Title: "Seeds" Author: Alicia K. Rating: NC-17. Hide the kiddies, run screaming for the hills! Category: MSR, a little H, I hope. Summary: Scully discovers the hidden benefits of Mulder's oral fixation. Spoilers: An unimportant mention of AD Kersh and the grunt work he gives our heroes. Feedback: Well, duh! spartcus1@msn.com Disclaimer: Mine? Oh, heavens no. They're Chris Carter's. Author's Note: I think I'd like to dedicate this to X-Rae, who was just so tickled that I was writing some more smut. ;) XXX Fox Mulder has an incredible mouth. Never let it be said that I, Dana Scully, failed to notice the obvious. Over the course of five years, I have surreptitiously watched those sensual lips surround the tips of hundreds of pens, the even teeth leave their wild mark on countless pencils, and erotically devour umpteen million sunflower seeds. Right now, at this moment, his honeyed baritone voice is slipping quickly into the background as my eyes instinctively drop to his mouth. The uneven lips move silkily over the nonsensical syllables -- what was he talking about? Something about the telekinetic abilities of the African swallow, I think - and I get a tantalizing glimpse of the tip of his pink tongue as he wets his plump lower lip. His lips have ceased their hypnotic dance, and I casually nod, making a noncommittal sound to prove how well I am paying attention. Sure, Mulder. Birds. Right. Africa. You betcha. "Hand me that file, will you?" I pass the overflowing manila folder across the coffee table, and his index finger brushes my wrist as he takes it from me. Pretending not to notice, I adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose and lower my gaze to the papers spread in front of me. What the hell are we going over, anyway? Oh yeah. The Klein case. Klein, Klein, Marcus Klein, my brain hums nonsensically as I make an illegible, useless note in a margin, the rasp of the pencil unnaturally loud in the stillness of my apartment. In a moment of weakness, I had given into Mulder's unsubtle pleas to "blow this popsicle stand", and we had retired early to my apartment, presumably to go over the latest in a line of predictable, easily solvable cases AD Kersh insisted on assigning us to. The sun had set long ago, and my stomach was rumbling impatiently. "You hungry, Mulder?" I ask, not daring to lift my head, lest I become enraptured with that sweet trap that was his mouth. "Getting there." The rustle of a plastic bag reaches my ears, followed by the sharp, unmistakable crack of a seed between teeth. Oh god. Don't look up, don't look up, don't you DARE look up, Dana Katherine Scully, don't you even think about looking up . Too late. My eyes lift just in time to see his fingers delicately pop the next seed between his lips, his tongue moving efficiently, absently to separate the meat from its shell. I can just make out the shape of his tongue deftly caressing the salty husk, and again the moist tip emerges as he plucks away the shell. Is it getting hot in here? He raises his head from the papers, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "You hungry, Scully?" I shuffle some papers, shrugging. "Yeah . Why don't I go grab something." Unfolding my cramped legs I rise, back arching and arms raising in a leisurely stretch. "Think you'll be hungry by the time I get back?" "Oh yeah," he murmurs, looking at me with a funny smile. "What do you want?" I ask, moving to grab my keys and some money. "Mulder?" He's still looking at me, his eyes focused somewhere around my chest. "Food? Hello?" His eyes snap back to the report. "Whatever. You know what I like." His long fingers snake into the bag of seeds, and I quickly leave, not wishing to be sucked in again. XXX When I return half an hour later with a large, hand-tossed supreme pizza, Mulder is pouring two glasses of red wine. "Hey," he says, his face bright with the smile that stretches his lips. "Soup's on," I reply weakly, tossing the cardboard box onto the table, not caring that the Klein case file will likely be greased-stained by the end of the night. Leave it to Mulder to unconsciously continue his oral onslaught. If he only knew what that toothy smile did to me. I can hear his stomach rumbling pleasantly from across the room, and he chuckles softly as he opens the lid, inhaling deeply. "Ah, Scully. I knew you wouldn't let me down." "Do I ever?" I tease, sipping the wine. His hazel eyes pierce mine suddenly. "No," he responds simply, and I nearly choke. Mere