Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mulder quietly slides off the sofa, his lithe form maneuvering its way like a rehearsed dance around the familiar, organized chaos in his apartment.

He reaches for the lamp, and switches it off before turning one last time to look at his partner, wrapped in his Navajo blanket, sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

The soft, glowing light from the fish tank shimmers across her features, basking her in an otherworldly glow, making her look like a goddess, and the breath hitches in his throat.

His eyes adjust to the darkness, yet the only thing he can see is her, the rest of the room fading away, and if that isn't the perfect metaphor for how he feels about Dana Katherine Scully, he's not sure there ever will be.

All he's ever seen is her.

He wants more than anything to crawl up beside her pale, petite body and wrap his arms around her. He wants to feel the thrum of her steady heartbeat against his chest; wants to hear her even breathing soothe him to sleep like the sweetest lullaby. He physically aches to touch her-- to exist in her atmosphere where the tug and pull of electricity crackles between them so profoundly.

Over the years, she's become one of his mythical creatures, full of mystery and truths yet to discover, and the more glimpses he catches of her, the more he craves.

There's proof undeniable that she loves him, that he loves her but, for the first time in his life, he's unsatisfied with simple proof. He yearns for more than the little moments he savors at the end of a case or during their long car rides across the country. He wants to drown in her.

Always, there has been this line. Yet, despite it, despite themselves, love has found a way to transcend it.

What's stopping them from consummating that love? From letting that love physically manifest and unfold between them? What are they afraid of?

What is he afraid of?

He's known love and loss all to well in his life.

It's the reason for his solitary existence-- the only thing that ensures his comfort and protection. His survival.

It's who he is... who he's always been.

But then there's Scully.

To say that he cares for her deeply would be the understatement of the century.

He has come to depend on her as if she is the very life force coursing through his veins; the thing that guides the steady tempo of his heart, the impetus needed to draw breath into his lungs.

She means everything to him.

The thought of losing her if an intimate relationship between them were to fail is unbearable.

It's why he's always kept that comfortable distance-- for self-preservation.

When he fell for his partner, Diana, it had been a mistake. He permitted them to cross that line, their personal and professional lives blending together, but then he lost her-- he wasn't good enough for her to stay-- and he didn't want to make that same mistake twice.

Especially, with Scully.

However, when Scully was diagnosed with cancer, his whole world had come crashing down. He was going to lose her anyway, in spite of everything. She was going to die, and he never allowed himself to love her-- really love her-- the way he needed to, the way she deserved.

He never got to experience the taste of her lips, the feel of her bare skin against his, her breath on hot on his neck...

And something within him broke at that realization.

He didn't just love Scully. He was in love with her.

And though he's been in love with her for quite some time, there has always been an excuse for him not to follow through on that feeling.

After she recovered from cancer, they had been slightly out of sync with each other, for one reason or another, life almost playing a cruel joke on them, refusing them the opportunity to finally admit their feelings for one another, and move on.

He wonders, now, if that's about to change-- if the stars have finally aligned in their favor.

Even so, tonight's discussion has still left him questioning things. Would he ever be enough for her? Could he ever give her what she wanted out of life?

Earlier, she had asked him why he never stayed still. Was she gauging his response? Analyzing, in that brilliant little head of hers, whether or not he would ever be able to settle down-- for her?

Several years ago, he'd have been unsure. Yet, so much has happened since then.

Still, her words keep echoing in his head...

'I once considered spending my whole life with this man. What I would have missed.'

Was she telling him that she had no regrets? That she was content in giving up a conventional life of white picket fences and cocktail parties-- for him?

She had already sacrificed so much for him. How could he expect her to give him anything else?

He could always hope.

Lettting out an uneasy sigh, he runs a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the bedroom. He unceremoniously kicks off his boots and socks before pulling his shirt and sweater off in one smooth motion, throwing them in the general vicinity of his hamper. He unbuckles his belt, and leaves the buttons to his jeans undone as he pads over to the bathroom sink, and reaches for the toothpaste and toothbrush.

As he brushes his teeth he searches his dresser for a pair of clean pajama pants for himself, and a t-shirt and pajama pants for Scully. If she was staying the night, he at least wanted her to be comfortable.

After he freshens up, he approaches his partner's sleeping form on the sofa, and kneels down to touch her shoulder, gently nudging her awake.

"Hey, Scully," he whispers.

