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J. Edgar Hoover Snowman, A

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A J Edgar Hoover Snowman

A J Edgar Hoover Snowman

by Catspook

Title: A J Edgar Hoover Snowman
Author: Catspook
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Status: Complete
Category: Holiday Fic
Pairing (Primary): Spender/anyone
Pairing(s) (Secondary):
Crossover Fandom (if any):
Crossover Info (if any):
Other Pairing Info: Skinner/Spender
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Two Fathers, One Son
Permission to Archive:
Series or Sequel/Prequel:
Notes:
Warnings:
Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Sharon Skinner, Jeffrey Spender, The Lone Gunmen, and CGB Spender belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, possibly the Fox Network, I just don't know. "Winter Wonderland" belongs to Dick Smith; I hope he doesn't mind that I borrowed it. I don't know who wrote The Night Before Christmas, but everybody in the world has parodied it and not given credit, so I guess I'm safe. In any case, none of this stuff is original. I don't make any money off of any of this stuff, so please do not sue me.
Summary: Christmas fluff


A.J. Edgar Hoover Snowman
-Catspook

"Walter! Walter, it's snowing!" Walter grunted as Jeffrey tugged on his limp arm. "Walter! We came all this way for a white Christmas together, and now you're going to stay in bed while the snow falls outside?!"

"That was the point, Jeffrey. Although my plan would be going a lot more smoothly if you were in bed with me."

"Walter! We can have sex anytime, but how many chances do we get to make a snowman?"

Walter was beginning to doubt the wisdom of not only having a lover who was seventeen years his junior, but also indulging in Jeffrey's childish pleading that they go somewhere for a white Christmas. He had no idea that snow affected Jeffrey this way. Walter had been fantasizing about a fireplace, long walks in the frosted, glittering woods together, and snuggling up on the couch, watching the flakes fall outside like a perfect Courier and Ives painting. Of course, that's assuming that they did a painting called `the Bulldog and the Weasel Boy'.

Currently, the Weasel Boy was capering around the inert figure of the Bulldog, tugging at various extremities and whining, "Walter, what's the point of coming up here if we're not going to play in the snow?"

Finally, Walter rolled over, grabbed his glasses off the bedside table, and asked, "What's for breakfast?"

Jeffrey clapped his hands. "Yay! What do you want?"

"French toast."

"Okay." Jeffrey leaned forward and gave Walter a peck on the cheek before scurrying out of the room. Walter took a minute to admire Jeffrey's ass in those tight jeans that Jeffrey knew Walter loved. Jeffrey was steadily regaining his strength from being shot by his own father last February, and Walter again silently thanked Mulder, who had discovered Jeffrey's body before it was too late.

Walter shook his head as if to clear all thoughts of Mulder from his mind. He felt just a little bit guilty about having the perfect white Christmas, while Mulder was reduced to having cheese-steaks with the Lone Gunmen. Walter had always thought it a pity that such a damn good looking man was straight, but he couldn't complain about being stuck with Mulder's baby brother.

Walter showered quickly while Jeffrey made the most perfect French toast in the history of the planet. Among his many, albeit hidden talents, Jeffrey was a world class cook. Walter wasn't too bad himself, but Jeffrey had been the first up and about this morning. It was a deal they had; whoever got up first had to make breakfast for both of them.

Jeffrey squealed when Walter crept up behind him and wrapped his big arms around Jeffrey's slender waist. "Walter! You know I can't cook when you do that!"

"I thought you wanted to play in the snow." Walter began to nuzzle Jeffrey's neck in a vain attempt to entice the younger man back to bed.

"After breakfast," Jeffrey answered him, ignoring Walter's ministrations completely.

Walter gave it up as a lost cause, and decided to get the dishes out for their meal. This cabin, buried in the woods of northern New Hampshire, was a hiking lodge Walter had shared with his wife. She had been an athletic, outdoorsey woman, despite her affinity for the city. They had been too distant from each-other for the last few years of their marriage to make the annual trip up to the little cabin, and Walter had never even considered setting foot in the place after she had died. But when Jeffrey had suggested, or rather, begged for, a white Christmas, Walter decided that it was time to breathe a little life back into the place. The dishes Walter retrieved from the overhead cabinet were well used and mismatched, but Jeffrey didn't mind at all. He kept sneaking glances out of the cabin's small windows at the fat, glistening flakes that swirled outside.

