Walter liked watching Mulder in public, when the two men weren't together. The other man's personality was very different from the lover who had been turning Walter's life upside-down for the past few months. He sometimes thought that even if it were possible for the two men to openly announce their relationship, he would prefer to keep it hidden. There was a perverse thrill to things the way they were now, a sense of excitement that he knew Mulder shared. 

As he watched, Mulder moved away to let the waiter put his selection on the table. That was another thing. Publicly, Mulder rarely touched anyone. He had a remote air that didn't encourage casual back-slapping or even handshakes. And yet, in private he was rarely more than an arm's-length away from his lover, even if they were just watching television or eating. Walter had found this almost uncomfortable at first, but he had eventually become reconciled to Mulder's obvious determination to live inside his personal space. Walter smiled privately. The phenomenon of a cuddly Fox Mulder would astound most people who knew the man. 

He dragged his attention firmly back to his own dinner companions, who were staring at him curiously. This annual ordeal, the holiday dinner for the local agents and building staff, was less than half over and Walter already found himself checking his watch, wondering how soon he would be able to slip away. Unfortunately, as one of the Assistant Directors, he wouldn't be allowed to leave until almost everyone else had already gone. 

Mulder, of course, would slip out early. The agent's habitual disregard for the social pleasantries that could have made his life so much easier at the Bureau was too well-known even to cause comment by this time. 

Suddenly he realized Mulder was trying to get his attention. Excusing himself, he went to meet the agent standing near the door.  

"I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, sir, but the Banquet Captain wants to speak with you." Mulder pointed to where a young woman was waiting by the mezzanine railing the hallway. 

What now? Walter wondered. He thanked Mulder formally and went to meet with the hotel contact assigned to supervise the dinner. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt your evening, sir." The young woman, her nametag read M. Martini, echoed Mulder's apology. 

"It's perfectly all right, Ms. Martini," Walter said smoothly, his tongue almost tripping over the name. "How can I help you?" 

"The dinner instructions call for special meals for two people," she explained calmly. "One of them, a . . ." she consulted the list in her hand, "Janet Carrigan, has asked for a low-fat dessert. The other, a Mr. Jamison, is allergic to peanuts." 

"Yes?" Skinner wasn't certain what she expected him to do. Surely the hotel was able to handle such simple requests. 

"The meals aren't a problem," she assured him, seeming to understand what he was thinking. "Ms. Carrigan is supposed to be sitting at your table and I was hoping you could tell me which person she is." 

"The blond woman in the red dress," and he pointed Janet Carrigan out carefully 

"Thank you. And Mr. Jamison?" 

"Yes?" Jamison, not one of Walter's favorite Bureau employees, was hosting a different table. 

"The gentleman I was just speaking with wasn't able to identify him," she said apologetically.

Mulder didn't like Jamison any more than Walter did, but that was no reason to make this young woman's job any harder. Walter gave his lover, still loitering near the door, a stern look and turned to scan the room carefully. As he looked, he realized Jamison was not in the room. 

"Sir?" 

Walter turned to where Mulder was standing. "Yes, Agent Mulder?" 

"I don't believe Mr. Jamison has arrived," Mulder said with barely concealed satisfaction. He pointed to a far corner of the room helpfully. "There's an empty chair at his table." 

Walter bit back his automatic response. While the dinner was optional for most Bureau employees, it was understood that attendance by management personnel was considered to be mandatory. He turned back to where Ms. Martini was waiting. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Something must have come up. I don't believe Mr. Jamison will be here this evening." 

"That's quite all right," she assured him. "I just wanted to make certain before we served the rest of the meals." 

"Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Martini," Walter told her. "Your staff is doing an excellent job." 

She looked pleased. "Thank you, sir. And have a nice holiday." 

"I will, thank you." He watched her walk off with admiration. 

"So, is Jamison going to have to stay after school next week?" Mulder's gleeful whisper interrupted Walter's appreciation of the young woman's graceful progress down the hall. 

"That remark is inappropriate, Agent Mulder." Walter stepped out of the way of a member of the hotel staff trying to enter the ballroom and looked at his favorite agent with disapproval. "Assistant Director Jamison no doubt has an excellent reason for missing this dinner."

