Title: After the Jog
Author: Adrienne < davephile@yahoo.com > 
Date: March 30, 2000
Rating: 17+
Spoilers: none
Classification: VR
Keywords: MSR, Scully POV, PWP
Archive: Anywhere, in its entirety
Summary: Scully watches Mulder jog and brings him
bagels. And you all know how horny people get around
bagels.
Disclaimer: I'm not Scully, and she and Mulder aren't
my characters to be messing with, but I do it anyway,
because it's just so fun to do.
Author's Notes: This was something I wrote in a couple
hours when my smut muse actually visited me. I love it
when that happens. This is dedicated to the bad bunny.

***************************

He likes to jog in the mornings, in the summer on the
weekends.

And I like to watch him.

He hasn't ever noticed, or acknowledged me anyway, as
I indulge in my secret pleasure of watching him run
around the park a few blocks from his apartment
building. It all began one early morning when I was
stopping by with a surprise breakfast, just some
bagels and cream cheese, nothing fancy, really. He
would think it was strange if I brought him pancakes
or made him an omelet. That's just the way he is.

I was in my car, pulling into a very tight parallel
space across the street when I saw him emerge from the
doors, wearing a nice grey t-shirt and, to my
pleasure, some mesh shorts that lightly grazed against
the skin halfway down his thighs. I just sat in my
car, frozen, staring at him and subconsciously drawing
hair behind my ear as II felt a juvenile flush spread
over my face. His hair, dark and disheveled from
sleep, fell across his forehead as he leaned over to
stretch his long arms down to his feet. He arched his
back and I could practically hear the morning groan he
surely was releasing under his breath. It rendered me
speechless, my own breath catching in my throat as I
watched him stretch his legs and arms, watched him
slowly roll his head over his shoulders as if he were
performing some graceful erotic movement for my eyes
only.

Too quickly for my liking, he had then trotted down
the stairs, and I just had to follow him. Follow him
all the way to the park, where he soon found a trail
and was quickly out of eyesight of the thin road where
I had pulled along the side.

I had left then, my courage rapidly depleting as I
silently shunned myself for my voyeuristic 
attitude. However, now that I knew where he ran, it
was just a matter of being in the right place at 
the right time in order to catch a glimpse of him
again.

So it became something of a weekend ritual for me,
driving to the park and finding a place to sit in my
car and watch for him to run by. When I was feeling
really daring, I would venture into the small wooded
areas surrounding what seemed to be his favorite trail
and wait for him.

He never disappointed me, especially when the weather
got warmer and he decided it was the time of the year
for nice, loose tank tops that draped from his broad
shoulders, dark sweat spots sometimes sticking to the
skin of his back or stomach. 

Every morning I wished I could be one of those tank
tops, clinging to his hot sweaty skin, feeling his
heartbeat quicken, hearing his hard breath as he
kept going... and going... and going.

I continued my observations for several weeks; I don't
know why, really... but I always told myself I
deserved to get some sort of excitement out of the
weekend and watching him was as good as anything else
I could think of. Besides being with him.

And that thought is what led me to his apartment door
this Saturday morning, after I watched him get back
from his jog. I knew he would be showering within
that next ten minutes, and I wanted to catch him right
as he got out and make it seem coincidental. This
venture was something for my own enjoyment more than
anything--seeing Mulder in a towel would give me
fodder for fantasies well into the rest of the
weekend.

I knock loudly on the door, precisely fifteen minutes
after he entered his building, allowing for time 
to get up the elevator and remove his clothes before
stepping into the shower. I figure if he doesn't
answer, he's still in there, and I will knock again in
a minute or two. I hear locks on the door turn as I
step away from it. This is it. This is really it. I
can only hope that he's...

 "Hey, Scully," he says, peeking his head around the
door. Wet tendrils of hair over his forehead drip
water onto his face and he brushes it up with a hand. 
I am breathless for a split second before smiling.

"Mulder," I reply, lifting up my paper sack from the
bagel shop. "Bagels?"

