Work Text:
She doesn’t kiss him when he gets off the plane, bleary-eyed and harassed, although she certainly considers it. Pissy Mulder with his grim little mouth is cute when it’s not directed at her or government conspiracies or poor nurses who have no clue why he’s shouting at them. He huffs out some interesting curse words while tossing bags around in the luggage claim. Scully watches him patiently, hands clasped behind her back.
When he finally finds his bag he cusses a little more, but his tone lifts, and when he swivels to find Scully standing behind him, his face goes soft and the tension drains from his body like air from a popped balloon.
“Scully,” he smiles. “Hi.”
He is not a little bit shamed by his petulant display.
“Hi yourself,” Scully says. She reaches to smooth some wrinkles from his jacket, and his eyes follow her hands. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a whole lot of lukewarm Chinese takeout with our names on it.”
He doesn’t kiss her, either, but it’s pretty obvious he wants to.
***
Over shrimp-fried rice and spare ribs, Mulder complains endlessly about the case and ogles Scully’s bare arms when he thinks she isn’t looking.
“There was no need for me to leave the basement to write that profile, Scully,” he grunts, shoveling another forkful of rice in his mouth. He stares at her and chews thoughtfully before shaking his head. “Honestly, the things I have to do as penitence for your rash and unruly behavior.”
Scully bites out a laugh, fondly wiping a grain of rice from the corner of his mouth. “My hero.”
For a while they eat in companionable silence, except for the times Scully chooses to comment on the (not purposely) god-awful movie they’re watching. Mulder never expected Scully to be the type to chatter away through movies, and it thrills rather than annoys him. He just really likes talking to her.
When it’s over, she insists on boxing up the left-overs instantly because Mulder made an off-hand comment about roaches and she’d been paranoid ever since. She forces him to wait while she puts everything in Mulder’s sad little tupperware, arguing the food will last longer that way. When she shuts the fridge and turns to face him leaning against the counter, he’s grinning suspiciously.
“What, Mulder?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he says. He begins to play with the arm holes of her tank-top. “I should’ve guessed you got off on the anticipation, is all.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” But she knows what he’s talking about. She’s just very distracted by the the way his fingers are stroking her bra strap.
“It’s past your bedtime, Scully.”
***
Then finally, finally, he’s kissing her stupid, peeling her out of her clothes and urging her to stay still so he can keep kissing her, kissing her everywhere.
The weight of his body along hers feels like a long-needed massage. When they strip him of his clothes, he’s lithely rutting against her stomach, rubbing his slick and velvety cock over her mons veneris, her belly button. She keeps trying to move her mouth over his nose, down the long line of his neck, but he shakes his head and licks into her mouth.
“Kiss me,” he begs. She complies.
It’s only been a week and they shouldn’t be this desperate. When he slips his hand down the undulating curves of her body and begins to fuck her with his fingers, slowly, deeply, Scully marvels on how she survived a whole week and lifts her hips to meet him thrust by thrust. She's so wet she slicks up the flesh of his palm as he drives into her. She clenches down around him and he moans weakly into her mouth.
God, he wants to see her. Wants to watch her ride his hand and tug her own nipples and lick her own lips. He lifts his leg, intending to kneel at her side, but she is too clever for him and takes advantage of his new position by lifting herself onto her elbows and leaning in to lap at the glistening tip of his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” he mouths silently, and he can’t even be mad. The angle makes it impossible for her to take him deep but she licks whatever she can reach, bobbing her head and pressing sucking kisses to his heated flesh.
“I missed you,” she moans against him. She lets him trace the spit-slick contours of her plush, swollen lips, dipping her tongue into the slit of him. He nearly bucks the whole thing down her throat.
The claw hold does not cease, only emboldens at her actions and she finds herself stuffed full with three impossibly long fingers, his thumb tracing her clit in tight circles. He’s shifted so he’s straddling her again, a knobby knee cradled into the pillow of her perfect breasts, and he leans down to kiss her hair, her forehead, her little nose and flushing cheeks. Her mouth is wide open in what he hopes is sheer ecstasy and he stretches down to bite at her lips.
“Mm, oh Mulder,” she chokes out a desperate laugh, her hips writhing uncontrollably. She’s a twitchy, gaspy thing. “What are you doing to me?”
He answers with a firm kiss to the top of her head and crawls down the short length of her body and off the bed, settling on his knees between her spread thighs. He presses his mouth to her, a deep, sloppy kiss, and slips his hand up to caress her breast. She arches into his mouth and hisses, ruffling her fingers through his soft hair.
“So good,” she mumbles. “You are so, so good.”
His tongue works into her and his eyes roll back a little at the feeling of her gripping and sucking at him. The spongy muscle, the metallic taste of her, the way she soaks his chin and cheeks, it all feels like home, like her cunt is where he should be living and breathing for all of eternity.
