*************************************************************************

Skinner had spent a restful afternoon fishing and trying to keep himself from thinking about his absent lover. He was enjoying the peace of his annual vacation, but it would have been preferable if Mulder had been able to join him at the secluded cabin. Since he had been taking this same week off every year for the past several years, canceling or postponing the trip just because Agent Mulder was out of town would have been difficult to explain. He had finally decided that taking the trip would be more enjoyable than living through another week in the office.

With anyone else, he would have suspected that the Las Vegas location was responsible for the delay in wrapping up the investigation, but he didn't think Agents Mulder and Scully would really be tempted by fleshpots and gambling. Well, he didn't believe Scully would be, and he counted on her to keep Mulder in line.

In spite of Mulder's reputation as a narrowly focused eccentric, obsessed by the paranormal, Walter knew his agent possessed a not-so-latent streak of sensualism that he would prefer not to think of him indulging in Las Vegas. At least, not unless Walter himself was somewhere close by.

And now he was here, stretched out defenselessly on the couch like a gift from whatever god, if any, who looked out for overworked bureaucrats. Much as he wanted to wake him, Walter decided to let his lover sleep. He needed a shower and a change of clothes and he wouldn't get either very soon if he woke Mulder up now.

He moved quietly and the younger man was still sleeping when he passed through the living room again on the way to the kitchen to look for dinner. It was too much to expect that Mulder would have thought to bring food. Fortunately Walter was well-supplied. He stopped in the doorway frequently as he worked, watching his unexpected guest. Eventually he gave in and sat down on the edge of the couch to claim a kiss. Mulder's sleepy chuckle didn't surprise him.

"It's the shirt, isn't it?"

"What is?" Skinner looked at the red plaid flannel curiously.

"The minute I saw it, I knew it was just the thing for those lumberjack fantasies of yours."

"My what?" He leaned back to give Mulder better access to his shirt buttons. He preferred pullovers, but his lover had a fetish about buttons. Or, so he claimed.

"Come on, Walter." Mulder slid them both off of the couch, winding himself around Walter until he had him trapped against the edge of the cushions. "Don't tell me you never dreamed about doing it in a logging camp. All those manly men?" He smiled wickedly, all traces of sleep vanished from his eyes.

"You're even crazier than I thought." He let Mulder slide his shirt off and rubbed his lover's shoulders encouragingly as Mulder attacked the fastening on his pants.

"'Than you thought?' Aha. You've been thinking about me." Mulder kissed him again, licking his lower lip and sucking it into his mouth for a few seconds before plunging his tongue into his lover's mouth.

"Not that much." Mulder's hand slid inside his pants and closed around him firmly, making him gasp.

"Liar." He grinned smugly and stroked him insistently. "Think about it, Walter. You. Me. The smell of fresh sawdust. Works for you, doesn't it?

"No." Uninvited, the picture of Mulder spread naked on a pile of logs wearing nothing but a come-hither smile came to him. He fought the urge to laugh and the equal desire to encourage the idea. Just to call his bluff, he assured himself.

Mulder kissed him quickly, his hands urging him onto the couch. Skinner leaned back against the cushions, lifting his hips to let his lover pull off the rest of his clothing. He was grateful for the reprieve. As usual, Mulder's ability to go from a sound sleep to complete arousal in under sixty seconds had taken him by surprise.

"How did you find this place?"

"I'm a highly trained Federal agent."

"Which means, what?"

"I followed a trail of breadcrumbs."

Walter gave up. Obviously Mulder didn't intend to reveal the person who had given him the location of the cabin where Assistant Director Skinner habitually spent his vacations. He watched with a smile of appreciation as the agent slipped out of his clothes.

Mulder didn't miss his reaction as he settled in front of the couch with a lascivious grin. "Miss me?" Leaning forward, he took the head of Skinner's cock into his mouth swiftly, probing the tip with his tongue.

"Jesus!" For one flying instant, Skinner thought it was going to end right then, but Mulder didn't move for several seconds, letting his body relax slightly.

When he was sure his lover was in control, Mulder released him just as suddenly, climbing up to kneel over him. "By the way, Walter. I almost forgot."

"What?"

"Did you catch anything?" He grinned maliciously.

Skinner looked at him dangerously. "Two seconds."

Mulder kissed him quickly. "Don't count too fast or you'll have to do without." He shoved a cushion under his lover's hips and resumed his place on the floor.

Skinner buried both hands in Mulder's hair, keeping his head and mouth where he needed them this time. Mulder was cooperative, running his tongue along the length of his lover's cock, then licking around the head before he sucked it back into his mouth and set a strong, steady rhythm he knew Skinner couldn't resist. He waited until his lover was thrusting against his tongue and moaning helplessly before he pulled away,

"Oh, god...." He shuddered as Mulder's finger slid into him. "Do you always have that stuff within reach?"

Mulder kissed the inside of his lover's thigh and licked his balls teasingly, smiling and avoiding the hands that reached for his head. "Only when we're in the same state. I didn't carry it at all in Nevada."

"I hope you carried condoms at least." Skinner couldn't resist the jibe.

Mulder slid a second finger up inside of him and started stretching him carefully. "Are you assuming I was unfaithful to you?"

Skinner didn't want to have this conversation now. "Ahhh...."

"Walter?"

"Shut up." A moment later he felt the urgent pressure of his lover's mouth on his cock again, the gentle scrape of his teeth and tongue making him crazy. He moaned in regret when the teasing stopped.

Mulder balanced on the edge of the couch carefully, pulling Skinner's head forward to kiss him.

"I know why you like that." Walter could hear the tension behind the smile in his voice.

"Do you?" He slid his legs over Mulder's shoulders and waited.

"It's because I can't talk, isn't it?" Mulder moved forward slowly, clearly savoring the way Walter pushed against him as he slipped inside his lover's welcoming body.

"That's would naturally be the most important consideration."

"Listen. About Las Vegas." To his frustration, the agent stopped moving and looked down at him seriously.

"You can talk. Or we can have sex. Choose."

"I can take a hint."

"Not noticeably." Walter rocked his hips experimentally, smiling at the gleam in his lover's eyes. "Have you decided?"

"Some choice." Mulder was moving inside of him again by now, twisting his hips slightly.

"Yesss...." His back arched and he moaned involuntarily as the pleasure washed through him. A moment later, Mulder's hand was stroking him again, quickly finding a rhythm that worked for both of them.

Mulder was smiling blissfully, but he didn't say another word. His soft moans punctuating his movements were the only sounds he made. Walter could feel him fighting to prolong the experience but they had both been waiting too long and neither of them were going to last.

Mulder was moving faster now, his hands never faltering in their motion. Walter enjoyed watching the way Mulder lost himself in the experience, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. For a few moments, the world around Walter disappeared and the feel of Mulder's body and the sound of his moans and their bodies slapping together were the only reality. Then his climax poured through him, sucking waves of mindless bliss from him that overwhelmed rational thought for a few precious seconds.

"Oh, god...Walter...." Mulder stiffened and screamed softly, his own release triggered by the feel of his lover's body convulsing around him.

