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TITLE: Dead Fed Sex
AUTHOR: Tesla
RATING: R
SPOILERS:
CHARACTERS:
DISCLAIMERS:
SUMMARY:
NOTES:Missing sex scene from "There Is No Seven." This is a tsunami relief fic, requested by a non-Ljer. All she wanted was Vamp!Mulder/Scully sex. Okay.
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It was like Scully hadn't quite believed in the whole vampire thing until she was sliding her palms inside Mulder's tee shirt and feeling the lukewarm skin of his chest and no heartbeat. "Amazing!" she said, passion and scientific interest warring within her.
Mulder's lips quirked into a half-smile. "So, are we playing doctor or are we playing doctor ?" He pulled the shirt over his head, and Scully immediately looked at his abdomen.
"You still have the gunshot scar," she said, touching it.
"Got the one on my leg, too," Mulder said. "Got the crease in my scalp, too." His hands settled on the back of her neck, gently massaging it.
Scully clasped his forearms. "Mulder, this really happened, didn't it? You really don't have a pulse."
"A little late to be worrying about that now," Mulder said. "After all the trouble you went to." His voice had the old familiar teasing note.
"You're pissed off that I did that? That you have a soul?"
He straightened her shirt collar. "Well, hell, Scully, it was the first time since I was 12 that I wasn't worried about my family, my work, you---jeeze. My father used to say, 'You won't be happy until you're dead.' He was right." She felt a sudden chill, and looked down. He'd unbuttoned her shirt, and she'd never felt it.
"What?"
"Vamp speed," he said. "I can shoot better, too."
"Shoot? You---doesn't Angel have all those swords and battle-axes downstairs?"
"Yeah, I don't know what that's all about," he said. He drew his fingertips along her waist, and she shivered. Her slacks fell to her ankles. Mulder smiled again, and dropped gracefully to his knees, and she felt his mouth on her belly. It wasn't cold, but she shivered.
"Mulder," she said, and, bending at the waist, embraced him. She felt tears begin to slide down her face.
"No," Mulder said, and straightened up, pulling her with him. That was unfamiliar, this boneless ease of movement. Mulder had always been a little awkward, showing traces of the gawky adolescent he had once been. Now, he moved with a fluid confidence he had never had before.
"Don't cry, Scully," he said. "I'll get all self-conscious."
She snorted.
Mulder laughed, and then kissed her. He scooped her up so quickly that she felt she had levitated, and then they were on the bed, and Mulder's mouth was trailing a necklace of kisses down her neck, as his fingertips traced first one, then the other nipple.
She was shivering, but not from him, because he was getting warmer under her touch. She thought she would shake completely out of her skin, under his hands and mouth, even before he spread her wide and began tracing her inner folds with his tongue. She could feel the orgasm building, and felt the breath leaving her like the collapse of a balloon, and she came.
Mulder lay with his face on her stomach for a moment,letting her settle down, then crawled up her. Braced on one hand, he used the other to position himself, and then, in one smooth stroke he was inside her. She opened her eyes and his face was very close.
There were golden glints, she thought, in his green eyes, and then something occurred to her. "If your blood doesn't circulate, how do you have an erection?"
The corners of his eyes crinkled in a real, Mulder-smile. "Desire."
"No, really."
He began moving. "The same," stroke, "way," stroke, "I talk, walk. Will."
And then she stopped thinking at all.
They lay together, Scully's head on his arm. Mulder's canines itched. He really wanted to bite her. Not drain her, no, never, although he had once fantasized about turning her to be his companion, forever.
Still wanted to taste her blood. His imprinting was permanent, that was what Spike had done to him. To penetrate someone and be penetrated; it wasn't just the physical itch, it was the heart of true mystic union. And he couldn't do that to her. Moreover, he didn't trust himself to stop. His soul wasn't even a day old. Conscience, super-ego, whatever. If it made Scully, and Spike, and everyone feel better to think that it was goodness, then, fine.
He thought he heard, in the silence of the hotel, another heartbeat. He nudged her. "They're coming back," he said, and got up and gathered her clothes. They had just dressed when the door blew open.
Mulder saw the big dark guy---the sire of his sire, the butt of Spike's jokes, and felt both his soul, his confusion, their kinship, and his power.
Bloodsmell.
This was more like it.
Mulder laughed.
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