saga/title/fandom: Gender Bent
rating/genre: (NC-17) - romanace
warnings: het, explicit sexual content, conspirarcy theories
summary: Brother Andrew's touch lingers on. (Mulder/Scully (MSR))
comments/disclaimers: Not mine, never will be, but I wish I'd had them back in the day. The series would have been a lot different. Visit all my fics at the little home that XochiLuvr built. http://www.mimicsmusings.com Your depravity levels may vary. Spoilers: Mid-Gender Bender - written for the Fandomonium Virtual Season of Smut Challenge.Setting: Between the time they're run off the Kindred farm until the next scene where they're sitting in the car, drinking coffee. Archive: I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral myself. Anyone else who wants it is free to filch at will. Thanks: To Cin for snake-strike-quick beta, a discerning eye and laughter in all the right places. You're very good for my ego. Feedback is printed out, fawned over and stroked to tatters at email@example.com
Mulder stumbled over a tree root and nearly fell -- again. It took every bit of dexterity he possessed to remain upright on the rain-slick leaves. If Scully hadn't been tucked under his arm, helping him to balance, they'd both have ended up on the ground a long time ago.
He shifted his arm around her shoulders and got a better grip. She was still pretty out of it after being sick and he was hoping to see the car soon. Half-dragging his partner through the dark, wet forest hadn't exactly been on his schedule for the evening.
The Kindred had made their feelings very clear back at the farmhouse. It was a good thing they were a non-violent cult. Mulder still wanted to know what Brother Andrew had done to Scully, but he figured it wasn't worth the potential unpleasantness to stick around and demand answers. He would get her to a hospital as soon as possible and have her checked out.
"Mmmm..." Scully pulled away from his support. It was the first response she'd shown since he'd gathered her up in his arms and hustled her down the path.
Was she going to be sick again?
Her eyes still looked glazed over, but she was glancing around, taking in their surroundings.
"You feeling better now?" he asked.
It took a moment, but her eyes finally tracked upward to his face. It looked like she was staring at his lips, but maybe she was just too tired to tilt her head back farther.
He waited, but she didn't say anything else. Her gaze was locked so intently on his mouth, Mulder wondered if he had mud on his skin. He nonchalantly swiped his hand across his lips, but there was nothing unusual there.
He was just about to start walking again when Scully's fingers began burrowing between the buttons on his shirt. She popped the button above her hand and reached inside farther. She didn't seem to still be shaken after her mauling, but maybe she needed his warmth as reassurance.
He could give her this. They were friends. They supported and comforted each other. He wouldn't let himself get turned on by the scratch of her nails around his navel. He wasn't going to think about her hand caressing hot circles on his abdomen. Keeping a lookout for possible danger would take his mind off the fact that her fingers were digging under his waistband.
What the hell?
Scully was not only headed where no one had been in a long time, but he suddenly realized that she was rubbing against him in a very suggestive manner. Apparently she was looking for something more than a little comfort.
He tried to pull away but her hand was firmly wedged under his belt. "Whoa, Scully! Isn't that getting a bit personal?"
"Mmmmmm...." Her other hand reached for his zipper. He grabbed it and held on, trying to regain some control of the situation.
This wasn't like Scully at all. The woman he'd been working with all year wouldn't allow herself this kind of familiarity unless she wasn't in her right mind. She was alive because he'd rescued her from Brother Andrew before they did the mattress mambo. But what were the residual effects of the Kindred's touch? So far, everybody who might have come in contact with one of their people had died. Did breaking the connection leave residual pheromones in the system? Was Scully still under the influence of the Kindred aphrodisiac?
It looked like the answer to that question was "yes." The fingers inside his shirt wriggled under his belt, trying to reach lower.
She licked her lips and Mulder noticed that she was panting. Well, so was he for that matter. He was male, and in the hands of a beautiful woman who appeared to have carnal designs on his body. Gentlemanly intentions weren't going to be enough to keep the south from rising anymore. The best he could do was to get them back to the car and out of the elements. Maybe he could figure out a way to deal with the situation once they weren't in the open, being drenched by the dripping trees.
