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More often than not, after a night of passion—sweat, secretions, and horse voices—the following day was dedicated to lounging around the apartment to rest sore muscles.
Today was no different. Sunday morning and Scully decided to skip out (again) on morning Mass and opted to cloth her naked body with a cutoff tank top, the softest, comfiest sweatpants and ankle socks. Mulder, hair spiky from Scully’s relentless grip, walks into the living room in a simple pair of clean boxers—that now live in the bottom drawer of her bureau—and a muscle tank.
After placing a warm cup of coffee into her waiting hand, Mulder picks up her socked feet and plops them into his lap as he snaps open the Sunday Times to read the box scores from the Orioles game the night before. The apartment is calmly quiet; the only noise wafts in from the open windows carrying the tune of happy birds going about their day.
Scully, a book in hand, sighs contentedly. Mulder squeezes her foot, agreeing with her.
“Feel like venturing out for sustenance any time soon?”
Scully hums back non-committedly.
Finished with his paper for the time being, he drops it to the floor beside him and slowly crawls up Scully’s body, his head nuzzling her chest under the hold she has on her book to make her move, his arms snake around her body as he cuddles close.
Book now forgotten, she runs her hand through his hair to tame is crazy locks. Her other hand drifts across the back of his shoulders, soothingly. Some passes are done under his shirt to graze across his soft skin.
“I don’t wanna ever move from this spot.” He mumbles into her sternum.
Scully snorts. “What happens when I need to get up to use the bathroom?”
“Technicality.” His hands begin to roam over her waist. Over her shirt, then under.
Just as his talented fingers tease the underside of her boob, he lifts up to place as series of warm kisses on her waiting lips. She returns them wholeheartedly.
His head returns to lay on the top of her chest but his hand remains buried under her tank top, his hand now fully cupping and caressing her left breast. Every now and then he’ll tilt his head back to leave kisses along the column of her neck. She’ll stretch back to allow him more room. The stubble that scrapes against her skin makes her cunt twitch. She hooks her outside leg over his hips to keep him close.
Soon their hands stop roaming and their breath evens out until they slip into an easy slumber.
When they wake, they’ll discuss venturing out to a restaurant for a late lunch, early dinner. But they both know they’ll just move into the bedroom, disrobe and pick up where they left off the night before.