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Disclaimers: What can I say that hasn't been said a thousand times? They belong to CC and Ten-Thirteen productions, but they'd rather be at my house.

Other: Apologies once again for the Tylers. These people simply will not leave Walter alone. I don't think I've specifically offended anyone in this one. Blame attaches solely to the author for this mess. How could I blame anyone for my own failings? And to tell the truth, no one ever volunteers to have their name associated with these silly stories.

Author: annezo @ fastmail . fm

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TYLER'S CORNER

"Good evening, sir."

The caressing voice caught Walter off-guard, sending a chill of apprehension down his spine. That was quickly followed by exhaustion. Not today, he prayed.

He turned to face the newcomer. "Good evening."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, sir," Jimmy Tyler moved out from under the streetlight spotlighting his blonde hair toward the shadows by Skinner's car.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? It's a pleasure? It wasn't. Walter wanted to ask what in the hell the young man was doing, lurking by the small café near the Hoover building, but he was afraid he already knew.

"Thank you," Skinner said abruptly. "I'm afraid I have to...."

"You're a very busy man, I know." Was that a hint of reproach in the smooth voice? "Always in a hurry. Surely you aren't going back to the office at this hour?"

"No, I was headed home." Skinner cursed himself for the automatic truth. "It's been a long day," he added hastily.

"Could I talk with you for a few minutes?" Very well done, that innocent, wistful tone.

Damn it. "What is it?" Walter slid his keys out of his pocket and moved toward the car door purposefully. "As I said, it's been a long day. I really would like to get home if it's nothing urgent."

"It's not... urgent," Jimmy said delicately. "But it's rather important to me."

Walter was caught. He could think of no way to avoid the situation, not without unforgivable rudeness. He could hear the distant sound of cars on the roads. Lucky fools who were headed home without these kinds of complications.

"How can help you?" he asked coolly.

Jimmy slid through the shadows and smiled up at Walter with too-obvious admiration. "If only you would," he breathed.

"I beg your pardon?" In spite of his previous experience, Walter hadn't been prepared for anything quite so blatant.

Jimmy cocked his head and smiled angelically. "Don't pretend you don't know," he teased. "I saw you noticing me when we met, you know."

The subtle emphasis sent another surge of dismay through Walter. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," he lied stubbornly.

"I want to get to know you better," Jimmy offered with unusual tact. "And I think you feel the same way."

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood," Walter said, surprisingly calm now that it was out in the open. "I wasn't...."

"That's not true," Jimmy objected with cool assurance.

It was obvious that he hadn't met with much rejection in his young life, but with his face, that wasn't surprising.

"It is," Walter said firmly. "I'm not at all interested in you in that fashion."

"How coy." Jimmy's eyes twinkled up at him, inviting Walter to share the joke. "But you understood what I meant, didn't you?"

"You said...." Walter tried to remember. Exactly what had the boy said? "I assumed...I thought you were saying...."

"I was," Jimmy said soothingly. "You understood me all right." He managed to get between Walter and the safety of the open car door.

Walter fought the impulse to step back. "If you don't mind." He motioned toward the car.

Jimmy shook his head, smiling slyly. "My mother always says anything worth having is worth working for." The smile turned blinding. "I'm willing to work."

Undeniably, there was something very attractive about someone who was so honest about what he wanted. Flattering. That kind of blatant honesty had been unheard of when Walter was Jimmy's age and now he was surprised, and a little alarmed, to feel his own response.

Walter waited for the sound of sirens to howl their way to ear-splitting level and then fade into the distance. A police car with a fire truck in hot pursuit blared through the intersection.

"I'm not interested," he insisted, keeping his voice level. It was time to end this farce. "You're misunderstanding me."

"I don't think so," Jimmy said thoughtfully. His eyes wandered over Walter, the undisguised hunger in them sparking another automatic response from Walter.

Walter took a firm grip on his libido, wondering with irritation if he would ever figure out how to prevent that type of reflex response. In spite of Jimmy's obvious physical attractions, he really wasn't Walter's type.

Mulder's face floated through his mind and predictably, it was laughing at Walter's predicament.

