Tenses

by Jas Masson





Rating: NC17 for discipline and EXPLICIT m/m sex

Disclaimer: It was my birthday a few weeks ago, and I asked my mother, but she misheard and got me a skinned fox instead (ew!)

Spoilers: I've never had a spoiler before, Paper Hearts

Notes: This is in response to a challenge by Gaby re The Persuaders' Poll. The results were that Skinner spanked Mulder at their first meeting (spankaholics!), that the ep most likely to cause a spanking was Paper Hearts and that our favorite implement is the hand. Title stolen with the utmost respect from the gracious Xanthe. Many thanks to Joey, Claire, Rachelle, Carolyn, Karen and Patti.



Past

Mulder stared dully at the floor of his hotel room.

It was over. Samantha still unaccounted for, and now a little girl surely traumatized by the days events.

And it was his fault. *His* fault.

The look of disgust on Skinner's face made him shiver, even now. He'd blown it. The best relationship of his life over because he was stupid. His fault. All of it, *his* fault.

In many ways his obsession had made him strong. Smart. Tough. So many of his achievements based on a desire to be the best he could be, just to find Samantha. His natural intelligence coupled with this determination had made him surely the best the F.B.I. had to offer. He had the ability to act completely individually and independently, without a thought for convention and other people's opinions.

In many ways it had made him weak. The slightest possibility of finding Samantha alive was a tool used again and again to manipulate him, and one he was as powerless as the twelve year old he had been when it first took him in it's grasp, to resist. It clouded his usually excellent judgment. It had prevented him from forming any type of meaningful relationship. Until now.

Now he had Scully, her friendship and respect. Now he had Skinner. *Had* had Skinner. No longer. And it was his *fault*.

He was surprised to discover a tear trailing down his nose. Without the only relationship in his life to ever make sense to him, he didn't know what he was going to do. He knew many people would be shocked by the nature of their relationship, but to Mulder, it provided a security, a haven, a balance in his life he had never known.

*Past*

Mulder looked, apprehensively at the door of the office. He had seen the new A.D. only briefly, but that glimpse had created a lasting impression.

He was an impressive man. Huge, handsome, with an air of authority that had reached out and grabbed Mulder' attention from across the parking lot.

What he had heard from eavesdropping on the discussions of other agents, who had been called in before him, had contributed to the keen curiosity Mulder had in regard to A.D. Walter Skinner. His new boss was tough. Very tough. An ex-Marine who had no time for slackers. Or for sloppy reports. Over-running budgets. Unauthorized investigations.

Mulder considered the lack of concrete results he had experienced in many of his cases and shivered in dread; not many courts agree to prosecute your average vampire misdemeanor. The condescending tone of his usual reports. The unmentionable contents of the X-Files budget. The numerous 'hunches' and 'instictive' leaps, in his defense usually correct, that occurred in the course of his investigations. Mulder was not looking forward to this meeting.

Agent Matthews had received a huge dressing down for his sins, Mulder had heard. Over a measly lack of commitment, which seemed rather meager to Mulder in the face of his own transgressions.

The X-Files were rumored to be history. Without the support of the A.D. they really couldn't continue. The previous A.D. - a friend of the Governor's - had turned a relatively blind eye. Skinner didn't seem to be a 'blind eye' kind of guy.

Well, Mulder would fight him and fight hard. The A.D. may be a bit scary, but Mulder was nothing if not determined and dedicated. No one in the investigations division worked harder than he did. He could prove numerous successes to Skinner, where even if the actual facts of the case were slightly unaccountable, the perpetrator *was* apprehended.

"You may go in now, Agent Mulder. You're next."



"Good morning, Agent Mulder."

Skinner looked just as impressive as he had before. "I've been reviewing the X-Files cases, and have a number of concerns."

Mulder's apprehension increased. Straight to the point. OK. "Sir. While the needs and challenges of the X-Files are very specialist, they are directly relevant to the department's most current investigations. Many recent cases would not have been solved without threads of evidence gathered from old files. We keep up our case-load, and have a high solve rate. You can't shut us down."

"I am aware of the case history Agent Mulder, and I feel the X-Files perform a relevant function in today's bureau."

Mulder prevented his jaw from dropping open, but it was close. "Sir?"

"My concern, Agent Mulder, stems not from the motivations behind the X-Files but rather their execution."

"Sir, Scully and I both work as hard, if not harder than, any other agent in the bureau, we..."

"Agent Mulder. Will you please stop interrupting me." A hard edge crept into Skinner's voice. "Your department is run much like this conversation. There is scant concern given to the proper channels. If you want to make the X-Files generally acceptable, you must try and work inside bureau procedure as much as possible, then, perhaps, you will lose this fear that they will be taken away from you." He met Mulder's eyes shrewdly.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder was shocked at the release of tension this sentence provoked.

"Another serious issue raised from my reading of your cases is the number of times bureau property, yourself and Agent Scully have been damaged. Your last case resulted in the loss of two cell phones, a rental car and, very nearly, your own right leg, is that not so, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder searched for the humor in the Assistant Director's expression and found it deadpan. "Yes, Sir, but the..."

