Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

SCULLY: "Mulder, you're speaking as if we're all trapped in one of those contraptions that he built.

SCULLY: What the hell happened here, Mulder?

MULDER: Cause... and effect

MULDER: Cause and effect: seemingly unrelated and unconnected events and occurrences that appear unrelated and random beforehand [...]

Extracts from the episode The Goldberg Variation

Nowadays - Unremarkable House

Soaked by sweat and heavily panting, Mulder enters the living room and jogs towards Scully. She's sitting at her desk and obviously still immersed in her work. Yet he feels the need and can't help teasing her, no matter what. As only half expected she doesn't even move when he reaches her chair. He abruptly stops his movements, standing still behind her and catching his breath for a few seconds, their bodies only inches apart.

This morning, for no particular reason, Scully has filled him with wild thoughts while he was running outdoors. He now has to expel and exude them the same way sweat has already poured off his skin. Though, he wants to be gentle, to respect her concentration. Restraining his gestures, he slowly leans over her and pecks her neck. No apparent reaction, she remains focused on her homework. He then pokes the tip of his tongue in the depression of her right ear while viscerally but softly groaning and moaning.

A hit. She jerks and laughs.

Unfortunately, her shifted mood doesn't last. Soon she waves him off and launches words and arguments at his face. She cannot stop what she's doing right now. She must finalize her article. And she finishes him off with a bunch of technical and scientific words that must convince him how important her task is.

Disappointed he steps backwards, takes off his shoes and heads up toward the bathroom.

As he strips and steps into the shower his earlier wild thoughts are fiercely coming back. They are now fueled by Scully's attitude. Even more by her words. Decades after decades, her way to spill out science and rationality, her penchant for wrapping him with precise and technical terms has always ignited his desire. Has thrilled his nerves. Has made his blood rush.

Invigorated by the warm water falling down on his body, his right hand has instinctively settled on his groin. Has stroked his faithful and now fully awakened penis.

"See, Bob, we are on our own. But don't be sad, I'm sure that before the end of the day she'll crave you."

Squeezing and handling his cock in a regular and familiar pace, he closes his eyes and lets his fantasies take control.

He's back in the living-room, back when Scully waves him off. This time he doesn't surrender. He grabs Scully's wrists, makes her stand up and kicks away her office chair. He then turns her petite body around and pushes aside her laptop but not her papers. He forces her to bend over the table, face on her sheets, hands trapped under her chest. He likes the sensation of his physical dominance over her, how easily she can be manipulated despite her strength. She could resist more, though. Her muscles are limp and she only gasps and mumbles a vague 'Mulder, no.' He leans over her, grabs her scalp firmly with his left hand and whispers in her ear 'Scully, yes.'

Sensing drops of sweat on his forehead he slides his right thumb on his wet skin then offers the tip of his finger to Scully's face. She parts her lips so he can oblige her want and slip his thick moist thumb into her mouth. She greedily sucks it in, licks it and savors its flavors. She moans. She wants more. Letting her play with his finger he frees his left hand from her head and expertly pushes down his shorts and her silky pajama pants. His liberated glorious shaft bumps into her back, making her shiver as she senses now its complete firmness on her skin. 'I want you to beg for it', Mulder dictates. Scully smiles and bites his thumb as an answer --almost drawing blood-- winning an 'Ouch!' and letting him know that she could still take over him if only she wants to.

After adjusting their position and spreading Scully's legs as best as he can --clothes still restricting their moves-- Mulder parts her labia so he can slide his cock alongside her folds. He can't help letting out feral grunts as his devoted dick surfs her slit while his hand squeezes her cheeks. It's high tide down there and he can smell and feel her inner waters pouring out and flooding him. Together they are riding waves, moving their hips back and forth in unison. Rubbing, pressing, tickling in rhythm. Each sway exquisitely teasing and titillating Scully's clit.

'Mulder, please,' she softly mumbles, still sucking his thumb. 'Beg better than that, Scully,' he answers loudly.

Impatient and unfulfilled she frees her left arm and hand --they were never truly impeded-- and directs them toward their junction. Mulder quickly stops her. 'You cheat, honey. I wanna hear you plead for mercy. Loud and clear,' he adds authoritatively, forcing her to implore lustily. 'Mulder... Please!'

"Mulder... Mulder? Please, open your eyes."

He obeys, turns his head and discovers Scully standing still on the other side of the shower glass. An apparition in silky pajamas. They lock eyes and she smiles at his surprised and amazed face. Then, she slowly lowers her gaze, biting her bottom lip as she appreciates what she sees --or maybe just guesses the wonders behind the foggy glass. Mulder hasn't stopped his masturbation, just slowed the pace when she appeared, still half stuck in his daydream. With his spare hand he wipes off the steam on the glass, clearing the view. He's about to say something when she stares back at him and nods her head toward his periodic movements, sending him a message. He understands and agrees. They exchange a few more wordless gestures and glances then they start playing their duet.

