pull it over my head. I'd lie if said I didn't enjoy Sandburg's gasp and his awed "Oh, man" as he gets the first look at my chest. He pulls me down and threads his fingers through the fur.

"Oh man, Walter. You look great, you know that?"

I laugh and kiss him. "And you are definitely a treat for my ego." I hiss when his fingers find my nipples and pinch them. I can feel them turning into steel buttons in seconds. That kid knows exactly what he's doing. Ellison must be an idiot for not chaining him to his bed - but then, what makes that me, for not cuffing Mulder to mine? They'll have their reasons, I think dimly. And that's the last clear thought for a while because I intend to get serious now. I dive down, bury my face in Sandburg's wonderful hair and then begin to lick my way down his neck.

Sandburg's neck is strong and elegant and tastes of fresh sweat and of Sandburg and... ah, I could eat the guy completely. He's so totally appetizing. And he's hard. He rubs his engorged cock happily against my stomach, panting, purring and murmuring words I can't understand, while his hot hands seem to be everywhere at once on me. I'm almost sorry I didn't take him into my bed the two nights before; we could have had a lot of fun. He's a total hedonist and completely free of false shame and pretense. He loves sex and he shows it. My cock is so hard now it hurts and I have to do something about it.

I grab Sandburg and flip him around on his stomach. Happy to comply, he laughs into the pillow. He has nice strong shoulders, small hips, an absolutely adorable ass and well-built, muscular legs. He's a sexy kid. I still don't know what I've done to have him in my bed, but I'm determined to make it worth his while. I stroke my flat hands up and down his body and enjoy his silky skin and the sounds of pleasure he makes. As he arches into my hands, I can feel his hard muscles play under the soft skin. I get up, shed my jeans and let myself slowly glide down on him, my aching cock pressed into the cleft of his ass. The heat of his body covers me like an electric blanket. He moans loudly and shoves his ass up against me. I kiss his neck, then tenderly clamp my teeth down. Another moan and a hissed "Aaah, yessss" are my reward.

"Blair?" I hoarsely whisper into his ear and shove my cock against his muscular buttocks. "You want this?"

"Oh man, I don't believe it," he groans. He turns his head and looks at me with misty blue eyes."Walter," he says with barely restrained impatience. "I wanted you to fuck me the very second you entered the station with Simon. I saw you and I wanted you, man, and I want you *now*, ok? So, *fuck me*, Walter, dammit!"

I can't help laughing. Bossy little brat. He's irresistibly cute. But I need... damn, I hope he thought of bringing lube and condoms, I don't have any. I didn't expect to get lucky on this trip.

"Jacket," he pants. Thank god for a partner who reads your thoughts. In the blink of an eye, I have retrieved a package of condoms and lube from his pocket, the jacket goes flying to the floor and finally, finally I'm preparing that beautiful ass for my cock. Sandburg knows exactly what he wants and how he needs it, he directs me with little moans and movements until he is ready. He may be twenty years younger, but he sure has a lot of experience in this field.

I slip the condom over my cock and can barely suppress a hiss. I'm close to exploding. I grab my balls and pull the sac down until the need to come has receded a bit. When I direct my cock to his ass and press against his opening, Sandburg begins to sing a litany of high moans into the pillow. Slowly, very slowly, I glide in, always afraid of hurting him. Experienced or not, I'm big and I don't want to do any damage to this sweet ass. Sandburg doesn't seem to have any reservations, though. As soon as my cock has passed the first barrier, he grabs my thigh and pulls me down against him, shoving his ass back. I can't suppress a loud groan as I glide into a tight and blasting furnace. I'm lying flush against him now, he's whimpering and keening and I begin to move.

"Do me hard, Walter. Come on, fuck me, *hard*."

The raw need in his voice does it for me. I shift in him until I touch his prostate and reach around his hips to get to his cock. It's rock hard and pulsing, as if he hadn't come just five minutes ago. Youth, I think. And then I pull back and thrust hard and deep into him. And again. And again.

