Title: Too Darn Hot
Author: ML
7/13/02
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: MSR, PWP
Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine. They mostly belong to the actors who portray them, but Chris Carter created them, and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights. I mean no infringement, and I’m not making any profit from them.
Summary: See title.
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Too Darn Hot
by ML
The darkness was a palpable thing, close and smothering, taking Mulder’s breath away. He lay as still as possible on top of the covers, nothing on but his boxers, which were already damp around the waistband. He’d showered only moments before, but his hair already felt dry. He could tell it was sticking every which way from his scalp. Probably trying to get away from his skin. He knew the feeling. He could feel the beads of sweat forming and trickling down his body. He felt fevered, though he knew it was just the heat.
Mulder sighed and sat up, running a hand over his face and through his hair. He didn’t waste his time glaring at the plywood panel under the window where the air conditioner should be. He’d gallantly taken this room, one of the only two the motel had available, because the other room still had an air conditioner installed. They’d found out later that it might as well be gone too, for all the good it did them. It spewed out hot air, and Scully had finally given up on it. She’d opened the bathroom window a sliver and shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve stayed in worse places, Mulder,” she said gamely. Any hopes Mulder had of Scully offering to let him stay in her room vanished along with the hope of cooler air.
Time was he wouldn’t have cared. It used to be when in the field, he’d barely be aware of his surroundings. His focus was always on the case, and as long as he had a place to get his two hours or so of sleep, and a TV to while away the rest of the time, anywhere was fine. However, he’d recently become more aware of the limitations of the usual FBI-approved lodgings. The reason was sleeping (at least he hoped she was sleeping) in the room next door.
He flicked on the TV, hoping that maybe he’d find a documentary on the North Pole or “Ice Station Zebra” or something that would make him feel cooler. A few seconds of fruitless surfing told him that the only snow he’d be seeing on this TV was static.
He sighed. If there was any place else to stay within a reasonable driving distance, he’d be in the car with Scully now, heading for it. Unfortunately, by the time they got there, they’d just have to turn around and come back.
Maybe he’d go for a run. Maybe it was cooler outside by now. He pulled on his shorts and opened his door. The air felt about the same outside as it had before the sun went down, maybe a couple of degrees cooler. He guessed it was still about ninety degrees, and it was close to ten-thirty PM.
Running was out, then. He glanced over at the pool, hoping against hope that it had miraculously filled with water since they’d arrived. But no, it was still a big hole in the ground filled with nothing but air. Hot air.
“They have no business taking customers like this,” he groused out loud to no one but himself. The motel was in the midst of a remodel, a little detail left unsaid when they’d made the reservation. He and Scully had the only two rooms that were habitable. He had to admit that they were more nicely furnished than some places they’d stayed. Even the bathrooms weren’t half bad. But the heat canceled everything else out.
“This isn’t usual,” the proprietor had said when they checked in. “It’s about ten, maybe twenty degrees hotter than it normally is this time of year. It never lasts more than a day or two. And it always cools off at night.”
Mulder didn’t think he’d heard so many lies at once since the last conversation he’d had with Smoking Man.
He hoped that Scully was able to sleep, at least. Maybe she wasn’t feeling the heat as badly as he was. She’d probably taken a long cool bath, put on her pajamas, and fallen asleep immediately. Well, good for her.
But what if she’d fallen asleep in the bath? She might drown. He’d better go check on her, just to be sure.
Cautiously he opened the door between their rooms. Silence greeted him on the other side. He stood and listened a moment and turned to go back into his room when a soft voice stopped him.
“Mulder, that had better be you.” He couldn’t see Scully, but that was her voice from the vicinity of the bed.
“Yeah, it’s me. Can’t sleep either, huh?”
“It’s too damn hot,” came a groan.
Mulder still couldn’t see her, so he moved a little closer to the bed. “You won’t get any argument from me,” he said. “I’m sorry, Scully.”
“Unless you have some control over the weather I don’t know about, it’s not your fault, Mulder,” Scully said.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. His eyes were growing more accustomed to the lack of light and he could see the outline of Scully’s body now.
Quite a lot of Scully, in fact. “Scully,” he said softly, and now it wasn’t just the heat that made him want to pant, “you’re not wearing any clothes.”
“Very observant, G-Man,” she said. “It’s too hot. I don’t want anything touching me.”
“Then you sure ought to be wearing something, Scully,” Mulder said, which might have seemed like a non-sequitur to anyone but Scully.
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Mulder,” she said, but he could hear a hint of laughter in her voice.
“I wish I was doing more than seeing it,” he groaned, “but you’re right, it’s too hot to do anything.” He flopped on the bed, taking care not to brush against her.
Scully turned and looked at him. Her eyes gleamed faintly in the dimness. “It really must be too hot if you’re too hot for *that*.”
He raised his eyebrows, which was probably a wasted effort in the dark. “I never said I was too hot for *that*, Scully, if what you’re referring to so obliquely is what I think you are.”