Mulder slipped out of him and slid limply to the floor, letting his head rest on his lover's thigh while he recovered. Walter didn't move, leaving one muscular leg draped over the agent's shoulder while his breathing returned to something like normal. After a few minutes, Mulder climbed onto the couch next to him and leaned against his shoulder, kissing him gently. Walter threaded his fingers through the sweat-damp hair and smiled.

"Did you notice?"

Typical. Two minutes to recover and Mulder was talking again.

"Notice what?" Walter asked lazily.

Mulder eyed him in disappointment. "I didn't talk."

"Big deal. Five minutes."

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love this tender, romantic streak that comes out in you after sex?"

"You deliberately tracked me down to disrupt my peaceful vacation and take advantage of my helpless body. You expect romance, too?"

"You're about as helpless as a freight train, Walter."

"That's certainly a romantic image."

"What are you fixing me for dinner?"

"What makes you think you're getting dinner?" he teased.

"Simple logic," Mulder said smugly.

"How?"

"You're either going to throw me out now that you've had your way with me, in which case I need to recruit my strength for the drive back to Washington. Or, you're going to return the favor and take advantage of me later, in which case I need to recruit my strength. Either way, you have to feed me."

"It's that keen, analytical mind and that warped imagination that have gotten you where you are today."

"Where? Naked on your couch?"

"I was thinking of your job."

"That's good. For a minute I was afraid you were saying you didn't love me for my body."

 ****

 "Are you coming with me?"

Mulder glared up at his lover. "Walter, do you know what time it is?"

"It's morning."

"Barely. Come back to bed."

"No. This is when the fish are biting."

"Walter."

"What?"

"I think the fish will be happier if you don't show up."

"Forget it, Mulder."

"Maybe you're right. They probably don't care. They didn't pay much attention to you yesterday, did they?"

Skinner ignored the crack. Mulder was not a morning person. There was only one thing he didn't hate waking up for, and Skinner was already almost dressed to leave the cabin. He kept his eyes away from the inviting picture of his lover stretched out in the middle of the big bed.

"Rubber waders, Walter? That's a little kinky, even for me." Mulder, taking his first good look around the room, was grinning at the knee boots, on-hand for floods and other emergencies.

"Maybe they weren't for you," he countered.

"Oh? Are you telling me I'm not the person you were expecting to find sleeping on your couch last night?"

"I wasn't expecting company at all."

Mulder leaned back against the headboard and watched him through half-closed eyes as he finished dressing. "If it makes a difference," he offered, "I wasn't unfaithful."

"It makes a difference." Skinner sighed and gave up the struggle. Sitting on the bed, he pulled Mulder to him and kissed him. "But I didn't really think you were." He stood up quickly, before he could change his mind. "What are you going to do all day?"

"I brought some paperwork with me."

"You're supposed to be on vacation. Why don't you go for a long walk or something? Try relaxing for a change"

"I relaxed yesterday. I'm not doing that again. It isn't safe." Skinner grinned. Always in favor of the direct approach, Mulder had gone looking for him yesterday immediately after finding the cabin. Between the undergrowth, the trees, the insect life, and the complete absence of street signs, the agent had spent over two hours wandering around the woods hopelessly lost. As a result, he was less than thrilled with nature at the moment.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Try not to let Mother Nature get the best of you before then."

"Very funny." Mulder ran one hand through his hair and smiled, making Walter want to kiss him again. He picked up his fishing gear and headed out the door. Given the choice between crawling back into bed with his lover and going out into the pre-dawn air, Walter knew what he preferred. What he didn't understand what why he was going fishing anyhow.

When he returned to the cabin for lunch, Mulder was buried in a stack of old files, working on a computerized cross-index that he refused to turn over to the clerical staff. Two more file boxes stood waiting. He did agree to take a break to eat.

"So, tell me more about this adventure of yours." Skinner leaned back in his chair and stretched, smiling at Mulder's confused expression.

"The case? I told you about that. Besides, you're supposed to be on vacation."

"Not that one. Yesterday. When you took on the great outdoors and lost."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know this was hostile territory?"

"I assume you just wandered off into the trees without a second thought? Weren't you ever a Boy Scout, Agent Mulder?

"You remember the Big Blue case? I can remember Scully saying, 'It's not until you get back to nature that you realize everything is out to get you.' It's not me, Walter. It's nature. It's not benign. It's actively hostile to man."

"You were careless." Skinner grinned. "It takes more than a flannel shirt to make a mountain man, Agent Mulder."

Mulder looked at him bitterly. "You know, when I couldn't find you, I almost left a note telling you I was sorry but I couldn't wait. I could have gone back to civilization."

"Why didn't you?"

"Even my memories of Las Vegas are looking better." He grinned involuntarily. "I was trying to decide if you'd like Las Vegas."

"I have," Skinner said pointedly. "Several times."

"I'll bet you have. Somehow, I can't see you at the craps table, though. A Wayne Newton concert would be more your style."

"Which is not, I assume, how you spent your free time?"

Mulder came around the table and pulled him to his feet and into an embrace. "We already covered that, Walter."

"This is the acid test, you know." Walter ran one thumb thoughtfully over the agent's lower lip, resisting the impulse to kiss him and end the conversation.

"What is?"

"You don't have a case. I don't have any meetings. We can't have sex twenty-four hours a day. This is the first time we've been together without watching the clock."

"I know." Mulder pulled away and went to stack the plates and glasses on the kitchen counter. "I thought about that."

"Is that why you followed me up here? Or is it why you almost changed your mind and left?"

"Are we going to have a relationship discussion?"

"I'm trying to make a point." Walter moved behind the other man and slid his arms around his waist.

"I'm not getting it," Mulder admitted as he relaxed against his lover cautiously.

"If this is going to work..." Walter bit the back of Mulder's neck gently. "You're going to have to stop making fun of Wayne Newton."

"And you think I'm strange." Mulder grinned over his shoulder. "Let go of me, you pervert."

Walter poured himself another glass of iced tea and returned to his seat at the kitchen table. It amused him to watch Mulder doing dishes and wiping the counter. "I didn't know you had a domestic side."

"I'm not June Cleaver, but I can handle washing a few dishes."

"Are you going to put on an apron and some high heels and mop the floor for an encore?"

Mulder threw the damp cloth across the sink and came over to Walter's chair. "Only if you ask me nicely." He slid one knee between Walter's thighs and leaned over the chair with a smile. "And now . . ." He wrapped one hand around his lover's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

"Yes?" Skinner waited for the suggestion with anticipation.

"I'm going back to work."

"Now?"

"'We can't have sex twenty-four hours a day,'" Mulder quoted softly.

"Asshole."

"Sex maniac."

Regretfully, Skinner watched Mulder return to his computer. His own plans for the afternoon had been more adventurous, but he wasn't about to mention that fact now.

They spent the afternoon quietly, Mulder working at his computer and the files steadily and Skinner dismantling and cleaning a reel that had given him trouble that morning. Conversation was sporadic but comfortable. Walter wasn't surprised by the agent's total absorption in his self-imposed project. Mulder was easily the most focused man he'd ever met, capable of ignoring almost any distraction when he was concentrating on his work. All the same, Walter was disappointed that Mulder obviously preferred working to his company during this rare time together.

