Secret Santa for flipflop_diva
Title: All that I am and all that I'll be
Author: irinafan
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Wordcount: 6506
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Derek and Addison play a little game of pretending until Addison forgets to keep playing for one night. Secret Santa for flipflop_diva.
Note: I'm so sorry this is so late (Writersblock =( ). Also, I have no idea what this is. It is certainly not fluff though. I hope you'll like it anyways. =)
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
***
If there is something to be said about Addison and Derek Shepherd, it is that they’re both rather amazing actors.
In fact, they were so good at acting, they might even have fooled Mark Sloan, if he hadn’t known both of them for as long as he actually did.
It was the 10-year anniversary of the day Addison walked down the aisle in that amazing white dress of hers, the 10-year anniversary of Mark catching himself wishing he was the one waiting for her at the end.
10 years ago, Mark witnessed Derek’s eyes lighting up at the sight of Addison and her eyes almost brimming with tears of joy in return.
Today, at their 10-year-anniversary-party, everyone witnessed Derek’s eyes lighting up and Addison’s eyes brimming with tears, again. Everyone - except for Mark.
Mark saw Derek forcing his features into a seemingly genuine smile, and Addison squeezing her eyes long enough to produce a few shimmering tears. He saw how Addison giggled at something her husband said in a rather girlish voice, which didn’t belong to Addison at all. He saw how Derek wrapped his arm around Addison’s waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, while Addison barely managed to control the surprised look on her face.
He was so sick of it. He wanted to throttle them both. He wanted to shake them, he wanted to yell at them, tell them to wake the fuck up and stop this endless game of always pretending, pretending, pretending.
Instead he’d been playing along for what seemed an eternity, an eternity of two entire years. The thing that pissed him off the most, was that neither of them confided in him. He’d asked, a few times, when he noticed how Derek started staying at the hospital over night, when he met Addison with red, puffy eyes, when he didn’t catch the two of them having sex anywhere in their house, their car or an on-call-room anymore.
„Everything’s fine.“
„Everything’s wonderful.“
„No, we’re good.“
„She’s amazing.“
„I love him.“
That was all he always got.
For a period of two months, he joined in into their denial. He told himself that he was imagining things. He scolded himself for butting in. He considered that maybe he was wishing that something was wrong with his two married friends because one of them was Addison and maybe he wanted things to come to an end.
Two years later, he still hadn’t called either one out on it. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he was an ass and enjoyed seeing them suffer after they’d rubbed their happiness into his face for years. But no, they were his two best friends and he just wanted to see them happy. Preferably with each other. (Ignoring the small voice at the back of his mind that always seemed to want to say something else.)
Somehow, at the end of the anniversary party, he found himself staying at the brownstone over night. Addison and Derek both insisted he stay in the guest room, after he’d drunken a maximum of three drinks.
And now, instead of sleeping, he spent his time staring at the wooden ceiling above his head, musing about the marriage of his two best friends.
He wondered, how they both behaved when they were completely alone with each other. They put on an act for their best friend, but did they also put on an act for each other? Or maybe they couldn’t stand being alone with each other anymore because of said pretending. That would also explain why they spent as much time as possible apart from each other.
Mark was just about to turn over and finally go to sleep, when a few unmistakable sounds caught his ear from down the corridor. He groaned and tried to put a pillow over his head. Some things apparently never changed.
***
„Good Morning!“, Addion chirped brightly at him, standing at the coffee maker.
„Morning“, he grumbled back and watched as Addison filled a cup with coffee and slid it down the counter towards Derek, who was browsing through the morning paper.
„Would you like some coffee?“, she asked him. He nodded and sat down at the table, staring at the two of them. Everything still seemed to be the same.
He could say something right now. He could finally get his act together and call them out on it. Somewhere along the road he’d admitted to himself that he was scared they might make him their scapegoat afterwards. It’d all be his fault, and they were his best (only) friends. But he could say something right now, and maybe they’d wake up and try to save what was left of their marriage.
Instead he took his coffee from Addison’s hands and proceeded to watch them both quietly. Derek was still reading the newspaper, Addison was leaning against the counter, taking sips from her own mug of steaming liquid from time to time while staring out of the window. This scene was not an unusual one to Mark, it was their normal morning routine, and to an outsider might not have seemed any different than 10 years ago. Mark, however, found that there was a big difference: They didn’t feel like a unit anymore. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but in past years, even though Addison was standing at the counter and Derek was sitting at the table and they weren’t looking at each other, it had been clear that those two people belonged to each other. Now, Addison could have been standing in anyone’s kitchen, Derek could have been sitting on anyone’s table, that weird sense of belonging wasn’t there anymore to Mark.
It was moments like these, when they weren’t actively doing anything to hold up the pretense but just being, that Mark felt the loss of their connection the most. He’d have given a lot to be able to look behind their facades and get an idea of what they were feeling. He wasn’t even sure if they were both aware of what was going on, or if they were way too far into this pretending thing to even notice or to be able to admit to themselves that they were not the shining couple anymore they presented to everyone around them.
He gave a little sigh that seemed to reverberate in the quiet room and caused both Derek and Addison to look up at him.
„What?“, Derek asked, peering over his newspaper at Mark.
He looked back and forth between them, almost tempted to say something, but, as usual, didn’t have
the guts.
„Nothing“, he answered, and Derek raised an eyebrow. He folded up his newspaper carefully and got up, taking a large last gulp from his coffee cup.
„Well, I have to go. I have a brain tumor to operate at 8.30. I’ll see you later.“
Mark nodded and watched as Derek made his way over to Addison, placed a hand on her hip and gave her a quick, half-hearted kiss on the cheek (He flashed back to Derek pressing Addison against the counter and the two of them making out until Mark had to alert them to his presence by coughing loudly). Her answering smile was far too big for Mark’s taste, and when she said „Bye, honey!“ to Derek’s retreating back, he almost wanted to roll his eyes.
But it was when Derek waved back to her and Addison called after him „I’ll miss you!“, just before the door closed, that Mark snapped.
„No, you won’t.“, he muttered under his breath and took another sip from his coffee.
„I’m sorry, did you say something?“, Addison said, turning back to him.
Always pretending. His hands were itching to get up and shake her until she finally came to her senses. Instead he tightened his hands around the coffee mug and tried to calm himself.
„You heard me quite well, Addison.“, he said and looked back up at her. She just turned around, walked over to the sink, grabbing Derek’s mug from the table and turned the water on.
Screw it, Mark thought to himself and, having made a sudden decision, downed the rest of his coffee with one large gulp before taking a deep breath.
„You were faking it last night.“, he said loudly.
Her hands stopped cleaning the mug immediately. „I’m sorry?“, she said again, her back still to him.
„Last night with Derek, you were faking it“, he repeated, feeling reckless.
She froze up completely and stayed with her back to him for a couple of seconds before turning around to him slowly.
The night before, he’d put the pillow over his head and closed his eyes, trying to muffle the sounds from down the hall when he’d noticed that something was just off and his eyes had snapped open again. He hadn’t stayed over in ages, in fact, he thought it might have been more than two years that he last slept at the Brownstone, but he found himself wondering how long this had been going on.
Addison was staring at him, lost for words, a look of something between panic and shock on her face, her hands still wet in the sink.
