From: "Eiluned" Date: Mon, 10 Sep 2001 13:46:20 +0200 Subject: Story Revision Source: revision Soma by Eiluned (redheadrippercat@yahoo.com) ARCHIVE: Ask before archiving or linking. DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully are not mine. I'm just borrowing them for a little roll in the hay. SPOILERS: absolutely none RATING: NC-17 SUMMARY: A kiss and a midnight visit.. I flick the lamp on in my motel room, dropping my coat onto the room's only chair. Harrowing, I think. That's what today was. I hate cases like these. Sometimes they are so difficult to forget. Stripping as I go, I turn on the shower in the tiny bathroom and step under the heated spray. The water pours over my sore body, drenching my hair. Showers are one of my favorite things, next to baths and the occasional fantasy about Mulder. Ah, Mulder. My thoughts can't help but to drift back to a moment in the police station. I had almost been killed. I really hate that, you know? Not just the fact that some psychotic bastard took it upon himself to send me to meet my maker. I hate it because Mulder always goes wiggy on me afterwards. I am actually fine. I'm not just using that phrase to keep Mulder out of my head. From the second the jerk pulled his gun on me, I knew that I was going to be fine. It's one of those crazy things that I can't explain and refuse to tell Mulder about. But, back to the police station. The guy was locked up and charged with seven counts of first degree murder and one count of attempted murder on a federal agent. Mulder heaved this great sigh that I'm sure I wasn't supposed to hear and pulled me close to him. Sure, I've been held by Mulder before, but this time was different. My thoughts then flew back to when he held me in that hospital 'cursed place' in Allentown. It felt cosmically the same. He opened his arms and pulled me to him, almost crushing me to his body, resting his chin on top of my head. He kissed my hair, I could feel him inhale lightly, taking in the scent of my shampoo. Then, he took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead softly, his smooth lips pressing firmly, then brushing lightly. That was where the similarity to Allentown ended. This time, he tilted my face up more and caught my eyes for just a split second. And did the most amazing thing. He kissed me. A tender, chaste kiss on the lips. Which brings me to his lips. They are so soft and velvety. He took infinite care in kissing me, not pressing too hard, just touching his lips to mine oh, so gently. I thought for an irrational moment that maybe if I opened my mouth to him... But I didn't. He broke the kiss and I pulled away, too flushed to look him in the face. I just walked out to the car and sat down, waiting for him to take us back to our motel. When he finally came outside, his look told me volumes. My heart got that funny achy feeling when I realized that he thought he'd fucked up. It wasn't that at all, I wanted to shout. I liked it! It made my knees wobble and send a shot of heat to a place that has been neglected for so long! God, Mulder, I want you to kiss me again! Over and over while you're taking my clothes off, while you're taking your own clothes off, while you're thrusting into me! But I didn't say anything. I just rode in silence, waited patiently while he parked the car and got out. I murmured a 'good night, Mulder' and disappeared into my room. I lean my face into the spray and let it wash away the flush that has appeared at the memory. I honestly can't say why I didn't just kiss him back. I wanted to, more than I've ever wanted anything. It was such a beautiful moment in a time of such ugliness. I restlessly wash my hair and slather conditioner on. I wash my face and my body, trying to ignore the twinges of desire that go through me. I wish mine were Mulder's hands. His hands are so nice, so big and smooth. So powerful compared to mine. When we first started working together, he made me feel so small, in the mental sense. It wasn't from any conscious thing he did, but standing beside him made me feel inadequate, something that scared the shit out of me. But then I saved his ass a few times and I realized that I was only small physically compared to him. Mentally, I was his equal. I rinse the conditioner out of my hair and stand under the pounding water for a minute more, letting it soothe my tense muscles. I get out, feeling strangely giddy, like I'm about to burst into hysterical giggles. I rush through my nightly routine for some reason, slathering huge globs of lotion onto my body and toweling my hair vigorously. I comb the tangles out and wrap the towel around my head to soak up the excess water. I reach into my suitcase, which I dragged in here with me, and start to pull out my pajamas. Doing so, my hand brushes the softness of real silk. Mulder's boxers. I'll bet he doesn't even know that I swiped them. I was at his apartment one night, going over a case. I excused myself to his bathroom, then found myself going through his adjoining closet. I found the black boxers with 'see-no-evil, hear-no- evil, speak-no-evil' aliens on them and couldn't resist. They smelled like him, an intimate scent that I've only gotten hints of in the past. I stuffed the shorts under my sweatshirt and when he wasn't looking, into my attache case. I decide to forgo my satin pajamas and slip the boxers on, enjoying the cool slide of silk on my bare skin. I reach for a t-shirt, but I stop. I'd rather feel the cool of the sheets against my bare skin. Maybe it will drown these heated thoughts in my mind. This is a dangerous game I'm playing, I think as I walk out into my room. The connecting doors between our rooms are slightly ajar. I can catch a glimmer of blue light from his TV on the wall. Sighing, I slip into my bed, switching the lamp off, leaving me in the dark. I stretch out on my stomach, pressing my breasts into the soft, cool sheets. I only pull the top sheet up to my waist, leaving my back bare to the wonderful climate in the room. My hazy, sleepy thoughts once again drift back to that kiss. I drift off to sleep with my lips burning for his. --------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- My brain sends me an alarm that someone is in the room with me. I slit open my eyes and see that the adjoining door is wide open. I can't see Mulder, but I know he's just out of my field of vision, watching me. I can hear his breathing, harsher that usual. I absently wonder if he's aroused by the