TITLE: The Two Percent Solution 01: Distraction
DISTRIBUTION: Please do not archive without asking first. Thanks.
SPOILERS: Pilot (1x79)
KEYWORDS: Post-episode, Smut , Missing Scene
DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" and these characters are owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Twentieth Century Fox. I do not profit from this odd little hobby and promise to give them back when I'm done.
SUMMARY: Scully is perfectly sensible, 98% of the time.
NOTES: Thanks to Trixie, Audrey Roget and Circe Invidiosa for their suggestions and beta. Any leftover mistakes, typos, or bad writing belong to me.
The Two Percent Solution 01: Distraction
The powers that be had chosen her, she surmised, because she and Mulder were classic opposites, almost to the point of absurdity. Agent Mulder believed in aliens while Agent Scully depended on quantifiable science. He'd spent time in Violent Crimes, profiling, out in the field. So far all she'd done was teach at Quantico. Tall and sarcastic versus short and straightforward. He sounded like a troublemaker; she toed the Bureau line. It might be that they hoped Mulder would be so bothered by being second-guessed that he'd wave a white flag.
Scully wasn't sure they'd met the same Agent Mulder she had.
Handsome in an offbeat way, he seemed to want to shock her with his theories, actually seemed to delight in it during his little slideshow. She split her attention between the slides and his features. Dead girl, no known cause. Mulder lecturing like a hot English professor. Two odd little lumps on the girl's lower back. Possibly insect bites or needle marks, Scully told him, while silently noting that the shape of Mulder's greenish eyes reminded her of Richard Gere. The structural breakdown of the tissue, looking like nothing she'd seen before, but chemistry hadn't been her best subject. Mulder, charmingly confident in his assertions that this wasn't something that could be explained by known science, and telling her to pack a bag because they were off to Oregon in the morning to investigate.
Her plan was to do this X-Files job and do it well for a few years, and move up from there. She didn't want to be stuck in that basement forever, especially if all she was really supposed to do was babysit the guy. This could be her sink-or-swim moment. Her reports would be analyzed by Section Chief Blevins himself. Up until yesterday she doubted he'd even heard of her.
Being Mulder's nanny might not be the fast track, but it would be more challenging than teaching. She'd also have the chance to work in the field, alongside this brilliant profiler, on cases outside the mainstream. Mulder was definitely not mainstream. 'Spooky,' they called him. He'd been the hottest thing going in VCU a few years back, making intuitive leaps and getting inside the heads of some very intense criminals. She knew his little sister had been missing since they were kids. That had to have affected him in ways she couldn't even imagine. It was rumored that he spent half his time looking for her rather than working on real cases these days.
Over the next few days, it became clear that Bellefleur, Oregon sounded nicer than it was. It was less beautiful flower, more scary fucking forest. The job had been Scully's for less than two days and she'd already autopsied a nonhuman corpse and visited a psych hospital where a couple of 20-year-olds, who Mulder claimed were alien abductees, had the mysterious marks on their backs. She and her new partner had been run out of the scary fucking forest by the town's asshole of a sheriff, and, according to Mulder, lost nine minutes, as if such a thing were even possible. He'd actually been jubilant when it - whatever it was - had happened out there on the road. She'd been dazzled by his zeal, not to mention unnerved by the nature of the case. It had been quite an introduction to field work.
So she blamed first-time field jitters on what happened next. When the hotel's power went out, as she undressed for a shower she discovered a couple of lumps on her lower back, like the ones she'd seen on those kids. She may have panicked a little. Or more than a little – she'd been scared to death out in those woods earlier. She felt idiotic, knocking at his door in her robe and dropping it the second she walked in, but Mulder took it in stride, kneeling to look at her lower back, the pads of his fingers warm on her skin as he examined the marks. Assuring her she'd merely been bitten by mosquitoes, he let her take comfort in his arms for a moment. Overwhelmed with relief, she took a step back then impulsively flung herself at him again, this time pulling his head down for a kiss. He let her kiss him, but didn't kiss her back, didn't touch her at all, except where his lips met hers. Scully realized she was going it alone and backed away, turning to leave. Reaching for her hand, Mulder spun her back into him, almost as if they were dancing. "Scully," he whispered into her hair, "I … I shouldn't let you do this, but I don't want you not to."
The double negative threw her for a second. "I shouldn't let me do this either," she admitted, contemplating the carpet. "I need to sit down."
"Take your time," Mulder said. He sat down opposite her, and waited for her to look up at him. "It's up to you. I'm fine either way. But Scully … it can't get in the way of my work. I can't let it. Do you understand?" He betrayed himself a little when he looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips, and she saw how much he wanted her, no matter what he said. Mulder had bedroom eyes. 'Fine either way' indeed.
She was so young, so reckless. It was career suicide, but she wanted him and was too impetuous to keep it hidden. Her sister was always saying that Dana was book smart but life stupid, and Scully agreed with Missy for once. Ninety-eight percent of the time she was balanced, brainy and by the book. But that other two percent, the two percent she tried to suppress, could be fiery and frivolous and flighty.