He directed her captive hand to the outside of his shirt and got them started walking again. She struggled for a moment until she found that she could still touch him and move. It was awkward, but at least they were in motion.
"Come on, Scully. The car can't be far away now."
Mulder hoped he was telling the truth. He wasn't completely sure they were on the right path, but it was the only one he could see in the watery light under the trees.
Since he was now occupied by trying to keep them moving, Scully was having more success evading his hands. When he stumbled and let her go, she managed to get his belt unbuckled and the zipper lowered. He pulled her other hand out of his shirt before she could take advantage of the looser fit. She mewled in protest, let go of his zipper, and switched hands so she could jam one down the back of his pants.
Great. She was groping his ass. He might as well stop pretending that this wasn't turning him on.
Thank goodness the waistband of his pants was still fastened or they'd be down around his knees. He prayed he could find the car before she managed to get a hand inside his fly. The fact that he was walking faster had deflected her attempts so far, but she still seemed pretty determined to feel him up.
Those Kindred cooties really packed a wallop.
After a few more minutes of skidding on the leaf-strewn ground, Mulder saw light glinting off metal up ahead.
Hallelujah! The car at last. He breathed a sigh of relief only to suck it back in again as Scully dove for his pants button. He headed her off just in time.
"Look, Scully," he said in the kind of voice parents use to distract unruly toddlers. "There's the car. Let's get inside where it's dry. Okay?"
She hummed in reply but didn't stop kneading his ass while he hustled her over to the waiting vehicle. He debated between putting her in the front or rear seat while he tried to fish the keys from his pocket without giving her another shot at his fly. By the time he had the keys in his hand, he'd decided on the front seat because he could not only use the seat belt to strap her in place, he could keep an eye on her. He wouldn't be able to see what she was doing in the back and he didn't need the added suspense of waiting for her to break free and jump him. Granted, lashing her to the front seat might not stop her, either, but it offered better odds. He only knew there was no way he could drive back to town if she kept trying to palm his package.
It wasn't easy to get the car door open with Scully clinging to him like a wet leaf, but he managed. She whimpered in protest again when he pulled her hand out of the back of his pants and pushed her away. She kept trying to grab his crotch as he steered her into the passenger seat and sat her down. The next part was going to be a little tricky. He either had to lean over her and lock the seatbelt in, or get in himself and then lean across her to snag the belt from inside the car. He opted to pull the strap all the way out with one hand and hook it over the gear shift while swatting her marauding fingers away with the other. He'd belt her in as soon as he tucked all her limbs into the car and shut the door.
It only took him a moment to run around to the driver's side and climb in. She was already straining toward him and managed to get one hand beneath his butt as he sat down. He pulled it out from under him and pushed her upright with his shoulder. Then he used the other hand to snap the seatbelt into the lock.
"Awwww." Her face crumpled into a frown and her chin quivered as if she were going to cry.
He leaned away from her as she tried in vain to touch him. The belt kept locking up every time she lunged against it and there wasn't enough slack to let her do more than scrabble at his shoulder or leg. He wasn't fooled by her inability to reach him, though. She was evidently still so befuddled by whatever was in her bloodstream that it hadn't dawned on her to simply unlock the seatbelt. She wasn't capable of thinking beyond her own pressing need at the moment. But he had every confidence in her ability to work through any puzzle, even when tanked up on super-strength pheromones. She'd figure it out eventually.
It wasn't long before she stopped struggling and flopped back into her seat. The sound of fabric against fabric was loud in the car as she rubbed her legs together and twisted fitfully. "MmmmmMulder..." It was half moan, half sigh and the sexiest thing he'd ever heard her say.
Had she been trying to say his name all this time? The possibility made his dick jump. He adjusted his crotch as unobtrusively as possible but her eyes still followed the movement of his fingers. She licked her lips and he had to stifle the urge to readjust.
