Post ep fic--Roadrunners.DSR
Vignette. A Scully Angstorama.
Rating: NC-17. .
For my fellow lovers of Doggett in blatant defiance to those who hate us.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. They belong to CC and 1013.
Summary: Can one bodily invasion heal
We left the hospital in Utah and drove to his lodgings: a Motel 6 with an ice machine down the hall and orange curtains hanging in the windows. The bedspread was thin and scratchy against my skin when I lay down on it. Fatigue heavy as an iron weight made me sleepy. I knew he'd stand watch over me; He'd drive away the demon cultists should they try to exact revenge for the death of their messiah.
It didn't occur to me to ask why we were sharing the room.
I woke later with pain between my shoulder blades and the sensation of being watched. He was sitting in a chair just as I thought he would be. Watching me. Watching me with those eyes.
His eyes were what I noticed first. Eyes, bluer than anything I'd ever seen had bored into me. I know you, they said. I know who you are.
He's too normal, too noble for me to fall in love with. He's damaged, but not badly enough. He's not one of the walking wounded as I am. I'm no damn good for him, so of course he fell in love with me.
He rose gracefully and crossed the room to sit quietly at my side. He waited for me to tell him what I wanted now that I was awake. Was I hungry or thirsty?
No, I said.
He reached out and tenderly cupped my cheek in his enormous hand.
I told him I would hurt him, that I was in love with another man. Nothing, I said, could come of this, of us.
He nodded solemnly, and took me into his arms. Yes, he said, I know that.
I know how you feel, he said as he kissed my forehead. I know you love someone else he said against my lips. Breathing into my neck, he echoed my own words. I'm no good for you either.
But I didn't believe that.
I didn't believe it because he was finer than anyone I'd ever known, more giving, more loving than I ever hoped for.
His goodness radiated from him like the sun. He will burn me with it. He will set me on fire. He will destroy me.
Maybe that's why I was cruel to him in the beginning. If I let him tear down the vast walls of denial, anger, and pain I've
carefully built around me, I will be a useless creature. It will make plain the stupidity in my life and the waste. The awful, terrible, wasted time. I can't allow that.
But I didn't resist him when he carefully unbuttoned my blouse and lightly ran a finger inside the seam. His mouth followed the finger, giving soft, wet pressure. This put my nose in his hair. He smelled of shampoo, cologne, and gentle dignity
I almost laughed when he folded the blouse, but I remembered he has reverence for such things. My things.
Rough fingers caressed my shoulders and arms. He traced each rib as if he were mapping the universe. All the while his mouth was on me, so hot I was sure my skin would blister.
He carefully avoided the torn flesh on my back. Once he brushed too close, making me jump. He told my belly he was sorry.
I haven't told him about the baby. And I never will.
One day I'll walk into the basement and he'll notice the unnatural swelling at my waist. He'll never comment on it or congratulate me. He'll let it come up in conversation, and he'll speak as if he'd known all along. He is a gentleman.
He moved back up my body and unhooked my bra. I made a quiet gasp. Hormones have made my breasts tender. As if sensing this, he dropped kisses on the swollen flesh and carefully gauged my responses. When I didn't protest, he took a nipple into his mouth. He suckled gently at first, but increased the pressure when I asked him to. I made an incoherent sound and tightened every muscle in my body.
Wetness began to pool between my legs and I had to take in great mouthfuls of air just to breathe.
Good?, he whispered against me.
He gently turned me around and kissed the crook of my neck before easing me down onto the orange spread. I heard the rustling sounds of clothing being removed. His tie made a high pitched scraping noise when he whipped it off.
All sound stopped when the last garment was gone. Big hands slid up my legs and darted beneath my hips. Deft fingers removed my slacks and underwear. I couldn't see behind me, but I knew those were folded too.
He hesitated, surveying his work, perhaps. I wondered what he saw. I wondered what he didn't.
I wondered no more when he began to trail kisses up my legs, his hands preceding his efforts. He was preparing me, arousing me. My legs separated of their own volition,
An undignified moan was torn from my lips when his tongue darted between my legs. A finger slid in, and rubbed against the ridge of flesh making me mindless.
He got up and positioned himself behind me. The first push was painful, but glorious, filled with splendid sensation. With great deliberation, he set the pace to be slow and languorous. He seemed to take great
satisfaction in eliciting noises of approval from me.
Suddenly the need to see him was overpowering.
I pulled away from him and he
grunted when he slipped out. Heedless of the pain in my spine, I rolled over, invited him back.
He protested at first, murmuring about my back, but I was having none of it. I shook my head and leaned forward. His erection bobbed in front of me. The look in my eye made him compliant.
With the greatest care, he eased me down and entered me again. Now that we were facing each other, I could look in those eyes. I could see myself again.
The tenderness that dwelt there caused tears to well up and spill over. He kissed them away when he began to move.
I'd always thought there was something unbearably erotic about this position; to be covered in flesh, to watch the joining of two bodies and the pleasure that came from it.
The joy on his face was heart breaking, leaked out of him like water. I could taste it on his lips, feel in his thrusts.
He was making me care. I did not want to care. I did not want to feel anything for this man. I...
The orgasm took me by surprise, caused me to cry out with a plaintive shout. It seemed to go on and on; reverberated off the cheap motel paneling.
When I could see again, he'd rolled onto his back while I lay boneless on top.
Did you...I started.
Of course, he said.
He kissed me over and over, pouring more love into my empty soul. I'd thought I was a broken vessel, incapable of holding love.
But I was wrong. I could fall in love. He'd given that back to me. My love for him was awful in its beauty.
I listened to the steady beat of his heart, the quiet of his breathing, finding them a soothing lullaby.
Do you want to be loved? he asked me.
Yes, I said. All useless creatures do
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