„I have no idea - “
„Oh please, Addison, I was just three doors down the hall, I heard you two. And I know what a woman sounds like when she’s faking it - “
He broke off, seeing the look on her face - the panicked and shocked expression had changed to a sneer, her wet hands were now firmly implanted on her hips. He should have known that Addison, when being driven into a corner, would use every opening possible to attack back .
„Oh, so the great Mark Sloan couldn’t - “
„Don’t even try making this about me, Addison. I’m not perfect, and yes, there have been women who’ve been faking it, I’ve learned a lot from them. But this is about you, and last night you were-“
„I wasn’t faking it, Mark!“, she almost yelled back. „You have no idea what-“
„Don’t give me that bullshit, Addison, I know exactly what you sound like when you come, and-“
„NO, YOU DON’T! YOU AND I NEVER HAD SEX, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WISH WE HAD!“
The answering silence to this outburst was deafening. It rung with more than a decade of unsaid things that neither of them had ever touched upon, not even acknowledged their existence. Mark hadn’t been aware that she even had any idea about what he wouldn’t even admit to himself.
They were standing on opposites corners of the Shepherd kitchen, both breathing heavily, Addison still staring at him furiously, dish-soap from her fingertips soaking her blouse and skirt. How often had he imagined placing his hands right there on the curve of her hips and pulling her closer......his shoulders slumped in defeat.
„That may be so, - “ he started quietly, breaking off when he noticed the bitterness in his voice and the double meaning of his words.
„No, we never did“, he started again, „but I spent three and a half years in the room next door having to listen to you and Derek going at it over and over again. I know what you sound like when you come, Addison, and last night? You were faking it.“
„Get out.“ It was no more than a quiet hiss, but Mark caught it anyways.
„Addison, I-“
„GET.OUT.OF.MY.HOUSE!“, she yelled, pointing a still-dripping finger towards the entrance.
Grabbing his keys from the kitchen table and taking one last look at her furious face, he went. He felt her eyes burning holes into his back all the way to the front door.
***
The following six months were, by far, the worst of Mark’s entire life.
Addison didn’t talk to him anymore. She never called, she never watched one of his surgeries and she did her best to avoid him even when he was visiting Derek at the brownstone. Naturally, he never stayed over.
The first two weeks after their fight in the kitchen, Addison did her best to keep Mark and Derek away from each other. She found random things for Derek to do in the house, as the attending in charge of the OR board for the month, scheduled all their surgeries so that one of them was always operating, and whenever Mark and Derek did have a chance to talk, she paged Derek or turned up out of
nowhere to participate in their conversation.
She kept this up until Mark left her an angry voicemail, promising not to tell Derek that his wife was turning into an actress between the sheets (he’d never wanted to tell him anyways).
The worst thing though, was that Mark didn’t just play along with their pretending anymore, no, he’d become a part of it. Whenever Addison and him did spend time together (only in combination with Derek), she pretended that everything was fine, that they were still best friends and that the fight in the kitchen never occurred.
On top of that, since that moment in the kitchen, something between them seemed to have shifted. He’d always found it difficult not to stare at her, but now he often found her staring back at him.
Whenever he caught her doing it, he got the weirdest feeling in his stomach that he should have denied it when she accused him of wanting to sleep with her. It didn’t make the whole thing any easier, and he had more trouble than usual to keep thoughts like that out of his head.
He could repeat the phrase „She’s your best friend’s wife“ in his head only so long until it got obsolete.
***
Summer came, and with it the time for Mark’s and Derek’s annual fishing trip. They were sitting in the kitchen of the Brownstone, inspecting their equipment (one fishing rod for each of them plus a spare - check) when Derek - who was currently busy rolling up two lines after making sure there were no tears - noticed that he’d left his baits upstairs.
„I’ll get them for you“, Mark offered, already halfway out the door.
„Thanks, man, they’re in my study on the small table next to the window.“
Mark nodded and quickly made his way upstairs. He looked to both sides and stopped dead in his tracks when he came face to face with Addison wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
His breath caught in his throat. She’d apparently come straight out of the shower, her hair wet, her feet bare. She was looking at him wide-eyed, as surprised as he was, and pulled the robe tighter around her with shaking hands.
He swallowed. He realized rather suddenly that she wasn’t wearing anything under that robe and couldn’t help it, he had to rake his eyes up and down her body slowly, imagining what was underneath. When he met her eyes again, she was still staring at him with those wide eyes, but biting her lip nervously. Her own eyes traveled down his body now, and, when they met the obvious bulge in his pants, she gave a surprised gasp and dropped something small and golden from her right hand.
He didn’t even think about it or could remember how he got there, but he found himself at her feet, picking up the golden necklace he knew her mother had given to her. When he got back up again, he was standing much too close to her. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and god, he could smell her. Addison looked up into his eyes, and there were a few droplets of water still left on her eyelashes -
„Mark? Can you find them?“, Derek yelled from downstairs.
They jumped apart quickly and she was gone down the hall to the bedroom before he even had any chance to give her back the necklace. He quickly stuffed it into his right back pocket and made his way over to the study, desperately willing his growing erection to vanish.
„Sorry, lost my shoe on the stairs, I’ll be right down!“, he yelled back and quickly grabbed the small box with the bait from the table next to the window. He stopped behind the door, took deep breaths and tried to think of anything but Addison almost naked.
The necklace in the pocket of his jeans burned all the way down the stairs.
***
The following weeks, Mark never once had an opportunity to give the necklace back to Addison. He carried it around with him all the time, just in case he got around to giving it back, but he couldn’t help playing with it.
He’d let it swing back and forth between his fingers, watching the reflections on the gold, imagining it on Addison......it had always been hanging a bit too low, right between her breasts, dangling back and forth with every movement she made, every breath she took, right out of reach. And now it was right here in his own hands, or in his pocket.
He hated himself for playing with it or for thinking about it, or for taking it at all, or for getting into a situation with her that enabled him to take it.
It didn’t help the situation when he noticed how neither Derek nor Addison seemed to care about the state of their marriage anymore. Sure, they still played their game of pretending, but where Mark had caught Addison with red eyes after Derek had told her once again at the nurses’s station that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, he saw her only looking detached now. In fact, Derek didn’t even bother telling her anymore. When Addison told Derek that she wouldn’t be able to join him for lunch because she had a C-section, Derek didn’t even try to look disappointed anymore when nobody was looking, he just nodded his head.
Mark’s opportunity finally came on Derek’s 39th birthday. They were going out to a fancy restaurant somewhere in the middle of Manhattan, where Derek’s mother and sisters would join them, plus a couple of friends and colleagues from the hospital.
Mark and Derek were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Addison to get ready, when the phone rang the same moment Addison called Derek’s name from upstairs.
„It’s my mother“, Derek mouthed.
„Derek, I need your help, honey!“, Addison called again from upstairs.
„Mark, could you-?“, Derek whispered, holding the mouthpiece of the phone closed.
„No, come on- “, Mark groaned, trying to sound exasperated while doing his best to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him to get upstairs immediately.
„Please, it’s my birthday and she’ll bite my head off if-“
„Okay, okay“, Mark whispered back and slowly backed out of the kitchen. He took a deep breath before climbing the stairs and opened the door to Derek’s and Addison’s bedroom.
She was standing in front of the mirror, with her back to him, wearing a floor-length silvery-green dress with the zipper closed halfway up. She was bending over weirdly, her hands at her back, trying to get the zipper closed all the way.
