Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Helly likes having Mark behind her, but Mark clearly fucking loves it.

Helly likes it for the way her breasts press into the desk, hard and unyielding in a way that’s not quite painful. She likes the angle it lets Mark find inside her, where every thrust of him spears her in that tender spot that makes her eyes water and her belly clench.

She likes the fact she doesn’t have to look at him, sometimes. The times when the sight of his caramel brown eyes, his crooked smile and his stupid fucking nose would be enough to make her cry, because the severed floor is all they’ve got and even that’s feeling precarious these days. It’s much easier sometimes to just bend over and wait for the clink of his belt buckle, to lose herself in the way he takes her body and the hot kisses he presses to her shoulder blades.

But Mark… well. Helly isn’t a false modesty person, she leaves any form of fakery to her outie, and she knows her ass looks pretty good in a pencil skirt. But Mark is obsessed with it. He likes kissing and biting, even licking it a little, before he finally gets himself lined up with her cunt. And then his big hands keep straying down her spine, grabbing her in handfuls, pulling her apart so he can watch his cock slipping inside her like he’s never seen it before. She stifles a laugh, which turns into a shivering moan as Mark licks a bead of sweat from her neck.

So really it’s a surprise that it takes him as long as it does. His thumb is in the cleft between her ass cheeks, grazing up and down until the pad quite blatantly strokes across her hole.

“Would that… is that ok?” he pants. Helly thinks yes. It’s sensitive in a way she hasn’t really experienced before, and it somehow makes the rest of her more sensitive, tighter around him. There’s nothing to be self conscious about; of all her outies flaws, Helly can’t accuse her of being anything less than scrupulous with her hygiene.

Mark strokes her a few more times, and then she feels him trail lower, likes he’s trying to push his thumb into her alongside his cock, which is quite big enough already. He scoops up the slick mess they’re making between them, and then he's pressing inside.

It feels like he’s breached her ass with something far bigger than just his thumb. The sensation is sharp, stretching, uncomfortable even; but her face is hot and her clit is suddenly aching. Mark is barely moving; she can hear him groaning under his breath, pictures him frowning in concentration like he’s locked in refining and doesn’t want to lose the numbers. He flexes his thumb a little and the sensation feels magnified, almost embarrassingly intense.

“Oh fuck, Helly,” he breathes behind her, his voice raw with excitement. “I can feel myself inside you…”

“You’re telling me,” she manages to gasp out. It’s true, she can feel his thumb and his cock, and her pulse pounding in the thin wall in between. “Touch me Mark, please…”

With his free hand he finds her clitoris, and it only takes a few gentle circles with his finger to finish her, pleasure clenching in her belly and her cunt, shooting up her spine to fill her heart with joy. She’s not sure if Mark even tries to make himself last, he’s panting “fuck, fuck, fuck” as he thrusts into her with a ragged rhythm, until he spills in her with a final, heartfelt cry that’s half her name and half a sob.

Afterwards they rest, half sitting half lying against the desk, holding hands, stealing little kisses. Helly leans her head against his chest to hear his pulse gradually settle. It takes a while.

“I guess you really liked that.”

“Yeah,” Mark replies with a sigh that’s almost dreamy, before she feels him flicker with concern. “Did you?”

“I liked it too.”

“Would you ever want to try the whole… thing, maybe?”

“You want to… with that?” She pokes his cock, sticky and deceptively soft where it lolls against his inner thigh; snickers a little at his oversensitive flinch. “I don’t know, boss. I think it’s pretty big.”

“Wow. And they say romance is dead.” His eyes widen. “I don’t want to do anything that’d hurt, obviously. I just… I really like your ass.” He flushes like he wasn’t balls deep inside her ten minutes previous.

“Flattery will get you everywhere. What do you like about it?”

“I don’t know. The way it looks in those skirts.” He raises his hand in a placating gesture. “I know you hate them! But the way it moves when you walk. The shape… it’s like a peach.”

“Like you’ve ever… what does a peach even look like, Mark?”

“Like you.”

“Oh yeah? And what does it taste like?”

He grins back at her. “Like you.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Let me do yours, then you can have mine.”

“I mean… you don’t have a…”

“I’ll improvise. C’mon Mark, you wanna dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“Fine, I guess…”

He’s grumbling, but from the look on his face Helly can tell he’s intrigued. They make out for a time, and then Mark looks at his watch with a sigh.

“Time to get back to the grind.”

