Part 12//16



He found Skinner standing perfectly still in the middle of his 
bedroom, the light from the hallway seeking out and highlighting 
all his muscles. Doggett wondered if he was standing there to 
get that very effect, or if he just hadn't liked to help himself 
to the lights. Whatever - it was real easy on the eyes.

"Nice room." The man said, dropping the towel on a chair.

"Yeah." Doggett walked in, admiring the view. His threw his own 
towel on top of Skinner's. "I'd give you the number of my 
interior decorator, but she don't speak to me any more."

Skinner lifted his chin in understanding.  "Ah." Standing there, 
just looking at one another, Doggett was very aware of his 
nerves. Bad enough that it was depressingly seldom he had any 
other person in this room since his divorce, but that situation 
was compounded by the fact that this particular person, was 
usually behind a large desk whenever they spoke.  And absolutely 
not butt naked.

"I...um..." He raised his hands, tried putting them in non-
existent pockets, on his hips, and finally folded them over his 
chest. Shit.   His dick hung down, bored with waiting. Oh great, 
he thought, rolling his eyes.

"Gone shy?" Skinner's voice was soft and teasing.

"Gone  something'," Doggett sighed.

Skinner held out a hand. "It's chilly. Come here." Relieved to 
have the burden of decision taken from him, Doggett complied. He 
took those last few steps over to the man standing in front of 
his bed and large arms went around him,  skin still slightly 
damp from the shower. He was right. It wasn't as warm in here. 
Doggett shivered and the embrace tightened.

"Better?" Skinner asked.

"Hmmmmm." Doggett hooked his chin up on to the bare shoulder and 
nodded. Much better. They stood, savouring the moment, Skinner 
rubbing his hand up and down Doggett's back, until the other man 
relaxed enough to return the gesture.  "Nice," Doggett murmured.

"Yeah." More rubbing. Basking in the physical contact, Doggett 
idly wondered if it would be out of place for him to ask for 
another kiss.  He was stunned at the way he was fast becoming 
addicted to the bigger man's technique. Never would have thought 
to look at him in the office, that beneath all that prim and 
proper exterior, Skinner  kissed like... Shit. Like a pro'? Nah. 
Too cold. Like a whore?  Uh-uh. Too cheap. Oh yeah. Doggett 
grinned as a tiny snatch of music ran through his head. Yeah. 
Kissed like... A horny angel. Oh yeah... He breathed in the 
scent of Skinner's warm skin. Fuck out of place. He lifted his 
head off the shoulder and looked Skinner straight in the eye.

"Yeah?" Skinner studied his face.

"Can I get a kiss?" Doggett asked softly, still a touch nervous, 
despite his internal bravado.

Skinner grinned. "Sure," he said, ducking that tiny bit to 
oblige. Oh man. The deep breath served him well. Shit. Who 
taught him to kiss like this? Doggett wondered, desperately 
trying to keep up. Hairy, horny fuckin' angel... And wouldn't 
you know? His dick perked up, anxious to join in the action. The 
kiss gravitated down Doggett's face, and along his jaw-line, 
disappearing down one side of his neck. He chuckled, lifting a 
shoulder.

"You really are a tickle-bunny, aren't you?" Skinner grinned up 
from somewhere near a collar bone.

"What can y'do?" Doggett said, shrugging.  It was sometimes a 
problem.

Skinner looked at him. "What can I do?" he said, running his 
hand along Doggett's face, making him shiver for another reason. 
He lifted an eyebrow and leaned in to whisper softly in one of 
the curled over ears. "Lots of things," he breathed. Fuck. 
Doggett's body burst out in a riot of goose bumps, draggin his 
erection up by the throat. Threat, or promise? He couldn't 
decide which and that thought excited him. How fucked up was 
that? Skinner dragged his lips across Doggett's face and kissed 
him again, finally unlocking both Doggett's  knees and passion.

Grasping the back of Skinner's neck, Doggett bit down into the 
kiss with all the pent-up lust from the entire evening, and 
probably the last couple of years. Straining his neck muscles, 
he pushed his tongue deep into the other mouth, stroking and 
suckling into the wet embrace. Skinner's spit tasted of beer and 
ridiculously, an echo of  aftershave. The strangeness of it 
roared through Doggettt's body, straight to his cock. He scraped 
his chest across Skinner's, the hairs igniting his nipples, 
following that trail down to his groin in a delicious wave. He 
dick was throbbing time with his heartbeat, a crazy thrashing 
thing in his chest. Skinner sucked his tongue, the rough surface 
rasping the underside of his own, in a manner that brought 
moisture bleeding to the tip of his cock. Desperate little 
noises of excitement leaked out of his throat, swallowed down 
into Skinner's mouth. Fuck! He scrabbled harder for purchase on 
Skinner's body, his cock now straining as hard as the rest of 
him, for release.

Skinner broke the kiss, gasping and laughing. "Easy!" he coughed 
out, holding Doggett by the arms. "Jesus, Doggett." He stared at 
Doggett's panting face. "You really woke the beast, there, 
didn't you?" Doggett just looked at him, chest heaving, brain 
somewhere between his legs, fuck-stupid.