"A simple 'Yes, Sir' will be sufficient, Agent Mulder." Again there was no smile. "It is clear this matter must be addressed, Agent Mulder. You appear to be quite the most talented agent in this department, yet the grasp of something as rudimentary as personal safety seems to have eluded you."

Mulder felt rather affronted by this, but his reply was stemmed by a sharp look.

"You *are* aware of my military history, Agent Mulder?"

"Yes, Sir."

"A young soldier in my own unit was quite the most promising I had seen; excellent weaponry and subterfuge skills, an amazing comprehension of tactics and strategy, but a complete disregard for his own personal safety. Our C.O. was actually able to cure it for him. While the young man in question had no concern for his ass in battle, it seemed he was much more concerned for his ass, when the consequences were literally applied to that area."

Mulder was sure he'd lost the plot of the story somewhere. "Sir?"

"A physical demonstration, Agent Mulder, of just how foolhardy his actions were. My own parents used the same method very effectively. I propose we introduce a similar system for you."

Mulder took an involuntary step backwards.

"I don't understand," although he did.

Skinner looked at him directly, and spoke seriously. "I believe it is important for the X-Files to continue. But they *must* be better run if I am to justify their continuation to the higher authorities. I am also old-fashioned enough to believe it is important to maintain the health of my agents. And old-fashioned enough to believe this is the way to achieve those objectives. A disciplinary spanking, Agent Mulder."

"No," he moved further away, shaking his head. His own parents had never touched him, that being almost the literal truth, and the idea caused his heart to pound and his breath to quicken. "The Bureau would never allow it. It's assault. *Sexual* assault. I'd report you..."

"Agent Mulder. You're right, of course. The bureau would never support it. But the bureau will also no longer continue to support the X-Files without the whole-hearted approval of the Assistant Director, and an improvement in procedure. The X-Files *will* close without these, and this is the only way I can visualize an improvement. Clearly, from your records, no amount of Bureau action has been able to achieve this. And, Agent Mulder, I assure you, a spanking can certainly not be sexual, as I learnt by experience from my own parents."

"I need more time to consider this. I can't..."

"You need to decide now, Agent Mulder. My first divisional review board as A.D. is tomorrow morning, and I will need to justify my decision to continue the X-Files."

Mulder stared at him helplessly. "I can't. I have no guarantees that you wouldn't do something more than," he struggled over the words, "spank me. I'm opening myself up to physical abuse. You could simply beat me."

Skinner looked at him directly. "You do have guarantees. You have my word. We will have mutually decided rules. You could report me at any moment if I break them. If I were simply abusing you, your body would bear the evidence, and you could have me arrested. And I'm also trusting you, Agent Mulder. I could support you publicly and officially in the X-Files for the first few months, then you could renege on our deal, putting me in a very difficult position. And you are trusting me to keep my word and support you, and not abuse the agreement we come to."

Trust. Mulder couldn't remember the last time he'd trusted anyone, let alone a perfect stranger. But he felt, surprisingly, that Skinner was genuine. The young agent made one of the intuitive leaps he was famous for, based on Skinner's appearance of utter sincerity. "It *is* a dangerous job, Sir. I don't have a safe desk job," he ventured.

"Yes. But I will evaluate whether you risked your life *unnecessarily* based on the reports I receive from you, Scully, and any other authority involved in your investigation. We will discuss any punishment required, and only for risking yourself, or others. Also, you *will* follow bureau procedure in regard to the care of bureau property, filing reports and requesting assignments, or you will be punished, although less severely."

"Do we have an agreement, Agent Mulder?"

The room was starting to spin. The day had started so normally. Now he was discussing spankings with his boss. His instinct told him it would be alright. Skinner could just have demanded...anything from him 'or lose the X-Files'; who would believe 'Spooky' Mulder over A.D. Skinner? He didn't have to explain it, or make an agreement. And the reality was, even if he felt he couldn't trust Skinner, he would have to agree to it. For the X-Files. For Samantha. his conscience left him no other choice.

He took a deep breath and met Skinner's eyes. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. We'll address your last assignment now, so you know what to expect. In regard to your failure to follow bureau procedure in filing your case request, Agent Mulder, I simply warn you to be more careful next time, in light of our arrangement. But I must address meeting an unreliable informant with no back-up, and without informing anyone of your whereabouts. You will receive 25 strokes with my ruler, does that seem reasonable?"

In truth, Mulder was unsure what was reasonable any more, but 25 swats of the rather innocuous looking ruler, although it was an 18" one, certainly wouldn't really hurt him. "Yes, Sir"

"Drop your pants, Agent Mulder, and bend over my desk."

The reality of the situation hit him suddenly, realization of the humiliating position washing over him in waves. He flushed in embarrassment.

Skinner said nothing, knowing what was going through his mind, and knowing the position was a very important way of reinforcing the lesson.

Slowly, Mulder moved over to Skinner's desk and let his pants fall down. His face flaming, he slowly bent over the desk.

"You will count aloud for me, Agent Mulder." Skinner's voice was hard, but the hand placed on the small of his back was warm, and strangely comforting.

Suddenly a line of fire made a startling impact on his vulnerably positioned ass. He gasped, shocked at how much it stung, even through the thin cotton of his boxers.

"One."

