There was no discussion.
At least, not at first. The moment they were safely back inside their own house they were wrapped around each other, this time truly unable to keep their hands off each other.
They were breathless, relentless, and she wanted to stop and talk but the way his hands slid down to rest on the curve of her ass made it difficult.
“We should… the case…” she mumbled against his lips.
“Fuck the case,” he responded as his hands slid up and down her back.
“That wouldn’t be very responsible of us,” she pointed out, gasping for air.
“I’m starting to see why we never did this before,” he laughed. “How the hell are we going to get anything done again?”
His implication that this would be an ongoing feature of their partnership filled her stomach with butterflies. He was right, though. This, right now, was more important than the case. So many times in the past they’d pushed their personal feelings aside for the work, for the bigger picture. Here and now, they had to give themselves precedence. They were pouring every ounce of their unresolved longing into each other in this moment; no restraint, no audience. No disguises.
No more pretending.
Their tongues and their hands roamed, exploring all the curves and surfaces they’d never been able to. He was trying to take it slowly, she could tell, and she worried her body would betray her. She was beyond aroused already. He began taking down the zipper of her dress, as she flattened her palms against his lean back. She pulled him against her, desperate for vindication that she turned him on just as much as he did her, and she found it. He was impossibly hard already and her brain was in a whirlwind, unable to believe any of this was happening.
“I don’t believe this…” he said softly, his lips curled into a gentle smile, as if echoing her very thoughts. “I can’t believe this is real.”
“Six years together and this is the thing you can’t believe, Mulder?” she grinned.
“It’s by far the unlikeliest,” he insisted. “Trust me.”
She pulled back, and traced her fingers along the collar of his sea green polo shirt, fingering the tiny Lacoste emblem at his chest. It wasn’t him, not completely, and she wanted it gone. She grabbed the bottom and slipped the shirt off him, up over his head.
She’d seen Mulder shirtless before, many times, but never in a situation where she was allowed to ogle. He was a good looking man, she’d always thought so. But looking at him now she could only consider him perfection.
This time, he was hers.
She moved down to his belt and, after giving him a tiny glance, began to unbuckle it. Before long he stood before her, absent the CC&R approved wardrobe and clad only in his boxer briefs.
That’s my Mulder, she thought.
She began removing her own dress, one arm at a time, slowly. Although she knew from his own lips earlier he approved, it too didn’t feel like her, and she wanted them to be themselves tonight, utterly and completely. She rid herself of the white picket fence threads and suddenly they were standing in front of each other in their underwear, in the foyer of their fake house, stripped down and vulnerable.
She looked at him a bit shyly, the bulge in his shorts straining for release. This was really happening, and it was happening now. She closed her eyes.
She felt him approach her, and he dragged his knuckles up and down her upper arms. She shivered.
“Are we really doing this, Scully?” he asked quietly.
She opened her eyes. “It’s really you, right? This is you and me? Not Rob and Laura?”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s really us. I just want you to be sure.”
In response, she reached out to hold his face between her hands. “I’m so sure that it scares me, Mulder,” she said. “Are you scared?”
Scared of what, she didn’t really know. Scared of changing them forever, scared it might not meet her fantastically enormous expectations. Scared that, after all of this, he could never love her as much as she did him.
But he shook his head, and just as he had done six years ago in a motel room in Oregon, he pulled her into an embrace that in a single moment allayed every single one of her fears.
“Scully, I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first touched your hand. Nothing could be less scary than finally being able to show you.”
She thought she might die from happiness and relief. He loved her, he just said it out loud.
They’d encountered so much horror during their time together; monsters and killers and things that were truly to be feared. But for the longest time what they’d been afraid of most was admitting their true feelings to each other.
This didn’t have to be like that, not anymore. This had become very, very simple.
“I love you too, Mulder,” she said, and the words were so liberating on her tongue. Everything about this felt so right. The time, the place. The man. If her life was a record, it had just skipped. The song was beginning again, and the music was perfect.
