Drabble #14
by Aloysia VirgataEmail: aloysia.virgata@yahoo.com
Category: Post-IWTB
For readmypress: Scully-initiated sex at the unremarkable house somewhere other than the bedroom :) Anything that would require an adult content warning on AO3.
***
They watch from the porch settee, trees whipping as the rain slashes down. Scully feels alive in the electricity, galvanized. She kisses him in a flash of lightning, jaw rough beneath her palm. His hands slip under her shirt, spanning her back, and she climbs onto his lap.
"Aren't you friendly this evening?"
"Remember that storm in Pittsfield?" she breathes. "First time on a case."
"Mmmm..." he says, fingers on her left nipple. "Blame that on the environmental wash of teenaged hormones."
"I was a Betty." She wriggles out of her pajama bottoms.
"Still are," he mumbles into her hair, helping her tug his pants off.
He still looks damned good at fifty she thinks, biting her cheek as he eases inside of her. His hands are warm on her breasts, her waist.
She rolls her hips, hearing him sigh between the thunderclaps. Scully tongues the salty skin at the base of his neck. He grips her thighs, thrusting harder when she nips his throat. The wind shifts, pelting them with rain.
Their bodies are slick, her world narrowed to the solid weight of him beneath and inside of her. She tugs at his hair, thumbs brushing his earlobes. Mulder has his mouth at her breast. She can't remember all the excuses they made, the tension between them a palpable ache for so long. She recalls the exhilarated awkwardness of their first night in his apartment.
They've made careful study in the years since. Mulder's pace has become insistent, his thumb on her clitoris lighting a fuse at the base of her spine. She holds his biceps for leverage as her head falls back.
Scully thinks he calls her name, but it is swallowed up by the storm.