The ruler continued to fall on his defenseless buttocks as he counted aloud. He felt the stinging heat from the ruler all through his body. He'd never been spanked before, his parent's method of punishment had been much more hurtful; withholding the small amount of affection he received as a child.

His first thought when the spanking was mentioned was as a sexual activity, something forbidden. He remember illicit thrills running through him as his friends described spankings received from their parents. Now, the confusing sensations of prickly, stinging pain, the humiliating position, the warm weight of a large hand on his back and his acute embarrassment, all combined to make his nerve-endings extra sensitive. He felt tingly all over his body and the beginnings of arousal at his groin.

The building heat in his punished bottom by the tenth stroke was becoming painful, and he found it difficult to maintain his decorum, clenching his buttocks against the sting, his hips twitching, small gasps escaping him at each stroke. The embarrassed confusion and painful sensations intertwined, and he found his breath hitching in his throat, his voice wavering as he counted. At the twentieth stroke a sob escaped him, and his humiliation increased. He wiped surreptitiously at his face, not wanting Skinner to see his tears. His upturned bottom felt like it was on fire, he would never have expected a spanking to be so painful, and the heat and humiliation spread through him, carrying him on a wave of sensation.

In the back of his mind he felt a faint, surprising, feeling of... release. It felt good to be enduring something he didn't want for the X-Files, as he personally enjoyed his work immensely, independently of his search for his sister. He felt like he was suffering for something, for the X-Files, for the pursuit of Samantha, giving something more personal than just dedication to his job.

He was unable to make real sense of it at the moment, however, as he rode on waves of pain, sensation, humiliation and confusion.

Finally he sobbed out "Twenty five" and jumped out of position instantly. Skinner turned away as Mulder hurriedly rearranged himself, to give him the illusion of privacy. He pulled his pants up too quickly, hissing as the material chaffed his thoroughly chastised posterior, wiping at his face, then pausing before humiliatingly adjusting himself in his pants, just in time before Skinner turned around. Skinner looked at him, but Mulder couldn't meet his eyes.

"You've been very brave, Agent Mulder. You've shown me your commitment to the X-Files and to our arrangement. I will be supporting you and the X-Files from now on."

Mulder said nothing, but Skinner didn't really expect it. "You may go now, Agent Mulder. I hope you will keep this in mind in your future cases. I shall see you and Agent Scully together, first thing Wednesday, to discuss your latest case. Dismissed."

Mulder looked up and met Skinner's eyes for a brief moment before shooting out the door.

Skinner exhaled heavily before sitting down. He wondered if he'd done the right thing. He'd heard of Mulder long before he accepted his new position, both derogatory and complimentary remarks. Skinner was far from blind to the strange things going on behind the scenes in the bureau and the government, and he knew Mulder was a part of them. He had decided upon reading Mulder's cases that he had to support him, but also rein him in. He was out of control in a way that Skinner felt would lead to disaster either physically, personally or professionally with a real possibility of him being removed completely from the game for something as simple as bureau procedure. Skinner had made a pact with himself that he wouldn't let this happen. As much as he was able he would help Mulder in his quest against the powerful, shadowy men.

He'd decided long before meeting Mulder to implement the method most effective in his martial experience. He knew that eventually Mulder would appreciate it's straight forward directness...maybe not just now, he thought with a slight smile.

The smile faded as he remembered Mulder's face just before he fled the room. A mixture of emotions openly displayed on his flushed face that had tugged strongly at Skinner's heart. His *beautiful* face, he amended silently, before pushing the thought away. That was his problem to deal with, and he wouldn't burden Mulder with it.

He'd seen in that face a bone-deep fear that Skinner was not being honest with him, would use and betray him, an intrinsic belief that no one was really to be trusted, that eventually *everyone* would hurt him. Skinner wondered what it would take to make Mulder really trust him, and, remembering the look on Mulder's face, resolved to make absolutely certain that he realized that he now had someone on his side. Finally, and for good.



Present

Sitting in his hotel room Mulder remembered that first meeting, surprised at the feelings of contentment it invoked in him. It hadn't at the time, of course, he thought, smiling through his silent tears. He remembered leaving Skinner's office and literally running to the bathroom. He had been sure that his buttocks would be bleeding, but checking himself over he saw they were merely red. He stood in the stall breathing hard, trying to make sense of what had happened, looking in disgust at his slightly turgid cock. He told himself that it was merely a natural response to intense physical stimulus, and knew that, of course, this could easily be the case. But Fox Mulder was much too honest with himself to accept that facile explanation. He felt he would have resisted merely physical stimulus. There had been an emotional stimulus as well, a feeling of satisfaction for suffering. A sense that he needed to suffer for Samantha, for Scully, for all those he'd failed to protect. A satisfaction that finally someone would allow him to take responsibility for what he was doing, but, more than that, would allow him to work through the feelings he carried with him.

The connection he felt with Skinner helped him to address issues he'd carried with him for 20 years. He hadn't been grateful, of course. Not then.

Looking back Mulder was surprised he hadn't been more angry then; but he hadn't, not during or even after. It had all felt slightly unreal to him though, and on Wednesday, sitting opposite Skinner, next to Scully, he'd barely been able to believe it hadn't been his imagination. Skinner had treated him the same as all the other agents, except, maybe, taking slightly more interest in his cases.