"Easy," Skinner said again. "We've got all night." He ducked his 
head to plant a quick kiss on a wet, open mouth. "Slow down." He 
pushed gently on Doggett's arms, knocking his knees against the 
edge of the bed, and depositing him on the quilt. "Sit."

Eye-level with Skinner's dick, Doggett stared, the haze 
clearing. Nothing like a one-eyed trouser-snake lookin' you in 
the face to bring you back to the Real World, he thought, 
blinking. The bed dipped as Skinner sat beside him.

"Here..." A hand pulled him backwards to lie down. "Lie down. 
Get your breath back." Doggett allowed himself to be pushed, 
flopping back and levering his legs up. Shit. He'd nearly lost 
it, there. He sneaked a glance at the man sitting next to him. 
Skinner was looking down at him with an amused expression on his 
face. One hand rested lightly on Doggett's shoulder.  "Better?" 
he asked.

"Was better before," Doggett told him truthfully.

"Yeah, but would've been over pretty quick at that rate."

Doggett gave a chuckle. "Yeah. Probably." Had been good, though.

Skinner shifted to bring his legs up to lie propped up beside 
him. "Besides. I'd rather take my time," he said, running his 
hand all the way from Doggett's shoulder to groin in a languid 
sweep. Shit. Doggett pushed his hips up to meet it, making 
Skinner laugh. "You are eager, aren't you?"

"It's been a while," he told him, wondering if painful honesty 
was a normal  side-effect of allowing another man to put his 
hands on him. Skinner nodded, not saying anything.  He stroked 
again, avoiding Doggett's groin, this time. The tease made him 
grin. "Bastard," he said, softly.

"Get over it," Skinner replied, kissing the creased forehead. 
Seizing the opportunity to extract revenge, Doggett grinned and 
ran a hand over the A.D.'s head.

"Always wanted to do that," he laughed.

"You and the entire western world," Skinner complained, rubbing 
a grumpy hand over his own head.  "What is it about bald'? 
Everybody wants to touch."

Doggett chuckled. "Dunno. Maybe it's  cause it's so damned 
masculine."

Skinner looked dubious. "You think?"

"How many bald women d'you know?"

"I see your point."

He couldn't resist the pun.  "That's  cause I"m butt naked, 
sir." That brought the grin back to Skinner's face.

"Oh yeah." A warm hand ran down his body from collar-bone to 
groin, again. "So you are, Agent Doggett." Goose bumps prickled 
a trail behind  the hand as it brushed lightly. Fuck, Doggett 
didn't know whether that tickled or turned him on. Okay, so if 
his boner was any indication, it was a turn-on. But still... 
That hand. He squirmed.

"Tickling," he said.

"Really?" Doggett didn't like the look in the A.D.'s eye. Maybe 
it wasn't such a good idea to let on about that.

"Yeah. Gimme a break." He stopped the wandering hand as it 
fluttered over his belly. "It's fuckin' torture when you touch 
me like that."

"You want I should be firmer with you?"

Anything but the tickling. He let go of Skinner's hand. "Yeah." 
With distressing ease, Doggett suddenly found himself grabbed by 
hip and shoulder and flipped on his stomach.  "What the..?"

"Be still," Skinner whispered, just as suddenly all over him, 
spreading himself across his back like a second, hairy skin. 
Hands pressed into his skin, hard enough to move the flesh.

"Shit..."  Doggett gasped. This was... He strained up, with 
absolutely no effect. This was... Not good. He'd never been held 
like this, naked under someone else. He felt... He frowned. 
Disempowered, almost helpless. He heaved again. Fuck that. Not 
almost, he was fuckin' helpless. A sick feeling surged up, 
bringing quick, sharp pictures from a thousand crime-scene 
photographs with it. The hands were everywhere. He wouldn't... 
no, surely he wouldn't? He felt a strong, hairy leg force its 
way between his, and Doggett began to struggle in earnest, 
panicking.



                              *

Part 13/16




The hands stopped.  "Hey!" Skinner shook his shoulder. "Hey... 
Relax."

Breathe! Doggett told himself, biting down on a yell. Above him, 
he was vaguely aware of a head dipping down to kiss the side of 
his neck. He turned his head towards it, breathing raggedly.

"Hey. I'm not gonna hurt you." Another kiss. Doggett 
concentrated on his breathing, controlling it, calming himself. 
"I'm sorry. I didn't think." Skinner stroked a hand over the 
heaving shoulders, as if soothing a frightened horse. "I 
forgot..."

"Yeah?"  Embarrassed now, at his reaction, Doggett cleared his 
throat and licked his dry lips.

"Yeah." The head came down again and gently kissed the side of 
his mouth. "Forgive me?" Way to go doofus, Doggett thought, 
cringing. Make the guy feel like an animal because you've never 
been in bed with anyone stronger than yourself. Nice goin'.

