Exercise

An X-Files snippet inspired by Jule1122 Rimming Drabbles and by a ‘hint’ from Arwen.

*****

Walter put down the sander to fiddle with the hem of his sweat soaked t-shirt. He stretched, bending his neck from side to side in an attempt to work out the kinks. His taut thick muscles flexing and contracting at will. Walter was all too soon about to leave middle age behind him and with a youthful looking lover, Walter took his daily exercise regimen seriously. That, and having no aversion to manual labor, kept Walter fit and ripped.

He was in his workshop, blissfully planing long planks of raw wood. His project was an armoire for a neighbor in the next town whose family was growing and needed more storage. Walter had a reputation of creating quality pieces of furniture that were destined to be handed down through the generations. However, Walter did it for the love of being able to work with his hands and the indulgence of using his brain for more civil and creative pursuits other than hunting down notorious criminals or the random ‘grey’.

Walter had been at his work bench for hours. His stomach was hinting that it was time for a break to restoke the furnace. His t-shirt that was now sticking to his back and chest was annoying, so in one graceful movement he whipped it up over his head, then used it to wipe the sweat off his brow and pate. Walter left the sanctity of his workshop for his kitchen.

In the barnyard, Alex was muttering curses in Russian and several other languages that Walter had difficulty identifying, to a bunch of clucking hens that were determined to vex and peck Alex. Alex was in mind to try a new soufflé recipe and needed several fresh eggs. In his zeal to obtain the eggs, Alex did not offer up to the ornery beasts the appropriate compensation of chicken feed. Hence all the loud clucking and vicious pecking.

Walter found it all very amusing; Alex did not.

“Ow! Goddammit, Betsy, stop it. You’ll get your fucking birdseed if you just get out of my way!” Alex cried as he was reaching for the grain bucket. The large plump hen was flapping her wings, dancing back and forth in front of Alex, effectively barring his path. Her attack spurred on the others. Even skinny Henrietta was incited to peck at Alex’s heels. Rather than stomping on a chicken foot, Alex looked over to his lover for assistance.

“You could be helping rather than just standing there and laughing at me,” Alex growled.

“I’m not laughing at you, love. I just find it amusing that the master spy and supreme assassin that had eluded law enforcement agencies and conspiracy organizations around the world has been thwarted by a twelve pound chicken.”

“Oh, hardy, har, har, Walter. Just keep it up and one day you’ll be eating those words and perhaps eating the chicken,” Alex groused as he glared at the bird who was showing no signs of letting up on her tirade. “Can you at least hand me the bucket,” Alex pleaded.

“That I can do,” Walter said as he approached the coop from the opposite side, while the distracted birds continued to harass his lover.

In a few moments, the birds who now had an ample supply of grain scattered on the ground, quieted down. Alex was able to stealthily enter the coop to obtain his eggs. In the safety of their ranch house, each man went about his intended task before the attack of the chickens had temporarily waylaid them.

“Phew, for a minute, I thought I was a goner,” Alex murmured as he carefully examined each of his purloined booty and washed them.

“Death by pecking, that would have been a first for you,” Walter commented as he entered the kitchen with a fresh shirt. He had performed a cursory wash up before putting on the new shirt. Walter had several more hours worth of sweaty work ahead of him.

“I’ve gotten into the habit of exercising many firsts since becoming a member of this family,” Alex said as he took out the bowls and ingredients required for his soufflé.

“Any regrets?” Walter asked as had wrapped his arms around the younger man from behind.

“None at all,” Alex said. Inhaling sharply, Alex could smell the musky manly aroma of his hardworking lover. “I love the way you smell,” Alex whispered as he turned in Walter’s arms to face him.

“I stink.”

“Yes, you do, but it’s a noble stink, borne out of hard work and good intention.”

“A killer with a heart of a philosopher,” Walter murmured before kissing the pout shaped lips of his assassin. The growling of Walter’s stomach broke them apart.

Alex chuckled. “Go make yourself a sandwich, Walter, before you faint from hunger,” Alex chided with a smirk.

“I don’t faint,” Walter said as he punctuated his sentence with a nip to Alex’s elfin ears. “But I am hungry.”

“Then eat a sandwich, I have work to do here.”

“I’d rather eat you,” Walter purred, as he went to get the fixings for his sandwich from the refrigerator.

“You’ll get the chance later,” Alex crooned as he began cracking eggs.

 

*****
 

A light and airy done to perfection soufflé. A bottle of a crisp summer wine. Candles and soft jazz playing in the background. Two men lying naked across a California king bed, a recipe for loving. Walter’s hand, calloused by work, gently caressing the planes of Alex’s nearly hairless torso. His pale skin now bronzed by the sun. Alex’s semi-erect manhood lay in a nest of deep sable curls.

There was no frantic wild rush into lovemaking. No need for romantic platitudes. Just quiet knowing hands lovingly tracing patterns across muscled skin.

“Your souffle was delicious, Alex.”

“As was the wine you chose,” Alex said as he kissed Walter deeply. “I can taste it on you,” Alex purred then stretched out like a cat. A dark black cat with piercing green eyes.

“I want to taste you,” Walter replied as he bent down to suck his lover’s cock. After some time, Alex’s essence added to the taste of the wine in Walter's mouth.

“Mmm,” Alex murmured as his body shuddered with the aftershocks of orgasm. “You kill me.”

“Not intentionally,” Walter softly chuckled as he kissed the now flaccid organ.

“Turn over.” Alex urged his lover to roll over onto his belly. “You are magnificent,” Alex whispered, admiring the view of wide toned shoulders, the muscled back that narrowed to a trim waist and glutes that put the max in gluteus maximus. Alex dove in to feast on his dessert.

Pillows under his waist to raise the hips, legs spread apart. Hard leaking cock and balls positioned between his thighs greedily guarded by Alex so that Walter couldn’t reach them or rub them against the sheets as Alex voraciously attacked Walter’s hole with his tongue. Alex would be the only one to touch and rub.

Alex exercised the prerogatives of a lover who knew and loved his mate so very well. Walter came with a mighty roar, fainting away as his cum filled Alex’s mouth and Alex’s fingers filled Walter’s hole.

A smug, hen-pecked assassin positioned his lover for sleep before covering them both with a blanket. There would be many such exercises for them in the years ahead.

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