As the shadows stretched toward late afternoon and Mulder showed no signs of stopping, Walter decided to take the rebuilt reel out and try his luck with the fish. He gathered his equipment and stood up.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Mulder nodded, jotting down a quick note, then turning to smile at his lover. "I suppose you expect me to cook you dinner?"

"That would be a nice touch."

"I'm a lousy cook, Walter. You'd better hope Pizza Hut delivers."

"This isn't the city, Mulder. There is no Pizza Hut here. You cook, or you don't eat."

"I'll make you a deal."

"What?"

Mulder grinned challengingly. "I'll cook anything you catch."

"It's not what you catch that matters," his lover said with dignity. "It's the sport that counts."

"Some sport."

"Fuck you, Mulder."

"I came a long way to see you, Walter."

"I know you did. And yet, I've been here for hours and you haven't looked at me once."

To his credit, the agent looked embarrassed for a moment. Then he grinned wickedly. "If you're going to leave me every couple of hours, the least you can do is kiss me goodbye before you go."

"Forget it." Walter's tone was final and Mulder looked indignant.

"That's a hell of an attitude."

"I'm not falling for that. You don't know how."

"Meaning?"

"I've kissed you goodbye before. It was a lot more like hello, sailor than goodbye. I'm going fishing."

Mulder grinned at him. "Kissed a lot of sailors, have you?"

"No more than my share. Enjoy your vacation."

"I'm trying to."

Mulder was still deeply involved when the other man returned several hours later. The agent smiled absentmindedly at him but didn't speak. Walter watched him for a minute, then shrugged and went to clean up. Stepping out of the shower a few minutes later, he was annoyed. He had expected..... They were both on vacation, he reminded himself. If Mulder chose to relax by working...well, that wasn't surprising. Except for the time he spent trying to get his boss into bed, he seemed to spend all of his waking hours on the X-Files. He pulled on some clothes and returned to the living room.

"Mulder." Skinner leaned over the back of the chair.

"Damn." Mulder twisted his head and smiled up at him. "You're finished. I was going to offer to wash your back. Or something."

"I expected something of the sort," Walter admitted. "What stopped you?"

"I was just finishing up a few notes." He turned back to the computer.

"Agent Mulder."

"Hmmm?"

"Hit 'save' and exit that file." He kissed his way along Mulder's neck slowly, smiling to himself when the agent leaned into the caress automatically.

"Hold that thought. I'm almost done here."

"I've heard that one before. I seem to remember someone offering to cook dinner."

"I didn't offer. I was ordered," Mulder corrected. "Are you telling me you caught something?"

"Don't quibble. I bought the steaks." He licked the closest earlobe experimentally and Mulder stopped typing.

"Don't tell me. I've been sitting here waiting for you all day and you really expect me to cook dinner for you?" He turned his head invitingly.

"Now." Walter kissed him, but refused to be distracted.

"I've had better offers, Walter."

"Name one," he challenged.

"Practically all of them have been better."

"If that was true, you wouldn't be here," Skinner pointed out maliciously. Mulder had a knack for getting his own way, but Walter was determined to separate the agent from his computer. He had plans for the evening that didn't include staring at the back of Mulder's head for the next four hours.

"Red or black?" Mulder gave in suddenly, smiling at his lover with a suspicious innocence.

"What?"

"Your steak," Mulder explained. "You want it red or black?"

"You'd better be kidding."

He wasn't and Walter eventually had to rescue the steaks. "I can't believe a man your age can't cook a steak."

"I warned you." Mulder took a bite and looked pleasantly surprised. "Why, Walter, I didn't know you were so domestic. Do you make your own bread?"

"Don't push your luck. You're lucky you're getting to eat at all."

"So?" Mulder looked at him expectantly.

"What?"

"What do you do around here for excitement in the evenings?"

"Relax. Read a book. Go for a walk. I'm on vacation, remember?"

"Thrilling. Don't get too comfortable." Mulder grinned maliciously. "It's your turn to do the dishes."

"I cooked."

"I don't remember that clause in the agreement. Besides, I was cooking."

Walter looked at him skeptically. "That isn't what I would have called it."

"Do you like poker? We could play strip poker."

"We could talk," Walter pointed out.

"About what?" Mulder eyed him warily. "If you're going to keep complaining about my cooking, I'd rather wash dishes."

Walter pushed his chair back. "I'll be on the porch. Relaxing. When you finish."

"I don't usually do dishes when I'm on vacation."

"How would you know? You've never taken a vacation before." Walter left quickly before Mulder could talk him into helping. He hated washing dishes.

Stepping outside, he tested the chairs on the large porch, choosing the softest one. The faint sound of Mulder rattling around in the kitchen didn't bother him at all. After a few quiet minutes, something tickled his subconscious. Noise. He frowned. No, the lack of noise from the kitchen.

"Where did you go?"

Mulder's voice came to him clearly from the bedroom. "I'm going to see what we can do about this fantasy of yours."

"The lumberjack thing? That's your fantasy." He had a sudden thought. "This doesn't have anything to do with a chain saw, does it?"

"Not that one. Just a minute . . . I've almost got them on."

Skinner was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "Do I want to ask?"

"These sexy black rubber boots you brought along."

"Don't you dare," he warned.

"Too late," Mulder claimed. "Anyhow, you know you want me to. Why else would they be here?"

"Mulder, they came with the cabin." Complete silence from the other room. He isn't really, Skinner reassured himself. As the silence stretched out into several minutes, he couldn't stand it. "What are you doing?"

"Looking in the mirror. You should see this."

"I can't believe you're in there staring at yourself in rubber boots."

"That's not all."

Oh, god. This time he was determined not to ask.

"There's more to me than a rubber fetish, Walter." He could hear the laughter in Mulder's voice, but Walter refused to move.

"I liked it better when you were working and ignoring me," he grumbled loud enough for his lover to hear.

"I've got a problem here."

"That's pretty obvious."

"The rest of this fantasy is going to require your cooperation."

"It's your fantasy, it's your problem."

"Two seconds, Walter."

Skinner stood up. "If you really have those boots on, I'm not staying."

Mulder was laying on the bed, still laughing softly. He was wearing the boots and nothing else, one hand stroking his erect cock slowly. He looked ridiculously happy and incredibly sexy.

"That does it."

"What? The reality didn't live up to your expectations?" Mulder crossed one leg over his bent knee and wiggled his foot.

"Take those damned things off."

"Love me, love my boots. Your two seconds are almost up."

He slid onto the bed and leaned against the headboard. "I'm here."

"I knew the waders would do the trick." Mulder crawled onto his lap, trapping his lover's legs between his knees, still smiling. "What next?"

"Get rid of the boots." Mulder was already working on his shirt. Walter leaned forward to let him slide it off, taking advantage of the position to plant a trail of kisses along his neck down to the sensitive nipples.

"Mmm..." Mulder stroked his neck appreciatively. "This is better than the lumberjack thing. Remind me to get a pair of these for special occasions."

"Take them off," he insisted. He ran his hands down Mulder's chest to his cock and started stroking it.

"Not a chance, Walter. The boots stay." Mulder kissed him persuasively.

"I'm not having sex with a man wearing rubber boots, Mulder. Make your choice."

"How much do you know about quantum physics," the agent asked seriously.

