R3-Nicole-p2

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Viva Tower
Skinner's apartment
November 26, 1999
2:00 a.m.

Alone again, Mulder thought as he settled into the cool bed. He hadn't ever imagined telling anyone about Patterson…about what he had done. That he was telling his boss was so crazy, and yet he felt like he could tell no one else. The two men couldn't be more different, Patterson and Skinner. While Patterson had been a predator Skinner was a noble, gentle man for all his strength. How to tell Skinner more? How could he speak the words that would let Skinner know what a whore he had become for Patterson? He closed his eyes and tried to block the memories out. He had blocked them for so long. He tried to focus on Scully. What was she doing? Maybe he should call her, she'd cheer him up. But even as his hand reached for the phone an unwanted memory assailed him and he was drowning in it.

***

2630 Hegal Place
Apartment 42
November 22, 1986
9:30 a.m.

Mulder stared at himself in the mirror above his sink. His eyes were shocked looking even to himself. Wide. No longer innocent. Self-hating. He had given himself to Patterson, had pushed back into the deep thrusts. Even knowing that he had not wanted it was not enough to banish his guilt. Patterson had simply taken what was offered, hadn't he? He felt his chest constrict with pain and he clenched his fists. Bill had praised him after, told him he was such a good agent, so dedicated. It made him sick. He thought back to that morning after, waking in Patterson's arms he had jumped up, his eyes darting around for some escape. But there was no escape from yourself was there. Patterson had opened his eyes and smiled, such a satisfied look as he patted the pillow next to him.

"Oh, Fox, don't look at me like that. What happened was natural. You wanted it, I wanted it. More importantly…you *needed* it."

"No, I didn't…you drugged me! You…you raped me!" The words hurt him, more so because he wasn't sure he believed them. His body ached, his stomach was clenching in painful spasms that made him bend slightly forward.

"Raped you?" Patterson unwound himself from the sheets that had gathered about him.

Fox's eyes traveled over the stocky frame and he flushed a deep shameful red when he stared at the redolent, fat cock. That had been inside him!

"What do you mean, Agent Mulder?" The words were barked, harsh and commanding. "You begged me not to stop! You sprawled on this bed and purred like a little kitten. Do you deny that you came? That you wanted it? Think carefully, Agent Mulder, because this is *your* career we're talking about."

"My career?" Mulder questioned. His eyes kept darting to that fat organ, consumed by thoughts of its deliberate thrusting.

"Yes, you don't seriously think anyone would believe that I raped you, do you?"

Mulder knew it was true. No one would believe it. Not that he would come forward, but even were he to do so, he would be laughed out of the Bureau. "No, no I wouldn't say anything…but you did…"

"What? Make you come? Make your sweet little body feel great?" Patterson had pulled him in a tight embrace and Mulder had allowed it. "You profiled the case, baby, while I was so deep inside you. Don't you see? You needed it."

Now looking at himself in the mirror, he wondered if it weren't true. He had wanted something like it…something like that to happen. How long had he dreamed of men? Dreamt of big cocks? He had even had the occasional rape fantasy. But, those were normal…they didn't mean that he wanted violence or rape. As a psychologist he *knew* that, but Jesus it didn't matter. He was so confused. He had to go to HQ today. After arriving home, he found a message from Patterson on his machine. There was to be a meeting and he was to present his profile. God, why was he trembling? It was just sex, wasn't it?

He forced himself to dress. Instead of the tie that would look the best with his charcoal suit, he picked one that was certain to look awful. Maybe Patterson would not like it. Maybe he wouldn't look at him.

***

Viva Tower
Skinner's apartment
November 26, 1999
3:00 a.m.

Mulder sat up in bed, damning the memories, damning himself. Why had he followed Patterson into his office after the meeting? Why had he sat, like an obedient boy, on Patterson's desk so that the man could suck him off? He wanted to scream at the memory. His legs pushed tight against themselves to deny how spread they had been, how he had watched Patterson's balding head descend between them in avaricious hunger. "Spread them for me, baby, I want you all open and hungry," Patterson had crooned.

Why in the fuck had he done it? Fed Patterson his cock and kept his protesting, passionate cries muffled. He could remember with utter clarity, the sounds of the office behind the thick door, the sounds of phones ringing, talking, footsteps…all mingling with the sounds of sucking and the moans of Patterson. "God you you taste so sweet, Fox. All this honey just for me."

"Fuck!" He was not able to stem the memories. Telling himself he was simply seeking the comfort he knew Skinner could give him, Mulder got out of the still-cold bed and made his way toward the master bedroom. Why his steps were stealthy, he didn't want to know. But when he opened the door, quietly he stood in the doorway, staring at the big body in the bed. There was the steady sound of breath, so steady, just like Walter. Over the years he had become so much more than a fantasy lover, he had become a friend, a trusted friend. He felt like a voyeur watching him sleep like this, but he found such comfort just being in the same room as him. He moved closer, his breathing ragged. He wanted him. Wanted him to hold him, to make everything better. Mulder knew that no one could erase what life had dealt him, but someone, this man in particular, could make it bearable.