Her eyes flutter awake after a beat, and it takes her a few seconds to focus on him through the haze of her drowsiness. For a moment, she forgets where she is.

The first thought floating through her conscious mind is that her shirtless partner is kneeling in front of her, rubbing gentle circles on her shoulder, staring at her in that way that makes her insides quiver, and she has to be dreaming.

Her second thought is she must've fallen asleep on his sofa while they were talking.

'Shit.'

Mulder immediately notices the change in her expression as she comes to her realization because before she can even start to build up her defenses, and make an excuse to leave for the night, he cuts her off.

"It's late. Why don't you take the bed? I'll take the couch. I know you must be exhausted."

He attempts to sound casual, hiding the desperation in his voice as though it wouldn't absolutely kill him if she left right now.

"Mulder, I--"

"It's okay, really. I prefer the couch anyway. Old habits. C'mon--," he nods towards his bedroom. "I laid out some more comfortable clothes for you."

Her heart leaps at the sincerity in his voice and actions. He wasn't pleading. He wasn't begging. His words were definitive, absolute. He wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Sure, she had slept over at his place before, but it was always born out of a crisis or dire situation that required her to stay. Never had she stayed just because he wanted her to. Never had she worn his pajamas, and the intimacy of it all made her heart beat a little faster.

Rationally, she knows she shouldn't.

Rationally, she knows that it's late, that they're both tired, and that she's feeling particularly vulnerable since the events that have unfolded over the last few days.

However, though her rational mind has saved her life, and Mulder's, too many times to count-- even though it's gotten her to where she is today-- she doesn't want to think rationally right now.

They've been dancing around this invisible line for years and, frankly, she's exhausted. She's already lost so much, and seeing Daniel on his death bed, seeing him slip away into the darkness as the life was physically drained from his body, suddenly makes her realize that she doesn't want to spend another minute on this Earth without showing Mulder how she feels.

"Okay," she whispers tentatively.

Relief washes over him at the utterance of that one little word. She's surrendering to him, letting her guard down, letting him in. Everything has brought them to this one moment in time and, for once, they weren't running away. He isn't sure what all of this means. He didn't intend for things to even progress to this point tonight.

Whatever is happening, though, he likes it.

He stands and helps her up as she makes her way to the bedroom doorway. She stops to peak over her shoulder at him.

"Thank you for listening to me tonight. Sorry I, uh, fell asleep," she gives him an apologetic glance.

"It's okay," he chuckles. "Sometimes, I even put myself to sleep when I hear myself talk. G'night, Scully."

"Night," she says, as she slowly closes the door behind her.

Leaning up against his bedroom door, she closes her eyes as she lets out a shuddering breath. Even though only moments ago she was fast asleep on his sofa, oblivious to the world around her, her mind and body were now humming with nervous excitement. How many times has she dreamed of this? Wished and hoped and prayed that they would both come to their senses, and just fall together one night.

Was tonight that night?

As her mind restlessly floats from one thought to the next, she walks over to the corner of the bed, and picks up Mulder's t-shirt.

Lifting it to her face, she inhales, and closes her eyes as the scent of him fills her nostrils, warmth spreading over her and igniting something deep inside her core.

She takes off her blazer, lifts her sweater over her head, steps out of her jeans, then unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She reaches for his t-shirt and quickly puts it on, relishing the way the soft fabric feels against her bare chest, before grabbing his pants and laying them on his dresser-- they would be too big for her anyway, she muses.

She smiles to herself as she lays on his bed, tugging the comforter up to her chin, and turning to her side. She's surrounded by everything 'Mulder,' and it's intoxicating. It makes her physically ache to be near him.

Suddenly, she becomes acutely aware of how close they really are-- only a few feet and a wall separating them. Not unlike every time they've spent in a tawdry motel with adjoining rooms but, somehow, inherently different.

Everything about this night feels different.

Her mind wanders. She's too anxious to let sleep overcome her...

Normally, she wouldn't read too far into her partner's actions. Many times he pushes the boundaries of what it means to be platonic friends, work buddies. The way he places his hand on her lower back when guiding her through doors, they way he holds her tight when she cries, or places a lingering kiss to her forehead. It never progresses beyond that, however.

In seven years, he's never crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

Even that kiss on New Year's Eve, though it blurred the proverbial line between friends and lovers, could've easily been brushed off as a chaste kiss between co-workers in the name of tradition.

(Though, they both knew it was more than that).