It wasn't natural, the amount of time, effort and energy she'd put into college, med school, and the FBI Academy. She'd been a very diligent student, and that's how she planned to conduct herself in her career as well - but once in a while she simply needed a break, to touch and be touched by a warm, live man, and stop thinking so hard. She wouldn't call herself promiscuous, because it was such a rare occurrence, but every so often she used sex to keep her feeling human.
She had an affair with a married professor in med school, and since apparently she didn't learn from her mistakes, she dated one of her instructors at Quantico . Life stupid. Besides the slight impropriety, in the end, she knew Jack wasn't for her. The passion wasn't there, and she simply didn't love him enough to continue. It wasn't fair to either of them.
She hadn't dated anyone since, and when she had those rebellious urges - when she'd been senseless enough to follow through – she'd indulged far, far from Quantico. Her libido was well hidden at work; she kept her head down, was pleasant but avoided emotional entanglements, and adopted a mask of aloofness and professionalism. Maybe once a year, she'd have sex with someone she'd picked up in a bar. Once she fucked a guy she met at a car wash. They did it in an alley, up against a wall, next to a Dumpster, in the bright light of day. She never got his name.
It actually worked for her, having anonymous sex. No strings, at this point in her life, was a good thing. Frankly, she didn't have the time or inclination for anything more. So why she was about to throw away her playbook completely and screw another colleague when she knew it was unwise was a mystery. They'd be spending most of their days together and some of their nights, and she wasn't sure but Blevins had said she'd be assisting Mulder, so technically Mulder was probably her boss. She'd wanted to taste Mulder's lips since she first saw them, though. Now that she'd felt them on her own, she only wanted more. "I won't let it get in the way," she said, "but only if you really want it, Mulder. It's not worth getting fired over, and I do still have to write up reports on these cases, so I don't want you to think-"
"Look at me," he demanded, a bitter edge to his voice. "Tell me now, Scully. Were you asked to do this? To seduce me?"
She'd been dumbfounded and, after his words penetrated her brain, furious. Heat rose in her face and chest, anger prickling like needles. She tried to speak but merely opened and closed her mouth, no words coming. Fox Mulder didn't know her. He was paranoid, delusional, so to him she was just someone sent to spy on him.
Finding her voice, she kept it low and even, willing herself not to let him see her cry on her first case, no matter how impulsive she'd been. "No, Agent Mulder. Nobody asked me to make a complete idiot of myself. I don't know whether I should be insulted or flattered by that accusation. Believe me, it won't happen again, and it's definitely not going in my field report."
Scully turned to leave but Mulder grabbed her arm again. She tried to wrench herself away but he held fast as they both stood. He was annoying her now, and she was about to knee him in the groin when he spoke, his quiet voice breaking a little. "Don't go. Talk to me. Don't leave like this." She shot a warning glance at his eyes, then down at his large hand surrounding her tiny wrist, and he let go as if she'd burned him. "I'm sorry. Stay. Please." He's lonely, she thought.
Returning to the chair, she rubbed at her wrist the way a perp did after getting his handcuffs removed, and for his part Mulder sank to the floor, leaning against the bed. Smart of him. Less threatening, to move away and position himself lower than she was. They studied each other, each assessing the situation for a few minutes while rainy moonlit shadows danced about the room. Finally he spoke again. "Scully ... I can't let myself be distracted by you. I can't."
Why was she still considering it at this point? She should go back to her room. But the two percent was winning tonight. "Mulder, I'm not here to distract you. I don't have any illusions here. We both have jobs to do. I took leave of my senses there for a minute. I was … anxious about this case, and it was unprofessional of me." She sighed. If it meant their partnership was over before it started, she could at least be honest, for both their sakes. "I just wanted you," she admitted.
"Jesus, Scully." He surveyed her body from top to bottom then back up. Slowly. "You can't think I don't want you, do you? I want you plenty. I wanted you the second you walked in my door. I want you on every surface in this room, and I'm only sorry the surfaces aren't nicer and more plentiful." And then he smiled and she was lost. She felt like hot honey was slowly coating her from the inside out.
"You won't be distracted?" she asked.
"You won't report me for sexual harassment?" he countered.
"No," she laughed. "If anyone should be reported, it's me. …I won't let you be diverted, Mulder. I'm not here to shut down your X-Files. We're both searching for the truth in these cases. Work is work. We're off the clock now. This…" she gestured back and forth between Mulder and herself, "this isn't work."
"It's the opposite of work." He smiled again, and she melted a little inside again.
He couldn't possibly be worth the aggravation. She could have sex with any number of men, preferably men she didn't have to work with, so why was she suddenly set on this one, probably the most inappropriate choice she could make, a choice that could affect her future? Was it that she hadn't had sex in a long time? Or was it adrenaline from finding those damn mosquito bites? Sleeping her way up the FBI ladder had never been her strategy, and even if it had, she wouldn't start such a career climb by having sex in this shabby motel in Oregon.