"Ohh! - Ooooohyesyesyesyesyes!!!" he yells. Music in my ears. I'm just glad he has buried his face in the pillow. Otherwise, no hotel in Cascade would give me a room anymore. And isn't it wonderful to fuck such an enthusiastic lover. He really likes it hard and rough, he enjoys every second of it and so do I. Oh, this is good, it's much too good - and much too quick, I can already feel that spring coiling up in my groin, tighter and tighter with every time I thrust my cock into Sandburg's hot ass. I hear my blood rushing through my whole body with every single of the frantic beats of my heart and the waves of lust and pleasure are almost unbearable now, but I'm unable to stop. Sandburg's hot, engorged cock glides smoothly through my hand. With every stroke, I give its head an extra hard press with my thumb and forefinger.

"Come on, babe, give it to me, I wanna feel you shoot," I growl into his ear. Oh yeah, he likes that sort of talk. With a high-pitched yell, he bucks up against me and he comes so hard that I just helplessly explode in him. I hear myself roaring but even that drowns in a hot white lightning of pure blinding lust. I ram into him and ride him until the waves slowly recede and wash me gently against the shore that is Sandburg's back. I'm totally spent and it feels like my chest is much too small for the amounts of air I need. Sandburg tries to say something, but besides a hoarse pant, nothing comes out. I laugh breathlessly into his thick mop of hair. Good. I've done him thoroughly, and I register the smug feeling of satisfaction and pride with a grin.

********

"Man, that was great."

"Hmmm." Fifteen minutes and two beers later, he's lying in my arms. After he has almost slapped me with irritation because I wanted to check him for damage. He told me to "stop fussing" over him. I just held him down on the bed and checked anyway. I love rough sex, but I'm not into pain and blood. He mumbled things into the pillow which I ignored. Luckily, he had taken the rough ride well. He'll be a bit sore and he'll feel me when he tries to sit tomorrow, but I must admit I don't mind that thought.

I pull him closer and he snuggles against my chest. His fingers play in the curls of my chest hair. "I like this. Feels nice," he mumbles drowsily. I kiss his forehead and thread one of his locks around my finger.

"Why don't you talk to him?" I didn't really want to say that - it's not my business - but I realize I care about Sandburg. Quite a lot. He's not just a nice quick fuck for me. I really like him. He knows whom I'm talking about. A heavy sigh blows through the fur on my chest.

"That's... much too complicated, man. No way. Not with Jim."

"Is he straight?"

"I don't think so. No, that wouldn't be the problem. He's been married, but I think he's bi. The problem is more, you know, we have a great friendship and a perfectly good working relationship and-"

Don't I know that problem.

"And you're in love with him."

He props up on his elbow and looks at me, his face concerned and serious. "Listen, Walter, I've been here with *you*, not with Jim. I--"

I silence him with a kiss.

"I'm sorry, Blair, that's not what I meant to say." He looks relieved. I grin at him.

"At least it was *my* name you screamed when you came. *Both* times," I add smugly, and he laughs, gives me a playful cuff and flops back down over my chest.

"Jim is special, you know," he says.

"I figured," I say dryly.

He gets up again and looks at me with suspiciously slitted eyes.

"What exactly did you figure?" he asks.

"Well... for example, how did Jim know there was someone in that burning house? There's been so much fuss about the rescued women that nobody thought of asking how Jim could possibly *know* they were in there, lying unconscious in their bathroom. Everybody seemed just to be happy to accept the fact that Detective Ellison rescued them. Period."

He nods slowly. "Good point," he says. "What else?"

"The house on which he spotted the arsonist was pretty far away. Somebody with really good eyes could have scanned the roofs without binoculars and maybe could even have seen something moving up there. But Jim... he didn't only spot the guy at once, but he told you that was your suspect." I hug him. "You need to be more careful, you two. You don't want to have Jim vanished in a secret NASA lab half a mile under the sand of the Nevada desert."

He looks at me in shock and horror and I could shoot myself for not keeping my mouth shut. "Walter -"

"Blair. Listen." I kiss him. "I don't want to know, ok. Believe me, I have seen weirder things than a man who has enhanced senses or whatever it is with Jim. What I *meant* to say in the beginning was just that I like you very much and I'd like to see you happy. That's all."

