Work Text:
She knew exactly what she was doing when she stole to his room in the dead of night, innocent cotton underwear concealed only by a thin robe. She knew exactly what she was doing, and exactly why she should not have been doing it, as she turned her back to him and slipped the silk from her shoulders, revealing a swathe of bare, porcelain skin to him.
She knew she was doing exactly what she swore not to when he chuckled and declared mosquitoes over aliens, and she turned in to him, hiding away in the warmth and solidity of him. When she slid her hands into his open shirt, tugged it from his shoulders. When she tilted her face up to his, brushed lips against his jaw, pressed herself further into his body at his breathy ‘Scully.’
‘Hold me?’ he nodded, wrapped her up, the first time he’d try and hide her from the world, to keep her safe within his arms. And when she raised herself on tiptoe, ground her pelvis to his, and he let out a soft groan, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were going to make a mistake, and that she was not going to do one damn thing about it.
She’d been thinking about it since she walked into his office, stumbled upon a boyish smile and rakish hair, not at all the slimy dork she’d been expecting. He didn’t fit the picture she’d been building. She had expected someone less lean, maybe with dandruff, maybe with a trace of acne scars. She’d always had him in her mind as one of the AV club boys from high school; a genius, limited social skills but someone who would raise their hand in class, would avoid talking to girls but would have parried her equally in a physics class. Funny, she’d never seen a photo of the famous Fox Mulder until she met him, only heard of his excellence and in turn his insanity.
But he was an attractive man. And intelligent, in an albeit slightly wacko way. And he was charming and felt safe, despite also feeling the farthest from it. And he was kind. And funny. And so, so different from Ethan. They were both wound up, agitated from the storm and on edge from the case. Just one night – what harm could that do?
She knew, even before she questioned it, that one night could do more harm than any benefits it might raise. She knew her history, a repetitive cycle of superiors who thrived off of using her. Her bad track-record with mixing pleasure and work. This wasn’t a man who did relationships, she knew that too. Could see it in his eyes, in the way he flirted so terribly, in the passion and devotion he had for his work. No, this wasn’t a man who would take her to dinner, or remember her birthday. This wasn’t a man who could love her unconditionally, but then, when had any of her previous relationships required that? And who had said anything about relationships anyway? This was going to be one night; one night of weakness before going back to work.
It only took a light touch to his chin, a soft ‘kiss me,’ and he was cupping the back of her head and fiddling the sash of her robe and entwining his tongue with her own. Her hand joined his at her waist and she helped him with the knot, a nudge of encouragement as she let the fabric pool at her feet, a glisten of blood in the flickering candlelight.
And then there were hands on her breasts and the snick of a zipper, fumbling fingers and a clumsy waltz back towards the bed. He broke away, pulling back slightly as he lowered her down to the bed, took a moment to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, run a slim digit down her neck, the valley of her breast. ‘You want this?’
She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to and didn’t want to, just locked eyes with his, gripped his torso and brought him down to her level, craning her neck to press her lips to the side of his cheek, his temple, his forehead, the left corner of his lips, and then his mouth fully, tugging on the flesh of his bottom lip with her teeth. With one final nip, she let go and he grinned, dark-eyed and wolfish, before dragging his lips down her body, open-mouthed and warm, leaving a wet trail cooling in his path. He’d pause, apply suction, move on, guided by her nails raking through his hair, teasing at the strands.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured when he reached the apex of her thighs, rubbed a thumb on a jutting hipbone, ran his nose along the elastic line of her panties, down the centre to the wetness gathered there. He grazed his teeth against her, through the thin fabric, causing her to gasp out a stuttering moan, propped on her elbows and staring down at him. His fingers hooked into the elastic, drawing them down her toned legs.
With feather-light brushes of his lips and quick little nips of her skin, he circled around her centre, nearing but never quite reaching.
It wasn’t until a growled ‘stop teasing,’ directed at the ceiling, that he latched on with a pressure that made her squirm and whimper. Eyes squeezed tight shut and breath coming in great heaves as he changed his pace and she rocked her body beneath him, continuing to squirm even when he placed a forearm over her stomach, pinning her down. He took his time, speeding up and slowing down his ministrations in time with the storm raging outside. It wasn’t long until she was clenching and unclenching her hands in the sheets beside her, digging her heels into the edge of the mattress to try and get some purchase, grinding herself into his mouth, quivering as he added his fingers to the mix. When he felt the first full quakes ripple her body, he used his thumb to rub tight circles on her clit, leaving her writhing beneath him, her hands grabbing at anything they could, her breaths short and rapid as he helped her ride it out and brought her down.
