the silent game {grey's - mark/lexie}
Title: The Silent Game
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Mark/Lexie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 774
Author's Note: For an anon at the kink meme. Prompt: "paper thin walls".
Summary: There's so much more at stake here than a dollar on some road trip down the West Coast.
Lexie always hated the silent game.
They’d play on long drives when she was a kid, road trips that took them along the coast and then westward to visit family. Whoever stayed silent the longest won a dollar and Molly always came out that much richer by the end of it. Lexie rambled extensively long before she hit puberty; it was a trait that stuck.
Mark pins her wrists above her head and presses her body into the bed with his own and whispers “quiet” along her ear, his mouth opening just below, kissing down to the underside of her jaw. She chokes out a gasp and arches and somehow remembers to glare with his erection pressed against her thigh and her own need still strong between her legs.
Derek and Meredith are arguing down the hall, Alex is quiet possibly emptying the cabinets and throwing their contents at the walls for all the noise he’s making downstairs, and she’s almost positive Cristina is around here somewhere. There might be music playing, or it might be the television in the living room on too loud.
She could probably scream and it would blend into the cacophony of sheer noise.
Except they’ve got paper thin walls in this house and Derek would know his best friend’s voice and Alex would recognize the sounds she makes if he was in his own room, if he listened closely enough.
So she bites down hard on the inside of her cheek when he catches her nipple with his teeth and scratches her nails along his scalp when he kisses her. She can still taste herself faintly on his lips, and she grinds up against him, letting her hands move from his head down to span his shoulders, muscles flexing underneath taut skin.
“Just - ” she exhales and he nips at her bottom lip in retaliation, the rest of her sentence finishing against his mouth. The general idea is still there though, and she bends at the knee, wrapping her legs around his waist and changing up their angle, bringing them into dangerously close contact.
Almost where she wants him.
“Mark - ”
He raises an eyebrow. She moves against him more, seeking out the friction she so badly desires. He doesn’t give an inch and she’s starting to get that he means business.
There’s a little more at stake than a dollar this time too.
She sighs and gives him some approximation of a nod in response. She’ll play the game. And she’ll win it this time too.
His hand slides down to her hip then, the other one wrapping around his cock, and he guides himself into her as soundlessly as possible. He grunts and she sucks in too much air when he starts moving inside of her but she doubts either of them are as loud as she hears them, judging by the way she can hear her heartbeat, her breathing erratic and too heavy, echoing in her ears.
Something in her stomach flutters when he teases her clit with his thumb, sliding in and out of her in a steady, easy rhythm that comes with time and familiarity. She spreads her legs wider and digs her fingers into his bicep, his back, as she shifts her hips, meets his movements.
There’s a moan that she loses control of somewhere in there, with his face buried in her neck, but he seems to notice less and less with each thrust.
When she comes, she arches against him and her head almost collides with the headboard; when he comes his fingers bite into her hip, leaving a bruise that’s going to sting tomorrow. He goes soft inside of her, pulls out while she’s still coming down, and his landing on the bed, flat on his back, is punctuated by a sudden burst of feminine laughter from downstairs. Meredith stops shrieking long enough to ask “what was that?” at roughly the same time Derek curses, their voices intermingled.
Outside of this room, everything’s falling apart, and there’s a sinking feeling in her bones.
“What do you - ”
“Shh,” he whispers and they listen to footfalls on the stairs, two sets, and she just doesn’t want to know. She wants to hold onto the feel of skin slick against skin for just a little longer.
“Okay,” she settles on, pulling the sheets up around her chest. Something falls to the floor, displaced by the movement, and she thinks it might be her bra.
Behind her, he stretches out alongside her body, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she suddenly can’t think of anything to say even if she wanted to.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Mark/Lexie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 774
Author's Note: For an anon at the kink meme. Prompt: "paper thin walls".
Summary: There's so much more at stake here than a dollar on some road trip down the West Coast.
Lexie always hated the silent game.
They’d play on long drives when she was a kid, road trips that took them along the coast and then westward to visit family. Whoever stayed silent the longest won a dollar and Molly always came out that much richer by the end of it. Lexie rambled extensively long before she hit puberty; it was a trait that stuck.
Mark pins her wrists above her head and presses her body into the bed with his own and whispers “quiet” along her ear, his mouth opening just below, kissing down to the underside of her jaw. She chokes out a gasp and arches and somehow remembers to glare with his erection pressed against her thigh and her own need still strong between her legs.
Derek and Meredith are arguing down the hall, Alex is quiet possibly emptying the cabinets and throwing their contents at the walls for all the noise he’s making downstairs, and she’s almost positive Cristina is around here somewhere. There might be music playing, or it might be the television in the living room on too loud.
She could probably scream and it would blend into the cacophony of sheer noise.
Except they’ve got paper thin walls in this house and Derek would know his best friend’s voice and Alex would recognize the sounds she makes if he was in his own room, if he listened closely enough.
So she bites down hard on the inside of her cheek when he catches her nipple with his teeth and scratches her nails along his scalp when he kisses her. She can still taste herself faintly on his lips, and she grinds up against him, letting her hands move from his head down to span his shoulders, muscles flexing underneath taut skin.
“Just - ” she exhales and he nips at her bottom lip in retaliation, the rest of her sentence finishing against his mouth. The general idea is still there though, and she bends at the knee, wrapping her legs around his waist and changing up their angle, bringing them into dangerously close contact.
Almost where she wants him.
“Mark - ”
He raises an eyebrow. She moves against him more, seeking out the friction she so badly desires. He doesn’t give an inch and she’s starting to get that he means business.
There’s a little more at stake than a dollar this time too.
She sighs and gives him some approximation of a nod in response. She’ll play the game. And she’ll win it this time too.
His hand slides down to her hip then, the other one wrapping around his cock, and he guides himself into her as soundlessly as possible. He grunts and she sucks in too much air when he starts moving inside of her but she doubts either of them are as loud as she hears them, judging by the way she can hear her heartbeat, her breathing erratic and too heavy, echoing in her ears.
Something in her stomach flutters when he teases her clit with his thumb, sliding in and out of her in a steady, easy rhythm that comes with time and familiarity. She spreads her legs wider and digs her fingers into his bicep, his back, as she shifts her hips, meets his movements.
There’s a moan that she loses control of somewhere in there, with his face buried in her neck, but he seems to notice less and less with each thrust.
When she comes, she arches against him and her head almost collides with the headboard; when he comes his fingers bite into her hip, leaving a bruise that’s going to sting tomorrow. He goes soft inside of her, pulls out while she’s still coming down, and his landing on the bed, flat on his back, is punctuated by a sudden burst of feminine laughter from downstairs. Meredith stops shrieking long enough to ask “what was that?” at roughly the same time Derek curses, their voices intermingled.
Outside of this room, everything’s falling apart, and there’s a sinking feeling in her bones.
“What do you - ”
“Shh,” he whispers and they listen to footfalls on the stairs, two sets, and she just doesn’t want to know. She wants to hold onto the feel of skin slick against skin for just a little longer.
“Okay,” she settles on, pulling the sheets up around her chest. Something falls to the floor, displaced by the movement, and she thinks it might be her bra.
Behind her, he stretches out alongside her body, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she suddenly can’t think of anything to say even if she wanted to.