Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. This writing is for entertainment purposes only and is not for profit.
Breathless laughter and flushed faces accompanied them as they returned to Mark's room later that night. The door clicked shut behind them, sequestering them into their own little world, cutting off their bliss from the outside. After their jackets were flung away recklessly, Mark reached out for her and pulled her into him, grinning literally from ear to ear. Smiling eyes, blue and hazel, danced together for a moment, alive with the exhilaration of the day's victories.
One was subtle, personal, a small win that still made all the difference: their first public kiss, their first chance to show everyone that their relationship was officially for real. It was hugely important in its own right, a milestone.
But the other was obvious and monumental: Mark had done it. One of only a handful of successful facial transplants in the world. Flawlessly executed, skillfully completed. They laughed together as they thought about it, amazed. It still hadn't completely sunken in yet. They were suspended above the ground, floating, walking on nothing. Mark felt like he could reach up and touch the sky, and Lexie just wanted to hold him up high in exultation.
Not another instant passed before they were kissing – fierce, famished, wild. They didn't hold back like they had earlier, now that they were out of that hostile environment and in the place where they could flourish uninhibited. Mark ran his fingers through Lexie's hair and opened his mouth against hers. With a small moan, Lexie accepted the change and gave it right back, boldly sliding her tongue into his mouth. He smirked, distinctive, and she felt it, having learned exactly how he reacted to a situation like this.
When they finally gathered the willpower to tear away from one another, Lexie took his hands into hers, lacing their fingers, and looked up at him. Her eyes shone intensely, something Mark could feel somewhere deep inside.
"Do you realize how amazing you are?!" she cried excitedly, throwing her hands into the air, this being the fifth time she asked that question since they left the hospital. Mark laughed out loud at how flabbergasted she still was. She was shaking, eyes enormous and sparkling, laughing nervously even though she was anything but nervous. "Are you not totally freaking out?"
"Trust me, I am," Mark admitted, cupping her face in his hands. "I just don't show it as much as you do," he teased, smiling, gently pinching her porcelain cheek. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips playfully.
"Oh, shut it."
"I couldn't have done it without you," he told her a second later, a genuine and appreciative comment, sending a mental wave of affection her way that he hoped she could sense.
"Mark Sloan!" she exclaimed with pretend indignation, hitting him jokingly but firmly on the arm. "Don't lie. I was just the intern that helped hold the face. You were the man behind the magic. Because it really was magical, completely magical, amazing. You have no. Idea. How much I'm still reeling. Oh!" she squeaked, unable to contain her enthusiasm, folding in on herself and shivering at the sheer intensity of it all. He snorted at her over-the-top response.
Mark was would have told her how wrong she was and how she had somehow become his driving force throughout the surgery, but he knew that she wouldn't believe him. She would never let him give her the glory. So, he let her have the last word. Shaking his head at her, he moved across the room and picked up the phone.
"I'm going to call room service and tell them to bring us a feast and their finest champagne," he announced exaggeratedly, holding the phone in the air like a trophy, regarding the twinkle in her eyes, "because this is a cause for celebration." He flashed her a stunning smile and Lexie laughed brightly.
They both knew this was going to be a good night.
Room service brought them their goods and Mark and Lexie ate, laughing and talking animatedly. Mark described the surgery again and again for her and she listened with rapt attention, the story never losing its incredible appeal. She asked so many questions and listened intently to his answers, and Mark was once again amazed at how much she loved to learn. He knew that she would remember every word he said as well. She was a wonderful anomaly.
The champagne came out and he taught her how to pop the cork, something that she would have never learned at Seattle Grace. They toasted and drank glass after glass together, happy, keyed up, ecstatic, not caring how much they consumed. At the time, it didn't really matter.
After a while, they both became slightly tipsy, teetering between sobriety and drunkenness. Lexie managed to force Mark to dance with her, another celebratory measure. It wasn't long until he was giggling with a thrilling combination of the thrill of surgery, the alcohol, and her. Meanwhile, Lexie was laughing hysterically because she'd never heard him straight-up giggle before. It was incredible that one simple gesture could make him all the more human, all the more connected to her.
