I've Got You Under My Skin/ Like A Friend

I've got you under my skin.

I've got you deep in the heart of me.

So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.

I've got you under my skin.

I'd tried so not to give in.

I said to myself: this affair never will go so well.

But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well

I've got you under my skin?

Don't bother saying you're sorry / Why don't you come in
Smoke all my cigarettes again / Every time I get no further
How long has it been/ Come on in now, wipe your feet on my dreams
You take up my time / Like some cheap magazine
When I could have been learning something
Oh well, you know what I mean, oh / I've done this before
And I will do it again / Come on and kill me baby
While you smile like a friend / Oh and I'll come running
Just to do it again / You are the last drink I never should have drunk
You are the body hidden in the trunk / You are the habit I can't seem to kick
You are my secrets on the front page every week
You are the car I never should have bought
You are the dream I never should have caught
You are the cut that makes me hide my face
You are the party that makes me feel my age
Like a car crash I can see but I just can't avoid
Like a plane I've been told I never should board
Like a film that's so bad but I've got to stay till the end
Let me tell you now: it's lucky for you that we're friends.

It's never going to work out. It's NEVER going to work out. Affairs never work out. Callie tells herself this every time, but every single time, she ends up here. With his lips on hers, his tongue parting her lips as his knee parts her legs and his hands unapologetically pull at the button on her jeans and two fingers are immediately drawing circles around her clit. He groans as she bites down on his bottom lip and tugs at it slightly. That's when she decides it's NOT an affair. They're friends. Who need sex. Plus, he's into Hahn. That's enough to convince her again this time to just enjoy the way he kneels in front of her and pushes her blouse up as he kisses and nibbles her stomach. She helps him by ridding of the garment as he licks just over her hip bone and he clutches her ass with both hands and she can't help but arch her back. That's when it occurs to her that they always start out this way. With either one or the other pressed against his door--or hers. Mostly because they're both always too eager to wait for the bed. She sighs and bites down on her lip to suppress a moan as he pulls the denim down and over her hips before tugging at her lace panties with his teeth. He looks up at her and she smiles down at him--just because he smiled first--and she runs her fingers through his hair. She likes that when he's with her, he's not "McSteamy" the man whore. He's just Mark. Her friend. But her mind shuts up then because her panties are gone, tossed somewhere over his head and her leg is hooked over his shoulder as he darts his tongue over her labia and laves at her. Long, smooth licks that force her eyes to close and the back of her head to hit the door with a soft thud.

Her lips part in a string of sighs and moans that she can't seem to hold back anymore because his tongue is hard at work on her, alternating between licking and sucking on her clit and plunging his tongue into her. She licks her lips and it occurs to her that Mark is the best friend she's ever had as her hips start to thrust forward involuntarily and she is gripping to the doorknob behind her like she's going to fall. And it feels like it when she comes with his name on her lips. Maybe it WOULD work out.

She's panting when kisses his way back up her body. She's warm, and when he reaches behind her, the small of her back is slick with sweat. And he loves it. That she lets him do this to her. He kicks off his shoes and nibbles on her neck, that spot just under her ear that makes her hiss. And there it is. He hears her as she reaches up to gently hold his head in place and he presses his body to hers, crushing her against the door.

They're friends. That's all. He's into Hahn. Or--there's SOMETHING about Hahn. He's not sure yet, but so far, he wouldn't change a thing about his friendship with Callie. She makes him laugh. He makes her laugh. And that's his favorite part. He loves hearing her laugh. She dodges his innuendo at work and calls him a dumb-ass. They have coffee together almost everyday and they have drinks with Hahn once in a while, and she talks him up to her. He appreciates that. But like every single time, Hahn turns him down. He's gotten used to the rejection. And then, about three nights a week, they end up here. Or at her couch at Yang's because Yang is almost never home. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

He finally has her on the bed, and she's pushing his shirt over his head and leaving short, wet kisses on his jaw line as he works on getting his pants off.