What should he do? *Should* he do anything? Her condition was obviously a result of the Kindred's touch, but how long would it last? Did she just need to wait it out? From the look of things, she'd have a long wait. Did she *need* to have sex to clear it out of her system? That made sense based on what they knew of the previous victims, but he couldn't even consider it. They were partners, not lovers, no matter how often the thought had crossed his mind recently. He respected Scully too much to take advantage of her in this condition.
And what if he didn't? Would she continue to grope him all the way back to their motel? Would she jump the first pimply kid she saw on the street?
It seemed like a good bet considering the fact that she hadn't stopped writhing and moaning since he'd put her in the car. She kept rubbing her hands over her own body but couldn't seem to attain any relief. If he took her back to town like this, he had a pretty good idea what would happen the minute the car door opened.
He needed to do *something*. Since they couldn't have regular sex, then he'd have to be creative.
Oral sex? Too intimate. If she remembered anything about this, she'd be mortified to know his face had been between her legs.
What else? Since flat-out sex wasn't a consideration, that only left his -- his hands.
Yeah. He could jack her off.
Mulder felt his cock swell from the mental image that conjured up -- his hands down her pants, her sweet face twisted in ecstasy, his name rasping from her lips as she came.
No! This wasn't going to work if he let his fantasies run rampant. He needed to distance himself. He couldn't be permitted to derive any personal gratification from the situation. This wasn't for his own perverted pleasure. He was simply giving a friend a hand.
Shit. Bad choice of words. Manual stimulation. That's what Scully would call it. She'd do the same thing for him if their positions were reversed. Wouldn't she?
The thought of her sliding his hard dick between her soft hands was almost too much for him. He didn't know if he'd be able to do this without coming in his pants. That would take care of his rapidly-increasing problem, but still....
Distance. Distance. Focus on creating distance. He wasn't making love to her, he was helping out. It was no different than holding her hair back when she was being sick outside the farmhouse. Well, maybe a *little* different. Maybe a lot different, actually, but if he could think of it as a medical procedure, he'd be okay. Concentrate on providing effective treatment in order to promote a proper cure.
Mulder sighed. The cure going to hurt him more than it did her.
His mind made up, he would approach the task with a dispassionate eye, like any new case. Study the situation, identify the most critical elements and determine a plan of action.
First element -- Scully was sitting on the area he needed to access. Well, that was easy enough to fix.
He exited the car, leaving the door ajar, and hurried around to the passenger side. She was staring at his vacant spot when he opened her door and hit the level to recline the seat cushion. Scully flopped flat on her back with a startled "Oops!" Mulder was already climbing into the driver's side by the time she'd caught on to his actions and turned to her closed door.
Okay. Plan of action -- get the best angle to do the job.
He thought about it for a moment, trying to visualize how his fingers would be positioned, considering the possibility of muscle cramp if it took a while to flush all the sexed-up bugs from her system. He finally settled on reclining his own seat slightly so he could watch her face for clues to guide him without having to bend backwards. Using his right hand would probably be most comfortable. The angle would allow him to slide his palm flat on her abdomen while affording his fingers the best position for maximum contact. The left hand would venture nowhere near his crotch, or any parts adjacent thereto, I solemnly swear, never happen, no way, no how.
And why did all this calm, cool deliberation make him feel like a slobbering, trench-coat-wearing flasher?
Because he was going to manually stimulate his lovely, intelligent, sexy partner until she either recovered from whatever was ailing her, or until his arm fell off. And the longer he sat, trying to pretend he wasn't going to do what he was going to do, the longer she continued to suffer from the effects of the ailment.
Just get on with it.
He popped the side lever on his seat and tilted back three clicks. He leaned toward the middle of the car and reached for the waistband of her pants. He opened the button and gingerly slid the zipper down, teasing the sides of her slacks apart as much as he could and pulling her blouse out of the way. When his fingers brushed the bare skin of her stomach, Scully arched high out of her seat, crying a startled "AH!" into the humid air of the car.
God! Mulder jumped back and banged his elbow on the door handle. His heart pounded in his throat as she slowly settled down again.
