
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/34383.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      17_Again_(2009)
  Relationship:
      Mark_Gold/Scarlett_O'Donnell
  Character:
      Mark_Gold_aka_teenage_Mike, Scarlett_O'Donnell
  Additional Tags:
      Het, Plot_What_Plot
  Collections:
      Yuletide_2009
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-12-21 Words: 2359
****** Could've, Would've, Might've ******
by strippedhalo
Summary
     Sometimes, at the end of the day, she likes to run herself a hot
     bath, lie back, and think about how things might have been, how they
     would have gone if she'd never found out who Mark Gold really was.
Scarlett is glad about how things turned out, so grateful for whatever magic
brought the Mike that she loved back to her and the kids, but sometimes.
Sometimes, at the end of the day, she likes to run herself a hot bath, lie
back, and think about how things might have been, how they would have gone if
she'd never found out who Mark Gold really was.
--
It's been a long day, and Scarlett is exhausted. More than that, her heart is
so sore. She doesn't know how this can be so hard. She threw Mike out, she
applied for the divorce, this was her choice, but she misses him all the time.
Even more, now, with Alex's friend Mark hanging around all the time, wearing
Mike's face, the one he had when they were young and perfect.
The kids are both gone for the night, so she doesn't bother closing the bedroom
door before getting undressed. When she is down to her lingerie, she picks up
her hairbrush and starts running it slowly through her hair, wincing every time
the bristles snag in a tangle.
"Is that a new bra?" someone says from the shadows. Scarlett is too startled to
scream, all she can do is brandish her hairbrush like it's something that will
do any good against a murderer or a rapist or... Mark, who is stepping into the
dim light from the bedside lamp.
"What the hell are you doing in here?" She drops the hairbrush and grabs the
closest bit of clothing she sees, a cardigan thrown over the foot of the bed.
It's not enough to preserve her modesty, but it's better than nothing. "This is
totally inappropriate, Mark, what were you thinking?"
"Sorry, I just. I wanted to see you." It shouldn't be flattering, but he looks
so earnest, and his words start a little curl of warmth unfurling in her chest.
Or maybe that's the three glasses of wine she had after dinner.
"How did you even get in?" He keeps moving, taking slow steps across the room
toward her. She thinks she should step back, preserve the distance, but doesn't
want to lose ground, doesn't want to give anything away.
He takes another step forward. "I used the hide-a-key." The hide-a-key, of
course, the one that nobody is supposed to know about, especially not teenaged
stalkers-in-training, no matter how attractive Scarlett might secretly think
they are.
"That is crossing the line, Mark," she says sternly, as though this kid cares
anything at all about lines or boundaries or decency, considering he's been
hiding in her bedroom, watching her undress. "You can't keep doing things like
this."
"Why not?" He is right up in her space now, and although they are nearly the
same height, it feels like he is towering over her. Scarlett wonders if she has
made a tactical error by not backing away. He must have gotten the wrong
impression - even if it is secretly the right one.
"Listen, Mark, I know that kids today. The trend is." She cannot believe she
has to say these words. "I know that in movies and the internet, whatever,
people like to talk about, you know, moms you'd like to, um, but that really
doesn't mean that you should..."
He cuts off her babbling with a laugh, but the sound is somehow melancholy.
"You are so much more than that to me," he whispers. He is so close now, so
close and she can feel his breath on her mouth, his chest barely brushing hers
with each inhalation. His eyes are so blue, and he looks so much like Mike, and
he is so young. They stay like that for a moment, too long, and just as she's
about to pull away, he sways forward and kisses her.
He tastes like Mike's favourite chewing gum and Mike's favourite beer, but he
kisses her like he has never wanted anything more in his life, and Mike hasn't
kissed her like that in years. His hands come up to cradle his face, and she
should be pulling away, this is so, so wrong, but it's so nice to be touched,
and instead of pulling back, she shoves both hands into his hair. She runs her
fingers through, gets it good and messy, and then tugs sharply at a handful.
Mark gasps and breaks away from the kiss, and then he is shoving forward, even
closer, his hands on her back pulling her flush against his body.
She can feel how hard he is, and so eager, like a teenage boy. Which is what he
is, she remembers with a jolt. Mark is a teenager, Jesus Christ, he's the same
age as Maggie, only a couple of years older than Alex. What is she doing, this
is crazy, but then he slips his hand inside her cardigan where it's gaping
open, and that train of thought goes abruptly off the rails.
Mark's fingers trip over her breasts, rubbing gently against a peaked nipple
over the fabric of her bra. It is new, a ridiculous, uncomfortable thing that
Naomi made her buy, saying that she should dress like a woman who expected to
get laid, even if she wasn't getting any. Right about now, she figures that she
might owe Naomi a drink.
Speaking of drinks, Scarlett thinks maybe she should have stopped at two
glasses of wine earlier, because without any conscious thought, her hands are
suddenly at Mark's waist, tugging his shirt up and over his head. His abs are
just as amazing as she won't admit that she thought they'd be, and she runs her
hands over them, marvelling at the way the muscles jump under his smooth skin
at her touch.
Then, like a switch has been flipped, Mark is shoving the cardigan off of her
shoulders, and she is reaching to undo his belt and fumbling open the buttons
on his ridiculously tight jeans. His cock springs up as soon as it has room to
move, the fat, shiny head of it poking out above the waistband of his navy blue
boxer shorts.
Mark grabs her thighs just where they meet her butt and lifts. She wraps her
legs around his trim, athlete's waist and puts her arms around his neck. Her
head is higher than his, this way, so she bends her neck to reach his mouth
again, and they kiss and kiss and kiss. He is trembling all over, she can feel
it, but his grip on her is secure, and she doesn't worry that he will drop her.
