Chapter Text
No one can ever know about this.
Mulder wished Scully had never uttered those words. He regretted ever agreeing to secret hook-ups and undisclosed feelings, but she'd been on top of him, wet, needy, and slick. If she'd asked him to burn their office to ashes, he would've done it just to know how she tasted. After wanting her so badly for so long, he nodded, smiled, and said, "Whatever you want, Scully."
He hadn't known then what it would turn into. That three months later they'd still be sneaking around. That shadowy trysts and muffled whispers would outweigh any real conversation between them. Maybe that was his fault. Their first time set a precedent. Somehow, he'd found himself in his office chair with Scully's skirt hiked up and his cock poking through the zipper of his slacks. They should've been in bed after a nice dinner. He should have been folding down clean sheets instead of swatting paper clips and files from behind her head as he laid her on the desk. Instead, he'd thrust into her with one eye trained on the ajar door. No one ever came down to the basement. Still, there was always a chance, and that chance got Scully off.
Turns out, Scully was a little exhibitionist. Maybe it was all that repressed good girl Catholicism that had her reaching for his cock whenever there was a chance of getting caught. Like now, in the single stall bathroom of a swanky hotel. Just outside were other agents, dressed in cocktail attire to celebrate the end of another team-building seminar. In here, he had Scully on the edge of the marble countertop, working on a different type of team building, one that had her whispering how good he felt in his ear.
He was about to come. Thirty seconds if he was lucky. A minute if he could manage to pry his gaze from Scully's breasts, spilling out of her black lacey bra. His lips dove for her neck just to give it a try. He could tell she was close, too. Her thigh muscles tensed as she turned slick and tight around him. Pushing her over the edge would be easy, and he knew exactly how to do it.
"Keep nice and quiet when you come for me, baby," he uttered against her flesh.
That did the trick. Nails bit into his shoulders. Her sex clenched. Sucking up her whimpers and cries with his mouth became his top priority. If he were honest, it turned him on. The way she could barely keep from screaming made his knees weak and his cock harder. Fuck, he couldn't hold it together any longer. Not when she felt so warm and wet fluttering around him. The rush of release pulled him under and left him stifling his groans against her lips, her neck, or whatever bit of flesh he could touch and taste.
It wasn't until after he helped her off the counter and tucked himself back into his slacks that he could manage coherent thoughts. "Is it okay that I called you baby?"
Manicured fingers ran through mussed hair and swiped a fresh coat of lipstick across thoroughly kissed lips. The cocktail dress that he'd yanked down and hiked up was already back in place, their secret pooling between her legs. Mulder had seen this routine dozens of times now. The hurried refresh, the frazzled touch-ups, anything to make it seem like they hadn't just fucked each other to world-flipping completion.
He caught her smile in the bathroom mirror. "You can call me anything, Mulder, as long as it's sweet."
It wasn't true, though. He couldn't call her his girlfriend. He couldn't even say they were romantically involved. The words I love you hadn't had a chance to leave his lips because they were too busy sneaking around. Scully was a secret indulgence, a pint of ice cream devoured while standing in a dark kitchen so no one could see. To keep their jobs, it made sense. But why couldn't they tell her mother? Their friends?
"I'll go out first," she said, giving herself one last look in the mirror and smoothing her dress. "You come out two minutes later. No less."
He swore this part got her off, too—the reintroduction into public with his fingerprints all over her. Later, when they locked stares from across the room, her eyes would sparkle with mischief. Those ice blue orbs would slam against him like sonar, and just like that, he'd be hungry for her again. So fucking hungry.
She rose on tiptoes. Her closing kiss signified the end of another frenzied fuck. Greed had him grasping for more. "Come home with me later."
"You know I can't."
He laughed, the sound grim and low. Outside, music and chatter reminded him they weren't alone. Someone would need this bathroom eventually. "We'd be less likely to get caught there."
"But we'd be more likely to complicate this."
"What if I'm okay with that?"
Her lips twitched into a frown. "What if I'm not?" A thousand questions and a million protests formed on his tongue, but she silenced them with another delicate kiss. "Two minutes," she reminded him.
With that, she left. The stolen glances, the shared looks, would hold him over, but it wasn't enough. He didn't want to be her secret anymore.