TITLE: Unthinking (1/1) AUTHOR: Zephathah E-MAIL ADDRESS: zephathah@yahoo.com RATING: NC-17 CATEGORY: VR KEYWORDS: MSR, PWP SPOILERS: nada SUMMARY: Thoughts they weren't thinking while making love. DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere (but please let me know), except do not archive at Gossamer; I'll send it myself. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. FEEDBACK: Better than sex. Possibly even better than chocolate. Convince me. Send to zephathah@yahoo.com NOTES: Anything that's good about this piece of writing, I owe to my kick-ass beta, Shoshana. It never would have seen the light of anyone else's computer screen without her. Unthinking by Zephathah They might have been thinking about the inevitability of this moment, might have felt the weight of a foreordained event. They might have wondered at their lack of apprehension - or might have struggled to overcome the fear of this moment's implications. This is not what they were thinking. She was aware of Mulder's proximity; she could sense his presence with every pore in her body. Her back was slightly chilled through her blouse. Her front was warm, because he was standing less than a foot in front of her. She raised her hands to his sides, feeling the firmness of bone and muscle beneath her fingers, and leaned closer to inhale deeply, just so she could breathe the air that surrounded him. She ran her palms over the hardness of his stomach. She might have thought "washboard stomach", but she didn't. She just liked the feel of his body beneath her hands. Her eyes followed her hands up his torso. She looked up into his face, and his eyes were burning, burning. His gaze drew her in, and his lips moved closer, closer. She might have thought about the heavy ball of anticipation and arousal deep in her gut, but she didn't. She merely felt it as part of the instant, part of the energy coursing through their bodies, crossing the space between them. He cupped Scully's face in his hands, feeling the skin move across her cheekbones as his thumbs caressed her. Eyes so blue, locked with his as their lips moved inexorably closer to each other's. His fingers nestled into her hair, sensing each strand, contrasting the softness of her hair with the solidity of her skull. Then his lips were on hers; he tasted her lipstick, his lips sliding across hers atop the waxy layer. He kept his lips soft and pliant so he could appreciate the softness of hers. When her mouth opened under his and her tongue licked his lips, he had to close his eyes to prevent his senses overloading. Mulder's lips were warm and full, and suddenly she couldn't get enough of him. She opened her lips and tried to devour his, wanting to pull the taste of him into herself. She slid her tongue into his mouth, felt that ball in her stomach leap when he moved his hips in closer to hers. His hands were occupied keeping their heads steady, so she slipped her hands around his back, moving lower to provide support when she pressed her lower body into his groin. He groaned into her mouth, but it wasn't enough for her, and she took her hands from his body to wrestle with the button and zipper at the side of her pants. When they fell around her ankles, she went to work on the fly of his jeans. She was still kissing him, hard, wanting to get inside him, needing to feel him all over her body. Her hands thrust under the elastic of his boxers and pushed them down to the floor with his jeans. When Scully's hands grasped his naked ass, squeezing and pulling him to her, his moan broke their kiss as he arched his back in pleasure. When the intensity subsided somewhat, he paused to soak in this vision before him: Scully, her lips swollen from his kisses, slightly parted in anticipation of his return. Her eyelids were at half-mast, but he could see her tracking him. His eyes hardened in decision; he saw hers widen in recognition. No words were necessary, and they might have marveled at their almost eerie level of communication. But they didn't. They took action instead. Scully placed her hands on his shoulders for balance; he leaned down to pull off her briefs. She lifted one leg at a time out of the piled clothing, and he carefully removed her shoes, then gently rolled down her trouser socks to her ankles and pulled them off her feet. As he straightened, he kept his face close to her skin, breathing her in as he traveled up her body. His cheek, rough with a day's growth, grazed the silky smoothness of her; his nose bumped and nuzzled her curves and valleys. His hands followed, moving up her body until they were under her shirt. She unbuttoned the top button, then raised her arms to let him lift the shirt off. With that barrier out of the way, her breasts drew his hands like magnets. She arched into his palms, and he let out a moan that matched hers. He needed to feel her skin. He reached around her back to unhook her bra, then slid it off her shoulders and arms. He held her breasts in his hands, weighing them, thumbs moving in circles around the nipples. They felt good, heavy and soft and all Scully. He couldn't resist reaching down with his mouth to suckle one of her perfect breasts, and she gasped when he teased a nipple with his tongue. She took him in hand, her fingers stroking and caressing, and when he released her to pull off his own shirt, she bent to add lips and tongue to her hands' work. He felt hard as steel; all he wanted to do was bury himself inside her and stay there forever. She seemed to have similar ideas. That wasn't surprising, despite their frequent disagreements. They were best friends, weren't they? They both sought the Truth, didn't they? And they'd loved each for years, hadn't they? Just because it hadn't been accepted aloud didn't mean they both didn't know it was true. But