sight of my bare back, my tattoo peeking out of the sheets, teasing him. I think this is the first time he's ever seen it. I close my eyes quickly, not wanting him to know that I'm awake. I hear his footsteps bring him closer to the bed. I'm getting that hysterical feeling again, like I need to scream at the top of my lungs to relieve some of the tension. I feel the edge of the mattress shift down under his weight. He's getting into bed with me. Oh, my God, I never dreamed this would happen. Then I feel it. Something soft and wet and warm sliding in a circle on my lower back. I think I might faint when I realize that he's tasting my tattoo, running his tongue over the eternal circle. I suck in a breath and he knows that I'm awake. I feel his hands running sensually over my bare skin, kneading the tight muscles, teasing the spots that make me squirm. The mattress shifts again and I feel his breath on my shoulder. The sudden wet contact of his tongue on my skin makes me gasp. I feel him smile against me as he runs his lips over my back. I can't help the chorus of gasps and moans that rise from my throat when he reaches the place between my shoulderblades. He thoroughly explores every inch of skin with his mouth, nuzzling his nose into me. He ventures lower and presses and openmouthed kiss on the small of my back, the same place that he touches when he guides me into a room. The effect is electric. I gasp loudly, and let loose a low moan. I feel him moan against me in reply and he slides the sheet down from my waist. He laughs suddenly, running his hands over the silk boxers. "I was wondering where these were," he says, his voice so low and rough that I can't help getting wet. I've never heard him sound like this before. I feel him leaning over me, balanced on his arms that rest on either side of me. "Tell me to stop, Scully," he whispers, "Tell me now and I will. Otherwise, I'll never be able to." I shiver and keep my mouth shut. He lets out a shaky breath and moves to sit beside me. I feel his fingers hook in the waistband of the shorts and slowly slide them down. He pulls them over my feet and tosses them somewhere off the bed. Now, I'm naked in front of him. I hear him sigh heavily. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks again. This time I manage a muffled 'no.' He's smiling, I just know it. I jerk when his hand travels down my back and over the curve of my ass to dip between my legs. My nipples tighten against the sheet as his fingers lightly rub over my labia. I let out a moan and his fingers leave me. I whimper in protest, but his hand returns to me, his fingers wet from his mouth. I gasp in response as he spreads me open and slides one long finger inside. He slides it in and out slowly, letting my moisture seep onto his hand. His finger slips out of me, only to return, joined by another, stretching me. I groan, pressing my face into my pillow. He isn't pumping, but rather fluttering his fingers inside me. I jerk when his fingers find my g-spot and press it firmly. I let out a strangled cry and he moans in reply, pumping his hand, his fingers brushing my spot with every stroke. I have never come from this, but to my surprise, my belly coils tight in anticipation of the release. He's thrusting his fingers so hard that his fist is slapping me, putting the most exquisite pressure on me. A few more thrusts and I am there. He presses hard inside me and I cry out, my entire body shaking as if I was being electrocuted. I have never felt this, this pleasure so intense that my extremities go numb. As I'm coming back down, I can hear Mulder's breath hard and labored. He takes his fingers from me and crawls between my spread legs. He grabs the pillow from beside my head and lifts my hips, shoving it under me, propping me up. My arms curl up and twist my pillow under my chest, and I press my forehead into the sheet. "Scu... Scully, do you want this? Do you want me?" he groans, his voice so sensually tortured that any doubts that may have been lurking in my unconscious mind flee. "Oh, God, Mulder, I want you," I reply, my voice equally as tortured, as inhuman, "Please, fuck me now. Please..." He spreads my legs further and I feel the head of his cock nudging at my opening. He runs the tip over my clit and I let out a startled gasp. Then, he's pressing into me, his cock stretching me tight. God, he's so big. He keeps moving into me, no stopping until I feel my labia pressed hard against his pelvic bone and his cock bumping my cervix. I moan shakily and he wraps his hands around my hips. He slides back, leaving me almost empty, then slams his cock back home. I groan and he begins a fast hard rhythm, his cock rubbing my g-spot on every in stroke, his fingers teasing my clit on the out. He pounds into me relentlessly. The fucking walls could fall in right now and neither of us would notice. We are so wrapped up in the feeling of each other, of our joining. I know that I'm close. No man has ever brought me this high, and I doubt any man besides Mulder ever could. His thrusts have become longer, deeper and he's humming low in his chest, a low, throaty, carnal sound that brings me closer and closer. "Ahh, Scullyimgonnacome..." he says on one breath, his body shaking. "Yes," I hear myself say. He presses hard on my clit and I scream, contracting hard around him. He swells and throbs inside of me, a flood of wet heat mingling with my own fluids. I vaguely hear him crying out my name through the dimness of the most intense orgasm I've ever had. Everything banks abruptly and he collapses on me. Our breathing is synchronous and labored, rising and falling in unison. He slowly pulls out of me and I roll under him, letting him fall back into my arms. He raises his head to look at me and I realize that this is the first time I've seen his face through all of this. He's flushed and his eyes are wet. "Oh, Scully," he whispers, his voice weak, "I..." "Shh," I reply, "You don't have to say it now. Wait until the morning." He smiles and kisses me, the same soft kiss from before, his tongue lightly teasing mine. "Scully?" "Hmm?" "I want to see your face when you come. I want to see how beautiful you are when you're coming." I feel a jolt go through me. "Can we do it later?" He smiles softly again and rolls, taking me with him, so that I'm resting on his chest, our legs entwined. We lay like this for a long time before either of us fall asleep, and I know that I'm home. This is where we are supposed to be. End