Apparently she was hyper-sensitive. Maybe that wasn't a completely bad thing. She might be able to rid herself of the Kindred toxin more easily once he was able to touch her in the right place. But he would have to stop trying to be gentle. Any touch at all was going to set her off, so he might as well move quickly and get it over with. He'd prefer not to grope around inside her pants, though. Having the sights and sounds of this night locked in his head was going to be bad enough without the sense memory of her curls against his fingers, too. Between the slacks and the panties -- that was as far as he'd go. Lord forgive him for even doing that.
He extended his hand over her body again, hovering close but taking care not to touch her. A deep, steadying breath and he was as ready as he was going to be.
It was now or never.
Fast as a striking snake, he plunged his hand inside her pants, skirting over the elastic of her underwear and down between her legs. He cupped his fingers around her as she reared up in the seat, mouth open on a silent scream, eyes huge, shocked, breath coming in gulping gasps. There was a strange sound in the air, a sibilant "shhh, shhh" that appeared to calm her. She laid back down, accepting the touch of his hand in her most intimate place. It took Mulder a moment to realize the noise he heard was coming from him. In spite of his desperate search for clinical detachment, his brain still sought to provide comfort.
Her trust could catch him unaware at the strangest times. Even after succumbing to who-knows-what kind of chemical reaction, she continued to count on him to watch out for her.
He'd try to make sure she never regretted it.
Slowly, carefully, Mulder began to move his hand, allowing her to adjust to the sensations. He didn't want to drag it out any longer than needed, but he also didn't want to seem indifferent to her sensitivity. Gradually, he increased the movement of his fingers, pressing down with the heel of his hand, crooking his palm and scratching with his nails. He watched as she shuddered through one orgasm after another. Her mouth pursed into a strained circle, soft, high-pitched "Oh"s of delighted surprise wavered into the air around them. He couldn't help drinking in her wide, dilated eyes; her head, thrashing back and forth in sensual abandon; her fists, clenched around the seat cushion, nails digging into the foam cover. This was what Scully looked like in the throes of passion. This is what he would see if he were inside her, stroking them both to ecstatic heights of bliss. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her, but that probably wasn't a good idea. For one thing, it would make what he was doing so much more personal. He needed to keep his perspective. Trying to make this about love would make things messy later on. He was just there to help. A special kind of service, as it were. Besides, the Kindred might spread their poison as much through saliva as through touch. He really had no way of knowing for sure, and if he caught this nookie disease, too, they'd be in seriously deep shit. He was having enough trouble denying himself release without the help of hyper-charged hormones.
After fifteen minutes, he started to wonder how much longer she could stand the stimulation. She definitely seemed to be getting some relief, but it didn't look like there was any diminishing of her need. In fact, the increasing volume of her cries seemed to indicate that she was building toward some kind of major event.
He seriously considered stopping what he was doing and hauling her off to the nearest hospital. Before he could make up his mind, Scully's wildly darting eyes suddenly locked with his and Mulder knew a moment of panic. He'd never seen her look at him that way before. Feral. Ravenous. Like a starving person gazing at the only speck of food available.
Before he could process what was happening, she'd unlatched her seatbelt and leaned sideways into his lap. He looked down and realized that she'd capitalized on a major strategical error on his part. He'd been so busy getting her into the car and deciding what to do next that he'd forgotten to zip up again. His belt was hanging open, the sides of his fly gaping in invitation.
Dammit dammit, STUPID!
Scully didn't seem to be as worried as he'd been about taking advantage. She was already dragging his steel-hard cock out of his pants while he was still trying to sort out the sequence of events. He hissed as she gripped the base of his dick, leaned over and engulfed him with her hot, wet mouth.
"Nuh -- No, Scu -- No, no, stop -- Scul --"
Godgodgodgodgodgoodgoodsogoodsogood it felt so good so perfect so Scully please make it last make it last make it last not gonna last can't last no no nononononono....
He wasn't supposed to get pleasure from this he wasn't he shouldn't but he couldn't help it he just couldn't help it not with her hot mouth sliding and her strong tongue flicking and her lips stretched so wide over him and the noises she was making the humming and moaning and wet wet sounds of sex of sex of sex with Scully Scully Scully...