And I intend to make sure of it, Walter thought savagely. The idea of Jamison passing a leisurely evening at home while the other Assistant Directors circulated and thanked the staff for their hard work during the year, mending fences and trying to foster a feeling of teamwork in the ill-assorted group, annoyed him. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Mulder said sincerely. "You're right. That was a completely inappropriate remark." 

Walter glanced at him suspiciously. "What are you up to?" 

"You're always asking that," Mulder complained with a grin. "Maybe I'm not really up to anything?" 

"That will be the day." Reluctantly, Walter prepared to return to the ballroom and to the entertainment of the people assigned to his table. He made a mental note to spend time with the employees assigned to Jamison's table as well. Before the evening was over, he would make certain that each of the attending Assistant Directors stopped by and chatted with that group, so they wouldn't feel slighted by Jamison's non-appearance. 

"It's a bad habit." Mulder shook his head regretfully. "Speaking out of turn, I mean. No doubt I should do something to cure it." 

"Right." Walter refused to be drawn into that conversation. Mulder would stop speaking his mind when he was completely unable to speak, and not before. 

"Perhaps a little disciplinary action is in order?" Mulder grinned wickedly. 

Walter glanced around hastily. No one was within earshot at the moment. He gave Mulder a look. "Are you going to make me sorry I stopped to talk to you?" 

"Let's hope not. It's essential to the plan." 

"What plan?" 

"It's kind of hard to explain. Let me show you." Mulder turned toward the far end of the hallway invitingly. 

Walter didn't move. He'd had experience with Mulder's 'hard to explain' plans before. "Does this involve smearing any edible products on our bodies, any kind of bondage, any toys with sound effects, or life-threatening contortions?" 

"Walter, this is a public place! What do you take me for?" Mulder's face assumed an expression of outraged innocence. 

"Answer the question, Agent Mulder." 

Mulder sighed and ticked the list off on his fingers. "No, not so far, not this time, and only if you insist." 

Walter thought about it for a minute. After all, it was a public place. Whatever Mulder had in mind, he knew he could actually trust the younger man not to endanger either of their jobs. "Will this take long?" 

"Not as long as standing here renegotiating international peace," Mulder said with ill-concealed impatience. 

"Don't get angry." Walter felt guilty for his suspicions. 

"I assume you want to get back to the dinner some time this evening," Mulder said briskly. "Let me show you this so you can re-join your fascinating circle of dinner companions." 

Walter followed his lover silently, still feeling guilty. 

"In here." Mulder motioned toward an open door.  

Walter stepped in and heard the door close and lock behind him. The lights dimmed and he closed his eyes in resignation. "I might have known." 

"You should have," Mulder said reprovingly. "How many times are you going to fall for that before you wise up?" 

Walter glared at his lover. "If you'd stop pulling this shit, I wouldn't have to worry about suspecting everything you say." 

"That's true." Mulder shrugged out of his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Agent Mulder, if you think...." Walter started in a furious whisper, suddenly aware of the thinness of the door between the two men and the hallway. 

"I'm not thinking," Mulder said calmly. He draped his dress shirt and jacket on a chair carefully and kicked off his shoes. "You're getting behind." 

"I'm not getting anything...." Walter began to say. 

"Not if you don't take your clothes off, you aren't," Mulder agreed. He pulled off his socks, dropped them on his shoes, and started to work on his pants. 

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Walter knew he was about to lose this battle.  

"Walter," Mulder stopped working on the fastenings of his dress pants and walked over to his lover. "Why do you always fight the inevitable?" 

"I don't," he protested weakly. 

"We're here," Mulder pointed out. "The door is locked. We have atmospheric lighting. I'm almost naked. What more do you want?" 

Watching Mulder slide out of his pants in the dim light, Walter couldn't think of an answer to that question. He took off his own jacket, kicked off his shoes, and went to work on the buttons of his shirt. Mulder hated having sex with his clothes on. In these infrequent attacks in public places, he always stripped naked before he would let Walter touch him. Privately, Walter enjoyed this habit, he thought that it added to the excitement, but he rarely admitted as much to his lover.  

He watched silently as Mulder leaned against the desk, waiting for him to finish. 