She puffed out a breath and, when she regained some strength in her arms, propped herself up, raised her eyebrows and gave him a coy smile as he sat back on his haunches and sucked his fingers in one by one before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. ‘You’re good at that.’
‘Better than you expected or better than you hoped?’
With a snort she swatted him lightly over the head, grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling him into her for a kiss, heated and passionate, licking the taste of herself from him. ‘These need to come off,’ she murmured as she tugged at his clothes. He nodded, standing and stepping back slightly from her. She reached down to touch him as he shucked his khakis, pulled his shirt over his head, the pads of her fingers playing patterns over him, ‘do you have protection?’
‘Oh, yeah, uh…hold on,’ he reached over to his wallet on the nightstand, flipped it open and pulled out a foil square with two fingers, smirking when she snatched it from him and tore into it with the corner of her teeth. ‘Fucking hell,’ he exhaled shakily as pressed her hand against his chest to nudge him to stand, sheathing him in latex with small hands and doctor’s precision, licking her lips once and spreading her hands to his ass to tug him back down to her, guiding him to her centre until the heat of her met the heat of him; grinding once, twice.
She canted her body forward, hands grasping at his shoulders and lips at his ear, a soft ‘ready?’ breathed into him. His answer took the form of him pushing slowly into her. Jaw dropped open, a light intake of breath, eyes slipping closed two-thirds of the way in, a moment for muscles to relax before withdrawing up and sinking back down again to press himself flush against her pelvis.
‘Okay?’
She nodded, tilted her head to throw the question back at him, receiving a grin in response. As much as she didn’t understand a thing about this man, she also understood him completely. He was wide open for her to read. As she was to him.
He leaned her back down to the bed, following to brace his forearms either side of her head, fingers fisting in her soft hair, ‘is it dyed?’
She half-laughed as he pulled out a few inches and slowly eased back in, setting a slow pace. ‘That’s what you’re thinking about right now?’
‘Well, the, er, the carpets don’t exactly match the drapes.’
She gave a cross between a gasp and a grunt, rocking her hips up to meet his, encouraging him to go faster. ‘Yes, it’s dyed.’
‘Natural red-head?’
‘Yes,’ she exhaled, reaching behind him, grasping at his back, digging into the skin there, dragging down to clench at his hips, pulling him closer, faster, harder.
‘Why?’
‘You want me to teach a class on genetics right now, or are you going to concentrate on the task at hand,’ her words were breathy, punctuated by frequent gasps and low moans, the occasional grunt as Mulder picked up his pace again.
He grinned, nodded, ‘yes, ma’am,’ed and dropped said hand to seek out her clit, found the same rhythm of hard, fast circles that had wound her up the first time, and snapped his hips into her as she tilted her head back, pushing it into the mattress. He could feel her legs trembling, her muscles constricting, watched as her jaw locked, open in a scream he couldn’t hear over her rapid breathing. He continued, as she orgasmed around him, to slowly pump in and out, just enough to prolong and guide her down from the high.
He was still shifting himself carefully inside of her as she caught her breath. When finally she opened her eyes to him, dark and deep, she bit her lip, gave a sly grin and, in one move, had him on his back, hands on his abs.
She started slow, barely more than a grinding rock, but it didn’t take her long to build up a speed that had him groaning beneath her. ‘You gonna come, Mulder?’
‘Not until,’ he gasped, slammed his eyes shut as she reached one hand up to cup a breast – she knew exactly what she was doing - ‘you do.’
‘Hmm,’ she chuckled throatily, ‘nice thought, but…’ she slammed herself down particularly hard, ‘probably not going to happen.’
‘Three…for the price…of one…bargain,’ he muttered, wrapping his hands around her waist to stabilise her as he sat up. The change of angle caused her to cry out, drop her head back, roll her hips faster.
She was becoming louder, and so was he, and with all the self-control he could muster he bent forward, caught the nipple that wasn’t pinched between her fingers in his teeth, and bit down, lashing his tongue out to soothe it, and bit down again.
She came with a whimper, her muscles clamping around him, and she could feel him tense inside of her, felt his guttural growl rumble through her chest as she slumped herself forward onto him, forehead rested against his shoulder. She took two deep breaths before he sank backwards, taking her with him to settle atop his chest.
A final twitch from within her and she lifted off of him, rolling to lay next to him on her back, eyes focusing far, far above the ceiling. ‘I’m gonna go clean up.’