moments later, I am enthralled by Mulder's tongue as he winds it around an errant piece of cheese. It swirls around the stringy strand, attempting to corral it into his waiting mouth. When he looks at me, I clamp my mouth shut and contemplate the suddenly fascinating chip on the rim of my wine glass. "You want this?" His voice is throaty, amused, and inherently sexy. "Do I want what?" I return, and I'm surprised that my voice even works at all. Slow deep breaths, Dana. Slow . deep . what? Oh yeah. Breaths. "You were eyeing my pizza pretty closely. Something wrong with yours?" I look at it, searching the toppings for anything that would allow me to reply in the affirmative. "Uh, no, I guess not." I bite off the end of the slice and close my eyes blissfully. Uncle Tony's still had the best sauce in DC. Just the right amount, spicy and tangy. I wonder if Mulder's mouth tastes spicy or tangy? I grab my wine, washing down the thought with a huge gulp. XXX Twenty minutes later I am lounging on the sofa, a fresh glass of wine balanced on my pleasantly full belly. Mulder is sprawled out below me, his head resting near my feet. He has turned his attention back to Mr. Klein's fertilizer woes, and is unaware of my scrutiny as I study him in profile. His jaw moves slightly as he chews the inside of his cheek. Someone once told me that biting the inside of your mouth could lead to cancer. Damndest thing I'd ever heard. Besides Flukemen, Mothmen, and Monkey boys, that is. Once again, his hand reaches for the bag of seeds. "Why do you eat those damn things?" I ask, finding it suddenly imperative that I know the answer. He looks at me, surprised. "I have watched you eat bag after bag ever since we met." I turn onto my side, propped up on my elbow. He looks at the tiny seed in his hand, as if the answer could come from an inanimate object. "I don't know," he decides after a moment. "I just do." I shake my head slightly, sipping at my wine. My brain is pleasantly fuzzy, and I bite back a small giggle. "You've got one hell of an oral fixation, Mulder." His eyes are intent on mine, and as I watch in fascinated silence, they change from light brown to a sparkling green. Wow. Maybe I'd been focusing on the wrong facial feature. That was amazing. I am about to ask him to do it again when he smiles. "You think I have an oral fixation, Scully?" I smirk. "I know you do. I've been watching you for years," I confess. "Watching you bite your poor pens and pencils to pieces, watching you go through mountains of seeds. Do you have stock in the David Sunflower Seed company or something?" I'm babbling now, and I fleetingly wonder if I'm drunk. "Because to tell you the truth, I never understood their appeal." He tosses the file onto the floor and turns to face me. "Really?" He casually drops another seed into his mouth. I feel his eyes on me intently as I watch the delicious process again. "I could never figure out how to eat them." "Well geez, Scully, it's not rocket science. Here." He holds out his hand and offers me a seed. I take it, holding it between my fingertips like it's a Lyme disease carrying wood tick. "You just put it between your teeth, like this," he demonstrates, lips now moving carefully around the protruding seed "crack it open, and use your tongue to extract the seed." The breath leaves my relaxed body in a huff. "After all those seeds, I bet your tongue is the strongest muscle in your body." His eyes widen slightly, and it takes me a second to realize what I've just said. I wait for his answering leer and innuendo, but it doesn't come. He merely extracts the empty shell from his mouth and flicks it into the empty pizza box. "Go on," he murmurs in a low voice. "Give it a try." I place it between my teeth and bite down, but nothing happens. I remove it and stare at the offending object. "I don't want to lose a filling over this, Mulder. This one's too hard." "Oh, there's no such thing as too hard, Scully." I feel a warm flush creeping over my body. He chuckles softly and brings another seed to my lips. I don't dare lower my gaze from his - I may actually die if I do - as my tongue flicks out to capture it, wisping along the pad of his finger as I do so. He tastes as salty as the seed. I think that I see the groan rising in his throat, but he stops it by biting his lip. The crack of the shell is satisfying, and I smile. "Ta-da," I sing-song. "Now find the good part." I fumble inside my mouth for a moment. "I don't think my tongue is