“You’re way too hot,” she said softly, drawing one finger down his arm. Amazingly, it made him shiver. “And I mean that in a *good* way.”
“Aw Scully,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her. For a moment, only their lips touched gently. Mulder began to feel a different kind of heat, and he reached out for Scully, feeling her hand reach for him at the same moment.
They edged closer to each other, but before long rolled apart again.
“I’m sorry, Mulder,” Scully said. “It’s just too hot.”
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed reluctantly. “It’s no fun to be sticky and sweaty before we’ve done anything to get that way.”
They lay next to each other but the proximity to Scully wasn’t helping. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, and he was sure she could feel his, too. It would probably be kinder to go back to his room instead of making Scully (and himself) feel hotter, but he didn’t want to leave. He’d still be miserable, and this way at least he had company. He lay still and tried to think cool thoughts, but thoughts of Scully in situations where either of them were anything but cool kept intruding.
Resolutely he tried to think cooling thoughts instead. A waterfall, tumbling into a cool, clear pool of water. He could almost feel the mist on his face. And Scully, naked in his arms, floating with him in the limpid pool…
Mulder sat up suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” Scully asked, sitting up herself. She hadn’t heeded his suggestion that she put some clothes on, and he could dimly see a trickle of sweat between her breasts.
“We’re both too hot, we can’t sleep, but I think maybe I can take care of that,” Mulder said.
“How? Do you have a fan in your pocket?”
“Do you really want to know what I have in my pocket?” He grinned. “Be right back,” was all he said, and he went back to his room to grab a tee shirt and his car keys.
Lucky for him he’d seen the Wal-Mart on the way into town. He moved through the store quickly, grabbing what he needed, adding a few additional things he hadn’t thought of.
Back at the motel he carried his purchases into his room and went out again to find the ice machine, the one thing that seemed to be working properly at the motel. He filled two buckets with ice and let himself into Scully’s room.
“Where’d you go?” Scully asked. She’d turned on the light, and was wearing a big tee shirt with the neck stretched out that he recognized as his.
“Had to go get a few things,” Mulder said. He went next door and brought back a Styrofoam ice chest. “Here.” He rummaged around in it and handed her a popsicle. “Eat it before it melts.”
Scully sat cross-legged on the bed and sucked on her frozen treat. Mulder helped himself to one and stuck it in his mouth as he set up his other purchase.
He put the fan on the dresser and plugged it in, placing one of the buckets of ice in front of it. Immediately he could feel the cooler air. He stood to one side so Scully could feel it, too.
“Oh, that’s so nice,” she breathed.
“Glad you approve,” he said. He pulled something else out of the ice chest and held it behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he said.
Scully raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked.
He uncapped an atomizer of spring water and sprayed it gently on her face. She lifted her head up toward the coolness and sighed happily. “You really know how to show a girl a good time, Mulder,” she said.
“I haven’t even gotten started yet, Scully,” he said. He popped an ice cube in his mouth. “Lie down,” he said indistinctly around the cube.
Once again, Scully did as he asked without comment, though the eyebrow got another workout. He lay beside her again, and pressed his lips against her cheek. “Ooh,” was all she said in response to the cold slippery pressure. He placed kisses all over her face, the ice cube melting as he did so, leaving a cool trail wherever he touched her. She wriggled and made soft, satisfied sounds.
He ended at her mouth. The ice had melted, but his mouth and lips were still cool. Scully was sweet and sticky from the popsicle, and he tasted her eagerly. He reached for another ice cube, popping it into his mouth as he began to kiss her again. They traded the ice cube back and forth until it melted. Water dribbled out of the corners of their mouths and made a cool trail on hot skin.
“How’s that?” he murmured, savoring the lingering coolness of her lips.
“Hmmm, nice,” she said. “Cooler.”
“Good,” he said, and tugged on her hand to come sit in front of the slowly oscillating fan. He stripped and lay on the end of the bed, feet flat on the floor. Scully found the water atomizer and tried it on him. It dried as soon as it hit his skin, but he did feel a little cooler. “Oh yeah, Scully,” he said. “Give it to me.”
Scully snorted. “This is beginning to sound like a porn film, Mulder,” she remarked.
Mulder opened one eye. “How would you know, Agent Scully?”
“Research, Agent Mulder. Purely research.” She grinned and started to spray him again but he grabbed the can out of her hand.
“My turn again,” he said. He coaxed her out of her shirt and played the spray over her skin. He sprayed her breasts and watched them react to the cool stimulus. Scully shivered with pleasure.
He lay beside her. He picked up another ice cube, but Scully stopped him. “You’re not rubbing that on me, Mulder,” she said.
“Ooh, Scully. You *are* talking about the ice cube, right?” he smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Just watch me.” He popped it into his mouth and began a slow trail down her body, gliding his lips and tongue between her breasts and over them, over her ribcage and around her belly button. He never let an ice cube touch her directly, but placed damp kisses everywhere, cooling her overheated skin.