His hand was still inside her pants, trapped by her bent hips as she slurped up and down, up and down his painfully hard length. He didn't want to come he didn't he didn't but he knew he couldn't hold on. He tried but it was hopeless. And Scully obviously hadn't had enough yet, needed more, so much more, from him. All he could give her was his touch. He wasn't allowed to give her anything else, not yet. So he did what he could, grinding the heel of his hand against her pubic bone, hoping he could hit the right spot, jamming his fingers as far as he could reach between her legs, pressing the swollen flesh under her soggy panties. He reached around with his other hand and palmed her breast, squeezing the firm mound, feeling the hard peak inside her bra as he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.
He hoped it would be enough. It was all he had to give.
Her shriek of release was muffled by his cock, but she didn't let go of him. Instead, she sucked harder as she cried out her pleasure, coming around him, under him, against his fingers, shaking and keening, her moans and screams vibrating against his engorged penis until he couldn't hold back any longer.
He let go of her breast and tried to push her head away, but she wouldn't move. He'd never yet forced a woman to swallow while giving head, but it looked like he wouldn't have any choice. There was no way he could stop it. He could feel every one of her teeth on his skin, her soft lips, the swirl of her tongue as it ran over the veins, her mouth pulling at the head of his prick, sucking and sucking and driving him mad. His fingers and toes tingled. Sweat rolled down the side of his face as he gasped each breath. His gut clenched in readiness. He closed his eyes, the better to experience every wonderfully painful second.
She cupped his balls through his slacks and stars exploded behind his eyes. It was like free falling. Like sky diving. Like rocketing into the stratosphere without breath enough to shout. It was the most fantastic feeling in the world.
And it was over far too soon.
When he could breathe again, Mulder opened his eyes and looked down. Scully was lying quietly with her head in his lap, nuzzling his softening penis and apparently no longer under the Kindred's spell. The close proximity of her face to his cock jolted him to his senses like a deluge of icy rain water down the back of his neck.
He gently helped her back into her seat. Straightening her body out relieved the stranglehold on his other hand, so he was able to remove it from her pants and shake the circulation back into it. Then he pulled his slacks outward at the zipper until his flaccid penis slipped back inside the fly. For some reason, being covered again made him feel more in control. It probably involved some Freudian shit about sexual vulnerability, but he didn't care about that at the moment. All he knew was that he needed to get out of the car -- right NOW.
Mulder opened the door, clambered awkwardly into the damp night on rubbery legs, then slammed it shut again. He checked to make sure he was securely tucked out of the way before zipping shut. The unbuckled belt clanked as he paced beside the car, three steps forward, three steps back along the side of the door. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at his disheveled clothes.
What the hell had just happened here?
A bark of laughter burst from his mouth, cracking off the surrounding trees.
He knew what had happened. It hadn't been *that* long. But what had just HAPPENED? This wasn't supposed to be about his pleasures, his needs and desires. He'd made a conscious decision to help out a friend in unusual circumstances. Had Scully also made a conscious choice when she'd --
Nope. Best not to go there, really. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Not yet. The sensations were too new, too raw, too wonderful to be put aside so easily. He wanted the chance to savor every detail, lock it into his memory in a special place so he could take it out from time to time and revel in it again.
But he didn't have that option right now. He didn't even know what condition she was in -- whether his "help" had rid her system of the Kindred toxin or made matters worse.
He bent down and looked inside the car. She seemed to be asleep, leaning against the passenger door. For all he knew, she could be unconscious, but she looked okay. Her breathing was even and deep, like she had just dozed off.
This was good. Right? She was probably sleeping off the after effects of the... thing they just did. He didn't want to name it for fear his body would spring into action again.
Mulder stood and tucked his shirt back into his pants. He buckled his belt, pleased to note that his legs felt solid again and his heart had stopped racing. All systems seemed to be in stand-down mode. It was probably safe for him to get back in the car and get them the hell out of Dodge.