Yet there was something atypically attractive about Mulder. She was turned on by his odd brain, his long fingers, and his absolute certainty, even if she didn't share it. And those lips were deadly, and he hadn't even been trying.
"Scully?" Mulder interrupted her thoughts. "Are we done talking about this now?" There was heat in his eyes.
"I think so," she said, rising from the chair. She moved to the bed and sat down. If there had been a neon orange line spray-painted on the floor it couldn't have been more obvious that she'd just crossed it.
Mulder rose and joined her. "Is your wrist okay?" he asked, and she nodded. He nodded as well, and immediately went for the tie of her robe. She let him push the lapels open, and his hand tickled over her ribs as his thumb rose up to caress just below her bra, making her nipples tighten without even touching her there yet. She wished she'd worn nicer underwear, but she'd be paying off med school student loans forever on government wages. She tended to spend her meager self-imposed allowance on business clothing, and hadn't expected anyone to be seeing her lingerie out here in the woods in Oregon.
He didn't kiss her, just touched her for a long while, palming her breasts through her bra; one fingertip slid along her collarbone, and he tilted her head up so he could see her face while his hands wandered and mapped her body. Fingers on her back, beneath the hooks and eyes of her bra, then traveling down to sneak into her panties and lightly squeeze her ass. Scully was starting to feel self-conscious, though very turned on. She was close to naked while he remained fully clothed in jeans, a grey t-shirt and a denim shirt over that. He smelled of rain and the forest, damp and earthy. She probably did too. It didn't seem like he wanted her to touch him yet, so she just sat and allowed him to explore her body. His hands on her were almost reverent, and the look in his eyes was both studious and carnal. This was supposed to be just sex, she thought, as she realized this wasn't going to be a quick fuck. How could she keep her wits about her when he looked through her like he could see the parts of her she wanted to keep secret? Yet she couldn't turn away. He was like a tractor beam. She chuckled at the thought.
"What's so funny?" he whispered. She just shook her head, as if to say, You don't want to know, don't worry about it. "As long as you're laughing with me and not at me, Scully."
"With you," she said. And finally he kissed her, no longer gentle. He hauled her mouth to his and plunged inside, his fingers tangling in her hair as he palmed her skull. After a startled second Scully grabbed at the back of his neck and returned his kisses with abandon. This guy could kiss, and his lips were soft but his touch was firm, just the way she liked it. She'd had to train men to kiss her like this, and here he was leading with it. He gathered her body into his while their tongues tangled; there was something erotic about the way he kissed as if it was his purpose in life. Yes. Mulder was a tractor beam. She couldn't make herself pull back even if she wanted to.
After a minute or five, she pushed him away just far enough to nudge the denim shirt off his shoulders, and he shrugged it the rest of the way off. "This, too," she said, grasping at the hem of his t-shirt. He reached behind his neck and pulled it over his head from the back, in the way only men did. Now she had a chance to study him like he'd done to her, using hands and lips and tongue to feel every bit of skin she wanted. That mole on his cheek, the shell of his ear, those nice shoulders and upper arms. He worked out, she thought. Dressed, he looked a little soft, like a desk jockey, but the muscles were smooth and strong beneath his skin, and his body was lean, harder than it appeared at first glance. Firm biceps, defined abs, nice pectorals. She grazed her fingernails over his nipples and he rewarded her with a growly gasp and a flutter of his eyelids. "You like that, Mulder?"
"Oh yeah." She tongued his nipples and licked perspiration off his chest, and he went back to work on her, hands everywhere. It was almost like being massaged. Firm strokes from her neck down to the top of her ass and back up. Large warm fingers spanning her waist, cradling her scapulae, coming around to lightly trace her clavicles, then his lips dragging over the spots his fingers had just been. He tasted her skin, licking her sternal notch, struggling with the clasp of her bra before getting it unhooked after about thirty awkward seconds. She leaned forward to help him slide it down her arms and it went the way of his shirts, somewhere on the floor.
"Mmmm, naked breasts," he said lewdly, doing a Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle, and she laughed as he put those hands on her tits. "I like these, Scully. These are nice." He was being ridiculous but doing all the right things: lifting, squeezing, pinching. Mulder let go to guide her onto her back, her head near the foot of the bed. Straddling her, he bent to her mouth, giving her a quick kiss before putting those nice lips of his to work on her left breast. Kissing it all over, licking the underside, and finally sucking her nipple into his mouth, seemingly unaware he was humming on it. It felt so good, as if the vibrations started in her chest and traveled up to her throat, down to her belly and beyond; she could feel this in her fingertips, behind her eyes, and between her legs. Long moments passed this way, his mouth on her, her aroused sighs and his happy hums escaping into the air. He started to pull quite hard, to a point where she might tell him to stop, but he eased off at just that point. His mouth was quite a revelation. She tugged his other hand to her right breast and covered it with her own as they both squeezed and fondled. She held his head to her chest while he suckled and nibbled, and her back arched in an involuntary request for more. Mulder shoved her tits together, tonguing both nipples at once, tilting his gaze up to see if this was okay. It was very okay. So okay she just moaned in his general direction and hoped he knew it was a happy moan.
