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“Where did you have sex for the first time?” She inquired, staring listlessly out the passenger window.
‘Twenty questions’ had evolved significantly over their years together on the road. In truth, you could only ask a handful of innocuous questions before treading into truly fun terrain. Over their six years together, they’d detailed everything from dental horror stories, to childhood crushes, to scarring familial events of both the slumber party variety and the more grave.
In their time together, playing this game, Mulder had learned that Scully’s favorite color as a little girl had been purple, but she’d “changed it” to forest green so her brothers wouldn’t consider her “too girly” to rough house and keep up. He’d also learned that after she saw Melissa get a cavity filled in eighth grade, she’d become obsessed with dental care out of fear of the drill. When pressed if it was the pain that scared her, Scully admitted it wasn’t about the anticipation of pain. It was the sound, she insisted, buzzing away in her head, that put her off. Visible goosebumps spread over her arms as she explained herself. The idea of that thing hollowing out a crater in her tooth, buzzing angrily and echoing in her cranium, made her viscerally upset. Mulder nodded, immediately and completely understanding. Somewhere between BumfuckNowehere, Idaho, and MoreNowhere, Washington, she’d told him about how as a high schooler she’d heard her parents having sex. She’d reasoned they believed no one was home. In their defense, Scully had arrived home an hour and a half early from some club meeting. It’d been a herculean feat to pretend she’d heard nothing at all while they all enjoyed a pleasant dinner not even two hours later. That day was one of the first times she’d understood her parents as people in their own right, meaning they were sexual beings with urges just like anyone else. Scully explained that it had been mortifying to hear her mother orgasm, unabashed and loud, while being showered in a colorful variety of pet names by her usually stoic father. Simultaneously, it was fascinating in a psycho-sociological way as she compared what she had heard and what she knew about them as people. Nevertheless, it had been extremely difficult to look either parent in the eye for about a fortnight. And, Scully had finished the story with a sad smile, it had made her a little envious. In the years following, she’d learned that having a partner deeply invested in one’s pleasure was a rare thing. Her father, whatever he had been doing, had been completely devoted to her mother’s experience, her desire. At a further remove, it’d made Scully deeply aware of how uneven sexual experience could be. Something in how she said it had made Mulder equally sad, equally enraged on her behalf.
In Utah, Mulder had told Scully about wetting his pants during cross country in high school, playing it off as some seriously major sweat in the unseasonably high September heat. He’d been running that final few miles when he’d lost control of his bladder. Only his good friend, Rob, had known that it’d been piss. Rob had helped cover for the casualty by “accidentally” spilling an entire bottle of water on Mulder’s crotch. Scully had clutched her ribs from restrained giggles on that score. On another occasion, Mulder had regaled her with the details of a desperate crush he had on a graduate student while he was at Oxford. She’d never given him a chance, but he continued to politely ask her out every once in a blue moon. At Scully’s perturbed look, he insisted that in his endeavor for a date, he had always been respectful. It was only after he saw her making out with another woman at a pub that he understood he had about a snowball’s chance in hell of getting with her. When Scully gave him a sympathetic smile, he told her it didn’t stop him from having a powerful crush. With a particularly smug expression, Scully told him that didn’t surprise her in the slightest. Driving through the endless expanse of soybean and cornfields in Iowa, Mulder had given her a detailed break-down of his first time getting drunk. Through tears of laughter, she’d been barely able to contain her amusement at his highly played-up description of discovering just what “whisky dick” did and did not do to one, and how it majorly got in the way of hooking up with Clara Bellwick at the English Literature Society meet-and-greet after party.
It was not lost on him that most of his stories somehow involved his dick. At first, it’d been sort of embarrassing. He had much more going on than what was in his pants. Yet, the particular way she looked at him as he told stories about his mishaps and youthful blunders was that of endearment and interest. She seldom divulged sexual information, unless she was distinctly separate from the content.
