fic The Slorres (Mark/Callie) pg13 chap 4, Map
Author Devylish
Title The Slorres
Chapter Map 4/6
Fandom Grey’s Anatomy
Pair Mark and Callie
Rating pg13
Words 1635
Warning/Spoiler/Summary None. None. Mark’s parents are coming to town and he needs help.
Disclaimer All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show Grey’s Anatomy. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of devylish. devylish is in no way associated with the TV show Grey’s Anatomy and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
ONE TWO THREE
They were spooning.
Not that that was something they hadn't done before, but..., well... they were spooning, and it was morning, and they hadn't had sex the night before. .
... if the object poking her backside was any indication of things, they could easily rectify that 'no sex' issue.
“Awake?” Mark's voice was husky and sleepy in my ear.
“Mmm hmmm,” Callie glanced at the clock, 6am. “We should probably get up, get dressed, get some breakfast prepared for your parents.”
Mark groaned. “Screw my parents.” He tugged her closer and nuzzled his head against hers. “Let's just stay in bed. All day. Get naked...” He rubbed his hips against Callie's. “...have some hot hot sex. Dirty hot sex.”
Callie barely stopped the moan that crept to her lips and she couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on them. Fortunately for her, Mark was still half asleep and she was able to scoot away from him, her body tingling everywhere he'd touched; and aching for his touch everywhere else.
Standing up at the side of the bed, she gave a crooked smile at the sound of his groan of frustration. “Breakfast Sloan.”
A few minutes later she found herself in the kitchen, wondering what she could feed her probably hungover in laws.
She froze. Whoa... Calliope, they are NOT your in laws.... you don't want them as your in laws.... Bad, bad Callie!
She had just cleared her mind of it's Freudian slip when she felt Mark's hands slide around her waist, his chin running along the top of her head.
“I haven't had sex in the kitchen in a while.”
She elbowed him away from her. “Mark your parents are here.”
“So when they leave? Hanky panky?”
“No Mark. No hanky. No panky.”
Mark hopped up onto the island with a sigh.
They existed in silence for a few minutes; her opening cabinets and the refrigerator, looking for food. Him, watching her.
Callie started, “We should get --”
“We were good together, weren't we?”
Mark's question made her stop. “Huh?”
“You... me...? We were good together - with one another … right?”
She answered him carefully, her eyes glued to the wall, “the sex was good.”
He snorted, “The sex was amazing. World class. Dirty. Sexy sex.” He didn't miss Callie's unconscious hip wiggling in response to his words, but he ignored her reaction, at least for the moment. “But that's not what I meant. I meant... you and me. The non-sex times. We were good - for one another.”
Callie once again tried to escape the tenseness of the moment. “There were non-sex times?”
Silence.
She turned around with a frustrated sigh. “Now? Do we have to do this now?” Did he have to ask her about how she felt about him back then? About how we were? Did he have to ask her this stuff now? When she was stuck to his side? Playing his woman? Too close to him? She moved to escape the kitchen, to escape him, but he beat her to it, jumping off of the counter so that he was right in front of her.
“'Now' seems like a good time to me.” He leaned in to her, only giving half a smile when she backed up. His Callie ran away from emotions even better than he did. He wondered if that's what they'd seen in one another, that first night... the fact that they were afraid to open up to people. The fact that they'd both been hurt and they were both sore from the pain. Sore, and a little bit damaged.
He chased her the one step it took to pin her against the counter. He rested a hand on the counter-top on either side of her. “I think we were good together Cal.” He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against hers. “Why didn't we take it all the way?”
The word “Lexie,” slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Mark bent his head back and looked her in the eyes incredulously, “Really?! You're going to go there? What about Erica? Arizona?”
“I didn't move in with any of my women,” she muttered, her fingers unconsciously curling round pieces of his t shirt, holding him in place.
“Oh... okay,” he agreeably mocked her... his voice low as he pressed his body against hers, freeing one hand and lifting it to her chin, tilting her head up. “Have I thanked you for helping me with... all of this mess?”
