(no subject)
Title: Acetone
Rating: R
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Summary: “You’re an utterly unlikable elitist bitch.”
A/N: I need to buckle down and do a hell of lot of studying because I'm graduating in four weeks (eek) and need to nail this semester because it's my last chance to have my GPA not suck. Which either means that there will be an influx of fic because I seem to do even less studying than normal when I have a lot of it to do, or a lack of fic because I've figured out how to, you know, turn off my computer.
A/N 2: I've wanted to write Unlikable!Addie for a while. Please, please, please be honest and tell me whether I've pulled her off or not.
Mark pushes his apartment door open with the last of his boxes in hand and sets it down when he hears the commotion at the end of the hall. Two blonde cheerleader types stand in the hallway in front of an open door arguing about what seems to be, at the root, a mutual male conquest. A tall redhead in well-fitted jeans and a preppy sweater leans on the doorframe behind them and every so often they turn to her and she shrugs apathetically as if to show that she is still paying attention but it is none of her business. She takes her glasses off the top of her head, blows on the lenses and does a cheap job of cleaning them off, and pushes them back up. She looks bored, as if it happens all the time, but pretends to be care and isn’t that great at pretending but the other two girls aren’t really noticing her anyway except to check if she’s still there.
“Shut up,” she says in a very bored and disinterested tone after she’s heard the same phrase too many times. “Both of you. I don’t care, I have a feeling that at some level you two don’t care, and I’m pretty damn sure that the guy at the end of the hall that has been watching you for the past twenty minutes doesn’t care either. Give it up.”
The cheerleaders immediately turn to face Mark and apologize in their cute, high-pitched fashion, but Mark doesn’t miss the predatory look in their eyes. He waves back and says that he hopes things will sort themselves out soon and quickly makes an exit into his apartment.
Once Mark is officially moved in, he finally meets the three girls. He desperately wants to ask how the hell the three of them comfortably live together but after a few hours and after more than a few drinks he finds it to make some sort of odd surrealistic sense that he won’t be able to understand in the morning.
Addison takes quite a bit of Mark’s money at poker and when he accuses her of counting cards she shrugs and smirks and pockets the money. When asked what she would do with it, she answers that she plans to buy underwear so she doesn’t have to do laundry for a few more days. Mark can’t tell whether she’s joking and is immediately intrigued by her and hates himself for it.
Because, secretly, he thinks she a bitch.
--
“You are utterly unlikable, you know that?”
“And yet, you’re talking to me. And it’s not for lack of conversation prospects. That doesn’t bode well for you; choosing to talk to the most unlikable girl in the room. You’re also choosing to talk to the most unlikable girl in the room in a library, where you aren’t supposed to be having conversations that aren’t academic anyway.” Addison smirks at him over the rim of her glasses and goes back to her textbook.
“And yet, you’re talking to me.” Mark mocks her and absently taps his highlighter against the table.
She glances up slowly with a bored and condescending look. “You asked a question. It would be rude not to answer. Besides, you’re a manwhore and jackass and sooner or later I’m bound to say something moderately enlightening and you’ll go home a changed man and I’ll have done my good deed for the day.”
“You want to know why you are utterly unlikable?”
“Not particularly, but I have a feeling you didn’t ask that with the intent of following the request of my answer.”
He ignores that. “You’re an elitist bitch. You thrive on sarcasm and don’t let anyone ever get the upper hand. You always have to win and you always have to be smarter than everyone. You’re an overachiever and, really, you’re not very nice.”
“Do you want to like me, Mark Sloan?” She gives up on her book and pulls the pen out from her hair so the red locks spill over her shoulders. Setting her glasses on top of her head, she leans backward in her chair and clasps her hands across her stomach. “Because, really, that’s the only reason I can fathom for you sitting across from me and telling me why I’m unlikable. You’ve never strictly said that you don’t like me, though I suppose that’s implied. And it doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense for you to bother wasting the air on someone unlikable if they haven’t done anything particular recently to provoke the comment.” Addison smirks again and crosses her arms on the table and leans forward once again. She pushes on the front of her chair so its back legs are off the ground. “Tell me, Mark, did you sit down here to ask me out or did you sit down here to chastise me for being attractive yet so unfortunately not your personality type?” She keeps her expression steadily unreadable throughout her monologue.
