Summary: Early S5. Erotically-charged parasite checks.
Read on AO3 here.
Another case, another road trip, another unexplained phenomenon.
This one had led them to a small town at the edge of a vast forest - a forest that the locals believed held the key to recent mysterious deaths. The most popular theory, and the one Mulder argued was most plausible, was that recent logging activity had uncovered something deadly. However, until they could either prove or debunk said theory, they were stuck there.
As night fell, the forest was plunged into darkness, eerily still and shrouded in silence. The waning crescent of the moon cast a mere sliver of light, barely enough to make out much under the thick cover of the evergreens.
Nestled there amongst the trees was a hunting lodge, the agents’ home for the night. With its cozy interior of wood-paneled walls and rustic decor, it was almost possible to forget the dangerous unknown that lurked in the shadows.
Scully glanced down at her watch. 1.45am. The fire crackled quietly in the corner of the room, the only real sound as the unlikely group pored over files and photographs.
“Alright, folks. I’m calling it a day.” The burly sheriff sighed, rubbing his hand over tired eyes. “We’ll head back out in the morning, there’s nothing more we can do now.”
He stood, pausing to give them a somber look.
“Any of you get in trouble, you shout.”
There were a few weary acknowledgements in response. The reminder of the danger they were facing was entirely unnecessary. The sheriff gave one final nod to the room, readjusted his belt, and disappeared upstairs. That left just Mulder, Scully, a local journalist, a park ranger and a guy who worked at the nearest gas station.
Not long after, the others followed.
“He’s right.” The ranger tossed the pictures he’d been looking at onto the table. “This is bullshit. I’m going to bed.”
“Agreed.” The gas station attendant said.
“Don’t stay up too late, you two.” The journalist waved to the agents.
Scully looked up from the file in her lap and gave him a polite smile. She couldn’t promise that.
Footsteps retreated into the hallway and the stairs creaked before it was silent once again. Scully glanced over at her partner. This was the first time they’d been alone since arriving in town that morning. His stance mirrored her own as they sat cross-legged on the carpet, his floppy hair falling in his face and the shadow of his jaw illuminated by the soft light of the fire.
“Mulder.” She said, and he met her gaze instantly. “What do you really think happened to the deputy?”
He shrugged.
“Exactly what the sheriff told us, Scully. You saw the marks on his spine.”
The deputy had been the third victim in as many weeks to be found dead in the forest, face-down in the undergrowth. Autopsies had revealed strange welts on their backs, like something had been trying to escape. The cause of death was still a mystery. To Scully, it appeared as though their bodies had been devoured from the inside out.
“But it makes no sense how this parasite moves between hosts. The three victims have no relation to one another, in fact it’s not clear whether they ever met.”
“It’s a small town, Scully. They’ve met.” Mulder raised a brow. “But they didn’t get it through close contact. They got it from here, from the forest. The answer has to be out there.”
He gestured to the window, to the seemingly infinite darkness just outside.
Part of Scully wanted to roll her eyes at his insistence, at his typically confident belief in his theories. But the other part of her, admittedly a far larger portion, felt a warmth rush through her, a thrill unlike any other.
Two months ago, she was laying in a hospital bed, watching Mulder leave for what she truly believed might be the last time. The fear of never seeing him again, of him continuing their journey alone, was so close to a reality. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was here now, beside him again.
Her cancer had revealed to her just how much she relied on him, on their work. It had kept her going. And then, when it couldn’t, he had been there for her, undeterred by Bill’s glares, smiling down at her despite it all. The press of his lips to her cheeks, her hands, was a lifeline in the face of uncertainty.
Presently, sitting there across from him, she had a new-found sense of appreciation for this man and his predictability. There were other feelings too, ones that had lay dormant for a while but were slowly re-emerging as her strength returned and her body thrummed with life once again. She feared that the flush on her cheeks might give those particular feelings away if she stared at him much longer.
“You okay, Scully?” Mulder asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern at her silent gaze.
She’d been caught.
“I’m fine.” She looked away and started fussing with the paper around her before standing, shuffling awkwardly. “I think I’ll head up too.”
