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He jumped at the chirp of his cell phone, which seemed unduly loud and inappropriate in relationship to his surroundings. He fumbled for the phone, the chair he was lounging in creaked forebodingly, and the book that had been resting open in his lap slid to the wood flooring of the porch with a soft thump. “Skinner.” The bark was a holdover from a past life, one he didn’t need now but one he found impossible to completely rid himself of. He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and found himself growing more alert. The last vestiges of sleep fell away from him, and the man on the phone said something that made his eyes grow wide behind his glasses. “Are you sure?” he demanded, running a hand over his bare scalp and across his equally bare chin. The man assured him that he was, and then added something else and a slow grin bloomed on Skinner’s face. “That’s about the best news I’ve heard in months, John,” he said, and meant it. A few details later, final pleasantries and promises to visit were exchanged and Skinner hung up the phone. Bending to retrieve his book, he found himself unable to stop smiling. He smiled at the trees, the birds singing in them, and the chipmunks and squirrels rustling around in them. He grinned at the sky, which had given up the pinks and oranges and reds of dawn (when he had come out here to read, feeling lazy but unable to stay in bed) for a more vibrant blue of mid morning. And finally, as he dropped the book into his chair and straightened out, his grin escalated a notch as he looked into the cabin through the screen door. Skinner fairly danced his way through the door and around the living room, and then, at a sound from the kitchen, he chuckled to himself and headed in that direction. Mulder was standing at the sink looking out the window above it. He’d apparently just woken up, as was evidenced by his unfocused gaze and adorably tousled hair. The water was running in the sink, but he seemed to have forgotten he’d turned on the tap. He was wearing one of Skinner’s old shirts, which was hanging on his lean frame far enough that only the cuffs of his hunter green boxer briefs peeked out from under it. His lean strong legs ended in thick wool work socks, one pulled up, the other slouched down, revealing a scar on one slim ankle. He continued to peer dreamily out at the backyard while Skinner stood in the doorway grinning at him, his muscles tensing as he prepared to pounce. Mulder didn’t stand a chance. Two hundred pounds of extremely enthusiastic affection tackled Mulder, spun him around before he tumbled into the sink, and lifted him off of his feet. “What the hell—?” Mulder’s eyes widened in surprise, but were scrutinizing his lover carefully a moment later as he quickly assessed the situation and struggled in Skinner’s embrace. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his tone sharp but not angry. Skinner set him gently on his feet, put his hands on his shoulders and smiled hugely, head cocked to one side in a way that, in a particularly romantic frame of mind, Mulder might have called “endearingly cute” But still half asleep as he was, and before that first cup of coffee, Mulder wasn’t in a place where he was seeing the cuteness factor of the man in front of him just yet. “Jeez, Walter, what are you—“ Skinner licked his open mouth, bringing his words to a sputtering halt. He wiped at his mouth and gave Skinner a narrow, suspicious look. “Are you high?” he demanded. This made Skinner giggle and kiss the tip of Mulder’s nose. He moved to do it again a moment later, and Mulder held up a warning finger, made sure he had Skinner’s smiling attention, and closed his eyes, stating flatly, “This is me closing my eyes and counting to t-ten.” His breath caught on the last word as Skinner slipped his hands under the shirt, resting them on his hips with warm familiarity. Mulder continued. “And when I open my eyes, I expect to see my surly albeit loveable Walter Skinner standing here, and not this—this ‘pod-person’.” Skinner laughed again and his fingers teased around the waistband of Mulder’s shorts. He found Mulder’s ear with his mouth and the younger man shivered at the feel of his warm breath as he growled. “By the time you count to ten, this ‘pod-person’ is going to have you naked.” Mulder’s eyes flew open. Skinner kissed him roughly, ignoring his muffled squeal of protest. His hands came away from Mulder’s hips and he plunged them into his sleep-mussed hair, holding him firmly as he bit and licked and sucked at Mulder’s full ripe mouth. Moments later, Mulder’s arms came around him, his hands warm on his neck and the back of his skull, and he let his own big hands drop back down to