#sculderfanasks

[scullysexual]

Sleep prompt?

sharing a bed with your ''lover'' and being told to “stay on your side of the bed“ only to wake up the next day, with your ''lover's'' arms wrapped around you

this list | g | season 6 | second person mulder pov | wc: 398 | @today-in-fic

Your left side is clammy, sweaty. There’s a heaviness hanging off your arm and warm air blowing rhythmically onto your neck. You open your eyes slowly. Groggy as they are you know you can’t mistake that patch of red beneath your shoulder. Red hair. You know that shade anywhere.

You smile, grinning really, you can’t help it. You followed the rules last night. You stayed on your side of the bed.

The clock reads 6:13 am. You’re awake now, you should probably get started with the day, check out that hunch you thought of yesterday.

Scully is like an anchor. You try to extract yourself from her but she clutches at you like a child around a teddy bear when you try to move.

You didn’t want to wake her. It seemed too early and you know your partner is not an earlybird.

But you are and your relationship with beds is strained enough as it is without needing the unhelpful benefit of laying in one, too.

You bump her nose, trying to wake her as gently as possible. It does nothing. She rubs her nose against your shoulder and continues sleeping.

You gently say her name, lightly shake her, coaxing her awake. It works. She mutters something sounding like Go away and rolls onto her other side, freeing you.

You are free to leave the bed but you can’t resist it. You slide up, nice and close beside her, hover above her ear and whisper with a gleeful smile.

“So much for staying on your side of the bed.”

You don’t see her eyes dart open but when she quickly turns to face you, you see them wide, redness pooling on her cheeks. She notices how close you both are, how close you are to falling off the bed. She also notices the empty space that was meant to be her side.

She’s rolling over there with an apology falling out of her mouth before you can stop her. She keeps her back to you, you know she’s embarrassed so you don’t push her. You climb out of the bed and tell her you’re getting dressed in the bathroom.

She nods, still with her back to you, slowly disappearing beneath the covers in shame.

You sigh, grabbing your clothes from your suitcase and heading to the bathroom.

Your relationship with beds isn’t the only relationship that’s strained.