He nodded and rose to his feet, apparently ready for bed too, much to Scully’s surprise. She sometimes wondered if he ever slept at all. Without a word, he followed as she ascended the stairs.
The lodge they were staying at had four bedrooms. The journalist was in a single room whilst one of the twin rooms had been assigned to the sheriff and ranger and the other to the gas station guy and Mulder. As the only woman, the sheriff had been insistent that Scully take the double room.
Scully went to push open her door when she heard Mulder call out to her quietly. She turned to face him. He had his back to the door of his own room, watching her cautiously. At her expectant expression, he crossed the small space between them.
“I don’t feel comfortable leaving you, Scully.” He admitted, his voice low as not to wake the others.
“I can take care of myself, Mulder.”
She opened the door and stepped inside but he was right behind her.
“What if you can’t?”
“Mulder, if I start to feel unwell, I’ll let you know.”
“But that’s the thing, Scully.” He was still speaking quietly but his tone carried a sense of urgency. “You won’t know until it’s too late.”
She wasn’t stupid, she knew he was being overly-protective because of what had happened to her, still so fresh in both their minds. Arguing with him was the last thing she wanted right now but she wasn’t sure if her reassurance would be enough.
“Mulder.” She sighed. “If any of us were going to become infected, it would most likely be you. You were the one jumping in ditches, climbing up trees and poking around in that gunk.”
He was silent, his eyes falling to the floor. For a moment, she thought maybe she had convinced him. Then he looked up and the intensity in his gaze almost knocked her over.
“I can’t lose you, Scully.” He said. “I won’t.”
It was like a punch to the gut.
“Okay.” She whispered. “Okay.”
She swallowed, slightly fearful of the answer to the question she was about to ask.
“Do you want to check me?”
He nodded, face unreadable.
“Okay, just- um.”
“You can check me first.” He offered. “If that would make you more comfortable.”
Nothing about this would be comfortable but at least it might give her some more time to mentally prepare for his reciprocation. She could already feel those new-but-not-so-new feelings swirling in her gut, visions of the last time they had done this playing out in her mind.
A storage locker in the arctic, the soft expanse of his skin beneath her palms, his solid hand on the back of her neck. They hadn’t even ventured further than the shoulders and it was enough to plague her fantasies for months. They hardly even knew each other back then. That was before they had been forced apart and come back to each other like magnets over and over again, before she had fucked someone else and thought about him, before she nearly kissed someone else thinking it was him, before she almost died without telling him how she really felt.
“Sure.” She agreed, hoping she sounded more certain than she was.
She turned the lamp on beside her bed, casting the room in a warm light. It was just enough for the purpose of what they were about to do without being too harsh. Although harsh might’ve been better, more clinical. Getting nearly naked with Mulder in a softly-lit bedroom felt like crossing a line.
“We only need to check each other’s backs. Just the bits we can’t do ourselves.” He said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.
He’d never had any qualms about changing in front of her and now here he was again, stripping down with zero hesitation. Was he that keen to feel her touch? Did he share the same desires as her? Or was he simply unbothered?
“You’ll need to be firm though.” He continued, pulling her from her musings. “We don’t know how deep this thing can bury.”
He was dropping his clothes onto an ottoman at the foot of her bed as he removed them, revealing more and more skin. He was facing away from Scully so thankfully he couldn’t see the way her eyes were drawn to the muscles rippling in his back.
When he was down to just his boxer briefs and socks, he threw her a look over his shoulder.
“Ready when you are.”
Scully stepped closer, willing her heart to stop racing. She was checking him for a deadly parasite so that he wouldn’t get eaten alive during his sleep. It was decidedly unsexual. But when she entered his personal space, the scent of his cologne and something else entirely him encompassed her, drawing her to him, and she felt her knees go weak. If the parasite didn’t kill her, this just might.
“Bend down a little.” She instructed quietly.
He did just that, widening his stance and shifting himself slightly lower. This was better, she thought, now she could reach his head. She’d checked this part of him a thousand times over the years, looking for bumps and bruises while he of course insisted that he was fine. This would be a nice, neutral place to start, she thought.