Fox Mulder has always been a man who blindlessly and passionately chases after what he wants, yet for all his impulsive tendencies, he's kept his personal feelings in check when it's come to her. Maddeningly, so.

In the infancy of their partnership, she told herself that he just wasn't interested in her romantically. Or maybe he was just being a gentleman, trying to keep things professional, despite their flirtatious banter. Even if he had initiated something, though, she probably wouldn't have allowed it. There was just too much at stake for them to act on their feelings.

However, when she was diagnosed with cancer, there was a subtle change in Mulder's behavior towards her.

She noticed it in his desperate glances and touches-- how he stayed at her bedside for nights on end, often times forgetting to sleep or eat. He was entirely broken. The image of his rumpled, unkept appearance during that dark time still haunts her.

It was then that she realized the depth of his love for her.

Perhaps her sickness, facing the finality of death, was the catalyst needed for them both to yield to the truth.

However, the knowledge that they've become such an integral part of each other's lives, woven and intertwined to the point that they have essentially become one, has been more unnerving than she cares to admit. She's never been this close to anyone. She trusts this man with her life and soul. Though she craves that physical intimacy with him, she's afraid taking that final step would shatter this world they've so carefully come to build.

She's more afraid, however, of never getting the chance to show him how she feels.

As she lays here, willing her mind to settle and her body to succumb to sleep, she can't stand the thought of her partner a few feet away possibly wondering, as she is, about whether or not to take that next step. He asked her to stay-- demanded it, even. She wishes things could be simple between them, for once. She wishes she could know what was going on in his head.

She lets out an exaggerated huff, crawls out of bed, and tiptoes to the door, the sound of his wood floor boards creaking under her feet. Her hand stills on the metal doorknob, as she mentally summons enough strength to open it.

'I'm just going to the kitchen to get a drink,' she lies to herself.

As she quietly opens the door, she's shocked to see Mulder standing before her, his hand frozen on the doorknob that is no longer there, a surprised expression played across his face.

"Jesus, Mulder, you scared me," she gasps in surprise, eyes snapping shut.

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I was just making sure you were, uh... settled okay," he manages, miraculously, at the sight of her scantly-clothed form.

Somehow, the connection between his brain and mouth has been rewired straight to his groin, and it takes an insurmountable measure of self-control not to gawk at her.

'God, Mulder, rein it in,' he scolds himself.

He intended only to check on her, or at least that was his excuse, but the sight of her in his t-shirt suddenly stirs within him an unexpected sense of possessiveness.

Never, even in his wildest dreams, has he imagined that Scully could look so beautiful, and it leaves him breathless.

The way the neckline on his shirt is so big on her petite frame, it almost falls off her shoulder, accentuating her sculpted collarbone, and exposing her neck. The way it hugs her curves in all the right places, and falls just above her knees. He notices right away that she's not even wearing a bra, the outline of her nipples under the thin fabric giving her away, and it takes every ounce of control he has not to physically grunt at the realization.

Seconds pass, yet they feel like minutes.

Not a sound is heard between them except their strangled breathing-- both staring at each other, willing the other to make a move.

This was it. They were at the crossroads. The next step would determine everything.

Chapter Text

Mulder instinctively steps towards her, his body drawn to hers as if led by some mystical, magnetic force.

His gaze is hot and heavy.

Reaching out, he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, then trails it over her bottom lip, leaving searing heat in its wake. Her eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

"I want to kiss you, Dana Scully. So, bad that it hurts," his raspy voice breaks the silence between them.

Her heart leaps into her throat at his candid declaration, and she meets his gaze, opening her mouth to speak before he interrupts.

"But if I kiss you now, I won't be able to stop. I won't be able to go back."

Sensing his inner turmoil, she can tell he's physically holding back, the muscles in his jaw tightening, the tendons in his neck straining.

"Would you want to go back?" she asks, breathlessly.

Mulder just stares at her, the words failing to form on his lips, his mind swirling around her question.

"Mulder--" Scully takes in an unsteady breath, then releases it, mustering up the courage to say her next words.

"Mulder, for as long as I've known you, you've never been afraid to chase anything, no matter the professional or personal costs. And I've never been afraid to follow you. I've always trusted your instincts, just as you've trusted mine. I can't tell you that nothing is going to change between us because I don't know. But if these last few days have made me realize anything, it's this: I don't want to have any regrets."

Her eyes suddenly begin to water, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks, her voice breaking as she continues.