"Cream cheese?" he asks, opening the door a little
wider. I see his bare stomach and chest but don't
dare to look down; that would be too obvious.

"You know it," I answer, shaking the bag a little. He
smiles and opens the door wide and I glance down to
see that he has a nice towel snugly wrapped around his
hips. I have to drag my eyes back up to his face, but
they take a nice leisurely trip up his body in the
meantime. He is barely dry, water still beaded on the
soft hairs of his chest that darkens as it gets lower
on his stomach. The towel is so low I can see his
belly button and the line of hair that begins there
and travels down. His arms and shoulders glisten in
the light of the room as I walk in, setting my bag
down on the kitchen counter and catching a sneak peek
at his smooth, wet back and perfectly rounded ass
under the towel.

Now we're both wet.

"Why... why don't I make these," I finally say as he
turns to me, smiling and stretching his arms over his
head with a groan. I hope and pray and plead that the
little white towel will fall but it doesn't. I sigh
and open the bag, the crinkling loud in the otherwise
quiet apartment.

"Good," he replies, running a hand through his wet
hair, slicking it back a bit. "I'm starving."

"Did you have a nice jog this morning?" I ask, without
thinking, until I say it of course. Then I feel myself
blush a bit, hoping that he doesn't realize that
somehow, I knew what he was doing.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles at me. "Yeah I did.
 How did you know I went jogging?"

Frantic. Frantic, frantic. "I uh... I saw you," I
say, pulling the bagels out of the bag and focusing 
my eyes on them. "I saw you just as you were getting
back."

He nods and walks over to me, and really, I wonder if
he even realizes what he's doing to me. I'm getting
more flustered now, butterflies fluttering their wings
in my stomach. I'm almost queasy with anticipation
and nervousness as I take out the cream cheese and set
it on the table next to the bagels. "What kind of
cream cheese?" he asks, running his arm along the
counter and standing right... next... to... me.

I can feel the heat and moisture radiating from his
skin. "Umm... just... normal." Normal? "Plain." 
That's it.

"Oh, Scully," he says, tilting his head to the side. I
feel a tiny bit of water from his hair hit my cheek
and I have to keep myself from shuddering. "You know I
like strawberry."

He's so close to me I can feel his energy. He's just
barely clothed; I could just take the towel in my hand
and pull it away and he'd be standing right next to
me, totally naked. What would he do? He wouldn't
run. He would probably just stand there, looking at
me with this curious, what-are-you-doing look that
would make me feel like I was three inches tall.

"They didn't have it," I finally sigh, looking up into
his eyes for the first time in minutes that seemed
like hours. They're different right now... deeper. Is
that a tinge of interest? Does he realize what he's
doing to me? Questions race through my mind as I pull
my eyes away once again, searching for a knife on the
counter.

"That's too bad," he answers, walking around me to a
drawer and opening it. He grabs a knife and comes up
behind me, handing it over. I accept with a shaking
hand and begin to cut into the first bagel, carefully,
as steadily as I can with him about five inches behind
me.

"You're not cutting it evenly." Mulder reaches in
front of me and grabs my hand to make me stop. I gasp
softly and instantly admonish myself for being such a
flake. "Haven't you ever cut bagels before, Scully?"

"Yeah..." I say, my voice drifting off into nothing. 
I can't think, can't speak, can't reason, can't feel 
anything but his hips as they brush up against mine. 
And then I feel his soft breath against the side of my
neck.

He stays there for a long moment of time, several
seconds, breathing in deeply the scent of my perfume
which I loaded on for my little breakfast visit. Maybe
I shouldn't have put on so much. He breathes out
against my skin and I feel goosebumps spread over my
whole body with a cool tingle.

"Scully..." he starts, his hand coming up to brush the
hair against my neck aside. I breathe in sharply, let
go of the bagel and the knife and grab the counter
white-knuckled. "I know you didn't come over here for
the bagels."

Oh my God.

