I took his hand and kissed his lips
He looked at me with such a smile my face turned red
We booked a room into the Ritz
Ooh ooh ooh ooh, he gave me head…
 
 

Mulder closed his eyes, slid further down into the deep, hot bathwater, and tried to ignore the persistent knocking on the door.

“Fox?” the soft voice was harder to ignore, but he gave it a shot.

“Fox?” A little stronger now, with just a hint of worry.

“Hmmm?” The heat of the bath made him feel lazy and inarticulate.

“Don’t drown in there.” 

“Don’t plan to,” he answered with all the petulance of a five year old talking to his mother.

Silence for a minute, and he stretched arms and legs, and noticed the nasty ache in his stomach had dulled considerably.

Another knock.

“Are you hungry?”

He had to think about that one. Was he hungry? He tried to remember when he’d last eaten, and realized that it had been before they’d gone to the club. It seemed like days ago, although he didn’t really feel like eating. He only realized that he hadn’t answered when there came another knock and a rephrasing of the question.

“Fox.”

“What?” His ‘relaxing’ bath was turning into anything but.

“I said, did you want something to eat?”

“Just you,” he whispered with a sly smile that he was glad Walter wasn’t there to see.

“What was that?”

“Not hungry,” he said, louder.

“All right, then. Thirsty?” Apparently Walter was determined to fuss at him regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

“Walter…” There was a hint of warning in his voice.

“Beer?” An unexpected offer from the other side of the door.

“I haven’t been in here that long—when did you have time to go out for beer?”

“Off-sale downstairs,” replied Walter as he entered the bathroom carrying two bottles. “It’s Canadian, though.” He handed one of the long-necked brown bottles to Mulder.

“S’all right,” he replied, taking a sip and finding it strong and cold and just what he wanted. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Walter sat down beside the tub, toyed with a washcloth, sipped his beer. “Want me to wash your back?”

Mulder let the hand with the beer in it hang over the side of the tub. He had sat up a little when his lover had come into the room, but now he reclined again, letting his head nearly slip beneath the surface as he muttered, “No, I want you to fuck me.”

“How am I supposed to hear you when you’re talking into the water, Fox?”

He brought his head up, then the rest of his body, and set the beer on the floor.

“Yeah, wash my back.”

Walter set his own beer aside, found soap and stroked it firmly up and down Mulder’s back, making his lover groan as his large hands pressed and stretched tense muscles.

“Too hard?”

“No such thing,” Mulder replied. Walter grinned and slipped one soapy hand around to the front of Mulder’s body, splaying his fingers across his chest.

“Tease,” he whispered, nipping at an earlobe.

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s feeling up his lover inappropriately,” Mulder countered.

“Sorry.” Walter tried to pull away, but Mulder caught his arm and held him in place.

“Was I complaining? I’m just pointing out the facts.” He reached for his beer, and Walter kissed his neck.

“Like Joe Friday,” Walter’s voice was muffled as he pressed his lips to Mulder’s pulse, then pulled back, keeping one arm still round the man while he found his own beer.

“I loved that show as a kid,” Mulder said.

“Me, too.”

“I didn’t think you ever were a kid, Walter.” Mulder was surprised to find his beer bottle empty.

“What did you think I was?” Mulder could hear the frown.

“An FBI clone, of course,” he replied easily.

“Ah, yes, I think one of your reports mentioned the “Grow Your Own Assistant Director Project.” Run by Riticulans, wasn’t it?” 

“Smart ass—ow!” Mulder had loosened his grip on Walter’s arm, and his lover had begun doing interesting and vaguely arousing things with his hand, tracing the muscles of his chest with his fingers, then moving lower, where he inadvertently put too much pressure on the bruises across Mulder’s stomach.

“Sorry, puppy.” Again he tried to pull away, and again Mulder stopped him.

“Hey, no worries, Walter. I’m just still a little tender.”

“But-“

“No butts. At least, not yet.” Mulder tipped his head back and waggled his eyebrows suggestively, making Walter laugh.

“Do you have any idea how demented you look when you leer like that?”

“All part of my charm—hey!” As Mulder was speaking, Walter was letting his hand wander again, carefully avoiding his stomach. He had to lean forward a bit, but was able to squeeze a thigh lovingly, and then let his touch drift left.

“This part of the charm, too?” he asked quietly, offering a lecherous look of his own. He set his beer bottle down and splashed his other hand into the water.

“Unh-huh-ohhh…” Mulder leaned back and let his lover’s hands wander over the evidence of his increasing arousal.

“All part of *my* charm,” Walter whispered in his ear, his voice low and growly. The sound shot straight to Mulder’s groin.

“Mmm…s’very charming…”

Another touch, another stroke, another pull, and;

“…Very, very charming…oh, yeah, like that, ohhh—hey!” Mulder yelped in alarm as the hands and the sensations they were producing were yanked away.

“I’m not getting in there with you,” Walter said, breathing nearly as hard as Mulder.