"I can't live anymore knowing that, with as dangerous as our work is, I might never get the chance to show you how much you mean to me."

"Oh, Scully," he breathes as he reaches down to capture one of her tears in his lips, attempting to swallow her pain. His lips linger on her cheek as she chokes back a quiet sob.

"I've been a coward," he mumbles against her cheek as he places wet kisses over her face. "You deserve so much better than what I can give you, what I can offer you."

She reaches up to capture his face in her hands, willing him to look her in the eyes.

Light blue meeting dark hazel.

"All I've ever wanted was you."

His resolve shatters at the utterance of her words.

Before she can say anything else, his hands are cupping her cheeks, his lips are on hers, and he's kissing her like his life depends on it.

This isn't the polite, gentle kiss that they rang in the millennium to. This was the kiss that never happened in his hallway over a year ago.

This is pure, sensual, unadulterated, and needy. She's amazed at how effortlessly their lips dance across one other, like they've been doing this for years, and it feels so right. His plump, soft lips feel divine against hers, and the sounds he's making are going straight to her center.

Her head is spinning with desire, her lungs burning with need for air, and she has to pull back a second to catch her breath. He does the same, leaning his forehead against hers. They stay like this for a few moments before Scully finally breaks the silence.

"Still wanna go back?" She teases.

"Hell, no," he says, his deep, hoarse voice vibrating throughout her body.

His lips return to hers, but this time it's slower, unhurried. They take their time exploring their newfound territory. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and slips a tongue past her lips, tasting every inch of her mouth. She draws his full bottom lip into her mouth, gently sucking on it.

Just kissing Mulder like this is enough to drive her mad. Already, her body is responding in ways she couldn't have predicted, and he's barely even touched her.

Her hands, which have been unusually still since their make out session began, finally come to rest on his hips, and she brushes her fingers against his skin there, toying with the waistband of his boxers.

He jolts in surprise at the skin-to-skin contact, and waves of pleasure shoot straight to his groin at the sensations she's conjuring. He breaks their kiss to suck in a deep breath, turning his attentions to the exposed skin on her neck.

"God, Scully, do you know what you do to me?" he whsipers close to her ear, breath hot on her neck, as his tongue sneaks out to taste her skin. His lips find her ear lobe, and he begins to suck on the tender flesh.

"Mmm, I have an idea," she says as her eyes roll back and she tilts her head to give him more access. "However, I'm going to need a little more proof."

'Ever the skeptic,' he muses.

"Why does that not surprise me?" he chuckles against her skin before reaching for her hand on his hip, and sliding it down to the very prominent bulge in his jeans.

Surprised, she sucks in deep breath at what she feels there. God, he's already rock hard, and the thought that she did that to him, that she affects him that much, makes her clit throb with desire.

"Satisfied?" he groans.

"Not yet, but I have a feeling I'm about to be," she gasps, and he smiles to himself against her lips as he begins to kiss her fervishly again.

Some small part of him knew their witty banter and verbal sparring wouldn't stop in the bedroom, and he's silently thankful for that. It's one of the things he enjoys most about their partnership, and hearing her tease him in that sexy voice of hers fulfills every fantasy he's ever had about them.

He's stirred out of his thoughts when he feels her small hand dexterously stroke him through his jeans from base to tip, and he feels suddenly lightheaded. He breaks their kiss, and stills her hand on him.

Meeting her eyes for the first time since this began, he almost comes from the sight of her.

Her lips are red and swollen, and her breaths are coming in short pants. Her normally pale skin is flushed pink with desire. Her eyes are as dark as he's ever seen them.

She bites her bottom lip as her eyes slowly trail downwards across his chest to where their hands meet on his cock.

Something carnal snaps inside of him.

Suddenly, he reaches behind her thighs to lift her up to him as she instinctively wraps her toned legs around his waist. They kiss frantically as he carries her to his bed, and gently lays her down on top of the mattress.

The realization hits him, then, like a ton of bricks. Scully, his Scully, is laying on his bed in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, and he's about to touch her, about to hear her moan his name, about to make her come, and nothing in his wildest dreams could prepare him for this.

Seven years, he's wondered. Seven years, he's touched himself to thoughts about his partner, and what she would taste like, feel like, sound like...

His body is almost trembling from the anticipation of it all.