His cock is hard between them, pressed right up against her, and she wiggles a
little, grinds down against it, and Mark makes a shocked, broken sound and
comes, wet rush of warmth soaking into the delicate fabric of her panties.
"Oh my god," Mark says. He sounds wrecked, and Scarlett feels him sway a
little, so she puts her feet back on the floor. "Oh my god," he says again,
resting his forehead on her collarbone, and oh my god, she thinks, as reality
starts trying to set in again. What did she just do?
"Mark, hey," she says, smoothing a hand down his bare back in as non-sexual a
manner as she can, considering she is touching a half-naked guy who just came
all over her. She needs to distance herself, try to reduce the fallout from the
catastrophe that has just occurred, but Mark is kissing her clavicle, just tiny
presses of lips, and it's getting hard to think again. She tries to work up the
determination to push him away, but before she finds it, he raises his head and
kisses her again, even more passionately than before.
"Oh my god," he keeps muttering into her mouth, and before she knows it he is
walking her backwards toward the bed. He tumbles her down onto it, eyes boring
into her as he undoes his jeans the rest of the way and kicks them off along
with his boxers. He's most of the way to hard again already, she sees, because
he is seventeen, oh my god, but before she can start to freak out again, Mark
brushes his thumb over that spot on her inner thigh that gets her going every
time.
She must have made some noise, because Mark looks at her and almost smirks
before he climbs fully onto the bed. He puts his hand in the bend of her knee
and angles her leg just so, and then he dips his head and bites at that spot.
Scarlett knows she makes a noise this time, hears the short, sharp cry she lets
out, and feels the way her whole body arches off the bed.
Scarlett pants as he licks over the reddened skin, the shocky pleasure of it
leaving her unable to even think about protesting as Mark works her ruined
panties down and off, a decidedly smug look on his face. He tosses them off the
end of the bed without a backward glance and presses the tenderest kiss just
below her navel. The kiss turns into a lick, and Scarlett moans as he drags his
tongue in a wet stripe up her abdomen, stopping only when he encounters the
bottom edge of her bra.
Mark works his hands under her body to fiddle with the clasp, but his mouth
stays busy, kissing and licking and sucking along the tops of her breasts. She
brings a hand up to cup the back of his head, tugs at his hair once more, and
his hands still underneath her back. He lifts his head just enough that she can
see his expression, and his eyes are wild and dark when their gazes meet. She
pulls on his hair again, and he growls, yanking his hands out from underneath
her and jerking one cup of her bra down, having evidently given up on getting
the whole apparatus off. Mark's mouth comes down on her exposed breast
immediately, and he places frantic kisses and little nips all over it before he
sucks her nipple in, tiny hurt-sounding noises escaping him all the while. She
has both hands on his head now, holding him in place, gripping his hair so
tightly when he scrapes the gentlest hint of teeth over her sensitive nipple.
His hips are working the whole time, rubbing his erection mindlessly over her
hipbone, and her body is responding, rocking her pelvis up to meet his with
every thrust. With his mouth still busy at her breast, he reaches one hand down
to touch between her legs. She is so wet for him already, so primed that all it
takes is one good rub of his fingers over her clit and her inner walls are
clenching, muscles working helplessly as she comes.
She comes, but Mark is the one who cries out, moving up to push his mouth
against hers again, drinking in her shuddery breaths. His kisses are frantic
now, and he has to turn his head away and take several deep breaths before he
asks, "Can I?" It's the first time he has actually asked her permission for any
of this, and she knows that she should say no, she should be the adult, but she
wants it, wants him so much.
Scarlett nods, rasps out, "Yeah, yes," in a voice that she doesn't even
recognize. Mark bites his bottom lip and looks suddenly like he might cry, but
instead he kisses her again, and when he pulls back he flashes her a smile that
is equal parts joy and reassurance.
She starts to tell him where the condoms are, in the middle drawer of the
nightstand on what used to be Mike's side of the bed, but he's already there,
grabbing a foil packet like he knew exactly where to find it.
He has been confident up to now, so assured of himself, but his hands are
shaking as he works to rip open the condom wrapper, and when he drops it for
the second time, Scarlett picks it up. She gets the condom out and rolls it
onto him, more slowly than she needs to, getting a feel for his hard cock,
every bit as gorgeous as the rest of him.
Mark is trembling all over, now, so she tries to sound gentle when she says,
"Come on." What she wants to do is scream it, come on, come on, nownowNOW, but
she holds it in as she lays back, coaxing him down with her. "Come on." She
pets his face, strokes down his back. She gets both hands on his ass and pulls
a little, urges him closer until he's almost where she wants him. "Come on."
His confidence seems to come back as swiftly as it went, and soon Mark is
taking control. He tugs her down the mattress just a bit and coaxes her legs up
and around his waist. He gets himself into position, holding back just long
enough to ask, "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she breathes, and he pushes forward. She holds her breath during his
exquisite slide in, not wanting anything at all to compete with this feeling.
She starts again when he's all the way in, but by then Mark has stopped
breathing.
"Mi- Mark?" She stumbles over his name, driving home the fact that she has
never, ever done this before with anyone but Mike.
"I missed you so much," Mark whispers, and she has no idea what that even
means, but he starts moving then, long slow drags of his cock inside her, and
it feels so much like coming home that she thinks she must have missed him,
too, even though they've never done this before.
"Yeah," she gasps. "Yeah."
--
In her real life, Scarlett lets the cooling water out of the tub. She dries
herself off with a fluffy towel, moisturizes, and slips into her nightgown. In
the bedroom, her husband is already asleep, but he stirs when she joins him
under the covers.
"Hey, baby," he mumbles. "Good bath?"
Scarlett smiles into her pillow. "Yes," she tells him. "Very relaxing."
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