He cleared his throat.   "Sure. No problem." He turned a touch 
more to return the kiss. "It's just..."  He shrugged. "You 
know."

The dark eyes regarded him. "I know," he said

"Yeah." Maybe he did. You never knew, maybe the A.D. had been 
here, once. Shit, everyone had to have a  first time'.

"So we're okay?"  The tone of Skinner's voice killed the last of 
his panic. The guy was worried. The  idea of that pleased him in 
a way he couldn't have foreseen.

Doggett smiled. "Sure." The smile went wonky, pulling wickedly 
up to one side.  "If you're gonna offer a make-up kiss." The 
relief was touchingly evident in Skinner's expression, despite 
his light words.

"Why, I think I can just about force myself to oblige you, in 
that department." Leaning over, he applied himself diligently to 
Doggett's mouth. Almost worth the scare, Doggett thought, with a 
corner of his mind that wasn't making the most of the apology. 
He opened his mouth wider, trying not to broadcast his pleasure 
by groaning. Fuck. This bastard knew how to do this right. 
Draped over Doggett like an electric blanket, Skinner pulled his 
mouth away, sighed and chuckled.

"You do that very well," he said, running his hand over a smooth 
shoulder.

"I was just thinkin' the very same thing, Mr. Skinner." They lay 
quietly for a moment, content to stroke and be stroked. Doggett 
wondered if Skinner was allowing him to pull himself back 
together again. That was a pretty astute move, if he was. He 
needed a moment. No great surprise,  his boner had gone AWOL 
when he'd started to flip out.

Skinner kissed his shoulder. "Cute freckles," he muttered. 
Doggett turned his head and glared.

"I am not  cute'," he growled.

Skinner chuckled. "I'd beg to differ with you on that, Agent 
Doggett." Still glaring, Doggett shook his head.

"Not cute. No way."  Not in a million fuckin' years. What was 
this guy on? "Since we're having our first disagreement, d'you 
think you could quit callin' me  Agent Doggett'? Makes me 
nervous, you know?"

Skinner propped himself up on one arm, his face amused. "And me 
lying naked on top of you, doesn't?"

"No.  Strange as that may be. But being called  Agent' while you 
doin' it, is more than a little freaky." Doggett wriggled an arm 
free and knocked a knuckle lightly on the A.D.'s forehead "So 
quit it, okay?"

His hand was grabbed. "Okay. But no more of that  Boss' stuff, 
from you, either." He shook the hand in his.  "Deal?"

"Pullin' rank, Sir?" Doggett grinned wickedly.

"Works every time, Agent Doggett."

"Yeah? Well you can just kiss my ass!" he laughed, then abruptly 
snapped his mouth shut when he realised what he'd just said. The 
lack of lighting hid the furious blush that roared across his 
face.

"Why, Agent Doggett," Skinner laughed. "On a first date?" Shit! 
What a dumbass thing to go and say! Doggett could feel the heat 
form his face radiating onto his arm.

"Screw you, Skinner," he muttered, mortified.

Skinner roared with laughter. "Oh, this just gets better and 
better, doesn't it?" Doggett groaned, giving up all pretence of 
control and buried his burning face in the bed covers. Tonight's 
faux pas brought to you by the letter M, for Moron. His body 
shook with Skinner's loud amusement. Oh, this was just peachy. 
The laughter eventually died away to occasional chuckles. Then 
it went quiet. His head still firmly pressed into the bed, 
Doggett waited to see what would happen next. If he was lucky, 
Skinner'd fall asleep and he'd slink off to spend the night on 
the couch. A hand brushed across his shoulder.

"You still in there?" Doggett ignored him.  "Hey?" He could feel 
a hand on the back of his head. He wasn't sulking. Not really.  
"Hello..."  Skinner's mouth was very close. The words ruffled 
the stubby hair. "John?" First time he's called me by my given 
name, Doggett thought.  No wait. He did it at the club. Just 
before he took me dancing.

"John." Not a question, this time. More a thinly veiled order.

"What?' he muttered into the sheets, replying out of habit.

"Cut yourself a break."  Soft kisses touched his skin. Across 
his shoulders and moving down his spine. Doggett shivered.  
Skinner shifted, and the kisses reached the small of his back, 
and then with a sudden rush of surprise, one landed on his butt-
cheek. Shit. Doggett's head came up. He craned his neck to look 
behind.  "Thought that'd get your attention." Skinner grinned.

"Bastard," Doggett told him, a faint smile on his face.

"Oh yeah." He dipped down and kissed the other cheek, making 
Doggett clench and laugh.

"Quit it!"

There was a gleam in Skinner's eye. "You sure?" Oh boy. These 
deciding moments just kept comin' and comin'.  Doggett 
swallowed. He wondered if the lump he'd just forced down was 
what was left of his masculine pride.

"No," he said, very quietly. "I'm not."



Part 14/16



Skinner's warm hand wandered down to his hip.

"I'm glad," he said, and began to pull Doggett over on to his 
side. Silently, he began to kiss down Doggett's ribcage, to 
where his hand cupped his pelvis, and staring, Doggett wondered 
with half his mind, whether he had gone totally fucking insane.