Kneeling beside her on the bed, he tentatively runs his hands upwards along the smooth expanse of her thighs until he reaches the hem of her t-shirt. He continues his journey up her stomach and ribs under the shirt as she instinctively raises her arms above her head, a silent answer to the question he was asking.

She watches his darkened expression change as he slowly peels away the soft fabric, revealing herself to him. A blush creeps across her chest as she physically feels his eyes boring into her. She restlessly squirms under his gaze, unable to read his expression, the silence deafening.

"Mulder, say something," she breathes.

His eyes meet hers, and the once dark, lust-filled gaze he was exhibiting only moments earlier, softens. He's looking at her so tenderly, like she's about to break, shatter into a million pieces under his touch.

He moves slowly, and she anticipates the feel of his rough hands on her breasts-- God, she needs him to touch her-- but instead she feels his fingers ghost over the scar of her gunshot wound, reverently tracing the outline, and sending shivers up her spine.

"I love you," he whispers, almost imperceptibly.

His unexpected words tug at her heart, and she suddenly forgets how to breathe.

This isn't a profound revelation to her. She knows it just as much as she knows her own name; is as sure of it as she is that sun will rise tomorrow. He's even uttered those words to her before-- though she told herself at the time it was only because he was under the effects of some pretty powerful pain medicine.

But the way he says it tonight, the sentimental look in his eyes, she can't help but suddenly feel overwhelmed by it all.

Mulder's words hang in the air between them, and she can see panic begin to wash over his features at her apparent lack of reaction to them.

She reaches down to her belly, and laces her fingers with his, bringing them up to her mouth to kiss the inside of his wrist. Locking her eyes with his, she wills her breathing to become steady as she returns his words.

"I love you, too," she grins against his wrist.

She slowly moves their hands down her heaving chest until they're right where she wants them. Mulder quickly gets the hint, and his large palm covers her breast perfectly as he begins to massage it, placing wet kisses to her chest and collarbone. She lets a soft moan escape her lips as he tweaks one nipple between his fingers, and sucks at the tender flesh of her other breast.

His hands gingerly explore the newly exposed territory of her body-- light touches over her stomach and ribs, teasingly dropping to the edge of her panties before making their way back up again. He revels in the way her muscles twitch under his ministrations.

God, he's slowly setting her on fire. The pressure he's building, the rhythmic dance of his hands and lips across her chest, is sending jolts of pleasure to the throbbing spot between her legs. She can tell already that her panties are soaked, and she begins to grind her hips into the mattress, attempting to relieve some of the pressure.

He's becoming drunk off the sounds she's making, and he quickly decides that his favorite thing in the world is to discover what moans and breathless words he can coax out of that sweet mouth of hers while his hands explore her body. The thought that he's doing this to her, that he's driving his normally level-headed partner wild with need, is making him dizzy.

He needs more of her and now.

Extracting himself from her writhing body, she lets out a huff of protest, before he slowly crawls down her stomach, and hooks his fingers through her black, satin panties. His breath is only inches away from her soaking center, the heady smell of her sweet musk fills his lungs, and he can't help but close his eyes and groan at the sensations overwhelming him.

Instinctively, he places a soft kiss to her center through her panties before slowly pulling the offending fabric down her pale legs, and tossing them into the dark abyss.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, incredulously.

His dark eyes are drinking her in, and the appreciative glances he's giving her make her insides flip.

The sight of Mulder between her legs is almost too much to take in. Suddenly, she becomes very self-conscious as she ponders his intentions. Of course, she's often fantasized about what that brilliant tongue of his could do to her, how it would feel between her legs.

Scully's acutely aware of his oral fixation-- his constant need to lick his lips, to stick a pen between his teeth when he's deep in concentration. Hell, the man can go through an entire bag of sunflower seeds in one plane ride (which often makes for a few, very uncomfortable hours on her part). It's distracting, to say the least.

She wants to be distracted.

However, she's always been a little uncomfortable when a new lover decides to go down on her, especially the first time. She's always thought that it was a chore for the other person, something they tolerated, and she always felt pressure to perform, to force an orgasm.

Before she has a chance to protest, however, he gently pushes her legs apart, and runs a tongue along the inside of her thigh, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake, cooling her overheated, oversensitive skin.

She gasps at the sensation.

"Mulder, ahhhh, you... umph, you don't have to do that," she finally chokes out.

"Mmmm," the vibrations of his deep voice send goosebumps down her skin. "I know I don't have to but, God, do I want to."