„Ah, there you are.“, she said when she heard him open the door.
„I just can’t get this thing closed, I need some help...“, she gathered her hair in the back of her neck and bent her head down to give him better access.
He’d stopped in the doorframe, staring at her halfway bare back and then her hands swishing her hair from left to right, his mouth dry.
„Derek?“, she asked, her head still down.
Mark took a few steps towards her and put his hands hesitatingly on the back of her dress before carefully grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up as slowly as he could. He wanted to savor every moment he got to touch her and couldn’t help but let his hands linger on her shoulder blades in a slight caress.
„Not now, Derek.“, Addison said sharply before finally looking back up into the mirror.
„MARK!“, she gasped and turned around, jumping backwards, almost knocking into the mirror.
„What the hell?“, she hissed, staring at him with a mixture of shock and nervousness.
„He’s on the phone with his mother, he sent me upstairs to help you.“, Mark quickly explained, while trying to smile reassuringly. He felt a sudden burning sensation in his back pocket and remembered the necklace.
„Turn back around.“, he said quietly, staring at her intensely.
„What, I...no...“, she stammered in return.
„Turn back around, Addison.“ Their eyes locked, and she just looked at him for a couple of seconds before turning back to the mirror. He raised his hands and swept her hair to one side slowly, watching her close her eyes in the mirror. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and fastened it carefully back around her neck. She gasped when the cold metal hit her skin and opened her eyes again. She smiled when she recognized the necklace and locked eyes with him in the mirror.
He couldn’t help but let his hands rest on her shoulders, his thumbs softly caressing the base of her neck. He stepped a little closer and he could swear she was about to lean back into him when she suddenly pushed him away from her.
“Thank you so much, Mark!”, she said brightly, and seconds later the door was pushed open and Derek walked in.
“Look Derek, we found my mother’s necklace!”, she exclaimed, walking towards her husband. Mark was still standing in front of the mirror, sort of lost in a daze, looking after Addison confused.
***
“Fifteen men on a - a, dd-d-dead man's chest, YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF-“
CRASH.
“DEREK!”, two voices called out at the same time and hurried up the stairs towards the bundle at the top.
Mark and Addison had been paying the cab driver while Derek had already stumbled up the stairs to the front door of the brownstone.
“Are you okay, man?”, Mark asked worried, turning Derek around on his back.
“and A BOTTLE OF RUM!”, Derek kept singing and Addison rolled her eyes.
“He hasn’t been this drunk since college”, she sighed.
“And it isn’t even his 40th, birthday, only his 39th…”, Mark replied while each grabbed an arm of the drunken man laying on the stairs and proceeded to drag him into the house.
“You need a diet”, Mark groaned and dropped Derek on the king sized bed in the master bedroom.
“Excuse you, my hair s-s-s-till looks better than yours”, Derek slurred and almost poked his finger into Mark’s eye.
“Ouch.”, Mark exclaimed.
“Alli- Awwi- A-a-assison, why are there suddenly t-t-t-two of you?”
“One to kick your ass tomorrow morning and one to yell at you”, Addison replied and Mark chuckled, taking off Derek’s shoes.
“Now look, you’re gonna sleep this off, and tomorrow morning Addison’s gonna make you a nice big -“
“NO!”, Derek exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright again.
“Marrkieee, you need to s-s-s-taay tonight. S’s late, you canhave the gu-gue-the osser bedroom-“
Addison looked at Mark over Derek’s head and he saw the slightly panicked expression on her face.
“No really, I better get home, I’ve got-“
“NO! You hafta stay, - “ and Derek dropped his voice to a whisper and pointed a finger at Addison - “then she’ll y-y-yell less tomarraw, anditalwayshurtsmyheadsobad!”, and he let himself drop back onto the mattress dramatically.
Mark was looking back and forth between Derek and Addison now, trying to decide what to do, and was just about to find a way out of this, when Derek came up once again.
“P-p-pwomise me you’ll stay, Mark”, he said, and Mark had no other option but to nod his head and silently say “I promise”, before Derek fell back onto the mattress again and the next sound from him was a loud snore.
Mark sighed and took a deep breath before looking up into Addison’s face. Her lips were only visible as a thin line and she was looking rather pissed off.
“Addison, I-“
“I’m gonna get the guestroom ready for you.”, she interrupted him coldly and got up to leave the room.
Mark sighed and watched his best friend sleep for a while before getting up and following Addison to the bedroom. Derek could be immensely funny when being drunk, the unfunny part about it was that once he fell asleep, nothing would wake him up again until he hadn’t slept at least 5 hours. Entire parties had gone on with Derek asleep somewhere in a corner, sometimes right next to the loudspeakers. Addison, who’d had quite a lot of trouble getting Derek back home from parties like that, used to call it “Derek’s drunken coma.”
When Mark opened the guestroom door, Addison was just placing a towel and a toothbrush on the bed. She turned around when she heard him opening the door and walked right past him out of it. “You know where the bathroom is”, she said briskly and vanished down the hall.
“Good Night!”, Mark called after her but didn’t get a response. He sighed.
***
Mark couldn’t sleep. It was too hot, so he took of his shirt, then it was too cold, but he was too lazy to get up and find the t-shirt on the floor again, so he pulled the covers around him more tightly. He tossed and turned, swearing lightly under his breath before giving up and throwing the covers away from him completely.
He knew that the temperature had nothing to do with the reason why he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts kept returning to the bedroom three doors down the hall, where his drunk best friend was sleeping the alcohol off and his best friend’s wife was laying next to him, probably wearing not all that much…
Mark groaned and pressed his hands into his face before getting up, thinking that a cold shower was exactly what he needed right now.
He stepped into the hallway, squinting momentarily into the darkness and took a step forward before his eyes fell on a figure on the other side of the hallway.
She was, in fact, not wearing much, just an old shirt of Derek’s that barely reached mid-thigh. The moonlight was playing lightly on her legs every time the tree behind the window in the hallway moved, and Mark found himself completely entranced.
She’d stopped walking forward the moment she saw him as well, and only when her eyes traveled up and down his body did he realize that he’d taken off his shirt and was only wearing his boxers.
He saw her swallow and then look away, before she looked back up and had plastered a completely disinterested expression on her face again. She stepped forward slowly, her feet barely making a sound on the parquet flooring, and he figured out she’d been, just as he was, on her way to the bathroom.
He stepped forward as well, and she took another one, and they were walking right towards each other, both trying to reach the bathroom first.
Somewhere along the way, the disinterested mask slipped from her face and he caught her staring at him again, and sped up a little. They both knew he’d reach the bathroom first, as they were getting closer and closer to each other, and she veered off to the next door to her left, opening it and walking through. He followed her immediately.
The door closed behind him with a finality that was only underlined by the key turning in the lock. She turned around at the sound and stared at him wide-eyed, looking back and forth between his face and the raised hand with the dangling key a few times.
He took a step forward and she took a step backward, a little different from the hallway now, another step and another step, until her back hit the wall and she gave a surprised gasp.
He slowly followed her and watched her breathing turn shallow the closer he got. He stepped as close as he could to her without actually touching, holding the key away from her, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes where on the key when she leaned forward, stretching herself, her entire upper body pressing against his own. He could feel her breasts pressing against him with only one thin layer of fabric between them, and when her fingers closed around the key, he let her take it, groaning lightly.