“Yeah.” Helly sighs too, then shuffles down a little, parting her thighs to allow Mark to settle between them. She used to get off on the thought of her outie waking up with cumsoaked underwear, but after a while the downsides of sitting all afternoon with her pubic hair getting stuck to her panties began to outweigh the satisfaction. And besides, it makes Mark happy, she thinks, as he lowers his head with a contented sigh at the taste of himself on her skin as he begins to lick her clean.

Chapter Text

One way or another he always seems to end up back in the break room.

Mark thinks back to the first time he took her punishment as his own. Graner’s hand heavy on his shoulder, Helly watching them both with a sceptical twist to her lips. But her eyes were concerned almost in spite of herself, and he’d focussed on the memory of her gaze to make himself brave as he walked into the darkness. Valiant.

It’s different now, all couches and ugly posters, an approximation of natural light. The corridor to get there is still narrow and dark, like they want to discourage innies from using the space apparently set aside for them. He huffs a scornful little laugh. They’re gonna use the space til it’s unusable.

He runs through a mental checklist. He’s brought the big container of hand lotion, intended for refilling the dispenser on the wall next to the soap. He’s spent fifteen minutes with some wet paper towels, contorting awkwardly in front of the mirror. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his outie to wash his own ass, but better safe than sorry.

He’s brought coffee and snacks. This is kind of a date, and he has a vague awareness that that’s what you’re supposed to do, spending his own tokens on the fruit leather and sunflower seeds that Helly favours. And he knows he’ll probably be hungry afterwards too, judging by his previous experience.

Mark remembers the hot, achy, too-full sensation as Milchick rummaged inside him for the pen cap. The sweat trapped between his palms and the table as he kept his hands flat. The tears in his eyes, from the discomfort and also from the dawning awareness that he couldn’t think about something else to take his mind off it, because there wasn’t anything else and the severed floor was his whole life. He’s sweating again now, and very aware of his heartbeat. He wants to bolt; but he’s also deeply, inexplicably turned on. The competing emotions produce a dull, heavy feeling in his belly, a roiling blend of arousal and resentment. It’s his vessel, not Lumon’s, and during the time he’s on the severed floor it’s not his outies either. Helly is his whole life now, and the thought of her being the one to bend him over feels symbolic of that, somehow, as well as so exciting that just the thought of it makes him ache.

Helly slips through the door, and Mark feels his chest immediately lighten. The brush of her lips against his, the warmth of her body in his arms, just the sheer rightness of being close together.

“Hey,” she murmurs, her voice velvet. “I got to seventy percent.”

Mark nods. Seventy percent isn’t enough to trigger a celebration, but it’s a respectable total if anyone’s auditing.

Helly’s eyes search his face. “You ok, boss?” Mark turns away.

“I brought the stuff.”

“I can see.” Helly’s eyes widen as she takes in the industrial-sized container of lotion. “Perks of dating the chief refiner, huh.”

Mark shrugs out of his jacket and loosens his tie, a few buttons too, then lays back against the couch and spreads his legs. He looks up at her; nervous, eager, almost unbearably self conscious. Helly’s looking at him like he’s a problem to be solved or like he’s her next meal. He can’t decide which makes him more light headed. She leans in and straddles his leg, caging him with her arms as she kisses him. Her fingers twine through his hair and his hands smooth down her back. God, it’s good to kiss her, to think of nothing except the warm weight of her keeping him right where she wants him, right where he needs to be.

“You’re getting hard,” she observes, with that secret smile that’s only for the two of them. Mark swallows.

“You kind of have that effect on me.”

Helly’s grin broadens, and she palms him through the front of his slacks. Mark moans. She kisses him again, then nips his lower lip, swallows his gasp. Their noses bump together and they laugh, and then Helly is kissing his cheekbone, his jaw, the side of his neck. She must be able to feel his pulse beneath her tongue, he thinks, a clear stream rushing over warm rocks, the way it feels any time he thinks of her. Let alone with what she’s doing now.

“Helly, c’mon…”

He doesn’t want to come in his shorts before they’ve even gotten started. And he wants her to move onto the main event before he loses his nerve.

“Hold on, Mark,” she chides him. “When it’s your turn you can do anything you want with me.” She smirks in triumph as his cock jerks against her palm. “But right now, I’m in charge.”

“I trust you.”

She settles back on her heels, his leg still pinned between her thighs. Her hand goes to his belt buckle, deliciously warm against his belly for a moment as she fumbles with the button and the zip.