As they cruised through Indiana, and the sun began to rapidly set, he glanced at her sideways. She’d just finished up a story about being hopelessly lost in downtown San Diego as a teen, drunk and terrified that her mother would kill her once she got home. Drunk-teenage-Scully was a very rare occurrence, she told him, having taken her studies deathly seriously. It had been summer, though, and the fun felt permissible. Melissa, the one leading the charge on their drunken adventure, had stumbled into the back of some friend’s car with only the most delinquent of intentions. Scully had wandered off to let Melissa enjoy her car romp in peace, but she’d taken one too many turns and had confused herself. Much, much later in the evening Melissa had miraculously found her at a different bar, where Scully had been nursing a ginger ale and several glasses of water. Somehow, they’d gotten home without either parent finding out about their misbegotten adventure. Mass in the morning was absolutely wretched, and Melissa had thrown up in the bathroom both during and after the service, but they had managed to get by scot free.
Apparently, now she wanted to shift gears to discuss more errant, youthful desire- his, specifically.
“Where?” Mulder clarified.
“Yeah. Melissa had sex for the first time in a car. She loved having sex in the car. My first time was in a bed, thank God. What about you?” She sounded bored, but he knew feigned disinterest when he saw it. Especially with her.
“A car,” he wistfully replied. Not for the first time, he wished he had been privileged with knowing Melissa more. He felt like they could’ve been solid friends.
“Ah,” Scully shook her head, smiling. “How old were you?”
“Uh,” he squinted into the murky dark of the endless, blank road. “Maybe seventeen? I think? I may have still been sixteen. I just know it was in the car I had saved for all summer. I got it because the backseat was big enough for that kind of…uh…extracurricular activity.” That made Scully scoff.
“Oh my God, Mulder,” she chuckled.
“Privacy was a hot commodity,” he shrugged, refusing shame. She sighed, understanding.
“Was it with a girlfriend?” Scully inquired.
“Yeah,” he glanced at her. She was bemused by his youthful indulgence. “We’d been going steady for almost six months.” She rolled her eyes and mouthed the words going steady almost mockingly .
“Please tell me she had a good time,” Scully demanded.
“Definitely not as good as I had it, but I think we did okay. It was the first for both of us.”
“Did she come?” Scully asked with the plucky frankness and kicky smile that went along with double-digit hours in the car. They’d been holding out for a better hotel, but as they entered their eleventh hour on the road it was clear they’d need to stop soon. If her forthright question was any indication, Mulder figured they were entering dangerous territory. Sometimes they got… weird… with one another after particularly revealing stories. Or, rather, she got weird. When they got into this tricky terrain, the next day would yield Hyper-Reserved Scully . All vulnerable, supremely honest, and occasionally sexually charged, commentary would be revoked for a good long while to maintain some veneer of professionalism. “Please tell me she came.” The slight whine in her voice made Mulder cough, embarrassed to be aroused ever so slightly by the way her tone arched and stretched. Jesus, what he would do to hear her come.
“Wow, Scully.”
“What? It’s a fair question.”
“I-I don’t-.”
“You don’t know? Really?” She ribbed him, poking Mulder in the arm.
“No, no, no. Shush. No. No, I knew she didn’t,” he rushed, halting her with a laugh and a raised hand. She held her hands up in mock-defense, her lips a Cheshire grin when he glanced her way. “But we talked about it. She’d never orgasmed before. She, uh, wasn’t much for self-pleasure if you catch my drift. She wasn’t proficient at that particular skill until much later,” he reported, looking her way. She gave a knowing nod, and sighed.
“That’s rough, but common.”
“Were you proficient?”
“Pardon?”
“Proficient at self-pleasure at that age?” He asked unceremoniously, giving her a taste of her own medicine. She squirmed in her seat, and didn’t answer for a whole minute.
“Yes. I was.” Frank. Decisive. Only a smidgen of humor was in her voice. He grinned, eyes darting between her and the road. She seemed proud of herself, for sharing what she had. Proud, and definitely amused.
“Oh? Do tell,” he prompted, highly intrigued; scanning the random signs that dotted the highway for hotel branding of any kind. Her silence made him glance her way, worried he’d taken it too far. He was delighted to see her barely repressing an embarrassed smile, partly at what he was asking and also the urge to respond in kind. Her crooked Mulder, you’re not just crazy, you're crass expression was desperate to break through and laugh with him. He loved to goad her like this. He adored seeing her fight with the urge to try and shock him, to indulge him in such salacious details. She only hesitated out of fear of what the consequences for sharing may be.