He'd had to admit that following the surreal first encounter with Skinner he was paying more attention to details on his files That had yielded greater productivity, and fewer problems with other departments, particularly accounts. And, most importantly, the continual fear that the X-Files would be taken from him was stalled.

His original fears regarding their arrangement had proved unfounded. At the first loss of bureau property Mulder's gut had clenched as he reported to Skinner, but following a discussion Skinner had deemed the loss of the firearm as unavoidable and taken no further action. However, Mulder had, of course, a great deal more experience of Skinner's long ruler, of which he was now far more wary, looking back with an ironic snort at his initial response to what he had supposed to be a banal instrument. Bending over Skinner's desk following a case in which he'd made mistakes, endangered himself or others, became a blessing. Consumed with guilt or regret at another thwarted investigation, he was able to work through his emotions with the catharsis of physical discipline; when his burning ass was raised for punishment he couldn't postpone or avoid.

The initial connection he'd felt with Skinner grew gradually. Skinner always treated him with respect, he never felt belittled during or after. Skinner kept a personal touch on his back, fully discussing the relevant incident before hand, and meeting his eyes with calm reassurance afterwards.

And Mulder did, gradually, become...grateful for Skinner's involvement in his life. A friendship, based on mutual trust and respect grew up between them, and suddenly the spankings became more personal. Mulder felt closer to Skinner than he had to anyone. He compared it to his punishment from his parents as a child. By just sending him away, the disdain on their faces, their inability to discuss or address anything he did, they had always made him feel unworthy of notice. The comparison was, however, somehow incorrect. He respected Skinner and felt that even with, or perhaps because of, the spankings that Skinner respected him. Was interested in him, helped and guided him. Cared about him as a person.

And there was still that strange feeling of excitement, of arousal, *definitely* not filial. At the beginning the psychologist in Mulder had rationalized it as a reaction to an alpha-male fantasy figure. A strong, handsome, unyielding boss; he was sure fantasies abounded at being bent over the boss's desk.

However, as he came to know Skinner, his emotional and physical reactions had strengthened, based on friendship and respect, and had grown into the strongest relationship Mulder had ever had.

It was not acknowledged, of course. He barely acknowledged it personally, let alone to Skinner. Yet Mulder was too honest with himself to ignore the strength of his feelings. That's why it hurt. God, it hurt.

Skinner had been so angry when he came here, searching for Samantha. He'd never seen him so angry, and he ached to think how disappointed Skinner would be with him. *His* fault. Skinner would never take care of him again, they'd never share personal looks, personal moments, again. And it was all his *fault*.

The knock at the door startled him out of his darkening brood. "Who, who is it?" he said, trying to catch his breath and wipe his face.

"A.D. Skinner."

Mulder's heart contracted at the deep voice. His stomach felt suddenly empty. Hope and despair battled inside him. Hope that Skinner had come to help him through this, despair that the break between them, if articulated, would become irrevocable. Breathing in deeply, he opened the door.



Skinner looked closely at Mulder's ravaged face. He'd obviously been working himself into a state, and cursed that he hadn't arrived sooner.

"What are you doing here, Sir?" (Do you still care about me?) Mulder asked, his casual inquiry undermined by his tear-stained face.

"What do you think, Agent Mulder?" he asked, to determine the extent of the damage.

Mulder's face twisted in misery. "To, to tell me that you're not going to..." he searched for the word, "support me anymore." Mulder would have been surprised to know that another tear had escaped down his face.

Skinner shook his head. "You've been sitting here tearing this to pieces," he asked gently, "haven't you?" (I still care about you).

Undone by the caring tone, Mulder nodded, ignoring the fresh tears. "I thought, I thought, you wouldn't want to...help me any more, because I failed you, I failed Samantha, that little girl. My, my parents never wanted me after, after I let Samantha..."

"Enough, Fox," Skinner said, sternly. "You haven't failed anybody. There was nothing you could do for Samantha then, and nobody could have done more for her since. You stopped a murderer here, when probably no one else could. And you didn't fail your parents, they failed you." He paused, before adding quietly, "And you've never failed me, I was only so vehement about you not going because I knew what it would do to you. And I'm not your Father, Fox." Mulder looked up and their eyes met, and what had been unspoken between them for a long time passed between deep, brown eyes and teary, hazel ones again, "Not by a long way."

"So...so you still," (care about me) "want to help me?"

"Yes, Fox," neither of them had noticed when he changed to Fox. "But you disobeyed my direct instructions, put yourself and others in danger, so you must be punished. Don't you agree?"

Skinner smiled at the mixture of relief and fear on Mulder's face, as he met his eyes. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"I don't seem to have my ruler with me, so I think, as it's been a tough day, a hand spanking will suffice for now." He watched Mulder's breath expel, "But tomorrow, when you've rested, I feel my belt is warranted."

Mulder gasped, his eyes shooting up to meet Skinner's, looking for a joke, but finding only stern compassion. He opened his mouth to protest, but Skinner stopped him. "This is serious Fox. When I give you a direct order, you *cannot* willfully disobey me. And when I tell you to make sure you take care of yourself I mean both body and soul, and you failed on both counts. And, Fox, I know you're feeling extremely guilty about that little girl, and I don't think a hand, or even a ruler, will be enough for *you*."

