Title: I Need You (Like I Need A Gaping Head Wound)
Author: Donnie
Fandom: Saw
Setting: Peter Strahm's Apartment
Pairing: Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm
Characters: Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 874
Type of Work: One-Shot, Companion To A Terrible Waste
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Alcohol Abuse, Mark's Still An Alcoholic, Vaguely Repressed Feelings
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Mark Hoffman had something very important to do. Peter Strahm didn't understand why it had to be done at 3am.
AN: Alright, so I've been trying to write more and I feel like things are getting easier. It's amazing how much I've been able to get done these past few days, and I'm really proud of myself. So, except more fic, I guess. I'm really on a roll again for once.
I Need You (Like I Need A Gaping Head Wound) ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first time Mark Hoffman kissed Peter Strahm, it was a distraction.
With case files spread over his desk, Peter had been in the middle of some kind of personal investigation of him, and the kiss had stunned him long enough for him to swipe something.
It was the drunken mess of a second kiss that had brought Mark to the other's apartment, leaning on his doorway before the other man answered the door in a t-shirt and boxers.
"Hoffma-" He barely got the word out in his sleepy, gruff tone before Mark was on him, lips mashed together in an uncoordinated clash of teeth and lips. While Peter caught the other man, his shocked expression didn't change until Mark pulled back just enough to share breath and try to speak.
"What's the matter, Pete?" There was no denying he was drunk, lost to whatever sadness had taken him that evening, but whatever had caused it, it was now Peter's problem.
"It's three in the morning." Came the soft reply, almost a plea as he held Mark's face in his hands, trying to keep him from leaning back in, "And you smell like a brewery."
"I keep thinking about you." The admission wasn't something Peter had been expecting, but he was going to have to roll with it. "I can't keep you out of my Goddamn head." And maybe it had had something to do with why he'd started drinking in the first place that night.
"What have you been thinking about?" Mark gave him a look that said 'what do you think', but he just shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Why don't you come in, we can… Talk." Though Peter wasn't totally sure that Mark would let him get in any words with his tongue down his throat.
"Yeah…" That sounded good, get him on the couch and kiss him senseless. Maybe Mark should have questioned just why he was there, drunk, at three AM instead of only focusing on his end goal, because Peter looked tired and thoroughly unamused.
Once the door was closed behind them and Peter had gestured to his couch, Mark had a solid idea of how he wanted to spend the next three hours before work. As he crashed into the soft leather and settled in, Peter sat down a little easier, as if he had to go slow for his waking brain. Placing both hands flat on his knees, he finally turned to look at the drunken mess that was his coworker, watching the cocky, self-assured smirk blooming on his face.
"What do you want, Hoffman?" The way he said it sounded so impersonal, but Mark let it roll like water off a duck's back and leaned forward a little more.
"You." Came the easy reply, his face mere inches from Peter's in such a short span of time he was shocked. The other man didn't have time or energy to pull away before their lips met again, softer this time. One hand gently slapped his face as Mark moved to hold it, and he moaned softly into the kiss. If he were honest, his preoccupation with Mark had grown considerably, and the kiss felt like a welcome relief, washing over him. Part of him knew it was wrong, told him to push the other away, to run to his room and lock the door.
Instead, they fisted in the other's rumpled button down, tugging him closer. Apparently, Mark wasn't the only one who really wanted this. Just like in his office, Peter was taken aback by just how much he needed Mark's body pressing him into the couch, how much he desired to be held and maybe even ravaged by the man on top of him.
Mark's lips parted and his tongue swiped over the other's lips, which opened easily to welcome his hungry licking. Rough, large hands slipped down to Peter's hips and he keened softly, bucking up into Mark desperately. The other's mouth fell to his neck, sucking and nibbling at his skin for a solid minute before everything seemed to shuffle to a close. He could feel the other's forehead on his shoulder, and his stomach plummeted.
"Mark…?" The question came out soft, a whisper, and he glanced down as much as he could. A soft snore against his jaw made him curse, and he balled his fists at his sides. How dare Mark Hoffman get him so keyed up and then fall asleep on top of him. If nothing else, he felt entirely betrayed by the way his body still reacted to the weight above him. Eyes flitting across the room to the clock above the doorway to the hall, he sighed. Three-thirty am. He guessed he could nap until his alarm went off, if he could ignore just how hard he was, now. Fucking Mark.
He wasn't going to get away with this. At the very least, with his curiosity sated, Peter was pretty sure that there was going to be some kind of discussion of feelings the next time they were alone. Provided Mark wasn't totally drunk and still open to listen to him pour his heart out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
Prompt: Slake - To lessen or allay (Thirst, desire, wrath, etc.) by satisfying.