Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren’t mine, they belong to others. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you don’t recognise are mine. Again, if someone’s used the name(s) or storyline(s) elsewhere, the same applies. Feedback would be nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy!
Author: Susanna
Feedback: Yes please! [email protected] or on the site where you read the fic - whatever’s easiest for you!
Category: Walter worship fic
Rating: NC-17 for Mulder’s innermost thoughts – Mulder’s POV throughout.
Characters: Skinner/Mulder
Series: No
Spoilers: None - PWP
Summary: The man even reads the paper in a seductive way.
Archive: Just tell me where it’s going
Additional ‘stuff’: This fic was inspired by a gorgeous Walter pic on Sergeeva’s site. It’s at:
http://www.geocities.com/sergeeva.geo/lazyday.html
Title: Hold the front page – a small Skinner-worship snippet
Sunday. It’s late morning. Walter’s reading the paper. Lying on his side, the paper spread open on the bed in front of him, his wire-rims on the bed beside him. Wire-rims were made for him. And helpful to me. Taking them off signalled he was relaxing. He tried contacts a while back. They disrupted our morning routine too much and he went back to spectacles after only a few days. I was glad. Watching him put them in and take them out squicked me completely.
His t-shirt and shorts are crumpled. The building’s heating system is playing up and even a former Marine feels the cold when it’s early Spring and the apartment’s barely warm. So he pulled on the t-shirt and shorts he took off last night, and now he’s laying on top of the bedclothes, reading the papers. He was lying with the bedclothes over his legs, but he dropped one of the supplements onto the floor, leaned down to retrieve it, and dislodged the bedclothes. Any second he’ll notice his legs are bare. The apartment’s too chilly for bare legs. Even if they are Walter’s legs. Which, if I had my way, would be bare at all times.
If he’s reading something he disagrees with, a slight frown forms. After a few seconds, he’ll turn the page, move onto something else. He’s starting to get permanent frown lines. I know that’s partly my fault. His smooth skin will be changed forever. And it’s down to me. I’ve altered Walter’s face. Which is okay, cos he’s altered my life. I got the better deal.
The breakfast’s nearly ready. We’ve already had coffee. Neither of us can think straight until we’ve had our first caffeine of the day. When he’s around, I still find it hard to think straight, however much coffee I drink. We want to swap to decaf but whenever we think about it, that’s all we do. Think about it.
We have shopping to do, so we’ll have a late lunch. Otherwise this would be brunch. But the eggs, toast, and coffee will have to sustain us. And there’s a lot of Walter to sustain. For a guy who can clear a plate of food before I’ve even picked up my fork, he’s in remarkably good shape. Really good shape. Toned, tanned, muscled. With the strength, energy and stamina of someone younger. Much younger.
‘Walter, breakfast’s ready.’
He looks up, suddenly, and smiles. A smile which, even at several feet, makes me hard and light-headed at the same time. A shadow deepens the cleft in his chin.
‘Coming Fox.’
Yeah, I am. Any second now. Just from watching him get up from the bed, folding the newspaper tidily before he leaves it on the nightstand. He even folds the paper in a seductive way. Almost as seductively as he reads it. Or drinks his coffee. Or does just about anything else.
He doesn’t understand his attractiveness, gently and politely rejecting every female advance. And every male one. I’ve learned not to get jealous when we’re out and he gets looks, even phone numbers. I know he’d never do anything. He’s mine. Oh, and I’m his.
Sunday with Walter. Perfect.
End