"Lie flat," Skinner whispered, pushing him into the mattress.  
He smiled up at Doggett, stroking thumbs over his hips. "And try 
to relax."

Giving a grunt of derision, Doggett sighed and reached above his 
head to snag a pillow. Shit, if he had gone insane, then he 
might as well be comfortable in his certification. He stuffed 
the pillow under his head and flopped his arms back to his side.

"Relaxed," he told Skinner, lying through his teeth.

The other man chuckled and shook his head, obviously not fooled 
for a second. And then he took the last of Doggett's sanity by 
bending his head and licking up the side of his groin.

"Fuck!" Skinner looked up.

"In good time," he laughed, making Doggett grimace.

Doggett muttered, squirming.  "Jesus, Skinner." There was a 
moment of anticipation when he had a chance to brace himself, 
before Skinner ducked down and did it again.  This time, he just 
bit his lip and watched. At some point during the proceedings, 
Doggett understood how Skinner had risen to the ranks of A.D.  
He was thorough, methodical and utterly focussed. In the space 
of around fifteen minutes, he licked, kissed and nibbled just 
about every inch of Doggett's legs, belly and chest,  gathering 
up what was left of Doggett's tattered self-control and chucking 
it into a corner of the room. All the while, studiously ignoring 
his erection, which was straining at the leash with neglect. The 
moisture on his skin from Skinner's mouth was bobbing it up in 
patches of goose bumps, which in turn, were soothed back down by 
long strokes of a hand. The combination of gentle touches from 
Skinner's lips, and the burn of beard on his skin was 
distracting, distressing and utterly delightful.

"Shit," Doggett hissed, his hips lifting involuntarily as 
Skinner skimmed by his dick  again. His balls were going to 
explode with frustration any second now.

"Bastard," he told the man settled between his legs. Skinner 
merely looked up at him.

"Smile, when you call me that," he grinned. Doggett grunted at 
him, with a creased-up face. He was doing that thumb thing on 
the delicate skin next to his hips, and  it was teetering on the 
border of agony and ecstasy.  Any second now, he was going to 
have to scream and push Skinner off.  He took his lip between 
his teeth and began to count down from one hundred in his head. 
He had been a Marine, for Chrissake.  He could fight this insane 
urge to howl. And then Skinner grabbed his dick hard, and in one 
silken, sensuous sweep, dragged his tongue up, and swallowed it 
down. The yell ripped out of Doggett's throat, yanking his head 
off the pillow, and straightening his legs as if shot.

"Fuck!!" Gripping the base tight in fingers of steel, Skinner 
stopped Doggett from coming there and then by a hairs breath.

"Oh shit, shit shit..." Doggett panted. The act of looking down 
at what was going on between his legs was very nearly undoing 
him. "Oh God..." Slowly, he watched himself fall out of a 
grinning mouth. The sight made his belly clench with lust, and 
his nerves screamed both approval and frustration. There was a 
freakin' riot going on in his groin.

"Good?" Skinner asked him, rather smugly. Nodding was all he was 
gonna get right now, Doggett thought, his breath charging in and 
out of an extremely tight chest. He idly wondered what Skinner 
would have done, if the shock had brought on a  coronary.

"Oh good." Skinner  said, satisfied, and gave Doggett another 
suck, bringing slender hips off the bed in a spasmodic jerk.

"Jesus!" Up and down, pause at the tip, then sliding down...It 
had been a long time since anyone had done this to  him, but his 
body remembered. Recalled and relished. And it didn't care in 
the least that for the first time, it wasn't a Sue, a Carolyn or 
even an Anna lying with their head between his legs.  His hips 
jerked in approval, once, twice...

"I'm gonna..." he gasped, feeling the familiar build-up to the 
moment that common courtesy dictated, he should issue warning to  
his bed-partner.

"No you're not," Skinner assured him, squeezing down hard again.

The sensation faded.     "Shit." Propping himself up on one 
elbow, Skinner watched frustration and relief jostling for 
position on the angular face.

"What're you tryin' to do to me?" Doggett croaked out, 
eventually.

The other man chuckled. "Drive you crazy," he said.

Doggett nudged him with a knee. "Mission accomplished, you 
bastard." Skinner blew cool air over his dick, making it twitch.

"Fuck, Skinner," Doggett groaned.

"Maybe... one day." he said, enigmatically, stroking the inside 
of a trembling thigh.  "But not tonight."

"What?!" Doggett snatched  his body up on his elbows, not 
believing what he'd just heard. Skinner just carried right on 
petting, oblivious to the look on Doogett's face.

"You can't..." The phrase,  leave me like this' perched itself 
on the tip of Doggett's tongue. He swallowed. "You just can't 
stop," he said, hoping it hadn't come out as a whine. "I've got 
a gun, Skinner. I promise you I'll fuckin' use it." Skinner 
grinned at him.

"Oh, I don't intend to stop," he said, kissing the end of 
Doggett's dick, momentarily distracting the other man.