His lips press against my neck with a nudge that
almost knocks me over. I steady myself with a soft,
surprised moan as I feel the soft warmth of them on
me. He moves them, barely touching, down to the
juncture of my neck and shoulder and back up to my
ear, taking it between his lips and sucking gently. My
shaking knees almost buckle and I lean back against
him, feeling his hot, slightly damp skin through the
fabric of my t-shirt.

"You were watching me jog," he whispers into my ear as
he runs one hand up the side of my thigh and my hip. 
I moan softly again, feeling a little electric jolt
through my lower body. "How long have you been
watching me?"

"A... while," I breathe, pulling my hands from the
counter and digging my fingernails into my thighs. I
want to reach around behind me, to yank down that
towel aand feel him fully against my body, hot and
lean, naked and exposed to my hands and my mouth.

Fantasy is rapidly becoming reality, I realize hazily
as he tugs up at my t-shirt and pulls it up my
stomach. I lift my arms in a reflex, cautiously, and
he removes the shirt almost too quickly for me to
realize what he has just done. It takes a few seconds
for my mind to catch up with the events, but when he
presses his chest against my back, the touch of my
bare skin on his sends me deeper into my lustful haze.

Mulder slides his hands across my sides and stomach,
meeting in the center and moving up to cup my breasts.
 I push into them with a sigh, tilting my head back
against his shoulder and turning to smell the water on
his skin. I flick out my tongue to taste it and he
groans low in his throat, so I do it again, sliding it
over the defined tendon of his neck. He tastes
unbelievably good, plain but sensual.

"I've wanted to do this," he whispers, "for so long...
so long." It's like music to my ears, an exact
reiteration of the feelings I've had for years, every
time he spoke my name, every time we exchanged a
glance or touched hands. My sigh is my only response
as he kneads my breasts with careful hands.

I move one hand back against his thigh, the place
where the terrycloth ends and the skin begins, and
slide my thumb under it lightly. I press against
the hard thigh muscle and it presses back. My hand,
as if it has a mind of its own, slides up under the
terry cloth, feeling his leg as it meets his hip, skin
and air getting hotter and hotter as his baited breath
meets my shoulder. His mouth follows, tongue tracing
my collarbone lightly.

I turn around, not able to stand the anticipation any
longer, and he pulls my head toward him and kisses me
full on the lips, our noses meeting before I tilt to
the side and our tongues begin to greet each other for
the first time. It's a slow, lengthy process, one that
I'm truly enjoying, and Mulder is too, considering the
length of hardness now pressed against my lower
stomach.

"Scully," he says against my lips, kissing me harder
this time, pulling my tongue deep into his mouth and
sucking on it. The continual warmth cascading down my
body threatens to drown me. He reaches around my back
and unsnaps my bra, sliding it down my arms and
pushing it to the floor while our kiss deepens even
more. Now I have his tongue, and what a fine tongue
it is as it swirls around my mouth.

Mulder runs his hands over my lower back and up, and
soon his soft touch is everywhere and anywhere; I can
feel the warmth of his hands as they run over my skin,
never stopping. Up my stomach, over my hardened
nipples to hear and feel my gasp against his mouth,
over my arms and down to hold my hands tightly in his.
 He pulls away slightly, opening his eyes as I do. We
exchange a glance that I could only describe as amused
and dazed.

I push my hands around his waist, sliding my fingers
under the towel and waiting for any objection to cross
his face. The side of his mouth lifts in a smile and
I push down against the towel with a smile in return. 
My heart jumps as it falls at our feet, my eyes caught
in his as I bite my lip and wonder what the hell I
should do next.

Then the amazing transforms into the incredible as he
takes my right hand and gently tugs on it, pulling it
lower until it's resting on his lower stomach right
above his cock. I have to concentrate on breathing,
for fear of passing out at the feeling of his hot
skin, of the idea of my hand being so near to him. I
slide my hand down and then tentatively wrap my
fingers around him, whimpering softly as I feel it
twitch under my soft palm. Mulder closes his eyes and
breathes out slowly, the look on his face bordering on
bliss. And I want more. More of that.