"Well," the agent's voice was expectant. 

"What?" Walter knew what he meant, but he didn't intend to comment unless he was forced. 

"Don't you like them?" Mulder looked disappointed. He spun in a slow circle, giving Walter ample time to take a closer look. From somewhere, Mulder had acquired what could only be called "Santa Claus" underwear. The tiny briefs were red with white fur trim at the waist and around the legs.  

"You look ridiculous," Walter said with satisfaction. He draped his shirt carefully over a chair and stripped off his pants efficiently. 

"Do you really think so?" Mulder sulked noticeably.  

"I do." 

Mulder crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. Walter moved over and wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. "How much time do you have budgeted for sulking?" 

"Three minutes." Mulder looked at him in irritation as Walter checked his watch. "An amount of time," the agent said pointedly, "that could be reduced by the application of a little tact and diplomacy." 

"Where do you want to do this?" Walter asked callously. "Floor, desk, or wall?" 

"Couch." Mulder pointed over his shoulder and Walter looked to see the battered couch in the corner of the room. When he turned back around, Mulder triumphantly presented him with a small tube of lubricant, a condom, and a handful of paper tissues. 

"Where were you hiding it this time?" Walter asked curiously. Mulder's outfit didn't have any pockets, he could vouch for that from his brief inspection. 

"If you'd really looked, you'd know," Mulder said smugly. He grinned. "There's a good reason I didn't want to go back to the table and sit down. That's all I'm saying." 

"Let's get this over with." Walter dragged his lover to the back of the room. 

"Certainly the most romantic approach I've heard in a long time." Mulder stretched out on the couch and toyed with the faux fur lining the waistband of his underwear. 

"Are you planning to wear those?" Walter looked at the offensive garment with distaste. 

"Not if I can convince you to take them off for me." Mulder grinned and put his hands behind his head. 

"I don't even know where you find all this stuff." Walter shook his head and settled in between Mulder's legs. He eyed the inviting picture his lover made, laughing quietly up at him from the depths of the battered couch. This was Mulder all over. Completely oblivious to his surroundings, focused only on what he wanted to see. Walter found it harder to ignore the shabby room, but the longer he watched Mulder's happy face, the easier it was.  

He leaned over and kissed the other man, gently at first, then with fierce possession. Mulder made a noise of approval, his arms closing around Walter's shoulders. Walter stretched out next to his lover, suddenly willing to waste a few more minutes, hoping that no one at the banquet would notice how long he was gone. Or that Mulder was gone at the same time. 

The two men lay there quietly for a minute or two, kissing and cuddling. Walter slid his hand inside the flashy briefs Mulder was wearing and stroked his lover's erection into fullness. He watched the blissful smile on Mulder's face and thought again how different he looked here with his lover than he did anywhere else. This Mulder, the private one, was a person very few were privileged to see.  

Always impatient, Mulder soon coaxed Walter to help him out of the red stretch fabric, claiming it was cutting off the circulation where he needed it most. 

"Have you been wearing those all evening?" Walter eyed the skimpy fabric, then tossed it across the room in the general direction of the rest of Mulder's clothes. 

"Of course," the other man claimed. "Why not?" 

"They look like they'd itch," Walter admitted. 

"Actually, they felt kinda sexy," Mulder said smugly. "Especially when I thought about this part." His hand trailed down to where Walter's erection prominently displayed his desire to move on to more serious action. 

"I'll bet." Walter rolled over, trapping the younger man under his body. Their erections pressed together between their stomachs, adding a delightful edge of urgency to the lazy lovemaking. He frowned down at his lover. "Have I mentioned, recently, that I love you?" 

Mulder blinked. "I don't think you've mentioned it at all," he said cautiously. 

"I knew I'd forgotten something," Walter said thoughtfully. 

Mulder started laughing. "You shit." 

"What?" Walter looked at him questioningly. 

"Only you could make that sound like something to check off on a shopping list," Mulder accused. 

"I could withdraw the remark," Walter offered. He rocked his hips slowly. 

"Not a chance." Mulder's arms wrapped around his shoulders firmly. "You said it. Now you have to live with the consequences." 

"Don't even think about it." Walter looked at him suspiciously. "I can give you five minutes. Then I have to get back to the banquet." 