“Lucky for you, Addison Montgomery, I’m in your league.” Mark lies, knowing there is no way he can even get tickets for her league and not go bankrupt.
“No you’re not.” She drops her chair back to all four legs and begins picking up her schoolwork to move to a different section of the library. “But I’ll take a dinner invitation anyway.”
Mark and Addison are not surprised when he never asks.
--
The two cheerleaders officially find school dull two months into their junior year and decide they’ll be better served going to a community college and they don’t fully explain it beyond that. So they say goodbye to Addison, their roommate of almost two and a half years, and Mark’s surprised that she is sad to see them go.
“I’d consider explaining it,” she says to Mark in the middle of a Saturday night Mafia movie marathon, “but you wouldn’t understand.” She says it with an air of exclusivity, as if the friendship were protected by a clandestine blood pact. He knows it isn’t.
He slides his arm behind her on the couch and she looks over at him by the flickering light of the television. He shrugs and she shrugs and stays where she is. After three weeks, they’ve developed a tradition and each week he moves a little closer.
--
“You’re still unlikable,” Mark pronounces in between kisses, his hands tangled in her hair.
Addison cocks an eyebrow. “Really.” She grasps her shirt by the hem and pulls it over her head in one fluid motion so she stands in front of him in a black lacy bra that contrasts beautifully with her skin and makes her hair seem even more red. She grins wickedly at his reaction and pulls him in for another kiss. “Still think I’m unlikable?”
Mark discards his shirt as well. “By the way you’re talking you’d think you want me to like you.” He unbuttons her jeans and pushes them over her hips down to the floor. He brushes her hair out of the way and begins sucking on her neck, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties that she may have purchased to avoid doing laundry.
“Oh,” she breathes and pulls him away from her and starts work on his belt. “I assume everyone likes me. What you think and you do are different. And,” she pushes his pants down and brushes against his boxers, “I’m pretty sure you like me. Even if you think you don’t.” She catches his hand and pushes him backward onto her bed.
He isn’t surprised when she wants to be on top and he doesn’t fight her because the view is too good to pass up. He also isn’t surprised when he discovers that she’s a screamer and isn’t surprised at all when she can come without his fingers on her clit. Mark sometimes rubs the bundle of nerves anyway because he always comes harder when she’s completely lost control. After two weeks, he begins to rethink how he sees her because it is impossible to be that good in bed without significant practice with more than three people.
Later, he figures that a revolving door of men might be how the three girls got along.
Even later, she tells him that it was part of it and, with a wink, says that they shared. Occasionally at the same time.
He fucks her up against the wall right then.
--
They start to have problems when he starts wanting something more. She calls it off the moment he says so. Soon afterward, she finds out that her internship is in New York and he finds out that his is in Chicago and that solves that.
--
They forget about it until she pulls him into an on call room, locks the door and kisses him so hard that he thinks she hasn’t gotten any since him. He knows that that’s impossible and helps her out of her scrub bottoms. They’ve ceased stealthily stalking each other through gossip lines and it takes him a few seconds to recognize whose tongue his is dueling with because he’s only in New York for a consult.
--
They forget about it until he tugs her into an on call room, locks the door and kisses her so hard that she thinks he hasn’t gotten any since her. She knows that that’s impossible and hikes up her skirt and bites her bottom lip. They’ve started stealthily stalking each other through gossip lines again and he knows she’s going to be there. She’s only in Chicago for a consult and it isn’t until after she smiles and thanks him that he notices a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
He thought they had broken up.
--
He calls up his best friend and leaves out the day’s activities and yells at him for not telling him about the engagement because, according to her, they’ve been back together and the ring has been on for a few months. She doesn’t apologize for not telling him that she was otherwise occupied before he was inside of her and he finally realizes that she loves being unlikable and that, somewhere, she has added “dangerous” and “self-destructive” to her list of adjectives.
So, really, he isn’t surprised when they’re all in New York eight years later and she drags him into an on call room and tugs urgently at the strings of his scrub bottoms. He covers her hands with his and pulls her fingers away because this time he is going to make her work for it.
Because she is a married unlikable dangerous self-destructive elitist bitch and he is going to watch her squirm in unrequited ecstasy for a while before he gives her that dinner invitation.