She suddenly found that she'd forgotten how to breathe. She'd been doing breathing on her own, unprompted and unimpeded for the pat 31 years.
… except when Mark was around.
He made her forget.
How to breathe.
And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that the one man she really couldn't have - the one person - she couldn't have... made her forget how to do the most basic things.
She gathered the stray strands of her wits close to her. “I think you've said... thank you... maybe once or twice since this whole thing began.” And there was that breath she'd been unable to find... trapped around her words, making them sound huskier than she'd intended.
He dipped his head and nipped at her lower lip with his teeth. “Thank you Calliope.”
It was a tender, easy, scarcely there nip. And it wrecked her senses. She didn't even mind that he'd used her full first name. Her grip on his shirt released and her hands slid up his chest, coming to a rest at his shoulders. And when he pulled his head away from hers, from the scarcely there taste of her lips, she hunted after him.
Mark groaned a quiet Thank God, when Callie's lips touched his. He hadn't planned on going all that far away, but it was nice to know she wanted him.
He lifted her up on to the counter and sidled between her legs, nestling his body against hers. “We were good together,” he murmured in her ear before he began a concerted assault of her neck and jaw.
Her memories, heightened by her reawakened senses screamed at him, we were amazing together, you idiot.
Mark's hands were traversing her body, reacquainting themselves to her map; relearning the favorite routes, the secret pathways. He had never really forgotten the wonder that was Callie, but time changes everything, and he wanted to reassure himself... both of them... that he still knew her. That he knew her best. And that whatever had changed, whatever had come to pass, he could handle those turns, those curves; and he could handle them better than anyone she'd ever been with.
He traced a finger along the edge of the boxer shorts she'd put on for bed last night, his other hand was under her shirt palming as much as it could of one of her breasts. Yeah, he was definitely in a good place. Callie, a soon to be naked and writhing Callie, in his arms... in his apartment. He slipped his finger beneath the waistband and began his journey lower.
“Oh My God!”
Both Callie and Mark froze for half a second before, Callie, peering over Mark's shoulder, and Mark, turning to look over his own shoulder, verified their worst unrealized fear... Mark's mom was standing the doorway of the kitchen.
Busted!!!
“Oh, dear! I... Hmmm I... ,” Mrs. Sloan blushed, then steeled herself with her usually icy, demeanor and offered, “Apparently, we will definitely need to move on getting that wedding date set. Wouldn't want any unplanned surprises happening before you're married, now would we?”
Callie could tell Alicia thought she was being humorous and playful in what was still an enormously embarrassing situation; unfortunately, she was way, way off the mark of being humorous by intimating that Mark and Callie might need to get married because he might impregnate her.
Mark groaned, turned his head back to Callie, and kissing her forehead, he helped her down from the counter. “I hate my parents.” he whispered.
“I kind of hate them too.” Callie whispered as she adjusted her clothing before turning her attention to face Alicia. Edward was now standing behind his wife a look of curiosity on his face. “Oh, c'mon Alicia, I'm certain you and Edward are anxious to dote upon a grandchild or two.” Callie was actually certain of the exact opposite. Per Mark, they had refused to recognize the existence of Sloan Sloan, telling Mark that she was surely some sort of scam artist after the family money. Callie was pretty positive that Alicia, in particular, was NOT excited by the idea of becoming Granny Alicia.
Alicia's frame straightened. “Oh you two have plenty of time to plan for children.”
Edward leaned over his wife's shoulder, his eyes taking in Callie's bare legs and loose, but bra-less t-shirt. “Now, now Alicia, with a fiance like that, I'm surprised Mark and Callie haven't already given us a grandchild or two.”
Callie wondered if the word 'children' have been said with any more disgust, or if the words 'like that' could have been said any more lasciviously. Pitying Mark even more than she had before for having had to grow up with Alicia and Edward, she protectively, almost unconsciously wrapped her arms over her chest.
“Mark, honey, we should get some coffee into your parents. I'm certain their heads are killing them.” Moving to the kitchen door she edged past the parents she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, “I'll go get some Tylenol.” And a robe.