Jeffrey froze when he heard Walter whistling behind him. A wide grin then spread on Jeffrey's face when he recognized the tune, and he added his soft, velvety singing voice to Walter's happy whistling.

"Over the ground lies a mantle of white,
a heaven of diamonds shine down through the night.
Two hearts are thrillin'
in spite of the chill in the weather.
Sleigh bells ring;
are you listening?
In the lane,
snow is glistening.
A beautiful sight.
We're happy tonight,
walkin' in a winter wonderland..."

"You better keep your mind on breakfast, Jeffrey, or it will burn," Walter warned.

"Don't worry, Walter, they're almost done anyway."

As always, Jeffrey's cooking was delicious, and Jeffrey himself gushed compliments about the Vermont maple syrup that Walter had bought for him at the general store they had stopped at the day before. He also bombarded Walter with excited questions. "How much snow do you suppose is out there now, Walter? Does it always snow like this in New Hampshire?"

Walter gave Jeffrey his patented AD stare and asked calmly, "How much caffeine have you had this morning, Jeffrey?"

"None. I was afraid it would make me hyper." He gave Walter a smug, little boy grin over his glass of milk. He felt that it was sacrilege to mix orange juice with French toast.

Walter tossed a balled up napkin at Jeffrey. "Let's go play in the snow, little boy."

"Yay!" Jeffrey gulped down the rest of his milk and put his dishes in the sink. He pulled on all his snow gear like an excited kindergartner, with Walter fallowing more slowly. When Walter grabbed the handsaw out of the toolbox under the bench by the door, and Jeffrey asked, "What's that for, Walter?"

"For the Christmas tree."

"You mean we get to pick it out and cut it down ourselves?"

"That's the idea."

Jeffrey clapped his green, fuzzy mittens together excitedly. "Let's go!"

They had been looking for a tree for about an hour when they both smiled; they had found the perfect one. "Oh, Walter, it's perfect," Jeffrey exclaimed. Walter nodded and began to give the six-foot spruce a critical examination to make sure that it was indeed perfect. The branches were thick and full, and it was the perfect cone. Walter began to circle it, to make sure that the back was a nice as the front, when Jeffrey asked, "Walter, what are you doing?"

Walter looked at him, puzzled. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm checking out the tree."

Jeffrey put his mittened hands on his hips. "But that's the wrong one. This one is perfect."

"But, Jeffrey..." The tree that Jeffrey had indicated was also a spruce, but it's branches where thin and a little scraggly. The tree itself was a good foot shorter then the one Skinner had picked out, and there were two trunks, one slightly twisted around one another. "Jeffrey," Walter began again, "That tree is ugly."

"It is not! Look where it is; it's right under these two big pine trees and that fat spruce. It probably hardly got any light or nutrients at all, and look how far it's gotten. It's been fighting for its life here; you can't blame it if it's not as big or as strong as that one that got more light. It didn't chose its lot in life, but it did the best with what it had. It just needs us to take it in and love it, and it will be beautiful."

Walter was surprised that Jeffrey would make such a big deal out of a tree, but he suddenly realized that Jeffrey was projecting on himself. Maybe Jeffrey wasn't the strongest, or the toughest, or the most beautiful man in the world, but he had been stuck in a lousy situation and done the best he could. Walter took another look at the tree that he hadn't even noticed before, and decided it was kind of cute. As usual, Jeffrey would get his way. Walter told Jeffrey to stand back while he cut through the skinny trunk, and decided that the tree was also a better choice because it would be much easier to carry, and it wouldn't take up as much space in their little cabin. Okay, so the tree was perfect.

When they got the tree back to the cabin, Walter propped it up under the canopy over the woodpile so it could dry out before they brought it inside. When he turned around, Jeffrey was already on his knees, starting a snow-man. "I am too old to make a snow-man," he told Jeffrey.

"Nonsense," Jeffrey said. "You're in better shape than I am."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Kids build snowmen; I'm not a kid."

"Well, apparently, thirty-one year old FBI agents build snowmen too, and you are in the FBI."

"But I'm not thirty-one." Jeffrey stopped rolling his expanding ball of snow and looked up at Walter.

"Don't start that again, Walter. You are not old."

"Compared to who?"

"Me."

"And why is that?"

"Because I said so. Besides, this is a special snowman."