"What does that have to do with it?" Walter slid his hands under Mulder's ass and pulled the agent up to his knees, contemplating the erect cock bobbing in front of him.

"There's a theory that time is an illusion. That all the events in the universe happen simultaneously and that our perception of time as a series of discrete events is faulty." Mulder pushed against his hands hopefully.

"Get to the point." Skinner released him and unfastened his own pants. Mulder, intent on his explanation, stripped them off automatically and threw them onto the floor before reclaiming his position.

"If that's true, Walter, then I've always been wearing these boots and I always will be. So you've already had sex with a man wearing black rubber waders. You'd better get used to the idea."

"Mulder."

The agent wriggled against his hands again, as though he needed a reminder of what they were supposed to be doing. "Yes?"

"Remind me later to break up with you."

"Not a chance. Are we going to have sex or what?"

"The boots."

"Forget the boots, Walter. They're not important."

"That's easy for you to say. You're not looking at them."

"Neither are you." His hands closed around Walter's head. "Suck me."

"Since you asked." Walter leaned forward and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth delicately, running his tongue around it.

Oh, god . . ." Mulder shuddered and tried to pull his mouth closer. Walter pulled back, keeping his hands firmly on Mulder's hips, preventing him from moving more than slightly. He licked his way down to the base of the organ and across his balls, rolling each of them around his tongue and sucking gently. Mulder moaned and his hands tightened around his lover's head. Walter set to work in earnest, nibbling and licking the sensitive vein until he reached the head, then taking it back into his mouth and sucking firmly. He had to free one hand, making it difficult to control Mulder's frantic movements for a few seconds but it was worth the risk of gagging to feel his lover's reaction when his finger slid into his ass and scraped his prostate lightly.

"Jesus!" Mulder bucked hard, then froze to let him catch his breath. "You think I'm unpredictable. Where the hell did you get the lube?" Walter started to pull his mouth free but Mulder grabbed his head again. "Forget it, don't talk."

Sliding a second finger in to join the first, Walter set up a counterpoint rhythm to the sucking he knew would be irresistible. Mulder rocked against him, mumbling incoherently and continuously. Walter could feel him fighting the urge to bury his cock in the warm, sucking mouth and he rewarded his restraint by alternating the pressure of his tongue with a gentle scrape of his teeth. Mulder came suddenly, with a strangled cry and a final hard thrust. Walter concentrated on riding out his lover's orgasm, sucking and stroking him continuously until he stopped moving.

Mulder collapsed against his shoulder, gasping. "Christ, I'm sorry. I couldn't stop."

Walter pulled him closer and kissed his ear, waiting for him to relax. "My pleasure."

"Speaking of which . . . ." Mulder smiled. "I believe we have some unfinished business."

Walter kissed him again. "I'm not sure I'm really in the mood."

"What?" Mulder reached down and found his lover's erect cock, stroking it and making him moan softly. He grinned and ran his thumb around the head, teasing lightly. Walter shuddered and his arms tightened around Mulder's shoulders.

"Well, if you insist."

Mulder's grinned at the breathless response, stroking his lover's balls delicately. "I do. Now. Or I'm leaving."

"Is that a standard negotiating technique?"

"Don't tell me you're going to play hard to get, now?"

"I'm not." He tangled one hand in the soft brown hair and pushed Mulder onto his back, kissing him hotly. He tried to ignore the slick feel of the rubber boots. It was obvious that Mulder had forgotten all about them, his mouth greedy against his lover's, their tongues tangling and dueling for supremacy.

Walter buried his mouth against his neck, punishing it with his teeth and soothing the sting with his tongue, sucking the taste of sweat and sex from his lover's skin. He rocked their hips together until Mulder was moaning again and the pressure of his returning erection matched the urgency of Walter's movements. Sliding one hand between them, he gathered Mulder's cock against his own so that they shared the pleasure of every stroke of his hand.

"Walter . . . please . . . ." Mulder kissed him urgently. "Do it now . . ." The pleading note in the husky voice was almost Walter's undoing and he brought their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Pushing the younger man gently over onto his stomach, he groped for the forgotten lubricant and used it quickly.

"Yes . . . ." Mulder sighed in triumph when the head of his lover's cock slid past the ring of muscle and buried itself deep inside of him.

Walter waited, barely moving, until he felt Mulder's body adjust to the intrusion. "Are you ok?" Walter kissed the back of his neck.

"God, yes . . . that's incredible."

"Yes." He was moving faster now, his need overtaking him with incredible speed. "I need to . . . ."

Mulder rocked against him demandingly. "Touch me."

He wrapped one arm around Mulder's waist and closed the other hand around the erect cock. In seconds they were moving together, Walter fucking his lover desperately, lost in the feel of his body and the sound of his voice. Mulder cried out and his body clamped down on his lover's cock as his second orgasm washed over him. The additional pressure was enough and Walter came a second later, biting Mulder's shoulder to smother his own cry. Mulder's muscles milked him steadily, prolonging the moment until they both collapsed.

He pulled Mulder's head to his shoulder and kissed him briefly. "I kept seeing those damned boots." Mulder snuggled against his neck and grinned at his lover unrepentantly.

"We'll have to try it with leather sometime."

"Forget it."

"Speaking of boots, Walter," Mulder said hesitantly.

"Now what?"

"Can you help me get them off? I'm going to fall asleep."

"Your boots. Your problem."

"Come on, you aren't really going to make me sleep in these things are you?" He sounded outraged.

Walter kissed him and whispered, "Quantum physics."

****

"Are you coming with me?"

Mulder scowled, still half-asleep. "Walter, do you know what time it is?"

"It's morning."

"Barely. Come back to bed."

"Do you realize we had this exact conversation yesterday morning?"

"We're going to keep on having it until you get the ending right."

"I came up here to go fishing."

"That was before I made you a better offer." Mulder kicked off the blankets and padded over to him, completely comfortable in his nudity.

"I'm not convinced it's a better offer." Walter resisted for almost two seconds before he kissed him.

"I'd be happy to persuade you." Mulder slid his hands inside the loose shirt and smiled at him.

"I'm sure you would."

"Come back to bed." Mulder pushed his shirt off and ran his hands down his lover's back slowly, tracing the muscles along the spine and lingering around the curve of his ass.

"I thought you were going to persuade me," Walter pointed out.

"You're most persuadable when you're naked." Mulder grinned at his expression.

"I see." He slipped out of his clothes quickly and pushed the agent toward the bed. "We're being romantic again."

Mulder pulled him down and wrapped his arms around him. "One of these days, Walter . . . ."

"What?"

"I'm going to do something appallingly, hopelessly romantic to you." He ran one finger down his lover's jaw and along his lips.

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Your choice." Mulder lay there, watching his face for a moment. "Walter?"

"Yes?" He was drowning in the hazel eyes. At that moment, he would have promised him anything.

"Don't talk." His voice was soft and husky.

They made love slowly, lost in the novelty of having unlimited time to spend with each other. Afterwards, Mulder pulled his lover's head to his shoulder and kissed his cheek before they both drifted back into sleep.

****

They woke very late and Mulder made a production out of fixing brunch.

"Don't even think about it." Walter had to keep a close eye on him to prevent his lover from adding a variety of weird and unlikely ingredients to the omelets.