grasp his lover’s hips and pull him tight to his body. Cloth shifted, wordless sounds of need were exchanged, and then, in true caveman style, Skinner wrapped one arm around Mulder, and stopped kissing him only long enough to drag him off to the bedroom. Without preamble, he pushed Mulder onto the bed and followed him down. He fairly crushed him to the mattress but got no word of complaint as he reclaimed that pliant mouth, pressing tongue and lips into service, drinking in the tastes and textures of his lover as his hands made short work of the buttons on the shirt. Soon enough he was feasting on Mulder’s chest, nipping and licking at nipples and navel and feeling himself growing more excited as the body under his fishtailed in ecstatic torment, and groaning affirmations slipped from Mulder’s mouth. Mulder gave up trying to move under Skinner’s fevered assault, and instead fumbled with the t-shirt Skinner was wearing, tugging with heated desperation to try and get it over his lover’s head and keep Skinner’s mouth on him at the same time. It was a losing contest, and he opted to go with the mouth thing and skip the t-shirt thing, especially when Skinner slid further down his body, now pressing soft, almost tender kisses to the satiny skin just below his navel. And when he mouthed him through the soft cotton of his briefs, his back arched automatically and he cried out his lover’s name with breathless abandon. Skinner spent long minutes teasing and tormenting his lover until he could taste Mulder leaking through the material of his shorts, at which point he tugged them down just enough that Mulder’s cock sprang free of it’s cloth confines, and Mulder gasped as cool air brushed over his erection. Moments later, Skinner’s hot mouth replaced the cool air, and Mulder thrust his hips brutally forward with a shout. Skinner took him with ease borne of experience, using his mouth to draw out Mulder’s pleasure, knowing just when to lick gently, when to suck roughly, when to pull back. Mulder was nearly insensate with pleasure, all thoughts centering around the feel of Skinner’s mouth, so much so that he was only dimly aware of his shorts being pulled off, and his lover moving off of him just long enough to slip out of his own clothes. Then he was back on the bed, his mouth and hands moving over Mulder’s body with growing need, his own impressive erection throbbing between his legs, pressing hot and urgent against Mulder’s hip, then trailing wetly across his thighs as Skinner nestled between his lover’s legs, forcing them apart easily with his body. Mulder raised his head and Skinner lifted his mouth from where he had been reacquainting himself with a nipple, and they exchanged slightly dazed grins. Then Skinner was sliding up his body, creating nearly explosive friction, and Mulder found his voice again, begging and pleading with his lover in a strangled gasping voice as Skinner burrowed his way under his chin, nipping and nuzzling his throat. One big hand reached down between Mulder’s legs, recapturing his cock and stroking it expertly, while the other clutched his hair just tight enough to hold his head back and allow him complete access to what was definitely one of Mulder’s weaknesses. Skinner felt his hand growing slippery as Mulder’s cock twitched wetly in his fist. When he abandoned his grip, Mulder groaned almost painfully, and his hips jerked uselessly. His eyes, which he’d closed as Skinner brought him closer and closer to orgasm, opened wide, the pupils so dark with desire they were nearly black. A moment later those same eyes grew slightly unfocused as Skinner’s fingers danced lightly down from his balls to his ass, one slipping easily into the cleft of his buttocks. Something that might have been a prayer of thanks issued like a sigh from Mulder’s mouth, followed by a whimper as the same finger lightly circled his opening, then pushed into him suddenly, while the other hand fondled his cock and balls softly. Again, Skinner prolonged the tease, pausing between stretching thrusts of his fingers to lick at the tip of Mulder’s cock, loving the taste of the man as much for Mulder himself, as well as the satisfaction that came from knowing that he did this. He made Mulder feel this way. And knowing too that only Mulder could do this for him, to him… More begging from his lover and a sweating intensity to his movements, not to mention a tensing of his own muscles, caused Skinner to withdraw momentarily, find lube and condoms, and apply both liberally, one to his lover, making him hot and slick, the other to himself, carefully lest he get carried away in sensation. He thought Mulder might have whispered “at last” as he glided easily into him, trembling at the way his lover’s muscles