He continues kissing and licking round her pussy, purposefully avoiding the one place she wants him, needs him, and she's not sure how much more she can take.

Finally, he reaches around to run his middle finger across her opening, his eyes snap shut at the feel of her slick skin.

"Fuck, Scully," he breathes out. "You're so wet."

She blushes, and bites her lip, almost embarrassed that she's as soaking wet as she is, but he doesn't seem to mind.

He brings his finger to his mouth, and she watches as his tongue swirls around his digit, audibly moaning at the taste of her on his mouth. She decides that it's the most sensual thing she's ever witnessed, and almost comes right then and there.

Her head falls back with a thump on the mattress behind her. "God, please," she silently curses under her breath. "I... ah, I need you to touch me."

"So demanding," he smirks, his voice impossibly low.

And before she says anything else his mouth is on her pussy, sucking and licking the swollen flesh between her legs.

He runs the flat part of his tongue up her opening before swirling the tip of his tongue of over her sensitive bundle of nerves. She bucks her hips wildly off the bed, his name like a mantra on her lips, and he splays his hand across her belly to hold her in place.

Scully reaches down to bury her fingers in his hair, and gently coaxes him on, as he continues his assault on her aching pussy.

She already feels the pressure building quickly, feels that familiar spring coil deep inside her belly, and she knows she's close.

Her breaths become more shallow, and the movement of her hips become more frantic, as he continues to lick and suck her. He knows she's on the brink, but he doesn't want it to end. He wants to draw this out and spend the rest of his life making her feel this way. He's drunk off the taste of her, off the sounds she's making, off the feel of her under his tongue.

Withdrawing his mouth, he pauses to blow a breath on her sensitive bud, before he looks up at her face. She lets out a shaky breath, and grabs a fist full of sheets, before she looks down at him, eyes pleading.

"Please, Mulder," she manages to whisper between breaths. "I'm... so close..."

And he watches her expression through lidded eyes as he eases a long finger past her folds, into her dripping wet center. 

"Oh, my God-- fuck--," she breathes. 

He can count on one hand the amount of times he's heard that particular word fall from her lips-- in seven years-- but the thought that he's the reason for it right now makes the blood rush to his groin. It's incredibly sexy.

Her eyes fall back into her head as it lands with a thud on the mattress, and a sensual groan escapes her lips. He adds another finger, and watches, mesmerized, as she begins to fall apart around him. She's grasping at his shoulders, tugging his hair, and panting through slightly parted lips.

She's so tight around his fingers, and the realization makes his cock strain against his belly-- he's impossibly hard. He bucks into the mattress to relieve some of the tension as he watches his fingers slide in and out of Scully's beautiful pussy, glistening in her juices.

"Muld... Mul... please..." she pants, unable to form his full name on her lips.

Immediately, he brings his mouth to her pussy, and wraps his lips around her clit, quickly teasing it with the tip of his tongue... back and forth, back and forth.

He feels her orgasm building, her body begining to stiffen, her breathing coming in short pants, and he crooks his fingers against her G-spot, before lifting his head to watch her come apart around his hand.

Her eyes slam shut as she bites her bottom lip, hard, and a flush creeps across her chest and face as her body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. He can feel her muscles tighten and spasm around his fingers, a rush of warm fluid coating his hand.

God, he could die like this, watching Dana Scully come, and he knows it's the most  pure thing he's ever witnessed in his entire life.

He slowly withdraws his hand, and wipes it on his discarded t-shirt, before he crawls up her lazy form, and kisses her back down to reality.

Her hazy eyes open and she slowly begins to focus on him, her breathing slowing to a normal rate.

She slings an arm over her eyes, and bashfully smirks, before turning her head away.

Every muscle in her body feels impossibly heavy.

"I could watch you do that a million times, and never tire of it," his hoarse voice breaks the silence between them.

She looks over at him through hooded eyes, the sated afterglow of sex evident in her features. She smiles lazily, and his heart stops beating for a minute.

She's absolutely radiant.

"Play your cards right, and I just might let you."

Pulling him in for another kiss, she suddenly realizes the unfair advantage she has over him regarding articles of clothing, and decides to level the playing field.

She needs to see him, needs to feel him.

As she tugs at his jeans, he gets the hint, and they briefly break apart for him to lift his hips off the bed, and slide his pants and boxers off in one motion. His erect member slaps against his stomach, and he groans. He can't remember the last time he was this hard.