‘Okay,’ she could feel him nod beside her and stood up without looking at him, bending down to grab her robe and underwear before slipping off into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Couldn’t believe herself. Couldn’t believe how weak she could have been. But, as she stood at the sink, splashing cold water on her face, running it over her wrists, she wondered if it would make it easier to work with him. Wondered if they’d gotten everything out of their system, if now they’d be able to work side by side, with less bickering and less tension. She hoped that would be the case, anyway.
Taking one final glance in the mirror as she tied the sash of her robe tightly around her, she unlocked the door and stepped out to find he was back in the clothes he’d been in when she’d arrived, tugging the button down over his t-shirt. ‘That wasn’t what I meant, you know?’
‘What wasn’t?’
‘About your hair. I didn’t want to know why it’s red. I wanted to know why it isn’t red now.’
‘Oh,’ she nodded, considering him as he patted the duvet on the side they hadn’t used, nodding for her to take a seat if she wanted it. As much as her brain was telling her to leave, to make a clean break of it, she was still shaken, and his company was intriguing. So she sat, and he sat next to her, on the floor, craning his neck to look up at her. ‘I started dying it in college. I went through this…phase.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Mmmhm. I dyed it black back then. And I wore a lot of leather and tartan and ripped denim, all in sizes too big for me.’
He grinned, ‘Dana Scully, were you a punk?’
‘Uhuh.’
‘You rebel.’ She laughed lightly, laying herself down on top of the covers, propping herself up on an elbow to continue talking to him. ‘Any other dark secrets? Tattoos?’
She dragged the blanket up from the foot of the bed, covering her legs with it, ‘no tattoos, but I do have a navel piercing.’
‘Who’d have guessed? What happened to the black then?’
‘I guess I grew out of it. Med school didn’t give me the time or energy to keep dying it, and then at the academy, I found it easier to stand out with my achievements rather than my looks, so I started dying it brown. And I just kept it that way.’
‘I think you’d be pretty with your natural hair colour. Besides, I think you’d stand out with your looks whatever the colour of your hair.’
She gave him a warm smile, ‘thank you, Mulder. That’s very kind of you to say. So, now you know my real hair colour and that I have a piercing that I imagine my parents would probably kill me for if they found out about it, any deep, dark secrets of your own. Tit for tat as it were.’
‘It’s deep. Like, really deep.’
‘I can do deep,’ she said, a moment of solemnity passing over her features.
‘I was twelve when it happened. My sister was eight…’
‘We need to talk about the other night,’ he said quietly as they sat side by side on an uncomfortable airport bench.
‘No, we don’t. What happened, happened. If we’re going to be working together, we’re not going to talk about it,’ she shook her head, crossed her legs and looked up at the departure board. Tired, weary and confused about a case that made absolutely no scientific sense and provided no real proof of anything, she just wanted to get back home, to take a proper shower, to sleep in her own bed.
‘No, I mean, not about that. Well, kind of about that. I just…when I was cleaning up the room I found the thing…the condom.’
‘And?’
‘It was broken.’
She snorted, shook her head, her brain taking a moment to catch up – it had been a long week. ‘What do you mean, broken?’
‘Split. I guess, you know, it was in my wallet for a while and, y’know, we weren’t exactly gentle.’
‘Shit.’
‘I’m clean, just so you know.’
‘That’s not exactly what I’m worried about right now,’ she brought a hand up to her brow, pinched the bridge of her nose, ‘shit.’
‘I mean, it was only one time, right?’
‘That’s all it takes,’ she snapped, before softening slightly, giving him an apologetic smile, ‘sorry.’
‘’S’fine. So, um, what do you want to do?’
‘Nothing,’ she shook her head, ‘we’re not going to talk about this again.’
‘But what if-‘
‘If anything comes of it, I’ll deal with it, Mulder. Christ, what am I gonna tell Ethan?’
‘Ethan?’
‘My, uh, boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, I guess.’
‘Oh. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have-‘
‘I came on to you, Mulder. Don’t feel guilty about it.’
‘Well, you don’t have to break up with him because of me-‘
She gave a sardonic laugh, rolled her eyes, ‘I’m not. I’m breaking up with him because he’s an ass. You have absolutely nothing to do with it. Look, I was going to break up with him anyway. This is merely a coincidence. I’m going to go get a coffee,’ and with that she stood up and left him, hoping that when she got back the conversation would be over and never need to be had again.
It would be brought up once more, in a hushed conversation over the phone as she lay next to Ethan for the last time. He’d ask, after a hurried discussion on Billy Miles and the missing evidence, if she were okay, if she wanted to talk about what had happened between them, and she’d decline him, tell him it was just a reaction to being overwhelmed with the introduction to so many new ideas and concepts.