talented enough." My eyes widen and my heart maybe stops beating as he raises himself up onto his knees, his eyes smoky and dark. He's going to kiss me, I think happily, just before I swallow the seed, shell and all. My body shoots off the couch, eyes bulging attractively, coughing and sputtering in a way that I'm sure he finds undeniably sexy. "You all right?" he laughs, his hand moving to my back. I nod, swallowing hard to push the stupid thing all the way down my throat. I reach for my wine, taking a few healthy gulps before finally leaning back onto the couch. His hand is still rubbing my back, spreading a full warmth throughout my body. "Laugh it up, Seed King." He stifles the rest of his chuckles, and I smile, my shoulders moving in a laugh of my own. "If it's all the same to you, Mulder, I think I'll leave the seed consumption to you." "There's a reason that professionals say 'don't try this at home'." He is near enough that his voice sends a tremor through my body. The wine has made me brave. "You were going to kiss me." His hand stops. "That was my plan, yes." "Bees and seeds, Mulder. I must be jinxed." His other hand is resting beside my thigh, and I reach for it, brushing the back of it with my fingers. His long fingers twine around mine, and he raises it to his lips, planting light kisses on each fingertip before drawing my index finger between his beautiful lips. His eyes never leave mine. I draw in a slow breath as his warm, wet tongue swirls around my finger, laving it thoroughly before sucking it deeper into the depths of the mouth that has been the source of my utter fascination. The suction hollows his cheeks slightly and sends a jolt of pure pleasure straight down my spine to my core, where it spreads like a licking fire. I introduce a second finger into the wet warmth of his mouth, and he smiles around the digits. My free fingers rasp along the evening stubble of his cheek as his tongue slides along my flesh. They finally leave his mouth with an audible pop, and the cool air on my slickened flesh makes me shudder. The tremor remains as he moves in front of me, taking hold of my knees and parting them, settling himself within the cradle of my legs. He looks at me, his chameleon eyes dark with desire. His hands touch my waist and slide around to my back slowly before drawing me to him. Kiss me, kiss me, I think as my torso slides towards his, but he lowers his head to where my cotton blouse hangs open just above my breasts. His lips lightly touch the skin there in a whisper kiss, and my breath stops. He raises his eyes to me at my gasp, his lips still on my breastbone, and smiles. The held air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. "Thought you were going to kiss me," I say, cocking an eyebrow. "I am." The vibration of his voice rumbles through my chest, filling me with delicious warmth. "I just didn't say where." His mouth opens on my chest, his tongue pressing against me and trailing down into my cleavage. His hands slide up my back to cup my shoulder blades, bringing me even closer to his waiting mouth. I look down at my partner, watching with fascination as his head moves gently from side to side, nuzzling the covered curves of my breasts. I can feel my nipples tightening in anticipation, but he studiously avoids them, instead just brushing lightly over the blue satin of my bra. Fleetingly, I send up a quick thanks to the lingerie muses for making me wear a matching set today. Is he waiting for my permission? Is he still unsure? As if answering my unvoiced question, his eyes raise to mine again, and my body weeps at the loss of his soft mouth. I offer him a smile and raise trembling fingers to undo the rest of the buttons of my shirt. With an answering smile, his hands raise to cover mine, and he drops light kisses on the knuckles before placing them back in my lap. He slowly takes over the task, lips touching each new inch of skin he reveals. I am hazy with alcohol, burning up with his touch, and absolutely giddy with the realization that Mulder's mouth is on my skin. His hands stop at my waist, his lips pressed gently against my navel, tongue darting out to tickle. I squirm a bit, my hands lifting to weave through his thick, luscious hair. It slides silkily through my fingers, and he lets out a small murmur of pleasure, his breath puffing against my sensitized skin. I am aching to touch him, to tear that tight black tee shirt from his body, but I can't wait to see what he will