Walter had never seen a picture of Mulder when he was young, but he was sure the other man had been attractive. Even beautiful, in the ripe, innocent way that Jimmy was now.

That was a much more attractive idea that the boy in front of him. Walter tried to imagine it. Mulder's face, the sharp angles smoothed by a layer of youthful softness, the hazel eyes less wary, more trusting.

Oh, yeah. That was definitely a worthwhile picture. A much more comfortable twinge sparkled through Walter's body. He had to smother a grin as he pictured his lover's face, hearing Walter's request to, come on over and, by the way, can you bring a photo of yourself twenty years ag?

A hand slid inside his suit jacket to rest against his chest. The heat of Jimmy's palm was amazing in the chill of the evening.

"I'm encouraged." The soft voice blew aware the rest of Walter's fantasy. "At least you're thinking about it."

Damn. "No," Walter said quickly. "I'm not thinking about it. I told you, I'm not interested." He ignored the hand resting warmly against his shirt. The last thing Walter intended to do was get into an undignified public scuffle with the boy.

Jimmy swayed up against him, one thigh pressed firmly against Walter's crotch. "You were thinking about something," he said wickedly. "Tell me what it was."

Walter took hold of Jimmy's shoulders and pushed the young man back a few steps. "No," he said. "I am not interested." He enunciated the words carefully.

Another tilt of the blonde head and a breathless laugh. "Tell me what you like."

His confidence was appalling. His persistence was...unsettling.

"I can give you what you want," Jimmy coaxed. He licked his lips. "I want to," he urged. "Just tell me."

A jumble of tangled images flashed through Walter's mind, but he refused to look at any of them. "What does it take to get through to you?" he demanded.

Jimmy slipped closer again and smiled up at him. "You're annoyed," he breathed. "You can spank me if you want."

Walter held onto his temper by the ragged edges. "I don't," he said shortly.

"Then, what?" Jimmy swayed toward him. "Just tell me."

Walter realized that the longer they stayed there discussing it, the more likely it was that something was going to happen. Whether he intended for it to or not.

Walter was beginning to understand Jimmy's confidence. The gentle persistence, the unashamed desire were becoming hard to ignore.

It was nothing like the attraction that had brought Walter and Mulder together.

It was the thought of his lover that broke the spell Jimmy's blatant availability was weaving over the quiet corner of the parking lot. Good sense washed over Walter like a cool breeze.

He opened his mouth to tell Jimmy, once and for all, that the answer was an unqualified 'no.'

And, an instant later, had two arms full of a warm and gently squirming Jimmy. Certainly a distraction and quite honestly a temptation.

It was the kiss that brought Walter back to his senses. Accustomed to Mulder's leisurely exploration that coaxed, more than demanded a response, Jimmy's enthusiastic but inexpert attack completely failed to convince Walter.

He pried Jimmy away from him roughly. Enough was enough. "Young man...."

"Good evening, sir." The light, mocking voice stopped Walter in mid-lecture. "Am I interrupting something?"

Walter dropped his hands and stepped back hastily. "Of course not, Agent Mulder."

"Because, if I am, I can see you later, sir." Mulder's face was expressionless but there was a dark gleam in his eyes that predicted trouble. His brief glance at Jimmy was all-but lethal.

"You're not," Walter emphasized. He looked at Jimmy, trying to keep his anger in check. "Good-bye," he said pointedly.

Jimmy hesitated, the ghost of a pout on his face. Then he shrugged. "I'll see you later, Mr. Skinner." He gave Mulder an unfriendly look as he turned and walked off.

"I need this signed." Mulder handed Walter a requisition form.

Walter glanced at the typed information, then pulled out his pen and scrawled his name. "Mulder...."

A car backed out of a parking spot and headed toward the street. Presumably Jimmy. Just knowing that the young man was actually gone was a relief to Walter. He handed back the form, trying to read Mulder's face.

Thank you, sir." Mulder tucked the paper into his pocked and nodded. "Have a nice evening."

"Mulder, just a minute."

"Was there something else?" Mulder gave him a cool look.

Walter looked around nervously. Damn it, this was not his fault! He met Mulder's eyes. "Yes."

"Would you care to explain that little charade?"