Scully's hands went to the parts of him she could reach, his neck, chest, shoulders – she loved the feel of his shoulders under her fingers – then down his arms and further, scratching her nails down his quadriceps through his jeans. "These … need to come off," she said.
"Not yet," he said as he disengaged his mouth from her nipples, leaving them wet with saliva and startlingly erect. "I haven't tasted all of you yet, Scully." Nobody had ever called her 'Scully' during sex. Nobody had called her that since she was at the academy, probably. It was Dr. Scully or Agent Scully, or Dana outside work. It was probably better this way, she thought. Less intimate, not using first names. She made a mental note. Not Fox. Mulder. Mulder. Mulder. She had a habit of repeating something three times as a mnemonic device. While she was deciding to only use his last name, he was kissing down her belly, scooting himself off her legs, sliding her damp panties down as he went.
She shut her eyes then, thinking, Oh God, it feels so good but it's such a bad idea; what are you thinking, Dana?, and then he nudged her legs apart and his breath was warm and humid on her. She rose up on her elbows and looked down her body to find him wide-eyed. Shamelessly ogling her pussy, exhaling hot breaths between her thighs. "Stop staring," she ordered him. "You're making me nervous."
"No reason to be nervous," he said, looking at her face while he spoke. "You're beautiful." She'd examined herself in a mirror before and thought it looked weird. Though she knew her vulva and vagina were perfectly normal, she wasn't exactly objective about it. Men liked female genitalia. This man in particular seemed quite happy to inspect hers at close range, but it still made her feel self-conscious.
"Either get to work down there or stop looking at it," she told him. Her high state of arousal was making her impatient.
Some men are too lazy to perform cunnilingus, or just don't like it, the way some women don't like giving blow jobs, but Mulder apparently wasn't either of those types of men. He saluted, said, "Yes, ma'am," and started kissing her inner thighs, sending shivers down to her toes and up to her hairline. Hands under her ass, he lifted her a fraction and started tonguing her all over, first the labia majora then zeroing on the labia minora, pulling a little with his teeth, maybe? It felt incredible, and was a different touch than she'd felt before; she didn't know quite what he was doing down there and wanted to ask. Scully couldn't speak just now, though, since her teeth were sunk into her bottom lip so hard they might draw blood. Holding up her head was no longer an option either, and falling off the end of the bed was becoming a real possibility, because Mulder was burrowing into her with his lips and tongue now, his ardor impelling her backward.
She felt very hot already, and embarrassingly wet. She'd always liked this but didn't usually get worked up so quickly from it. One of his hands came out from under her and he started pinching or flicking her clitoris. So good. Pinching, she thought. Plucking like a harpist. Humming as he ate at her – he hums when he's happy - and then he added a finger inside. Oh God oh God oh GOD, he was hitting her g-spot ... She reached down to grab him by the hair and hold him where he was, because if he stopped doing this she would kill him. She ground herself into his mouth and hand, and heard herself say his name, his last name: "Mulder, Mulder … yes, there, oh God yesssss," and then was that another finger, maybe two more? The orgasm hit her like a flash fire, heat shocking her pussy, her face, her chest. Mulder's mouth was everything, everywhere. A feeling of joy spread out from her clit, rocketing through her as her body tensed up as if it was trying to hold onto the elusive sensation, to never let it end. Honest to God, Dana Scully forgot to breathe and nearly blacked out. It had never felt quite like that before. She heard herself huffing air, still moaning on an endorphin high, her body continuing to twitch and writhe with pleasure.
Mulder was laughing.
"You'd better … be … laughing with me," she got out after a moment, catching her breath. "Jesus, Mulder."
"That may be the best thing I've ever seen," he said, chuckling, a hand on her abdomen soothing her. "You're delicious." He looked … very happy. Not arrogant, but delighted, like she'd given him a '64 Mustang or a pony. She got the idea he'd enjoyed that nearly as much as she had. Which was ridiculous since she may have never have enjoyed anything so much in her life.
"I don't … it's never…" She didn't even know what she was trying to say.
Mulder moved to sweetly kiss her on the cheek, and gently shifted her body before she fell onto the floor. Her feet now touched the headboard, and he grabbed a pillow to put beneath her head.
"You nearly knocked me off the bed," he said. "Good thing I went to rodeo school."
"I'd tell you to fuck off if that wasn't the best orgasm I've had in..." Well, ever. "Try not to let it go to your head, but I'm still feeling it." She was pulsing, deep inside, feeling peace and light as if she was on some really good drugs. And feeling very generous, but too dazed to do anything about it yet. "Give me a minute here and I'll try to make you feel this good. Take off your pants, for God's sake."
