TITLE: CHICAGO SERIES: D.C. PROMISES
AUTHOR: WPAdmirer@aol.com  
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: Slash Crossover (XF-ER) Skinner/John Carter, AU (Alternate Universe - cause damnit, I like the beard)
SPOILERS: None
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Walter and John, together. PWP for a change. 
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me. The full set of stories (thus far) can be found at the ER nfic site: 
http://www.oocities.org/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/wpadmirer.htm  and my own site, which is all updated complete with a zip file of the stories: http://chateauke.simplenet.com/chimerical/chicago/index.htm 
DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately. 
SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and ewade for beta reading and friendship.
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D.C. PROMISES

by WPAdmirer


Walter sat at his desk and pretended to work as he watched John Carter. He couldn't help but watch. After coming so close to losing him, each moment was precious. When they were together he had to force his eyes away to get anything else done. Walter had decided fuck the anything else.  In two days he would put John Carter on a plane and they would go back to their pattern of squeezing in a day here, a weekend there. 

For now, though, John Carter lay length-wise on the floor in front of the television, a bed pillow under his head, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid boxers. He was engrossed in soap opera, of all things. Walter couldn't stand the thing, but for the past week John had gotten hooked.

"Is there anything I could do that would get you to turn that off?"

John Carter glanced over and smiled. He didn't have to say a word, but one hand strayed down his abdomen and brushed lightly across the front of his boxers.

"I'm not sure either of us is up to that."

John Carter raised the middle finger of one hand, displaying a remarkably expressive bird. His smile had disappeared.

"That was nice."

John folded both hands across his chest and went back to watching his show.

Walter sighed and closed the folder that sat on the desk in front of him. He hadn't read a word anyway, and it was certain that he wouldn't now. John Carter had been pushing for the renewal of their sex life. There were a lot of factors to think through. John was still recovering from the beating and his surgery. Although he claimed to feel fine, Walter had seen the way he flinched when he moved. For Walter there was still the issue of whether or not he could get an erection.

The bottom line was that he was terrified of trying. And that John Carter was obviously getting tired of asking. 

"I don't know what we can do...safely," Walter said.

John Carter's head whipped back in his direction. "Let's find out."  He still was not smiling.

Walter nodded.

John Carter got up slowly and came to him. He knelt next to Walter. "This is going to work, Walter."

Walter only nodded again. He could not find his voice. Dear God he wanted this to work. He loved John Carter, but if there was no sex, how long would someone this young and vital stay with an old man like him? He ran his fingers through John's hair. John grabbed his hand and pulled it down to his mouth and kissed the palm. 

"Stop thinking, Walter. Just feel."

Walter smiled. "You've got to stop reading my mind."

"No way. It's the only way I ever find out what's going on with you."

John Carter pulled him up from his chair and led him upstairs to the bedroom. He turned to Walter and motioned for him to stay where he was, then went about turning down the bed and setting out lube and condoms. 

When he finished he came back and began to undress Walter slowly, kissing each portion of flesh he uncovered. John Carter's lips felt soft, and slight traces of moisture changed from warm to cool when his mouth moved on to the next spot.

Walter closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of John Carter's face, mouth, and tongue. The soft brush of beard across his collar bone, shoulder and upper arm. The warm wetness of tongue on his skin, tracing shapes and patterns that Walter didn't understand, didn't care about. Fingers trailed down his sides, feathered across his abdomen to the button at the waist of his pants. John Carter opened Walter's pants, tugging at them enough to allow them to fall from his hips, and drop down past his knees to his ankles.

John rubbed his belly and groin across Walter's. "I want to make love to you," he spoke softly, his voice against Walter's ear. "Let me love you, okay?"

Walter nodded. The sound of his own voice would break the spell that John Carter was weaving around him. He wanted it to continue. His body wanted to respond.