Tongue moving in long, worshipful strokes, nose rubbing mercilessly against her clit, Scully has been reduced to a babbling mess when she pulls his fingers out of her mouth (when did that happen?) and tugs at his hair. “In me, get in me now.”
Mulder can hardly ever say no to Scully, as long as they weren’t talking aliens, and sinking into her smooth, blisteringly hot depths is a great reminder of why. Scully is so smart. Scully has the best ideas.
He covers her like a blanket, the way he knows she likes it. The first time they’d tried this he worried he was suffocating her, but Scully just slapped his ass and told him to get a move on. Oh, Scully. So smart.
When he bottoms out, he has to pause. He feathers her with light little kisses to her eyelids and the mole by her cupid’s bow, relaxing a bit as Scully’s sure hands massage his neck and the top of his back. He groans into her cheek. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too,” she whispers. Her legs wrap around his waist and her fingers dig deeper into his skin. “Alright, Mulder. The anticipation is over.”
He starts slow and hard, refusing to break the warm seal of their bodies for more than the second it takes to withdrawal from her and push back in.
“I can feel you pulsing,” Scully whispers. It makes him feel light-headed. “You’re so hard. I want it so bad.”
He molds into the embrace of her, chin tucked behind her ear and hips pushing into her greedy, clutching hands, then back, pulled flush against her pubic bone. She’s dripping down her thighs, down his thighs, and the friction of being so close is tugging at his chest hair. The pebbled tips of her nipples feel sharp, like they’re cutting him, and he wants to bleed into her, melt so that he’s always with her.
When Scully turns her head to suck and bite at his neck, his hips stutter. The base of his spine is on fire and the flames are licking his stomach. He quickly pulls out.
“Mulder – no! Mulder what the hell?” Scully whines, grabbing a fistful of his hair to drag him back up. He ignores her pleading as he continues the descent of her body, his soaking cock bobbing between them like a white flag.
“Too close there, Scully,” he says, spreading her labia with his thumbs. After licking a stripe over her clit: “It’s been a week, wanna make this last.”
She groans even as he takes her clit between his lips and sucks, reaching down to smooth back his hair from where she mussed it. “Mulder – oh shit – Mulder you’ve gone years without it, now get back up here.”
He releases her clit with a smack of his lips and brings a finger down to rub at the sensitive skin of her perineum. “Must be an X-file.”
“Stop messing around! Wanna come with you inside me. Please, Mulder? I - oh, god – I need it.”
“You will come with me inside you,” he agrees happily. He can feel her muscles contracting and see the tell-tale flush of her skin, starting at her pretty little breasts. “You’ll come this way, too.”
“Oh damn it, Mulder!” And she breaks. He watches the whole thing, the way her head falls back on the pillows, how her lips curl up. That is his favorite thing about her. She smiles when she comes.
Taking advantage of her sated state, knowing she’s more likely to behave, he slides into her with one firm stroke, riding out the wave of her hips and shuddering thighs. She’s impossibly wet, now, and the sound of his cock driving into her removes his ability to breathe.
“Yes,” Scully whimpers. “This is what I want.”
“You've got it.” He can’t recognize the sound of his voice, that deep and that gravelly. She seems to like it though, panting harshly and groping at his arms, delighting in the way the thick muscles jump and ripple under her touch.
He nudges her mouth with his own and demands her best kisses, her deepest, wettest, most passionate kisses, searching with his tongue for all the landmarks he’d come to know and love. The wrinkled skin at the roof of her mouth, the ridges of her little teeth. Without looking or concentrating on the signs her body gives, he can feel when she comes by the way she smiles into his mouth, wide and so very, very pretty. He can’t see it but he knows. Her smile is as ingrained in him as his reaction to it. Her fingers knead into his back again, pushing and pulling and digging into his spine to ease the tension. “Let go. Let me feel it.”
With a few more short, powerful thrusts, he drags her hips flush against his and comes so unbelievably hard, pulsing into her for what feels like forever. He knows she’s full with him and the thought makes him wince when he pulls out of her, too appealing to his over-sensitized dick.
After, when practical Scully has finished peeing and grabbing them a large glass of water to share, Mulder spends his time kissing her stomach and murmuring into her breasts. He makes himself at home in her body and she welcomes it, stroking her fingers over his face and ears.
“I feel like I’m always anticipating something with you,” he says. Her nipple is poking his eye socket.
“Must be why you waited seven years to make a move.”
“Oh, that was because I was busy doing… hm. Picking up dry cleaning, on Fridays.” He kisses every one of her ribs, and enfolds her hand in his. "Taking down an international government conspiracy to conceal alien colonization efforts involving the mass-enslavement of mankind, every other day of the week."
“Oh, well. Try to schedule yourself better, then.”
“Mm.” He presses his face into her stomach and closes his eyes. “I’ll try.”