Part one: Slow Motion Walter (Powder Blues Band)

Walter Skinner sighed contentedly, and let the smoky blues music flow over him like warm liquid velvet. The disc in the machine by the bed had already played through three times, but he didn't mind. Point of fact, he hadn't noticed most of the songs the first time around, having been distracted by other things…this made him smile and glance over at his companion.

Fox Mulder was lying asprawl on the bed, arms and legs akimbo, eyes closed, and swollen lips creased in a blissful smile.

Walter reached over and ran a hand possessively over Mulder's chest, and one eye opened to regard him with something like gratitude.

"Walter…" Mulder's voice was silky and low, pleasant to Walter's ears much like the music playing in the room.

"Hmmm?" He continued petting his lover, absurdly pleased with the way Mulder twisted under his hand like a cat, to achieve more contact.

"Marry me."

Walter chuckled appreciatively and let his hand roam lower, over Mulder's stomach, circling there for a moment, then moving still lower—

Mulder caught his hand and brought it up to his lips, peppering knuckles and palm and fingertips with tiny kisses that tickled and aroused at the same time. 

Walter turned his body and shifted down on the bed until he was lying on his side, facing Mulder, who likewise turned with a smooth fluidity that allowed him to keep his grip on the other man's hand. 

Their legs entwined instinctively, and they played footsie for a moment. Walter added another hand to the proceedings, and Mulder pushed forward, trapping said hand between their bodies.

They touched without words for several minutes, soft caresses that were meant to be more loving and playful than arousing, since both men had already achieved their usual spectacular orgasms earlier in the evening. 

"Is this round two?" Mulder asked breathlessly as Walter's arms went round him, forcing full body contact, and he felt himself responding to the other man with the beginnings of another erection.

"Maybe." Walter pressed feather-light kisses to Mulder's face in much the same way that Mulder had kissed his hand earlier, light touches of mouth to flesh that weren't so much kisses as samples, tasting warm skin, rough stubble, light sweat.

Their mouths met, and Walter rolled onto his back, bringing Mulder with him so the lighter man lay atop him, their bodies pressed neatly together. He felt Mulder's hands on the back of his head, and he gave way to him as he plundered Walter's mouth greedily, tasting every inch of tongue, tooth, gum, constantly moving and seeking and reaching.

Mulder released his mouth with a gasp, and nuzzled at his throat. Walter caught his hair with one hand, running his fingers through the dark unruly strands, then clutching tightly when Mulder ran his hands down his sides to his hips and thrust his legs apart so that he was lying between them.

"We need to talk," said Walter.

Mulder's head came up so quickly it startled Walter, and that, coupled with the throaty "huh?" that accompanied it, made Walter laugh out loud.

"Now?" Mulder demanded, not angry, but definitely not in the mood for conversation. Walter kissed the frown and said:

"Yeah. I think so."

"Do I have to move?" This question was muffled as Mulder slid back down Walter's body a little to resume licking and sucking on his neck.

"Yeah." Walter took hold of him and turned again, neatly depositing him on his side of the bed before he could protest. Mulder glared at him for only a moment, read something important and needing in his dark brown eyes, and sighed melodramatically.

"Dear Mr. Whatcott—what you said about homosexual relationships is true; they do lead to heartbreak…"

They smiled at each other, then Mulder cupped the side of Walter's face gently and asked, "So, Walter, what's on your mind? Aside from the amazing blowjob you're going to give me when this little talk is done, that is."

This earned him a weak chuckle, and a barely perceptible stroke up his side, but when Walter spoke, his expression was grim, his tone somber.

"Do you ever feel like just going away, Fox?"

If nothing else gave away the seriousness of the moment, the use of his first name did. Mulder thought a moment before replying.

"Of course I do. I think everyone with any sort of responsibilities in their life thinks about running. And the more responsibility you have, the more you want that freedom that seems to constantly elude you." 

"I've booked some time off…" 

"Oh?" 

"I shouldn't have. I mean, with Scully off with the baby, and Doggett and Reyes just starting this investigation, and the budget reviews coming up and—"

Mulder covered his mouth with his hand.

"Where would you go, Walter?" he asked softly, and pulled his hand away.

"I don't know exactly. I mean, I have some ideas, but—well maybe I should just stay…forget I said anything. I should—"

The hand was back, cutting off his words. Mulder had propped himself up on one arm, and was staring intently at him.

"Do you want to go alone?" If Mulder knew he was flinching slightly as the words slipped quietly out of his mouth, he gave no sign. But Walter was instantly aware of the importance of the question. He kissed the fingers still covering his mouth, chasing them as Mulder dragged them away from his lips to slide down his chin.

Without warning, Mulder found himself back in Walter's arms, held tightly, hands trapped between their bodies. Walter's grip was iron and steel and unrelenting, and Mulder couldn't have escaped, even if he wanted to. That touch, coupled with his next words, eased a heart that didn't know it needed comforting.

"Will you come with me?"

"Well, I'll have to check my day planner, but—" He couldn't help but smile as Walter took him seriously for a moment, and he added a simple, "of course."

Walter loosened his hold on the other man, relief flooding him. Mulder regarded him solemnly and a little curiously, and Walter waited patiently for the inevitable questions about destination, purpose and scheduling.

"Can we have sex now?"

Walter laughed and Mulder pounced on him.