He nods. "Thanks, man. Is it.. I mean, is it really that obvious about Jim?"

I think about that.

"No," I decide. "I think I noticed it because of the last five years that I spent with some very weird cases. That just makes you look different at certain things. But be careful, anyway."

I take his face in my hands and look at him.

"Blair. I won't talk to anyone about this, I promise you that. Your secret is safe with me. Do you think you can trust me?"

I hope he does. I want him so badly to trust me. I want to... hell, he seems to wake some strong protective instincts. No wonder Ellison is all over him most of the time. He nods, relieved.

"Yeah. Yeah, I trust you. I know I can." He kisses me. His mouth is wonderful. Soft and sweet. When he comes up for air, I ask:

"So what exactly are you afraid of?"

He frowns. Crawls on top of me and drapes himself over my chest. Sighs deeply.

"Simple, man. I tell Jim I love him - Jim turns out to be straight or I'm not his type - Jim gets pissed and kicks me out. Or, we have a relationship and it fails. Then we would lose everything we have, you see? I can't risk that. He needs me, you know. This thing with his senses..."

I understand. "He needs you as his anchor. For safety. And that's got priority."

He slaps my shoulder and gives me a grateful kiss. "Exactly, man. His senses were a mess before we met. Can you imagine that when he was younger his father had him shut up in a clinic? They kept him drugged for months because nobody knew what was going on with him. No, man, he needs me. I can't risk that, really. No way."

I shudder unvoluntarily as I try to imagine Jim Ellison in a psychiatric ward, drugged. It's like...

"... a panther in a cage," I say loudly.

Sandburg jerks up and stares at me. "What?!"

"Just thinking loudly," I say, a bit startled at his reaction. "I thought of Ellison in-"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he grins. "It's just... the panther. Where did *that* come from?"

I shrug. "Don't know. He reminds me of one. What's so funny about that?" I give him a mock growl and he laughs, delightedly.

"Nothing, man. Nothing. That's exactly how I see him all the time." He shakes his head and I grab a fistful of his locks.

"C'mere." I kiss him, very thoroughly, until he pulls back, panting, and looks down on me with slightly glazed eyes.

"Wow," he says weakly. I grin. A younger lover is definitely a boost for your ego. Then he plucks at a bunch of my chest hair. He seems to be obsessed with that mat of fur, I just hope for him that Ellison has got some, too.

"What about those weird cases?" His eyes have that gleam I have to come to fear when I see it in Mulder's eyes. "Can you tell me about some of them?"

"No. That's as classified as Jim's abilities," I smile. Maybe I should ask him if he's sure that Ellison bleeds red. God, what would Mulder give to meet Ellison. A living X-File.

"Most of them are worked on by a Special Agent, anyway. I don't get to see too much of it," I add. I don't want to know *how* much I don't get to see thanks to Mulder's Special Data Filtering System.

"Ah," Sandburg raises his eyebrows, grins and nods. "That's him, huh? The *special* Special Agent?"

Now it's my turn to slit my eyes and stare at him.

"What the hell do you mean?"

He isn't intimidated at all by my growl. I know why. I've been working with Ellison for the last three days and as much as I hate to admit it, Ellison-style pissed is almost as good as Skinner-style pissed. No wonder the kid doesn't blink even once. Ellison may think he's boss in that relationship, whatever kind of relationship they may have, but, hell.... I'd love to see his face the day he realizes that Sandburg has him already wrapped around his finger.

"The one you think about when you get that far-away look," Sandburg explains, grinning mischievously. "Seems I'm not the only one here with a 'perfectly good working relationship', huh? So why don't *you* talk to *him*?"

I sigh. I've never before talked to anyone about my feelings for Mulder. But Sandburg... is special. And I trust him.

"He's my subordinate," I say. "An affair with a male subordinate - in the FBI - I don't need to tell you what that could do to our jobs." Not to mention how happy the Consortium would be if they would find out, I think.

"Shit," he says compassionately. He looks down on me and frowns, then glides down and sits up beside me, one hand on my chest. Lays his finger on his lips, thinking. Did I mention that his mouth is beautiful? While Mulder has got this absolutely hot and kissable lower lip, Sandburg has the most beautiful upper lip I've ever seen on a man. It reminds me of a bird's wings.