He watches Scully as she focuses her gaze on his cock. The silence in the room is almost deafening.

He wants to make a remark; something witty to bring his partner back to Earth, but nothing feels appropriate. Now it's his turn to blush. Her gaze is so intense-- almost like he's a specimen to be studied...

She is a scientist, after all.

The man is beautiful, Scully thinks to herself. Of course, she's seen enough to know as much, but the full force of that reality hits her now, almost knocking the breath out of her lungs.

Here they both lay, stripped of not only their clothes, but their defenses. It's almost too much for her bear.

"God, Mulder," she whispers, her lust-filled eyes moving up to his. "Are we really doing this?"

Mulder gives her a small, lopsided grin as he shakes his head yes, his eyes searching hers for any hint of uncertainty.

However, he realizes that her question was more of a "I can't believe this is finally happening" than one of fear or doubt, and he feels relieved.

He isn't sure he'd be able to walk away at this point. Not after seeing her come apart in his hands. Not after hearing her moan his name.

Scully eventually reaches between them, torturously and slowly giving her full attention to the part of Mulder she had yet to really explore, and his eyes roll into the back of his head at the contact. The breath catches in his throat as she strokes him, then swirls the small amount of precum leaking from his tip over his head. A delicious tingle runs up his spine.

"God, Sc... Scully," he breathes, as he bucks into her hand.

He's so big in her tiny hands, and she wants to memorize every ridge, every contour. She relishes the way he's so hard for her, yet his skin is so velvety soft-- how he twitches in her palm when she hits a particularly sensitive spot.

She watches, transfixed, as she continues to pleasure him, small grunts and groans escape his parted lips, his eyes tightly closed, his face flushed. She knows he's already close, and doesn't want the night to end so soon, so she stops her ministrations, and pushes down on his shoulders so he's laying flat on the mattress.

He looks up at her as she throws her legs over his narrow hips, and straddles him.

They both groan in unison at the new contact as she slowly rocks her hips over his erection, spreading her slickness over his skin with each pass. 

'God she's such a tease,' he thinks.

As if sensing his thoughts, she gives him an impossibly sexy grin as she bends down to kiss him deeply, her tongue matching the rhythmic dance of her hips.

He bucks into her, and she breaks the kiss to let out a strangled moan. He doesn't know how much more of this torture he can take.

She realizes his urgency, and reaches between them to take his throbbing cock in her hand.

It's now or never.

She straightens up before raising her hips, pausing to search for Mulder's eyes, before slowly sinking down onto his swollen length.

Chapter Text

They both groan in unison at the feeling of finally being connected.

Scully's eyes snap shut. Every nerve ending in her body is set ablaze by the feel of him inside her. She has to take a moment to adjust to his large girth, and she can feel the tip of him rest against her cervix.

She struggles to catch her breath. It's been so long since she's been with a man, and she's definitely not been with a man who matches Mulder in size.

"Ohmygod... you're so big..." she whispers as she slowly opens her eyes to look at him.

His heavily lidded eyes meet hers as he attempts to get a handle on his breathing. She decides it's the sexiest thing she's seen, the sight of him struggling not to lose control, and she takes a mental picture for later.

Setting a slow pace at first, she gets used to the feel of him inside her. She winces, and he asks if she's okay, before she gives him a reassuring nod, gasping his name.

She's completely lost in him, in the sensations he's creating in her body-- her higher brain function completely overridden by her carnal desires. All she can manage are little unintelligible moans and gasps at the feeling of him inside her.

Mulder is in utter rapture at how beautiful Scully looks, completely surrendering to this moment they've created. He reaches out to brush away an errant strand of hair stuck to her damp cheek, and she kisses his palm as she slowly rides him. His heart swells with adoring love for her.

He could stay like this forever.

The need between them begins to build, however, and she starts to pick up the pace. Their strangled breaths and moans, along with the wet sounds of love-making, fill the air around them.

As her body begins to tire, and a sheen of sweat coats her flushed skin, she rests her head on his chest. He kisses her hair as he takes control, thrusting into her over and over again, hitting her G-spot perfectly. She's not sure how much longer she can last, that familiar tug pulling deep within her belly.

He senses the change in her body, and wants nothing more than to make her come again while he's inside her, so he flips them over until she's lying beneath him. He hooks her leg over his shoulder, and watches, transfixed, as he slides in and out of her with ease.