There was no more that needed to be said. She took his hand and led him upstairs, into the master bedroom, the one she’d kicked him out of on multiple occasions before tonight.
They tumbled backwards onto the bed, kissing and fumbling with what remained of their clothing. His hands moved along her back, her shoulders, and she enjoyed the touch she finally had permission to feel. She felt them move to her bra clasp, unhooking it, and she slid the bra off and pushed him back, straddling him. She gazed at his chest, toned and perfect, dragging her fingers along his hot skin. God, he was beautiful.
His hands immediately moved to cup both of her breasts, cradling them in his palms, feeling their weight. Her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of him finally touching her in this intimate way. He rolled his thumbs across her pert nipples and it felt amazing, almost painfully arousing.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, as she responded in kind, stroking him through his underwear. She could feel his girth and even through the fabric he was hot beneath her hand. She wanted more.
Hooking her fingers in his waistband she slid his shorts down, releasing his impressive erection. She wrapped her hand around his cock, boldly exploring every ridge, every crest. She'd been waiting so long to do this, and she felt her own heartbeat thudding deep down inside her core as she brought her thumb around to circle his red tip, already leaking with want for her.
“Scully…” he moaned, and his eyes drooped closed. His hands slid down reluctantly from her breasts to her ass, then back again to her breasts, squeezing as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he needed more hands to touch her as much as he wanted to.
She sat down on him, nearly losing her breath at the contact. They’d kissed for the first time barely twenty minutes ago and now they were on the verge of consummation, after six long years of nothing. This, right now, was so much something she could hardly process it.
She reached underneath her to hold his dick between her folds and moved slowly, testing the waters, sliding back and forth, and although she was wetter than she thought possible the friction threatened to drive her mad with desire.
Suddenly he gripped her by the hips and flipped her over onto her back. It was a bold move, a familiar move, as if somehow he knew she’d enjoy a bit of domination. She yelped with delight and giggled as he dragged his lips along her body, her neck, along her collarbone, inside the sweaty hollow between her breasts, down to her stomach.
“After all this time, I’m not going to let myself beat you to the finish line,” he explained. He circled her belly button with his tongue as he swiftly removed her panties, then began placing small kisses down the inside of her thigh. He slowly bent her knees and planted her feet to either side until she was exposed to him fully. She waited, watching his face display a rainbow of emotions as he looked at her.
“God, Scully,” he whispered. She could feel how wet she was and it was almost embarrassing how much he turned her on, how completely bared she was to him, body and soul. This all was happening so fast. It was almost too much to take.
She felt him begin to explore her with a single finger, sliding it just within her slickness, up and down, feather soft. His eyes locked with hers and he grinned, as if to say I can’t believe you’re actually letting me, Mulder, do this. He lightly grazed her clit with the tip of his finger and she wanted to scream out, she felt so close already. Most men she’d been with had to work much harder to get her to this point, and he’d barely touched her. How was it even possible?
He locked his gaze onto hers and she detected a hint of triumph in his expression as he inserted one finger slowly, then another. She was so wet she could barely feel them so she murmured “ more… ” and he complied, his other hand curled around her knee as he slowly fucked her with his fingers. Her toes flared and she stiffened, moaning with pleasure, her ass writhing beneath his skilled hand.
Then he disappeared from her sight as he removed his fingers and slowly licked her from perineum to sensitive bud, with just the tip of his tongue. It felt so good, so deliberate, as if he was truly savoring her, taking stock of the moment when she was finally allowing him to engage in this most intimate activity with her.
“Jesus, Mulder… ”
The mere thought of Mulder’s tongue between her legs was sensory overload, and she could feel her eyes rolling back into her head. She imagined him countless times in rental car after rental car, driving across the country, his jaw working overtime on his precious sunflower seeds. How many times she’d watched his mouth moving and hoped one day he’d use that mouth on her.
