Title:Say it revisionist
Summery: Amanda (Mark) and Roger's relationship change irrevocably on New Years
Notes: This work belongs exclusively to Toni (kisstheboy7) and I have been given permission to put my spin on it. I
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Jonathan Larson
New Years Eve. Enter Amanda, for once leaving her camera in her room (at Roger's request), her hands feeling useless without it's comforting weight. Roger, who has been acting strangely around the filmmaker for more than a week, welcomes Collins with a bear hug and a slap on the back. The tall black man has once again brought some of his stash and a good amount of Stoli and Absolut vodka. He knows how to keep the Bohemians entertained. Angel enters after him, rapping a beat with her drumsticks, laughing.
Maureen and Joanne arrive, carrying two bags of chips, a large tub of dip and a case of soda, They greet everyone cheerfully. Mimi arrives shortly after, a bright smile, she doesn't give Roger a longing look as she might of done a year ago-she's over him, moving on, building a life, no day like today.
Fast forward one hour. Somehow, and for the life of her Amanda can't remember how, she's ended up sitting on the dusty floor in a circle with the others, and there's a bottle of Absolut in the middle. Everyone has a shot glass in their hand and they're already buzzed. They have persuaded her to join in their drinking game and she couldn't remember why she wouldn't want to.
Then she remembered.
Maureen.
"Truth or dare, Mandy?" she answers with truth because she can't pick dare-she's chickenshit. Everyone knows Amanda would never pick dare, especially from Maureen.
She asks her, big brown eyes big and mischievous, "If you could have sex with one person in this room, without an uncomfortable morning after, who would you fuck?"
Amanda blames it on the alcohol, a mixture of drunkenness and fearlessness that makes her point to Roger, because really it's never going to happen. Roger likes rocker chicks, girls who wear their sexuality on their sleeves, not shy geeks who can't be without their camera for ten minutes without feeling socially inept. For once she feels open and free and she giggles at her own answer as without comment Maureen continues the game. If she were sober she would question why Maureen hadn't raised an eyebrow, why no-one questioned her or made a remark but she was on the right side of being blissed out and didn't care.
Fast forward another hour and Collins' long body is sprawled out on their couch, completely stoned, Angel lies half asleep in his arms. Marijuana smoke drifts languidly around the room whilst Maureen is singing, slightly off key, Mandy notes, inwardly giggling, to an old portable radio she had brought whilst Mimi accompanies her and Joanne looks on lovingly but with definite amusement in her warm brown eyes.
Roger, of course, is smashed just like Maureen. Amanda takes a long look around the loft, trying to focus on her wayward roommate. He'd been weird ever since truth or dare but she hadn't been able to figure out why.
Maureen's shriek pierces the air as she looks wildly at the clock, her hands flailing about trying to count them in
"5...4...3...2...1...HAPPY NEW YEAR!" There is a general shout from the Bohemians and Angel claps snuggling deeper onto Collins. Maureen pulls Joanne in for a kiss and the lawyer obliges, even grabbing herself a piece of ass as she does so. Amanda grins at the sight. It's cool to see Joanne so loose, especially since Maureen has no problem with public groping. Amanda would even call her a fan.
Mimi slumps against the couch and Angel takes her hand and squeezes gently. Mimi's face lights up and Amanda feels her heart expand for her friend. A year ago she had feared for the dancer's life and now she looks happy and content and young.
Amanda admires her, a small part of her wishing that she had someone to kiss, someone to ring in the new year. She's half tempted to kiss Mimi, just for a laugh. She knows Mimi will take it in the spirit it is due.
The thought is brief and half formed, because barely a second after she thinks it she is turned around and slammed into the wall, kissed savagely by one Roger Davis.
Before she can draw breath she feels her legs being spread and she feels Roger's knee between her thighs and she can feel his hardness rubbing against her deliciously in a way that makes her see flashing lights.
She feels a hand run through her hair and then grip hard, even as he's pressing his body against hers. There is no part of them not touching and Amanda finds herself pinned up against the wall, even as she felt his teeth nibble at her lips and then the warmth of his tongue forced into her mouth, caressing and writhing.
She's never been kissed like this before, with this much hunger, like Roger wants to devour her right up against the wall with all their friends watching and all she can do is wrap her left leg around his hips, rubbing restlessly against the hardness that is so close but too far away to get any satisfaction.