"My mother always added a teaspoon of Dijon mustard for each egg."

"You're lying. I've read your personnel file. There's no documented insanity on either side of your family. Until you."

"That was uncalled for. How about olives?"

"Green or black," he asked suspiciously.

Mulder closed the refrigerator door. "Fine. Ham and cheese. You know, you're as conservative in your personal life as you are in the office."

"Hardly that. It's just that any time you're cooking, I worry about my future."

"Are you maligning my domestic skills?"

"You said it yourself. You're no June Cleaver."

"I've got news for you, Walter. Not even June Cleaver was June Cleaver."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She was doing the milkman, you know."

"That's disgusting, Mulder. Leave it to Beaver is an American institution."

"The only character I ever really liked was Eddy Haskell," Mulder admitted.

"Figures. Are you done burning those eggs yet?"

"Just about." Mulder slid the food onto plates and handed one to his lover. "Remember, the first one to complain does all the dishes for the rest of the week."

"It looks . . . ." Skinner stared at the plate doubtfully. "Marginally edible."

"Dishes," his lover announced triumphantly.

"That wasn't a complaint," Walter objected. "Merely an observation."

"I see dishpan hands in your future, Walter."

In the end, the shared the kitchen duties. "What's on the schedule?" Mulder rinsed a plate carefully and set it in the drainer.

"Well, it doesn't look like I'm going to get any fishing in today."

"Give the fish a break, Walter. You've been terrorizing them for days."

"I get the feeling that the art of fly-fishing doesn't thrill you."

"Art? Sculpting is art. Painting is art. Fishing is a sport. A pointless one."

"Fly-fishing is an art form, Mulder."

"You're not going to get lyrical on the subject, are you, Walter? Because, if you are, I do still have some files to work on."

Skinner looked insulted. "Forget it, then."

"OK, forget the fish. Did you have other plans for the day?" Mulder tried to leer suggestively but gave it up as too much work. They were on the porch, settling into the old-fashioned swing. Walter looked at it doubtfully before he sat down. He started to speak, then hesitated and glanced at his lover.

"What?" Mulder didn't miss the look. "If it's the thing with the boots again, I'm going to pass. I never realized that thing about you and rubber and I don't think it's right to encourage these aberrations."

"I still can't believe you left those damned things on." He had things to say on that subject, but Mulder interrupted him.

"What about today?"

"We're going hiking," Walter said firmly.

"Who's we kimosabe?" Mulder shook his head. "Me and Mother Nature have agreed to disagree, remember?"

"You can't sit in this cabin all day and work on that computer, Mulder. It isn't healthy. You need some fresh air and sunshine."

"Forget it. That may look like a harmless stand of trees, but I know for a fact that it's a deathtrap."

"I'll be there to protect you," Walter promised.

"Asshole. Anyhow, I'm getting plenty of fresh air right here. And I have work to do."

"Change your shoes," he ordered.

"Do you want to explain to my boss why I took the day off for research and don't have any results?"

"I think he might overlook it, just this once."

"Not this guy. He's an ex-Marine and you know how that type is." Mulder shook his head. "By the book, all the way."

"Trust me."

"Don't let my macho exterior fool you, Walter." Mulder didn't move. "I'm not really the back-to-nature type."

"I didn't ask you to scale a mountain," Walter pointed out. "This isn't Deliverance, Mulder. It's a simple hike through the woods."

Mulder continued to complain as he changed his shoes but he cheered up once they got started. "Maybe this isn't so bad." They walked shoulder to shoulder quietly for a few seconds.

"I told you so." Walter was enjoying the success of his maneuver to get Mulder away from his computer for a few more hours.

"Try not to spoil the moment with a lot of attitude," Mulder advised.

"Your problem, Agent Mulder, is that you're not accustomed to reality."

"I knew it," Mulder groaned.

"Pay attention," Walter told him seriously.

"I don't have to listen to this. I'm on vacation."

"Actually, you're supposed to be doing research," Walter pointed out. "And I'd be interested to know why you didn't take vacation time. The last time I looked, you had about eight weeks accumulated."

"You weren't there to approve it," Mulder said. "No one was. Seems to be one of the perks of management is leaving about two days early for a long weekend."

Walter frowned. "Jamison was supposed to be Acting for me."

"Jamison," Mulder said with scorn. "He called in with a toothache, two days in a row. His secretary said the second time, it sounded like he was treating it in a bar."

"Sometimes I wonder how that man keeps his job."

"I don't think it's appropriate for you to be dissing your peers to a lowly field agent," Mulder mentioned.

"Dissing?" Walter stopped and stared at him. "Where did you pick that up?"

"A guy I met in Los Vegas." Mulder grinned at his lover's expression. "It's a cool word, don't you think? Descriptive."

"Interesting." Walter walked on abruptly.

"The younger generation always has their own language, don't they? This kid," he glanced at Walter slyly, "couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve and I only understood about one out of every three words he said."

Walter's sudden disinterest in the subject was obvious. "As I recall, you were the subject of this conversation."

"That moment has passed, Walter," Mulder advised hastily.

 Walter ignored him. "Your problem is that you spend too much time with weirdoes."

"An interesting theory, considering the company I've been keeping for the past day or so," Mulder mentioned.

"Ghosts. Aliens. Demons. You've forgotten what the real world is like." Walter motioned toward the trees. "Look around. No bloodsucking, prehistoric mutants. Just a perfectly ordinary, normal day in the country." He released the tree branch in his hand and it promptly banged Mulder in the head. The agent stumbled back, tripped over a half-buried rock and landed on his ass. Walter stared down at him, startled by the streak of blood on one cheek.

Mulder lay where he had fallen, staring up at him calmly. "These may be trees to you, but in my reality, they're a biological weapon."

Walter offered him a hand up, which the agent rejected. He smothered a grin as the younger man brushed himself off carefully. "So it seems. Why didn't you duck?"

Mulder dabbed at his cheek and looked annoyed. "Because I didn't know you were launching that damned thing at me."

Walter cupped Mulder's chin, turning his head to inspect the scratch, then leaned over and kissed him apologetically. "Nature doesn't make a lot of allowances for someone who doesn't know when to duck."

Mulder made a production out of stepping around the trees and rocks for the next several minutes. Unfortunately, this mean stepping off the faint path which meant he kept getting entangled in the underbrush. Walter watched in silence until Mulder's irritation evaporated suddenly.

"If you read my resume, no where does it say "loves the great outdoors, he said apologetically.

"I'll keep that in mind when I schedule my next vacation," Walter promised. "I'm sure the fly-fishing is excellent in downtown DC." Mulder grinned, but declined to pursue the topic. Walter found himself wondering exactly where the other man would choose for a vacation. An hour later they were seated under a tree next to the spot he'd been fishing for the past few days. Walter had deliberately taken the longer way to the spot which was actually less than a quarter of a mile from the cabin.

Mulder looked around curiously. "So, this is the spot."

"Yeah. This is it." Walter leaned against the tree, squirming until he found a comfortable position. He watched Mulder check out the peaceful clearing.

"I'm hungry."

"We just ate."

"I made lunch before we left," Mulder said. "It's waiting for us at the cabin."