"Then..." Doggett  swallowed around a dry throat. "Then what?" 
Skinner's hand went underneath his knee and pushed it up, 
bending it.

"You'll see."

Never mind two steps behind his body, his mind was practically 
in the next fuckin' state. What the hell was going on now? He 
didn't like not knowing. Actually, knowing was sometimes a bit 
tricky, too, but he thought, on balance, not knowing was worse. 
In his mind, he'd studiously stuffed  the mental pictures of 
what vice-squad tapes told him men did to each other in bed, 
behind a wall. But they had popped out every now and again 
during the evening, just to wave and remind him of some basic 
facts. To remind and worry him a little.

"Skinner..." he began.

"You think we could move on to first-name terms, now..." Skinner 
looked pointedly at Doggett's crotch. "Considering?"

Sighing, Doggett rolled his eyes.  "Okay... Walter. Mind tellin' 
me what's the plan?"  He nodded down at his wet dick. "Bein' as 
I'm kinda involved?" Skinner scraped his nails gently down the 
back of Doggett's thigh, making him hiss.

"Houston, we have a problem." he said, with a little grin. 
Doggett shook his head. He was lying in bed with a lunatic.

"Thing is, John," Skinner said, never pausing in is journey 
along Doggett's leg. "I'm very aware that  we're in a brave new 
world for you." Doggett felt a blush threaten.  "And much as I'd 
like to fuck this cute virgin ass into the mattress..." The 
blush stop threatening and raged over his face and into his 
ears.  "I'm sure you'd appreciate a more  gradual' approach." He 
stopped stroking and looked up at Doggett's face. If he noticed 
the colour of his ears, he didn't mention it, for which Doggett 
was absurdly grateful.  "Am I right?" Doggett swallowed. Shit. 
Not a lunatic, just a mind-reader. He nodded, slowly.

"Besides, I'm willing to bet you haven't got a spare bottle of 
Astroglide in that bedside drawer of yours. And I'm far too old 
and boring to want to go downstairs and get olive oil out of 
your kitchen." He smiled. "It's such a bitch to get out of the 
bed linen." Doggett gaped at him, words completely out of the 
question.

"Okay, then." Conversation over, Skinner bent and began to apply 
himself again, much to the delight of Doggett's dick.

Quite frankly, Doggett was amazed at the range of noises that 
came out of his throat while Skinner worked. He hoped it didn't 
make him sound like an idiot. But he couldn't seem to stop 
himself.  Not only was that incredible mouth milking him from 
his toes upwards, but he was taking the time to caress the 
inside of his thighs and balls, the gentle touch making his nuts 
ache. Fuck. Ironic that none of his women lovers had ever been 
quite this good at b.j.'s. Must be some truth in the old joke 
that it takes a man to know what another man wants. A tiny 
thought wondered if the rule was the same for women. Skinner had 
paused,  long enough for  Doggett to eventually look up. He 
craned his neck to see.

"What you doin'?" Curiosity overcoming impatience.

Skinner looked up and grinned. "Wait and see," he laughed and 
then his hand disappeared. Strange, Doggett thought, and then 
his mind blanked as he lay back down, that talented mouth 
sucking away all thought. A hand went under his left butt cheek,  
lifting him up a little.  Doggett groaned as the angle caused 
him to slip further down the A.D.'s throat. And then he gave 
more of a shout as a wet finger disappeared between his cheeks.

"Yow!" Relentlessly, the intrusion pushed further, surprise 
making Doggett's eyes bulge open. "Shit..." And then, all of a 
sudden, it was inside him, and the shock of the unfamiliar 
feeling shutting his mouth with a snap. For a second, the blow 
job was driven out of his mind. Fuck. He took a deep breath, 
sorting out the sensation, not at all sure he liked it. He 
frowned, feeling himself clamping down. Not even his wife had 
done this, in all the years they'd been married. Would Skinner 
be offended if he said he didn't like it? And then the thought 
disintegrated as Skinner pushed in and did something else making 
the whole of Doggett's groin explode.

"FUCK!"

Later, he would hope he hadn't screamed that out, but if he was 
honest,  he probably had. Loudly.





Part 15/16

When the world trickled back into focus, when his hearing 
slipped back, and his eyes cracked open, Doggett finally 
remembered to breathe again. He gazed, glassy-eyed at the 
ceiling, panting. Oh. My. God. Somewhere, down by his recently 
departed dick, Skinner was chuckling, softly.

"Tha..." he croaked. No. It was too much to expect his voice to 
work properly.

"Good?" Skinner offered, helpfully. He nodded. That was beyond 
good. More like nearer to amazing... outstanding... or even 
fuckin' incredible, actually.  "I aim to please."

Doggett encouraged his head to move so he could look at the 
other man. He was sure his neck muscles creaked. Skinner was 
gazing up at him, chin on a fist, a smug expression plastered 
all over his face. Doggett wondered what expression was all over 
his.