Mulder quickens his rhythm and shows off all his length. Scully slips her hands underneath her pajamas and beholds the performance.

And, after a little while, Mulder's ex-surfer Bob expels and exudes his salty juices, enchanting its private audience.

Chapter Text

Nowhere Town - September 1998 - Shabby Motel

Feeling sweaty and tired, Scully rises from her chair and stretches her whole body. She needs to take a break from her boring paperwork. And she needs ice, the air being really too hot in the shabby motel room. Of course Mulder has gone out, expelling his rage against their new garbage and nonsense FBI assignment. Letting Scully fill out dumb reports while he runs in the night. In this desolated town. In the middle of nowhere. Nowhere Town.

Scully grabs and puts on her light robe --a futile touch to hide her pajamas as she's quite sure not to encounter anyone. She steps outside, appreciating to finally breathe some fresh air, and then heads towards the ice machine located somewhere behind the buildings. All is quiet, the parking lot seeming to hold only a couple of cars. She realizes that maybe Mulder and she are the only guests. She cannot imagine a reason for staying overnight in this godforsaken area of America, other than a shitty FBI routine investigation.

As soon as she turns around the corner of their building she spots their rental car. Parked alone in a badly lit corner. And not in the place where they had left it earlier. Mulder must have come back from his distant jogging and she hasn't heard him entering his own room. Strange.

Watching the car more closely she notices a shadow in the driver seat. Is Mulder there? What for and for how long? Intrigued, Scully gives up her search for ice and steps slowly in the direction of the car. She knows she has to be careful when dealing with Mulder's frustration and anger. Moreover, she's perfectly aware that their relationship is currently surrounded by mines --the Fowley problem, their eviction from the X Files-- ready to blow up at any time. And above all that they are still both stuck in an improbable tense dance, making them constantly spiral around each other but inches apart --moving endlessly like two charged particles unable to settle down into the unstable equilibrium they are attracted to.

When she reaches the car she slows her pace and quietly approaches the driver side. Having seen movements she couldn't understand, she remains silent and chooses to first ponder the situation. The inside of the car being dim it takes a little while for her eyes and mind to make sense of what they are perceiving. When all becomes clear she freezes for a few seconds, unable to think and do anything. Except staring in awe.

Mulder is masturbating. Right now, right there in their rental car. In the parking lot of a shabby motel in Nowhere Town. Unaware of her presence or any presence at all.

Mulder's head being slightly tilted to his right side and his eyes being apparently half-closed, Scully's stare gives up his upper body to settle specifically on his lap. Through the car window, she fixates on the mesmerizing up and down moves of his left hand that reveals partially and periodically his fascinating glistening penis. She briefly forms a question in her head --left handed?-- then she lets her body and mind loose.

Chapter Text

Nowhere Town - September 1998 - Shabby Motel

When arriving in the parking lot of the motel Mulder has half deliberately driven in one of its farthest corners then parked the rental car in a weakly lit place. He has been seeking loneliness and quietness away from their adjoining rooms. Away from Scully.

He's now handling the magazine he has found during his jog and hesitates to look through it, feeling somehow ashamed and guilty. He inhales deeply, puts some sunflower seeds in his mouth, and before daring to turn the first page of the infamous periodical he remembers the earlier events of the evening.

Two hours ago he drove to the sports field located about ten miles away. He had spotted it during their wanderings of the day and had been attracted by its athletics track. He found the gates closed but not high enough to prevent him from getting in --trespassing had always been a hobby for him. Then he ran miles and miles on the racetrack in a semi-darkness, exuding and expelling his rage through sweat and muscular pains. When he was about to begin his last lap he heard laughs and shouts coming from behind the small building on his right. Intrigued, he jogged in the direction of the sounds in a slow and quiet pace. As soon as he turned around the building a bunch of teenagers fled in a blink, disappearing through a hole in the wire fence.

This is how he found a lantern, packs of beers and a few porn magazines. On the upper one three words immediately caught his sight --'Special redhead hotties.'

Examining once again the cover of the magazine he cannot deny the reason he had stolen this specific one. It's not a publication he knows --despite his deep knowledge of the genre-- and he hopes to discover in it the almost perfect picture he's been seeking for years. The one that would help him fulfill his fantasies and release his tensions. The last weeks have been a mess in his relationship with Scully. He doesn't know anymore how to deal properly with her, how to make her swallow the Diana pill, why one day everything between them seems perfect and light-hearted then all goes to shit the following day.