She stopped at the sound, her breath hitting his neck, and shivered. He closed his eyes when she pulled back and waited for her to move away to the door entirely, when he heard a metallic sound.
His eyes snapped open, and she was still standing with her back against the wall, right in front of him, her arm outstretched, the key somewhere on the floor out of her reach, smiling at him nervously.
It was his turn to stare at her wide-eyed, and it took him a few moments to get his breathing back to normal again.
He reached out towards her, his fingers tentatively closing around the lower end of the shirt she was wearing, and when he didn’t encounter any protest, he started to move it up slowly, amazed when she raised her arms so he could pull it off over her head.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear. His eyes tried to drink it in all at once, and he took a step backward, just letting them travel over her entire body slowly, trying to memorize every single little mole. He took his time, and she got nervous underneath his gaze, her hands trying to hold on to something but only meeting bare wall.
Mark finally stepped forward and placed his shaking hands right there, on the curve between her waist and her hips, right where he’d always dreamed off. His fingers caressed the skin and he finally closed the last remaining space between them, pressing his entire body against hers, feeling everything his eyes had just seen.
He buried his head in her hair, breathing her in, smelling her, and her arms came up around his neck, pulling him down a little. When he pulled back, Addison’s face was right there, her eyes looking up into his, and she leaned up and kissed him.
The moment their tongues touched, something snapped and they came out of their trance and realized that this was real, it was actually happening. His right hand shot down her backside, pressing her forward, into him, her hips gave a little jolt forward, pressing even deeper into him. And then his hands where everywhere, touching her face, her stomach, her breasts, he leaned down to taste one of her hardened nipples, and she made all those wonderful noises in return, bit his neck and thrust her hands downwards to get him out of his boxers. There wasn’t time to step out of them, she just pulled them down and stopped all movement when one of his hands found their way between her legs.
He groaned at the slippery wetness he found, his fingers lightly stroking and touching. She gasped when he slid one finger into her, and rocked forward against his hand when he added a second finger. Moments later, she was batting his hand away and kissing him fiercely while rubbing herself against his erection trapped between their stomachs.
She raised one leg and wrapped it around his waist when they both froze as his tip was suddenly exactly in the right place. And he just couldn’t do anything but thrust forward and into her, into that slippery wetness. She gave a strangled scream and her nails dug into his back, before wrapping her other leg around his waist and slowly hoisting herself upward with his help.
Not one of his dreams could ever come close to what it felt like to be actually inside of her. He wanted to give her a few moments, but she had other ideas, tilting her hips upwards and urging him on. He couldn’t help but thrust forward, hard, and winced at her gasp, but when her mouth found his and she kissed him again, he realized it hadn’t been a gasp of pain but one of pleasure. His hands went to her hips, holding her against the wall firmly, and he moved forward a little harder, again, and when she moaned he gave up control and started moving as hard and as fast as he could. Her arms tightened around his back, she buried her face into his neck and answered every thrust with a little gasp until he was driving into her so hard he knew it’d leave bruises the next morning.
Her mouth was right at his ear, and he recognized the small moan that quickly turned louder with every thrust. He tightened his grip on her hips, pulling out as far as he could before moving back into her every time, and god, now the moans had turned into little screams, and he’d never known that those came with a tightening of her inner muscles, and then she started trembling and digging her nails even harder into his back, and two more thrusts and she screamed into his ear and contracted around him violently. Her mouth found his again and her tongue and the throbbing all around him pulled him over the edge with her, groaning into her mouth.
He slid out of her and let her down as soon as her legs had stopped shaking. She didn’t look at him when she moved away, took the key from the floor and vanished into the direction of the door, and as soon as she was through it, his own legs gave out and he tumbled to the floor.
Mark just laid there, on his back, trying to process what just happened, when it came back to him that his best friend was just two doors down the hall.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
After pondering for a while why he didn’t feel bad (probably because Derek and Addison had just been coexisting for the past three years and he was still high after finally getting to well, have her) he got up to make a trip to the bathroom.
In the hallway, the sound of the shower greeted him. When he tried the door handle to the bathroom, it wasn’t locked. Mark understood this as an invitation and quietly closed it behind him after stepping inside. He just watched her through the glass walls of the shower for a while, watched her hands spreading the soapy shower gel all over her body. She didn’t seem to be aware of his presence and started a little when he stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle.
She moved to get her shampoo, but he took it from her hands and slowly massaged it into her hair to her moans. He helped her wash it out and proceeded to caress and stroke every part of her body that he could reach. His growing erection was trapped against her back, and when he moved his hands between her legs and found her, once again, warm and wet, he slowly moved her forwards until she was pressed against the tiled wall and slid into her from behind. She braced herself against the wall and he stopped for a moment, his mouth moving to her ear.
“Do you feel guilty?” he whispered into it.
She was quiet for a moment, didn’t move. Then her arm wrapped around his neck and she pulled him down towards her to kiss him.
“No, not right now”, she said after pulling back, looking into his eyes. “I know I should, but I don’t. Do you?”
“No”, he answered and kissed her again.
This time, she screamed his name when she came.
By the time they got out of the shower, they had used up all the hot water and their skin was all wizened.
He wrapped her into a big towel and took his time drying her off, before she did the same to him, and when they were still busy trying to find wet places on each other’s bodies half an hour later, he found himself inside Addison again, who was sitting on the bathroom counter.
They left the bathroom together and stopped right outside it. She quickly went to retrieve her shirt and his boxers from the next room, and reached up to kiss him when she handed them back to him. He smiled down at her before she went back to her husband’s bedroom down the dark hallway only illuminated by moonlight. He stared at her naked, retreating back, and watched her pull the shirt back on right outside the bedroom.
“Addison!”, he called, and she turned back to him. He smiled and tried to memorize the way she looked when she smiled back, her hair still half wet, in that big oversized t-shirt.
He stayed in the hallway for a while after the door had closed behind her, trying to savor that moment. He knew that, no matter what they’d told each other in the shower earlier, they’d feel terribly guilty the next morning.
***
The moment Mark woke up, he knew that his prediction had come true. It took him barely a second to remember the night’s happenings, and then there was a big warm ball in his stomach that was connected to Addison smiling, Addison naked, Addison kissing him - and there was another heavy, cold ball, when he remembered that Addison was his best friends wife. To his surprise though, the warm feeling in his stomach outweighed the cold.
He stepped into the kitchen, where Derek was sitting over a steaming mug, his hands cradling his head, the newspaper untouched on the desk, and Addison, Addison barely looked at him before she handed him his own cup of coffee.
Derek groaned something that sounded a lot like “Never alcohol again” when Mark greeted him with a cheery good morning, while trying to catch Addison’s eyes to gauge her mood.
A few minutes later, Derek looked reluctantly at his watch, took another large sip of coffee and announced that he had to leave. He just got up and walked slowly towards the door, not even bothering to throw more than a feeble “Bye” to Addison. Mark watched this development with raised eyebrows, noticing how Addison barely responded and wasn’t even looking after him as usual. She was standing at the sink, staring outside, and remained that way until the front door slammed.
She turned around and her eyes found his, never wavering, and as soon as the sound of Derek’s car had vanished in the distance, he found himself pressed against the kitchen counter, one of her hands down his pants, her mouth on his neck.
Well, at least she’d stopped pretending now.