“Lift,” she orders, and he awkwardly thrusts his hips up and off the couch so she can slide his pants and his briefs down his thighs. His cock is flushed and half-hard, idling against his belly, but he can feel himself stiffening under her gaze. His face is hot and his skin is tingling. It’s mortifying, and incredible.

Helly reaches down and grabs the lotion, placing it in easy reach. She looks at him and then at her hand. She slips her forefinger into her mouth. Mark can feel his pulse in his throat as she bares her teeth and then carefully and deliberately begins to bite the carefully shaped and manicured nails until they’re blunt.

“Ready?” she asks, and Mark can only nod.

She pours some of the lotion into her palms, white and creamy, and rubs into her hands almost without thinking. Her hands are always so soft; Mark thinks it must be something her outie does often, although he wouldn’t spoil the moment by saying so. Helly wraps her grip around his shaft, tantalisingly slowly, so he can feel himself swell against her fingers. She strokes him, and Mark can’t help but close his eyes and tip his head back with a sigh. It always feels so good when she does it, like a surprise even though it shouldn’t be. Then her fingers trail lower, pausing at the base to give his balls a quick cup (she seems to find them endlessly fascinating, if not amusing, and he’s never sure whether to be flattered or not). She brushes across his taint, and then she’s there and she’s pressing and Mark almost leaps out of his skin.

He yelps, and Helly yelps too.

“Shit - I’m sorry, Mark! Was that not..?”

“It was just… a little sensitive,” he pants. “And sudden.” Helly nods, taking the feedback way more seriously than any of the advice he’s ever given her on the finer points of macrodata refining. “You need to like, spread some on first. And massage it a little, I guess…”

It’s embarrassing talking about his own asshole that way, and Helly is looking at him curiously.

“It sounds like you’ve done this before?”

“Well obviously, I mean not so much through choice. I told you about the pen cap situation.”

Helly rears back, a look of shock on her face so intense it’s almost disgust.

“Jesus Christ, Mark!”

“What? I told you about it before.” She’s shaking her head; and exasperated is not an emotion he ever expected to feel with his legs spread wide and his dick out, but here he is. “I did! I really specifically advised you not to swallow the pen cap.”

“Ok,” Helly mutters. “But I didn’t realise you wanted to… to reenact that moment.”

“I don’t.”

Helly is glaring at him over folded arms. “I wouldn’t have even suggested this if I thought…”

“You mean if you remembered.”

Her eyes widen a little. Mark feels a mixture of guilt and vindication as she steps back. For a moment he thinks she’s going to snap back at him, but then she takes a deep breath and tames her temper.

“That’s fair. I’m sorry. I didn’t really listen to a lot of the stuff you told me back at the start, but that was… important.”

Mark can’t help himself. “Mysterious and important?”

She’s trying to look serious but she can’t stop herself snorting a laugh, and he feels a little flush of triumph.

“Yeah, Mark, your ass is mysterious and important.” Then Helly collects herself. “I don't want to do something to hurt you. Or… upset you, I guess. And if that’s what you want then you should have told me.”

“I don’t want you to hurt me. But I’m always going to remember what happened to me, and I just…” He’s trying to find the right words, but then he remembers hers instead. “I want a better memory? If that’s ok with you.”

He raises his eyebrows, tries a smile. Helly grins back at him, and Mark feels his flagging erection begin to get a new lease of life.

“You want a new memory?” she purrs. “I’d better make it a really good one.”

Mark has to close his eyes against the spasm of arousal that grabs him by the crotch as Helly kisses him. Her mouth is hot, and the predatory way she’s leaning into him is hot, and the excitement in his belly coils hot and heavy.

She grabs another palmful of the lotion and slides her finger brazenly between his ass cheeks, up to wrap around his cock and give him a few pumps, then down to graze across his hole once more before she moves back to his cock, back and forth. It’s… it’s really good. He lets the pressure of Helly’s other hand bracing against his chest ease him back into the couch. His muscles relax and he gives a groan of appreciation, lets his eyes drift shut to better concentrate on the feeling.

“Look at me, Mark.”

His eyes snap open at her commanding tone and she holds his gaze as she slips her finger into him, and Mark snatches a breath that isn’t quite there.

It’s hot and full, and probably more weird than enjoyable, at least in terms of the actual finger. But just the fact that it’s happening is sexy, letting Helly inside of him. His skin feels sensitive and shivery with goosebumps, his nipples are suddenly stupidly hard.

