From: Spock Date: 3 Nov 2003 10:23:12 -0800 Subject: New: Tongue? Source: atxc Author: Spock Title: Tongue? Category: MSR, SPOV Rating: almost NC-17, but generally PG-13 Spoilers: Millennium-post ep Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully's tongues belong to CC. EEP. I am only borrowing them :) Summary: New Year's, wine, a comfy couch and two adults...with tongues...among other things Author's note: Taking a break from the angst. Need to think happier thoughts. Feedback always appreciated at: spockdaggoo@yahoo.co.uk Tongue? By Spock The Couch Mulder's apartment 3 a.m., January 1st, 2000 She heard him shift and felt his knee bump into hers. She fixed her eyes on the party on the TV-screen. She calculated that if she moved her knee away, it would seem as if she was affected by his closeness. And, oh boy, was she ever, affected that is. But she'd rather die than tell him that. Such was her resolve. And so she began telling herself to comply with her resolve. She was really, wholly unaffected by his proximity. Utterly. Stoutly, she remained motionless. Yet all she could think about was Mulder's knee, what on earth had landed her here, on her partner's couch, in the middle of the wee hours of the morning of the first day of the year of 2000 and how come his knee was touching hers, and how the hell she would keep the hotness off her cheeks, how the hell she'd be able to restrain herself? She tried her best not to shiver and said coolly "Mulder, thanks for the wine." She yawned for good measure as she set her wine glass onto the sofa table, resolute in pretending the warmth of his knee didn't unnerve her, pretending the jubilations on TV were the most interesting program she had ever seen, yet that she was now tired and wanted to crawl into her own bed, alone. She knew how to do it. She had perfected it for quite some time. Seven years almost. Seven bloody years of perfecting it. Yet, at midnight, she had allowed that goddamned kiss interfere with her defenses where Mulder was concerned. There was a gaping hole in her armor, a hole that would just about fit a lanky fellow bearing the name of Fox Mulder, knees included, sitting right there, mere inches away, on a couch that was wide enough for hot loving- - "I'm calling a cab." She had to get away to remain moderately sane. The champagne and the two wine bottles on the sofa table weren't there for decoration, they had emptied them, while watching TV for three hours. She felt a little tipsy too, come to think of it. She had had to remain unaffected all through his leaning into her personal space while they had talked and he had wanted to make some point, and then she had been forced to watch happy people sucking face and lifting glasses to greet the New Year, alcohol had soothed her nerves somewhat, yet her damned defenses seemed to be on the crumble. She couldn't remember the conversation they'd been having, even if her life depended on it. She could only describe his cologne, the feel of his breath on her cheek as he poured her more wine, his exuberance as he spoke about...something, and his knee... She had to get away from this man, and it had to happen soon, or else all shit would surely hit the fan. And she sure did need a fan. Her face felt flush and beads of sweat smoothed their way down her neck. Slow trickle. Slow trickle. "One more?" His voice was different, and she had to look at him. He spoke again, but she couldn't hear his words for his lips. "One more New Year?", she managed after an awkward silent moment. She was shooting in the dark here. Even Mulder couldn't possibly be into watching yet another city, yet another country receiving the millennium, could he? The various festivities of various tribesmen on various small Pacific Islands couldn't be that exciting could it? She looked at the almost empty wine glass in his hand. Wasn't he tired of having fought zombies and being shot? Where was his battery and how could she pull it out? He smiled mischievously. What was up with him? She asked herself stupidly. "One more New Year's kiss." Whoa. Here they went, she thought aghast. This was minefield territory. This was walking on un-hatched eggs with elephant feet. So, he was thinking about the exact same thing she had been thinking about since their lips met in the hospital three hours ago. Their first kiss. Geehzuz. The first time their lips met. It had been one of those fairytale-like kisses, which promise more than they immediately deliver. And God knows she wanted more, but if she gave now, what would happen? She had the answer -- Fireworks. And they'd burn the entire apartment to ashes. She had to play dumb. She really shouldn't have let him kiss her like that. She had to play down the incident. To remain sane, she had to play stupid. She was tipsy, she was entitled to a little ignorance. "One more kiss?", she stated with a frown. Wow, she managed to put a frown in, too? Wohoo! "Uh-huh." He looked hopeful, and she knew she was skating on thin