“I am…far…too sober to divulge that information,” she decided, speaking slowly and then licking her lips.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” he stated. “There’s gotta be a hotel with a bar somewhere up ahead.”
“Jesus, Mulder,” she chuckled.
“Can’t blame a guy for his curiosity, Scully.”
“Just believe me when I say-.”
“That you are proficient at self-pleasure, yeah, we’ve established that,” he gestured between them. “I believe you. You’re a… curious soul.” A hearty laugh escaped her. He loved it when he could make her laugh from the belly, unselfconsciously. It sometimes made him sad that she only seemed able to really let go and laugh like that when they’d been bored to tears by endless miles on the road and had nothing on their plates but chatter. Yet, they enjoyed each other’s company without shame or guilt. He loved being in her orbit. He loved making her laugh.
He loved her, after all.
“Let’s put it this way,” Scully laughed, “I never relied on a boy to get me there.” The sultry lilt of her voice made him gulp audibly.
“Ever relied on a girl?” He asked, only half-serious and definitely half-hard at the idea of his scientific, exacting partner making herself orgasm during sex.
“Well,” she shrugged with a coy smile.
“Well?” He echoed, coughing. His knuckles flexed against the faux-leather of the wheel. He glanced her way. Naughty, tempting eyes met his, and she delicately shrugged again.
“Curious soul, Mulder.”
“Wow,” he whispered after a long moment, trying not to think too long about Scully with another woman. He filed it away for fantasy material when he was in the privacy of his own home. They were silent for a moment. Mulder decided to keep pushing his luck on the illustrious insight he was being granted to Dana Scully. “Ever have sex in the car?”
“Oh, of course,” she scoffed. “Wasn’t my first choice, but it happened.”
“Often?” He saw a sign for a hotel. Ten miles.
“Not often. Well…allow me to clarify, I didn’t have penetrative sex in a car,” she qualified without a shred of awkwardness. “I experienced many other things. But I didn’t have your teenage foresight of saving up for a car with a big back seat, Mulder. I think the car we had was designed to be a sex-deterrent, really. It was a cramped two-door sedan. Not sexy at all.”
“Ah, that’s just too bad,” he tsked, aware of how his lap had grown heavy with want. The idea of Scully doing anything sexual in a car was overwhelming to him. With her shorter stature, he could imagine a whole number of things that they could do in a car. Kissing her first was the top of his list, but there were many other things he longed to explore. “Didn’t indulge when you were older?” He asked playfully.
“You know, Mulder, no, I didn’t,” she laughed softly. “The beauty of paying for an apartment is that you get to keep a bed there, and that bed is really great for that particular activity.”
“Plenty of other surfaces that would be great for that, too,” he offered lightly, imagining her slung over her kitchen table. She gave his arm the most gentle shove.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I’m just pointing out opportunities.”
“You have a thing for car sex?” She inquired, teasing him.
“Who knows? Perhaps I do, revved engine and all that,” he replied, shooting Scully a devious grin. “It always felt sort of forbidden. We were doing something we shouldn't do in a place where we could get caught. Yet it was still so private. Sometimes it was like it hadn’t really happened. It was a secret, or maybe a fantasy, or maybe it wasn’t real. Something about that backseat in the nebulous dark, you know? Anything could happen.” Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead.
“Is that right?” Her tone distinctly shifted.
“Yeah,” he nodded. In the dark, it was hard to be certain, but she appeared to have a blush spreading across her cheeks. Something about her expression changed, a wall flying up, and she looked away. Shit. It’d been dangerous terrain. She’d be completely clammed up come the morrow, he knew that with certainty. No sex-talk in the car, even in jest, was guaranteed for long. Well. It’d been fun while it lasted. “There’s a hotel coming up,” he informed her neutrally, shifting gears to evade an immediate Scully-Shutdown.
“How long?”
“A couple miles.”
“Pull over.”
“Huh?” He looked back at her, surprised to see her staring at him with uncertainty and curiosity. “Something wrong?”
“Just pull over,” she said again, softly. He did as she requested, slowing down and getting onto the dusty shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, idling.