"You're funny when you're satisfied, Scully." He leaned over her to kiss her again, leisurely. God, that mouth of his, giving her taste back to her as his hand smoothed back her damp hair. Her heart rate was returning to normal and the perspiration all over her skin was cooling her off now. She idly reached for him, her hand on the side of his face, the pad of her thumb rubbing over his talented lips.
"Mulder ... you've got a great mouth." She finally started kissing him in earnest, still amazed that he'd known just which buttons of hers to push. They'd said he was a crack profiler and now she had proof. Dana catalogued what she knew so far of Fox Mulder, sexually speaking. Very oral. Tactile. Generous. Eager. Funny. Unselfish. Picked up on nonverbal cues and took direction.
So. Other than the fact that she hadn't seen let alone touched his penis yet, and of course the fact she worked with him and this was still a terrible idea, Fox Mulder was pretty much the perfect lover. She doubted she could cultivate his sense of humor in the next five minutes, but the other traits, she could definitely mimic. She was already oral and tactile, and generosity, eagerness, and unselfishness were easy too, especially after she'd come on his face. She took direction well when she wanted to, and would try to pick up on his signals. If she could ignore her own. She was already getting worked up again from these kisses.
Scully urged Mulder onto his back now that it was her turn to play. "Be gentle," he joked, but she'd already discerned that he liked it both gentle and not-so-gentle, so she was going to have some fun either way.
"Pants, Mulder." The top button on his fly was already free and she roughly pulled the rest out of their holes, shoving his jeans down his hips until he lifted up so she could get them off his ass, about to pull from the hems when she realized that he didn't wear underwear but still had his shoes on for God's sake. "Oh my God," she muttered, impatiently pulling off his boots and socks before finally, thank God, his pants were off and he was naked.
Scully licked her lips, wondering what to touch and taste first. His cock was already hard, probably had been for a while now, but no, that was too obvious a choice. She did give it a quick inspection, though, lightly palming him up one side and down the other, just to feel it in her hand. It was fairly long and maybe a little thicker than average, with a nice head. All in all, a fine specimen, and her arousal doubled at the thought of having him inside her. He twitched in her hand and sighed a happy sigh. "Mmm, Scully…"
"Turn over," she said, giving his cock a quick stroke and nudging his hip. Mulder complied with a grumble, which turned to a moan when Scully ran her hands over his butt. Agent Mulder had a very nice ass. She'd admired it in his office, but it was much more impressive when it wasn't hidden under pants. She used the heels of her hands on both cheeks before giving them both a nice squeeze. Nice and firm. If he was a melon she'd definitely choose him. She swung a leg over to seat herself on his ass, facing his feet. Long legs, slim. She leaned forward and smoothed her hands down the backs of his legs, all the way to his feet. She was lying on him now, her toes somewhere by his shoulders, her pussy on his ass, her breasts on his thighs. She'd seen a few videos of nuru massage and this was like that, only she and Mulder weren't slathered in oil, so it wouldn't be as slippery. "This okay?" she asked. She wasn't heavy but all her weight was on him so it was only polite.
"Very okay," she heard from behind her. She reached down to rub his feet, trying to remember acupressure points but failing to recall all but the important ones. She doubted he cared much about his gallbladder at the moment anyway. She massaged the soles of his feet, not light enough to tickle, not hard enough to hit any pressure points and make him want to urinate or something. "Got a foot fetish, Scully?" Mulder said, and she felt his hand on her right foot. As long as he didn't make her pee either, she was fine with it.
"Not a fetish, just being thorough," she said. "I plan to touch you everywhere, so I'm working up to the important spots." She pressed down with her thumbs on his inner heels, on a location that was supposed to correspond to his testicles. She didn't know if it worked but he did let out a nice moan, so at least he liked it. Her thumbs then dug into the spot on his heel, the genital spot. She felt a hard squeeze on her instep as he bucked up a little beneath her. Yeah, she'd found it. Most forms of alternative medicine were hooey but this had some practical applications. She gave his feet a few more caresses and rose up a bit, the ends of her hair brushing his calves as she kissed them, his leg hairs tickling her nipples, pulling a little moan from her own mouth. She didn't know if this was doing anything for Mulder, but it was sure doing something for her. She rubbed her torso against him and he groaned. Good, he was getting something out of it … she licked the back of his right knee, then the left. Slightly ticklish, if his involuntary twitches were anything to go by, but he didn't complain. She leaned up and again sat on his ass to massage his thighs, envious of his long legs and lean muscles. "Feels so good," he said. It was so nice not to be rushed. She liked being an explorer.
When she raised up to flip around and straddle him the other way, she was slightly startled to see that Mulder's ass was soaked with her arousal. She could smell herself on him. "Sorry," she said, rubbing it into him like lotion. "I … got you kind of messy." She enjoyed touching his rear end again, in any case.
Mulder opened his eyes, or at least the one she could see, and looked back at her. "Let me give you a tip, Scully. There's not a man on Earth who will ever not think it's mind-blowing that you're that wet for him."