"Your aim was... Pretty amazin'," he ground out, knowing it'd be 
pointless to say anything else, after that vocal reaction. 
Skinner waggled his eyebrows, still grinning. He looked like a 
Cheshire cat, thought Doggett. One that had got the cream. He 
blinked, amused at his own analogy.

"Can I?" He lifted a boneless hand.

"Can you what?"

"Reci... repric..." He sighed. Reciprocate  was way too hard for 
his post-coital tongue. "You know."

Skinner smiled and shrugged.  "You want to?" Pausing for a 
second to check with his libido and masculinity, Doggett was 
pleasantly surprised to find them both nodding.

"Yeah," he said, propping himself up on one elbow. "I do." 
Crawling up the quilt to lie beside him, Skinner made himself 
comfy on the pillows and waved his hands.

"Help yourself." He lay totally relaxed, a faint smile still on 
his lips. "Whatever you feel comfortable with." Well, thought 
Doggett, pulling himself up to a sitting position. There's an 
offer you don't get every day. He could imagine that he would be 
the envy of the entire Bureau typing pool, if he was of a mind 
to tell them. Then again... Maybe not. He let his eyes roam over 
the expanse of golden flesh displayed on the bed and scratched 
his chest. What to do, and where to start? Well, at the top was 
as good a place as any.

He rested a palm on the centre of Skinner's chest and leaned up 
and put his mouth to his lips. Good plan, he thought, as the 
other man held his head and went at it, with gusto. It'd been a 
while since they'd kissed, felt good to re-acquaint himself. 
Taking the initiative, Doggett moved his mouth and began to work 
his way across Skinner's face, wondering at the feel of the 
beard under his lips, trying to decide how he felt about it. 
Actually, it wasn't as strange as he'd have thought. Kissing 
another man. Affection was affection. And he like Skinner. Liked 
the way he did big cat impersonations in the back of his throat, 
as the kisses disappeared down the front of his chest. Doggett 
moved to sit astride Skinner's legs, wanting better access.  The 
idea of sitting nude on top of another man was negligible. Seems 
you could adjust to anything, he thought. He ran his hands over 
Skinners wide shoulders, and down the arms lying on the quilt. 
The hairs on them tickled his palms. That was something you 
didn't find on a woman. Shit, he thought with a grin. Hair like 
this, was something you didn't find on him.

"Amusing yourself?"

"Yep."

"Okay, then." Silence fell between them, while Doggett explored. 
He ruffled chest hair every which way, learning how it moved, 
deeply intrigued, because he had none. He bent to taste, to see 
if the skin tasted any different, and then rolled Skinner's 
nipples like radio-knobs, making the other man laugh. Scraping 
his nails down a trim waist, he grinned at the jump of the 
muscles.

"Ticklish?" he teased.

"Uh-uh." Skinner shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you." 
Silence again, while Doggett let his fingers wander through the 
line of hair that pointed the way from Skinner's belly button to 
his groin. He combed the short hairs, re-arranging the way they 
lay on Skinner's belly, then he bent to kiss his handiwork,  
dipping his tongue into the little hole. Pulling a face, he sat 
up quickly, fishing between his teeth.

"Yeuch."

"What?" said Skinner.

"You're shedding." Skinner burst out laughing.

Doggett made spitting noises. "It's like making love to Gentle 
Ben." Wiping the stray hair away, Doggett stared down at the man 
under him. God. Making love. Did he just say that? Well, 
whadd'ya wanna call it? He asked himself?  Fuckin'?  Is that 
what they were doin'? No - he answered himself. It wasn't that.  
Fucking' wasn't the right word, at all. It didn't even begin to 
cover this. Skinner stared back. Still smiling that big old 
sappy smile. Doggett found himself grinning back. Yeah. Okay. 
Making love. That'd do it.

"Quit your bitching," Skinner told him.

"Who you callin' a bitch?" he demanded, tweaking a nipple, and 
bending forward to bite Skinner's side. He sucked hard, leaving 
a mark. "Explain that in the Bureau showers," he grinned, 
looking down at the bruise.

"You dipshit!" Skinner said, rubbing the spot and flicking 
Doggett's knee with the other. Looking down at Skinner fussing, 
his eyes found themselves drawn down to his groin. Doggett 
pondered the dick sitting between them, pointing relentlessly up 
at the ceiling. He reached out and ran his fingers up it. 
Skinner shivered. Okay, so he likes that, Doggett thought. Let's 
start from there. He grasped it again, and began to rub up and 
down, gently.

"Good," Skinner told him. Doggett nodded. Yeah. I bet. He played 
for a while, learning the noises Skinner made on the different 
strokes. Deep noises, little grunts. It was like playing the 
world's strangest instrument. String instrument, or one you 
could blow? The thought made him grin. One way to find out. 
Doggett leaned closer, plucking up the courage to return the 
favour. And found himself hesitating.

Above him, a deep voice rumbled. "It's not as bad as you might 
think."

"I know." Doggett looked up. "My wife always used to say the 
thought of it, was worse than actually doin' it."

Skinner roared with laughter."Mine too." He shook his head. "You 
think there's a seminar they all go to?"

