Challenge 288 for l_stone: Say That Again
Title: Say That Again
Author: Sharp
Feedback: Always.
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Word Count: 500. It's not terribly long, but I think more length would kill it.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluffy humory generalness.
Summary: Mark thinks it's too hot for this shit. Roger disagrees.
Notes: Written for l_stone, whose challenge was to write a M/R fic taking place in the summer, including a mention of Roger's band.
Special Thanks: Greens, for making this awesome challenge.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There's a tiny mention of dildos, and sexual implications.
Disclaimer: Jonathan’s.
"Roger, get off me," Mark protests, laughing as his boyfriend leans over him. "It's hot enough without a very sexy rock star leaning over me, okay?"
"Could you say that again?" teases Roger, not moving from his position except to shift, putting his (very cute) rear end in Mark's line of vision. "What was that adjective there?"
Mark rolls his eyes. "Roger, off," he insists.
"Not happening."
With a coy smile, Mark raises his hands and lays them on Roger's shoulders. "If you don’t move of your own accord," he warns, "I'm going to have to make you move."
Roger still doesn't squirm, his eyes never moving from Mark's own. "Try," he challenges.
"I could scare you," Mark threatens. "I could tickle you, I could show you the dildo Maureen left in the bathroom, I could poke you - "
Roger's eyebrows fly up. "What was that?"
"Poke you?"
Roger waves his hand. "No, before that."
"Tickle you?"
With a loud groan, Roger repositions himself, laying face-down on Mark's lap, pushing his ass so it's just close enough to Mark's face for it to be tempting for the filmmaker. Still, Mark remains unwavering. He tucks his fingertips into the fabric of Roger's shirt and pulls it up, leaving a good deal of skin exposed to Mark. Roger squirms, but Mark lays a hand on the small of his back, keeping Roger in place.
Roger opens his mouth to object, but he is pressed into the couch and merely gets a mouthful of three years' worth of filth. All sorts of things have been on this couch, some things that he won't even think of due to utter revulsion. So he is so distracted by these disturbing thoughts that it comes as a shock when he feels Mark's fingers tickling over his back.
"Get off," he mumbles.
Mark laughs. "That's what I said."
"I have band practice!" Roger protests, feeling Mark's dexterous (from years of camera work) fingers slip below the waistband of his jeans.
With a chuckle, Mark assures his boyfriend, "They can wait."
"I have to be on time," Roger insists, but his protests are completely ignored.
Mark, for his part, is fully aware that Roger's resistance isn't real, that he wants attention just as much as Mark wants to give it to him. "Hey, Roger?" he says, just as his fingers hover over Roger's button and zipper.
"Yeah?"
His grin impossibly huge, Mark asks, "You still want me to stop?"
"What do you think?" Roger growls.
Mark, eyes twinkling, insists, "I want to hear you say it."
Roger grumbles something unintelligible, and Mark slides his hand away from Roger's pants altogether. "I didn't quite catch that," he teases Roger. "Really, Roger, if you want this, all you have to do is say it - "
Again, there is an incoherent response from Roger. His fingers claw into Mark's arm, insisting that the filmmaker just get on with it. "Don'tstop," Roger mumbles at last.
Mark grins. "Could you say that again?"
Author: Sharp
Feedback: Always.
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Word Count: 500. It's not terribly long, but I think more length would kill it.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fluffy humory generalness.
Summary: Mark thinks it's too hot for this shit. Roger disagrees.
Notes: Written for l_stone, whose challenge was to write a M/R fic taking place in the summer, including a mention of Roger's band.
Special Thanks: Greens, for making this awesome challenge.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There's a tiny mention of dildos, and sexual implications.
Disclaimer: Jonathan’s.
"Roger, get off me," Mark protests, laughing as his boyfriend leans over him. "It's hot enough without a very sexy rock star leaning over me, okay?"
"Could you say that again?" teases Roger, not moving from his position except to shift, putting his (very cute) rear end in Mark's line of vision. "What was that adjective there?"
Mark rolls his eyes. "Roger, off," he insists.
"Not happening."
With a coy smile, Mark raises his hands and lays them on Roger's shoulders. "If you don’t move of your own accord," he warns, "I'm going to have to make you move."
Roger still doesn't squirm, his eyes never moving from Mark's own. "Try," he challenges.
"I could scare you," Mark threatens. "I could tickle you, I could show you the dildo Maureen left in the bathroom, I could poke you - "
Roger's eyebrows fly up. "What was that?"
"Poke you?"
Roger waves his hand. "No, before that."
"Tickle you?"
With a loud groan, Roger repositions himself, laying face-down on Mark's lap, pushing his ass so it's just close enough to Mark's face for it to be tempting for the filmmaker. Still, Mark remains unwavering. He tucks his fingertips into the fabric of Roger's shirt and pulls it up, leaving a good deal of skin exposed to Mark. Roger squirms, but Mark lays a hand on the small of his back, keeping Roger in place.
Roger opens his mouth to object, but he is pressed into the couch and merely gets a mouthful of three years' worth of filth. All sorts of things have been on this couch, some things that he won't even think of due to utter revulsion. So he is so distracted by these disturbing thoughts that it comes as a shock when he feels Mark's fingers tickling over his back.
"Get off," he mumbles.
Mark laughs. "That's what I said."
"I have band practice!" Roger protests, feeling Mark's dexterous (from years of camera work) fingers slip below the waistband of his jeans.
With a chuckle, Mark assures his boyfriend, "They can wait."
"I have to be on time," Roger insists, but his protests are completely ignored.
Mark, for his part, is fully aware that Roger's resistance isn't real, that he wants attention just as much as Mark wants to give it to him. "Hey, Roger?" he says, just as his fingers hover over Roger's button and zipper.
"Yeah?"
His grin impossibly huge, Mark asks, "You still want me to stop?"
"What do you think?" Roger growls.
Mark, eyes twinkling, insists, "I want to hear you say it."
Roger grumbles something unintelligible, and Mark slides his hand away from Roger's pants altogether. "I didn't quite catch that," he teases Roger. "Really, Roger, if you want this, all you have to do is say it - "
Again, there is an incoherent response from Roger. His fingers claw into Mark's arm, insisting that the filmmaker just get on with it. "Don'tstop," Roger mumbles at last.
Mark grins. "Could you say that again?"