Sklooging
A/N: A One-Shot commencing immediately after Season 11. It's different…but go with it dear readers. I seem to be in Jackson Avery's head of late, so most (if not all :-) the fics I have penned recently are either his POV or predominantly him. Not sure where Shonda & Co are going with Japril in the new season but here's one pathway. Disclaimer as usual: The characters of Grey's Anatomy, past and present, new and old belong to the unique Shonda Rhimes…
It was turning out to be quite the sexcapade, one of his finest if he was to be honest. Almost unparalleled. Down and dirty. Doin' the nasty, with no finesse but culminating in devastating personal pleasure. She did everything for and to him and while it went against his grain, allowed no reciprocity. Being the beneficiary of all that pent up sexuality he was moderately surprised when she purred into his ear that he was the best she'd ever had.
The day started out innocently enough and, if you disregarded his misery, it was like any other day at Grey Sloan Memorial. Not that his unhappiness was visible to his peers, he was stoic as usual, but everyone was familiar with their history. Also his interruption of the Kepner/Taylor wedding and his subsequent, witnessed, love proclamation to the bride, achieved legendary status at the hospital. It was a swoon-worthy tale that appealed to the romantic at heart. For the couple involved though, being as private as they were, they loathed the notoriety and especially that it emanated at the expense of two innocents.
Discounting their history, their present on full display became fodder for scandalmongers. The rumor mill was going wild and its source was April's closest friend, or her number two, if he was thrown into the mix (he obviously being first). Perhaps he had been dethroned in the BFF category, he wondered to himself. Although Arizona had been well meaning and, to both of them, adviceorial (not even a valid word, but obvious and apropos in intent), she had a hard time keeping things to herself and this was hot of the press – Separation of the Avery's. As Stephanie and Matthew would say "Karma's a bitch" – well not really Matthew who was so far off the grid as to be inconsequential and who was too well-mannered to resort to such speech. Not that he believed, but kowtowing to popular culture he reflected that Karma was biting him in the arse in a major way. He sighed in resignation at his karmic destiny when his previous ex stepped into the elevator, leaving him alone in the metal cubicle with Dr. Stephanie Edwards.
"Dr. Avery," she greeted, surprisingly flirtatious.
Apparently she was done imagining that he did not exist and even though more than two years had lapsed since their last encounter of a personal nature, he recognized her coquettish manner. He was no fool, he'd been the recipient of female attention since kindergarten. So at this stage in his life he possessed above average awareness of sexual innuendo. Since gossip at the hospital was rife and spreading like wildfire, he'd become the inheritor of all types of sexually suggestive insinuations, even from the newly minted interns – they seemed entirely career driven and completely self-involved so the inappropriateness of their conduct was not even a blip on their radar. Women had always flocked towards him, if not for his looks then his family's wealth or, for people in the know, his Medical Legacy. All three together were a potent combination. His mentor, Mark Sloan, had coined a term for this moth to a flame quality he owned, calling it his 'Avery Sparkle'. He did not entertain Stephanie's body language which she cloaked with intimate overtones by her seductive, deepened voice– he simply stepped further away from her. Professional courtesy however, and his damn ingrained Avery genes, insisted on a polite response.
"Dr. Edwards," he replied in kind.
"So, you and Dr. Kepner…" she started, expectantly.
He ignored her prompt and simply gazed expressionlessly back at her.
Being a colleague and having previous insight into his behavior and mannerisms, she was very clear on the "Don't go there" message his eyes displayed and the change from impassive to one lifted eyebrow – his very own "Fuck off" which he would never express in that vulgar terminology. Nonetheless, she remained undeterred, but before she could gather her thoughts enough to proposition him the elevator doors opened at his destination floor. Still not dissuaded from her mission she rushed to follow him, having to run to draw level with his huge strides. Catching up to him in a partly deserted corridor she grabbed his arm to halt his headlong flight away from her.
"Stop, okay?! Please. I just wanna say something. Don't you think you owe me that at least?"
Anything to get him to listen, even if it meant using his guilt at the way he broke up with her! And it worked. One thing that always got to her was that she lost out on a true Man's Man when he ended it. He'd been a bit of a douche, emotionally cold really, during their brief 'relationship' and the method of their breakup was right up there in uncouth behavior, but she knew that was the anomaly. The fact that she could appeal to his culpability in the failure of their liaison as well as that he tried to apologize and attempted to make amends to her later proved that a decent guy existed beneath his emotionless façade. Over the passage of time she was able to objectively view the scene of her embarrassment and the conclusion she reached was that April Kepner was one heck of a lucky woman – to be considered worthy of being loved so completely by such a man.
