SPOILERS: Sort of spoilers for Within/Without.

DISTRIBUTION: Archive freely. Email forwarding OK.

RATING: R for strong language and adult situations.

KEYWORDS: Humour. Slash.

SUMMARY: Skinner/Doggett. When alpha males collide...

DISCLAIMER: Not mine.

MORE FIC: http://prillalar.tripod.com/fic/fic.html

November 2000

NOTE: I guess this was inevitable. Sorry.



A MAN'S MAN
by Halrloprillalar prillalar@yahoo.com


In the halls of JEH, Skinner and Doggett circled each
other. The struggle for dominance had begun.

First, they arm wrestled. For ten minutes, they were
locked in combat, sweat beading silently on their
foreheads, but neither gave an inch, so it was declared a
draw. If their arms hurt afterwards, neither let on.

Next they each downed a fifth of Wild Turkey. It only
took about five minutes. Skinner's eyes bulged and
Doggett's neck got red, but afterwards they could both
still run up and down the stairs and recite "I Am The
Very Model of a Modern Major-General" without the
slightest hesitation.

So they moved on to spitting. Splitting a chaw of
tobacco, which of course neither of them normally
indulged in, since they were manly but not stupid, they
chewed for a few minutes, then aimed at a spittoon
brought out of storage just for this occasion. From ten
feet away, they both hit the mark easily. Skinner was
more accurate, not even touching the sides of the
spittoon with his tobacco juice. Doggett was showy,
expectorating loudly. Another draw.

They got their guns out. Doggett was blindfolded, then
spun around six times. He plugged the number three in the
elevator indicator at the other end of the hallway. Then
Skinner duplicated the feat, drilling the seven instead.

One more trial remained. They stood still, faces like
stone, preparing for the feat. Then Skinner let loose a
belch that caused the building to shake and made some of
the onlookers feel like they were standing too close to a
subwoofer. Doggett just smiled and let fly one of his own
that shattered the glass in a nearby office window.

There was still no clear winner. Musky pheromones hung
thick in the air. Other men began to scurry away and
women pressed closely around the fringes, in case there
was any chance of mating with the victor.

They moved into phase two.

"I was a Marine, you know," Doggett said, curling his lip
a little.

"So was I." Skinner curled his lip just a fraction more.
"I killed people."

"Hell, Skinner, I've killed people. Even Agent Scully has
killed people and she's a girl."

"I'm an Assistant Director."

Doggett only paused a moment before replying. "I have
perfect vision."

"Is that the best you can do, Doggett?" Skinner's lip
moved into a sneer. "There's so much testosterone
coursing through my body that my hair fell out." An
exited murmur rose among the women.

"I'm so manly that I can eat a salad for lunch and the
waitresses still flirt with me."

"Yeah? I'm such a guy that I can bake scones for the
Director and he still bets on me in my boxing matches."

"Well, I'm such a man that I can drink Pink Ladies in
front of my peers and they still respect me."

"And I can wear soft pastels and my agents still obey me
unquestioningly."

Doggett was stumped for a fraction of a second, but
rallied. "I can work in a tight little midriff baring
t-shirt and all my colleagues would think is that my
laundry lady screwed up." To illustrate, he took off his
jacket, shirt, and tie, to reveal a tight little midriff
baring t-shirt. It was blue.

Skinner laughed, derisively. "I'm so virile that I can
work in just a posing pouch and people think the air
conditioning is broken." Skinner stripped down, draping
his clothes carefully over a chair back, until he was
clad only in a black leather posing pouch. More murmuring
from the women.

Doggett stripped too. "And I'm so masculine that I can
work in a *sequined* posing pouch" -- the sequins were
red -- "and...people know there's a very good reason for
it."

Stepping in closer, Skinner grabbed Doggett's bare ass in
his large hand. "And I can do this and people just figure
it's got something to do with team sports."

"And I could do this--" Doggett took Skinner's face into
his hands and kissed him, hard and deep. "And all people
would think is that you're actually a woman."

The real women were starting to disperse at this point,
whispering to each other, and wishing there were some
bourbon left.

"Yeah, well, I'm so much a man," Skinner said, when he
could talk again, "I could suck your cock and...nobody
would think I'm gay."

"I'll believe that when I see it." Doggett sneered some
more, wiping Skinner's manly saliva off his face.

So Skinner dropped to his knees, removed the sequined
posing pouch, and gave Doggett some head. He was pretty
damn good at it, as he was at everything he did. Doggett
almost forgot about the contest for a minute. Then he
rallied.

"Okay, but I could fuck you in the ass and nobody would
think I was gay either."

Skinner stood up. "Sure. I could *let* you fuck my ass."
He undid his own pouch. "How do you want me?"

Doggett thought about it for a second. Skinner had
tricked him, the bastard. "No, I think I'd rather you
fucked me."

"I called it first. You drill me."

"I don't think so. I'm the manly one. So I get fucked."

Skinner didn't answer, but his eyes narrowed. Then he
punched Doggett in the face. Doggett punched back. Soon
they were full-on brawling -- yelling, slugging, and
completely naked.

Skinner had Doggett in a headlock. "Say it, boy, say
you'll fuck me." But Doggett flipped out of it and
knocked Skinner to the floor. Before he could continue
pummelling, a door opened.

Kersh. "Would you two gentlemen come in, please?"

Doggett and Skinner both stood meekly, glancing guiltily
at each other, then entered the plush office.

Kersh sat down behind his desk. He did not ask them to
take a seat. "Let me make this simple for you. I am going
to fuck both of you. I'm going to ream you good and
without any goddamn reacharound."

This was turning out okay, actually. Skinner and Doggett
glared at each other, wondering who was going to be
first, hoping it would be him. Then it all started to
remind Skinner of those precious times in his own office
with Mulder. He began to cry.

"Ha," said Doggett. "I win."

F I N I S

Who's your choice for top dog? I'm thinking Frohike has
all these guys beat. prillalar@yahoo.com