do next. How far will he go without one simple kiss? He tugs me close again, rubbing his soft mouth against the smooth skin of my belly. Raising up on his knees, he slowly pulls the shirt from my pants, and I shrug it off my shoulders. His eyes travel over my exposed torso, lingering at my breasts. My ears are ringing with the agonizing silence, and yet I'm afraid that this will end if one of us speaks. We'll exchange embarrassed smiles and he will scramble to collect his things, muttering about needing sleep and a day off, and disappear. But he leans forward, touching me only with his mouth as he lowers his lips to my shoulder and traces the ridge of my collarbone. He repeats the sweep on the other side, pausing to taste the hollow of my throat with a flick of his tongue. My body is now covered in goose flesh, and my hands grasp his broad shoulders to try and still the quaking. When I feel the heat of his flesh is through the thin cotton of his shirt, the slow burn inside me begins to boil, and I need more of him. Desperately, I grab his face and pull him up to me, pausing with barely an inch between our lips. Our breath mates between us, and I whisper a plea. "Kiss me." He tilts his head up a fraction, planting two soft kisses on my eyelids, then the tip of my nose. "I will," he promises, his breath tickling my ear. Another kiss there, and at the soft flesh behind the lobe. "Are you going to say where this time?" His lips hover at the rapid pulse in my throat. "Everywhere," he breathes, drawing my flesh between his lips and suckling lightly. Damn the man and his oral fixation, I think, arching underneath his roving tongue. He nears my aching breasts, and I reach behind me, fumbling with the clasp of the bra before practically flinging it off me like a slingshot. He stops suddenly, exhaling on a sigh. My eyes fly open, terrified that he has changed his mind, terrified that I will see a look of regret and shame burning his face. But no, he is smiling, staring at my breasts as if they were the Holy Grail. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes lifting to mine as he lowers his mouth. I intend to answer him with a demure "thank you", but I can only gasp as his hot mouth closes over my breast. With a long, catlike stroke, he licks at me, starting at the tender underside and sweeping over the hardened nipple, then again. I fight to keep my eyes open as a moan slips from my lips, not wanting to be the first to break the gaze. Seemingly satisfied with my whimper, his eyes slip shut as he focuses on the task at hand. I take back the silent curse I had given earlier in regards to his fixation as his tongue swirls around my nipple. Thank you, god, for this man and his oral talents, I revise. When he pulls my breast into the cavern of his mouth and suckles like a nursing baby, my mouth drops open and a heavy gasp escapes. I cannot tear my eyes away from the sight of my partner suckling at my breast. I squeeze my thighs together with another moan, trying to relieve some of the pressure building there. He pulls his mouth away, feeling my motion beneath him, and a smile tugs at his lips. Wordlessly, his hands rise to the waistband of my pants and undo the button there. The sound of the zipper is unnaturally loud, and I let loose a soft giggle. He grins up at me as I raise my hips, shimmying to help him pull off my pants. I look down at myself, naked except for a pair of bikini panties, splayed before him. He plants a solemn kiss on each knee before nudging them apart with his chin. My eyes flutter closed against my will as his breath hisses up the inside of my thigh, followed by the barest touch of his lips. He hovers just before my center, his hot breath making me writhe beneath his heavy gaze. Touch me, I think, the words screaming through my brain as my hips twitch, blindly seeking the source of the moist heat. My eyes fly open to meet his as I realize that he has done all of this with his mouth only. After suckling my fingers and tugging me closer, he has only touched me to remove my clothes. Mulder is staring up at me with an amused gaze, nipping at my inner thigh. "Proved your point yet?" I ask breathlessly. "Maybe." He presses his nose against the sodden crotch of my panties, nuzzling lightly. "Maybe not," he adds as I whimper. He turns abruptly to shove the coffee table back a few feet, then nestles himself back into the cradle of my thighs. My impatient hands yank down the scrap of material and kick it