Astounding character and this epic Romeo and Juliet Love Story aside, all Stephanie's mind could comprehend at this moment was that her ex-lover was separated from his wife. Her body, on the other hand, was vibrating with all these conflicting sensations, predominantly reminding her of the major dry spell she was experiencing (including the almost 'Jailbait' excursion) and that prior to his marriage Dr. Avery had been more than proficient at satiating her physical desires. She decided to stop beating around the bush and straightforwardly declare her intentions but noting that Jackson's deadpan expression was morphing into impatience and exasperation she went with euphemisms. Her voice stuttered hesitantly but she forged ahead – the fear of rejection was worth a successful payoff.
"Do you wanna get it on? With me, I mean?"
Observing his immobility and still blank expression, she clarified.
"The horizontal mambo…hanky panky…the wild thing…getting laid or getting some…going at it and all the way…jumping bones…humping, shagging, boinking, screwing…sklooging…"
"Sklooging?" he quizzically repeated, finally engaging.
Well at least that got a reaction, she supposed. "Newest catch phrase for coitus…err…intercourse."
Hesitation – the moment called for silence.
"So do you wanna have sex?"
To say that she'd managed to surprise him was a vast understatement. He remembered when their patient, the Chef with the severed penis, had been brought to the trauma centre and Stephanie had been tasked with delivering the torn appendage to him for reconstructive grafting before reattachment. She'd been all flustered and comical about the 'Package'. While she still went about today's discussion circuitously, the point was made and she drove it home with her last direct pronouncement. Mentally he guffawed, perhaps sexual inference was catching. Yet outwardly he manifested a smooth countenance and turning away from the newly qualified attending he sauntered towards the opposite direction, leaving her in limbo. Was this an acceptance or rejection of her proposal? Perhaps this necessitated a wardrobe emergency!
Unbeknownst to either of them, their entire conversation had an unintended eavesdropper...
It had been a while. She gazed around the drinking establishment, curious and waiting, and her gaze was immediately drawn to the bar patron as he entered. He was beautiful, of course. Was he worth her humiliating herself again? Worth breaking the rules? The answers to both were apparent and a resounding 'Yes'.
"Buy you a drink? Or would you rather get out of here?" she enquired on approach.
The speed of his actions astounded her. He threw some bills onto the countertop, flung back the rest of his drink and grabbed her hand to lead her out. His actions were so hurried and his pace so unexpected that she staggered slightly on her stilettos, almost running to keep up with him and to avoid being dragged in his wake. Perhaps the heels were a mistake, but she'd worn them with seduction in mind. Recalling her idea she used all the strength at her disposal to pull him to a halt before he hauled her up the stairs that led down to the basement pub entrance.
"Do you wanna get it on? With me, I mean?" she delicately whispered into his ear.
She moved between his thighs, lifted her red-heeled shod foot as far as the short skirt of her dress would allow and ran it over the back of his calf. Pulling him into a torrid embrace she kissed him with such fervor, imprinting him with the knowledge of who was in control and who was left panting in response. She was seductress and he was seduced.
He gazed in awe, almost reverential – a fascinated, willing audience of one to her striptease performance. Was this natural sensuality or a learned eroticism? He allowed his body to fall back onto the bed where he'd been pushed, an audible gulp escaping the dryness invading his vocal cords. While he was not tied up physically all his faculties felt knotted up with the tension that attacks a body pre-release. As he opened his mouth to attempt speech and move from spectator towards participant she crawled onto the bed towards him, revving his excitement to full throttle. She reached over and covered his lips with her index finger, shushing him with the gesture. He capitulated to the 'no talking' rule but swiped his tongue over the finger blocking his mouth, which she then surrendered to his ministrations for a quick swirl before replacing the digit with her tongue.
The magnitude of his involvement in foreplay was her allowing him to engage his lips and tongue in wild, toe-curling kisses. His hands were held prisoner, initially by her own, and then simply by her soft-voiced commands or punishments when they strayed. Her retaliatory nips and bites were incentive enough for his continued disobedience but he restrained himself, intent on experiencing the culmination to his total submission. Never in his entire existence had he allowed anyone to absorb absolute mastery of his body. With a contented sigh he yielded his all, loving her self-assurance and trusting the honesty of her gaze. And the sex was mind-blowing.
Twice they'd gone at it, with a very brief recovery period in between. Lips were in play that evening but not for talking. Sighs, grunts and groans were their acoustic and mutual satisfaction their final destination. Although no bondage transpired, he was figuratively a submissive to her dominant – she got-off on being on top and enjoyed the control he allowed her. They were ships in the night leaving each other at dawn with nary a word spoken but a drawn-out final kiss. Until the following night…
Neither of them had been able to stay away from the pub. The likelihood that the other would be there drove them both to the establishment, chancing an encounter. He was an adrenalin rush and she an aphrodisiac and both were addicted to the erotic stimuli. The rest of the week passed in a similar vein with the one major difference being that by their third hook-up they skipped the bar entirely and got straight down to the business of…getting down.