Walter wasn't sure this was the moment to mention that he'd actually been fantasizing about Mulder at the age of eighteen. "He jumped me," he said sullenly.

"How terrifying for you," Mulder said politely. "It's a shame the Bureau doesn't offer any self-defense training you could use to protect yourself from these unexpected assaults."

"There are a lot of rules against shooting unarmed civilians," Walter snapped.

"It's possible that some less radical course of action might have sufficed," Mulder said pompously. Walter knew that tone. It was the one that meant Mulder was seriously irritated, angry, but trying to hide it.

"Possibly, but that was the only solution that really appealed to me." He wondered if it would help if he mentioned that the impulse had been strongest the moment he saw that flash of angry betrayal on Mulder's face.

"All that training, gone to waste." Mulder crossed his arms, looking stubborn. And pissed off.

"God damn it, Mulder." Walter ground the words out, keeping his voice low. "Will you listen to me?"

Mulder shot him a quick look, his face mirroring that same hint of a pout that Jimmy had displayed. The difference was that, on Mulder, it had the power to make Walter feel an urgent need for a bed.

"Come home with me," he said recklessly.

Mulder looked at him, then shrugged. "I'll meet you there." Nor surprisingly, he shared Walter's distaste for playing out the rest of this scene in public.

Not for the first time, Walter was glad he lived so near the office. As he drove through the familiar, deserted streets, it was surprisingly easy to push the problem of Jimmy Tyler aside, in favor of dwelling on Mulder's sulky lower lip.

He went on up as soon as he'd parked his car. It was probably better that whatever Mulder had to say about whatever he'd seen be said in the privacy of Walter's living room.

Bedroom, his mind suggested. An appealing thought, but they were both too old to solve their problems that way.

By the time Mulder arrived, Walter had shed his overcoat, briefcase, and suit jacket and had poured himself a quick, nervous drink.

Mulder took a look at the glass as he slid out of his own coat, and his lips twitched. "Feeling a little...over-stimulated, are we?"

Walter saw the faint gleam of amusement in the hazel eyes with relief.

"A little annoyed," he corrected.

"Feeling stalked?" Mulder hung up his coat. "Or, because I interrupted your little tryst?"

"Don't be an asshole, Mulder."

Mulder leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "Cute kid. Very sexy. Very determined."

"He's under-age, over-sexed, and a pain in the ass," Walter snapped. He emptied his drink and thought about pouring another.

"He seems to be getting to you," Mulder murmured, correctly interpreting the impulse.

"You're pissed." Walter left the glass on the tray.

"Why don't you go ahead and change," Mulder suggested. "Put some jeans on. Get comfortable."

The abrupt change of subject took Walter off guard. He checked the clock. He would normally change as soon as he got home, but it was late. Late enough for bed, although now was obviously not the time to introduce the subject.

"Come on." Mulder draped his own suit jacket over the back of a chair and put his tie over it. "I'll come up with you."

Walter let Mulder guide him toward the stairs. In his bedroom, he headed toward the closet, loosening his tie as Mulder flipped on the light.

Mulder leaned against the door jamb, rolling up his shirt sleeves and watching Walter intently.

"What did he want?"

The abrupt question caught Walter as he was hanging his suit pants up. He glanced up in surprise.

Mulder's gaze was fixed on Walter's legs where they were exposed underneath the tails of the dress shirt. There was a lazy, possessive gleam in his eyes that started a spiral of excitement churning in Walter's midsection.

"Who?" Walter asked stupidly.

"The blonde bombshell," Mulder mocked. "Your little boy toy."

"He's not...." Walter bit the words off, determined not to rise to the bait. "Do you have to ask?"

He started unbuttoning his shirt and Mulder's eyes locked onto his hand, watching hypnotically. Walter hesitated, feeling absurdly self-conscious.

"Keep going." Mulder folded his arms and settled himself more comfortably against the door. "I am asking. What did he want?"

Walter fumbled with the shirt buttons, trying to remember something specific. "He offered to let me spank him."

"Something that might have done him a lot more good ten years ago," Mulder said absently. "Take your shirt off."

It felt like an act of courage to remove the white shirt. Walter carried it to the hamper, feeling Mulder's eyes on his ass with an intensity that almost burned.

