Cream of the Crop Circles by Aloysia Virgata SUMMARY: I hated that duvet. Ruining it satisfied me on many levels. DISTRIBUTION/FEEDBACK: aloysia.virgata@yahoo.com RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: IWTB DISCLAIMER: The usual. Chris Carter, 1013, I wanted them to have something beyond forehead sex and angst. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Originally posted at xf_pornbattle for the prompts Mulder/Scully, call me Fox, we ruined the duvet. It's silly and fluffy and I thank innisfree for being cool with the title. **** Scully leans back against the headboard, scanning charts and eating from a pint of Half-Baked while Mulder works his way through a can of Reddi Wip. He props himself up on one elbow. "Please." "No." "It'll be worth your while." "No." "Just the lab coat, then." She gives him a stern look, the effect tempered by her open shirt and bare legs. "You're a very sick man." He winks, then opens his mouth and fills it with aerosol dairy product. She shakes her head and chews on a blob of frozen cookie dough, eyes glazed after reading her own scribbly handwriting for too long. Mulder sprays Reddi Wip on her knee and licks it off. "I can't help it. It's hot. I'm aroused by your brain." "You're like a perverted zombie." He bites her calf. "Nom nom nom." He takes the can and makes a delicate rosette on her thigh. "Watch it, Mulder. I'm warning you not to get anything on this duvet. Cream is not going to come out of silk shantung." His interest is piqued. "Really? Are you sure?" "Ruin it and I hurt you." Mulder empties a pile of whipped cream onto the bed. Scully looks at him in horror and snatches the can. "Oh no," he says flatly. "What have I done?" He scoops some up and smears it over her collarbones. She stares, open-mouthed, and he takes the opportunity to grab the carton from her hand. Scully moves her charts to the night table, watching him hold an oversized spoonful of melty goo over her chest. "Mulder, don't." He tips it forward slightly and she flinches. "I'm serious. Fox Mulder, don't you d-" She hisses as the ice cream hits her. "Too late," he says. "I already did. And don't call me Fox." They watch the ice cream run thickly down her body until it is halted by her underwear. Mulder kisses her knee again. Scully strokes his rough cheek as he licks his way up her thigh, his tongue trailing against the inside of her leg and across her hipbone. It dips briefly into her navel, raising goose bumps, and she moans, slipping off her shirt. He follows the sticky rivulets up to her neck, lapping at the hollow of her throat. He unhooks her bra, sliding it down her arms, and her head falls back when he catches her nipple in his mouth. Scully's fingers twine in his hair, trying to drag him up, but he resists, nibbling lightly at her breast as he pours half-melted ice cream over it. It dribbles down her side and he chases it, his five o' clock shadow making her breath hitch. She feels so hot she's surprised Ben and Jerry haven't sublimated directly to a gaseous state. She wriggles out of her underwear. His teeth graze along the curve of her waist and she shivers. Mulder massages her foot, eliciting a long sigh, then smoothes his hand up her leg and teases her clitoris with his thumb. He slides two fingers inside of her and grins against her sugar-cookie skin when she gasps. Her nails dig into his shoulder, though she's not sure if she wants to pull him up or push him down. He moves his hand away for a moment, then her eyes fly open at the frosty press of the upturned spoon between her thighs. "Mulder, you can't be ser - " Scully arches upwards as he dips down to taste her; sea-spray and taffy, fleur de sel caramel. His tongue is hot chocolate against the aching cold. She closes her eyes again, lost to anything but his mouth and his hands and the torturous nipping of his careful teeth. Mulder hums against her, feeling her legs tighten against his face, hearing the toss of her hair on the cool, silk pillowcase. One smooth heel grinds into his upper back and he runs the flat of his tongue over her, painting her with whipped cream from the bed. Scully's breathing is shallow and ragged; her skin beaded with a fine sheen of sweat. And then her hips jerk hard as she calls his name hoarsely, one white-knuckled hand gripping the sheet as the other flutters along his forehead. Mulder holds her tightly as she rocks beneath him and then, finally, she lays still and gasping. He kisses his way up her body, making her twitch. He wraps his arms around her, smoothing sweat-soaked hair from her face as he nuzzles her ear. "Scully?" "Hmmm?" "I hated that duvet. Ruining it satisfied me on many levels." "I'll probably forgive you." "So you're not going to hurt me now?" "Only if you're good."