RENT: Sure Signs
Title: Sure Signs
Characters/Pairing: Benny/Mark/Maureen
Word Count: 447
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sure signs of the morning after.
Notes: Written for thisbemadness challenge #3, and fanfic100 prompt #73. Set in my Three-Way Street-verse, right after Maureen first gets together with Benny and Mark. I love this verse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rent, Benny, Mark, or Maureen.
The light through the window is too bright, no curtains or blinds to block it out. That bright, there's no way any of them are asleep, but no one's moving yet, ignoring the insistent tug to get up, morning's here, so the light creeps past the tiny, overcrowded bed to the room beyond.
There are clothes scattered on the floor, a tiny black dress fallen on top of a bulky blue and yellow jacket. Nearby, a lacy black bra, and further on a pair of black jeans, a sweater and a shirt. A couple of condom wrappers dropped on the floor by the bed, forgotten or ignored in haste.
The comforter's fallen half off the bed, and Mark along with it, one leg and an arm hanging over the edge. He grumbles and shifts, still in a haze of half-sleep, and the movement starts to carry him over the edge of the bed, so he almost falls. Automatically, not even fully awake, Benny reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him back against him snugly, and Mark fits himself against his side with a familiar comfort.
"What time is it?" A woman's arm slips over Benny's waist, her fingers gliding lightly down Mark's side before her hand comes to rest on his hip while she presses her face against Benny's back, shielding her eyes from the light. It's not usual to have her there, almost surprising to have her smooth skin against them, her small frame crowding the already tiny bed, but it fits, her presence, like something's just fallen into place.
Mark makes a soft, noncommital noise probably best translated as I don't know, and does it really matter? Benny smiles faintly and answers, "Before noon."
Maureen groans softly. "Too early."
Mark reaches up to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "You wanna stay?" he asks, trying not to sound too hopeful, and glad his back is against Benny so he can't see his expression. "For a while?"
There's a moment of silence, and then Maureen smiles, lightly squeezing Mark's hand. "Sure."
And they fall into silence, but a comfortable silence, full of warmth and languid comfort and light, and the last puzzle piece seems to have fit right in, Mark curled against Benny's chest and Maureen's slender form stretched out at Benny's back, arm still draped over the both of them, quietly possessive. Neither of them mind all that much, and they fall into a drowsy half-sleep as the light continues to creep into the room and brightens bit by bit, illuminating discarded clothes and rumpled sheets and tangled bodies, sure signs of sex, companionship and something approaching love.
Characters/Pairing: Benny/Mark/Maureen
Word Count: 447
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sure signs of the morning after.
Notes: Written for thisbemadness challenge #3, and fanfic100 prompt #73. Set in my Three-Way Street-verse, right after Maureen first gets together with Benny and Mark. I love this verse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rent, Benny, Mark, or Maureen.
The light through the window is too bright, no curtains or blinds to block it out. That bright, there's no way any of them are asleep, but no one's moving yet, ignoring the insistent tug to get up, morning's here, so the light creeps past the tiny, overcrowded bed to the room beyond.
There are clothes scattered on the floor, a tiny black dress fallen on top of a bulky blue and yellow jacket. Nearby, a lacy black bra, and further on a pair of black jeans, a sweater and a shirt. A couple of condom wrappers dropped on the floor by the bed, forgotten or ignored in haste.
The comforter's fallen half off the bed, and Mark along with it, one leg and an arm hanging over the edge. He grumbles and shifts, still in a haze of half-sleep, and the movement starts to carry him over the edge of the bed, so he almost falls. Automatically, not even fully awake, Benny reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him back against him snugly, and Mark fits himself against his side with a familiar comfort.
"What time is it?" A woman's arm slips over Benny's waist, her fingers gliding lightly down Mark's side before her hand comes to rest on his hip while she presses her face against Benny's back, shielding her eyes from the light. It's not usual to have her there, almost surprising to have her smooth skin against them, her small frame crowding the already tiny bed, but it fits, her presence, like something's just fallen into place.
Mark makes a soft, noncommital noise probably best translated as I don't know, and does it really matter? Benny smiles faintly and answers, "Before noon."
Maureen groans softly. "Too early."
Mark reaches up to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "You wanna stay?" he asks, trying not to sound too hopeful, and glad his back is against Benny so he can't see his expression. "For a while?"
There's a moment of silence, and then Maureen smiles, lightly squeezing Mark's hand. "Sure."
And they fall into silence, but a comfortable silence, full of warmth and languid comfort and light, and the last puzzle piece seems to have fit right in, Mark curled against Benny's chest and Maureen's slender form stretched out at Benny's back, arm still draped over the both of them, quietly possessive. Neither of them mind all that much, and they fall into a drowsy half-sleep as the light continues to creep into the room and brightens bit by bit, illuminating discarded clothes and rumpled sheets and tangled bodies, sure signs of sex, companionship and something approaching love.