Fic - Evolution (Mark, Mark/Lexie) R, 1/1
Title: Evolution
Summary: It is an evolutionary process, he muses. These things are bound to happen.
Rating: R
Author's Notes: 642 words. For citron-presse. Set mid-season five. General series spoilers. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
“Who is she?”
Mark’s shoulders immediately tense as Derek comes up beside him, fingers tightening around his pen on reflex. The guilt comes and goes; Derek’s voice in his ear - his do not go there ebbing and flowing as the days go on. It is February, it has been two months, and he and Lexie spend more time together than not. He’s not sure what that means, what they are, but he is a smart guy and he knows enough to know that it has to mean something. It’s an evolutionary process, he muses. These things are bound to happen. He knows more about her than he knew about Addison he thinks sometimes, and it inevitably scares the shit out of him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mark mutters.
Lexie’s eyeing them from the nurses’ station across the way; he looks up and she’s there, smiling, and his heart does something odd inside of his chest. And seriously, when the fuck did this start happening? When did things like butterflies worm themselves into his life? When did he become one of those guys who thought about more than just sex?
It’s starting to make him sick.
“Are you and Torres…?” Derek trails off and Mark steels himself, standing up straight. He thinks about lying for half a second. Thinks about stretching the truth just a little bit farther, but despite popular opinion he is trying to be better about these things. He is trying to be a better man. Lexie makes him want to be a better man and Mark understands how much of a ridiculous thought that is, how so unlike him the very notion is.
He also knows there is absolutely no way of escaping it so he replies with a curt no and continues avoiding eye contact.
“You’re…” Derek trails off, eyebrow raised, searching for the right word. “Happy,” he says, an odd smile playing on his lips and Mark isn’t really sure how to take it - whether it is an accusation or a mere observation. He never has been able to tell with Derek.
“I’m not allowed to be happy?”
“No. No, I mean, you’re allowed, of course, but you generally aren’t.”
Mark rolls his eyes, tight lipped. “Don’t you, you know, have actual things to do? Lives to save?” He closes the file in his hands, clicks his pen and grabs his coffee.
“Your resistance to the subject is giving you away,” Derek says, laughter falling between them but Mark is already walking in the other direction.
_
Later, in the on call room, Mark is on his knees between her thighs, her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping his shoulders. He kisses the skin on the inside of her thighs, slides a finger between them. His grin is predatory, primal when he finds her wet and aching; he licks her, just once, and he loves the way his name falls from her lips, the way she arches into his touch.
There is a place inside him, deep and buried, that thinks he might love her, just a little, but he’s not that guy, and that isn’t what this is - not yet, anyway - so he follows a routine that is as familiar as breathing and buries it.
“People are talking,” he breathes, eyes flowing upwards, watching her. He likes to watch her; it’s quickly becoming one of his most favorite things in the entire world. Her grin is slow, lips twitching upwards beautifully.
“That surprise you?” Lexie is breathless, fingers tightening around his shoulders.
He smiles, dips a finger into her, then two and her own curl into his hair. “Not really.”
“Good,” she sighs and she’s gritting her teeth when she continues, “now that we’ve established that, will you fuck me now?”
Mark is laughing when he hooks her thighs over his shoulders.
Summary: It is an evolutionary process, he muses. These things are bound to happen.
Rating: R
Author's Notes: 642 words. For citron-presse. Set mid-season five. General series spoilers. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
“Who is she?”
Mark’s shoulders immediately tense as Derek comes up beside him, fingers tightening around his pen on reflex. The guilt comes and goes; Derek’s voice in his ear - his do not go there ebbing and flowing as the days go on. It is February, it has been two months, and he and Lexie spend more time together than not. He’s not sure what that means, what they are, but he is a smart guy and he knows enough to know that it has to mean something. It’s an evolutionary process, he muses. These things are bound to happen. He knows more about her than he knew about Addison he thinks sometimes, and it inevitably scares the shit out of him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mark mutters.
Lexie’s eyeing them from the nurses’ station across the way; he looks up and she’s there, smiling, and his heart does something odd inside of his chest. And seriously, when the fuck did this start happening? When did things like butterflies worm themselves into his life? When did he become one of those guys who thought about more than just sex?
It’s starting to make him sick.
“Are you and Torres…?” Derek trails off and Mark steels himself, standing up straight. He thinks about lying for half a second. Thinks about stretching the truth just a little bit farther, but despite popular opinion he is trying to be better about these things. He is trying to be a better man. Lexie makes him want to be a better man and Mark understands how much of a ridiculous thought that is, how so unlike him the very notion is.
He also knows there is absolutely no way of escaping it so he replies with a curt no and continues avoiding eye contact.
“You’re…” Derek trails off, eyebrow raised, searching for the right word. “Happy,” he says, an odd smile playing on his lips and Mark isn’t really sure how to take it - whether it is an accusation or a mere observation. He never has been able to tell with Derek.
“I’m not allowed to be happy?”
“No. No, I mean, you’re allowed, of course, but you generally aren’t.”
Mark rolls his eyes, tight lipped. “Don’t you, you know, have actual things to do? Lives to save?” He closes the file in his hands, clicks his pen and grabs his coffee.
“Your resistance to the subject is giving you away,” Derek says, laughter falling between them but Mark is already walking in the other direction.
_
Later, in the on call room, Mark is on his knees between her thighs, her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping his shoulders. He kisses the skin on the inside of her thighs, slides a finger between them. His grin is predatory, primal when he finds her wet and aching; he licks her, just once, and he loves the way his name falls from her lips, the way she arches into his touch.
There is a place inside him, deep and buried, that thinks he might love her, just a little, but he’s not that guy, and that isn’t what this is - not yet, anyway - so he follows a routine that is as familiar as breathing and buries it.
“People are talking,” he breathes, eyes flowing upwards, watching her. He likes to watch her; it’s quickly becoming one of his most favorite things in the entire world. Her grin is slow, lips twitching upwards beautifully.
“That surprise you?” Lexie is breathless, fingers tightening around his shoulders.
He smiles, dips a finger into her, then two and her own curl into his hair. “Not really.”
“Good,” she sighs and she’s gritting her teeth when she continues, “now that we’ve established that, will you fuck me now?”
Mark is laughing when he hooks her thighs over his shoulders.