Rating: R
Pairing: Mark/Addison
Summary: “You’re an utterly unlikable elitist bitch.”
A/N: I need to buckle down and do a hell of lot of studying because I'm graduating in four weeks (eek) and need to nail this semester because it's my last chance to have my GPA not suck. Which either means that there will be an influx of fic because I seem to do even less studying than normal when I have a lot of it to do, or a lack of fic because I've figured out how to, you know, turn off my computer.
A/N 2: I've wanted to write Unlikable!Addie for a while. Please, please, please be honest and tell me whether I've pulled her off or not.
Mark pushes his apartment door open with the last of his boxes in hand and sets it down when he hears the commotion at the end of the hall. Two blonde cheerleader types stand in the hallway in front of an open door arguing about what seems to be, at the root, a mutual male conquest. A tall redhead in well-fitted jeans and a preppy sweater leans on the doorframe behind them and every so often they turn to her and she shrugs apathetically as if to show that she is still paying attention but it is none of her business. She takes her glasses off the top of her head, blows on the lenses and does a cheap job of cleaning them off, and pushes them back up. She looks bored, as if it happens all the time, but pretends to be care and isn’t that great at pretending but the other two girls aren’t really noticing her anyway except to check if she’s still there.
“Shut up,” she says in a very bored and disinterested tone after she’s heard the same phrase too many times. “Both of you. I don’t care, I have a feeling that at some level you two don’t care, and I’m pretty damn sure that the guy at the end of the hall that has been watching you for the past twenty minutes doesn’t care either. Give it up.”
The cheerleaders immediately turn to face Mark and apologize in their cute, high-pitched fashion, but Mark doesn’t miss the predatory look in their eyes. He waves back and says that he hopes things will sort themselves out soon and quickly makes an exit into his apartment.
Once Mark is officially moved in, he finally meets the three girls. He desperately wants to ask how the hell the three of them comfortably live together but after a few hours and after more than a few drinks he finds it to make some sort of odd surrealistic sense that he won’t be able to understand in the morning.
Addison takes quite a bit of Mark’s money at poker and when he accuses her of counting cards she shrugs and smirks and pockets the money. When asked what she would do with it, she answers that she plans to buy underwear so she doesn’t have to do laundry for a few more days. Mark can’t tell whether she’s joking and is immediately intrigued by her and hates himself for it.
Because, secretly, he thinks she a bitch.
--
“You are utterly unlikable, you know that?”
“And yet, you’re talking to me. And it’s not for lack of conversation prospects. That doesn’t bode well for you; choosing to talk to the most unlikable girl in the room. You’re also choosing to talk to the most unlikable girl in the room in a library, where you aren’t supposed to be having conversations that aren’t academic anyway.” Addison smirks at him over the rim of her glasses and goes back to her textbook.
“And yet, you’re talking to me.” Mark mocks her and absently taps his highlighter against the table.
She glances up slowly with a bored and condescending look. “You asked a question. It would be rude not to answer. Besides, you’re a manwhore and jackass and sooner or later I’m bound to say something moderately enlightening and you’ll go home a changed man and I’ll have done my good deed for the day.”
“You want to know why you are utterly unlikable?”
“Not particularly, but I have a feeling you didn’t ask that with the intent of following the request of my answer.”
He ignores that. “You’re an elitist bitch. You thrive on sarcasm and don’t let anyone ever get the upper hand. You always have to win and you always have to be smarter than everyone. You’re an overachiever and, really, you’re not very nice.”
“Do you want to like me, Mark Sloan?” She gives up on her book and pulls the pen out from her hair so the red locks spill over her shoulders. Setting her glasses on top of her head, she leans backward in her chair and clasps her hands across her stomach. “Because, really, that’s the only reason I can fathom for you sitting across from me and telling me why I’m unlikable. You’ve never strictly said that you don’t like me, though I suppose that’s implied. And it doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense for you to bother wasting the air on someone unlikable if they haven’t done anything particular recently to provoke the comment.” Addison smirks again and crosses her arms on the table and leans forward once again. She pushes on the front of her chair so its back legs are off the ground. “Tell me, Mark, did you sit down here to ask me out or did you sit down here to chastise me for being attractive yet so unfortunately not your personality type?” She keeps her expression steadily unreadable throughout her monologue.
