From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 14 May 2002 02:41:05 -0000 Subject: FIRST-YEAR FANTASIES, by C. Chaffin and Tess (1/1), NC-17, MSR,V by Char Chaffin, Tess Source: direct Reply To: char@chaffin.com;, Tnv099@aol.com FIRST-YEAR FANTASIES By Char Chaffin and Tess Category: MSR, dual POV Vignette Rating: NC-17 Disclaimers: Characters named herein are the sole property of 1013 and Fox Spoilers: Season One, "Tooms" Dedication... to David BayBee, on his birthday! Happiest of birthdays, DB II/DiDi! Notes: At the end! Summary: It has to last forever... "First-Year Fantasies" ***************** You come toward me in the waning light of day, and I am dumbstruck by the beauty I see, in your nude form. In my wildest fantasies I never imagined I'd ever see you this way, and yet here you are. Within arms' reach of me. I want to fall to my knees before you and worship. My eyes begin a slow traverse of your body, starting at your feet. Such small, competent feet... narrow and finely-boned, toes painted a soft rose. Your ankles are delicate but I know first-hand how deceptively strong they are, for you more than keep up with me when I am running. I'm not running now, though... In fact, I can't seem to move. You have the most lovely legs; I have never told you, but you do. Slender and curvaceous as hell, long for so petite a woman; dainty knees and sweetly-fashioned thighs... I try not to stare when I get to the juncture of those thighs but I can't help myself, for you are more sensually desirable than even my fervent dreams could have conjured. Your curls are darker than your hair, wispy and silky-looking. I swear I can smell your sweetness from here, though several feet still separate us. Above your rounded hips, above that tiny waist that I have only touched, once or twice - and that narrow ribcage and flat tummy, the cutest little navel housed there - above such treasures I discover a pair of breasts that had to be created by the gods, just for me. Perfectly proportioned as the rest of you, crowned with rosy nipples. I stare at them for a long time, as you stand so still and let me gaze at you to my heart's content. And my heart is content to gaze, forever... Shoulders that are as delicate as the rest of you, yet wide enough to bear the consequences of being paired with 'Spooky' Mulder... gently curving arms that once held me when I needed to be held. Hands with the most compassionate touch; they have made me tremble more than once - given me comfort, as well. Your face... God. Scully, you are so beautiful. I have drowned in your eyes, felt myself bend in silent need before your tender smile... hung suspended waiting for a glimpse of your little pink tongue, coming out to lick at your delectable mouth. I have felt every inch of my body tighten in anticipation of being close enough to you, to feel the heat of your glance and take in the fragrance of your fiery hair, the low timbre of your voice when you have shot down my theories, agreed with me, chuckled at my bad jokes... or done nothing more than spoken my name. I am humbled before you. I am dying to hold you. Aching to kiss you... begging to be allowed the privilege of all the secrets you possess. When you step forward and take my hand, I manage to follow your lead without tripping on my own shaky feet... The bed is wide and inviting, and the cool breeze coming in from the open window tosses your hair about as you sink down onto cotton sheets, and pull at me until I am lying by your side. You are close enough to embrace, to kiss - and yet I hesitate, wondering if this is what you truly want. Is this real, Scully? Do you really want me? Fox Mulder, the driven one, the guy with the wild theories and the crazed hunches - and more damn skeletons in his proverbial closet than any one human being should ever house? I could swallow you up in one bite and absorb you until you find yourself looking out from my eyes, living my life... experiencing the good things as well as the bad. And frankly, lately in my life the good has only been you... I must have spoken those words aloud because your smile breaks over me and your soft voice is so, so loving, when you reply with a simple, "Yes... to everything, Mulder." You say "Yes"... to me. And you take my hand, and bring it to your mouth; press a kiss into my palm. I find myself trying to describe the feel of your lips against my skin, and I can't. I file the sensation away, to analyze later - and when you cradle that kissed palm against your cheek it's all I can do to sit still and not devour you, inch by luscious inch. I want this to last forever, Scully... It has to last forever. Neither of us speak; I think we're both afraid to infiltrate the moment with words, right now. It's enough that this is happening, that we are poised on the brink of the most amazing adventure we have ever embarked upon. Nothing in my past could have prepared me for the wonder of touching you, at last touching you the way I have only dreamt of in the deepest of solitary nights. I lean in, press my mouth to your shoulder, taste your soft skin. I close my eyes and breathe you, feel you, closer than I have ever been to you. The fragrance that seems to be uniquely yours... I remember it well, from a damp night when you came to me in worry and fear, dropped the robe covering your body and asked me to look at something... The trust you afforded me, so early on in our association, humbles me every time I remember. I am trusting you now, Scully... to hold me. To allow me into much more than just the wonder of your mind - I am trusting you to open your heart, radiate your love. And you are - You are. Your small hands slide over my chest, curl around my biceps, pull at me until I lay half over you, my elbows supporting the bulk of my weight as I spear my fingers through your hair and tilt your face up to receive a kiss - our very first. In your eyes I see tender eagerness, complete acceptance, burgeoning desire. Bright blue and sparkling with so much more than sexual need, they scorch me with promise. Almost as hot as the lips that now nibble