Her hands gripped the comforter and her toes began to curl again as he started working his magic. His tongue darted out as it moved within her and she could hear him panting, feel his hot breath on her, sensing his eagerness as he moaned. He kept lifting his eyes to watch her face, seeing what she responded to, learning and reacting in the moment the way a truly good lover does. She was thrilled by his diligence, although not surprised, and honestly wondered if Fox Mulder even needed to be any good to arouse her.
She might never know because he was good, very good. After only about a minute she was ready to come all over his face but she didn’t want him to stop, she never wanted this to end.
He gripped her thighs with his strong hands and parted her even wider. She raised her hips up involuntarily and with one hand she nearly ripped the bedding and the other gripped his scalp, pulling his hair.
“I love you, Scully...” he murmured, and she believed him. Never before had she believed something that escaped his lips so quickly, especially this, the most improbable utterance of them all.
He loves me, I can’t believe this. Mulder loves me. She couldn’t decide what she liked better; hearing “love” from his mouth or feeling it.
His hands were around her thighs, his thumbs parting her, and just as she thought she might black out he went in for her clit, circling it with his tongue like an electric mixer. She cried out in ecstasy and thought she might be floating off the bed when her orgasm hit her hard, and she came in waves, tidal waves that threatened to wash her away, hitting her over and over until they subsided and she lay prone like some kind of beached sea creature.
She breathed deeply, exhausted. She’d never come so hard in her entire life. She searched her memory for his name and momentarily forgot it.
“That…. fuck…” she couldn’t speak. Mulder. It suddenly came to her. Mulder.
“Mulder, that was… Jesus, you’re an artist.”
She saw his head lift up before her, grinning wickedly. “Well I appreciate that, Scully, but an artist is only as good as the canvas he’s working with.” He planted a couple kisses to her inner thighs as she brought her knees together and flipped over onto her side, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of an extremely long overdue Mulder-induced orgasm. He lay down next to her, pulling her into him like a little spoon, and softly traced a finger along her torso. It was heaven.
“Tell me, Mulder… when was it you fell in love?”
“That’s impossible to answer, Scully. I’ve fallen in love with you a thousand times at least.”
Her hand went to his head behind her, lazily combing through his hair. “A thousand is a finite number, Mulder. Not impossible. Certainly within the realm of possibility. So start talking.”
“Okay. Well for starters, the moment I met you,” he said.
"You already said that,” she pointed out. “I mean for real.”
He grinned and rolled her over onto her back, resting his chin on her tummy. “Well, that was real, but fine. Again when you defended me in front of that Colton guy. Then again when you saved me from that beast woman.”
She smiled, ruffling his hair. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He moved to feather her midriff with soft kisses. “Then when you were taken away from me, I knew. I could feel it in my gut, like some part of me was missing.”
He’d gone from being cute and sexy to utterly serious. But she wanted to hear it, she wanted to know these things.
“Then when you got sick.” He stopped kissing, as if he needed to take a moment. “I felt like I was dying, right there with you.”
She hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment with heavy shit. “Mulder, I’m here. We’re both alive.” She grinned. “Very much so.”
He seemed to snap out of whatever place he’d gone to in his mind. “And another hundred times after that, whenever you disagreed with me but followed me anyway.” He laved the curve of her breast with the flat of his tongue. “The countless times you saved my ass after I did something stupid.”
“Those times were indeed countless,” she agreed, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to contain a huge grin at the tickling sensations happening below.
“Whenever you roll your eyes at me.” He was speaking in the present tense now. He gently took a nipple into his mouth and sucked. She gasped and arched, thinking she could die this way, that some neighborhood watchdog creature could do them both in at this very moment and it would be absolutely fine with her. “Whenever you say my name,” he whispered.
“Oh... Mulder…” she obliged. It was the least she could do.
“Especially when you say it like that.” He moved to her other breast and paid it the same amount of attention. It was so Mulder, for him to parlay his obsessive, attentive nature into their lovemaking. And how he’d probably be willing to do it this way again and again. She felt infinitely grateful for their bravery.