"I think I'm afraid to know."

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." He sounded too casual and Walter eyed him suspiciously.

"We didn't have any peanut butter."

"I know." Mulder avoided his eyes, grinning. "I used ham instead."

"You made ham and jelly sandwiches?"

"Grape jelly. I don't expect you to appreciate it."

"That's just as well."

"You know, I've been thinking." Mulder leaned against his lover's chest. His head fit perfectly into the curve of Walter's neck in this position.

"I thought you might have been."

"That guy you're going out with is kind of an asshole sometimes."

Walter leaned his cheek against Mulder's head and closed his eyes comfortably. "I suppose he is."

"Why don't you dump him and go out with me instead," Mulder invited.

"I don't think I could do that."

"No?"

"No."

"Well," Mulder stretched slightly and relaxed. "Don't ever say I didn't offer. What's for dinner tonight?"

"Get your mind off of your stomach. Besides, it's your turn to cook. Or we could go out." He could feel Mulder grinning against his shoulder.

"I saw some frozen pizza in the freezer. But I didn't see any restaurants in that so-called town I drove through."

"I don't want to hear any stories about something disgusting that happened to someone who ate frozen pizza once. We could go to a party," Walter offered.

"I wouldn't do that. Anyhow, I don't know any." Mulder sounded insulted. "What party?"

"I've never noticed you being hampered by a lack of facts in the past."

"There you go again, getting your personal life and your professional life confused. I've had to warn you about that before. What party? "

"I'll try to break the habit. Some Canadians renting a group of cabins a couple of miles away. I've been seeing them down here for the past few years and they always do a big barbecue for everyone around on their last night."

"A party?" Mulder sounded thoughtful. "Well, at least I won't have to listen to you complain about my cooking."

"And I won't have to eat it."

Mulder smothered a grin and said, "That's the thanks I get for slaving over a hot stove."

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches don't involve cooking," Walter told him calmly.

"You think about your stomach too much." He turned his head to look at the stream. "Walter?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to ravish your naked body right out here in front of God and everyone."

"What's stopping you?"

"I think I'm going to fall asleep again." He snuggled closer and Walter's arms tightened around him.

"You can make it up to me later."

"I will," Mulder promised lazily. "Right after dinner."

Walter didn't know which of them finally fell asleep first, just as he wasn't sure what woke him up a couple of hours later. He did know he had a crick in his neck, there was a knot in the tree making a permanent home in his spine, and his lover was a heavy and reassuring weight in his arms.

"Mulder."

"Hmmm," was the sleepy response.

"This is interfering with my fishing."

"It's supposed to. I'm getting kickbacks from the game warden to keep you from disturbing the balance of nature here."

"This tree isn't that comfortable."

Mulder shifted some weight off his shoulder but didn't sit up. "Sounds like a personal problem. Feels good from here."

"Get off of me before I dump you on your ass."

Mulder groaned and sat up slowly. "You had to wake me up didn't you? I was having a great dream."

"If it was the one about Lana Turner I'm not in the mood to hear it."

"No, not that one. You would have liked this one. You were in it."

Walter looked at him suspiciously. "I was?"

"Yeah. We were on a big boat. I was wearing a sailor suit and you were . . . ."

"Don't go there, Mulder."

"You don't want to hear it?"

"No. And I'm warning you. If you show up at my door wearing a naval uniform one of these days, I'll throw you off the balcony."

"No, you won't." Mulder turned him around and started rubbing the back of his neck. working out the stiffness.

"You keep telling yourself that. Let's go," he said.

"My feelings are hurt."

"I'm not listening to your degenerate dreams, Mulder. I've told you that before."

"Something tells me you aren't going to eat your sandwich when we get home, either. You're a difficult man to please," he complained.

Walter climbed to his feet, groaning softly at the pain in his back. "If you require me to eat a ham and grape jelly sandwich to prove my devotion, you're going to have to live in doubt for a while longer."

"I'm not sure it will keep for long. Anyhow, all the ingredients are edible. How bad can it be?"

Mulder was rubbing his neck again and it felt great. Walter could almost move without feeling as though his head would fall off his shoulders. "I refuse to eat that thing without getting a qualified medical opinion first."

"Either way, I'll bet next time you don't forget the peanut butter." Mulder's hands slid down and started working along his spine.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't have eaten peanut butter either." Walter leaned into the pressure. Mulder had unexpectedly great hands and a talent for massage.

"Twenty-five years ago, no one had cholesterol problems, Walter," Mulder lectured. "Then some wiseguy scientist who wanted to make a name for himself invented the idea. Ever since then, people have been having problems with high cholesterol. Do you see a pattern here?"

"No," Walter said absently. At they headed toward the cabin, he was wondering if he could talk his lover into administering a more thorough back rub on the comfortable bed.

"Ignore your cholesterol count, Walter," Mulder advised. "Sneer at it. Sweep it under the rug. Live a little."

"This from a man who thinks half a gallon of rocky road ice cream is a nutritious meal," Walter scoffed.

"You should talk. I'm not the one who's having ham and grape jelly for lunch."

"You could be replaced, you know."

"You'd have trouble finding anyone who cooks the way I do." Mulder pinched his ass then stepped out of reach, grinning. "Besides, if you kick me out now, you won't have a date for the party tonight."

"There is that, of course."

****

It was almost dark by the time they made it to the barbecue and the party was in full swing. This had become a major social event for the end of the summer and most of townspeople were there.

The two men were soon separated by the crowd, Walter stopping every few feet to exchange a few words with someone while Mulder worked his way to the edge of the clearing that held the three cabins. When Walter spotted him an hour or so later, he was involved in an animated conversation with a young woman he didn't recognize. Mulder was waving around a handful of barbecued ribs, obviously illustrating some point in his story. If he wasn't careful, he'd be covered in the thick, sweet sauce by the time he finished eating. Relieved to see Mulder enjoying himself, Walter turned his attention back to his friends.

He went looking for Mulder again a couple of hours later, more than ready to leave the party. With over a hundred people mingling around in the firelight in front of the three cabins, it took him a while to cover the area. He was annoyed when he couldn't find the younger man in any of the laughing, talking groups that covered the large clearing. Finally some instinct led him around to the one quiet corner in the clearing, behind the far cabin.

He was slightly surprised to see Mulder was still talking to the same young woman he had been with earlier in the evening. The agent was leaning against a tree, smiling down at the woman who was curled up in a hammock. Watching the two of them, he realized he was getting irritated. Walter was certain Mulder had some very good reason for monopolizing the attention of a very attractive young woman in a deserted corner of the clearing. He was even willing to be convinced that Mulder's shirt had a good reason for being draped over a tree branch instead of on his body.

He walked over to the two, smiling at the young woman casually and at Mulder somewhat less warmly. "Ready to leave?"

Mulder's companion jumped up from the hammock and smiled at both men equally. "I'd better get back to the party. It was nice to meet you. Don't forget to send me that information, OK?"

"I won't," Mulder promised her. She smiled again, then disappeared back around the corner of the cabin toward the noisy party.

"Been enjoying yourself?"

Walter's voice was calm and Mulder couldn't see his face in the shadows. "Yeah, actually. Very interesting conversation, you should have been here."

