Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. This writing is for entertainment purposes only and is not for profit.
Notes: This was probably the randomest idea I ever had during a Biology test (which I still managed to succeed on despite the sexies running around in my head). I really need an intervention for Grey's, it's beginning to get to me.
The beginning of summer has set in, bringing with it the occasional patch of sunlight in the cloudy Seattle sky. It's that weeklong stretch during which everything at the hospital seems to go crazy. Two days remain until the intern exam, and the surgical wing just can't operate normally without its lowest class. Things are especially bad this time around, since this year's class decided to actually remain at home, unlike the last one to pass through. The residents and attendings hate to admit how much they need their interns, but it's hard not to when they have to do their own pre- and post-ops and (heaven forbid) run their own labs.
Mark Sloan is definitely feeling it as he finally returns to his Archfield residence after a longer-than-usual shift. He lets the door fall closed behind him with a deep sigh of exhaustion. "Hey," he calls out lazily, closing his eyes and extending his arms upward in a luxurious stretch.
The reply he receives isn't actually a reply at all; it's a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgement coming from across the room. He raises an eyebrow as he sees her sitting on the couch against the opposite wall, completely wrapped up in her own little world. She's in the same position she was in when he left hours ago, legs curled beneath her, flashcards and note cards and books and papers strewn about on the sofa and floor around her, still dressed in her pajamas of shorts and a tee shirt. Her eyes are fixed intently on a ring of cards, shifting from side to side as she rapidly reads.
"You're still at it?" he asks as if the answer could be anything but "yes", other eyebrow joining the first. Lexie looks up at him for an instant before looking back down at her material, giving another grunt – affirmative – along with a slight inclination of her head. He gives one quiet laugh before moving aside a text book (Netter's Atlas of Human Anatomy, of course) and an open bag of potato chips she's probably been stress-eating from and sitting next to her. He leans over and kisses her on the lips and finds out that he was correct; her lips taste like Lay's. She kisses back distractedly, almost keeping one eye open and on the words on the note card.
"You should take a break," he says, crossing his ankles and inclining backward, hands resting behind his head. "You've been working for way too long."
"I know, I will." Her tone is preoccupied, almost annoyed. Mark hears a bit of unease in her voice, a hint that something just isn't right. Lexie's not good at hiding her emotions in the first place, and now, he can read her like a book. He sees right through her and to the problem.
"You're nervous," he comments in surprise, a statement rather than a question. His lips curl into a teasing smirk as she tears herself away to glare at him, dark eyebrows drawn together. She has the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes.
"I most certainly am not," she says firmly. He chuckles again as she cracks, face melting into one of insecurity and sinking back against the cushion. "Okay, I am. But so what? It's a huge test, it basically determines my future." She purses her lips at him and crosses her arms, daring him to speak.
"So," he half-laughs, placing a hand on her bare knee, "you have a photographic memory, Lex. You told me so yourself. You probably know more than me." He makes a face and quickly corrects himself. "Doubtfully, though." She smiles sarcastically at him, matching his smirk.
"Doesn't change the fact that I'm nervous," she sighs, eyes rolling to the ceiling. "I just don't feel prepared yet. I need to be more ready for this exam than anyone else. You have no idea what a terrible inferiority complex I have." Little does she know that he has noticed (a lot) and sympathizes completely – he's developed one of his own after years of competition with Derek.
Her voice changes to one that's slightly sad, with an almost undetectable shudder to it. "And I've seen how devastating it can be to fail this test. It's like complete debilitation. I was nervous when George retook his, and now that it's my turn, I'm totally freaking out." She looks up at him, eyes huge with a finally revealed worry.
Mark shakes his head, softening as he sees just how anxious she is. Her cheeks are somehow both flushed and pale at the same time, and her forehead is wrinkled. Her eyebrows are stuck in a permanent concerned expression, and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth. It makes him feel bad for her. She's the picture of stress. She gets herself worked up about things that she doesn't need to be, and he doesn't quite understand that.
At one point, her mother probably would have been there to help her out, to reassure her, telling her that everything would be alright. Now, she's got him. She needs to relax, and he knows just how to calm her down. After today, he could use some recreation as well. Besides, she just looks so damn alluring; so innocent, like a damsel in distress. It also doesn't hurt that the shorts she has on barely reach the middle of her thighs. He smiles, pulling the notes from her hand. She would thank him for this later.