At least he wouldn't be driving all the way back to town with his boner bumping against the steering wheel.
He scrubbed his hands over his face and froze.
Jesus! The smell of her was still on his fingers.
An involuntary inhale was underway before he could stop it. He held his breath as soon as he realized what he was doing, but it was too late. Scully's scent was now swirling through his nasal passages and into his lungs. It prickled in his sinuses and exploded into his brain. This was *Scully*! He'd never be able to forget her fragrance no matter how hard he tried.
So what was the point in trying?
He took another healthy whiff, then yanked open the car door and climbed into the seat. They really needed to get out of there. He had to wash his hands before he sniffed all the skin off his fingers.
If he was really lucky, he might get a chance to experience that scent again sometime, a little closer and in more detail. Until then, memory would have to be enough.
Mulder started the car and looked over at his oblivious partner. She didn't move when he gently zipped up her slacks and belted her back in, but she didn't feel cold or clammy either. It looked like she was down for the count, sleeping off the endorphin rush. He put the car in reverse and backed around until they were pointed toward town again.
Scully slept beside him all the way back.
Mulder shook the water from his hands and stared at himself in the men's room mirror.
She didn't remember. She said she was fine, not sick or feeling ill at all, didn't want to go to the hospital, but she couldn't remember a thing.
As they headed back into town, he'd decided that some coffee was in order if for no other reason than he needed a different aroma in his nose. The one currently residing there was making him crazy. When he'd pulled up at the Steveston Kafe ("Koffee, Kakes and Pies to Go"), Scully jerked awake as the car came to a stop.
"Where are we?" she'd asked with a touch of panic in her voice.
"We're back in town," he'd answered, not willing to commit beyond the obvious yet.
"What are we doing? How did we get here? Where are the Kindred?"
So many questions. He was completely thrown off by the implications and wasn't entirely sure how to answer any of them. So he asked one of his own.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
Splitting up at the barn and Brother Andrew asking to speak to her -- that's as far back as her memories went. She didn't remember going up to the man's room or being mauled by him. She didn't remember anything he might have told her about who the murderer was.
He thought Scully would be embarrassed by her lack of self control, so he'd been ready with soothing reassurances and platitudes as needed. He never expected her to be totally blank on the whole event. She'd been pretty out of it ever since they left the farmhouse but he was sure she'd at least remember enough to know what her own partner had done to her. For her.
Now he wasn't sure if he wanted her to remember or not.
He'd enjoyed giving her pleasure in the car, watching her face, hearing her cries. Really enjoyed it, even before she'd reciprocated and he'd nearly lost his mind. Maybe he'd enjoyed it too much. Being involved with Scully would not only complicate their partnership, it would take time away from other things. Important things. Like finding his sister and exposing the alien conspiracy. He wanted to be closer to her. He did. But now might not be the best time. All things considered, it was just as well that she didn't remember.
Still, there was a part of him that wanted to throw itself on the floor and pitch a tantrum over what couldn't be.
Well, now was not the time for that either.
Mulder dried his hands and straightened his tie. He pulled his shoulders back, looked himself in the eye and nodded. Much better. Just get on with the investigation and put this incident out of mind -- at least until he was home alone. No one could hold him accountable for the things that happened in his imagination as long as they didn't know about it. And he'd make damned sure no one found out -- especially Scully.
He exited the restroom, brushing past the man waiting to enter with a murmured "Excuse me." Glancing out the front window of the shop, he located the car parked at the curb. Scully sat motionless in the passenger seat, staring at the people passing with blank eyes. He watched her for a moment and then walked to the counter next to the cash register.
"Two coffees to go, please."
What happened out in the woods would be his secret for now. There was no other choice. Maybe, someday, he'd be able to share it with Scully, sometime in the future when they could be together as more than partners. But not now. Not for a long time, perhaps.
"Here you go, sir." The perky little blonde smiled as she handed over the Styrofoam cups and he smiled back automatically as he took them.
Then he walked out the door and back to the car. Back to his partner.
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