"No doubt. I assume your clothes just started falling off in the heat of the moment, as it were?"

"I knew you were thinking that," Mulder accused. "You always think the worst."

"You do provide the opportunities," he said coolly.

"If you must know, I was being eaten alive by these damned mosquitoes and she offered me some Deep Woods Off." Mulder looked righteous. "Now, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"Since when does mosquito repellent require undressing?"

"Hey, it's a new shirt, remember? I didn't want to ruin it."

"Unlikely. Which, coming from you, means it's probably true."

"I'm not feeling entirely vindicated here."

"Put your clothes back on, Agent Mulder."

Mulder pulled the shirt over his shoulders. "I still think you owe me an apology."

Walter surprised him by leaning over and kissing him lightly. Mulder started to lean into the embrace but Walter sniffed audibly and backed away.

"Shit. That stuff stinks."

"It's supposed to," Mulder said patiently. "That's what keeps off the mosquitoes."

"It's going to discourage more than just the bugs."

Mulder grinned slightly at his lover's grumpy tone. "Yeah, I had a feeling it clashed with my aftershave."

"You smell like an exterminator's wet dream," he complained.

"That's a fairly vulgar remark to make in the middle of a family party."

Walter ignored the complaint. "Who's your new playmate?" He hooked one finger in the belt loop of Mulder's jeans and pulled the younger man into the shadows with him.

"A budding geneticist." Mulder grinned knowingly. "We had a fascinating discussion about inbreeding."

"Whose idea it was for you to start taking your clothes off in the middle of the back yard? Or were you providing research samples?"

"Hey, I was just trying to make myself popular with your friends."

"One of them, anyhow. Although I don't believe I know the young woman. The two of you seemed to get along pretty well."

"This jealousy thing you do is kind of cute." Mulder smiled lazily, watching Walter watching him button his shirt. "That little possessive streak you try to hide. Makes me wonder what else you're hiding under that iron man persona."

"Don't get carried away. I just think you should make a habit of keeping your clothes on in public places." Walter pinched Mulder's ass sharply and grinned at his quiet yelp.

"Hey, watch that." Mulder backed against the cabin cautiously. "Just because I let you take me to a party doesn't mean you can get fresh with me. I'm not that kind of guy."

"The hell you're not." Walter looked around quickly, then leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss.

"Okay, maybe I am." Mulder grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to be sure you remember who you're with."

"My memory is getting fuzzy. Maybe you'd better remind me again." Walter shook his head and Mulder looked disappointed. "This setup isn't ringing any bells with me. Maybe I'd better go look around. I know that macho guy who brought me to the party is here somewhere."

Walter cupped one hand behind his lover's head and gave him a quick, hard kiss. "Don't even think about cruising this party," he warned, forcing back a smile. He located one of Mulder's nipples through the soft flannel shirt and tweaked it gently to attention.

"If you insist. But if you want to be sure, maybe you should try a little insurance." Mulder hooked his finger in the edge of Walter's shirt and pulled him closer. "Tell you what. One real kiss and I promise I'll behave."

"According to you, you're the picture of innocence already," Walter pointed out, but he didn't object to Mulder's arms around his waist. They both knew it was crazy to fool around here, where anyone could see them at any moment.

"Actually, yes. I've been remarkably well-behaved all evening." Mulder batted his eyes flirtatiously, laughing at Walter's expression. "Now, I want to be kissed."

Walter started to answer, then gave up. Threading his fingers through his lover's soft hair, he initiated a slow, devastating kiss that made Mulder moan eagerly against his mouth.

"I knew you could probably do it if you put your mind to it." He arched his neck to let Walter trail kisses up to his ear, his hands stroking Walter's back encouragingly.

"That bug spray tastes like shit too. I'm probably being poisoned." Walter abandoned Mulder's neck abruptly. This was getting out of hand.

"The things we do for love." Mulder smiled slightly. His eyes were already getting that sleepy, unfocused expression that made Walter ache with the need to be alone with his lover. He couldn't resist chewing on Mulder's lower lip slightly.

"This tastes like barbecue sauce."

"I'm a veritable buffet this evening. Do you like barbecue sauce?"

"I'm crazy about it. Are you ready to get out of here yet?"

"Oh, I don't know. I understand there's going to be home-made ice cream later. Maybe we should wait for that," Mulder teased.

"I guess it would be a shame to miss fresh strawberry ice cream," Walter said thoughtfully. He ran one finger along the length of the brass zipper on Mulder's jeans slowly, then stroked the tell-tale bulge firmly, running another path of kisses along his lover's neck.

"Ooh," Mulder shivered. "I think I have a better idea."

Walter bit his earlobe and ran his tongue around the shell of his ear delicately. "Do you?"

"Let's go home and do something kinky."

"We did something kinky last night. You were wearing rubber, remember," he teased.

"Enough about the boots, Walter. That was a long time ago."

"Seems like it, doesn't it?" He was still running his hand along the front of Mulder's jeans and the other man moaned softly. "You sure you want to pass on the ice cream?"

"Pretty sure."

"I just want to be positive. After all, home-made strawberry ice cream...." Walter squeezed gently and Mulder gasped and arched his back.

"I'm positive if you keep messing with me, this is going to end right here," Mulder mentioned breathlessly.

Walter released him abruptly. "Well, I think we've pretty well established that you remember who you're supposed to leave with," he said smugly.

"Asshole," Mulder grumbled as he shifted his too-tight jeans carefully.

"You didn't really think we were going to do it here?"

"I could hope. No one likes a tease, Walter."

Walter pushed him toward the car, smiling slightly. "You do."

Walter was careful to thank their hosts for inviting them to the party. They all made casual plans for getting together the next year, then he was free to follow Mulder to the car.

Mulder occupied the passenger's seat silently until the lights and noise from the crowded clearing disappeared behind them. "I have another idea."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Mulder slid toward him and started stroking his lover's thigh firmly. "How long has it been since you necked in the back seat of a car, Walter?"

"Forget it, Mulder. We'll be back at the cabin in fifteen minutes."

Mulder looked at him speculatively. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt slowly. "I had a nice time at the party."

Walter tried to ignore him.

"It was nice of you to get all dressed up and take me out." He slid the shirt off and threw it into the back seat.

Walter pulled the car off the road and slammed on the brakes. "What the hell are you doing?" Mulder stretched out slightly and smiled at him..

"Trying to show you my appreciation."

Walter draped one arm over the steering wheel and looked at him serenely. "If you really want to show your appreciation, you're going to have to do better than that."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Just how appreciative are you feeling?"

Mulder narrowed his eyes, then grinned and unzipped his jeans. "Something like this, maybe?"

"It's your choice," he answered calmly, not moving.

Mulder kicked off his shoes and slid out of the jeans, laughing softly. "I knew you couldn't resist."

Walter threw the jeans into the back seat and leaned back against the car door. "Is that it?" He eyed the boxer shorts pointedly until his lover gave in and slipped them off. They joined the rest of Mulder's wardrobe in the back seat. Walter looked his lover over calmly, taking his time. Although the younger man made an almost irresistible picture, leaning against the dark upholstery, he had no intention of fulfilling this particular fantasy.

After a minute, Mulder started squirming uncomfortably. "Well?"