Eventually, like it always happened, they began to do more kissing. With the kissing came the inevitable gravitation to the bed. Smiling lustily, she pushed him by the shoulders so that he was lying on his back and seductively crawled over him. She straddled his hips, feeling his eyes burning into her as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it over the side of the bed. Lexie shook her hair out and it fell to frame her face, gorgeous and irresistible to Mark. His hands flew to her waist, thumbs rubbing across the bare skin just by her navel as she removed her bra and tossed it aside as well.
It was nothing new. This was how they celebrated every stride, whether they were large jumps or tiny steps, miniscule or extreme.
Their lips crashed together once more, hot and heavy, meshed between gasps and groans. Mark could taste the champagne on the inside of her mouth and was sure that she could taste the same in his. It was a wonderful flavor; sharp, biting, a tiny hint of sweetness, like pure victory. Her mouth moved to his neck, searing at his collarbone. At the drop of a hat, she became dominant, giving him his chance to be pampered and attended to. This was all for him, this day his triumph. Her lips skimmed across his throat and he hummed deeply, causing a vibration that she could feel.
Their actions progressed rapidly, sighing and kissing and touching as they succumbed to the need they shared. It wasn't long before they were both naked, skin sliding against skin creating a friction that drove them crazy. Mark whispered something about being harder than hell in her ear, and she could definitely tell as she touched him, wrapping her fist around his arousal. Wills weakened by the heat and the champagne, neither could hold out any longer; they needed to begin and begin immediately.
Mark sat up, back against the headboard, supported on his elbows to accommodate her entire weight in his lap. Not needing any prompting, she sank onto him, whimpering and shuddering, the insides of her thighs rubbing against the outsides of his. He inhaled sharply, closed his eyes, and curled his toes as she enveloped him, heavenly slick. The initial pleasure radiated through them simultaneously, beginning at the place where they were joined and moving in a ripple effect to the rest of their bodies.
Mind already foggy with the wonderful feelings pulsating through him, Mark bent his bare legs at the knees to support Lexie as she began to move her hips. He tilted his head back and groaned, eyes fluttering and rolling, as she moved forward and back, up and down in her pattern of habit that was completely satisfying no matter how many times he felt it. He lifted his hips slightly and she caught a moan behind a bitten lip. He held her by the slender waist, keeping her close, needing to feel constant contact. Every so often, they slid up to cup her breasts, and she uttered his name throatily every time his fingertips brushed over her nipples.
She stroked his hair, fingers splaying backwards just above his ears, before she gripped at his shoulders tightly, moving with both her own rhythm and his thrusts. She placed her forehead against his and their eyes met sharply, half-lidded and intense with desire. They breathed together in a common heavy pattern through their mouths, rapid heartbeats pounding with one another in this mutual passion.
It was then that an abrupt revelation hit Lexie like something divine. There was something that she needed to say to Mark. For so long and particularly during that day, he had been doing his damndest to impress those around him. He wanted to show how capable he was, wanted to prove himself so badly. Now that he had, there was still something that had been left unsaid by everyone, by her. Knowing him like she did, she was completely aware of how much he needed to hear what she was about to say. It was absolutely necessary that she let him know before it was allowed to fall by the wayside.
The fact might have been somebody else's given, but for Mark, was required to be said aloud.
It was something that he might not have heard in a while. But he deserved to hear it all the time, over and over again, repeated countless times.
"Mark," she choked, taking quite a bit of effort to stop moving, holding his face in her hands. She shivered and struggled to speak, since he was buried so deep inside of her she felt like she might catch fire. "I have to tell you something."
"What?" he asked gruffly, slightly annoyed, voice extremely thick with a yearning for her to start doing that wonderful thing with her hips again. Lexie swallowed and smiled, catching her breath. She made sure to lock her eyes with his before she spoke clearly and truly.
"I am so proud of you."
Mark's love drunk face suddenly changed at the sound of her words; the way his eyes widened, eager and bright, and the sheepish smile that appeared were enough to break her heart and take her breath away at the same time. This was the way he always reacted when she implied that she was happy with him; it never failed to show her how much he needed to be encouraged and made certain.
Lexie punctuated her sentence with a reassuring kiss, relatively chaste, and she stroked his cheek with the palm of her hand. His skin was hot under hers, and he pulled greedily at the kiss. Gradually, then, she picked up the rhythm with her hips again and they continued moving in tandem without missing a single beat.
That was what Lexie thrived on, chipping away slowly at his self-doubt and uncertainty.
And every tiny bit of progress she made was well worth celebrating.