Doggett pulled a face. "I think it's obligatory, after ten years 
of marriage."

Skinner shook his head.  "I hear you."

"Wonder if they'd do it more if they knew how good it felt?"

Skinner snorted loudly.  "Less, probably."

"Yeah." And with that thought laughing in his head, Doggett 
moved that last inch or so and took Skinner in his mouth. Not as 
bad as he'd imagined. Not that he'd ever really given this 
serious thought. Well, not very often, anyway. Just on the odd 
millionth occasion Rudy had offered to do him. It was a bit 
salty, a bit sweet, but mostly just warm skin. Fair enough. 
Working his head up and down to the sounds of satisfied Skinner-
grunts, Doggett closed his eyes and gave the job at hand his 
full, undivided attention. He used his free hand to fondle a set 
of balls that were rapidly disappearing up tight against a 
groin.  Wasn't going to take long, at this rate.  He 
experimented, seeing how far down he could take it.

Coughing and choking, Skinner's erection fell out of his mouth. 
Oops. He glanced up. "Sorry."

Skinner just grunted. His eyes stayed shut, but a big hand came 
up to bury its fingers in what hair the barber had seen fit to 
leave.  " Kay," he muttered, patting. Try again. Have to be 
careful not to bite off more than he could chew, he told 
himself.  Doggett bet whoever thought that one up, didn't have 
this in mind. He worked his way up and down, paying attention to 
the sensations he knew he liked, alternating deeper strokes with 
tip-work.

"Oh god..." Skinner groaned, his fingers still tangled in 
Doggett's hair, his hips twitching.  He was trying to hold back 
with the thrusting, Doggett guessed. Didn't want to choke him to 
death. He sucked harder.

"Ow... Shit!" All of a sudden, he felt Skinner's body clench, 
his balls tighten, and he braced himself for the inevitable.




Part 16/16


Well, he might be willing, but his technique stank, he thought, 
as a good deal of Skinner's come flowed back out of his mouth 
and on to his groin. Shit. He coughed, gagging on the speed and 
sheer volume of what was pumping out. Not what you'd call very 
graceful, at all. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 
Damn! There must be a special way to do that, without getting 
into such a fuckin' mess. He glanced up at the other man. A 
goner. Totally fuck-blind.  Eyes shut, jaw slack. Oh well, he 
might not be the world's best cocksucker, but at least he got 
the job done. He grinned. Rubbing the spilled come into 
Skinner's belly, he flopped down next to Skinner, and  waited 
for him to recover. More Firsts. That scoresheet must be gettin' 
pretty full up, tonight.

"How y'doin'?"  he asked, eventually.

Skinner opened one eye. "Out-fucking-standing, my man," he 
grinned. "I'm impressed."

Doggett inclined his head. "My pleasure."

That got him a look from both of those dark eyes. "Are you 
sure?" he asked. Running his tongue around the strange taste in 
his mouth, and thinking  seriously about the question, Doggett 
scratched his nose. Was he?  Sure, it was an unusual way to 
spend his Friday night, but on the whole, he'd had a real good 
time. Good enough to maybe want to do it again, sometime? Sure. 
Tomorrow, maybe? Skinner waited for his reply. Looking at him, 
blinking.

"Yeah," he said, at last. "I am."

"Yeah?" Doggett grinned. He'd thought he was supposed to be the 
insecure one. He leaned over to kiss Skinner, softly.

"Yeah. Relax, okay?" Skinner kissed him back and snaked an arm 
around his shoulders, pulling Doggett into a hug.

"I'm glad," he said. Resting  his head on the tanned shoulder, 
Doggett hooked a lean leg over Skinner's hairy one. This was 
comfortable. Lying in someone else's arms. Especially someone 
like this. An equal? Maybe. A friend. Hopefully. Doggett put his 
hand over his yawning mouth.

"Am I boring you?" Skinner joked.

Doggett laughed. "Nah. Just beat." He yawned again, just to 
prove a point, then plopped his hand on Skinner's chest. "You 
wore me out." The chest rumbled with quiet laughter. Then 
Skinner yawned, too.

"Must be catching."

"Yeah." he hoped Skinner would sleep over tonight. It'd be nice 
just to go to sleep together, not have to do the whole,  shall I 
call tomorrow' thing before slinking away into the night. 
Doggett closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't think Skinner 
would just presume. He'd have to ask.  "You'll stay. Tonight, I 
mean?" he said.

"That okay? I'd like that."

"Sure." Easy as that? Man, this was easier than with a woman. 
Doggett smiled against Skinner's shoulder. How about that? Damn 
shame he'd never get to tell Rudy that he had been right, all 
along. Man, would he get his ass well and truly kicked by Lt. 
Wallis for fuckin' about,  wasting all those years. Something 
was tickling at the side of his face. He reached up a hand to 
scratch and was surprised to find his fingers coming away wet. 
Doggett stared at them, dumbly. What the hell?

Beside him, Skinner lifted his head to see what was holding his 
attention. He touched the moisture on Doggett's fingers.