Walter's eyebrows rose. "And how exactly is it special?"

Jeffrey grinned. "You don't get to find out unless you help me."

Walter sighed. "Okay. I'll help you, but when we're done, we go inside and do something that I want to do."

"Anything you say, G-man," Jeffrey answered, returning to his ball of snow.

Walter stood there for a minute longer, then got on his knees and started the next segment. After Jeffrey and he had jointly added the head and cemented the three segments into place with extra snow, Jeffrey ran inside. Walter took the minute to inhale the clear, New Hampshire air. The snow was still falling and, in a moment of temporary insanity, he tiled his head back to catch some of the flakes on his tongue like a little kid.

"Ha!" Jeffrey shouted from the door of the cabin, "I knew you were having fun!"

Walter scowled at him, but made no attempt to deny it. "So what's so special about this snowman?"

"These!" Jeffrey reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a pair of wax lips and pink scarf with hearts on it. "This is a J. Edgar Hoover snowman!"

Skinner burst out laughing. The concept of a snowman in drag, an FBI agent snowman no less, was an idea so purely Jeffrey. They hastily adorned the snowman with all manner of ladies winter accessories, topped off with a pair of `Man in Black' style sunglasses for eyes.

Walter and Jeffrey were laughing hysterically as they staggered into the cabin, their faces red with the cold and the laughter. But before he could get readjusted to the warmth, Walter went back outside to get the tree. There was still some snow on it, but it probably wouldn't leave too much water on the floor.

Jeffrey had put a kettle on the stove for hot chocolate by the time Walter got back with the tree. Jeffrey took the tree so Walter could remove his boots and slip into his moccasin slippers. Together they put the tree in the stand and placed it in the corner furthest from the fireplace. Walter suggested that they wait for it to dry out a little more before decorating it, so while they waited, they sipped their hot chocolate on the couch and listened to the radio. A station out of Maine was playing Christmas carols non-stop and they hummed along cheerfully, if a little out of tune. But when Jeffrey got up to put the mugs in the sink, Walter grabbed the back of his belt and pulled him onto Walter's chest.

"Oh, no you don't," Walter whispered into Jeffrey's ear. "You said that we would do something that I want to do."

"We will, I just thought you might not want to do it on top of dirty dishes."

"I don't know," Walter sighed as he nuzzled Jeffrey's ear, "That sounds kind of kinky."

"Kinky and painful. But I'd agree if you're on the bottom."

"No deal. Let's go to the bedroom."

"You got it, Baby."

"Jeffrey," Walter growled as he got up and carried Jeffrey, caveman style, into the small bedroom. "You know I don't like it when you call me that."

"You're sending me mixed messages here, Big Guy. You say you don't like it, but you fuck me every time I say it. So which is it?"

"I ask the questions here, Agent Spender." Skinner dumped Jeffrey onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. Jeffrey then squealed as Skinner jumped on top of him.

"Walter! You're heavy; don't do that again."

"Shut up, Jeffrey," Skinner grumbled, but Jeffrey couldn't help giggling when Walter started nibbling on his ears. Jeffrey tried to speed things along by kicking his shoes off, but Walter pinned down his legs. "Did I tell you to undress, Agent Spender?"

"It was implied, Sir," Jeffrey giggled.

"Was it?"

Jeffrey nodded, still giggling.

Walter scowled. "Do you find me amusing, Agent Spender?"

"No, Sir. It's just that I am extremely ticklish."

Walter raised an eyebrow. "You're right. I had forgotten that; thanks for reminding me."

Jeffrey's eyes widened. "Forget I said that, Sir. I-" Jeffrey cut off in a howl as Walter proceeded to yank off his clothes and tickle him on every part of his body, except, of course, for the one area of his body that he wanted to be touched. "Walter!" Jeffrey screamed, whenever he found that breath. "Stop! I don't- Walter!" In his final desperation, Jeffrey tried to tickle Walter back, but Walter was on top of him, and Jeffrey couldn't get any leverage. But Walter finally stopped when he realized that Jeffrey was actually struggling.

"I hope you'll remember this little lesson the next time you consider calling me `Baby'," Walter said.

Jeffrey nodded energetically. "Reprimand accepted, Sir."

"Good, now on to more important things..." Walter then proceeded to strip himself, very efficiently, with Jeffrey's help. When all articles of clothing were removed, Walter settled on top of Jeffrey again, but Jeffrey was impatient, and tried to wiggle out from under Walter so he could retrieve the lube. "What is with you today?" Walter demanded.

