IWTB will always be my Achilles Heel. I will never stop thinking about this scene. There is some original dialogue.
Prompt 8, Give me that before anything happens
"Now I can't sleep."
Mulder threw the heavy blanket off his body and stepped out of bed. Barechested with just his flimsy boxer briefs on.
"Mulder?" Scully questioned. His sudden absence left her instantly missing his warmth and strong embrace. She watched him as he marched toward the bathroom with determination. He turned the bathroom lights on, then reached for his shaving cream and razor. Scully followed him; he was running through the case out loud to her. She hadn't seen him this hyped up in a long time.
Well, not since they left the FBI and Mulder went into seclusion. She hated that he didn't get a fair shake; he deserved more than hiding away in his home office. His brilliant mind was wasting away. She was worried about what this case might do to him. Of course, she didn't know that when she pushed him to take it. She wished it was another case. But she couldn't have it both ways.
This, was what he loved doing.
He had already lathered his face with shaving cream when she answered her ringing cellphone. Scully's attention split between the phone call and Mulder. It was the FBI. Whitney on the other end (the sound of her voice instantly pissed Scully off) Relay a message to Mulder. Let him know they had a new development in the case.
Maybe it would be over, Scully thought to herself.
She watched Mulder fill up the bathroom sink with water. He leaned forward. "They find her?" he asked. His eyes fixed on her through the mirror.
Scully held her hand up, signaling him to 'wait'. He huffed impatiently and leaned in closer to her.
His chest grazed her hand and her tummy flipped.
"Same source?" She asked Whitney as Mulder prepared to shave. The agent on the other end confirmed Scully's fears—same source, but new developments.
Another hit from the so-called psychic pedefile priest (a ridiculous notion).
She rolled her eyes and sighed into the receiver before she hung up. Mulder looked at her with a look of anticipation. She knew they had to go. For him, for the victims.
But mostly, she wanted to go for him. A light shade of maroon took over her cheeks at the thought of Mulder being excited again.
She held out her hand and he tilted his head in confusion at her gesture. "Give me that before anything happens to that handsome face of yours," she said, eyeballing the razor in his hand.
"Ohhhh, you think I'm handsome?" Gravel in his voice.
He handed her the razor, letting his touch linger just long enough for her body to betray her. The space between her legs already wet. She silently cursed herself at how easily he could get to her.
Mulder turned around and leaned against the bathroom sink, resting his hips on the ledge. He braced himself with his palms. His strong arms flexed at the weight as he spread his legs slightly, granting Scully access to his space.
God help her; she loved this man so much.
She leaned against his chest as she carefully shaved his beard, occasionally moving behind him to dip the razor in the sink filled with water. Her strokes were slow and steady on his face.
The amount of trust Mulder had in her was evident. He never flinched or moved, even when she accidentally nicked him.
"Sorry," she said apologetically. But he only grunted in return. Her body tingled at his response.
"Look up," she instructed him, barely getting the words out. Mulder instinctively grasped her hips in his hands, allowing her to steady herself against him as she guided the razor down his jawline. Mulder's body radiated heat and he was visibly aroused as she pressed her thigh against his hard dick.
She felt unsteady and clung to his arm for support. Scully set down the razor and leaned against his chest. Her breath was heavy as she watched shaving cream and water remnants drip down his torso.
She pressed her lips into his skin. "There. All done," she whispered. It was all she could muster. She felt light-headed, drunk even. He had that effect on her.
Mulder stood up right, and she stepped slightly away from his body. He took her face in his hands, and she saw a hunger in his eyes she had not seen in a long time. She held her breath as a clean-shaven Fox Mulder stood before her. Every part of him– intoxicating.
His scent.
His body.
His voice.
His mind.
"I'm not going unless you go with me, Scully." His eyes were fixed on her and his voice was low and charged.
She had no choice. Scully nodded and tipped her chin up. A long-standing invitation, a silent offering to him—her eyes beseeching him to take her.
Mulder leaned down to meet her lips with his. His kiss was hard and sloppy; passionate. She opened her mouth, granting his tongue access. He kissed her like the past, like he was searching for the truth again.
Her body was on fire when he picked her up and carried her to the bed. She'd give him every bit of her until there was nothing left to give.
Her body.
Her mind.
Her life.