ice, while he was jumping up and down, determined to take the plunge. "Why?" Maybe she could throw off his groove by questioning his motives? "Why?" Yes, now she had him. Oops. What had she been thinking? Now he would have to go into detail about what made him want to kiss her? She really was stupid. Yet, she had mapped out this route herself, she couldn't back down and save face. "Yes 'why?', there must be a reason..." "Your lips." Nooo. This was not good. She didn't want to hear him talk about her lips like, like they were something he was allowed to comment on, something she was comfortable with having him talk about. This just wasn't what they did. She never commented on his body parts either. She just had wet dreams about them every goddamned night, and now was no exception. "My lips?", she managed meekly. "They are a reason." Play dumb. Play very, very dumb. Ignore the sexiness of his voice, the evident passion in his eyes. She had to play dumb. It was the only thing she could do. She raised an eyebrow. "Sooo, one more, Scully?" Shit, the eyebrow had been the wrong signal--entirely. Mulder inched closer to her on the couch, his left hand rested on the backrest, his other hand hovered restlessly in the space above her knee, waiting for a green light to finally descend. "I don't think...", she squeaked. "Good." His hand landed on her slack-clad knee. Roughly. Possessively. Just like that. "What?", she questioned him, poignantly, making sure he understood she didn't stand for his assumptions. What right did he have to rest his hand on her knee? "Don't think, Scully, just let it..." "...fly?" She shoved his hand away, and it flew to land with a soft thud on Mulder's right knee. "You remembered." Oh, shit. The Muldergrin in full force. That goddamned baseball lesson. Now she was in for it. She had giggled. Her treacherous throat had let giggles escape. She had safeguarded those giggles. She had warned them not to rear their heads in Mulder's presence. Play dumb. Play extremely dumb. DON'T raise the eyebrow. "Hmm?" "You really liked my present, didn't you, Scully?" His arousal. The warmth of it sending shivers up her spine, even though tucked in behind cotton and denim she had felt him. Jesus. She wasn't supposed to dwell on the feel of him. She had vowed to herself that she wouldn't give his cock a second thought. Easy enough? Right? "Hmm...", she waved away the topic, surveying the floor, as if looking for her boots. "One more?" "What? Baseball lesson?", she said nonchalantly, striving to get up off the couch. He inched closer quickly, his hand landing on her thigh this time, preventing her from getting up. His palm was warmer than his knee, it burnt through the fabric of her slacks, because now he pressed his palm on her knee earnestly. Instant conflagration. "Kiss." She shook her head, regretting having infected her system with wine and champagne, her defenses were low; her control levers were slipping from her tight grip. His fingers were now seductively massaging her thigh, his eyes, begging. "Mulder...", she whispered. How on earth would she get herself out of this mess? She should get Mulder's hand off her thigh. Jesus, how long had she already let it rest there? "What's the big deal here, Scully? It's just a kiss." Just a kiss? What a joke! If Mulder kissed her again, she'd surely throw herself into the fire, happily, without a second thought. By the way, when was the last time she had been thoroughly kissed? "Nothing more, just a kiss, cross my heart." His voice was velvety, and she had to believe him. If he kissed her like he had kissed her at the hospital, maybe she could let him? It was just going to be a chaste kiss, right? And if she was going to do this, it would have to be on her terms. It would have to be an exact repeat of the New Year's Kiss. An EXACT repeat. "No tongue." What? Why the hell did she mention tongue? What the hell was her index finger doing, pointing at him like he was someone she could control? How dumb was she? She was entertaining the thought of having him kiss her, already dictating the rules of the game? What was wrong with the world? Mulder looked giddy. This was bad, worse than bad. "No tongue?" Did he just whine? Had she gone perfectly non-self-aware? Wasn't she the consummate professional who went by the book, the prim and proper FBI-agent who did not mix business with pleasure? Yes! Stop looking into his eyes, woman, you'll cave! Get up! "Mulder, let me go." Finally she found some resolve. Thank heavens! "Sculleeeh, it's just a kiss." "Mulder, there's nothing 'just' with you, you always..." "I always what?" Oh, crap, what now? Was she supposed to tell him how passionate she knew him to be, about most everything in his life? How she thought he would in all likelihood be a very intense and extremely enthusiastic, and, overwhelming lover? This was bad, really baaad... "You always...magnify..." Did she just whine? "At the hospital, Scully..." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I was a perfect gentleman." She nodded feeling totally flushed. Damned hormones! "And you don't trust me to be one here?" She bit her lip. He looked crestfallen, and let go of her thigh. What now? Shit! "You are afraid of me..." "No!" "Then why do you need rules?" She sighed as vehemently as she could. She would not let him know how close she was to falling into his arms. How she longed for his fingers to walk up her inner thigh in a slow, meticulous shuffle. She remained seated, launching another deep sigh. Mulder turned to her once again, hope in his countenance. "So, one more?" She found herself shaking her head, even though her heart was already pumping blood into her lips, preparing her for love. "Come here." His hands found her waist. No! She could not let him do this. She couldn't let him throw away his kisses on her. "Is this really necessary?", she found her voice. "To kiss one has to be close enough to..." "Are we really this pathetic and sad?" "What do you mean?" Was he really this oblivious? Didn't he realize he could have anyone he wanted? Was he really this desperate? "It's New Year's and we have to kiss each other." "Why would that be pathetic?" "It is sad, Mulder. Best friends kissing, in lack of real boy or girlfriends." There. The voice of reason. She had waited, and it had come to save her, to safeguard her heart from the intentions of this man. Their friendship. "Our lips are real, Scully. Are you ready?" She wasn't ready to risk her stability. She wasn't willing to throw herself into his arms. He was pleading for it, yet she could never give it to him. He'd crush her. He'd have her and leave her. Right? "I can't. I'm sorry." "Why?" He looked like he was going to start crying any second. He felt his wounded arm as if it was his heart, or so he tried to make it seem. What an actor, knew how to pull his crowd into the performance. His eyes were watery. Dear Lord. "Please, Scully, please." OK, this was getting ridiculous already. She had to lie. "It feels weird." "What?" "This planning of the kiss. It's ridiculous." There it was. This was an excellent excuse. Kissing Mulder was ridiculous! "I can surprise you as you turn to say goodnight." "Mulder..." "What?" It had gone far enough, the charade had to come to an end or else they would be having this discussion until it was time to hit the office again. "This isn't real." "It's a kiss, Scully, do we have to analyze it to death?" He didn't understand. She worried her lip. If she kissed him once more, could she leave? If she caved in, would she be able to walk out of his apartment with her sense of self intact? Or would she drown? "Just let it fly?" "Yes." His demeanor brightened, his sag was gone in a second. He looked like a different person, and her heart skipped a beat to see it. "No tongue?" "Do you want tongue, Scully?" "No!" She had to be the one in control, at least theoretically. French-kissing her partner would not end well. "You keep bringing it up..." "I don't." "Come closer." She heard the arousal in his voice and she shivered at the thought of him so enthused... "This is nuts, Mulder." Yeah. Nuts. Go there, idiot. Balls and nuts. Are you insane? "I won't tell anyone." Who the hell would he tell? The Gunmen? Frohike'd be crushed. Yeah, Mulder would most certainly gloat with this. "Maybe we shouldn't, Mulder." "You won't regret it." She already regretted this discussion. "I won't, huh?" "No." OK, so a quick peck, and she'd be on her way home. "No tongue?" "No tongue." "No tongue." "You ready?" "Okay." He leaned forward, tilted his head, closed his eyes and pressed his lips roughly to hers, his tongue immediately darting out to sneak inside her mouth. No. No. "Muld..." She managed to pull away. "What?" "You used tongue!" Dear Lord. She was panting. "Did you like it?" The grin on his face was a perfect blend of mischief and contentment. "Your tongue?" "One more?" "'One more?'" "Just one more, Scully, then you can go home." He attacked her face and pushed his tongue inside as she yelped in surprise. The cheat! He whirled his tongue around in her mouth and she tried to push him out with hers, but that only fuelled his fire. He thought she was in on this whole tongue thing! Damn the man! Finally he backed out. "Muld..." "Mmm?" "You used tongue again." Her tone was no-nonsense and reprimanding, she felt. Her insides were non-coagulated marmalade. "You did, too." "You made me..." "Yes?" "Use my..." "Yes?" He looked at her with smoldering, lust-filled boudoir eyes, and she couldn't handle this anymore. "This is...stupid, I'm going home." "Don't go." "What now?" She fidgeted in front of him, like she'd have to pee. "One more?" "Kiss?" She whined. "Yes." "I don't think so..." Where was the portal to real life, where was the door out of this madness? Where was the big, wet tomato she'd suck face with as a surrogate? "You liked it." Yes. She liked, no, she loved it. But would she admit that to him? She was alone with him, in his