"What's all this about?" he asked, pulling himself up on an 
elbow. He took the hand in his own to wipe it dry. "Regrets?" 
Doggett nodded. Oh yeah, regrets, alright. He turned to look at 
the man lying next to him,. But he needed to explain. Needed to 
take away the pain  that had been in Skinner's  voice when he 
asked that last question.

"Not about this," he replied, moving his fingers to entwine them 
with Skinner's. "Not about you."  Bringing their clasped fists 
to his mouth, he kissed the back of Skinner's hand. "Trust me."

Skinner nodded, carefully.  "Then... What?" What indeed.  
Doggett thought for a moment. More correctly, more honestly, it 
was a case of  who'. He realised it was important to explain to 
Skinner, but his throat was thickened by blood and dust from a 
Beirut car-bomb.

"I had a friend..." he began. His eyes were stinging like a 
bitch from all that friggin' dust. Skinner nodded again.  "Way 
back in Service." Doggett cleared his throat. His voice sounded 
all funny. "A good friend." He grinned. "The best. Could drink 
like a ten-dollar whore, and fight almost as well." A bark of 
laughter chased away the catch in his voice.  "He'd take a bet 
on anythin' man. Fuckin' anythin'. How quick a dog-turd dried in 
the sun... How many times the Drill Sergeant said  fuck'... 
Which new grunt'd puke first in the bar... Anythin'." Skinner 
chuckled.

"He could strip a Harley engine, an A-K 47, or a Beirut 
whore..." Doggett held up his hand and snapped his finger. 
"Slicker  n snot, man." He laughed softly. "Great guy." Doggett 
lay there in the dark room, running Rudy's video tape in his 
mind.  The one he very occasionally, allowed to make him cry.

"He dead?" Skinner put his hand gently on to Doggett's  belly.

Nodding, Doggett dragged his arm over his face. He sighed. "A 
while now," he said.

"Tough break."

"Yeah." Ain't that the truth, Doggett told himself.

"Your lover?"

Doggett started, surprised. "No. I told you. I never..." Rudy, 
his arm draped over his shoulder as they argued whether John 
would ever drop his pants for a b.j., lurched into focus. 
Closely followed by that old favourite, the first - last, bloody 
kiss. Shit. That damned dust again. This time, Skinner wiped his 
face for him.

"Okay," he said nodding.  "But you did love him." It wasn't a 
question. Whadd'ya know? The letter T, for Truth. Doggett looked 
at Skinner's finger, then into his own heart.

"Yeah..." He thought about how the admission altered his view of 
himself.  Strangely, it didn't change a thing.  He nodded. "I 
did."

"That's good," Skinner leaned over and kissed the end of his 
nose.

"He wanted to..." He shrugged, looking Skinner's body up and 
down. "You know..."

"Uh-huh."

"But I never let him... Always said  no'."  The stain of Rudy's 
blood had stayed on his lips long after the MedEvac team had 
taken the broken body away. The bitter taste of his blood had 
stayed in Doggett's mouth for much  longer. His gruff, ex-
smoker's voice had gone quiet. "I didn't have the balls." 
Skinner stroked his head and down over the creased face.

"It's okay."

Doggett frowned. "Maybe I might have..." He gave a derisive 
snort. He knew damn well he wasn't anywhere near as Rudy.  
Hadn't got the balls to be a gay Marine. Crazy old Rudy, still 
offering sex, even as the dry Beirut ground drank his life from 
his shattered legs.

"He knew," Skinner said.

Doggett looked up, hopefully. "You think?" That might help. Ease 
the guilt.

"Sure. He was still your friend, even when you said  no', wasn't 
he?" Doggett  nodded. Yeah. For five years after first asking. 
And then every day for the entire five fuckin' years afterwards.

Skinner shrugged. "There y'go, then.

Doggett smiled.  "Actually, I did kiss him. Once."

Skinner chuckled.  "That's what you meant by  not exactly', 
then?"

"Yeah." Not exactly. Not exactly what Rudy'd had in mind. Not 
exactly what Doggett'd had in mind, either.

"Like it?" Skinner asked, innocently.

"I didn't get the chance to find out." Doggett gave a crooked 
smile. "He died about two minutes after I did it."

"Oh shit. I'm sorry."

Doggett shrugged. "S'okay. Prob'ly wouldn't have done it at all, 
unless..." Yeah, then they'd probably have spent the rest of 
their lives, drinkin' beer, play-fightin' and raggin' on each 
other to hell. Rudy callin' him a dumb queer-bashing Redneck, 
and him calling Rudy a screaming faggot queen. And they'd have 
lived happily ever after. Or unhappily after. Who knew?

"Glad you did it?"

"Yeah." And for the first time, he really believed himself. He 
yawned hugely, again.

"Close your eyes, John Doggett," Skinner told him, kissing the 
top of his head. "God knows, you could do with the beauty 
sleep."

"Screw you, Walter Skinner," Doggett grinned, doing as he was 
told.

"One day, John Doggett," Skinner laughed. "One day."