***
Author: irinafan
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Wordcount: 6506
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Derek and Addison play a little game of pretending until Addison forgets to keep playing for one night. Secret Santa for flipflop_diva.
Note: I'm so sorry this is so late (Writersblock =( ). Also, I have no idea what this is. It is certainly not fluff though. I hope you'll like it anyways. =)
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
***
If there is something to be said about Addison and Derek Shepherd, it is that they’re both rather amazing actors.
In fact, they were so good at acting, they might even have fooled Mark Sloan, if he hadn’t known both of them for as long as he actually did.
It was the 10-year anniversary of the day Addison walked down the aisle in that amazing white dress of hers, the 10-year anniversary of Mark catching himself wishing he was the one waiting for her at the end.
10 years ago, Mark witnessed Derek’s eyes lighting up at the sight of Addison and her eyes almost brimming with tears of joy in return.
Today, at their 10-year-anniversary-party, everyone witnessed Derek’s eyes lighting up and Addison’s eyes brimming with tears, again. Everyone - except for Mark.
Mark saw Derek forcing his features into a seemingly genuine smile, and Addison squeezing her eyes long enough to produce a few shimmering tears. He saw how Addison giggled at something her husband said in a rather girlish voice, which didn’t belong to Addison at all. He saw how Derek wrapped his arm around Addison’s waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, while Addison barely managed to control the surprised look on her face.
He was so sick of it. He wanted to throttle them both. He wanted to shake them, he wanted to yell at them, tell them to wake the fuck up and stop this endless game of always pretending, pretending, pretending.
Instead he’d been playing along for what seemed an eternity, an eternity of two entire years. The thing that pissed him off the most, was that neither of them confided in him. He’d asked, a few times, when he noticed how Derek started staying at the hospital over night, when he met Addison with red, puffy eyes, when he didn’t catch the two of them having sex anywhere in their house, their car or an on-call-room anymore.
„Everything’s fine.“
„Everything’s wonderful.“
„No, we’re good.“
„She’s amazing.“
„I love him.“
That was all he always got.
For a period of two months, he joined in into their denial. He told himself that he was imagining things. He scolded himself for butting in. He considered that maybe he was wishing that something was wrong with his two married friends because one of them was Addison and maybe he wanted things to come to an end.
Two years later, he still hadn’t called either one out on it. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he was an ass and enjoyed seeing them suffer after they’d rubbed their happiness into his face for years. But no, they were his two best friends and he just wanted to see them happy. Preferably with each other. (Ignoring the small voice at the back of his mind that always seemed to want to say something else.)
Somehow, at the end of the anniversary party, he found himself staying at the brownstone over night. Addison and Derek both insisted he stay in the guest room, after he’d drunken a maximum of three drinks.
And now, instead of sleeping, he spent his time staring at the wooden ceiling above his head, musing about the marriage of his two best friends.
He wondered, how they both behaved when they were completely alone with each other. They put on an act for their best friend, but did they also put on an act for each other? Or maybe they couldn’t stand being alone with each other anymore because of said pretending. That would also explain why they spent as much time as possible apart from each other.
Mark was just about to turn over and finally go to sleep, when a few unmistakable sounds caught his ear from down the corridor. He groaned and tried to put a pillow over his head. Some things apparently never changed.
***
„Good Morning!“, Addion chirped brightly at him, standing at the coffee maker.
„Morning“, he grumbled back and watched as Addison filled a cup with coffee and slid it down the counter towards Derek, who was browsing through the morning paper.
„Would you like some coffee?“, she asked him. He nodded and sat down at the table, staring at the two of them. Everything still seemed to be the same.
He could say something right now. He could finally get his act together and call them out on it. Somewhere along the road he’d admitted to himself that he was scared they might make him their scapegoat afterwards. It’d all be his fault, and they were his best (only) friends. But he could say something right now, and maybe they’d wake up and try to save what was left of their marriage.
Instead he took his coffee from Addison’s hands and proceeded to watch them both quietly. Derek was still reading the newspaper, Addison was leaning against the counter, taking sips from her own mug of steaming liquid from time to time while staring out of the window. This scene was not an unusual one to Mark, it was their normal morning routine, and to an outsider might not have seemed any different than 10 years ago. Mark, however, found that there was a big difference: They didn’t feel like a unit anymore. He couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but in past years, even though Addison was standing at the counter and Derek was sitting at the table and they weren’t looking at each other, it had been clear that those two people belonged to each other. Now, Addison could have been standing in anyone’s kitchen, Derek could have been sitting on anyone’s table, that weird sense of belonging wasn’t there anymore to Mark.
It was moments like these, when they weren’t actively doing anything to hold up the pretense but just being, that Mark felt the loss of their connection the most. He’d have given a lot to be able to look behind their facades and get an idea of what they were feeling. He wasn’t even sure if they were both aware of what was going on, or if they were way too far into this pretending thing to even notice or to be able to admit to themselves that they were not the shining couple anymore they presented to everyone around them.
He gave a little sigh that seemed to reverberate in the quiet room and caused both Derek and Addison to look up at him.
„What?“, Derek asked, peering over his newspaper at Mark.
He looked back and forth between them, almost tempted to say something, but, as usual, didn’t have
the guts.
„Nothing“, he answered, and Derek raised an eyebrow. He folded up his newspaper carefully and got up, taking a large last gulp from his coffee cup.
„Well, I have to go. I have a brain tumor to operate at 8.30. I’ll see you later.“
Mark nodded and watched as Derek made his way over to Addison, placed a hand on her hip and gave her a quick, half-hearted kiss on the cheek (He flashed back to Derek pressing Addison against the counter and the two of them making out until Mark had to alert them to his presence by coughing loudly). Her answering smile was far too big for Mark’s taste, and when she said „Bye, honey!“ to Derek’s retreating back, he almost wanted to roll his eyes.
But it was when Derek waved back to her and Addison called after him „I’ll miss you!“, just before the door closed, that Mark snapped.
„No, you won’t.“, he muttered under his breath and took another sip from his coffee.
„I’m sorry, did you say something?“, Addison said, turning back to him.
Always pretending. His hands were itching to get up and shake her until she finally came to her senses. Instead he tightened his hands around the coffee mug and tried to calm himself.
„You heard me quite well, Addison.“, he said and looked back up at her. She just turned around, walked over to the sink, grabbing Derek’s mug from the table and turned the water on.
Screw it, Mark thought to himself and, having made a sudden decision, downed the rest of his coffee with one large gulp before taking a deep breath.
„You were faking it last night.“, he said loudly.
Her hands stopped cleaning the mug immediately. „I’m sorry?“, she said again, her back still to him.
„Last night with Derek, you were faking it“, he repeated, feeling reckless.
She froze up completely and stayed with her back to him for a couple of seconds before turning around to him slowly.
The night before, he’d put the pillow over his head and closed his eyes, trying to muffle the sounds from down the hall when he’d noticed that something was just off and his eyes had snapped open again. He hadn’t stayed over in ages, in fact, he thought it might have been more than two years that he last slept at the Brownstone, but he found himself wondering how long this had been going on.
Addison was staring at him, lost for words, a look of something between panic and shock on her face, her hands still wet in the sink.