“A thousand times, Scully, but most recently when we did this.” He propped himself on his forearms and hovered over her, leaning down to press his lips to hers once more. Her hand went to the back of his neck, threading into the soft hairs at his nape and she lived inside the kiss she’d been waiting so long for. This, right now, was absolutely everything.
He dropped his pelvis against her and she could feel his desire pressed against her, thick and pulsating.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Scully?” he whispered into her ear. She nodded, her cheek against his. She could feel his scratchy stubble and she instantly understood his ‘thousand times’ response as she fell in love with him one more time.
“I want you now, Mulder,” she breathed. “Right now.”
Her words cut straight to his heart, his soul. He’d wanted to hear them for years, wanted Scully to want him in this way for as long as he could remember and now it was actually happening.
He leaned back a bit to look into her eyes, those beautiful aquamarine orbs that held fathoms of mystery, mysteries that he could perhaps now begin to solve with her instead of just admiring them from the sidelines.
They’d shared so many looks between them they’d formulated their own language by now, and he could see in her eyes she could not wait any longer. He was about to explode himself so he nodded, and his eyes never leaving hers, situated himself at her entrance.
He pushed into her slowly, inch by inch, and as they made this final contact, this last step, his only thought was that he hoped he could endeavor to deserve this, to deserve her, until his dying breath. That he wouldn’t trade this moment for a hundred UFOs, a thousand mysterious creatures, and certainly not for any X File that ever crossed his desk.
He felt surrounded by her warmth as he was finally buried inside her so completely his head began to spin. She raised her hips up to accommodate him fully and when he could go no further she cried out softly.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked quickly.
“No… it’s perfect. This is perfect.” He looked into her eyes and believed her. “Hold still for a sec, this… I need to process this moment,” she said, breathing heavily.
“Hey, Mulder?” she said after a second.
“We’re having sex.”
He laughed and cradled her head in his hands, kissing her forehead. It was so unlike them to put anything out there so bluntly, it felt oddly liberating.
“Yes, we are,” he said proudly.
“This is really happening.”
He moved down to press a kiss to her lips. “This is as real as it gets, Scully.” He locked eyes with her again and realized she was right, he needed to process this moment as well. Here they were, as one. Partners. In every sense of the word, now.
“You ready?” he asked.
She smirked, that eyebrow he was so fond of lifting once again. “Let’s get it on, honey.”
He withdrew from her almost all the way, then plunged back inside, slowly at first but he was spurred on by her moaning. His desire for her only grew with each thrust, and she’d been right; this didn’t feel real. Maybe they were in a parallel dimension, or they’d become shapeshifters of some kind. Maybe they were each other’s evil twins. He could think of a million excuses for how he could possibly be making love to Scully in this moment and the least likely, the most outlandish explanation of all was that she was really here, that she really loved him and this was finally actually happening.
He reached down between them to play with her clit, determined to make her come again before he finished. She wrapped her legs around him and arched, gasping, moaning ohmygodyes and pleasemulder and moremoremore.
She clung to his back desperately, scratching between his shoulder blades, leaving marks that claimed him as hers. And he was hers. He wanted to give her everything, all of him, whatever she wanted.
“Flip over,” she suddenly commanded. Losing her warmth for even a second was torture but he obeyed. He would do whatever the fuck she asked of him. She pushed him backwards until he was sitting with his back to the headboard. “I want to go deeper,” she explained, and the words nearly made him come right then and there.
“You’re killing me, Scully.”
“That’s the idea.”
She hoisted herself on top of him, grasping his cock in her hand and giving it a few considerate strokes to alleviate the awful pressure he was experiencing. Then she positioned him underneath her and slid down, even further than before.
“Jesus, fuck, Mulder, you’re... big,” she gasped. “God, that’s so good.” She closed her eyes and he could tell he was filling her absolutely, utterly and completely. Her mouth opened, slack, and she started making noises he’d imagined only in his dreams.