"Alright, Little Miss Nerves, what are you working on now?" he asks, scanning the card. "The muscular system. Okay. I'll quiz you." He clears his throat in an attempt to sound official. "Welcome to the Mark Sloan School of Anatomy. Today's lesson: basic muscles."
The lecherous grin that breaks across his face tips Lexie off right away. "Come on, Mark," she whines, trying to snatch the card back. He holds it out of her reach, holding her tight against the couch.
"You need to take a break," he repeats slowly, tossing the notes over his shoulder, "and this will help you." She sighs and collapses weakly, pouting. Recognizing her surrender, he stands and leans over her, pressing his lips to her forehead, just to the right of the center. "Which muscle am I over right now?" he murmurs against her skin.
"Frontalis," she answers begrudgingly.
"Good." His lips roam down her cheeks, stopping when he reaches the place where her jaw makes an angle with her chin. "Here?"
She's still tense, but not totally rigid like before. She leans into him in the smallest way possible. "Masseter. You are a major distraction, you know that?" He doesn't reply but just continues, mouth grazing across her throat, and she shivers. They stop above her collarbone, and he glances up at her, blue eyes telling her to answer this one. "Sternocleidomastoid."
"Right." He rewards her by sucking and nipping gently at the spot, earning a tiny moan. He kneels on the floor, now, taking a hold of her arm. "This one will be too easy," he says before his mouth comes to her bicep.
"Biceps brachii." She rolls her eyes. "Honestly, Mark?" He shrugs as he moves down her arm, feeling goosebumps rise after his lips and fingers, lingering on the soft and sensitive skin in the middle of her forearm. "Brachioradialis," she exhales quietly, allowing her head to rest completely against the back of the sofa, giving in to Mark's pampering.
He smiles warmly. "See? You know this stuff," he reassures her. "Now, field trip." In one fluid motion he picks Lexie up and moves quickly to the bed. She squeals with laughter as he tosses her onto its surface, crawling over her before kissing her full on the lips. She wraps her legs around his waist and links her arms behind his neck, pulling him into her. After a few moments of lips wrestling with intermittent sighs, he breaks away, grinning down at her.
Mark slowly removes her shirt, fingertips skimming across the flesh of her sides. "External obliques," she answers smartly. He sneers down at her, unhooking her bra and removing it from her.
"Next," he goes on, cupping her bare breasts in his hands. She groans as his palms, rough and warm, slide against her nipples.
"Pectoralis major," she manages to babble, mind becoming clouded with arousal. Somewhere, though, it registers that there's something she needs to tell him. "Um, I haven't showered today," she admits, slightly embarrassed.
"I don't care."
His mouth heads for her stomach, moving in a zig-zag line towards her navel, and her breath begins to come a bit more heavily. She giggles, his beard tickling her skin. "Want to kiss my gluteus maximus?" she asks, laughing languidly, the noise setting Mark's nerves ablaze. She feels his lips curl into a smile against her flesh.
"Here," he breathes out hotly against her belly, drawing a whimper from her throat. He holds her hips, palms pressed against the soft fabric of her shorts. It tingles wherever his hands touch her bare flesh.
"Rectus abdominis." He nods, eyes darkening as his thumbs hook the waistband of her shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one motion. He removes them from around her ankles and drops them to the floor.
He reaches for her legs, hands brushing between her thighs in a way that is in no way meant to be subtle. She jolts, a loud moan bubbling over. He kisses the outside of her knee, teeth gently running across her skin. "Vastus lateralis." She's panting now, the words coming in short bursts, chest rising and falling more exaggeratedly than usual. Her flesh ignites at his touch, and she's breaking out in a sudden sweat. The pit of her stomach burns with desire, ebbing and flowing as the moments pass.
Mark smirks lustily. "Final Jeopardy," he announces, voice husky and hushed. He places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh just below the apex of her thighs, tongue sliding against the smooth skin of her leg. Lexie gasps and squirms, hips lifting far off the bed. Her hands automatically move to hold his head, gripping for all she's worth.
"Adductor longus!" she gasps in a breath that she apparently was holding in, struggling against the tension inside of her to answer. She has a feeling she knows what her reward will be, and she needs it now. His hands come to her waist, holding her still against the bed.
In silent affirmation, his mouth moves just a bit northward; with a cry of pleasure, Lexie forgets what an intern exam is.