„I have no idea - “
„Oh please, Addison, I was just three doors down the hall, I heard you two. And I know what a woman sounds like when she’s faking it - “
He broke off, seeing the look on her face - the panicked and shocked expression had changed to a sneer, her wet hands were now firmly implanted on her hips. He should have known that Addison, when being driven into a corner, would use every opening possible to attack back .
„Oh, so the great Mark Sloan couldn’t - “
„Don’t even try making this about me, Addison. I’m not perfect, and yes, there have been women who’ve been faking it, I’ve learned a lot from them. But this is about you, and last night you were-“
„I wasn’t faking it, Mark!“, she almost yelled back. „You have no idea what-“
„Don’t give me that bullshit, Addison, I know exactly what you sound like when you come, and-“
„NO, YOU DON’T! YOU AND I NEVER HAD SEX, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WISH WE HAD!“
The answering silence to this outburst was deafening. It rung with more than a decade of unsaid things that neither of them had ever touched upon, not even acknowledged their existence. Mark hadn’t been aware that she even had any idea about what he wouldn’t even admit to himself.
They were standing on opposites corners of the Shepherd kitchen, both breathing heavily, Addison still staring at him furiously, dish-soap from her fingertips soaking her blouse and skirt. How often had he imagined placing his hands right there on the curve of her hips and pulling her closer......his shoulders slumped in defeat.
„That may be so, - “ he started quietly, breaking off when he noticed the bitterness in his voice and the double meaning of his words.
„No, we never did“, he started again, „but I spent three and a half years in the room next door having to listen to you and Derek going at it over and over again. I know what you sound like when you come, Addison, and last night? You were faking it.“
„Get out.“ It was no more than a quiet hiss, but Mark caught it anyways.
„Addison, I-“
„GET.OUT.OF.MY.HOUSE!“, she yelled, pointing a still-dripping finger towards the entrance.
Grabbing his keys from the kitchen table and taking one last look at her furious face, he went. He felt her eyes burning holes into his back all the way to the front door.
***
The following six months were, by far, the worst of Mark’s entire life.
Addison didn’t talk to him anymore. She never called, she never watched one of his surgeries and she did her best to avoid him even when he was visiting Derek at the brownstone. Naturally, he never stayed over.
The first two weeks after their fight in the kitchen, Addison did her best to keep Mark and Derek away from each other. She found random things for Derek to do in the house, as the attending in charge of the OR board for the month, scheduled all their surgeries so that one of them was always operating, and whenever Mark and Derek did have a chance to talk, she paged Derek or turned up out of
nowhere to participate in their conversation.
She kept this up until Mark left her an angry voicemail, promising not to tell Derek that his wife was turning into an actress between the sheets (he’d never wanted to tell him anyways).
The worst thing though, was that Mark didn’t just play along with their pretending anymore, no, he’d become a part of it. Whenever Addison and him did spend time together (only in combination with Derek), she pretended that everything was fine, that they were still best friends and that the fight in the kitchen never occurred.
On top of that, since that moment in the kitchen, something between them seemed to have shifted. He’d always found it difficult not to stare at her, but now he often found her staring back at him.
Whenever he caught her doing it, he got the weirdest feeling in his stomach that he should have denied it when she accused him of wanting to sleep with her. It didn’t make the whole thing any easier, and he had more trouble than usual to keep thoughts like that out of his head.
He could repeat the phrase „She’s your best friend’s wife“ in his head only so long until it got obsolete.
***
Summer came, and with it the time for Mark’s and Derek’s annual fishing trip. They were sitting in the kitchen of the Brownstone, inspecting their equipment (one fishing rod for each of them plus a spare - check) when Derek - who was currently busy rolling up two lines after making sure there were no tears - noticed that he’d left his baits upstairs.
„I’ll get them for you“, Mark offered, already halfway out the door.
„Thanks, man, they’re in my study on the small table next to the window.“
Mark nodded and quickly made his way upstairs. He looked to both sides and stopped dead in his tracks when he came face to face with Addison wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
His breath caught in his throat. She’d apparently come straight out of the shower, her hair wet, her feet bare. She was looking at him wide-eyed, as surprised as he was, and pulled the robe tighter around her with shaking hands.
He swallowed. He realized rather suddenly that she wasn’t wearing anything under that robe and couldn’t help it, he had to rake his eyes up and down her body slowly, imagining what was underneath. When he met her eyes again, she was still staring at him with those wide eyes, but biting her lip nervously. Her own eyes traveled down his body now, and, when they met the obvious bulge in his pants, she gave a surprised gasp and dropped something small and golden from her right hand.
He didn’t even think about it or could remember how he got there, but he found himself at her feet, picking up the golden necklace he knew her mother had given to her. When he got back up again, he was standing much too close to her. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and god, he could smell her. Addison looked up into his eyes, and there were a few droplets of water still left on her eyelashes -
„Mark? Can you find them?“, Derek yelled from downstairs.
They jumped apart quickly and she was gone down the hall to the bedroom before he even had any chance to give her back the necklace. He quickly stuffed it into his right back pocket and made his way over to the study, desperately willing his growing erection to vanish.
„Sorry, lost my shoe on the stairs, I’ll be right down!“, he yelled back and quickly grabbed the small box with the bait from the table next to the window. He stopped behind the door, took deep breaths and tried to think of anything but Addison almost naked.
The necklace in the pocket of his jeans burned all the way down the stairs.
***
The following weeks, Mark never once had an opportunity to give the necklace back to Addison. He carried it around with him all the time, just in case he got around to giving it back, but he couldn’t help playing with it.
He’d let it swing back and forth between his fingers, watching the reflections on the gold, imagining it on Addison......it had always been hanging a bit too low, right between her breasts, dangling back and forth with every movement she made, every breath she took, right out of reach. And now it was right here in his own hands, or in his pocket.
He hated himself for playing with it or for thinking about it, or for taking it at all, or for getting into a situation with her that enabled him to take it.
It didn’t help the situation when he noticed how neither Derek nor Addison seemed to care about the state of their marriage anymore. Sure, they still played their game of pretending, but where Mark had caught Addison with red eyes after Derek had told her once again at the nurses’s station that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, he saw her only looking detached now. In fact, Derek didn’t even bother telling her anymore. When Addison told Derek that she wouldn’t be able to join him for lunch because she had a C-section, Derek didn’t even try to look disappointed anymore when nobody was looking, he just nodded his head.
Mark’s opportunity finally came on Derek’s 39th birthday. They were going out to a fancy restaurant somewhere in the middle of Manhattan, where Derek’s mother and sisters would join them, plus a couple of friends and colleagues from the hospital.
Mark and Derek were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Addison to get ready, when the phone rang the same moment Addison called Derek’s name from upstairs.
„It’s my mother“, Derek mouthed.
„Derek, I need your help, honey!“, Addison called again from upstairs.
„Mark, could you-?“, Derek whispered, holding the mouthpiece of the phone closed.
„No, come on- “, Mark groaned, trying to sound exasperated while doing his best to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him to get upstairs immediately.
„Please, it’s my birthday and she’ll bite my head off if-“
„Okay, okay“, Mark whispered back and slowly backed out of the kitchen. He took a deep breath before climbing the stairs and opened the door to Derek’s and Addison’s bedroom.
She was standing in front of the mirror, with her back to him, wearing a floor-length silvery-green dress with the zipper closed halfway up. She was bending over weirdly, her hands at her back, trying to get the zipper closed all the way.
„Ah, there you are.“, she said when she heard him open the door.