Jeffrey had an annoying habit of using baby talk in bed. "Me want you. Fuck me, now! Lube..," he trailed off grasping ineffectually at the air. Walter would not let him move enough to reach the tube on the nightstand.

"Hold your horses, Little Boy," Walter scolded. "I'm running this show, remember?" But Jeffrey continued to squirm, and the friction was driving Walter to distraction. "I spoil you," he finally sighed, and leaned over to grab the lube.

Jeffrey was now on his back with Walter towering above him. Jeffrey drew up his legs so that Walter could place them where he wanted them. Walter made a show of lubing his own cock just to drive Jeffrey crazy, which he did quite successfully. Jeffrey was whining continuously by the time Walter grabbed Jeffrey's ankles and placed them on his own shoulders. He then lubed Jeffrey, preparing him carefully. Jeffrey began to pound his fists into the mattress like a frustrated child. "Walter! Fuck me know, damn it!" Walter grinned. Jeffrey gave an unholy shriek when Walter drove into him. "Oh, my God, Walter. Faster, faster!"

Walter complied, and it was not long before he climaxed with such force that his vision was filled with an explosion of star bursts. From the scream that Jeffrey gave a second later, Walter guessed that Jeffrey was experiencing his own violent orgasm. They collapsed together on the bed, and promptly fell asleep.

This time, Walter was the first awake. "Come on, Jeffrey. We need to get up now, or we'll end up cemented to these sheets. Thank God I thought to bring several extra sets."

Jeffrey sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position on shaky arms. His wound may have healed from last February, but physical exertion still took a major toll on him. Walter silently scolded himself for forgetting this. He sat back down on the bed next to Jeffrey and put his arms around him. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Jeffrey shook his head. "No, I'm okay. Just tired, I guess. A warm shower will wake me up." Jeffrey then kissed Walter deeply, tenderly. They stumbled into the bathroom and showered quickly. They both knew that if they lingered, they would end up fucking again, and Jeffrey wanted to decorate the tree as much as Walter wanted to make sure that Jeffrey did not over-exert himself.

After their shower, Walter changed the sheets and Jeffrey checked out the lights they brought for the tree to make sure that all the bulbs worked. He had to change just one bulb, and he was already wrapping the strand around the tree by the time Walter was done with the sheets. Walter helped Jeffrey with the lights and the star, but he left Jeffrey to handle the ornaments alone while Walter made lunch. When Walter returned with two, thick, club sandwiches, he halted in the doorway, frozen with surprise. Jeffrey had managed to transform the skinny, scraggly tree into a thing of beauty. The ornaments sparkled with the colored glow of the old-fashioned style lights, and Jeffrey had placed their Christmas presents under it. It was the perfect Courier and Ives Christmas tree, and Jeffrey looked perfectly adorable, shaking his presents, trying to discern what was in them.

"Leave those alone, Jeffrey. We open those no earlier than seven o'clock tomorrow morning; you agreed to that."

Jeffrey gave a long-suffering sigh and joined Walter on the couch for lunch. They passed the afternoon in pleasant conversation, stopping only to go out for more wood for the fire. Jeffrey also brushed off the additional inch of snow that was beginning to obscure J. Edgar's feminine accouterments.

They had a roaring fire going by sunset, and they spent the evening snuggling on the couch, just as Walter had hoped they would. They were both ready to go again, but Walter was afraid of pushing Jeffrey too hard. But he didn't resist when Jeffrey pounced on him and began to recite,

"T'was the night before Christmas,
and all through the shack
The Weasel Boy had his boss
flat in his back..."

"What did you call my cabin?" Walter groused.

Jeffrey nuzzled Walter's neck. "You know I love this place, but I was desperate for a rhyme."

"All right, you're forgiven. But let's take this to the bedroom. This old couch can take just so much punishment."