“You ok?”

“…hn.” Mark manages to nod. With a little frown of concentration, Helly leans into him and presses deeper, until her knuckles are flush with his skin, hard and blunt; then draws back slowly, dragging a whimper from his throat as she goes.

“This is hot,” Helly murmurs. “I can’t believe you thought of it before I did.”

“Guess I’ve got hidden depths,” he croaks.

“Not anymore,” and with that she pushes back in, harder than before, and Mark’s eyes go wide. She’s exploring now, moving her finger around inside him with a shifting pressure that makes his heart race and his cock leap.

“More?”

“Fuck yes…”

She’s sliding in and out of him, while Mark lays back with a grin on his face. There’s a spot inside him that she keeps grazing that makes him shudder with a deep, sharp pleasure that feels partly like an electric shock and partly like he’s going to piss himself, and wholly amazing.

“Just there,” he pleads, “just there, just there…”

Mark wants more, deeper, never ending. He tries to get his legs further apart, groans at the way his pants frustrate his efforts. Helly sees what he’s trying to do and draws back to help pull them down to his ankles. Mark toes his shoes off and kicks one leg free, sprawling back against the couch. Helly pushes his knee up to give herself easier access. Mark’s cock is aching and he grabs himself, utterly debauched, jerking off with Helly watching. His nipples poke stiff through his shirt and his ass feels weirdly empty, desperate for her to take him again.

Helly’s eyes are dark and solemn.

“You look so beautiful like that,” she murmurs, and she leans in again to kiss him.

Two fingers hurts a little, but he’s stubborn and determined to take it; sweating and moaning through his teeth. It’s deeper like this, the angle better. She finds that sweet spot again and it knocks the breath out of him. Mark’s vision whites out, and he makes a sound he didn’t realise he could make. His cock leaps, and a trickle of clear liquid spills out across his belly. Helly settles into a rhythm, hard and steady, making his cock leak a little more with every brush against his prostate and then ohgodohfuckohhelp she’s spreading her fingers so she can get a third one in and the stretch of it burns, and he’s so full. And when she starts to move there’s no more Mark S, not really, there’s just Helly and the warmth of her body on top of him, the ecstasy of what she’s doing to him, the white noise of his pulse in his ears.

“Am I doing good?” she asks him, her voice coming from a long way away. “Am I fucking you better than Milchick did?”

It cuts through the static like a punch to his gut, a jolt of arousal so intense it’s almost painful.

“Say that again… please, Helly.”

“That I’m fucking you?”

“Ynnnnh… yeah, that.”

“I’m fucking you, Mark.”

“Oh god…”

“I’m fucking you and you’re loving it.”

Mark laughs, although it’s verging on a sob. He clenches his fists into the sides of the couch and grits his teeth. He can feel himself trembling, and Helly’s got the fingers of her other hand twined in his hair now, tugging hard enough that his eyes water and his scalp burns. His breath whines as he drags it into his lungs. He’s so vulnerable, hollowed out, caught between the pain and the pleasure the way he’s caught between Lumon and his outie and Helly, and fuck but he loves her so much…

Mark lets out a wordless, helpless sound, and realises that he’s going to cry. Helly immediately stills, and she changes from pulling to petting through his hair.

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Don’t stop… I just wish… wish we could be together like this all the time. Not with your fingers up my ass.” He laugh shakily. “But just not having to be scared of everything all the time…”

“Mark…” she leans in and kisses him, her fingers inside him barely moving, just little pulses of pleasure. “I know. I know.” She sighs, and he can hear the frustration of not being able to do more, to be more, to get them out of there; he feels it every day. Her eyes are warm and dark, deep pools he wants to drown in as she shifts a little to murmur in his ear. “Do you need to come?”

That does sound really, really good. He swallows and nods, desperately. Helly adjusts her position so she can stay inside him; reaches and guides him to wrap his fingers around his cock. He’s stroking himself with her hand resting on his, setting the pace in time with the way she’s thrusting with her fingers, like that, like that…

Every nerve ending in his body is screaming for release, but he’s caught; if he moves forward he’s fucking into his hand and if he pulls back he’s impaling himself deeper on her fingers. Helly encompasses his entire world and he surrenders to her blissfully, it’s so agonisingly good. “Let me watch you come,” she says; and Mark arches as pleasure floods through him, overwhelming, drowning him. He can feel his eyes rolling back in his skull and he’s shaking, joyful incoherent syllables spilling from his lips as he clenches around her and spills across his belly, her hands and wrists.