„I just can’t get this thing closed, I need some help...“, she gathered her hair in the back of her neck and bent her head down to give him better access.
He’d stopped in the doorframe, staring at her halfway bare back and then her hands swishing her hair from left to right, his mouth dry.
„Derek?“, she asked, her head still down.
Mark took a few steps towards her and put his hands hesitatingly on the back of her dress before carefully grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up as slowly as he could. He wanted to savor every moment he got to touch her and couldn’t help but let his hands linger on her shoulder blades in a slight caress.
„Not now, Derek.“, Addison said sharply before finally looking back up into the mirror.
„MARK!“, she gasped and turned around, jumping backwards, almost knocking into the mirror.
„What the hell?“, she hissed, staring at him with a mixture of shock and nervousness.
„He’s on the phone with his mother, he sent me upstairs to help you.“, Mark quickly explained, while trying to smile reassuringly. He felt a sudden burning sensation in his back pocket and remembered the necklace.
„Turn back around.“, he said quietly, staring at her intensely.
„What, I...no...“, she stammered in return.
„Turn back around, Addison.“ Their eyes locked, and she just looked at him for a couple of seconds before turning back to the mirror. He raised his hands and swept her hair to one side slowly, watching her close her eyes in the mirror. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and fastened it carefully back around her neck. She gasped when the cold metal hit her skin and opened her eyes again. She smiled when she recognized the necklace and locked eyes with him in the mirror.
He couldn’t help but let his hands rest on her shoulders, his thumbs softly caressing the base of her neck. He stepped a little closer and he could swear she was about to lean back into him when she suddenly pushed him away from her.
“Thank you so much, Mark!”, she said brightly, and seconds later the door was pushed open and Derek walked in.
“Look Derek, we found my mother’s necklace!”, she exclaimed, walking towards her husband. Mark was still standing in front of the mirror, sort of lost in a daze, looking after Addison confused.
***
“Fifteen men on a - a, dd-d-dead man's chest, YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF-“
CRASH.
“DEREK!”, two voices called out at the same time and hurried up the stairs towards the bundle at the top.
Mark and Addison had been paying the cab driver while Derek had already stumbled up the stairs to the front door of the brownstone.
“Are you okay, man?”, Mark asked worried, turning Derek around on his back.
“and A BOTTLE OF RUM!”, Derek kept singing and Addison rolled her eyes.
“He hasn’t been this drunk since college”, she sighed.
“And it isn’t even his 40th, birthday, only his 39th…”, Mark replied while each grabbed an arm of the drunken man laying on the stairs and proceeded to drag him into the house.
“You need a diet”, Mark groaned and dropped Derek on the king sized bed in the master bedroom.
“Excuse you, my hair s-s-s-till looks better than yours”, Derek slurred and almost poked his finger into Mark’s eye.
“Ouch.”, Mark exclaimed.
“Alli- Awwi- A-a-assison, why are there suddenly t-t-t-two of you?”
“One to kick your ass tomorrow morning and one to yell at you”, Addison replied and Mark chuckled, taking off Derek’s shoes.
“Now look, you’re gonna sleep this off, and tomorrow morning Addison’s gonna make you a nice big -“
“NO!”, Derek exclaimed, suddenly sitting upright again.
“Marrkieee, you need to s-s-s-taay tonight. S’s late, you canhave the gu-gue-the osser bedroom-“
Addison looked at Mark over Derek’s head and he saw the slightly panicked expression on her face.
“No really, I better get home, I’ve got-“
“NO! You hafta stay, - “ and Derek dropped his voice to a whisper and pointed a finger at Addison - “then she’ll y-y-yell less tomarraw, anditalwayshurtsmyheadsobad!”, and he let himself drop back onto the mattress dramatically.
Mark was looking back and forth between Derek and Addison now, trying to decide what to do, and was just about to find a way out of this, when Derek came up once again.
“P-p-pwomise me you’ll stay, Mark”, he said, and Mark had no other option but to nod his head and silently say “I promise”, before Derek fell back onto the mattress again and the next sound from him was a loud snore.
Mark sighed and took a deep breath before looking up into Addison’s face. Her lips were only visible as a thin line and she was looking rather pissed off.
“Addison, I-“
“I’m gonna get the guestroom ready for you.”, she interrupted him coldly and got up to leave the room.
Mark sighed and watched his best friend sleep for a while before getting up and following Addison to the bedroom. Derek could be immensely funny when being drunk, the unfunny part about it was that once he fell asleep, nothing would wake him up again until he hadn’t slept at least 5 hours. Entire parties had gone on with Derek asleep somewhere in a corner, sometimes right next to the loudspeakers. Addison, who’d had quite a lot of trouble getting Derek back home from parties like that, used to call it “Derek’s drunken coma.”
When Mark opened the guestroom door, Addison was just placing a towel and a toothbrush on the bed. She turned around when she heard him opening the door and walked right past him out of it. “You know where the bathroom is”, she said briskly and vanished down the hall.
“Good Night!”, Mark called after her but didn’t get a response. He sighed.
***
Mark couldn’t sleep. It was too hot, so he took of his shirt, then it was too cold, but he was too lazy to get up and find the t-shirt on the floor again, so he pulled the covers around him more tightly. He tossed and turned, swearing lightly under his breath before giving up and throwing the covers away from him completely.
He knew that the temperature had nothing to do with the reason why he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts kept returning to the bedroom three doors down the hall, where his drunk best friend was sleeping the alcohol off and his best friend’s wife was laying next to him, probably wearing not all that much…
Mark groaned and pressed his hands into his face before getting up, thinking that a cold shower was exactly what he needed right now.
He stepped into the hallway, squinting momentarily into the darkness and took a step forward before his eyes fell on a figure on the other side of the hallway.
She was, in fact, not wearing much, just an old shirt of Derek’s that barely reached mid-thigh. The moonlight was playing lightly on her legs every time the tree behind the window in the hallway moved, and Mark found himself completely entranced.
She’d stopped walking forward the moment she saw him as well, and only when her eyes traveled up and down his body did he realize that he’d taken off his shirt and was only wearing his boxers.
He saw her swallow and then look away, before she looked back up and had plastered a completely disinterested expression on her face again. She stepped forward slowly, her feet barely making a sound on the parquet flooring, and he figured out she’d been, just as he was, on her way to the bathroom.
He stepped forward as well, and she took another one, and they were walking right towards each other, both trying to reach the bathroom first.
Somewhere along the way, the disinterested mask slipped from her face and he caught her staring at him again, and sped up a little. They both knew he’d reach the bathroom first, as they were getting closer and closer to each other, and she veered off to the next door to her left, opening it and walking through. He followed her immediately.
The door closed behind him with a finality that was only underlined by the key turning in the lock. She turned around at the sound and stared at him wide-eyed, looking back and forth between his face and the raised hand with the dangling key a few times.
He took a step forward and she took a step backward, a little different from the hallway now, another step and another step, until her back hit the wall and she gave a surprised gasp.
He slowly followed her and watched her breathing turn shallow the closer he got. He stepped as close as he could to her without actually touching, holding the key away from her, waiting for her reaction.
Her eyes where on the key when she leaned forward, stretching herself, her entire upper body pressing against his own. He could feel her breasts pressing against him with only one thin layer of fabric between them, and when her fingers closed around the key, he let her take it, groaning lightly.