He had made it to the side of the bed when the breathing changed, not so steady anymore, alert.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah," he whispered, not surprised that Skinner had awakened.

"What's the matter?" Skinner sat up, his hands going to his face, as if to check for his glasses.

"Nothing, I just wanted to…to see you."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes…no."

"Come here," Walter said, his voice gruff with sleep.

Mulder moved quickly to Walter's side. "I'm sorry I woke you. I just…I just didn't want…I couldn't sleep." He paused, "Can I sleep with you? I promise I won't…I just want to sleep."

Skinner pulled back the cover in a welcome invitation. "You don't have to ask, Mulder. I think you know that."

Mulder climbed in and he smelled the familiar scents; soap, mellow cologne, some citrus scent that he couldn’t place, in short, Skinner. He wanted to snuggle up, but didn't want to push himself on the bigger man. He sighed in utter pleasure as those strong arms surrounded him in steady comfort.

"I want to help you, Mulder. You know that," Walter husked out, squeezing slightly, his arms so big that Mulder thought he could happily drown in them.

"Oh yeah, I know you do. I just don't want to make you feel strange," he admitted. "You don't have to do this," he murmured even as he snuggled tighter against the huge frame. His thigh guilty rubbed against the soft bulge hidden in the cotton pajama bottoms.

"Yes I do," Skinner said in a voice that brooked no argument. "I have to, because…because I care."

"I know you do, but you…"

"No buts, Mulder. I want you here. God knows, I want you here."

Mulder smiled in the blissful dark and nodded. "Sleep now. We can talk tomorrow."

Skinner kissed the top of Mulder's head and though the dark masked it, a flush spread over the strong face. How he had always wanted to do that, kiss the top of Mulder's head. That he had done so while the special man was snuggled up to him in his bed was something he had never dared to think of.

Mulder tried to sleep, but he couldn't. Even as Skinner's breathing gentled out once more his mind was alive, frenetic. Not with thoughts of the past. No, with thoughts of the here and the now. His thigh was burning with the soft flesh it was touching. Skinner was so hot, so alive. His heart beat a guilty beat, much like Poe's fictional heart beneath the floorboards, insistent, damning. He wanted to know...needed to know what that soft flesh would feel like hard and demanding. He tried not to, didn't want to do it, but his hand slid down in a stealthy slide until it rested on his own thigh...so close to the heat, the center of Skinner. He stayed that way, heart in his throat, hand poised inches from the flesh he wanted so, for long, insufferable moments until he finally moved to cup that flesh.

He groaned in the darkness, softly, almost inaudibly. The heavy flesh under his gentle touch lengthened and grew ever so much hotter. "Stop this, Mulder," he told himself in a guilty whisper.

"No, don’t stop, Mulder," Walter entreated.

Mulder started. "You're awake?" He felt like a rapist. "I'm so sorry, sir, I just…I just want you…so much."

Skinner wouldn't let him up when he would have fled the room in shameful escape. "Don't you dare stop…Fox."

Mulder growled then. "I told you…never call me that. I hate it!" He licked at Skinner's lips, the actions louder than his words.

"Oh, I'm so sorry...Fox."

"Bastard," Mulder muttered. He grasped at the hardening flesh. "God, you feel so good in my hand."

"Yeah?" Skinner was desperately trying to remain calm in the hot grip.

"Oh yeah, you feel so hot," Mulder raised his face to Walter's, without thinking, without another sound, he captured Walter's lips with his. Toothpaste. That is what he tasted like. Something about that little, normal function, Walter brushing his teeth before bed, warmed Mulder. He groaned as Walter's mouth opened and lashed gently at Mulder's tongue with his own. Strong arms tightened about him and Mulder sighed, still stroking Walter's thick flesh. He wanted more, needed to feel the hot flesh without the barrier of cotton. He released Walter, chuckling as the big man made a small protest, and slid his hand beneath the waistband of the pajamas. His fingers teased the silky head and Walter kissed him harder, moving his hips up slightly to gain more friction on his cock. Suddenly Mulder pulled away and Skinner watched him in the dark.

"Mulder?"

"I want to taste you. Can I?" Mulder's question was met with the slow parting of Skinner's thighs. "Oh Walter, your body…I've thought of you for so long…like this…all mine even if it is just for the moment."

"Not just for the moment, Fox," Walter husked gently. His breath hissed out as Mulder bent to nip at one of his nipples. "Brat!"