“Scully, I’m sorry if I took things too far, I was just trying to tease you a little.”
“Turn the car off,” she stated. He did as she asked. She opened the passenger door, stepping out into the fragrant night. Mulder remained frozen, simply watching her as she casually closed the door, and then opened the rear. Smoothly, and slowly, she slid into the back seat. The thump of the latch as it closed behind her was punctuated by her pointed gaze. “Want to join me?” Her head tilted to one side, curious and a bit afraid of his response.
It was an invitation.
He clambered out of the car, trying to be as fluid as she had been as he climbed into the backseat. His breath seemed too loud, just as the door being shut felt nearly violent in the quiet night.
“What happened to a bed?” He whispered, trying to make a joke out of his nervous energy. She offered him a raised eyebrow and a slight grin.
“I believe a bed is a few miles too far away, and far too real,” she responded. Her hand was shaking as she touched his cheek. “This is a secret. Or a fantasy. Or something that is maybe not real,” her expression and tone had become a stoic. “It’s just the dark backseat of a car.”
He marveled at her, absorbing and understanding the undercurrent of his words echoed back to him. If this ended poorly, or felt like a mistake, then perhaps it never happened. It was just a highway fever dream, some miles off from a hotel. Or, it was a memory; something remembered but never again indulged in.
They had never kissed before; bees, bureaucracy, and bullshit prevented so much between them. Once, many years ago, he had bared his soul to her on their first investigation together after she had bared her skin out of pure fear. Since then, all that was good in his life revolved around Scully. Her presence, her brains, her intoxicating beauty that was only heightened by her sharp wit.
Why this invitation was happening was sort of a moot point, he figured. Their banter and mutual yearning had simply generated an opportunity for invitation. Truth be told, he was shocked it was her pulling the trigger. That was so her, so Scully; down and ready to bend the rules with him. Especially in the dark. Especially in the car on a very long ride to God knows where.
“Of course,” he nodded, understanding the gravity of her invitation. He wouldn’t waste it.
“Mulder,” she began, trying to figure out how to share her thoughts. He waited as her trembling fingers traced his jawline. “Would you…w-would you kiss me?” She stared at his chest, unable to conceal some awakening nervousness at the request.
“Just kiss?” He qualified softly, lifting her chin so that they could make eye contact. Wet, wide eyes transfigured back to levity, to an easy teasing that, while laced with uncertainty, was thrilled by him.
“You know more about what happens in the backseat of a car than I do, Mulder. I’ll follow your lead.”
His hands wove through her hair as he opted for adolescent urgency, lips landing on hers with a fever. The moan that escaped her throat was answered by a groan of his own. Urgent hands yanked on his lapels, pulling him closer. She tasted like coffee and something so distinctly her, he was overwhelmed. Their tongues fought for dominance as he drank her down, swallowing her perfect little sounds like mana. Her hips wiggled slowly, surely, as her thighs clenched. He lost his suit coat, and she yanked off her sweater, leaving her in a pretty, dark green tank top. Black bra straps with fine lace peeking out the top of the shirt made him dizzy. Unknotting his tie slowly, she gripped it like a leash, using it to encourage even tighter proximity. Dimly, he was aware that the glass was fogging up. His hands landed on the planes of her back, her sides, finally her breasts. A kittenish, lusty sound escaped her as he caught her nipple through many layers of fabric, giving it a slow, hard pinch. The urgent wiggle of her hips against the seat made him eager and desperate to feel how she was fairing between the legs. Mulder wanted to feel her drenched and swollen.
Impatient, he grabbed at one of her thighs, trying to get her onto his lap. Immediately understanding his intention, she tugged the material of her skirt up around her hips to straddle him. Instinctually, he put a hand on top of her head, worried that she’d collide with the roof of the vehicle.
“Whoa there,” he whispered. He vividly remembered his high school girlfriend clocking herself, ruining the mood entirely. His knuckles grazed the cream fabric as she got settled in his lap.