John Carter moved away and pushed at his boxers, letting them drop to the floor and stepping out of them. He came back to Walter and slipped fingers beneath the elastic waist on both hips, pulling the briefs down, moving over hips, thighs, then shins. Walter raised one foot at a time, allowing John to take the underwear away. John stood and his hand cupped Walter's testicles. He whispered into Walter's ear, "There's so much of you to love."

Walter chuckled quietly. 

John Carter covered Walter's mouth with his own, coaxed lips open and tasted him deeply. Walter sighed, and answered John's questing tongue with his own, sweeping the hot sweetness of John's mouth. He tasted of heat and something like smoky, dark molasses. The normal tang of antiseptic wasn't there. The two weeks since the hospital had faded it to non-existence. Walter missed it in a strange way. It was so much a part of the smell and taste of John Carter that without it there was a strangeness. 

"Stop thinking, Walter."

Walter opened his eyes. John Carter was so close Walter's eyes wanted to cross. "I wasn't thinking."

"Un-huh." John leaned his head back. "Don't even try to convince me."

Walter smiled. "All right."

John Carter took Walter's hand and led him to the bed, pushing him down on his back. He nudged Walter until he was in the middle of the bed, turned on his side, then he laid down next to him, spooning Walter's body, nuzzling at his neck his hand moving over Walter's hip to stroke Walter's penis.

"John Carter...."

"Shhhhh." John began to nip softly at the back of Walter's neck.  John's erection pressed against Walter. Their hips rocked, quickly settling into a rhythm so that John's penis rubbed against the crease between Walter's buttocks. 

John Carter grasped Walter's thick penis and stroked it, drawing the foreskin back and forth across the glans. John's touch was hot and firm, sending rushes of pleasure up Walter's spine. Walter groaned and he felt John's hot breath against his neck. 

"You are so sexy," he said.

Walter groaned again, and his body struggled to both push toward John's hand and his hard penis at the same time. John for his part, seemed to be making every effort to accommodate his need, increasing the pressure of his hand and moving his hips closer. 

"I want to be inside you," John Carter said.

Walter nodded. 

The snick of the lube being opened barely penetrated Walter's consciousness, but the coolness of it on his anus was like an electric shock, bringing him back to reality from the haze of arousal in which he'd been lost. "Oh, God."

A finger penetrated and Walter could not stop himself from moving back to meet it, take it deeper. John Carter seemed to take an eternity to prepare him.

"John Carter, now!"

John caught the skin of Walter's neck between his teeth and pinched it tightly. Walter yelped. 

"Don't back seat drive, Walter."

Walter began to snicker. "I'm in the wrong position for that, but you....Oh, Jesus!"

John Carter entered him in one hard thrust. They both paused, panting.

Walter ran budget projections through his head. Anything to not think about the fullness inside his rectum, the tight grip of John Carter's hand around his penis.

"Feel that Walter?"

Walter brought his focus back to John Carter.

"You're hard, Walter."

It was true. His penis was semi-erect. Hard to the touch. Exhilaration filled him. Total joy. "John Carter!"

"I know." 

Their love-making immediately turned from gentle and slow to driving and passionate. John Carter gripped Walter tightly, pounding into his body. Walter responded, covering John Carter's hand with his, pumping his semi-erect penis faster, more tightly.

Walter felt his testicles draw up tight against his body, and the electric charge from his prostate, through his penis and up his spinal cord to his brain. He felt himself tighten around John Carter's penis, and then the warmth of his own ejaculation across both their hands.

He heard a wordless roar and recognized it as his voice, but felt it deep in his chest. Then he could feel the spasming of John Carter inside him, hear John's cries of orgasm.

As the racing of his heart subsided, and the sweat on his body cooled, John Carter started to pull away from him. Walter held tightly to John's hand and pulled him close again.

"Stay."

John, for once, didn't answer, only pressed himself closer. His face rested at the back of Walter's neck, his breath hot and moist on Walter's skin. 

The joy had not dissipated. It still glowed inside Walter like a small flame.  He was going to get well. He would make love to John Carter again. He would escape the death that Krycek still held in his hands. It was all possible. 

Walter was not ready to give up this life. Not yet.


The End