"Come here," Mulder ordered quietly. His eyes roamed over Walter's chest and down to where his growing arousal was outlined against white cotton. "Sexy. Did you want to?"

Walter had the feeling that he was going to learn to hate Mulder's ability to carry on two unrelated conversations during sex.

"Want to what?" He tried to press up against Mulder for a kiss and was held a few inches away by a firm touch on his chest.

"Spank his little blonde ass," Mulder said clearly. "Is that where the two of you were headed?"

"Maybe," Walter admitted. "But not in the way he had in mind."

Mulder chuckled. "Put your jeans on," he suggested.

Walter hesitated, disappointed, then went to get his jeans.

"Nice."

Mulder's voice took him by surprise again. Walter shoved his second leg into the jeans and glanced over his shoulder at Mulder.

The hazel eyes seemed to be trying to stare a hole through Walter's underwear. Unnerved, Walter pulled his jeans up and was rewarded with a lush pout.

"Bummer," Mulder said regretfully.

"Mulder." Walter was torn between arousal and laughter.

Mulder's lips quirked, but his eyes stayed serious. "The blue shirt," he ordered.

Walter reached for a gray one. "It's not very comfortable."

"Is it scratchy? Mulder grinned lasciviously. Does it rub against your nipples?"

Jesus. "Mulder," Walter objected weakly. He could already feel it, remember the tormenting scrape against the sensitive skin.

"Wear the blue one," Mulder coaxed.

Walter didn't have time for a conscious decision. He found himself pulling on the blue shirt a minute later. With Mulder's suggestive voice still in his ears, the rub of the stiff fabric against this chest tightened his nipples into eager points instantly.

"I wish I knew what the hell you were up to," he objected, more as a matter of habit than because he expected an answer.

Mulder chuckled again and sauntered across the room to trap Walter against the closet door. His hand squeezed the hardness in Walter's jeans. "Feel this?"

"I'm going to assume that's a rhetorical question." Walter arched into the touch.

"You should stop and consider that it's going to be twenty years before little Jimmy knows how to blow your fuses by watching you put on your shirt." Mulder grinned wickedly.

There were at least a dozen good answers to that, but Walter didn't choose any of them. "Asshole."

Mulder laughed at him. "Don't pretend you weren't enjoying it, Walter. I've got the evidence in my hand."

The hand slid between Walter's thighs and pressed, making him dizzy with possibilities. "Asshole," he repeated stubbornly.

Mulder nodded judiciously. "A noticeable anal fixation," he mused. His fingers probed deeper. "We'll be sure and address that issue later," he promised.

"What's wrong with now?" Walter felt Mulder pulling at the stiff fabric of his shirt and each gentle scrape against his erect nipples fluttered new excitement through him.

"I don't want to waste all that work you put into changing clothes," Mulder explained with a grin. He cupped Walter's ass, giving it a squeeze. "You want to go back downstairs?"

Walter looked at him. "No."

"I have a lot more advice on the subject of your new admirer," Mulder pointed out.

"I don't want to talk about him." Walter grabbed a handful of Mulder's shirt and dragged his lover against him.

"I guess not." Mulder was still grinning. "New subject?"

Walter was suddenly reminded of Mulder's aggressiveness the first evening they'd spent together. An aggressiveness that hadn't been repeated until tonight.

"Stop talking," Walter said desperately. He wondered if Mulder had ever cared about Jimmy, or if this entire scene had been just an excuse to drive Walter mad with teasing.

"If I thought that I had your undivided attention for a change, we might be able to discuss that anal fixation you have," Mulder offered.

The stress on the word and the glint of something dark in Mulder's eyes answered Walter's unspoken question. He made a mental note that they'd have to talk about it, much later.

"I don't have an anal fixation," he objected.

"Sure you do." The shadow gone from his eyes, Mulder raised an eyebrow and challenged, "You want me to prove it to you?"

"How are you going to do that?" Walter wasn't sure if he wanted information, or just wanted to hear Mulder talk about it.

"Take your pants off, and I'll demonstrate," Mulder said wickedly.