away. At last, his hands come to rest gently on the tops of my thighs, lightly stroking. Wordlessly, he reaches for a throw pillow, and I stuff it under my hips, offering myself to him. Still he waits, and a horrified thought flashes through my mind. What if it's all a tease? What if it's just to prove some stupid point? What if . The brush of his finger against the wiry copper curls above my center effectively cuts off my frantic thoughts. "Scully," he whispers, the breath of the word against my throbbing core aggravating me even more. I look down at him, and his eyes are dark with desire and a myriad of emotions. I bring one hand to his cheek, brushing my thumb against his lush bottom lip, showing him my trust, my love with a smile. The light in his eyes surges, and he nips at the pad of my thumb with his teeth. "Open yourself for me." My eyes widen slightly at his command, but my trembling hand slides down my belly and between my thighs, brushing aside the damp curls and spreading my heavy folds with two fingers. "Touch yourself." His name is forming on my lips uncertainly before he reassures, "It's all right." He reaffirms his words with a soft kiss on my index finger. The brush of his lips against my core erases my hesitation, and my middle finger gently flicks over my clit. A shudder makes its way up my body, and I do it again, harder this time. A low growl reaches my ears, and I open my eyes to see Mulder crouched before me, one hand snaked between his own legs, stroking the denim-covered bulge straining there. A twinge of power and excitement surges through me, and my finger moves lower, dipping into the pooled moisture before returning to circle the humming bundle of nerves. I move to do it again, my eyes intent on his lust-filled face, but his hand shoots out and encircles my wrist, tearing my hand away from myself. His hands are almost rough as he grips my thighs and spreads them even further apart. The first touch of his tongue nearly sends me over the edge, and a choked cry leaves my throat. He laps at me like a cat at a dish of milk, then switches to long, smooth strokes, studiously avoiding the engorged nub where I most want his mouth. I moan his name, grabbing his hair and pressing his face closer. His responding murmur is lost within me, and I slouch further down on the couch as his tongue burrows into me, thrusting leisurely. Tomorrow my thighs will bear tell-tale bruises, I'm sure, but I don't care. His fingers are digging into my tender flesh, and I love it. His nose bumps against me, the electric jolt making my hips rise off the pillow. His tongue slips out of me, and my cry of protest turns into another throaty moan as it reasserts itself between my folds. I swear that I can feel every taste bud on his tongue, that wonderful tongue. Somewhere deep in the small, still- functioning part of my brain I make a mental note to give him a whole freaking case of sunflower seeds as a thank you gift. A long finger enters me, pressing against my walls. I can feel my body beginning to coil, like a five-foot-two-inch spring, and I look down at his dark head through shuttered eyes. Finally, finally, finally his tongue strokes my clit, and as I cry out again, a second finger slides into me. "God god god Mulder.." I hiss, arching off the couch in pleasure. "Mulder .. " The spring is winding tighter and tighter, and I hear a roaring in my head. When his lips clamp around the nub and tug sharply, I scream, bucking and spasming around his thrusting fingers. His mouth is gentle now, coaxing me down from my euphoria, stroking me tenderly with his tongue, hands caressing my sore thighs, warming me as I shudder. "Mulder," I murmur when I regain control of my senses. I'm reaching for him, wanting desperately to see him, hold him, touch him. His knees pop as he raises himself to join me, gathering me into his arms. I bury my face in his chest, holding him as tightly as I am able. "Jesus." I'm still panting, still quivering beneath him. I am jelly. The fleeting thought makes me giggle, and he pulls away enough to smile down at me, questioning my laugh with his eyes. I raise my shining eyes to his with a wide smile. "For Christ's sake, Mulder, will you kiss me now?" He obliges, and as our tongues entwine heatedly, I feel desire rolling through my body anew. I happily sigh into him, realizing that the prior pleasure was just the beginning of the amazing things he could do with that beautiful mouth. END that beautiful mouth. END