She ran her fingers through his hair, focusing on the task at hand to avoid thinking about what came next. Lean muscles beneath her fingertips, the dip of his spine, those long, toned runner’s legs.
“Mm.” He hummed in his throat when her nails unintentionally scraped his scalp. She froze, the sound sending heat straight to her core. Her cheeks reddened. So much for neutral.
“Your head’s clear.” She announced. “You can stand up straight again.”
She took a deep breath, now eye-level with his shoulders. Slowly, she reached out, pressing her thumbs into the flesh of his neck, gently at first and then firmer like he’d said, sliding them down and across. Moving slightly lower, she repeated the action.
“That feels nice.” He said. She couldn’t tell if she was imagining the hint of roughness in his voice. “If the G-woman career ever fails, you could make a pretty good masseuse, Scully.”
“Thanks.” She blushed, grateful he couldn’t see her reaction to the praise.
She continued feeling her way along his shoulders. It was probably a more thorough inspection than strictly necessary, and whilst she had started out with the intention of getting this over and done with as quickly as possible, she found herself getting lost in the feel of him. His skin was so warm and pliant beneath her touch, it was almost hypnotic. The urge to press her lips against him struck her, unbidden.
He groaned suddenly when her thumb encountered a knot and her heart leapt into her throat.
“Sorry.” She whispered.
“No, it’s okay.” He replied, definitely huskier now. “Feels good.”
He rolled his shoulders a few times and tilted his head side-to-side, working out the kinks. When he stilled again, she tentatively resumed her inspection.
The silence hung heavy in the air as she reached his lower back, pressing her fingers into the skin just above his waistband, staring at the dimples there. Though they hadn’t discussed it, she knew he wasn’t expecting her to start kneading his ass. She let herself imagine it though, just for a moment, her gaze dropping to the round flesh defined by the tight cotton of his underwear.
What would it feel like, she wondered. She pictured him above her, strong arms either side of her head, dark eyes staring down into her own as he moved between her legs, her fingers digging into his ass and pulling him against her, forcing him deeper, harder.
“Scully?”
“Sorry.” She quickly apologized, realizing she had been totally spaced out and tracing the same patch of skin on his hip over and over. “You’re clear.”
“Okay.” He sighed, sounding relieved.
“I’ll do your legs next.”
He looked over his shoulder, probably to ask if she wanted to change positions, but she was already dropping to her knees behind him. She heard him make a choked little sound in his throat but she did her best to ignore it, just as she tried to ignore the fact that his ass was now right there.
She started with his calves, thumbs running over the firm muscle. Above her, she could tell that he was holding his breath. He would go silent for a few moments and then release a shaky exhale. Sometimes his breath caught on a slight groan and she’d shiver in response.
When she reached his thighs, she felt his hamstrings twitching beneath the pads of her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted his fists clenching and unclenching and her stomach bottomed out at the thought of him being just as aroused as she was.
She wondered if he turned around whether there’d be a bulge in his boxers. The image of it had her feeling dizzy. She wished he would turn around. See her on her knees before him. Gently thread his fingers through her hair, brush his clothed cock against her cheek before slipping it free and guiding it into her mouth. She knew it was filthy, but she no longer cared.
Her thoughts were spiraling fast. She couldn’t remember ever wanting him this badly before. She felt feral with the urge to touch and taste, to have her mouth on every inch of him. Her clit throbbed and she clenched her thighs together. If she had ever had any doubts about whether her sex drive would return to her, those worries were certainly quashed now. It was back with a vengeance.
“Are you done?” Mulder’s voice interrupted and she blinked, jolted back to the sharp reality of the situation they were in.
“Yeah.” She swallowed. “Yes, you’re all clear.”
She sat back on her haunches, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her mind, while he grabbed his vest and pants and slipped them back on, keeping his back to her all the while.
As he fiddled with his buttons and zipper, she got back to her feet, feeling a little unsteady.
“Okay.” He turned to her, his face strangely unreadable. “Your turn.”
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