He can't believe they're doing this. The sight of where they're joined-- her creamy, pale skin such a juxtaposition to his tan skin-- is almost his undoing. He can't tear his gaze away.

Scully watches him through lidded eyes as he stares at their union, noticing the awe and reverence in his gaze, and is overcome with emotion. 

"Jeeeezus, Scullllly," he moans.

He drops his head, closes his eyes, and struggles to catch his breath as he slows his movements. He's not sure how much longer he can last.

She reaches out to him and grabs his hand, interlacing their fingers, and he raises his head to meet her eyes.

"I'm so close," she whispers as she squeezes his hand. "Come with me."

Hearing those words, seeing the affection in her eyes, tugs at his heart. They were doing this just as they'd done everything... together.

Mulder raises their joined hands to his lips for a quick kiss before he resumes his pace. He knows she's right on the brink, and he brings his thumb between them to circle her swollen flesh.

Almost instantly he feels her body tighten then quiver around him as she grasps the sheets at her side, panting his name. He feels that familiar tingling at the base of his spine, his thrusts becoming more frantic.

"Let go, Mulder. Come for me," she moans.

His breath catches in his throat at her words as his climax wracks his body, and he spills into her, letting out deep groan, her spasms milking him for everything he's worth.

Mulder collapses on top of her, his solid body swallowing her whole.

She should feel claustrophobic, but relishes the sensation of being consumed by him. The smell of his sweat-soaked skin fills her nostrils. She breathes in the thick scent of sex and Mulder, and she feels delirious.

Languidly, she presses a kiss to the salty skin on his temple, and feels the frantic beat of his heart against her lips. He stirs at the contact, and instinctively slides off her small frame.

"M'sorry, Scully," he mumbles against her skin. "I didn't mean to crush you."

"S'okay. I was rather enjoying it," she says, lazily, still trying to catch her breath.

She glances down at him with a satisfied grin, and he smiles back, wrapping his arms and legs around her, tugging her to him possessively, and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Remind me, again, why we waited so long to do that," his rough, low voice tickling the skin on her neck.

"Mmm, because we're idiots, Mulder," she says playfully.

"If I'd have known it was going to be that good, I'd have jumped you a long time ago. You'd have never even had a chance, Scully," he smiles against her skin.

"Then I'd say you have a lot of lost time to make up."

"Oh, I can think of worse ways to repay that time. Much worse."

As she listens to the sound of his steady breathing, she drifts to sleep in his arms.

Nothing more is said between them.

Nothing needed to be.

They've always been able to convey their emotions through actions when words could never be enough. It was as if they had a certain, unspoken communication-- their own language that embodied itself in the form of glances or touches. It's part of what makes their bond so strong.

Tonight only proved to enhance that bond.

Scully is stirred awake by the rustling wind outside the windows, the trees violently shaking as a storm threatens to disturb the peaceful calm of night.

Her sleepy eyes roam around Mulder's room, searching for the alarm clock.

5:02 am.

The shadows from the leaves whimsically play across her partners features, and she reaches out to stroke his cheek, the rough stubble tickling the senstive skin on her palm. He's sleeping so soundly, little snores escaping his parted lips.

She's overflowing with such love for this man in her arms. She can't remember the last time she was ever this happy. Maybe not ever.

Reality sets in, however, and she realizes that she has to get back to her apartment to shower and change if she's going to make it to the office by 7. 

Reluctantly, she meticulously peels herself away from Mulder's sleeping frame, careful not to disturb him, and pads her way to the bathroom, only stopping to grab her discarded clothes on the way.

As she stares at herself in the bathroom mirror, she can't help but feel like a changed woman. Something's different... but in a good way. She crossed that line with her partner, and the world didn't end. Quite the contrary, actually. Her world has never felt more alive, never felt more complete.

She fixes a few stray hairs, and quietly walks over to the edge of his bed, grabbing her blazer and putting it on as she catches one last glimpse of Mulder.

God, he's gorgeous.

It almost takes her breath away to think that she's allowed to touch him now, to kiss him. No longer is their love unspoken or forbidden. He's hers, just as he's always been, but last night made it complete in ways she can't even comprehend yet. It still hasn't fully sunken in.

Smiling to herself, she purposefully makes her way out of his room before she can change her mind-- fighting the urge to crawl back into bed with him, into his warmth.

There will be time for that later...

Time again when she's not Special Agent Dana Scully, MD, but just a simple woman in love, and she can't wait.