on my collarbone and slick down my throat, headed straight for my nipple - either one, doesn't matter. It takes me just a moment to realize that we have foregone our very first kiss on the lips, to adorn each other's bodies with those initial mouth to skin caresses. I know I am content to wait and I think you are, too - for to have your mouth anywhere on me can only be a very good thing. When your sweet lips finally lift to mine, the kiss we share is not tender. It is not soft and slow and easy. Try wild. Try questing, seeking, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. It's crazy because up until now every touch has been made in supplication; each caress and sigh a soft taste of each other. I guess we laid enough groundwork, although only a minute or so has passed since you pulled me down next to you on the bed. One minute ago I wanted your gossamer touch - now I want to devour you. Our lips remain fused, neither of us able to breathe. Our legs tangle together, the silkiness of yours contrasting so deliciously with the roughness of mine. The hardness of me rubs and strokes against the softness of you, and it's enough to push us both closer to the edge. Your breasts are silky against me but your nipples are two hard points of fire on my skin and your heart beats as ferociously as mine does; your hands grasp me tightly enough to leave marks on my skin. Jesus, I hope so. I break the kiss, not because I have to breathe but because I want to look into your eyes when I bury myself deep within you. I can feel how hard I am, how aching and needy. I know you can feel it, too. When I pass a hand between our bodies and finger the wetness on your thighs I know it's not a result of the seepage from my penis; I know it's you - it's the way you respond, to me. Do you know how heady that is? How it rips at me to know you are affected as strongly as I am, by the way we are together? Again, I think I have spoken aloud, for I watch your beautiful eyes tear up and hear the tremble on your voice when your hoarse, "God, yes, Mulder," vibrates the scant air between us. No more words, however brief - not now. I need to press you down into the mattress; need to cradle myself in the cup of your hips; am dying to part you, slip inside, deep inside, forever inside... I know you're ready for me, as urgent as I am, for you told me so; you whispered a ragged demand into my ear. Your legs curl about my hips as I push forward, my skin meshing with yours, hard flesh reaching for its tender counterpart, burying, becoming... one. The feeling is indescribable. Months of wanting you, adoring you, all leading to this moment - in my most fevered imaginings I could never have conjured anything like this. It's hard to believe we're both ready for this; both aroused to the point that our frenzy is equal. Tight, hotter than hot, wet, so wet... clinging and enflaming - amazing. We lock eyes as we move together, so afraid to even blink. If we blink there may be an instant of awareness sorely missed, and I for one can't bear to lose one variation of expression on your face as I thrust inside you and you meet me, more than half the way. I scoop my arms under your shoulderblades, haul you up and closer to me, kiss you with my eyes and mouth wide open, soaking you in... and your nails curve into my hips in a demanding show of greed. Harder, deeper, more and more... your body tells me this. Your voice growls it, into my mouth. My body is beyond thrilled to be able to provide yours with all it needs. So attuned now, to your every gasp and shuddery moan; I can tell the moment it starts to get you - that spiral of release. Orgasm, climax, explosion, come, come... come for me, Scully, come now... I need you to let it all go, just for me, only me... so that I can let it go for you. All for you... Of course I groan it aloud, of course I can't hold it in - "Come for me, Scully, come now, please now..." And you do. ****************** Your world is shrouded in darkness. It is my world now too. Inky blackness surrounds me. Oppressive. Consuming. I live in this world, but I have not adjusted to the darkness. I am lost. Confused. Unsure of my path. But you are here. A guiding light. A beacon in the shadows. I long to wade through the muck and mud of our lives. To be wrapped in the safety of your arms; to bask in the warmth of your light. When you look at me, Mulder... who do you see? Do I penetrate the murkiness of your world? I still don't know. Do you see a valued partner and trusted friend? Or am I still the little spy sent to destroy you? Sometimes... I find you watching me. Your eyes are a combination of curiosity and wary mistrust and I feel my spirits sink. But other times, I glory in your approval and the knowledge that - for the moment - I have won your trust. And it is at those times that I feel the light that is inside of me expanding until I know that I am glowing in your dark world as brightly as you burn in mine. And it is in those moments that I feel you gravitate toward me; moving into the circle of my light, drawn helplessly to my flame... It is dark now. We are separated by a distance of less than a foot of space but you are edgy and tense. I can feel your sense of isolation as you retreat into the shadows of your world and I cautiously... hesitantly, offer myself to you. With my heart in my eyes and a vow on my lips, I seek to assure you that there is no other place on this earth where I wish to be; no other person that I would choose to be with... no other living creature to whom I would offer everything that I am... And I pray that it is enough to bind you to me forever... Your response is an anxious smile, a nervous quip. I stifle a disappointed sigh and turn my head away. Not yet, I think. You're not ready. I am drifting, my eyes half-closed when I hear the whisper of your clothes sliding against the upholstery. Your breath is a wash of warmth against my ear as you murmur my name. "Scully." I turn toward you and find your lips close to mine. My breath catches. I stop breathing. I need you to make the first move, Mulder. My eyes