“Lucky for you, Addison Montgomery, I’m in your league.” Mark lies, knowing there is no way he can even get tickets for her league and not go bankrupt.
“No you’re not.” She drops her chair back to all four legs and begins picking up her schoolwork to move to a different section of the library. “But I’ll take a dinner invitation anyway.”
Mark and Addison are not surprised when he never asks.
--
The two cheerleaders officially find school dull two months into their junior year and decide they’ll be better served going to a community college and they don’t fully explain it beyond that. So they say goodbye to Addison, their roommate of almost two and a half years, and Mark’s surprised that she is sad to see them go.
“I’d consider explaining it,” she says to Mark in the middle of a Saturday night Mafia movie marathon, “but you wouldn’t understand.” She says it with an air of exclusivity, as if the friendship were protected by a clandestine blood pact. He knows it isn’t.
He slides his arm behind her on the couch and she looks over at him by the flickering light of the television. He shrugs and she shrugs and stays where she is. After three weeks, they’ve developed a tradition and each week he moves a little closer.
--
“You’re still unlikable,” Mark pronounces in between kisses, his hands tangled in her hair.
Addison cocks an eyebrow. “Really.” She grasps her shirt by the hem and pulls it over her head in one fluid motion so she stands in front of him in a black lacy bra that contrasts beautifully with her skin and makes her hair seem even more red. She grins wickedly at his reaction and pulls him in for another kiss. “Still think I’m unlikable?”
Mark discards his shirt as well. “By the way you’re talking you’d think you want me to like you.” He unbuttons her jeans and pushes them over her hips down to the floor. He brushes her hair out of the way and begins sucking on her neck, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties that she may have purchased to avoid doing laundry.
“Oh,” she breathes and pulls him away from her and starts work on his belt. “I assume everyone likes me. What you think and you do are different. And,” she pushes his pants down and brushes against his boxers, “I’m pretty sure you like me. Even if you think you don’t.” She catches his hand and pushes him backward onto her bed.
He isn’t surprised when she wants to be on top and he doesn’t fight her because the view is too good to pass up. He also isn’t surprised when he discovers that she’s a screamer and isn’t surprised at all when she can come without his fingers on her clit. Mark sometimes rubs the bundle of nerves anyway because he always comes harder when she’s completely lost control. After two weeks, he begins to rethink how he sees her because it is impossible to be that good in bed without significant practice with more than three people.
Later, he figures that a revolving door of men might be how the three girls got along.
Even later, she tells him that it was part of it and, with a wink, says that they shared. Occasionally at the same time.
He fucks her up against the wall right then.
--
They start to have problems when he starts wanting something more. She calls it off the moment he says so. Soon afterward, she finds out that her internship is in New York and he finds out that his is in Chicago and that solves that.
--
They forget about it until she pulls him into an on call room, locks the door and kisses him so hard that he thinks she hasn’t gotten any since him. He knows that that’s impossible and helps her out of her scrub bottoms. They’ve ceased stealthily stalking each other through gossip lines and it takes him a few seconds to recognize whose tongue his is dueling with because he’s only in New York for a consult.
--
They forget about it until he tugs her into an on call room, locks the door and kisses her so hard that she thinks he hasn’t gotten any since her. She knows that that’s impossible and hikes up her skirt and bites her bottom lip. They’ve started stealthily stalking each other through gossip lines again and he knows she’s going to be there. She’s only in Chicago for a consult and it isn’t until after she smiles and thanks him that he notices a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.
He thought they had broken up.
--
He calls up his best friend and leaves out the day’s activities and yells at him for not telling him about the engagement because, according to her, they’ve been back together and the ring has been on for a few months. She doesn’t apologize for not telling him that she was otherwise occupied before he was inside of her and he finally realizes that she loves being unlikable and that, somewhere, she has added “dangerous” and “self-destructive” to her list of adjectives.
So, really, he isn’t surprised when they’re all in New York eight years later and she drags him into an on call room and tugs urgently at the strings of his scrub bottoms. He covers her hands with his and pulls her fingers away because this time he is going to make her work for it.
Because she is a married unlikable dangerous self-destructive elitist bitch and he is going to watch her squirm in unrequited ecstasy for a while before he gives her that dinner invitation.