Today has been an in-between, lukewarm working day, yet he doesn't dare open the magazine in his room, too close to Scully. That would be a kind of betrayal or a misstep. Maybe even too powerful and dangerous an act for his own sanity, knowing she would be just behind the thin wall separating them.

After spilling out the shells of his seeds at his feet he feels he's ready. He browses the pages and reaches the redhead part. The fifth woman is the one. Almost perfect. Naked under a widely open raincoat, perched on high heels and exposing light pink skin. Her face is mostly hidden by long strands of red hair. It could be Scully. In a posture he could only dream of. One leg raised, the foot resting on a hay bale, thighs largely parted to allow a great view of her intimate treasure.

He puts another handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth, lays the magazine against the edge of the passenger seat, and frees his penis. Then, while looking at the photo and sliding the fingers of his right hand on the glossy paper he squeezes and pumps his already hardening cock with his left hand. He easily imagines that his mouth and tongue are playing with the pictured pussy, the seeds acting as a substitute.

But soon he closes his eyes and lets Scully --and not her imitation-- invade his whole brain. His head being turned to her side of the car he can smell remnants of her fragrance that linger above her seat. He's no longer in the rental car but in a barn, surrounded by cows and hay. They had interviewed a farmer this morning and he's now able to summon the odors he had caught there. He tears Scully's raincoat off, revealing her beautiful naked body, and bends her down on the hay covering the whole ground. It'll be only a quickie, they --he-- could be caught. His dick is already fully erect and out of his pants, Scully's drenched folds are fully exposed and waiting for it. He unthinkingly enters her in a single smooth move and begins his rhythmic thrusts, pushing and pulling fast and hard.

He swears he can hear Scully moaning in his left ear, almost imperceptibly. A part of his brain makes him turn his head, open his eyes and watch through the window. Scully. Wearing a robe over her pajamas, facing him, her right hand moving under her pants. Displaying an enraptured face and look, staring fixedly at his lap.

Realizing in a second what's happening --Scully touches herself while watching him masturbate-- he immediately and unexpectedly ejaculates, taking him off guard and almost choking with the seeds.

"Jesus!... Damn! Scully!" he shouts out loud while looking at Scully's reactions and spilling out seeds all over his lap. Her whole body shivers for a few seconds then her head raises and her eyes lock on his.

Both of them stay still, unable to move and think, exchanging undecipherable looks and expressions.

Scully is the first to break their awkward connection, smiling, looking back at his lap and exhaling a heavy sigh. Resuming her stare on his face, she launches him a ravenous and libidinous look, slowly sliding her tongue along her lower lip, then turns back and quickly leaves the scene.

Mulder is right away amazed and startled by Scully's last look, sending sparks in his brain and delivering another rush of blood in his penis just beginning its rest. Lowering his head, he notices he's still handling his now awakening dick and catches all the mess he has produced in their rental car and on his clothes.

"Oh, shit! What have you done Bob? I have to clean and wash all the junk now," he says out loud to himself, disappointed that he cannot just open the door and rush after Scully.

Chapter Text

Nowadays - Unremarkable House

Scully struggles and tries hard to focus on her article, in vain. After a few minutes she can only acknowledge her defeat. She's too weak and she's fighting a losing battle against Mulder's remnants all around her and against the desire he had ignited when he was teasing her. She can still feel the tip of his tongue in her ear, still sense the warmth that was wrapping her when he had bent over her, and even smell the faint odor of his sweaty skin. Looking lazily at her papers on the desk her eyes spot a droplet on one of the sheets. She sighs, smiles and puts her right index on the wet substance. Mulder's sweat.

She cannot deny that she had always been turned on by Mulder soaked in sweat from a jog. Furthermore, since she saw him in their rental car in Nowhere Town --wearing his sticky sport clothes and drenched with layers of sweat excreted throughout his run then his masturbation-- she couldn't prevent the horniest thoughts from invading her mind whenever it happens.

Her homework can go to hell, it's Sunday morning and she's not even dressed for the day.

She stands up and slowly steps towards the stairs. She's not in a rush and she particularly likes to take her time when reaching him, leaving room for her fantasies and desire to completely emerge and bloom. Climbing up the stairs and hearing the sound of the shower she ponders her next move. Would she prefer to join him under the water? Or wait for his fresh cleaned body? It's too late for his jog sweat, anyway. If she wants some she would have to make him perspire through sexual ecstasy.

When ascending the final steps --ascending to her own movie star-- a crude scene suddenly shows up on the screen of her mind. Mulder's ejaculation in Nowhere Town. A white and mute firework that had made her whole body explode as well. Had made her experience a weird orgasm, almost discreet in its external expressions --she had been able to restrain herself-- yet completely outstanding and mind-blowing in her inner core.