“Sorry,” she hummed into his lips, disinterested entirely in her near collision with the hard surface. With a confidence that left him whimpering, she ground herself into his lap. Unmistakable was his hard-on. Through the thin material of his slacks, she could feel every inch, just as surely as he felt her the heat radiating out between her legs. “Jesus, Mulder,” her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she breathed heavily against his mouth. Carefully, he wedged his hand between them, sliding it between her damp thighs. He felt slickness well down her legs before he felt the core of her pelvis, a delicious and unmistakable smear. Her breath caught as Mulder’s fingertips grazed soaked cotton.
Surely, this wasn’t a fantasy.
Surely this was real.
Without trepidation, Mulder stroked Scully over her panties. He kissed her tenderly as she trembled in his arms, her hands weaving into his hair as she bucked into his hand. He had somehow never imagined her het up in his lap like this, shaking with need and unabashedly seeking release. He’d imagined her many other ways, and somewhat like this on his couch or in a bed. Never in a rental car, in the middle of nowhere. Never with such urgency, as if afraid a spell might break, or that something would end their union.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, her forehead pressed into his as she pushed her core into the cradle of his hand.
“I want to touch under your panties,” he implored.
“Please,” she nodded feverishly. With one finger, he pulled the damp gusset to the side, and then slipped his middle and ring finger inside of her. He moaned even louder than she did, desperate not to lose it in his pants. He was so hard, it hurt. The wetness was audible as he fingered her, loving the slurp of Scully’s cunt as he used his other hand to lift her by an ass cheek. “Mulder, oh my God,” her voice had descended into a needy, thready whisper. She ground down against the heel of his palm. “Oh,” a shudder wracked her body. Scully collapsed against his chest, riding his fingers. Blindly, with one hand still tangled in his locks, the other desperately grabbed at his belt. “I want you,” she confessed, moaning as her clit mashed into his hand. “God, I want you so badly.”
“Yeah?”
“I need you inside me,” she affirmed, yanking his belt open, lacing her fingers behind the leather and unbuttoning his pants. “I…I’ve always been curious. I need to know.” A whimper of his own escaped him as she cupped him over his boxers. “I need you, Mulder.” He took his fingers out of her weeping slit just long enough to wriggle his pants halfway down his thighs. She stood on her knees, desperately kissing him. When his cock was free from his pants, she stared down at it, analyzing it as a woman on a mission. “God, you’re so big.” He was already slick with pre-cum. “God, Mulder,” Scully praised, touching him slowly, purposefully. Delicately her hand dove between her thighs, gathering her own arousal. She coated him with it, smiling coquettishly as she did so.
“It’s been a while, Scully. I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” he confessed, his voice thin. Just her gentle touch was making his balls jolt. She lined them up, smiling sweetly at him.
“That’s okay, Mulder. I’m not worried.” Their eyes were locked on one another as she slowly descended on him. He watched her register a glorious stretch, loving how her mouth fell open as she took him all the way. Perfect, wide blue eyes rolled back into her head as she settled in his lap. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispered. So rare, a curse like that on her lips. Mulder remained still, holding her tight, as she adjusted to the loving invasion of her body. The muscles of her core fluttered around him. She was so tight, he could hardly breathe.
How would he ever move forward, knowing her like this, and pretend it was anything but life-altering? Life-affirming?
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. A soft laugh escaped her as she struggled to take a deep breath. Mulder’s hands dove under her shirt at her back, and he pulled her tighter against him as he slumped a bit for a better angle. Giving a tentative, slow thrust, he smiled at the whimper Scully let out.
“Mulder,” her nails gripped his shirt desperately. He thrust again, and she whimpered more. “Jesus, you’re so big, I can barely take it,” she confessed, seeming to surprise herself by admitting it aloud. Even in the dark, Scully’s cheeks glowed bright pink. God, he loved her. Giving another thrust of his hips, he cupped her cheek and kissed her soundly.
“You can,” he encouraged, breathing against her lips. “You can take it.” She was so tight, it made him moan pathetically. He buried his face into Scully’s neck and rutted inside her rhythmically, loving the sloppy heat of her. “God, you’re perfect.” She whimpered desperately into his ear, clinging to him. Her hips gained a counter rhythm, and his brain began to short circuit. Her entire body was a hot, shaking live wire against him. “Lean back so I can see you,” he insisted, holding her by the hips. Scully obliged him, planting her hands on his knees and craning backwards to use all the space available to them in such cramped quarters. Bracing most of her weight on her knees, she held herself ever so slightly aloft to grant him room to thrust. When Mulder analyzed her face as she adjusted to the new angle, it was deliciously naughty, and maybe just a little shy. There was also something wonderfully youthful in her expression; the delight of doing something naughty and forbidden in the back of a car with a boy she liked. It was rebellious and touching. It was determined, proud, and loyal: they were in this together.