Mulder's eyes filled with tears, as he considered the young girl again, and how he had disappointed Skinner, and nodded, dropping his eyes again.

Skinner looked around the room for a suitable place, praising silently, once again, the convenience of the office desk. The bed was too low to be bent over, the chairs too high backed and the tops of the bureau and dressing table fitted too closely to the wall for Mulder's lanky frame. He took a deep breath. The personal nature of the hand spanking was deliberately chosen to bring them closer together after Mulder's fear of a rift between them. Today, Skinner decided to take that as close as possible. He sat down on the chair. "Come and bend over my knee, Fox."

Mulder drew in a quick breath, but didn't protest, coming silently over and dropping his pants before bending over Skinner's knees. Skinner settled them as comfortably as possible and looked at the fine ass presented to his view, with the thin cotton stretching tautly over tight buttocks.

He cleared his throat. "In order for a hand spanking to be effective, I think it must be given on the bare, Fox, don't you?"

Mulder's buttocks tightened instinctively, but he whispered, "Yes, Sir," so quietly Skinner could barely hear him.

They both took a deep breath as Skinner hooked his fingers in Mulder's waistband and pulled down his shorts. Skinner evened his breathing as he stared at Mulder's naked ass, firm, tight and flawless, presented to him for punishment. Mulder flushed and shivered as the cool air wafted around his naked cheeks, making him hyper-aware of the fact that his bottom was so vulnerable, raised and exposed, just waiting to be spanked.

Skinner put his hand at the small of Mulder's back before raising the other and bringing it down hard on the center of Mulder's bare, defenseless ass.

Mulder jumped at the first stinging slap on his naked flesh, unconsciously clenching his buttocks in anticipation of the next. The hard, warm hand came down again and again, relentlessly on his bare bottom. The stinging heat spread over his tender flesh, until all his ass and the tops of his thighs were warm and stinging.

Skinner stared, mouth dry, at the sight before him. Mulder's ass was pink and rosy, squirming unconsciously in response to his hand. His own flesh stirred and he felt Mulder's cock throbbing against his lap.

The warm weight of Skinner's hand on his back, the hard, strong thighs beneath him, and the relentless, hot stinging hand on his vulnerable butt, combined with Mulder's embarrassment and awareness of his exposure, and the heat building in his tender bottom caused his cock to pulse stronger than from any previous spanking, and he was uncomfortably aware of its contact with Skinner's thighs.

The hand continued its merciless punishment of his throbbing, naked bottom. It felt as though his flesh were on fire and he squirmed, helplessly, over Skinner's lap, trying to avoid the stinging blows. Skinner concentrated on the tender undercurve of his bottom and the tops of his thighs, where he sat, and his most sensitive flesh. He gasped as the hand continue to make unerring contact with that sore, tender spot. He wriggled, but to no avail. His naked, upturned bottom perfectly positioned for Skinner to punish at will. The stinging became painful and a sob escaped him as his bottom felt aflame. His legs kicked helplessly as he writhed on Skinner's lap, his cock finding friction against his trousers, even as he tried to escape the overwhelming sensations.

Skinner's breathing labored as he continued to spank Mulder's beautiful, quivering, red bottom. He listened to Mulder's quiet sobs and watched enthralled as he wriggled charmingly over his knees. He felt Mulder's cock pulsing strongly against him, his own responding in kind. He stopped and rubbed the hot curve of Mulder's red cheeks, waiting for him to catch his breath.

"Did you deserve this spanking, Fox?" he asked gently, when he was sure he would be heard, watching as Mulder unconsciously continued to rub himself against Skinner's lap, his buttocks clenching and relaxing, trying to alleviate the sting.

"Yes, Sir," Mulder breathed, sniffing. Skinner patted the hot flesh affectionately. "Good. Now just six more and it's all over for today."

"Oh, no, Sir!" Mulder cried in shock, "No more, please. I've had enough, really. I, oh!"

He was stopped by a sharp slap on his thigh. "I think that's for me to say don't you? Six more and then it's over. Be brave, Fox."

"Yes, Sir," he sniffed. Skinner raised his hand again and brought it down as hard as he could on Mulder's waiting, trembling buttocks.

Mulder didn't try to stop his cries at each swat, surprised at how the need to cry out was so demanding. While the ruler usually had him in tears, it never got under his defenses like this.

Finally it was over, and Mulder lay panting and trembling over Skinner's lap, reveling in the feeling of Skinner's warm hand rubbing his quivering, tender flesh soothingly.

Skinner finally let him up, and to his surprise held him sitting on his lap in his arms, hugging him close. Usually Skinner allowed him the distance he needed to collect himself, but today he held him near. Mulder was struggled for a moment, but was helpless to resist the strong arms and collapsed into the hug, tears starting again as the release of the day's tension hit him. He didn't know how long Skinner held him like that, muttering soothing words and stroking his hair until he calmed. The gratitude he felt, safe in Skinner's strong embrace, could only be expressed in one way, and suddenly he raised his tearstained face, his lips searching blindly for Skinner's.