Again with the double negatives, but she smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."
Damn. She liked him.
Now facing the same direction as he was, she got to give Mulder a real backrub, starting at the base of his spine and working her way up, attending to each muscle group as she went. Emboldened by his tip, she took the opportunity to grind against him as she massaged his shoulders and upper back. She'd never done this, rubbed herself against a man's ass, but it was arousing for her. She leaned down, breasts pressed into his skin, and whispered in his ear. "I'm getting wetter as we speak." Mulder thrust his hips into the bed and back up a few times.
"Fuck, Scully, I'm so hard right now."
Fuck indeed, Scully thought. She rose up onto her knees and gave his shoulder a nudge. "Turn over." Mulder twisted beneath her until he was on his back, facing her again, eyelids at half mast, one side of his face a little creased from the bedspread. Gorgeous. His cock was inches from her opening; she could be on him in a flash. But she didn't move quickly, and he did. Mulder rose up like an ocean wave, arms immediately surrounding her, tongue in her mouth, chest tight to hers, his penis introducing itself to her clit, sliding against her. Too much, too much, she thought, and she scooted her pelvis back, to save her sanity and because he wasn't wearing a condom. Mulder pulled away from the kiss with a questioning look. "Too much," she told him.
She scrambled backward and before he could answer, she had her mouth on his cock, which she swore had grown since the last time she saw it. She was thrilled to finally taste him. She licked from root to tip, over and over. She swiped a hand between her legs, and used the moisture on him, wetting his cock, then licking the taste of herself off him. Not bad at all, the way she and he tasted. "Balls, Mulder?" she asked.
He murmured, a questioning noise. She peered up and saw his confusion. "Can I suck them?" she clarified. Some men loved it, some couldn't stand it. Always better to ask.
"Shiiiit yeah," Mulder said with a grin, his head falling back on his shoulders. She laughed, her hand slowly fisting up and down his length as she cradled his balls in her other hand. Leaning all the way down, she licked his testes, then took one in her mouth. Something about the smell of him was driving her crazy. This is how animals find their mate, she thought. She lightly sucked and hollowed her cheeks around his left testicle and heard the sexiest groan from above, so she did the same to the other. She could do this all night; he was like salty candy on her tongue. Opening wide, she wrapped her lips around both at once, and gently sucked. She looked up to see Mulder staring down at her with those nice lips of his parted in awe. She must have presented quite the slutty picture with her mouth full and his cock lying across her face. "Scu… Scully… Sc…" He gave up on speech, fell completely back onto the bed, and she chuckled around him. This whole thing was either the worst or best idea of her life. She had to work with this guy tomorrow, but tonight she was going to die if she didn't suck his dick.
She let his testicles fall from her mouth, blew on them a little and wrapped her lips around the tip of Mulder's very erect cock. She swirled her tongue around the head as she used her hand on the shaft. God, he tasted good. Most men didn't taste that great, but this guy did. Salt, clean sweat, a little of herself and a little precum, all mixing on her tongue and making Scully ridiculously pleased. Mulder put a hand on her shoulder while she sucked him, just anchoring himself. She pushed further, using less hand and more mouth on each stroke until her hand fell away and she used it to cradle his balls. Up and down, over and over, loving the feel of his ridged cock sliding past her lips and over her tongue. She already imagined it inside her, those ridges hitting her tender spots. She was taking him pretty deep now, deeper than she probably should but she loved it and kept going, letting him hit the back of her throat, and after ten more strokes or so he squeezed her shoulder as he thrust up hard, gagging her for a second before extracting himself from her mouth entirely too soon for her liking. He quickly grabbed the base of his cock. "Too much," he explained. "God, I want to fuck you, Scully."
"Yes," she answered without hesitation. She'd been ready for ages, and sucking his cock had ramped up her arousal. And then, shit, she had to be practical. "Please tell me you have a condom." Because she was reckless, but she wasn't that reckless, and she didn't want to break the mood by having to go to her room for one. She hadn't been expecting this, but she always had at least one condom in her purse. She was an MD and a woman in the '90s.
"Yeah…" he said. "Just a second." He got up from the bed on shaky legs and absently looked around the room before finally locating his suitcase and rummaging in it to return with a strip of three condoms. He studied them closely for a second before blushing a little. "Making sure they're still good," he admitted. How on earth this man would, in any reality, have so little sex that his condoms could conceivably expire was a mystery to her sex-addled brain. "They're fine, I promise. Good 'til 1996. You can see for yourself." He tore one off and flipped the other two towards her. She didn't bother to check them. She was still thinking of how good he'd felt in her mouth.
"I have to admit, Scully," he said, as he rolled the condom on, "I wasn't expecting you to be so good at that, not when you walked into my office hiding yourself under that prissy little plaid blazer." He crawled over her, easing her down to her back as he kissed her. She thought he might enter her right away, but he seemed in no hurry after all. He leisurely kissed her face, her chest, her breasts.