tightened around him, but any sound he made was drowned out by his own groan of completion. It didn’t take long for him to begin thrusting deep into Mulder’s body, and when he brushed over the man’s prostate, and Mulder cried out ecstatically and began thrusting back just as hard, their wet heated bodies slapped out a rhythm that sang out with more truth and honest emotion than anything heard on the radio… “I love you, puppy!” Skinner murmured emphatically, pushing Mulder’s legs higher in order to reach his mouth and kiss him, hard and demanding. “Oh god, Walter, I-I love—Oh god, yes!!” came the reply. “Close enough!” Skinner growled. Mulder shouted out something joyful and wordless, and they came together in a tangle of limbs, cries, twisted sheets and sweat-soaked skin… “Puppy?” Skinner asked some minutes later, when he found he could breathe enough to form words. When no response was forthcoming, Skinner found himself chuckling under his breath, then moving slowly around as he did a brusque clean up of himself and his lover, pausing only when Mulder cracked open one eye and made a fuzzy sound that might have been his name. “Pod person says next time you get clean up…” Walter said, laughing again. Mulder’s lips quirked up in a crooked grin, but he said nothing until Walter was back in bed with him, pulling a quilt over them and holding him tight, his arms forming both a cushion for his head and a warm weight on his chest. He grinned at his lover and said “Puppy wants to know what that was all about…not that Puppy’s complaining, mind you…” Skinner kissed him softly on lips still swollen from far less tender ministrations, and smiled. Mulder didn’t think he’d seen Skinner smile so much. At least not all in one morning. “I love you,” Skinner told him matter-of-factly, followed by “John called.” “I love you too,” Mulder found the words easily now. “What did he want?” Another kiss from Skinner, this one on the sudden crease of worry that flashed across Mulder’s brow. “He’s pretty sure the last of the “Operation: Get Puppy and Partner” goons are history, and Langly finally got the last bit of info on you out of the FBI mainframe.” Mulder stirred in his arms, raising his head with a disbelieving grin. “Really?” “Really and truly, puppy.” Skinner felt Mulder slump in his embrace, and only then did they both realize just how worried he had been. “That’s incredible news,” Mulder whispered. Skinner kissed the sigh that followed away. “No, that’s just the good news. The incredible news is even better than that.” “Better?” Now a brow rose skeptically, followed by a short laugh, “Unless you’re telling me we’re about to go into round two, I can’t imagine what could be better. We’re safe, Walter…you’re safe.” As he spoke he ran one hand lovingly across Skinner’s forearm. “Safe,” Skinner agreed, then added, almost offhandedly, “And godparents to be…” This time Mulder sat bolt upright, and the grin that bloomed on his face nearly outshone the sun, so blinding was it in its intensity. “Scully?” he exclaimed. “She—she—“ Skinner eased him back down into his arms, kissed him again. “John says it looks good, and they weren’t even trying…it just happened.” As if reading Mulder’s mind, he added, “He said to tell you that she said she’d call tonight to talk to you.” He felt Mulder settle back, his face taking on a thoughtful expression. Neither of them spoke for a time, and Skinner thought maybe Mulder had fallen asleep, and was contemplating joining him, when he felt a soft nudge to his ribs, and he caught Mulder’s sly glance. “Maybe we could return the favor…” “What do you mean?” Another grin, this one slightly more mischievous. “Well, if we keep trying…” Skinner shook his head, laughing, “If that ever happens, I’ll personally go back and re-open the X-Files,” he said. “I feel free, Walter,” Mulder said when he stopped laughing over that thought. “Finally and for the first time. You know?” he gazed at Skinner imploringly, almost willing him to understand. Which of course he did. “I love you, Fox,” he said, knowing he’d be saying it again and again, for a very long time. Mulder turned in his arms, letting his hands wander over his arms, down his sides, stroking over a hip with a certain propitious air. At Skinner’s quizzical look, he kissed him soundly and gave his ass a squeeze, then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “If it’s a boy, let’s name him Sergei…” This time their laughter mingled, sounding all the more content for the sharing, and when the laughter turned to sounds more carnal, less silly, they were content knowing that they could plan for a future neither one had dared hope for. A future now theirs for the taking. THE END...
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