"Five minutes?" Mulder looked outraged. At least, he tried to. Walter's body rubbing gently against his was overwhelming his ability to concentrate on the discussion. As usual.  

"It would have been more if you'd been wearing the kind of underwear any normal man would wear," Walter offered. "We must have wasted five minutes talking about it." 

"It was supposed to give you ideas." Mulder squirmed into a more comfortable position and Walter slid down a few inches and started moving again. "It seems to have succeeded." 

"Any success you've experienced in this area has been in spite of, not in response to, that ridiculous garment," Walter told him. 

"Don't be pompous when we're having sex," Mulder reproved. 

Walter smiled at him. "What would you prefer?" 

"I like intense," Mulder suggested. 

Walter shook his head. He squirted some of the lubricant onto his hand and slid a finger inside of Mulder, stretching him quickly. "We don't have time for that one." He leaned back and opened the condom, rolling it over himself efficiently. 

"How about romantic?" Mulder laughed and then gasped as Walter's cock slid inside of him suddenly. "It suits the occasion." 

"But not the surroundings," Walter pointed out. 

"Don't get bogged down by petty details," Mulder advised. He locked his legs around Walter's waist and stretched up to claim a kiss. "How about the rough-rider?" 

"You make too much noise." Walter shook his head. Leaning his weight on his arms, he kissed his lover again and started fucking him slowly. 

"Yesss...." Mulder hissed in sudden pleasure, his back arching.  

Walter laughed down at him tenderly. "By the time you pick one, we'll be done." 

"Yeah, but it's fun going through the catalog, don't you think?" 

"It's working for me," Walter admitted. He checked his watch casually. 

"I hate it when you do that during sex," Mulder sulked. "It makes me feel like I'm renting you by the hour." 

"Now that's an idea," Walter told him. He twisted his hips and watched Mulder's eyes close in bliss. "We haven't done that one in a long time." 

Mulder laughed breathlessly. "And you think I'm a pervert." He lifted his hips and his hands closed on Walter's shoulders. Walter took the hint. Sliding one arm around Mulder's shoulder, he pulled his lover's face up for a kiss.  

The two men's bodies slid smoothly into a faster rhythm. In a minute, they were both breathless from the effort of holding back moans. Walter reached down and started stroking his lover's erection in time with his thrusts. Mulder's head fell back, he gave a soundless cry of pleasure. His hands on Walter's shoulders clenched tightly as he came. Walter's lips covered his mouth, stifling his cry. As Mulder's body tightened around him and he watched the pleasure rolling over his lover, Walter felt his own climax pouring out of him. 

They lay on the couch for a few minutes. Mulder was laughing breathlessly at his success in seducing his reserved lover in the middle of a crowded hotel and Walter was wondering if Mulder had ever had any real doubts about the outcome of his strategy. Rolling off of the couch, he pulled off the condom and disposed of it. The two men shared the handful of tissues that Mulder had provided.  

"Do you always think of everything?" Walter threw the sticky paper into the trash and started pulling on his clothes hastily. 

"That's my reputation," Mulder said smugly. "It's not easy being me, you know." 

"I can imagine." Walter pulled on his tie and tried to make sure it was straight. "But then, who else would want to try? Are you getting dressed?" Mulder had pulled on his underwear again and was perched on the edge of the desk, watching him with obvious enjoyment.  

"In a minute," he answered. "I thought it would be smarter if we didn't wind up walking back into the banquet rooms at the same time. Especially since you've got that just-fucked look." 

Walter gave him a dirty look. "You're leaving, aren't you?" 

Mulder had the grace to look embarrassed. "Hey, I stayed until dinner was served. That's longer than I stayed last year." 

Walter shook his head, but didn't argue. There wasn't any point. 

"Anyhow," Mulder said calmly. "I have plans for the rest of the evening." 

"What kind of plans?" Walter was disappointed.  

"Chocolate mousse," the agent explained. 

"What?" Walter paused with his hand on the door handle. 

"You do have a whisk, don't you?" the other man asked with concern. 

"I suppose so, why?"  

Mulder grinned and gave him a quick kiss. "I have a plan. Don't be late." 

****  

The end.