He found them, Skinner's mouth opening in surprise as their lips made sweet contact. His lips were soft but firm, and he tasted of every good thing Mulder had ever known. Skinner started in surprise as the beautiful mouth that had been a staple of his dreams for so long found his. Mulder's lips were soft and full and he tasted so sweet; the tender, open mouth and shyly questing tongue feeling like heaven.

After a moment Skinner remembered to return the kiss, hungrily searching for more of Mulder's sweet taste. The tone of the kiss changed, becoming more demanding as Skinner took control, Mulder feeling a wave of sweet submission rolling over him. They kissed for a long time before Skinner became aware of Mulder's naked erection pushing demandingly against him. He broke the kiss, touched to the core by the look of shocked disappointment on Mulder's open face. He swiftly dropped a consoling kiss on wet, parted, slightly swollen lips, before laying Mulder down gently and removing his remaining clothes. Mulder lay still underneath him, but his flushed, tear-stained face and deep eyes held an unmistakable invitation.

Stroking Mulder's face gently before moving away, Skinner stood up and removed his own clothing, watching Mulder's face as he took in every inch of Skinner's large, muscular frame. Their eyes met, questions asked and answered with smiles, before Skinner laid down beside Mulder and covered his lips with his own again.

This time as he drank deeply from Mulder's mouth he stroked Mulder's hard, quivering cock, swallowing the whimpers it produced as Mulder pressed harder into his hand. Mulder reached for him, but Skinner pushed his hand away before drawing back to take in the vision before him.

Mulder's face was flushed and his smooth chest rose and fell as he panted for air, his cock thrusting demandingly from a nest of dark curls, pulsing and damp, begging for attention. Skinner smiled as he traced his hand over Mulder's chest, smiling as his breath hitched as fingers made rough, but fleeting, contact with tight, sensitive nipples.

He pushed Mulder's knees up and spread them, glad to see Mulder holding the position as he pulled back. He struggled for breath as he stopped to admire the tempting view of the red curve of buttocks and the tight entrance to Mulder's body.

He licked his fingers before finally reaching for Mulder's desperate cock. He pumped roughly, looking deeply into Mulder's eyes and he was carried away on sensation. He switched his hand suddenly, his fingers, wet from his mouth and Mulder's desperation, sought and found Mulder's tight hole. Mulder's whimpers became more frantic and his head thrashed from side to side as Skinner found his way into the tight heat of his body, searching for and finding the prostate. An unearthly sound issued from his throat as Mulder rode desperately on his fingers, thrusting to get them as deep inside him as possible, before moving back into Skinner's hand.

Skinner stroked him internally until the sensations overwhelmed him and he came, howling his pleasure. Skinner stroked his hair waiting for him to come back to himself. Their eyes met. Mulder's voice was hoarse, "Do you want me?" he asked (Do you love me?).

Skinner's smile was tinged with a sadness Mulder couldn't identify, "Yes, I want you." (I love you.)

Mulder pulled his head down for a deep, wet kiss, before turning over and spreading his thighs. Skinner's throat constricted as he looked at the sight offered to him. Tight, hot, red buttocks parted for his pleasure, and his cock pulsed insistently. "Oh, yes, I want you," he whispered, (I love you).

He had no lubrication so he went very slowly, taking great pleasure from watching his fingers, lubricated only with saliva and Mulder's release, pushing in and out of Mulder's eager hole, between his firm, punished cheeks. Finally Mulder could stand it no longer, his own cock pulsing again, and he begged Skinner to take him. Skinner groaned against Mulder's neck as he pushed into his hot, tight body. He went slowly, but as Mulder pushed back into him his hips thrust hard of their own accord, causing them both to moan.

He thrust into Mulder deeply, bringing them both to the point of release with his strong, driving cock, before reaching around him and taking Mulder's throbbing organ in his hand. They both came hard, and Skinner gritted his teeth to keep forbidden words from escaping, while Mulder's tears were soaked up by the pillow.

They lay together naked on Mulder's bed, with every part of their bodies they could manage in contact. And when Mulder fell asleep, exhausted from the day, and Skinner slipped from his body he swore he'd left a piece of his heart behind.



Future

He woke slowly, an inch at a time. He knew he wasn't alone, but there was no panic, none of his normal paranoia; he knew exactly whom he was with. The big, warm body was a solid wall of comfort around him and he snuggled even closer, if that were possible. He felt warm, safe and utterly content just feeling the security of the strong arms that held him. Until he started thinking.

The night before played back in his head like a dream. He remembered Skinner's warm eyes and strong hand. The fingers that had so gently prepared him. He shivered. The eyes had been gentle and caring, true, but...it had been a highly charged moment of nearly overwhelming intimacy. It was probably just a case of one thing leading to another. He'd had made the first move. Literally thrown himself at Skinner.

Oh God, he groaned in embarrassment as it all came back to him, what would Skinner think of him? He knew for sure that Skinner would be extremely uncomfortable when he remembered what had happened. He was certain the A.D. wouldn't want to risk a repeat performance. What must Skinner think of him? He would probably never want to touch him again, never want to *see* him again! He'd be polite, but, Mulder was sure, he'd back away. Who'd want a subordinate lusting after you at work? Calf-eyes over the desk; melancholy, love-lorn sighs in the board-room; declarations of undying love in the office corridor. It could become terribly annoying.