rove over your face while yours are locked on my mouth. I wait, eager for the first press of your lips to mine. Slowly, you close the distance between us. Your lips are warm, soft yet firm as they brush over mine with gentle force. At the first glancing touch of your mouth, my lips part and my limbs weaken. Still, I hesitate, my fingers curled into the fabric of the seat beneath me. Too good to be true, a voice chants in my head. Too good to be true. Your mouth leaves mine and travels over my cheek to press against the pulse hammering in my throat and that voice is driven out of my head. All coherent thought is drowned out by the roaring in my ears and the harsh sounds of our breathing. You lift your hand and the warmth of your palm burns through my blouse as it covers my breast. Your fingers curl around the swell of flesh, your thumb brushing over the nipple until it rises against the twin fabrics of bra and blouse to press into your palm... begging for attention. And then your open mouth is leaving a wet mark on the white cotton of my blouse. We burst into motion, frantic fingers rising to unbutton, unfasten and push clothing out of the way. My groan is loud as your mouth latches onto my breast, lips drawing rhythmically on the sensitive peak. I am lost in sensation. Lost in you. Only dimly aware of your busy fingers shoving my skirt over my hips, stripping hose and underwear down my legs. "Oh God. Mulder..." My eyes slam shut at the first sweeping pass of your tongue over me. I force heavy eyelids open. Your dark head is buried between my legs. With lips and teeth and tongue you taste, you explore, you enflame me and arouse me and I am quickly on the edge. I find my fingers knotted in your hair and I tug in a halfhearted effort to stop you. Lightning bolts of sensation spark in all of my nerve endings and I tremble on the brink of release. But I want more. I need more. I need you - all of you. Inside of me. I scramble back and the look in your eyes is feral and possessive when you raise your face. I am trembling as I push your suit coat from your shoulders and fumble with the buttons of your shirt. I wrench open the hook and zipper of your trousers and you spill into my waiting hands, hot and heavy and pulsing with life. I sink onto you and you press into me. Deep. And then deeper still. I lay my hands over my abdomen. I am filled... so achingly full of you that I am convinced I can feel you pulsing against the fingers pressed low against my stomach. We are moving. I rise and fall over you; your body penetrates mine. Hitching groans and wordless gasps mingle with the wet sounds of mouths and bodies mating. My name is a rumble of sound in your chest and I lift my head from its resting place on your shoulder to look into your face. Your eyes are blurred and soft with mounting pleasure; your face tight with strain. I lean forward, anxious for your release and mine and I say the words that push us both over the edge. "I love you." I take. And am taken. A white-hot explosion leaves us bathed in its fiery light, banishing the darkness forever... *************** Around them, air thick with an indefinable tension, as they stare at one another. Hazel eyes lock with blue, both faces shadowed in the dimness, foreheads a trifle moist with perspiration. The remains of too many swirling emotions find ways to poke and prod at them, and as deep as their perusal of each other had been, just a minute ago... now they both snap awake, both emerge from their dual fantasies, to regard each other and the reality of their present situation... In the car. Always, lately, it seems they're in the car. He sighs, a deep one - breaks the tightness between them - looks down at the picture in his hands. He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to be in this reality, right now... he wants to be back in that room in his mind, the one with the soft mattress and the open windows with the cool breeze blowing her hair about as he presses her beneath him; presses himself within her... But he's not there. As much as he longs for it, would do anything for it - that's not where he is... but at least he's with her - and that's something. **************** The words play out between them, some predictable and some brand new. In the close confines of his car, empty take out surrounding them, pine-scented air freshener clashing with the smell of sandwich meat and root beer... should have been ice tea. If it had been ice tea it would have been love. She takes it very seriously, that it could be love, compliments of Lipton. With the aftermath of her fantasy still causing a trembling in her hands, she digs through a bag and comes up with a poor substitute for it, for the love she knows has to be in the bag... has to be in her heart. In his, too... she can only hope, in his. When she sees the look on his face, hears the deep sigh that she understands is half in jest, half in earnest - when she sees for herself his reaction when she tells him she wouldn't put herself on the line for anyone else... somehow the reality of their partnership is almost as good as the fantasy of their intimacy. There is something now, between them. Something tangible. Something probable. It's been acknowledged, within their fertile imaginations, and in the face of the longing each can see, in the other. It's in place, now. They'll keep it in savings; let it gain interest, allow it to grow rich... Cash in on it, someday. She files away the anticipation, knowing without asking that he will, too. She gets into her car; he drives away. They both smile... End End Note: Season One set the tone, however subtle. That's our story and we're sticking to it! Authors' Birthday wishes: From Char: DB II, BayBee! Have the most wonderful birthday and know that you're STILL not as old as I am! Love you! From Tess: DiDi, hope this birthday marks a renewal and rebirth in the upcoming year. Happy, happy birthday! Thanks for reading! You can email us, any old time: char@chaffin.com and Tnv099@aol.com Our fics have homes! Come visit, at: http://char.chaffin.com http://tessfiles.n3.net/