neither of them were thinking about these things. In this moment, all thought was translated into action. She pushed Mulder firmly on the chest, toppling him backwards onto the bed. She knelt and removed his shoes, socks, pants, and boxers from around his ankles. She ran her hands up his legs, the wiry hair on his calves turning softer as she reached his thighs, then smoothing out altogether over his hips and stomach. She trailed kisses behind her hands, paying special attention to the sensitive, soft skin just inside his hipbones. She slid the rest of her body over his to return to his mouth, the hardness of his erection pressing into her. His arms closed around her lower back; the heat of his hands burned her skin. Then the world was turned upside down as he flipped them both over. She took a moment to explore the musculature of his arms, those strong, steady arms that held her up when she needed it, protected her even when she didn't need it. But she wasn't thinking of that right now. She just liked that his arms were strong and sure when they moved over her body. She was safe and warm, the weight of him above her - not his physical weight, but the weight of his presence. In the space beneath his body and between his arms, she could feel him all around her. His face lowered next to hers, and they breathed in each other's scent - no, scent wasn't the right word. They breathed in the air that had been changed by its contact with the other's skin. But they weren't thinking of the right word to describe it; they were busy filling their lungs with the stuff itself. He brought his body closer to Scully's, so he could feel her skin on his. He could feel her hardened nipples trailing against his skin. She was tugging his lower body closer, and he needed to be inside her. She was small, so small, but she was his and he was hers, and she wanted him inside her and he wouldn't crush her, and then he was finding his way, he was pushing slowly, so slowly inside her and then he was there, surrounded by her, smooth and wet and hot. His awareness was narrowed to the length of muscle buried in her. He wanted to crawl inside her skin, merge with her, but all he could manage was to get as deep as he could, as close as he could. As he pushed inside her, all other sensations fled, and she was only able to experience the incredible feeling of Mulder, her Mulder, hard and filling her. She wanted to take all of him inside her and be completely surrounded by him. She might have realized this was a paradox, but she didn't, because at this moment everything made sense. Then he was pulling out of her slowly, so slowly, and every millimeter was as wide and deep as the ocean. He was moving in and out and the sensation was expanding from her center to overwhelm every fiber of her being. She stroked his neck and shoulders, feeling the muscles and tendons straining. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, crossing at the ankles to give her leverage for squeezing him in the vise-grip of her thighs. Their sighs and moans mingled together, deep, guttural groans as he pulled out so he was barely at her entrance, then plunged back into the tightness of her body. Their breathing quickened with each thrust; she reached beneath her thighs to stroke and squeeze him, encouraging him to thrust deeper, harder. He grabbed hold of the edge of the mattress above her head with one hand and protected her head from knocking against the wooden headboard with the other. Beads of sweat popped out on their skin; their bodies slipped across each other. He might have thought about how much Scully meant to him, how amazing it was they were together like this, how everything they'd been through made this moment that much sweeter, how he never wanted to be apart from her again. But he contemplated none of these things - it was all together with his love and need for her in each thrust, each breath, each time he brushed his lips against her cheek. He kept his face next to hers, merging their gasps and moans with the intensity of feeling and energy between them. It was nothing fancy, nothing exotic, no special tricks, no talented tongues; it was standard missionary position. But they didn't think about that. The act itself was almost peripheral. They were as close as they could get; beyond that, not much mattered. It was an opportunity to be inside and surround the other, to mix emotional and physical love in a moment that extended an eon beyond a moment. When they came, it was Scully first, Mulder after. Always the gentleman. And maybe they were both surprised by the sheer intensity of their release. But they thought about neither of these things. It was right and natural that they come one after the other - together, but separate enough to enjoy the other's pleasure. As they did everything together, but separately. What was that quote from Kahlil Gibran? 'But let there be spaces in your togetherness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.' Later, when hearts had slowed and breathing was calmed, all these thoughts and more came to them. And they might have dwelled on them, might have analyzed each moment of the moment that lasted forever. They might have thought about what this meant for them, their jobs, their future. But there would be time for all these thoughts another day. Tonight they would breathe each other's air and sleep at each other's side, and maybe this moment they'd found would be with them when they woke. Because tomorrow they would be thinking. fin Please send feedback to: zephathah@yahoo.com http://zephathah.tripod.com/ ________________________________________ Zephathah zephathah@yahoo.com http://zephathah.tripod.com/ "We know the truth, not only by the reason, but by the heart." -Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)