"There's more to it than only that, isn't it." Not a question. A statement.

"Because," he muses, "if you really love him and it were only your jobs at stake, you wouldn't care that much - I think," he adds carefully. "I wouldn't, I know that. I don't know much about your jobs, but I could imagine that both of you would be able to find a nice field of work outside the FBI, if necessary. Teaching, maybe, or counseling. Security. Whatever. So, there's another reason why you don't come out to him." He raises his eyebrows and looks at me. Then he blushes a bit.

"Um... not that it's my business... sorry, Walter, I didn't mean to pry-"

I grin. He's so much like Mulder. Always analyzing, always profiling. An IQ a mile high and a brain that is constantly running on overdrive. He's absolutely adorable and if it weren't for Mulder, I'd be putty in this kid's hands.

"It's okay. There *is* more to it, you're right, but that's difficult to explain and most of it I can't talk about anyway. But... what about you and Jim? Have you ever thought of the possibility that a sexual bond might increase the intensity of your relationship?"

That sure lured him off his track. He stares at me with those big blue saucers he calls eyes.

"You mean... anchor him not only in my mind but also in my body?"

"Nice expression," I grin. "But that's exactly what I mean. Well..." and I grab him and pull him down to me, "I know that *I* enjoyed being anchored in your body. Very much." And I lick slowly over his lips. His mouth opens and he sucks my tongue in, sighing. Then he pulls back, looks at me, gives me a wicked smile - and dives down on my neck. Nibbles and suckles his way slowly down over my shoulder and pecs to my nipples. I close my eyes and concentrate on his delicious assault.

His tongue trails a fiery path down, and every hot kiss is cooled by his hair that brushes over my heated and sentisized skin like silky feathers. He takes his time with my nipples, bathes them in his hot mouth, licks them, sucks, bites, pinches and strokes them until my brain is swept clean of every coherent thought. When he resumes his journey down my body and finally reaches my cock, it's so hard and straining that I can feel it dripping on my stomach. Sandburgs gives a happy hum and begins to lick. First my belly, then my cock. God. My fists grab tightly into the sheets. He's doing the most amazing and wonderful and crazy things down there. I think dimly that I'd love to return the favor, I'd love to blow his beautiful dick, but when he finally sucks me deep into his mouth, I'm so far gone that I can hear my constant moans only very dimly.

I give an unwilling grunt as he pulls back and exposes my throbbing dick to the cool air. He comes up to me, kisses me fiercely and straddles my hips. As he wriggles his ass against my cock and grabs a condom from the bedstand, I stop him. I take the condom from him, rip the package open and slip the rubber over *his* cock.

He looks down at me, frowning.

"I want you to ride me, alright," I say. "But you're too sore to take my cock again. We'll do it the other way round. It's your turn, anyway."

He blinks. As realization hits him, his mouth falls open. "You mean... you'd let me..."

I smile. "Sure, why not? I don't have any problems with being the receiving part. I like to be fucked." His smile is blinding and I bask in his look of open awe and adoration. God, I'm glad I didn't send him home. It just feels great to have him here. I stroke his pecs and let my fingers play in his dark chest hair.

"You're beautiful," I say. He blushes and suddenly he looks so young that I think for a second "God, he shouldn't be in my bed. He's much too young for me". But then he grins, lifts himself up a bit and nudges at my hipbone - and under his hot gaze I just forget how to think. I turn on my stomach, stretching lazily and burying my face in the pillow. The hands on my back are strong and warm. He begins with a wonderful backrub which relaxes me in minutes. Me, not my cock. I'm pleasantly hard again, but not urgently so. The edge is off and I can revel in Sandburg's ministrations. He is an expert in giving backrubs. Ellison sure doesn't know what he's missing.

Some incoherent thoughts tumble through my brain, of Ellison and those fantastic muscular arms and shoulders of his, then of Mulder's lean, but strong runner's body, and how it would feel if I gave *him* a backrub... but my contemplations begin to fade as my brain gets all foggy. Sandburg gives my back the same thorough treatment he allowed my chest and stomach before: kisses, nibbles and alternating arousing and tickling strokes. When his hair trails a cool feathery path along my spine down to my ass, I hear myself moaning.