"Put them on, take them off. Make up your mind," Walter grumbled. He felt Mulder tugging at the brass zipper and leaned back a fraction.

"I wanted to watch." Mulder pulled the button free and stepped back.

"I will if you will." Walter wasn't about to put on another impromptu show.

Mulder kissed him gently. "Is it okay if I like to look at you?"

That was unanswerable. Walter started unbuttoning his shirt. "If you start humming some obscene tune, this is over," he warned, not sure what to expect from his lover in this mood.

"I promise." Mulder dialed the light down to a soft glow. "Better?"

"Mood lighting." Walter shook his head, unwilling to admit that it was easier without the stark glow of the overhead light.

He stripped methodically, hanging his shirt and jeans back in the closet. He dropped his socks in the hamper and turned to face his lover.

Mulder's eyes swept over Walter's shoulders and chest, lingering for a heat-filled moment on the erect nubs of his nipples before sliding down to take in the sight of Walter's erection already straining against his briefs.

"All of it," Mulder said breathlessly. He was rubbing himself through his suit pants, the motion holding Walter's fascinated gaze.

"How about you?" he asked through a dry mouth.

"Walter." There was a dizzying pleading note in Mulder's voice.

Keeping his eyes on the movement of Mulder's hand, Walter slid out of his underwear and tossed it aside.

"God." A soft moan and Mulder jerked the zipper of his pants down, shoving his hand inside.

Walter walked over and grabbed Mulder's hand through the fabric. If he had needed confidence, Mulder's eyes burning across Walter's naked body would have given it to him.

"Your turn," Walter insisted.

"Lay down," Mulder said shakily. "Lay down and I will."

Walter nodded. This time, he made a deliberate show of it, walking slowly, stretching out over the mattress with one leg extended, hovering for a moment, then dropping down and rolling onto his back.

Mulder's hand was working against his cock again, his head tipped back against the wall. Even in the low light, Walter could see the flush of arousal on his lover's face.

"Over here," Walter demanded. "Where I can see you."

Mulder half-stumbled across the room, one hand pulling at his shirt buttons, the other still in his pants.

Walter watched for a moment. "Stop touching yourself."

Mulder cursed softly, then pulled his hand free and started dragging his clothes off.

Walter spread his legs, the movement focusing Mulder's glazed stare on the newly exposed region. Walter stroked himself, watching the feverish gleam in the hazel eyes.

He managed a smile, somewhere between arousal and amused satisfaction at the success of his teasing. "Mulder?"

"Mmm?" Mulder kicked his clothes aside and crawled onto the bed between Walter's legs, his eyes still locked on the movement of Walter's hand.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with fuses that can be blown." Walter gasped as Mulder bit the tender flesh inside his knee.

Mulder might have answered, but if he did Walter didn't hear it. His entire body was focused on the soft, wet trail Mulder was blazing as his mouth swooped inexorably down Walter's inner thigh toward the vulnerable, sensitive area between Walter's legs.

Walter didn't have a moment to prepare, or even wonder. Between one breath and another, Mulder's tongue spread itself across the tight skin of his ass, then slid inside with a delicious, melting heat. Walter choked and made a strangled noise and the invader obediently probed deeper.

He was being stretched, prepared, devoured. Walter was afraid to keep touching himself. He wound his fingers in the blankets and rode the indescribably pleasure wordlessly.

Eventually, but still too soon, Mulder's mouth worked up to graze the length of Walter's cock gently, licking the hot skin in passing before it traced its way up his chest toward his mouth.

"Lube," Mulder demanded, his voice husky with arousal.

First things first. Walter gathered his lover close and kissed him, feeling Mulder spread his weight over Walter's body.

He didn't know how long it had been since they last made love, but it suddenly felt like months. Mulder's hips thrust against him, each movement sending shock waves of arousal through Walter. He fumbled at the bedside table and located the lube.

Mulder took the small bottle and, with a last kiss, knelt between Walter's thighs and squirted generous amount into his hand. He stroked the oily liquid across his cock, gasping quietly as the coolness encountered his hot skin.

"Warm it next time," Walter advised him, waiting impatiently for his lover to finish.

Mulder slipped a now-warm finger inside of Walter's body. "I was in a hurry."