A week of nighttime extracurricular activities later found Jackson seated once again in Dr. Kim Dawson's office, listening to April hypothesize on their failures, wondering all the while if it was an appropriate time to mention the clandestine encounters. Dr. Dawson was the therapist recommended by Arizona Robbins and was who had aided Callie and herself during the rocky time before their decision to call it quits. Admittedly the failed marriage of their friends was not the best recommendation, but Arizona insisted that Dr. Dawson had aided the couple in the realization that they had grown apart. The crash and burn of their marriage was all their own doing – Kim Dawson was simply a facilitator to their arbitration. Although, it soon became apparent to both April and himself that Dr. Dawson was a one trick horse. Similar to her treatment plan with the Torres-Robbins duo, she had recommended a physical separation of the Avery's coupled with a very stern 30-day 'No Sex, No Talking' embargo – well no communication aside from in her presence and during sessions.
"April…we need to talk," Jackson caught up to her immediately outside the therapist's rooms.
"But…you…we…no talking…" she confusedly attempted to deflect, a stickler for the rules.
"And how's that going for you?" Jackson sarcastically rejoined.
"Okay, okay, I know you're right. Let's grab a coffee and…" she stopped at the beeping of both their pagers – 911 major trauma put a crimp in that idea.
"As soon as we're free, send me a text or a page. It's got to be done. We good?" he replied as they both raced to attend to the emergencies that required their instant attention.
"Yeah, good to go."
He should have realized that it was an impossible situation – she was a freaking Trauma Surgeon. He gazed down from the viewing deck into the operating room she currently occupied knowing that the surgery would not be over anytime soon. Their conversation, at least a week overdue, would have to wait one more day. At odds with himself and knowing he would be alone he decided to go to the rendezvous destination hotel room. He toed of his sneakers as soon as he stepped into the room, made himself comfortable on the plush comforter and was instantly lights out.
He was awoken in the most delicious manner. Her slight weight already atop his excitable body, she kissed him voraciously. Still groggy and gripped in the throes of passion he succumbed to the hunger. As he approached his climax he called her name out fiercely.
"April," he sighed out this time, his breath returning to normal.
"Shh…no April, no Jackson, no Avery's here" April softly replied.
"We can't be Ostriches April!" he exasperatedly responded.
"Huh…what?"
"No matter how enjoyable this interlude has been, we can't keep burying our heads in the sand, April. Hence Ostrich."
She thought about his words for a long moment before she suggested a counter offer to his suggestion.
"You're right," she agreed, with this directionally challenged, very rarely used phrase between husband and wife. "But…" and the qualifier was to be expected! Men everywhere groaned loudly in conjunction with her spouse…so close…
"But what?" he probed.
"Let's be strangers getting to know one another, when we're here. Or better yet we'll be just April and just Jackson – AppleJacks…"
"Like the cereal?"
"Jackson!" she smacked his chest. "Apple doesn't sound very sexy, right? And I want to be this sexy woman, having you as my lover," she continued.
"Well an Apple did get Adam and Eve thrown out of the Garden of Eden. What?"
"How do you know this? And it wasn't the apple, it was temptation…ahh I see where you're going with this."
"I may not believe Apple, but I do read. So okay," he smilingly returned, wanting the same thing she did. "We'll be Apple and Jacks. Surgeon Best Friends, Lovers who are dating and relearning each other. She's just returned from Moline, He's been waiting."
"They're getting to know more about each other with the dynamic of sex and intimacy thrown into the mix…"
"Yeah, Applejacks here and Jackson and April Avery out there, especially with the touchy-feely doctor," he rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, let's not tell her about AppleJacks. How would we explain that the 'no sex' decree didn't even last days…although we, err they, did keep to the 'no talking' rule."
"Hmm, good thinking. Which reminds me, what brought on this whole seduction routine? You know I would never give up on us and I would never be unfaithful to you. Which is not to say that I haven't loved being with you like this. I love you, Apple."
"I love you too, Jacks. And the only person that you're gonna be sklooging is me!"
A/N: Okay guyz calm down - it's been April all along. I inserted clues throughout. She overheard them in the corridor so that's why she repeated the words to him. There had to be a little doubt, lol, to make it interesting but I guess I assumed that if the little clues didn't give it away then their last conversation would. Did you not wonder how April ended up in that hotel room huh? But anyway...quite sorry if this upset you. For anyone that knows me, I would never go there ;-)
