Special Attention
by Geoffrey

Walter Skinner's hopes for a quiet evening were long gone. He sat in the living room, his evening paper set aside, and watched the one-man, one-act play Mulder was performing in the space between the front door and the kitchen.

Venting, he was. Mulder had been venting steadily for twenty minutes now; had started the minute he came in the door and not stopped for a moment. It showed in his face, which was sweaty and red with anger; and in his clothes, which were rumpled from constant pacing and gesticulating, his tie askew and jacket slipping off one shoulder; and in his stance (when he stopped moving), which was that of a man vibrating with adrenalin, on the brink of attacking the foe before him.

The trouble was, his foe was not there. Rather, Kersh stood before Mulder within his short term memory, visible only to his mind's eye. Kersh, who had summoned Mulder to his office near the end of the day and informed him that he was being transfered -- away from the X-Files and, additionally, away from A.D. Skinner's organization.

"That fucker!" Mulder swore, for perhaps the hundredth time. "He acts like this is no big deal. Taking away my life's work -- no big deal. And goddamnit, he's taking me away from you!"

His voice rose to an unstable pitch as he shouted those last words in Skinner's direction, and then he turned suddenly, to face away from the living room. It was clear he was wiping his eyes.

"Mulder."

"What."

"Come lie over my lap."

Mulder spun around to stare at Skinner. The last of his control fled, and his eyes overflowed; he blinked once and tears spilled down his face. "Why," he asked, despairing. "I haven't done anything."

"I know you haven't. Just come here." Skinner sat forward, and held out one hand to Mulder. "Please."

Mulder didn't refuse his invitation. Coming to stand before Skinner, he wiped at his face, and continued to breathe shallowly, panting. Skinner took his hand and tugged gently, and Mulder looked down at him for a few moments, and then took his hand away and moved to unbuckle his belt.

"No. It's okay," said Skinner, pulling Mulder's hands apart. "Just like this. Come on." He sat back, and Mulder anchored one knee on the sofa beside Skinner's thigh and then dropped forward, allowing Skinner's hands to guide him into position. It was awkward with Mulder fully clothed, but after a bit of pushing here, and pulling there, Mulder appeared to be comfortably adjusted into place -- physically, at least -- lying face down with his forehead resting on his hands.

But emotional comfort was yet to be achieved, so Skinner placed his broad palm over the center of Mulder's backside, and let his fingers fall into place, embracing Mulder gently. At his touch, Mulder shifted a little, and turned his face to the side, to stare at the back cushion of the sofa. Skinner slid his hand lower and began to caress, slowly and firmly, moving his hand back and forth between the halves of Mulder's bottom.

After only a minute or two, Mulder raised his head and glared back over his shoulder at Skinner.

"You can't fix everything by spanking me."

"Am I spanking you?"

He massaged the curves of Mulder's behind, sliding high now, and then around in circles to cover the entire area. Mulder gave in and lay back down, closing his eyes this time, as Skinner maintained the calming motion. "I'm not trying to fix everything," Skinner continued. "I'm trying to make you feel better."

"This is stupid."

"Hush," he soothed. "This is what works. Don't worry about it. Sometimes..." he cupped the heel of his hand against the seat of Mulder's pants, "-- you just need..." and pushed firmly, kneading his fingers into the flesh of Mulder's bottom, "-- some special attention...." He was rewarded by a soft sigh from Mulder, and a visible release of tension in Mulder's shoulders. "I don't mind giving it to you when you need it."

Mulder shifted again, this time pulling his knees slightly forward and raising his bottom higher, urgent for more contact, silently inviting Skinner to touch him in any way he wished. So Skinner moved lower to brush the tops of Mulder's thighs, and the deepest underside of Mulder's ass, pushing fingers and fabric into the center of him, and pushing harder still when Mulder, whimpering now, eagerly pushed back. But when Mulder began a humping motion, Skinner took his hand away. "No," he said, and Mulder lay still again, and Skinner placed his hand again over Mulder's backside, just resting it there lightly.

"Are you gonna do anything else?" Mulder whispered. "I don't know what this is."

"Let's just do this for a while." He ran his other hand over Mulder's back, feeling the wool, the thickness of it, and the layers of cotton underneath. "Relax." He drew his hand down the line of Mulder's spine and then turned it to rest beside his other one, laying both hands side by side across Mulder's backside, almost completely covering him. "Relax," he said again.

And Mulder did; Skinner held him there until his breathing slowed, and his arousal, barely begun, abated. Both of them silent, neither of them moving. It was tempting to let Mulder fall asleep like this, but first he had something to say. An important point to make.

"Mulder."

"Hmm."

"Where are you?"

"Hmm?"

"Where are you? Tell me, right now, where you are and what you're doing."

"Um," was all Mulder replied at first. But then he blinked his confusion away and tried to answer. "I'm at home. In our living room. Lying on the sofa. Lying over you."

"Yes. So," he began as he let one hand resume its path over the lowest curves of Mulder's behind. "...Do you really think Kersh can take you away from me?"

Mulder sighed. "No."

"Can he take me away from you? Really, can he separate us in any meaningful way? Would we ever let him? Let anyone?"

"No." Mulder sniffed, and rubbed at his eyes. Crying again, a little. Which only, Skinner thought, meant his point had been made.

"No," Skinner confirmed. "No one -- not Kersh, not anybody -- can stop us from going in the kitchen right now and fixing dinner." He pulled at Mulder to make him get up. "From making love later on." They stood, and he kissed Mulder softly, then pulled him into a warm hug. "From falling asleep together. Right?"

"Right." Mulder pressed his mouth close to Skinner's ear, and whispered, "Thanks for the 'special attention'. I really did think you were going to spank me."

He blushes so endearingly, Skinner thought. He kissed Mulder again, and then laid his own lips at Mulder's ear. "Between now and Monday morning, you still need to settle down some more. There are all kinds of 'special attention' I can give you. Things I can do that I know you'll respond to." He whispered a promise. "Wait till tomorrow."

END