"Time to move on." Walter dragged his eyes away, started the car and pulled back onto the road.

Mulder glared at him. "You have to be kidding."

"No."

"Shithead."

Walter raised his eyebrows. "I warned you about keeping your clothes on in public places."

Mulder started to retrieve his jeans from the back seat, then thought better of it. Leaning against the door so that Walter couldn't help seeing him every time he turned his head, he asked casually, "What are you going to do if we get pulled over?"

"You should have thought of that before you started this. Are you going to put your pants back on?" The only thing that kept Walter from pulling back off the road was the knowledge that every one of the 100 people at the barbecue would be traveling this road back to town at any minute.

"I don't think so. Actually, I'm finding this to be a major turn-on, aren't you?"

"You can't drive down a public road in the nude, Mulder."

"Watch me."

*I will be,* Walter realized, swearing to himself. He tried to ignore his naked passenger but Mulder made a show of squirming around in his seat and running his hands along his chest, complaining about the heat. When they reached the cabin Mulder was halfway into his lap and Walter was about to go crazy trying to concentrate on driving along the moonlit country roads.

By the time they were out of the car, Walter had his shirt off and was kicking off his shoes. "Get over here," he insisted.

Mulder grinned evilly and crossed around the car to stand in front of him. "Now you're in a hurry?"

Pushing him against the car, Walter kissed his lover mercilessly, grinding their hips together and sucking his tongue. "No one likes a tease, Mulder."

He urged the younger man onto his knees and stepped back to drag off the rest of this clothes. Mulder stretched out on his back, perfectly comfortable as the moon illuminated every inch of his naked body and created erotic shadows around his erection. Walter blessed the absent owners of the cabin for going to the expense of having the soft turf laid around the isolated cabin as he dropped down and gathered his lover into his arms for a kiss.

"You might want this." Mulder handed him a small tube of lubricant.

"Where the hell were you keeping that?"

Mulder smirked. "Trade secret."

"Right." Walter took the tube and stared at it in confusion. Then he eyes his lover's naked body in confusion for a moment, before he shrugged and flipped open the tube. He used a generous portion to ease his finger into Mulder. Deliberately prolonging the moment, he moved his hand slowly, watching Mulder with anticipation. Mulder yielded to him completely, moaning softly and rocking against the searching fingers, his eyes dark and heavy in the moonlight. Finally, Mulder slid one long leg over his lover's shoulder and wrapped the other around his waist.

"Now, Walter."

He replaced his hand with the head of his cock and pushed inside Mulder's body with an agonizing, tantalizing slowness, burying himself completely in the hot warmth. Mulder whimpered and his leg tightened against his lover's back. He sighed in satisfaction when Walter paused to let him adjust to the sensation, and leaned in for a kiss. "Ready?"

He took Mulder's smile as an invitation and started moving slowly. His lover pushed against him eagerly and they were moving together almost immediately. Their hands clashed and tangled as they both reached for Mulder's cock and together they stroked it in time with Walter's movements.

Walter wrapped his free hand around Mulder's leg and fucked him harder and faster, feeling his lover's approaching climax in his shaking body. Mulder whimpered, then his body stiffened and he cried out Walter's name, coming against the pressure of their hands around his cock. Walter froze for a moment, then pulled Mulder's hips up and thrust into him again, feeling the pressure shudder and break inside of him and his own climax pour into his lover's trembling body.

****

The next morning, Mulder woke up in a quiet mood that lasted through breakfast until they sat on the big porch, watching the rain that had moved into the area. He curled up next to Walter on the padded porch swing, resting his head peacefully on the broad shoulder.

"What's going on with you?" Walter shifted his position slightly and pulled his lover closer.

"Nothing. Why?"

"You've barely said a word all morning."

"You don't like me to talk all the time," Mulder pointed out calmly.

"Since when do you listen to me?"

"I listen." Mulder hesitated a moment, then said, reluctantly, "I have to leave this afternoon."

Walter felt a stab of disappointment. "You didn't tell me that. I thought...."

"Scully called yesterday while you were in the shower. We're leaving town tonight."

"Another case? Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"I didn't want to spoil the magic of the moment." He hesitated. "She said if I happened to run into you, to tell you she hoped you were having a good time on your vacation."

He didn't move. "I didn't know you told her about us."

"I didn't. She's a highly trained Federal investigator." Walter could feel Mulder watching him closely. "She isn't going to tell anyone Walter. And she was bound to find out sooner or later."

"I know." Walter wanted to ask him to stay. Tell him the case would still be there in a few days. But that was impossible. He sighed heavily.

Mulder grinned. "Are you asking yourself again why you put up with me?"

"I figured that one out." Walter traced the line of Mulder's jaw with one slow finger. "I'm hoping for a medal."

"You're going to have to explain that."

"As a public servant, it's my duty to protect the population from lunatics. I'm just keeping an eye on you for the public good."

"That's very noble of you," Mulder commended. "Now all we have to do is figure out why I put up with you."

"That's obvious." Walter rubbed his lover's neck firmly, smiling when the agent's head automatically fell forward to allow him better access.

"You have a theory about that, too?"

"It's the great sex." He slid his hands inside the collar of Mulder's shirt, pushing it out of the way so he could kiss his shoulders.

"We think a lot of ourselves today, don't we," Mulder teased.

"It was good enough to make you chase me all the way up here," Walter pointed out smugly.

"I just didn't want to waste the shirt." Mulder shifted his weight slightly and Walter transferred his attentions to his neck and throat, biting him just hard enough to provoke a soft moan and a shiver of reaction. He unbuttoned the soft shirt impatiently and slid his hand inside.

"I have an idea." Mulder tasted faintly of soap and rainwater and he smelled like sex so Walter bit his neck again, harder this time, just for the pleasure of feeling him squirm.

"God, I hope so." He slid up across Walter's lap, resting his head against the arm of the swing and smiling happily.

"This is not one of your more attractive qualities, Agent Mulder." He tugged gently at the zipper on the tight jeans, pulling it down and resting his hand lightly on the mound of his lover's erection.

"What?" Mulder pushed against his hand slightly. "This?"

"No." Walter stroked him gently, once, watching the hazel eyes darken with pleasure. "Your complete willingness to lay there and let me do all the work."

"Oh. That." Mulder grinned at him. "Think of it a management potential. 'The ability to delegate routine tasks is an important part of a manager's position,'" he quoted.

"You're telling me you're bucking for a promotion?"

"Think about it, Walter. We could go to meetings together. Do lunch."

"God forbid."

"You don't sound as though the idea appeals to you. Just think. Private conferences. Late evenings in the office. Weekend seminars." 

"Somehow, Agent Mulder, I have a feeling that your idea of appropriate overtime activities doesn't match the Bureau's." 

"Be creative, Walter. This could be fun."

"One of us has to show some restraint," he pointed out

Mulder slid up and pinned him against the back of the swing. "Restraint? I didn't know you were into bondage, Walter. This has definite potential."

"Everything gets back to sex with you, doesn't it?"

"I'm deprived. It makes me obsessive."

"You're depraved. How much is enough?" Walter leaned his head back against the cushions and his lover started kissing his neck.

"I'll let you know."

****

The end