She arrives at the threshold of the bathroom. The door is wide open, Mulder's T-shirt preventing its closure. Has he tossed his T-shirt there intentionally? Is it a breadcrumb for her, an invitation? She grabs the soaked T-shirt and dives her face into the fabric, inhaling deeply.

Memories are coming back fiercely.

After their unusual shared climax in the parking lot of Nowhere Town she left the scene and returned to her room. Not without sending him her own kind of invitation, a subtle but explicit message expressed with her face. This night she would have allowed him to enter her room and join her in her bed. She had left their adjoining door open, her bedside lamp on, and had waited for his return and his choice. Laying in her bed she heard him enter his room then step towards the adjoining door. For a few minutes they both stayed still and held their breath.

Alas, Mulder stepped back and went into his bathroom to have a shower.

Yet, still restless, she attempted a bold move, getting out of her bed and entering his room. She found his sport clothes tossed on his bed, grabbed his T-shirt and examined it like an investigator searching for clues. Surely he had done some cleaning with the shirt and for a second she thought about stealing it --a trophy she would have kept in the drawer of her night table at home. She gave up the idea and just smelled it, trying to perceive all the odors that were melted in the fabric. Trying especially to discern the one she hadn't yet the occasion to come upon so closely --the odor of his semen. Still holding his shirt she then moved towards the bathroom. The door was ajar and she poked her head in. She saw his silhouette behind the shower glass, all blurry with the steam.

Finally, she wasn't bold enough.

She suddenly found the situation completely awkward and inappropriate and she let her rational mind regain control over her body. She dropped down the T-shirt at her feet --not worrying about the clue she might leave-- and came back to her room, closed the door, switched off the light and tried to dive into sleep as soon as possible.

Of course, the following day and for many months, they never discussed what had happened and she had kept the scene in a specific folder of her memory.

"Mulder... Mulder? Please, open your eyes," she says to him when arriving against the shower glass.

She's not at all surprised to find him masturbating in the shower. She just has been too foolish to ignore his --her-- desire and turn him down. She now intends to have fun and please herself and themselves. First, she wants to seize the moment and have some enjoyable foreplay, feeling already completely aroused.

When they became lovers they spoke about the Nowhere Town event and every now and then they reenact the scene, playing their duet of voyeurs and exhibitionists. Though, they never have experienced the level of intensity and exaltation they had back then. Still, that's always a delightful and playful moment they both appreciate, especially when it's an impromptu performance.

She likes to watch his still perfect body being so alive and showing off his manhood. She has studied anatomy and physiology, seen a lot of bare flesh and done her share of autopsies, but none of that could come close to the biological performance she beholds. Having slipped her hand underneath her pajamas she touches herself in a pattern that follows Mulder's rhythm, while fixating on the mesmerizing up and down moves of his right hand that squeezes and pumps his hard glistening penis.

After a little while of their shared dance inches apart and separated by a glass, Mulder's cock expels and exudes his salty juices, enchanting her and triggering her own orgasm.

"Want to join me in the shower?" Mulder asks when she seems to descend from her peak.

She ponders the proposition for a few seconds then shakes her head.

"Mmmm... Get out and let's go to a more comfy place. I'm hungry for your appetizing dick and I'd want to be at ease when tasting it and savoring it in my mouth," she replies.

"Wow... Well, Scully... You know what? 69 is a favorite year of mine. Let's celebrate the first steps on the moon. Our bed will be our spacecraft to ascend to the heavens."

He turns off the faucet, steps out of the shower and grabs the towel Scully is offering him.

"Are you aware that I'm not as young as I was back in the days?" he says, pointing out his penis now at rest.

"Don't worry. I'm confident. Besides, we are not in a hurry," she shrugged.

"What about your article? All your science that cannot wait?"

"Shut up Mulder, and come on."

She takes his hand and leads them out of the bathroom.

As they move forward, Mulder throws down the towel and, bending slightly his head down toward his lap, asserts with a soft voice:

"You see, Bob, I told you. She's craving you. Soon you'll be in a happier place than my hand."

Scully stops, turns around and faces him.

"Really? You have conversations with Bob out loud?" she says, half laughing.

"Aging, Scully, aging.... It makes you a bit deaf."

Then, Scully drops her smile and launches Mulder a ravenous and libidinous look, slowly sliding her tongue along her lower lip. Leaning her head down, she stares at his crotch and whispers softly in a husky voice,

"Come on Bob. You're not deaf. Let's speak in tongues together."

She must perfectly know Mulder inside out because he's right away triggered by Scully's attitude and words, sending sparks in his brain and delivering a welcomed rush of blood in his penis.

"Seems that Bob isn't as deaf as I thought, nor as aged," Mulder concludes. "Lucky Bob!"