"That's for calling me Fox," Mulder teased. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of the pajamas and pulled down. Walter lifted his hips and Mulder sighed as the fabric was pulled away. "You are…so…"

"I know," Walter growled.

"Big," Mulder finished. "Scratch the whole me calling you Bear thing…I think I'll call you horse."

Walter laughed then and reached up to stroke Mulder's face. "Does that bother you?"

"You're kidding right?" Mulder asked, but it was a rhetorical question. He dipped his head down and kissed the tip. That kiss, so soft, so modest, gave way to insistent licking as he pulled the pajamas all the way off. He squeezed at the thick thighs, the muscle so hard he could barely grab hold. He raised his head to look up at Skinner. "Can we turn on the light? I don't want to do this in the dark. I've waited so long for this…I want to see you."

Walter smiled and reached over to turn on the lamp at the bedside. They both blinked at the sudden brightness and then grinned at each other.

Mulder stared into Walter's eyes for a long moment before he moved to take in the perfection of strength that was Walter's body. "Damn, how do you have the nerve to hide this body under clothes?"

Walter chuckled, but he was inordinately pleased by the words. "Makes it easier to do my job."

"Yeah, you'd never get any attention to your words…everyone would be so turned on."

"Or I'd be in jail for indecent exposure," Walter chuckled.

"Ah yes, there is that," Mulder smiled. He slid down to resume his play, but Walter stopped him.

"You are a little overdressed, Fox," Walter purred.

"You are going to pay for every time you call me that," Mulder warned as he quickly pulled off his boxers. Walter's little hiss of pleasure made Mulder smile. "You like?"

"Oh yeah, I like," Walter growled. Mulder's body was tight, lithe and athletic. He'd known it already, but seeing him nude was like looking at portrait from the Renaissance period. "You are so beautiful, Fox."

Mulder grinned devilishly. "You, my friend, are going to start paying right now." With that promise he settled between Walter's thighs and spread those long legs further apart. He fisted the thick cock, watching a pearly drop of pre-cum form at the delicious tip. "I haven't been with a man in years, but I know how to drive you crazy," he sighed as he bent to lap up the clear fluid.

"Oh? You? Drive me crazy? What a novel idea."

Mulder chuckled and then opened his mouth wide to suck in the huge head. He stared up at Walter's face as the man moaned and closed his eyes with pleasure. The taste of cock in his mouth once more, turned Mulder on so much. God this is what he wanted, what he craved. Not any cock, this cock. His head bobbed and dipped, the suction of his mouth drawing inarticulate gasps from his big lover. When he rolled the balls in his hand Walter pumped his hips up eagerly. He was pinching his own nipples and licking his lips, making Mulder crazy. Skinner was such a surprise. He was utterly uninhibited, moaning and moving like they had done this a thousand times. He would never have guessed it, but it made him want to do more, to make the big man scream with pleasure. He abandoned the cock with one last lick and trailed his tongue over the balls, gently drawing in the flesh and nipping slightly, causing Walter to grunt. When his tongue traveled down Walter caressed his face.

"You don't have to, Fox," he breathed.

"I want to, and that is another one," Mulder grinned. He licked a trail down to the flesh between ball and anus, tonguing the flesh there, bathing it in heat and wetness. Walter lifted his legs to allow for easier access and Mulder moaned. Who would have guessed that Walter Skinner would be such a sensualist? It was so hot, Walter was so hot. He stared up at the perfect body laid out for his pleasure, the rippled abs, the defined pecs, the erect nipples, the thick powerful thighs and that beautiful cock. He groaned with lust and returned his attention to licking south until his tongue twirled about Walter's anus with intensity. He fisted Walter's cock all the while, one finger gliding across the wet head, rubbing back and forth as his hand pumped. He licked at the tight flesh and wondered if Walter had ever been entered. The thought of doing so made him flush with pleasure, but first…first he wanted Walter to fuck him. He played there for so long that Walter was sweating, thrashing and moaning.

"Jesus, Mulder," he gasped, not even knowing what he wanted except to come…but the pleasure was such that he really didn't want it to end. Mulder's hot tongue, his fingers, those lips…God those lips, so soft and gentle.

"Too late for Mulders now, sir, you have to pay for calling me Fox, when I expressly told you…"

"Oh Fuck, Mulder, I'm sorry, just…oh there, yes, Fox!"

Mulder smiled. "You are just tempting fate now, sir."

"Oh yeah? Well, slide up here and I'll tempt fate a bit more," Walter growled. "I think it is my turn to play with you." His words were choked out but the idea of doing to Fox what he was doing to him made him want to come just then. Parting those long legs, sucking that pretty cock…of God, licking his ass…fucking it. "Get your ass up here," he commanded and Mulder shifted around, keeping his mouth on his prize, but offering his own body to Walter's mouth.

***

There you go, Eli. Just when you thought you would have a respite too. J Have fun with it.