He sobs in sheer relief, big lung-cracking gulps of air, and Helly holds him until he’s calm. Mark feels a bone deep contentment, his muscles warm and achy. With his head pleasantly empty, he can focus on the afterglow, until other sensations eventually begin to intrude.

“My outie’s gonna wonder why he’s walking funny,” he says after a while.

“It hurt?”

“No, it just feels… weird.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” Helly washes her hands at the sink, then brings him a handful of paper towels. While he cleans himself she pushes another couch over so they can lie next to each other. Mark tears off a scrap of fruit leather and places it between her lips, and they eat that; then they play a game of trying to throw sunflower seeds and catch them in each other's mouths.

“My outie’s going to wonder why she’s so wet,” Helly says conversationally after a while.

“Seriously?”

“Mark. You have no idea how much fun that was.”

“I guess I’ll find out next.”

“Yeah.” She sighs with satisfaction. “She’s not gonna be able to sit down for a week.”

Mark brushes hair back from her forehead so he can look her in the eyes. “I don’t care about how they feel. Only us.”

“I guess…”

He can still see that little spark of malice in her eyes, but then she wouldn’t be Helly without it.

“And I’m not gonna do it so it hurts you.”

“I know.” Helly smiles this time. “I trust you.” Mark’s heart does a soft flip at the warmth in her voice. The way he feels for Helly, the way she feels for him… Lumon tried to take away that trust, but they decided together that it was theirs and theirs alone. He brushes his lips to her eyelids, her mouth, trails his fingers down her arm. It’s sweet and perfect lying beside her, and Mark wishes they could fall asleep.

“I’m kind of cold, though,” he says after a while. He gets to his feet, and Helly looks for his shoes, wiggling her ass at him a little while he turns his pant leg the right way out and pulls them back on.

“Walk me back to MDR?” Helly offers him her arm.

“I’m all yours.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

If Helly was attracted to Mark before, then the kind of want she’s feeling now needs a whole new word for it. The pleasant glow in her cheeks and chest now burns. Where once she would have given a fond half-smile at the thought of him, she now can’t stop grinning. The fluttering in her stomach has become a secret hunger and a slickness between her thighs.

And everything feels sharper and sweeter because of the anticipation. She’s explored Mark, made him laugh and cry and come apart on her fingers, and in return, according to their mutual agreement, he gets to take her ass. And to do that, they’ll need more time and space than for their usual dates. So by an unspoken agreement they haven’t touched each other since.

There’s no concrete reason behind it. Helly estimates that if she wanted to, she could have Mark inside her in about three minutes flat. But the build up is winding her deliciously tight, and judging by the way Mark flushes and stammers when he meets her eyes he’s feeling the same way.

Helly can’t pretend she’s not a little nervous. Mark is big, and from what she’s gleaned by exploring herself with a curious finger, she’s pretty small. But the only pressure she’s feeling is coming from herself. This is a dare, and she can’t stand the thought of backing down and giving him bragging rights. She’s inherently sure that Mark himself would drop the idea in an instant if she expressed any reservations at all. No complaining, no anger, no disappointment - well, she hopes he’d be at least a little disappointed. One of the most exciting things of all is that her ass is apparently so nice it makes sweet clean-cut Mark S get all hot and bothered at the thought of fucking it. She knows instinctively that it’s taboo, a piece of knowledge that carried over from outies to innies like privacy and manners and the concept of personal space.

And she drives Mark crazy to the point where he’s willing to ignore all of that, to have her every way he can. A way he’s not had her outie, which is another part of it, one she wouldn’t admit to him. She knows he’s entirely unwilling to hurt her, and she trusts him implicitly. But all the same she hopes it hurts Helena afterwards, just a little. Let her feel the way Helly felt when she found out what had been done to her.

Eventually a day arrives when Mr Milchick tells them Ms Huang is being left in charge. They wait until the sounds of what they assume is theremin practice come streaming from the direction of the floor managers office. Then Mark gets to his feet with a cough and says something about the hand lotion in the bathroom needing refilling.

It’s far too fast and the words are all kind of stuck together. Helly meets Dylan’s eyes, and for a moment a mutual look of “that guy?” flashes between them. Then Helly nods and smiles wryly, and Dylan rolls his eyes with a kind of sideways affection.