He reached the juncture of her thighs and first simply breathed cool air over her trembling flesh. She reacted very favorably, and he spent some minutes doing that and alternately using his lips and fingers, seeking out her most sensitive places.
Before very long, Scully’s hips bucked up once, then again, and her legs began to tremble. He could hear her rapid breathing as he gentled his touches. He stroked her legs and thighs, murmuring softly as she came back to herself. He found the atomizer and misted it over her body, and she sighed happily.
Mulder was panting for real now: between his own rising excitement, and Scully’s obvious pleasure, he felt light- headed, almost delirious. That would never do; he still had a few things up his figurative sleeve.
He got up and took a couple of bottles of water out of the ice chest, handing one to Scully, looking over her flushed face and body with a pleased grin. He rolled his own bottle against his neck and chest before opening it and draining it in a few gulps.
Scully took her time drinking her water and Mulder sat cross-legged at the end of the bed, watching her watch him. He knew she could see his arousal. He wasn’t used to her open appreciation of him. He hardly expected it, even now.
Scully reached out her hand to him, inviting him to lie down beside her once more. But as much as he wanted to make love with her, he didn’t want to smother her, and he didn’t want either of them to die of heat stroke. It was so much better when they both enjoyed the experience.
“No,” he said, “I’ve got a better idea. Come here.” He pulled her down the bed to sit facing him in front of the fan, her legs on either side of him. He positioned her on his lap, her legs now straddling his waist. He sat cross legged, balancing Scully so that she rested against his legs, and grasped her hips to bring her in close. She held onto his shoulders as he slowly entered her, and hooked her legs around his waist.
The angle felt strange at first. They’d never attempted this before; hell, he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they’d done *anything* so far.
Scully seemed to like it. She closed her eyes and rocked against him slowly, and he saw stars. It might be strange, but it was also very, very good.
They rocked against each other in front of the fan, letting the cool air wash over them as their internal temperatures reached feverish heights.
Mulder closed his eyes and imagined the fan was the sound of waves sweeping over sand, and that the breeze was a trade wind from somewhere. The air was hot, but only because they were on a tropical island. After a while, they’d go back to their cabana and have a cool shower, and fall asleep in each other’s arms under the lazy swirling of a ceiling fan.
He ran his hands down Scully’s backside and pulled her up closer as he increased his speed and shortened his thrusts. She matched him move for move and suddenly, finally, all he could think of was Scully. The feel of her. The sounds she made. The exquisite pull of her body against him, around him. He clutched her close and she did the same to him, and somehow they fell sideways on the bed together, still joined, lost in the sensations of flesh in flesh, skin sliding over skin, mouths meeting and melting against each other. He couldn’t not hold Scully, couldn’t not have her as close to him as he could get her, and she was the same, pulling him further into her, pressing her lips against his slick skin, her hands sliding over his back.
The outside world was lost to them, and the only heat that mattered now was what they generated between them.
When Mulder came to, he was lying face down next to Scully, his arm flung over her bare stomach. She was asleep, her face turned toward him. The air from the fan no longer felt cool; all the ice in the bucket had long since melted. He felt even stickier and sweatier than he had earlier that evening, but now he didn’t care. At least he’d done something to deserve it.
“Hey,” he whispered, trailing his fingers up and down her stomach, “you awake?”
“I am now,” Scully said, but she smiled at him.
“How do you feel?” Mulder asked.
“Hot, and sticky, but really good,” Scully said. She stretched luxuriously as Mulder watched, entranced.
They showered together under a stream of tepid water, and barely dried off, once again lying down in front of the fan. Mulder pulled on his shorts just long enough to fetch some more ice to put in front of the fan.
“I never thought that sex could cool me off,” Scully said, tracing her fingers down Mulder’s arm as she had when she started this whole thing.
“Maybe it’s an X-File, Scully,” he said drowsily. The air from the fan blew across his still-damp skin. He felt great, and it wasn’t just because of the cool air. He rolled over and reached for Scully. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her. “We’ll have to investigate some more, won’t we?”
“Um hmm,” she said, kissing him back. “Preferably under climate-controlled conditions. Or maybe on a beach somewhere. You made it sound pretty good.”
It wasn’t until that moment that Mulder realized that he must have been doing more than thinking about his tropical fantasy. Would Scully really go someplace like that with him? It was worth asking. “Do you think we could do that sometime, Scully?”
“I think it’s at least remotely plausible,” she said cheekily. “I bet you have a little vacation time saved up.”
“Where would you want to go, Scully?” he asked, licking his finger and drawing patterns on her breasts and stomach.
“As long as it’s not the Bermuda Triangle,” she said, squirming away from his touch, but turning toward him at the same time. Her eyes looked heavy as she fought to stay awake.
He reached for her hand and kissed it. “Go to sleep,” he urged. He kept hold of her hand and watched her eyes close before letting his close too.
They fell asleep to the susurration of the fan, imagining ocean breezes and dreaming of each other.
end.
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Author’s notes: I blame this on the 110 and 112-degree days we’ve had this week. Thanks for playing along!