"Women who enjoy performing oral sex don't advertise the fact," she told him, massaging his neck. "We'd never get any sleep if everyone knew." Mulder laughed against her, taking her right nipple into his mouth, bending her over his arm, biting her now; seriously, how did he know just how to treat her tits? She supposed he couldn't stop profiling, even on his off hours. Probably compulsive about it. He glanced at her as he lightly clamped his teeth around her nipple and pulled, holding it out, letting his teeth scrape her before she fell out of his mouth, then soothing it with his tongue as he gauged her reaction. So sexy, and the sound she made, or the fact her eyes rolled back in her head, must have clued him in that she liked that a lot. He squeezed, now avoiding the tender nipple, while he moved his head to the left breast, giving it the same treatment. Scully was finding it hard to keep her eyes open but didn't want to miss anything, since this was the first and last time they'd be doing this. His mouth was filled with her left tit now and he was biting down again. She was sighing and moaning continuously, and had started swiping her fingers over her clit. "God, Mulder. Just fuck me, I can't take it anymore." It wasn't the constant pleasure she couldn't take. It was the need to have him inside her that was driving her to distraction.
He only had to shift over a little to be in the right spot but he hesitated. "This okay? This position?" he asked. She should ask him to take her from behind – she wasn't likely to orgasm this way, and it would be less personal when they couldn't see each other's eyes. But he'd already watched her come, so what was the point? She nodded and that was it. No hesitation, no gentleness. It was all or nothing and he'd chosen all, thrusting in swiftly and completely. She grunted at the sudden onslaught. It felt brutal but so, so good. She loved this part. He looked concerned so she nodded again and tried to smile, unable to speak. Back out and in, so hard and hot, with a happy sigh on his lips, oh fuck she could feel those little ridges - he was ribbed for her pleasure - and she opened her legs wider and wrapped them around him, trying to relax.
But she couldn't relax; her body was practically seizing with euphoria, the sensation of his cock filling her, and she was close to coming without expecting to be, and her mind was going faster than fast with the folly of it. So stupid - so good - Mulder pounding into her - how could he feel this amazing when she'd only met him day before yesterday? She grasped at his arms, watching him above her, his sweaty effort to please her superfluous because any more pleasure and she'd die from it, and her headstone would say she'd been fucked to death and was happy to go that way because she was doing what she loved. She laughed and felt her climax knocking at the door. "Mulder, Mulder, yes, God, right there…" and she reached down to slide her fingers over her clit in hard little circles and off she went. All her words were lost, and her body wasn't her own for some time because she was made of blue flame and pure rapture. After an indeterminate amount of time she realized she was screaming, and she'd never even been a screamer.
Mulder was almost there himself, or about to have an aneurysm, she wasn't sure. Eyes shut tight, jaw clenched, purposeful. His thrusts sped up to an insane rate before he pushed in hard and deep and stayed there, a long sexy growl of her name escaping him as he came. She was still thrumming, delightful little tremors inside her squeezing his cock without conscious effort on her part. She brushed her fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back from his forehead, and then his arms gave out and he collapsed on her with a heavy thud.
She didn't want to be rude and shove him off her right away but she needed to breathe, so she maneuvered until they were on their sides facing each other, one of her legs still wrapped around his hip. Mulder hadn't opened his eyes yet and was panting like he'd been chased by wild dogs, though he looked so relaxed now, boneless. His cock gave a reflexive little move inside her and even that felt great. Jesus, he had her number. She kept stroking his hair. They were both drenched; they could have done this in the ocean and been drier.
"Mulder," she whispered. He stirred a little and hummed. Not quite an answer. "Mulder," she repeated, a little louder. "Can I use your shower?"
"Mmmyeah," he said, still not waking up fully. "In there." He moved his arm in no particular direction to illustrate his point. Finally he opened his eyes halfway, and she could almost hear him trying to focus on her. He leaned in and gave her a drowsy kiss. "Yesyoucanusemyshower," he slurred into her mouth. It was a complete sentence, so she took it he knew where he was and what he was saying. She pulled herself out of his arms, wetly sliding off his cock, sad to leave it behind. She sat on the bed a moment, hoping her legs would hold her. Mulder rolled onto his back, already dead to the world.
Slowly, Scully stood, making her way to the bathroom. There was a candle burning on the counter so she could see well enough. She'd just do the minimum, and get back to her own hotel room, with her own things; her toothbrush was about her most important possession in the world right now. She turned on the shower, looking in the mirror at what she could see of herself in the dim light as the water heated up. Her hair's natural waves were evident in this humid weather. She usually straightened it these days but perspiration and humidity were not her friends.
Mulder had left his mark. Her nipples looked slightly abused. There were distinct tooth marks around her right areola, she was flushed all over, and there was some darker redness at her collarbone from the combination of his razor stubble and her necklace. Swollen lips. On the right side of her neck, a small hickey… she didn't even remember him doing that. He'd been all over his with his hands and mouth. God, that mouth.