“You know what’s kind of weird?” he says. “I didn’t even realise we had a lotion dispenser.”

“It was, uh. Petey was trying to get one for ages,” Mark replies, clearly improvising. “You know how he was about his hands.”

Dylan gives a begrudging nod, like it was common knowledge.

“It’s pretty convenient though,” he muses. “Helly R. shows up, and all of a sudden we’ve got lu…otion.”

The lights reflecting in the lenses of his glasses mean that Helly can’t see his eyes. Helly’s sure he does it on purpose.

“Ok,” he sighs eventually. “But once you’re done make sure you swing by the vending machine. Get the jerky. My outie lifts, he needs the protein.”

“Thanks, Dylan!” Helly barely has time to blow him a kiss before Mark’s practically dragging her out of the office.

As soon as the break room door slams behind them Mark’s kissing her, one hand following her hip as the other cradles her head, tenderly drawing her close. The press of his lips is full and good, his tongue touching against hers ever so lightly until she moans, lips parting, allowing him to deepen the kiss. When they break apart he’s smiling so sweetly, big brown eyes gazing into hers. His hands rest in the curves of her waist, protective and just a little possessive, she thinks. Just the right amount.

“Are we still good?” He searches her expression, nothing but sincere even though she can feel exactly how eager he is against her thigh. “I mean, I brought the lotion, but we don’t have to use it, we can just - anything.” His kiss is light and breathy, and he rests his forehead against hers. “I missed you so much. I’ve been going crazy not touching you. Every time you go up to get coffee I have to force myself not to look…”

“Bet you still did, though,” Helly smirks. She’d been putting a little extra wiggle in her step on purpose.

“Yeah.” Mark looks down and grins. Yeah, I did.” His hands cup her face, tilting her up so he can claim her again. His kiss is more forceful this time, hot and a little wet. Helly doesn’t mind; she likes when she can feel him start to lose control.

“I was wondering… would you wanna get naked for this? It just feels really intimate, what we’re doing. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m just here for… for the one thing, you know?” He’s blushing a little.

Helly is so tempted. She’s still never seen either herself or Mark naked. And she craves Mark’s skin against hers. Every time they touch, even just a brush of fingers against fingers, it feels like coming home to a place she hadn’t realised she was missing. She can’t imagine what it would be like to press the entire length of her body against his and just be held.

But they’re on such thin ice as it is. Inching their way towards the apocalypse, when Mark finally finishes Cold Harbor like he’s apparently destined to do. It’s an agonising tension, trying to make their remaining time together as sweet as possible, without doing anything that might cut it even shorter. So if that means that all they get is Mark’s pants round his ankles and Helly’s skirt up round her waist, then they’ll take it.

She hops onto one of the couches and smiles up
at him through her lashes.

“I’m just here for this.” She strokes his length through the front of his slacks, pleased and aroused and a little taken aback as always at how part of his anatomy can suddenly change like that, because of her.

“Oh, good.” He tries to make his voice sultry like hers, and they end up giggling, holding each other close with her legs wrapped round his waist.

Helly kicks her shoes off, and Mark gets to his knees in front of her, peels her pantyhose down her legs. He strokes her calves, the soft flesh off her inner thighs; moans softly as his fingers brush against her panties, tracing her folds through the wet clinging fabric. He lunges up to kiss her again, more forcefully this time, with his hands in her hair. Helly runs her fingers down his spine, presses her hands against his back to feel the heat of his muscles shifting under his shirt.

She untucks her sweater, inviting his touch, and Mark doesn’t hesitate. His hands are sliding up her belly, warm and sure, slipping underneath her brassiere so he can cup her. Her breasts fit perfectly, it feels like he was made for her, his hands so large against her body it makes her feel secure and held as well as horny as hell.

While he’s enjoying her breasts, Helly lets her hands wander lower, releasing his belt buckle and tugging his pants down his hips. The front of his briefs is already showing a wet spot, and Helly feels a little surge of power as she gives him a squeeze.

His cock bobs eagerly as she pulls him free, straining towards her stiff and flushed. Helly strokes him how she knows he likes to be stroked, smooth and gliding with a little pinch at the tip. Cups his balls, feeling their weight of them, the curiously cool skin, before sliding her grip back up to where he’s flushed and wet and sensitive.

Mark giggles, suddenly a little breathless, and steps back out of her grasp.