Amanda gasps into the warm cavern of his mouth as she feels Roger's hand caress the leg she has wrapped around him from her knee up, underneath her plain denim skirt, and over her thighs. His hand was hot and she could feel it brand her skin.
There was no room for thinking, because suddenly Roger is moving and she can only cling to him as he stumbles towards the bedroom at the end of the hallway, away from the commotion in the living room. Roger's mouth is hard on hers as he leads her backwards into the room, fumbling to close the door behind them even as he is desperately running the other up and down her torso underneath her shirt.
Amanda hears the click of the door shutting from far away and suddenly they are alone in the dark in Roger's room.
"Fuck, fuck, Mandy," Roger groaned in his ear, breath harsh and wet and moist in his ear as he bore her down onto the bed. The huskiness of his voice dripped sex and promise and Amanda rubbed her legs together to ease the itch he had created in her.
This was Roger, her roommate, who suddenly bore little resemblance to the man pulling her shirt off and grinding down on her, and any alarm bells she may have had were lost in the cacophony of blood pounding in her ears.
"Roger..." Her feeble attempt to push him away was cut off by Roger's tongue in her mouth. In one smooth motion that spoke of years of experience Roger found the latch to her bra strap, arching her body up so he could throw it into a dark corner, possibly forever. Her back found the mattress again as his lips moved lower, capturing a hardened nipple between his teeth and sucking, even as his other hand moved to unbutton her skirt and drag it down her legs along with her panties.
Suddenly there is bare skin and Amanda can't help but to touch, fingers roaming effortlessly against the smooth skin of his chest, broad and full despite his past addictions. She finds herself wondering just what Roger had in store for her and how she has become pinned onto Roger's bed, even as Roger captures her small wrists in one big calloused hand and holds them above her head.
This is when Amanda puts two and two together. How many times she had come home to the frantic, almost animalistic noises coming from Roger's room and how many headphones had she busted in her attempts to drown out the noises. But it hadn't worked. Roger had always mentioned things jokingly in conversation: handcuffs, whipped cream, collars. And Amanda had always assumed they were jokes because she had known that Roger liked to embarrass her, knowing that her fair skin made her a prime target. Roger just being Roger.
Her thoughts are derailed as she feels the thick material of her scarf being wrapped around her wrists instead of Roger's hand, and she finds herself tied securely to the bedpost even as she felt him straddle her.
"Mandy..." Roger's voice was suddenly in her ear and as he leaned close to lick the curve of her ear she whimpered impatiently. As soon as the sound left her she felt Roger's grip tighten as the musician sucked in a low breath above her.
For a moment Amanda was sure she had done something wrong. It had been a while since she had found herself in this situation, before Roger's drug addiction to be sure and she had never been on fire like this, desperate for even the barest touch. She was sure Roger was beginning to realize who he had tied to his bedpost and was regretting it.
But then Roger pushed his boxer clad erection against her and growled, "Fuck. Do that again." And Amanda nearly came right there. A startled moan escaped her, high and needy, her hips pushing desperately upwards, seeking friction.
"Fuck..." Roger hissed, drawing out the word as his fingers inched closer to her clit.
"You're so fuckin' hot...I'm gonna fuck you so hard into this mattress that you won't even remember your own name."
Amanda whimpered, feeling the wetness seep over Roger's fingers at his words.
"Rog...Rog...Oh God ROGER!" Amanda squeaked. One of the musicians fingers was inside her and she could feel herself clench around him, wanting more. She cried out as he curled his finger suddenly. "FUCK! Roger, shit, please..."
Amanda swore she saw Roger flash a wicked grin in the dark even as he slid down her body until he was lying between her legs.
She could feel the silky softness of Roger's hair on her belly even as he leaned forward and licked a strip against her mound, circling her clit deliciously, enough to tease, to promise but nothing more. He repeated the movement, slowly easing a second finger into her, scissoring gently,
Amanda twisted her wrists uselessly against the restraints, eyes squeezed shut at the exquisite pleasure pain, moaning Roger's name under his breath.
Her whole body convulsed as the songwriter flicked his tongue over her clit at the same time as his fingers twisted inside of her, matching the rhythm perfectly, her hips arching to meet Roger's mouth.