Her expression revealed so many aspects of who he knew her to be, it almost made Mulder want to cry. It was his Scully; how she’d always been, how she always was, especially when they were together.
Turning his attention so he wouldn't tear up, Mulder’s eyes honed in on the place where they were connected. Without much forethought, he licked his thumb and began slow, methodical circles around Scully’s strawberry pink clit. The guttural moan that escaped her had his gaze immediately reaffixed to her face. How she balanced her weight shifted as she laid heavily across the center console, panting as he circled his thumb and thrust slowly inside of her. The squelch of wetness and her fragrant, delicious aroma was filling the car. Their secret, their fantasy, whatever this was, was a richly perfumed space that he never wanted to leave.
“Oh my God,” she managed thickly. He felt Scully desperately contract around him.
“So beautiful, baby,” he whispered, watching her writhe. “You are so, so beautiful.” He wished he had something else to say, something more erotic or charged or clever, but this hadn’t been planned. As talkative as Mulder could be, illustrative and verbose in all other realms, here he was struck dumb and simple by Scully’s pleasure.
“I’m gonna come,” she whined, her fist braced against her mouth as her chest heaved. He felt her spasm again around his cock.
“Can you come more than once?” He began swirling her sensitive clit marginally faster, moving only ever so slightly quicker inside of her.
“Yes,” she cried, either to his question or to what he was doing to her. Perhaps both.
“Do you like how I’m playing with this pretty cunt of yours?” He asked, his voice low and laden with a molten arousal. He willed his over-excited brain to stitch together anything at all for her, feeling how much she liked it when he talked.
“Yes,” Scully whimpered, her back arching. Mulder smiled at her, reveling in her beauty. He could see her nipples poking through the top of her bra, through the thin material of her shirt. God, he was about to bear witness to a religious event: Dana Scully orgasming on his cock.
“I’m gonna make you come more than once,” he huffed, desperately trying to stave off his own crest. The way she looked at him nearly sent Mulder over. All beautiful want and desire, desperate to be released. When he licked his lips, he felt her spasm around him again; thunder before a storm. “Scully-.”
“I want your mouth,” she told him, voice high and thin. “Later. Sometime soon. I want to know what that mouth can do.” He grinned at her, not necessarily surprised by her candor but definitely delighted by it. “When you-,” he licked his lips again and she purposefully squeezed Mulder’s cock with her muscles in retaliation. The gasp it elicited made her smile wide. “When you lick your lips, eat sunflowers, all I can think about is you…you using them on me.” Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, and she grew impossibly tight. Scully’s expression collapsed a little, as if in pain, as she began to rock against him desperately. “God, I want your mouth.”
“I’ll eat you out whenever you want,” he promised. The little choked sound that escaped Scully’s throat preceded the vice grip that surrounded Mulder’s cock. Her head fell back as her entire body went rigid, fingernails digging into where they were braced against his knees, against the seat cushion. Some attempt was made at stifling the moan that dropped from her lips, and then she let herself fall apart entirely. Mulder didn’t stop touching her clit as he kept a steady pace for her. Her heaving chest, her beautiful reddened skin; all so intoxicating and perfect. “Yes, yes, yes,” he found himself encouraging her, thrusting almost erratically.
Finally, after agonizing spasms around his member, she batted his hand away. They sat in silence as she caught her breath, one hand on her chest. Mulder looked between where they were joined, at the beautiful wetness that still glistened in the near dark, and her rising and falling ribcage. Eventually, Scully sat up and stared at him; gorgeously ruffled.
“You know something, Mulder?” Her voice wavered.
“Hm?”