“Don’t - I - it’s been a little while.” Helly grins. He’d been satisfied with Kier and the numbers for two years until she came along, and now he can barely last two weeks without her. Mark grins back at her, but with a little worry in the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “You still want to do this, right?”

“Definitely.” Helly nods. “Ready when you are, boss.”

It’s gratifying to see his cock twitch.

Mark trails his way back down her body, kissing her hair, her lips, her throat. Brushing across the sliver of bare skin at her belly, then getting to his knees before her. Helly braces her hands against the edge of the couch so she can arch up, lets him push her skirt up and pull her panties down. He presses her legs apart and settles between them, so close she can feel his breath stirring her curls.

“Oh my god you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. He breathes deeply, and she knows he’s smelling exactly how excited she is. She can feel the arousal leaking out of her, knows he’s watching and stroking himself and leaking too.

“Mark-!” She moans impatiently, and jerks her hips up toward him.

Because Mark is incredible at this. His tongue teases over and through her, parting her folds until she feels utterly open to him for the taking, with nothing to hide and nothing she would ever want to. Then he pushes inside her, smaller and softer but somehow much more insistent than with his cock, cracking her open and sucking the marrow from her bones. All the while he’s making a low sound, half humming half groaning, and the vibration through her sensitive flesh makes her crazy. She grabs his hair as much to ground herself as to press him ever closed, and the sound deepens to a growl. He loves it.

He replaces his tongue with his fingers and wraps his lips around her clitoris instead, sucking gently until she’s right in his mouth and then setting up a steady teasing pressure with his tongue. He crooks his fingers gently and Helly almost wails. He’s so good at making her come apart like this, and unlike when he’s fucking her he can do it for what feels like hours, until she can’t talk or walk or even think, and his hair is bloody at the roots.

Mark’s fingers slide out of her and trail lower, slipping in between her cheeks. He strokes her very lightly, as though he’s getting the lay of the land, then withdraws. He grabs her ass and tilts her forward, spreading her apart, and Helly feels splayed out and vulnerable. His eyes are large and dark, his gaze heavy with lust.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, and Helly can’t speak, but she nods desperately.

Mark leans in and presses his tongue against her opening. It’s way more sensitive than she’d expected, shocking and kind of dirty but also really, really nice and Helly almost jumps off the couch.

“What? Was that - was that ok? D’you want me to stop?”

Affection and frustration, she loves Mark and she likes him, but she really needs him to just get on with it sometimes.

“No! It was feeling really good.”

“You just, uh, squeaked, so I thought…”

“I did not squeak!”

“You kind of did.”

“I did not squeak, Mark.”

“Ok, but you made a hot cute noise and I’d really like to hear it again…”

“Well go on then.” She fixes him with a challenging stare and tilts her hips a little for emphasis.

“Well, I will.”

Mark explores her until she’s drenched, his fingers gliding across her asshole as easily as they do her cunt. Then she feels something else, greasier and colder, and she realises he’s smoothing the hand lotion into her crevice. Pressing and pressing, gently but firmly, teasing her rim with his tongue as she writhes and moans, and then with a sudden give his whole finger’s inside her.

It’s a sharp, burning, aching sensation, but a fierce kind of pleasure too, and when Mark wraps his lips around her clit her vision almost whites out with how good it feels. He’s fingering her open with spit and lube and her own secretions, and it's filthy but incredible. When he works another finger in and starts to spread her gently apart the stretch sends harsh electric pleasure arcing up her spine. She’s flushed and breathless and her breasts ache with it, so much so that she can’t resist squeezing and pinching at herself through her sweater, wishing all over again that she was naked.

“Yeah,” Mark groans, his voice hoarse as he murmurs. “Touch your breasts for me. God, Helly, you’re so pretty, I can’t - “

He pushes a third finger inside her with a soft grunt of triumph, and Helly feels something inside her slacken, not so much a loss of resistance as a loss of the ability to resist. She’s his now, and every time she rolls her hips forward to fuck herself into his mouth she ends up taking his fingers deeper.

Mark pulls out of her and she lets herself go limp on the table as she tries to catch her breath and her thoughts. She feels empty, wide open and yearning for him to fill her. There’s an obscene slicking sound, and she realises he’s rubbing the lotion on his cock; getting himself ready for her.

His eyes are lidded and his cheeks flushed, his hair falling in his eyes. “Put your knees up,” he murmurs, rising to his feet and pushing her knees back into her chest.