"Please, please, Roger"
His tongue continued the torturous pace, speeding up and slowing down, but never so that Amanda could predict it, forcing her out onto the precipice without falling over. She could feel her orgasm at the tips of her fingers. As if Roger could hear her thoughts he drew his tongue over her entrance once and said, almost conversationally:
"I could do this all night, keep you begging me to fuck you..."
Amanda's breath came out in a sob.
"Or I could fuck you, fuck your tight little pussy till you screamed my name. Do you want me Mandy? Want my cock inside of you?"
The sound of the condom wrapper being undone allowed her to find her voice.
"Please. Please, Roger, fuck me now. I want you. So fucking bad. NOW" She would be embarrassed by the naked need in her voice if she were anywhere else, if Roger wasn't leaning over her, running his hands over her breasts and stomach in smooth, feathery touches.
"I'm gonna make you fucking scream my name," he promised, positioning himself over the bound and eager Mandy. "Ready?"
Roger didn't wait for a reply as he plunged smoothly into his roommate. Amanda cried out below him, and he stilled, waiting for her to adjust before pulling out and sliding back in to her. Hard.
"Roger!" she gasped, trying to get her bearings. Her body had forgotten this pleasure pain and Roger wasn't being gentle.
"Shh, Mandy, I've got you," he replied soothingly. There was a gentle press of his lips on hers and then sweet Roger was gone again and she was being pounded into the mattress. But a minute later Amanda didn't care. Her body adjusted around him and she welcomed his fast, smooth strokes, her thrust upwards meeting his downwards stroke half way and all she could feel was fire all around her. Roger's hands were around her hips and she was sure she was going to be bruised tomorrow, her wrists burned as she turned them uselessly in her scarf.
Sweat beaded at her throat and Roger swiped it with an upwards curl of his tongue, nibbling at the juncture where her throat met her shoulder.
Suddenly Roger stopped, and Amanda's body shuddered from the lack of stimulation, her heart hammering against her ribcage. All she could see were those deep, deep green eyes staring her down.
"You're mine, say it." Roger whispered against her throat and Amanda whimpered her agreement.
"Please, please, Roger!" Amanda begged, but Roger shook his head.
"Say it. You're mine. I want to hear it."
"Roger..." Amanda breathed. Her eyes went to the door- if the loft lacked one thing it was privacy. They had paper thin walls. It was unlikely that their friends hadn't heard what they were doing, but Amanda hoped that they were too drunk and out of it to figure it out. If she did what Roger wanted, though... she shut her eyes.
"I can't! They're all still out there..."
Roger ran an idle finger across her clit and Amanda choked on her breath.
"Say it Mandy. You know that it's true." He paused, and then each word was punctuated with a slow rotation around her clit. "Say. It. Now."
The last was a command and Amanda was helpless to do anything but obey.
"Fuck, fuck, alright, I'm yours, fuck." Roger groaned underneath his breath and resumed thrusting into her with renewed vigor. Amanda, as Roger had promised, screamed his name.
There was a brilliant flash of red and gold outside the window as Alphabet City celebrated the new year. Amanda stared at the ceiling as her breath evened out. She watched as Roger disposed of the condom and pulled on a pair of boxers.
"Are you going to untie me?"
"Are you going to be a good girl?" Roger asked.
"I think I've proved I am a very good girl."
There was something unreadable in Roger's voice as he leaned over her until he was all she could see.
"Stay."
Somehow they had gone from playful to serious in a matter of seconds.
"I can't."
"You're going to have to leave this room sometime. Either now or tomorrow they are going to make their own assumptions about what happened." A wicked, tilting grin, "Although I'm pretty sure it's beyond dispute. Face them alone now, or together tomorrow."
She was caught and he knew it, but there was something gentle in Roger's eyes, and Amanda didn't have the energy to collect her clothes and walk back to her own room. Her legs were jelly, her body ached and she wanted to sleep but even more dangerous was this feeling she had ruthlessly repressed since before April.
Loving Roger.
This may have been a simple fuck for Roger but Amanda was pretty sure she was going to have some sleepless nights over this.
You're mine.
Was it true? Did Roger want her? For more than a night? Did it mean something other then kinky sex games?
Roger was flat out in bed, hand covering his face, "Stop thinking so much Mandy and come to bed."
There was nothing else to do but get under the covers. She tried to keep her heart from thudding as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the burn on her wrists
..