“Aw, come on, big guy, I know how you like your bubble baths.” Mulder tugged on a forearm that felt like steel.

“Thanks, no, Fox. How’s your beer?”

“Neglected,” he replied sullenly, and he wasn’t talking about the beer.

“What?”

“Okay, I’m getting out now.”

“Need a hand?”

“What do you think?” He was talking about the handjob Walter had been performing on him so spectacularly, but when he rose to his feet, he found the combination of the hot bath, a beer drank too quickly on an empty stomach, and the fabulous rendition of ‘the homophobe tango’ that he had performed last night had all conspired to make him a whole lot unsteady on his feet. 

Walter helped him, and then gave the bruises on his torso and face, which were standing out cruelly in the harsh bathroom light, an anguished look.

“Oh, Fox, your poor stomach. Your face—“

“Never mind my face.”

“I’m so sorry—“

“Apologize one more time, Walter, and I’ll be forced to do obscene, sexually deviant things to your body.”

“Define obscene,” Walter replied in his best dry office voice, unable to hide a gleam in his eye.

“Now who’s leering? Pass me a towel.”

“Let me do that.” Walter dried him off briskly with a large bath sheet, taking special care around his cuts and bruises, then handed him a second, dry towel to wrap around his hips.

“Thanks, Walter. I feel better. Did you say something about food?”

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“Changed my mind.” He held up a warning finger. “One word about it being a woman’s prerogative, Walter, and—“

“I know, I know. More obscene sexual threats. You know, that’s hardly threatening,” he said with a smile.

Mulder gave him a mock frown. “Are you demeaning my size?” 

“Not at all.” Walter gave his crotch a friendly squeeze, rejuvenating his fading erection with a single touch.

“Mmmm…Wait, I—“ He was interrupted by a low, mean growling sound.

Walter laughed. “Was that your stomach, or mine?”

Mulder walked out of the bathroom with Walter trailing behind him. “Don’t laugh at me, Walter,” he pouted.

“I’m not,” Walter replied, laughing again. “I swear.” He stopped beside the bed and looked down at the phone. “Room service okay? Or did you want to got out somewhere?”

“Room service. If we eat in bed it’ll save us a trip.” As he spoke, he took Walter’s hand, pulled him close, then shoved him hard, sending him sprawling across the bed.

“Hey!”

Mulder followed a moment later, not noticing that he’d lost his towel as he covered his lover’s body with his own, and took his mouth in a hungry, lingering kiss. Walter made a sound low in his throat, kissed back fervently for several minutes while he discovered with his hands just how naked Mulder was, then pulled away with a gasp.

“It’s pretty hard to reach the phone from here,” he panted harshly between words.

“Phone?” The concept was suddenly lost on Mulder as he struggled with the front of Walter’s pants. He nibbled on Walter’s thick neck as he battled valiantly with zipper and button, and Walter groaned and thrust forward, even as he was still trying to talk.

“Phone, Fox. You know how they work, don’t you.”

Mulder made a satisfied smacking noise against his neck as he freed his straining cock from his pants.

“Press the buttons, hear the man, order the food. It’s not—ohh—it’s not rocket science---ahhh…”

Mulder stroked him in a rough way that he knew he liked, and nibbled at his jaw, murmuring, “mmm…press the buttons…”

“Oh, yeah, like that…”

Mulder increased the pressure on Walter’s cock while rubbing his own aching erection against Walter’s hard thigh. He kissed him deeply, then nuzzled his cheek.

“Press the buttons,” he said again, “Mmm, hear the man…”

“Oh, yeah. Fox…Fox…”

“…Hear the man…” He swooped in for another breathless kiss, and stroked and writhed more frantically.

“Oh, yeah…Oh, god, yes! That’s—that’s—that’s---“ Walter pulled Mulder closer, though not a slip of paper could have come between them. Mulder in turn slithered out of Walter’s grip, slid down his lover’s still fully clothed body, relishing the friction on his own bare skin. 

“…Buttons pressed…” he murmured, still pressing against Walter, lower now, but with the same results. “…Man heard…” He could feel mounting pressure in his balls, and his breathing was growing more desperate and ragged as he forced out the last words.

“Order the food!” And he took Walter’s straining cock into his mouth, swallowing him to the base and sucking hard.

“Oh, Fox!” Walter yelled, and came immediately.

Mulder swallowed and felt his own orgasm rushing to completion as he did so.

Some minutes later, Mulder still lay across Walter’s legs, uncomfortably aware of the sticky mess beneath him but feeling too sated to move. Walter’s hand was in his hair, stroking softly, and he almost thought he might fall asleep just where he was.

“Still hungry?” he heard Walter whisper, and he had to grin, as much at the words as at the way they were spoken in a voice still oxygen-deprived. He turned his head in negation under Walter’s hand, and started to slip away. He thought he heard Walter saying something about moving; something about clean up, but responding would have taken more effort than he was willing to give. He sighed, and felt Walter twitch beneath him, and fell asleep with a smile.