Kisses on my ass-cheeks. He nudges at my inner thighs and I spread them obediently. I hear him humming and moaning softly now. He nibbles and licks along the cleft and I find myself raising my ass to give him better access. Now he licks my opening and I bite into the pillow, feeling that characteristic dark and heavy sweetness filling my groin. Sandburg knows exactly what he's doing and he sees to slowly driving me crazy. As his tongue shoves into my hole I know that this won't be a long and slow fuck as I had planned it. He could make me come like this and he feels it.

"Lay on your side, bend your leg up," he pants hoarsely. His voice is deep and rough with arousal and the sound sends hot flashes through my body. I do as he wants and then I feel his lubed finger in me. Good, oh, so good. He's extremely sensitive and seems to know exactly when to stop and when to go on. Pretty quickly, he's got me loose and relaxed and finally, I feel his cock nudging at my ass.

"Oh yeah, come on," I groan and I hear him whimper. Forgot. He likes hot talk. I'm quiet as long as he pushes slowly and cautiously into me. The pain is surprisingly tolerable, and pleasure quickly takes over as Sandburg begins to move in me. God, this is so good. I haven't had that in quite a long time. My encounters with passing acquaintances in the last years haven't been really satisfying. Superficial, hasty meetings to still the most urgent needs. No lazy, pleasurable hours like tonight, with a sweet, adorable partner who actually enjoys talking to you in between the sex parts and who, on top of all, has really interesting things to say.

At the moment, though, Sandburg's communication technique is reduced to moans and whimpers. As he shifts a bit and hits my pleasure spot, I growl with lust. I begin to encourage him, I tell him to fuck me, hard and deep, and that drives him nuts. He pulls almost completely out and rams back into me, again and again. This is exquisite, it's so incredibly good. And, as before, it's much too quick. The feeling of his red-hot burning steel bolt pistoning in and out my ass, the hard grip of his fingers on my hip and the delicious noises he makes in my ear make me lose it. As my orgasm crashes into me, it slams me back and forth between Sandburg's body and the mattress and I feel my cock spurting endless streams of semen into the sheets. I hear Sandburg scream as he presses his twitching cock deep into my ass and then he bites down into my shoulder and bursts into a cascade of little whimpers, each whimper accompanied by a tiny thrust into me, until he finally slows and stills and slides down along my body onto the bed.

"Oh, man." Slowly, limply, his hand glides down from my hip.

"Yeah." My throat is dry. I need a drink. And a shower. As soon as I'm able to move again. As far as my muscles tell me, that will be in about two hundred years. We both drift off into a light sleep after that. Not long, maybe for half an hour.

I wake from a groan behind me, then a wet kiss on my shoulder.

"I should go, man. If I don't go now, I'll never be able to move again. Can't stay the night." Another kiss, this time on my cheek, right under my eye. "Shower with me?"

Ah. The homing device has kicked in. You have it bad, kid, I think. "Sure," I say, smiling.

In the shower, we enjoy lathering each other with long, lazy strokes, both being deep in our own thoughts. I'm still considering if I should say it when he grins up at me.

"What is it? Come on, man. Spill."

Just what I need. Another profiler.

"Look Blair - " I take a deep breath. "I'm far from prying into your private business and it's sure as hell not my place to tell you what to do. You are an adult. But... " I have never been easy with words. "I... care about you and I'd like to know you're happy." Shit. That sounds sappy, doesn't it. It's embarrassing. An old, tough guy like me getting sappy over a not-yet-thirty-year-old. I turn away to leave the shower stall but then I feel his hands on my face, covering my cheeks, and I look down and directly into two solemn pools of deep azure.

"Same here, man. Look, Walter... I *want* to talk to Jim. This night with you has, like, practically *shoved* me on the way, you know? It's like I needed this to know what I want. And... well, thanks for that, man. But, Walter... I want you to be happy, too. So do you think you will talk to..." He frowns. "What's his name?"