I slide my hand up the length of his shaft, smooth and
hot, gaining a little bit more composure as he
releases a satisfied moan and pushes into my hand. I
lean in, pressing my lips against his chest as I slide
my hand back down, starting a slow rhythm with his
hips as they move with me. I run my fingers over the
head, feeling the silkiness of it and then run them
under his cock, down to his balls for a light squeeze
that makes me get that electric twinge inside again.
I'm finding that pleasing him turns me on more than I
could ever imagine. And he groans, grabbing my wrist
and pulling it away.

"No more," he whispers urgently, and I drop my hand to
my side. His fingers find the button of my pants and
undo it, unzipping them and sliding them down before I
have a chance to argue. Not that I would. I step out
of them just in time for him to cup me through my
panties, his fingers working between my spread legs
and pressing up against me.

"Oh Mulder," I moan, feeling a hard throb begin where
his hand is gently kneading and working my flesh. A
rush of heat fills me up. I press against him more
and he kisses me hard, quieting my soft sounds.

His hands slide up to the waistband of my panties and
push them down as well, and I let him, my arousal
threatening to take over my body completely to the
point where I become a quivering pile of what used to
be Dana Scully.

Fingers move quickly up the insides of my thighs, and
I part them more, steadying myself back against the
counter as he slides a few gentle fingers across my
wet folds, pushing a little deeper with each stroke. 
They reach my clitoris and circle around it, dragging
wetness up from my opening and rubbing more urgently
as I arch my back and moan. His lips move down my
neck to my breasts and he latches on to a nipple,
sucking and biting.

Heat builds under his caress as he slides them down to
my opening, working me open with two gentle fingertips
and sliding easily inside me; I've never been this
wet, ever, and I whimper and clench my muscles around
them, subconsciously moving my hips back and forth as
he begins to slide his fingers in and out.

"You like that," he whispers as he lets my nipple pop
out of his mouth with a final suck. He moves his
mouth to the other and nibbles on it; I shiver and
moan, tingles traveling down my spine and hitting all
the spots he's touching inside of me. "You're so wet,
Scully..."

Oh God, and he talks dirty too...

"Yeah," I moan, feeling his thumb press against my
clitoris and rub in hard circles. Little fireworks 
begin to explode, building up and threatening to
overcome me. "Yeah, Mulder... do that."

I feel his mouth move down my stomach, past my belly
button, and realize he's now down on his knees and
spreading my legs further apart, and I know what he's
going to do and I really don't know if I can handle
it, as I whimper and feel his breath against my
thigh...

Mulder presses his lips against my flesh, pushing his
tongue deep through it and against my clitoris in a
fluid movement that renders me helplessly paralyzed. 
Each circle he runs around it brings me closer and
closer to orgasm, and with a few hard rubs against me
I'm gone, falling over the edge and panting his name
and God's name and every other possible word I can
manage as the waves of pleasure shoot up through me.

He hums a little against me as I calm, kissing the
insides of my thighs. I shudder, feeling a telltale 
twitch and afterglow spreading over my skin. Moving
his mouth up my body again, he finally gets to his
feet and pulls me upright, wrapping his arms around my
waist and kissing my neck. I sigh, melting into his
arms.

"Glad you came over," he says finally, resting his
lips against the top of my head. He kisses through my
hair and I sigh again, sliding my arms around his neck
and pressing my face into his chest.

"Mmmm... me too," I say with a smile, pulling away to
look up into his eyes. He smiles back and kisses my
forehead. I'm warm, and happy, and feeling pretty
damn good.

"So... do you want me to make some bagels?" he asks,
rubbing my lower back and kissing me softly. "You
could go get... do whatever you need to do... in the
bathroom or whatever."

I laugh a little, smiling up at him. What a man. I
could get used to this. "That sounds good... sorry
about that whole cream cheese thing."

He grins a little more. "You'll just have to come
back tomorrow morning with the right kind, that's
all."

I could definitely get used to this.

end.