She stepped into the shower and let the water soothe her for a minute before soaping up, trying not to overanalyze things. Her thighs already ached a little, and as she lathered different tender spots all over her body, she suspected more little bruises were likely to show up by morning.
After giving herself a good cleaning, getting rid of all their sweat and arousal, she washed her hair with hotel-issue shampoo. She'd recently dyed her hair, trying to be less of a redhead. A lot of fucking good that had done. This cheap shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one wasn't going to do the dye job any favors and there wasn't much point since Mulder now knew she was a redhead. Women with red hair, or so it was rumored, felt pain and pleasure more acutely, were harder to anesthetize, and had more sex than blondes or brunettes. She'd fought that reputation at the FBI since she and Jack broke up, dyeing her hair a boring medium brown, letting people think she was cold and clinical, and avoiding having sex with any more colleagues. Well, until tonight. She could be both cold and clinical, yes, but it wasn't her whole story, and now she'd let her new partner read the missing pages.
Yeah, she'd fucked up this assignment with alarming speed. Hopefully Mulder's reputation as a loner and outsider was true, because what she needed least in the world was for him to mention to anyone at the FBI that he'd bagged Special Agent Dana Scully on their first case. She wanted to maintain her carefully cultivated image. Keeping that two percent of herself hidden, when he'd already seen it, was going to be difficult.
Turning off the shower and stepping out, she grabbed blindly for a towel. It smelled like Mulder. And then he was there, in the small bathroom, turned half away from her and holding out her robe. "Thought you might want this," he said quietly to the wall before withdrawing. She quickly got herself dry enough to put the robe on, towel-dried her hair, swirled some of his mouthwash around her mouth and went back out to face her fate.
Mulder had tidied up the room; you'd never know from the looks of the place that they'd been having blazing hot sex less than fifteen minutes ago. The bed was completely made. He sat by the window, leaning his elbows on jean-clad knees. Her panties and bra sat neatly at the foot of the bed, and the rest of his clothes were folded on the other chair. "Hey," she said.
"Hey," he returned. "Will you wait here? I want to talk to you." He didn't look at her.
"Fine," she said, resignation in her voice. Mulder grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom. She heard the shower come on, and put on her underwear and wrapped her robe back around herself. The room had gotten chilly so she grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and sank down on the bed, not wanting to disturb it any more than was necessary since he apparently didn't want any evidence of what they'd done. But she could still smell their lovemaking. She closed her eyes, knowing that she was fucked. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, Dana, and she'd most definitely damned herself by doing.
She hadn't done anything wrong, but she hadn't done anything right either. The right thing, the smart thing, would have been to leave him alone, to not push. She always pushed people too far. Sometimes she pressured them and they ran; more often she simply pushed them away herself. When she'd heard about this assignment, she'd promised herself not to do either, and her vow had lasted something like sixty hours, breaking all land speed records for stupidity. She was pretty sure Mulder was going to come right out and say, "Thanks for the fuck but I can't work with you now, so get out of my office." She rested her head on the pillow and willed herself to stop speculating.
An unknown time later, Mulder woke her with a gentle touch to her shoulder. He was again fully dressed, even had his shoes on. "I've been thinking," he said. "A lot."
Ah. Fox Mulder was nothing if not cerebral. Usually about bizarre happenings, but now about her, too. "What'd you come up with?"
"First… I've never had sex like that. Ever." He looked down at her and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "You're amazing, Scully. I may never get to feel like that again and the thought makes me want to cry. But I can't let myself fall for you. I … I can't." He hung his head and slumped to the floor, leaning back on the bed like he'd done earlier. "As much as I'd love to sink into you, all night every night, I have to find my sister Samantha … I have to find out what happened to her, who took her. And I need the FBI's resources to do that."
It didn't sound like he was kicking her out of his basement. He was just kicking her out of his bed. It would be better for both of them, anyway. He needed to concentrate; she needed to concentrate. Sex with Mulder had been … there weren't even words for how good he'd made her feel. The thought of never having him again made her want to cry, too. But it was the right thing, for both of them. She sighed. She could do this. No distractions. Just the work.
"Tell me about her, Mulder. What happened to her?"
"I was twelve when it happened. My sister was eight. She just disappeared out of her bed one night." He told her of Samantha's disappearance, about his going off to college and discovering the X-Files project, and of some sort of government agenda he believed was trying to thwart him, then his regression hypnosis … he became less credible the longer he spoke.
He was interrupted by a call about the case and off they went again, out into the dark rainy night. Despite thinking Mulder was deluded, she had to admit that something sinister was going on when they returned hours later to find their hotel rooms – and almost all the evidence they'd gathered so far - burning to the ground. Damn it, her computer was in there, all her clothes.
Trouble seemed to follow Fox Mulder. She'd be smart to ignore her attraction to him, and that's what she planned to do from now on. It would be easy … ninety-eight percent of the time.
- The End -