And I know, suddenly I know that with this night with Sandburg, my time of one-night-stands is over. I know that I will talk to Mulder and that I will have him in my life. I just know it.

"Fox," I say, sliding my arms around Sandburg's waist and pulling him back into the stream of water. "His name is Fox."

Sandburg's eyes grow wide and I can see him literally prick his ears, beaming.

"Fox? Really? That's, like, so cool! Man. Fox, huh? Is he a native American? Foxes... did you know that the Sioux and the Cree both-"

I shut him up with a kiss. And I know that this is what my life with Mulder will be like from now on. My life will mean having a hyperactive bundle of energy at my side, a beautiful man with an overwhelmingly brilliant brain and a fountain of knowledge of the weirdest things you can imagine. Boredom will definitely not be in my vocabulary anymore. Neither will silence, I'm afraid, but I think that will be worth it.

*****************

SIX WEEKS LATER

I find an envelope in my mail. I don't recognize the handwriting, but a look at the back makes me smile. It's from Sandburg. I shrug out of my jacket and open it. A letter, not a long one, just a few lines. And a picture. Sandburg and Ellison. The big guy's arm slung protectively around the kid's shoulders. Both are grinning into the camera. They look relaxed and, yes, happy. I feel myself grinning like an idiot. I'm glad for Sandburg, really glad.

"Dear Walter," the letter says, "thank you so much, man." Sandburg writes exactly as he talks. Amazing. "As you can see on the pic, everything just went great. It was so much easier than I thought. I started talking and Jim just *pounced* on me. Can you imagine that he had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to *me* about being in love with me and all? I'm still totally dazed but I'm really happy, thanks to you, and I hope you are, too. Did you talk to your Fox? If you want, let me know some time. I'd be glad to hear you're happy. Blair"

Beneath these lines, there's a remark in another handwriting. "I did *not* pounce on Blair, *he* pounced on *me*. I didn't have a chance. But thank you, anyway, for being the catalyst. Jim"

I hear soft steps of bare feet coming down the stairs behind me. A pair of arms glide around my chest and a sleepwarm body presses against my back. I sigh and lean back into the embrace.

"Hey." A sleepy voice in my ear, a kiss on my neck. Mulder. My lover. My *lover*. There are still times when I can't believe it. It's still so... overwhelming.

"Hey yourself," I say, turning my head to kiss him.

"Something interesting?"

His left hand glides down my groin and opens the zipper. Clever fingers stroke my cock which begins to harden immediately.

"A letter from Sandburg," I say, trying to ignore the distraction. Mulder knows about my night with Blair. "It worked out with him and Ellison." I show him the picture. Hear him gasp.

No wonder, they look great together. Both are gorgeous and sexy men, each in his own way. A beautiful couple.

"Handsome guy, this Sandburg," Mulder says slyly. "I can understand you, Walter. But I would at least have expected that you fucked him because he reminded you of me. I don't see any resemblance between him and me." I can *hear* him grinning. He licks my earlobe. I shudder.

"You two have more in common than you think, Fox," I say, closing my eyes. My cock is hard now and I enjoy the light strokes of his hand along the shaft.

"What - you mean we both have a thing for burly, butchy guys with a pissed-off-attitude?"

Before I can answer, he bites my neck and says "I think I'd like to meet him." An unbidden picture flashes into my mind. Sandburg, naked. Fucking my likewise gloriously naked lover through the mattress. Ellison, in black leather--- Mulder chuckles as he feels my cock twitching in his hand. He gives it an affectionate squeeze that makes me hiss.

"Seems you like the idea, Walter." He nuzzles my throat. For a brief moment, I give in to the pleasant shiver that runs all over my body. Then I throw the letter on the desk, turn round and grab Mulder. There's only one way to silence him - silence means, you can't count whimpers, moans, sobs, groans and whatever sounds else. I kiss him until he can't see straight.

"No, thanks. I have my hands full with you alone." I give him a shove in the direction of the stairs. "Up. Bedroom."

He obeys, laughing, but turns around at the top and grins impishly down on me. "Should I let my hair grow?"

***FIN***