“You are truly a marvel.” Slowly, she encircled his shoulders with her arms. Big blue eyes danced across his face as Scully drew close, resting her chest against his. A tentative kiss was administered to his lips, and then the heat began to stir once more. Soft kisses became slanting, desirous attempts to consume the other. His hips began moving inside of her again, and the whimpering, mewling sounds he’d been graced with re-emerged.
“Jesus, I love the way you sound. The way you smell,” he moaned into her neck. She clawed at his shoulders, at his hair, as she began to find a rhythm with him once more. “I love seeing you like this,” he muttered into her jaw, placing a messy kiss there. “Thank you,” he whispered wholeheartedly, lovingly.
“Don’t get sappy on me, Mulder,” she chuckled, grinding down into him.
“I can’t help it,” he responded with a light laugh of his own. “I like you too much.” At that, she paused her ceaseless movement, and regained his gaze. Holding his face between her hands, she held his entire soul. He trusted her with it, explicitly.
“I know,” she whispered, kissing him. “I know. And I feel the same.” He picked up her subtext. You can tell me. We can talk about it. But maybe later. Not now. Let’s enjoy this moment for what it is. “Make me come, Mulder,” she requested earnestly.
With renewed vigor, he began thrusting up into her; the wet slap of the impact made him moan. Lewdly, she bounced in his lap under the force. Scully snuck a hand between them and desperately rubbed her own clit as they hastened towards their finish. When her hand began losing its rhythm, he replaced it with his own. The sob that left Scully’s throat was accompanied by a glorious shudder through her whole frame.
“You can always rely on me to get you there,” he whispered, thrusting urgently. “Come on my cock, Scully. I’m almost there. I need to feel you, baby.” A high, delicate sound escaped her mouth as he felt her cunt strangle him. She tipped over the edge, breathing heavily, and he went with her. Sweet, desperate moans tumbled from her lips as she felt him pour into her, her walls contracting rhythmically around his penis. His thumb hitched disjointedly against her clit, a stammer in the rhythm from the power of his own orgasm.
A vehicle’s headlights momentarily blinded them, a loud chug-chug-chug as it flew past the parked sedan and careened down the road.
Their breathing seemed too loud, suddenly. The windows granted no information beyond their little world; so densely fogged Mulder felt a pang of shame. Scully grew tense in his arms. For a moment, they were frozen, stunned by the abrupt end of the fantasy. As their breathing grew less ragged, the reality of what they’d done began to settle over them both. She slowly slid from his lap. Quietly, and steadily, they tucked themselves away. He was afraid to open the door, afraid to break the fantasy in full. But then she opened up her side to better adjust her skirt in a standing position, and he did the same for his pants and belt. He tucked in his shirt.
Ever in sync, they slid into the front seats and shut the doors. The windows were still fogged over from their intimate exchange. Scully flipped the visor mirror down to check her make-up. Mulder cleared his throat, his hands on the key in the ignition. He felt compelled to say something.
“So…was…was that a secret? Or a fantasy? Or…or not real?” Why did his voice seem so unnaturally loud after what they’d done? It was barely above a breath, but it all seemed too much. Mulder couldn’t bring himself to look at her. It came crashing down like an anvil how real it was for him. Undeniably tender and real. Real and so significant, he felt choked by it. He loved her so profoundly, and he had known that before he’d known her carnally. How could he ever deny that, or pretend to not know her so fully?
Warm fingers touched the side of his face, encouraging him to turn. Her expression was steady; it was serious, loving, and incredibly kind. Nervous, too. She was just as afraid as him.
“It felt very real to me,” she managed, her voice just as low in volume. “And like a very important secret.” He nodded, feeling acute relief. In kind, he touched her cheek, hoping she saw in his eyes how much she meant to him.
“Sleep with me tonight. At the hotel,” he requested, surprising even himself. Her eyes went momentarily wide. “I showed you the mysterious backseat. You can show me the virtues of a bed.” A soft smile emerged on her face.
“Yeah, alright,” she touched his cheek again, so pretty and content to simply stare. “I can do that.”
“I…I want you to know that this means more to me than-.”
“I know,” she put her fingers to his lips. “I know, Mulder.” Scully stretched across the console and kissed him soundly. “Let’s get to a hotel.”
He turned the car on, grinning like a fool. The engine growled as they barreled down the highway.