apartment, they were adults. Mulder was horny, that's all. "It wasn't real." Her lifeline. Her self-defense. "No, it wasn't." "What?!" No. No. Mulder wasn't serious, was he? Was she right? Was she really only a diversion? "It was unreal, out of this world, amazing." Shit! Mulder noticed her sad expression and broken heart-face, and now he wanted to comfort her, reassure her, to get what he wanted-nookie on the couch in 3D for a change. "Muld..." Out, woman. See that brown thing over there. That's the door. "C'mere." Mulder's raspy voice was tickling her eardrums and she longed to let him lick her there. Damn the man! "'C'mere'?" Helplessly blushing, she managed a raised eyebrow. "One more..." He was asking for another one? She'd agreed twice already. "You always say that." "And I'll keep saying that until you cave again, again and again." Mulder wanted to kiss her until she finally said no? Milk Dana Scully for all she's worth, then toss her out the window. "I don't get you." "No tongue?" "Er..." "Tongue?" "Mulder..." "C'mere." "Mulder, you don't want..." "Come closer." OK, so she had walked all the way over into the space between his goddamned thighs. Enough was enough. "This is close enough." "Well..." "What?" she barked. "For a kiss, yes..." "But...?" she put her hands to her waist, in great defiance...between his legs... "For a real kiss..." "A 'real kiss'?" "Uh-huh." "Pray DO tell what a REAL kiss is." Why was she such an asshole all of a sudden? "It's when you moan." Hubbbabaaa...whatdidhesay? "'Moan'??" "Is there an echo in here?" "Moan?" She raised her eyebrow. "You can moan, can't you, Scully?" Whoa. When she moaned, if she moaned, she was wholly alone, thank you very much. Sad. Yeah, sad and pathetic-but when she moaned she was particular about being alone in the room. "Yes, but..." "Yes, but what?" This was ridiculous. "I'm not going to PLAN my moans." "Why not?" "It's stupid, Mulder." There. The voice of reason. What a fluke. Plan your moans...insanity, without possibility of reinstatement or... "You wanted to plan the tongue thing, too." "You're crazy, I'm going home. Happy New Year." He grabbed her from behind with his uninjured arm, twisted her arm in the process, whirled her around to face him, cocked his head to gain access to her mouth and bit her lips, so she had to open them, sucking forcefully on her lips...and letting go with a decadent pop. "Mulder..." "You moaned, Scully." "I didn't!" She felt the flush on her face, it had infected her whole body it seemed. Red spots all over her arms and hands. "Yes, you did, and you used your tongue, too." "..." "One more?" "Mulder..." "C'mere." "Stop this!" There, Mulder. There you have it. No more. "Why, your mouth feels so good, I want another taste." "You're insane!" "Yes. C'mere." "What now?" "I want to feel your arms around me." "Mulder..." "I'm curious, okay?" "You're 'curious'?" "Just want to know if you can reach around me." OK. This was it. He'd called her feet little once and now he was insulting her arms? Damned the gall of him! "What?!" "Can you reach around me?" "What does that have to do with...anything?" He was yanking her chain, trying to tick her off, and damned him, he was succeeding. "Try it." "Why?" "Humor me, Scully." She'd show him what for. "No funny business." "No funny business, no tongue, no moan..." "Fine." He sat down on the edge of his couch. She leaned down and put her arms around his torso, and reached well around to clap her hands behind him. His face was on neutral, albeit one inch from hers. Amazing the man had some self-restraint. She managed a confident smile, yet it was short-lived. Mulder surged his tongue into her smile and grabbed her hair to keep her from getting away from his wild oral dance. "Mul..." she tried, but, damn it came out as a goddamned moan, his tongue preventing clearer communication. "God, Scully..." "Muld..." "I'm sorry, Scully, but the way your hands roamed my back..." "My hands didn't 'roam' your back!" "They did, and I had to kiss you" "You used tongue." "You moaned..." "I'm going home now." "Just one more?" "What?!" "Moan." "Mulder!" "Humor me, Scully." "Why should I?" "Because you want to?" "I don't!" "I think you do." "Well, your dead-wrong." "C'mere." "You don't give up, do you?" "No." "If I moan once I can go?" "That depends..." "On what?" "If your moan is real." "You think I fake my moans?" "No, I don't think you can." "What?" "I think you can't help but moan when you kiss me." "Well, aren't we confident?" "Prove me wrong." "What?" "Moan for me." "OK, this is where I leave..." He looked into her eyes; his praying for her affection. All through their rough debate his eyes had been gazing into hers, boring holes into her armor, which no longer shielded her heart or tongue from the man in front of her. "Mulder..." "What?" "Kiss me." "Why?" Her slap could have been avoided. It rung in both their ears for a good two seconds, until they couldn't stand the wait any longer. The Happy Tongue End