Walter shuddered. "Don't let me stop you."

"Not a chance." Mulder slipped a second, unneeded finger inside of Walter.

The sheer pleasure of the sensation kept Walter silent. He pushed against the fingers, watching Mulder's absorbed, glowing face for a few minutes. Mulder's free hand wrapped around his own cock and started stroking. It was an incredibly erotic sight.

Walter slid his hand around himself, watching Mulder's eyes move between his own hand Walter's, as they stroked themselves for their own, and each other's pleasure.

Walter savored the next few minutes, feeling the pressure growing inside of him slowly. For a while he was content, listening to the sound of Mulder's breathing, his half-articulated comments, and feeling his own breathing tighten as the pleasure grew.

He pushed against Mulder's hand. "Mulder," he said urgently.

Mulder's heavy-lidded glaze flickered to his face. "Now?"

"Yes," Walter sighed. Maybe he was anal. It didn't seem important. He just knew he needed Mulder inside of him, now.

Mulder slid Walter's legs over his shoulders and pressed against Walter's ass. In one swift, fluid moment, he sheathed himself inside of Walter. The unexpected action made Walter gasp and his body tightened automatically.

Mulder's hips rotated gently and the intense sensation relaxed Walter's body until Mulder was sliding in and out of him easily.

"You okay?" Mulder asked the question absently, his attention obviously absorbed by the pleasure of Walter's body moving around his erection.

"More than okay," Walter assured him. His hand circled his cock again and he stroked himself in time with Mulder's careful movements. "I won't break."

"No, you won't." Mulder threw his head back and moaned. "But I'm going to lose it," he gasped.

Walter's grip on his cock tightened and the pressure inside of him climbed dangerously. "Is it okay if I want to watch?"

Mulder laughed brokenly. "I will if you will."

Walter worked his muscles, watching the reaction on Mulder's face. The careful movements were replaced by a faster, harder thrusting that was deeply satisfying.

Walter squeezed his cock and rubbed himself harder, knowing that the intensity of his arousal would be telegraphed to Mulder through his muscles.

Mulder gave an agonized moan and leaned into Walter's body, his hips slamming against Walter's. "Come with me," he gasped.

Walter wished they could kiss in this position but the attempt might break his back. "Don't stop," he ground out, thrusting against his own grip. "Don't stop, Mulder."

"No." Mulder shook his head. "Please. Walter. Come with me."

"Yes." Walter felt it approaching, the sensations in his body spiraling down into a hot focus somewhere between Mulder's cock and his own. He jerked himself faster. "Now, Mulder."

"Now." It sounded like a prayer. Mulder thrust into him a few times, his rhythm lost in the intensity of his pleasure. "Now."

There was a noise, a strangled cry from one of them and then Walter lost track of things for a few seconds, his body almost overloading as his climax shattered through him.

Sanity started to return as Mulder pulled free slowly, leaving Walter with a regretful ache of emptiness, and sagged onto the mattress next to him.

"Told you so," Mulder mumbled a few minutes later. "Fixation."

Walter would have loved to have had a suitable sarcastic response ready, but his brain wasn't up to the challenge yet. He pulled Mulder to him for the kiss he had wanted. "If you say so."

Mulder cuddled up to him. "You gotta' get rid of that kid," he said. "I don't think I can go through this every day."

Walter laughed tiredly. "Me neither."

"Get rid of him, Walter." In spite of his exhaustion, Mulder managed to sound serious.

"Forget him, Mulder." Walter hugged him gently. "He's not my type."

"I know that," Mulder pointed out. "And you know that. But does he know that?"

"If he doesn't," Walter promised, "He will."

"Excellent," Mulder breathed, his eyes closing. His lips curved into a smile.

Walter watched his lover fall asleep, wondering if it was jealousy or simple possessiveness that had inspired Mulder's unusual aggressiveness. He smiled. Whichever it had been, there had to be another way to inspire him. When Walter had the energy, say in a month or so, he'd investigate the possibility.

In the meantime, Mulder was here, where he belonged, and that was enough. Walter tugged the blankets over them, wrapped his arms around Mulder and closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep, a faint smile lingering on his mouth.

****

The end.