Jeffrey and Walter stumbled into the bedroom, stripping their clothes off each-other. They were both fully naked by the time they reached the bed. This time, Jeffrey was in charge, so he pushed Walter down onto the bed and straddled him. Walter couldn't figure out why Jeffrey was turning around, but when Jeffrey began backing up, Walter realized that they were going to indulge in one of Jeffrey's favorite positions, the 69. Walter had barely a moment to grin to himself before Jeffrey's cock was left bobbing only a few inches from Walter's face. Walter hissed as Jeffrey's hot mouth clamped onto his cock. Walter reciprocated by taking Jeffrey into his own mouth. They sucked and nibbled on each other's cocks, each increasing intensity as the sensations increased in their own cocks. Finally, Jeffrey exploded into Walter's mouth. In his ecstasy in coming, Jeffrey clamped down on Walter's cock with such a sweet passion that Walter came as well. Walter forced himself to change the sheets again before they both fell asleep.


The snow was falling again the next morning, and Jeffrey was again tugging at Walter's inert limbs. "Walter, it's Christmas! You said we get to open presents at seven. It's six fifty-five! Come on, Walter, you promised!"

Walter rolled over to face Jeffrey. "Are you sure that you're thirty-one?"

Jeffrey pouted. "Yes; what has that got to do with anything?"

Walter closed his eyes momentarily. "Nothing. And stop tugging at me; I'm getting up, damn it."

Jeffrey clapped his hands gleefully and scampered into the living room. Walter dragged himself to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. "You better have some coffee ready out there," he called to Jeffrey.

"Hot and thick, just the way you like it. And yes, I know that sounds dirty. Come on, I want to open presents!"

"Fine, fine," Walter muttered. He had to chuckle at Jeffrey's enthusiasm, even as he still wished he was in bed. But Jeffrey looked so adorable and sexy in tight jeans, topless, with a sequined Santa had on his head, that Walter forgot all about sleeping. Walter settled on the couch and let Jeffrey play Santa Claus. Jeffrey thrust the first present into Walter's hands; it was from Mulder. Jeffrey then grabbed his own gift from Mulder and they opened them together. They both received videos; Walter laughed when he read the title "In & Out", and Jeffrey loved Mulder's selection of the Mel Brooks classic "Robin Hood: Men in Tights". From Scully, both of them received the kind of murder mysteries that both of them were shamelessly addicted to. There was a bug-sweeping device from the Lone Gunmen with a card that read, "Christmas comes but once a year, but paranoia lasts forever." Jeffrey found it vastly amusing.

Finally, all that was left were their presents to each-other. Jeffrey oohed and aahed over the thick, vermilion robe that Walter gave him, and Walter adored the photo album that Jeffrey had lovingly assembled of their past ten months together. They also both gave each-other ties that could have come straight from the Fox Mulder collection. They laughed about it, and then opened their final gifts. Jeffrey became very cross with Walter when he opened the shoe-box sized present, only to discover another wrapped box inside. Inside that box was another box, and after opening that one, Jeffrey realized why Walter had done what he had done. The fourth little box obviously contained jewelry of some sort, and if he had seen it before, it would have spoiled the surprise. Jeffrey gasped when he opened the tiny jewelry box, and jumped into Walter's lap, kissing him frantically. "Oh, Walter," Jeffrey said between kisses, "I love it. I love you. This is so perfect.!" The `this' in question was a smooth, gold ring set with tiny, black stones on a gold chain.

"I wanted you to know how much you mean to me, and that I'm in this for the long haul," Walter said when Jeffrey calmed down enough to let him. Jeffrey kissed Walter deeply, then had to wipe the tears out of his own eyes.

"I love you, Walter," Jeffrey said, then fastened the chain around his slender neck. He would have liked to have worn the ring on his finger, but as long as Walter was his boss, they both knew that it was not an option.

Jeffrey then jumped out of Walter's lap so he could retrieve the last present. He handed Walter a small but surprisingly heavy box wrapped in metallic paper with a topped off with a big, red bow. Walter opened the package slowly, and laughed when Jeffrey's gift was fully revealed to him. It was a glass paperweight; suspended in the perfectly clear sphere was a standard, FBI issue bullet encircled by a perfectly smooth, gold ring. "It's so all of the FBI can see my feelings for you," Jeffrey whispered into Walter's ear.

"And I suppose the sexual symbolism was an accident?"

Jeffrey pouted. "You like it, don't you?"

Walter turned to look at him. "I love it," he said, before pulling Jeffrey into a breath-stealing kiss.

When Jeffrey could speak again, he murmured, "Merry Christmas, Walter."

"Merry Christmas, Jeffrey. Now let's see what kind of use we can get out of those God-awful ties."

"You're on, G-Man."

The End

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