I hope this is okay since this technically isn't slash|
Title: Say it (revised
Summery: Girl!Mark and Roger's relationship changes irrevocably on New Years
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Jonathan Larson and the story was originally written by kisstheboy7 and she has very kindly allowed me to tamper with her work
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,
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
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
Then she remembered.
"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
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
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
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
"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
Somehow they had gone from playful to serious in a matter of seconds.
"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.
This may have been a simple fuck for Roger but Amanda was pretty sure she was going to have some
sleepless nights over this.
Was it true? Did Roger want her? For more than a night? Did it mean something other then kinky
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