“You feel amazing,” he groaned, in utter disbelief he’d lasted this long, as she rose up onto her knees and began gyrating and pumping, gripping the top of the headboard behind him. His hands were free to roam wherever he pleased, so he grabbed her ass and squeezed as she bounced, her breasts waving eagerly in his face. He leaned forward and indulged, every so often nipping her, gently at first but quickly learning she liked it. He bit her harder and she responded by grabbing two fistfuls of his hair and pulling.
He moved one finger down to circle her clit and before long she began to crest again, her face registering a variety of expressions he was quickly learning to identify.
It was his name, sure, but it was coming from a place of primal sincerity, and may as well have been a mating call. He never wanted to stop hearing that sound, stop seeing that face, but she eventually came back down to earth and relaxed into him, chest pressed against chest, sweat dripping down them both.
She touched his face in silent gratitude and took a few moments to catch her breath before pulling him down on top of her and urging him to continue. Having made her come twice, he felt better about letting himself go, and he kept pumping into her, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he saw stars, truth, everything he knew he would from the moment she allowed him inside her. And he wasn’t wrong; only moments later his body seized as he cried out his own release, spilling his warmth inside her. He didn’t want to crush her but she pulled him down and he fell on top of her.
“ScullyScullyScully…” he whispered, exhausted and completely satisfied.
She wrapped her legs around him, clearly enjoying his weight on top of her, but his elemental desire to keep her from any harm compelled him to roll her over until she was laying on top of him like a nesting doll.
“That was amazing,” he said.
“It really was.”
He loved it when they agreed.
They were still joined and after a few moments he could feel himself beginning to slip out of her but she gripped him with her thighs, holding firm.
“Hold me like this,” she said softly. “Don’t let go.”
He kissed her brow, wiping the sweaty tendrils of hair out of her eyes. “I won’t.”
After what felt like several minutes, their breathing had calmed, their heart rates slowed. And his mind drifted away, far away, back to D.C., back to the basement office. Back to the work. It didn’t even have to go that far; they still had this case to solve. In the morning the excavation crew would arrive and things would go back to normal.
“Hey, Mulder?” she suddenly asked gently, and the deep-seated fear within him reared its ugly head. The truth was, he was terrified she might want to go back to normal. Back to the way things were before, the way they were used to. It wouldn’t be unusual or unlike her. He could hardly believe her walls had come down tonight at all.
She seemed to choose her words carefully. “When we wake up in the morning, who will we be?”
He was relieved she was worrying about the very same thing he was. Would they just be themselves, free from all of their restraint and longing? Would they be Rob and Laura Petrie? Or would they be the Mulder and Scully that arrived here, still hiding from each other, still denying their feelings?
“Who do you want us to be?” he asked softly.
She thought for a moment. “I want to be me, Mulder. But the version of me that lets myself love you.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing? Not letting yourself love me?”
She twirled a finger around wisps of his chest hair. His heart beat in time with hers. This felt safe and inexplicably familiar. Perfect.
“I guess... I’ve been pretending not to love you,” she said. “And as I’ve learned this week, pretending can be exhausting. I don’t want to pretend anymore, not with you.”
He rubbed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Well, we don’t have to.”
“Is that what you want?”
He was as tired as she was. He didn’t want to pretend, either. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” he answered with conviction. “You are exactly what I want, Scully.”
She sighed contentedly. It was the best sound he’d ever heard. It felt as if they’d finally solved their biggest X File ever.
“Will you sleep in here with me tonight?” she asked.
His cup runneth over. He rubbed her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head. He’d never sleep on a couch again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mulder,” she said again, after a minute.
“Did you really walk in on me changing all those times by accident?”
He laughed, remembering. They’d come to a place that was new, but real. Genuinely them. He didn’t want to go back.
“I won’t pretend, Scully," he admitted. "It was an accident almost every time.”