A/N:
Title: Circumstances
Category: X-Files (MSR)
Summary: A loving moment in horrible circumstances. I know it's pretty vague, but I think you'd better just read it and draw your own conclusions.
Rating: NC-17. Strong sexual descriptions. No young ones, please!
Spoilers: No spoilers.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
Thank you so much for feedback. It soothes my soul. :) It is always welcome, in any form.
She never honestly thought this was the way they would make love for the very first time. But, then again, this was more than making love. This was the culmination of a wonderful, frustrating, respectful, tragic partnership.
"Scully," he said, his voice rough. He turned to her and placed his hand on her stomach and she could feel the heat through the thin silk of her gown, the one item she had to sleep in. She'd looked at him, and when he leaned in to kiss her, she met him halfway and kissed him back.
It hadn't been very steamy or romantic. He rolled over on top of her body and moved her legs open with his. His kisses were deep, his tongue running along hers urgently. Despite their situation, she felt herself flood with wetness.
In the still quiet of their concrete room, he pushed her gown over her hips and managed to get out of his shorts. She didn't wear underwear for the simple fact that she only had a few pairs and they were having a hard time drying in the damp air of the room.
Her eyes closed the moment he held his hard cock to her entrance. Instead of pushing in right away, like she thought he would, he rubbed it back and forth over her, so it stroked her clit in an incredible way. She bit her lip so as not to make a noise, but did arch her body toward him.
He laid his body on hers, holding his partial weight up with an arm by her head. She felt his breath hot in her ear and he prepared to enter her. She was tight, they both felt it, and she took deep breaths to will her body to relax. She was nervous, having dreamed of this moment for so long with this man, and she was already anxious because of their situation, plus it had just been so damn long. She held her hands loosely on his bare hips, fighting the desire to dig her fingers into the soft flesh of his behind.
He was slow and careful as he entered her, and she could tell he was holding back because of the way his body shook with restraint. She appreciated it, the slowness allowing her body to adjust. She had never seen him erect, but he was obviously more than adequately equipped in that area. She regretted not being able to enjoy it more thoroughly. It upset her that they weren't given the chance to savour this as they should. One more thing to be angry about.
When he was in all the way, his body pressed tightly against hers, he groaned, and she let out a sigh. It was a little uncomfortable, but it felt very good at the same time. Her hands squeezed his sides and felt too much bone and too little fat.
He began to move, and he was much taller than her even in this position, cradled between her legs. Her mouth grazed his neck and her hair stirred with his breath.
He was moving into her steadily, rocking her body with every thrust. She loved it, despite the circumstances, she couldn't deny that. Even the look of him, sweaty and panting above her, grunting and grimacing with every deep thrust turned her on and made her heart pound even harder with love for him.
She was in love with him. Deeply so. That was what hurt her the most. There was one lesson she'd learned in her life as a navy brat, and that was to never love something or someone that could be taken away. She never had close friends or boyfriends, she never even had a pet. She loved her brothers and sisters, her mother and father, and that was it.
Here, Mulder could be taken at any time.
She didn't want to hold him, but what he was doing felt so good. She felt overwhelmed with the desire to pull him to her, to press him against her breasts and feel his heart beat against hers. She wanted to connect with him on an emotional level, not just physically. She needed it all.
"I want to make this good for you," he was whispering to her. "Tell me how to make this good for you."
She sighed, his words sending an electric shock through her. He spoke again, his breath wet in her ear.
"Tell me what to do, Scully. I want you to feel good."
"Push deeper," she breathed. "Kiss me."
He did just as she asked. He spread his legs wider, pushing hers open further, and with each stroke he went in as deep as he could. His hand cupped her face as he bent and kissed her, slow, sweet, sloppy kisses that mixed with their moans and sighs.
She couldn't stop herself. She wrapped her arms around him and held him to her. She stroked along his sweaty back, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moved. She kissed him back with everything she had in her. She gave him her heart.
Her orgasm surprised her, both in timing and intensity. Her nails dug into his back and she bit his shoulder as her body tensed and shuddered in release. Everything tingled, including her brain. She must have lost her senses because before she knew it he was groaning in her ear, her name coming through his clenched teeth, and she felt him flood inside her.
When it was over, he lay collapsed on her, both of them hot in the stifling room and panting in the musty air. She hoped no one had heard anything. They were as quiet as they could possibly be.
He lifted his head after many long moments, and kissed her again. He cupped her face and held her gaze.
"I'll get you out of here," he said, his voice low and serious. "I promise, Scully, I'll get you out of here safely."
He slipped out of her and moved to her side on the small cot. She turned so they were spooned together, and she practically held her breath until she heard his soft snores of sleep.
She cried then, because she knew that when he said he would get her out, he would. And she knew that he wouldn't be coming with her. This was more than making love. This was goodbye.