Mulder sniffed back a tear, trying to push his feelings behind his humor, weak though it was at the moment. He sighed, then inhaled deeply, taking in the reassuring, clean smell, knowing that he'd never forget it. He started to move slowly out of the comfort of the strong arms.

He'd moved only about an inch when those same arms tightened around him. "And where do you think you are going?"

Mulder was nonplussed. He'd thought to make it easier on Skinner and now they were going to have an embarrassing scene after all. Well, not if he could help it. "I was just going to get packed. I really should be going if I want to get back by lunchtime, and, you know, as my boss, I think you really should encourage me." He turned around and moved back slightly, away from Skinner and offered up one of his trademark, cocky half-smiles.

Skinner sighed as he looked closely at the younger man in his arms. The bottom half of his face had the confident almost-smirk of an assured young professional, certain of his position. A look that Skinner had seen countless times across his desk. What worked so well in the board room, however, was not so effective in the bedroom. The top half of Mulder's face, was in direct conflict; those expressive hazel eyes were shadowed, unhappy and suspiciously full.

For Christ's sake! Skinner told himself, if anyone should be insecure here, surely it should be him? Mulder was beautiful, smart and fascinating, while he was, God, so much older, bald, wore glasses...he shook himself mentally. He was starting to sound like Mulder. Maybe it was catching? Skinner didn't have much faith in his looks, but he had faith in his heart and in Mulder's eyes.

"We have unfinished business, don't we?"

"Do we?" Mulder's heart soared, even as his voice shook slightly.

"We said that in the morning we'd deal with your actions properly, didn't we?"

"Oh." Mulder's heart plummeted. His eyes filled and he looked away hastily, unable to meet the deep, brown eyes in the strong, handsome face. Shit! He'd cried more in the past two days than he had in his entire life. He breathed in deeply. At least Skinner still cared enough to want to take care of him. That was something, even if he couldn't have anything more. He raised his chin bravely, "Yes, Sir."

Skinner grimaced. It always tore at his heart that Mulder thought so little of himself, and was so quick to believe that every one else had the same opinion.

"Mulder, do you know why I do this? Why I come miles to get you, take the trouble to discipline you when you need it, support you in everything you do?"

Mulder had often asked himself the same question and thought he knew the answer. In fact, it had come straight from Skinner's mouth. "Um, you feel the X-Files perform a relevant function in today's bureau?"

Skinner almost laughed, but reined in his impulse, deciding it wouldn't be the right time. "Yes, I did say that, didn't I? And I meant it at the time but that doesn't explain why I hauled myself out here, now does it?"

Mulder shook his head, unsure of where this was leading.

"I came out here because I thought you might need me. Because I care about you."

Mulder's head shot up, and his eyes were luminous and questioning.

Skinner took a deep breath, "Because I love you."

Mulder stared at him in disbelief but with a tiny spark of helpless hope. Skinner met his eyes calmly, and allowed the truth of the simple statement to flow from them.

"Really?" Mulder choked out. He wasn't breathing; the instinct had all but deserted him in the last overwhelming seconds.

"Yes."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Suddenly it was too much to bear, and they both looked away.

Finally Skinner broke the tension. "That's right. And if I have to burn it into your butt every day to make you believe it, that's what I'm going to do."

Mulder smiled weakly. "I want to believe" he quoted.

Skinner laughed softly. "You will," he promised. He smiled into Mulder's expressive hazel eyes, and exalted silently at what he saw there. He reached down and patted Mulder's naked butt. "Come on. Let's get this over with. Then I'll take you home and you can have the rest of the day off," he grinned. "One of the advantages of having your boss as your lover." He stopped suddenly, scared of the effect the word 'lover' might have on Mulder but realized, with some relief, that Mulder hadn't even heard him.

Mulder was shaking his head, looking around with wide, frightened eyes and beginning to pull away. "No. It's not necessary. I've learnt my lesson. Lets just leave."

Skinner tightened his hold on Mulder's waist and gently lifted his chin with the other hand. "No, Fox. You need this. I know you, if we leave it you'll just brood over what happened and it will only get worse in your mind. You need to just finish it now."

Mulder shivered, but, unable to escape the loving and caring in those compassionate eyes, nodded slowly. Skinner looked down at the unhappy, sulky face and unconsciously pouting lower lip and couldn't help himself. He planted a soft kiss on his lips. After a moment though he was all business.

"Lay down on your front," he said sternly, deciding to do this quickly.

Mulder obeyed as Skinner pulled back the bed covers. Skinner reached for the pillows and placed two beneath Mulders hips, raising his naked bottom. He left quickly and retrieved his belt, pausing to look at the inviting sight of Mulder's pale ass presented for punishment. His cheeks were flawless again, bearing no marks from last night's punishment. He felt his arousal rise at the thought of lovingly spanking this perfect bottom. Before he had quelled his arousal but this time he let it flow through him.