She stopped at the sound, her breath hitting his neck, and shivered. He closed his eyes when she pulled back and waited for her to move away to the door entirely, when he heard a metallic sound.
His eyes snapped open, and she was still standing with her back against the wall, right in front of him, her arm outstretched, the key somewhere on the floor out of her reach, smiling at him nervously.
It was his turn to stare at her wide-eyed, and it took him a few moments to get his breathing back to normal again.
He reached out towards her, his fingers tentatively closing around the lower end of the shirt she was wearing, and when he didn’t encounter any protest, he started to move it up slowly, amazed when she raised her arms so he could pull it off over her head.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear. His eyes tried to drink it in all at once, and he took a step backward, just letting them travel over her entire body slowly, trying to memorize every single little mole. He took his time, and she got nervous underneath his gaze, her hands trying to hold on to something but only meeting bare wall.
Mark finally stepped forward and placed his shaking hands right there, on the curve between her waist and her hips, right where he’d always dreamed off. His fingers caressed the skin and he finally closed the last remaining space between them, pressing his entire body against hers, feeling everything his eyes had just seen.
He buried his head in her hair, breathing her in, smelling her, and her arms came up around his neck, pulling him down a little. When he pulled back, Addison’s face was right there, her eyes looking up into his, and she leaned up and kissed him.
The moment their tongues touched, something snapped and they came out of their trance and realized that this was real, it was actually happening. His right hand shot down her backside, pressing her forward, into him, her hips gave a little jolt forward, pressing even deeper into him. And then his hands where everywhere, touching her face, her stomach, her breasts, he leaned down to taste one of her hardened nipples, and she made all those wonderful noises in return, bit his neck and thrust her hands downwards to get him out of his boxers. There wasn’t time to step out of them, she just pulled them down and stopped all movement when one of his hands found their way between her legs.
He groaned at the slippery wetness he found, his fingers lightly stroking and touching. She gasped when he slid one finger into her, and rocked forward against his hand when he added a second finger. Moments later, she was batting his hand away and kissing him fiercely while rubbing herself against his erection trapped between their stomachs.
She raised one leg and wrapped it around his waist when they both froze as his tip was suddenly exactly in the right place. And he just couldn’t do anything but thrust forward and into her, into that slippery wetness. She gave a strangled scream and her nails dug into his back, before wrapping her other leg around his waist and slowly hoisting herself upward with his help.
Not one of his dreams could ever come close to what it felt like to be actually inside of her. He wanted to give her a few moments, but she had other ideas, tilting her hips upwards and urging him on. He couldn’t help but thrust forward, hard, and winced at her gasp, but when her mouth found his and she kissed him again, he realized it hadn’t been a gasp of pain but one of pleasure. His hands went to her hips, holding her against the wall firmly, and he moved forward a little harder, again, and when she moaned he gave up control and started moving as hard and as fast as he could. Her arms tightened around his back, she buried her face into his neck and answered every thrust with a little gasp until he was driving into her so hard he knew it’d leave bruises the next morning.
Her mouth was right at his ear, and he recognized the small moan that quickly turned louder with every thrust. He tightened his grip on her hips, pulling out as far as he could before moving back into her every time, and god, now the moans had turned into little screams, and he’d never known that those came with a tightening of her inner muscles, and then she started trembling and digging her nails even harder into his back, and two more thrusts and she screamed into his ear and contracted around him violently. Her mouth found his again and her tongue and the throbbing all around him pulled him over the edge with her, groaning into her mouth.
He slid out of her and let her down as soon as her legs had stopped shaking. She didn’t look at him when she moved away, took the key from the floor and vanished into the direction of the door, and as soon as she was through it, his own legs gave out and he tumbled to the floor.
Mark just laid there, on his back, trying to process what just happened, when it came back to him that his best friend was just two doors down the hall.
He couldn’t bring himself to care.
***
After pondering for a while why he didn’t feel bad (probably because Derek and Addison had just been coexisting for the past three years and he was still high after finally getting to well, have her) he got up to make a trip to the bathroom.
In the hallway, the sound of the shower greeted him. When he tried the door handle to the bathroom, it wasn’t locked. Mark understood this as an invitation and quietly closed it behind him after stepping inside. He just watched her through the glass walls of the shower for a while, watched her hands spreading the soapy shower gel all over her body. She didn’t seem to be aware of his presence and started a little when he stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle.
She moved to get her shampoo, but he took it from her hands and slowly massaged it into her hair to her moans. He helped her wash it out and proceeded to caress and stroke every part of her body that he could reach. His growing erection was trapped against her back, and when he moved his hands between her legs and found her, once again, warm and wet, he slowly moved her forwards until she was pressed against the tiled wall and slid into her from behind. She braced herself against the wall and he stopped for a moment, his mouth moving to her ear.
“Do you feel guilty?” he whispered into it.
She was quiet for a moment, didn’t move. Then her arm wrapped around his neck and she pulled him down towards her to kiss him.
“No, not right now”, she said after pulling back, looking into his eyes. “I know I should, but I don’t. Do you?”
“No”, he answered and kissed her again.
This time, she screamed his name when she came.
By the time they got out of the shower, they had used up all the hot water and their skin was all wizened.
He wrapped her into a big towel and took his time drying her off, before she did the same to him, and when they were still busy trying to find wet places on each other’s bodies half an hour later, he found himself inside Addison again, who was sitting on the bathroom counter.
They left the bathroom together and stopped right outside it. She quickly went to retrieve her shirt and his boxers from the next room, and reached up to kiss him when she handed them back to him. He smiled down at her before she went back to her husband’s bedroom down the dark hallway only illuminated by moonlight. He stared at her naked, retreating back, and watched her pull the shirt back on right outside the bedroom.
“Addison!”, he called, and she turned back to him. He smiled and tried to memorize the way she looked when she smiled back, her hair still half wet, in that big oversized t-shirt.
He stayed in the hallway for a while after the door had closed behind her, trying to savor that moment. He knew that, no matter what they’d told each other in the shower earlier, they’d feel terribly guilty the next morning.
***
The moment Mark woke up, he knew that his prediction had come true. It took him barely a second to remember the night’s happenings, and then there was a big warm ball in his stomach that was connected to Addison smiling, Addison naked, Addison kissing him - and there was another heavy, cold ball, when he remembered that Addison was his best friends wife. To his surprise though, the warm feeling in his stomach outweighed the cold.
He stepped into the kitchen, where Derek was sitting over a steaming mug, his hands cradling his head, the newspaper untouched on the desk, and Addison, Addison barely looked at him before she handed him his own cup of coffee.
Derek groaned something that sounded a lot like “Never alcohol again” when Mark greeted him with a cheery good morning, while trying to catch Addison’s eyes to gauge her mood.
A few minutes later, Derek looked reluctantly at his watch, took another large sip of coffee and announced that he had to leave. He just got up and walked slowly towards the door, not even bothering to throw more than a feeble “Bye” to Addison. Mark watched this development with raised eyebrows, noticing how Addison barely responded and wasn’t even looking after him as usual. She was standing at the sink, staring outside, and remained that way until the front door slammed.
She turned around and her eyes found his, never wavering, and as soon as the sound of Derek’s car had vanished in the distance, he found himself pressed against the kitchen counter, one of her hands down his pants, her mouth on his neck.
Well, at least she’d stopped pretending now.
***