Debra Fran Baker
When he first walked in the bar, I was too busy letting myself get groped in the corner, preparatory to being dragged into the back room and then being forced quite willingly to my knees, to be more than mildly curious. The big leather daddy who had my crotch in his hand was pretty much keeping my attention focused.
He was still standing there, nursing a beer, when I finally stumbled back into the bar, having been reamed out more thoroughly than mere words. Leather daddy followed me out, looking thoroughly satisfied with the last half hour or so. I myself was moving somewhat stiffly, but it was what I'd wanted.
Walter Skinner took one look at both of us, and then stared straight at leather daddy. "Get the Hell away from him." His eyes seemed to glow with hatred and something else, something I couldn't touch.
Leather daddy shrugged. "I'm done with him anyway. You can have your turn now, if you don't mind seconds. Tell you something...pretty boy here gives good head."
Skinner...changed. His face, which had held his normal anger, became cold and hard. He stood up even straighter, seeming to loom over leather daddy, despite the other's extra inches.
He smiled, and the room's temperature dropped. I tried to fade into the background, my own heart pounding.
Leather daddy smiled back. My heart pounded faster. "Oh, yeah. And his ass is sweet and tight. How's yours?"
They began to circle each other as the rest of the patrons cleared space around them. They weren't, couldn't be, fighting over me. Leather daddy had already had me and Skinner...I'd known what Skinner felt for years, but I also knew he'd never violate the rules about fraternization. Except, I wasn't his subordinate any more. I shivered.
"Want to find out?"
"You want me?"
Leather daddy was all in black from his jacket to his jeans, and festooned with chains and tattoos. Skinner was in full FBI drag, except for his loosened tie. I knew he was armed, just as I was, but I also knew he wasn't going to draw a weapon here. When two silverbacks fight for dominance, they only go hand to hand, and we all knew that instinctively.
"Mulder, take my glasses." He held them out to me. He should have looked naked without them. He looked beautiful, primal. His eyes glowed with cold rage. I took them, not bothering to hide my arousal.
I saw other eyes in that bar shining with desire, other crotches filled with need, other faces sick with envy. I wanted to display those glasses like a prize. I wanted to go down on my knees in front of him and everyone else. I wanted to run away as fast as I could. I held his glasses carefully and stood still.
"Good idea. Don't want them hurt, do we?" Leather daddy sneered at the glasses.
"You worry about that, boy." Skinner sneered back.
"Oh, tough guy in that fancy suit."
"Some of us don't need to wear our manhood on the outside." The bouncer stepped forward, but Skinner quelled him with one glance.
"How come I got your pretty boyfriend, then? How come you never did? Maybe you weren't man enough for him." Leather daddy's grin was just as cold, just as terrifying.
Skinner lashed out with his fist, raging pouring out of him like an icy volcano. It connected but leather daddy wasn't fazed. He just reared back and jabbed Skinner in the stomach. And then it all moved too fast for me to describe - a flurry of fists and feet and grunts and howls and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.