Mulder shivered. Skinner stroked his hair gently, seeking to calm him. "It'll be over soon." He bent down and kissed Mulder's shoulder blade. He kept one reassuring hand on Mulder's back as he raised the belt, and heard Mulder's intake of breath as he brought it down on the waiting ass. Mulder jumped as a streak of pure fire fell on his unprotected buttocks. He barely had time to catch his breath when the belt fell again.

Mulder was struggling unconsciously, his helpless bottom wriggling underneath Skinner's belt, trying futilely to protect itself from punishment. Skinner steadily spanked the bare bottom, watching it turn red and hot as it squirmed in response.

Mulder sobbed quietly into his pillow. His ass felt as if it were on fire and each stinging smack caused a fresh wave of pain to run through him. As he rode on the wave of sensation he thought of Skinner's disappointment and the little girl's fear and gave himself over completely to the punishment, even raising his throbbing, stinging bottom to meet the relentless smacks.

Skinner watched and saw the moment that Mulder accepted the punishment and stopped struggling. He spanked the hot, red, trembling cheeks six more times to reinforce the lesson, then threw the belt away. He reached down and stroked Mulder's hair and rubbed his back in soothing circles. He lay down beside Mulder, putting his head on the pillow beside him, so he could hear what Mulder was whispering between sobs into the pillow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He put his arms around Mulder and kissed his hair whispering in his ear, "It's OK, it's OK, all over now, all forgiven. It's OK, baby, it's OK." Mulder's sobs subsided and Skinner turned his head around to face him. Mulder's face was flushed and tearstained. He couldn't meet Skinner's eyes.

Gently Skinner raised his chin and smiled into Mulder's tear-filled eyes. "It's OK. Hush now. All over. OK?" Mulder nodded and Skinner kissed the new tears away. "I'll be back in a moment."

He drenched a towel in cold water and brought it back, along with a bottle of body lotion thoughtfully provided by the hotel. His eyes riveted on Mulder's ass as he returned to the bedroom. His trembling, bare bottom was hot and red and raised up perfectly. Skinner felt a wave of arousal run through him again. It had abated at Mulder's distress, but returned now in full force.

He sat down beside Mulder and stroked his hair again. "Relax now." He put the cold wet towel on Mulder's hot, throbbing bottom, and heard Mulder hiss as it stung slightly before beginning to soothe. He left the towel there and opened the massage oil. He started with Mulder's neck, feeling the tension begin to melt, and moved slowly down the young man's sleek body. The sensation of hard muscles under the soft skin beneath his slick fingers was stimulating. Mulder groaned as the tension eased out of him.

Skinner continued to work slowly down Mulder's back, enjoying the intimate exploration of Mulder's body. He skipped the towel-covered ass and moved down to Mulder's legs. He massaged each thigh thoroughly, enjoying the feel of slick, tight skin beneath his hands. He moved down taking care of Mulder's calves and finally massaging each foot thoroughly.

Mulder moaned as the knowing hands both relaxed and aroused him. By the time Skinner had finished he was rubbing himself against the pillows. Skinner finally moved up and removed the towel exposing the red, thoroughly spanked ass.

Skinner dropped a kiss on each hot cheek before moving back. "Open your legs," he said, his voice deep and hoarse. Mulder obeyed and parted his thighs, allowing Skinner to settle between them. He rubbed the stinging cheeks gently, smiling as Mulder groaned beneath him, and writhed frantically, his legs parting further of their own accord as the sensations of hot concentrated pain and pleasure under the strong fingers ran through him.

Finally Skinner ran a finger firmly down the crease of his parted buttocks and he cried out, rubbing desperately against the pillows. Skinner took hold of his hips suddenly, pulling him up to his knees, and he cried out unintelligibly at the loss of friction. Skinner soothed him with a kiss to his neck before pulling back and pushing a strong finger between Mulder's firm, red cheeks; pressing it against his tight opening. He pushed the finger gently in and out of the tiny hole, not pushing in too firmly, teasing the sensitive, eager cleft. Mulder thrust back, moaning desperately, trying to get more of the older man inside him but Skinner's other hand held his hips firmly in place. He continued to tease him gently, until Mulder begged for more in deep, throaty groans that sent waves of pleasure through Skinner.

Skinner grabbed the massage oil from the side and coated his own throbbing cock thoroughly before pushing it against Mulder's eager, spasming hole. He pushed in a short way, keeping hold of Mulder's straining hips firmly and leant over Mulder's back to touch his lips to his ear. "I love you," he said firmly, his voice filled with truth, as he sunk slowly into Mulder's tight heat. "I love you," he repeated in a groan as Mulder's muscles clamped down on him tightly.

Mulder sobbed into the pillow and thrust back. Skinner began to rock gently, seated deeply inside Mulder, stroking his sensitive internal gland again and again as Mulder sobbed and moaned against the pillow. Finally he cried out Skinner's name and came hard. The sound of his own name touched Skinner more deeply than he could register at the time and he thrust again as hard and deep as he could and came inside Mulder.



As they collapse together Mulder turns to face Skinner. Skinner whispers his love as he stares into Mulder's eyes, and Mulder whispers his name again, softly, under his breath. Skinner kisses Mulder's parted lips gently and he knows that, for the moment at least, Mulder believes. And Skinner believes that someday he'll hear the words in return.

Finis