As he kisses her lips again and crawls between her legs, it occurs to Mark that she fits perfectly around his body. And he likes it. He likes when he thrusts into her and her neck arches and she whimpers. He likes the way she braces herself on her elbows and leans up to kiss him, the way his body responds immediately to hers when she tightens around him and everything is wet and slippery and sweaty--and loud.

She somehow manages to catch him off guard and flips them over. She grins down at him as she rides him, hard, bracing herself on his shoulders and her hair falls over her shoulders, cradling her face. He reaches up to trace the outline of her bottom lip with his thumb and when she takes the digit into her mouth, he sits up and reclaims her mouth, biting at her lip and exploring her mouth as she continues to ride him.

She likes being in charge. She's a big control freak. He likes that, too. He likes their back and forth banter. He enjoys watching her use him to her advantage. The way her head falls back and her back arches against his palm and her breasts are pressed against his chest. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth and hears her groan as he runs his palms over her hips and thighs, pushing her even tighter against him.

When it occurs to him that Callie Torres may mean more to him than just "a friend", he leaves a trial with his tongue over the swell of her breasts before grabbing a handful of her hair and cradling her head so she'd meet his eyes. He won't tell her. He won't tell her that the only reason he keeps coming to her is because he cares. He won't tell her that the sex isn't great just because he's 'experienced' and she's a got a body that was made for sin. And he won't tell her that it pisses him off to think of any other man touching her the way she lets him touch her. And he most defiantly won't tell her that the reason why he buys her coffee every morning and has drinks with her on all their days off, is because he wants to keep her to himself.

He does however, decide that's enough of her calling the shots and in an instant, he has her on her stomach and she's resting her weight on her elbows, breathlessly looking over her shoulder as he kisses her shoulder blades, touching the soft skin there, then licks her spine.

She wiggles under him and when he looks up at her, she's smiling over her shoulder. He moves quickly, kissing her as he thrusts back into her from behind and he holds her head there as she pants and grips the comforter tightly. Her brow furrows and her head drops forward with a loud moan and his eyes shut at the sound because it's all a little too much to handle. So he finds her hand and replaces the blankets with his own fingers are they intertwine with hers. She's moaning louder now, and he presses forehead to her nape, kissing her softly as he moves harder. Within a few thrusts, she's gone, shuttering under him before finally collapsing, breathless on the mattress.

He falls against her, and after a few moments, he realizes he should probably get off and he climbs of her, kissing her shoulder as he falls beside her. He can see the back of her head, hear her catching her breath as he does the same. When she finally turns to him, her cheeks are flushed and she's smiling.

"That was good, right?" He asks, not really wondering, more like--showing off, with a wink.

"Better than the other guy." He frowns worriedly and she giggles.

"You're lucky we're friends." He says flatly and leans in to kiss her lips. One sweet, lingering kiss before folding his arm under his head. As much as he wants to, he doesn't pull her close because there are boundaries. So he just watches her as she sits up, stretches her arms above her head and stands up, gathering her clothes up, "Why don't you stay tonight?" He asks casually, "It's late."

"Nah." She replies, buttoning her jeans, not seeing his frown, "I have to go." Then slips on her shoes before grabbing her jacket from the floor. She meets his gaze and smiles at him as she runs a hand through her hair and walks toward the bed, leaning over to kiss his forehead and staying nose to nose with him as she says, "Plus, we wouldn't want you to get used to having me here. You'd fall in love with me." She chuckles and turns towards the door.

"No, we wouldn't want THAT."

"Goodnight, Mark. See you tomorrow."

"Night." He calls as she leaves his room, already wanting his morning alarm to ring so he can buy her coffee and meet her at the nurses' station and say something stupid so she'd call him an idiot. He groans, feeling pathetic, unaware that down the hall, Callie is twirling her keys in her hands with an idiotic smile on her face because he asked her to stay the night. And unaware that she's thinking about maybe staying next time he asks.

FIN

So, the song Like A Friend by Pulp is one of the BEST songs ever. I LOVE it. And it reminds me of Mark and Callie (and Callie and Addison but that's for another fic lol)