“Oh fuck, Mark.” Helly gasps as she feels the hard blunt pressure of him, the sudden sharp burn as her body gives way and he’s inside her. Mark lets out a wordless cry, head thrown back and face contorted; for all the world as if he were the one being skewered alive, she thinks irritably. He rocks into her with tiny, gentle motions, a little deeper each time. His cock feels huge inside her, hard and achy and unyielding, and it would hurt if it weren’t so amazing. She needs him and he’s there.

“Im yours,” Mark breathes. “Fuck, you’ve taken all of me.” His eyes shine with pure joy. “I’m all yours, Helly…”

They both look down to where their bodies are joined. Helly’s utterly overwhelmed by the fullness of him inside her. Her nipples ache, and she swears she can feel her pulse in her fucking clitoris. It’s impossible to think of anything else, and then Mark starts to move inside her, short sharp stabs of pure pleasure that she can feel in her whole belly. He’s got one hand on her knee and the other on her hip, holding her in position for him to rut into, and it’s driving her crazy to be wound so tight and full of need. Desperate, she slips her fingers down between them and brushes across her clit, swollen and tender and fuck! She clenches tight around him, the pressure and the angle something she’s never felt before. There’s a hot sweet sensation that's almost like pain, and a small jet of warm liquid bursts out of her.

Mark shudders at the sensation and starts to come inside her with a low helpless moan, but her orgasm is so intense she pushes him out of her as she clenches. He finishes across her belly and her thighs, their fluids mingling. His semen is bright white against her curls.

Helly sags back against the couch, feeling loose and boneless. Overwhelmed and aching and utterly, utterly satisfied. Mark slides out of her with a groan. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her belly. His breath is warm and his hair feels silky against her skin, as she pets him gently, soothing him. His heart must be pounding just like hers. Being with Mark is everything that Lumon isn’t; colourful and exhilarating, dirty and so sweet. She loves him.

“I’m sorry about your pants,” she says after a while.

“S’okay. I’ll just spill some coffee.” Coffee is their go-to for when they accidentally stain their clothes, concealing smells as well as spots. She wonders how many other innies had used the same method over the years. They can’t be the first to fall in love.

Mark raises his head to look at her. “Was that… did you pee yourself?”

Helly considers the question. It didn’t feel quite the same.

“Maybe? But in a good way.”

Mark relaxes under her touch.

“So long as it was good.”

“It was really good.”

Mark deliberately doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Can you do me next time?”

Chapter Text

Mark kneels heavily on the rug. Booze and brain surgery and just the fact he’s nearly fifty have left him a lot less limber than he used to be. His gaze falls upon the bedside table, usually stacked high with journals and books he wants to catch up on, along with his reading glasses (fifty). But now the surface has been cleared, and there’s just a box of tissues, a bottle of high-end electrolyte water that cost more than he’d sometimes spend on whiskey when things were really bad, and a tube of lubricant. And lube really is amazing, Mark thinks.

It’s a very Mark S thought; he catches himself having them sometimes. Simple delight at things he really ought to be back to taking for granted by now, like ice cream and driving and also, it turns out, fucking lubricant. It always makes him cringe inside on his own behalf, embarrassed but also a little wistful, like seeing a childhood photo with a box on his head pretending to be an astronaut.

It keeps happening, even once the reintegration process was apparently over. He doesn’t know why the voice in his head is sometimes Mark S and sometimes the miserable, cynical piece of shit he’d been for two years; and why the him he thinks of as him is someone else again. He’d expected them all to merge into one by now. Helena sat down with him one time with her watercolours and tried to show him.

“I’m like this now,” she’d said, blending a rich shade of purple, with only a hint of the original colours peeking through at the edges. “And this is you.” A red line and a blue line, running parallel. Sometimes twining round each other, crossing back and forth, but never fully coming together. Mark had to agree. He doesn’t know why it’s happened this way; maybe because they’d once seen and spoken to each other as two separate men. The membrane that splits his consciousness is permeable, but it’s still there and maybe it always will be.

He’d reintegrated as part of the legal proceedings; they’d needed testimony from all the innies but above all from Mark S, and Lumon had refused to have a severance field installed in the courtroom. Their lawyers claimed it would be a breach of their 5th amendment rights to provide the technology that might incriminate them. Enter Asal Reghabi, who in exchange for total immunity from prosecution had agreed to oversee the reintegration process of any of the severed witnesses who were willing.

And that had been the last straw for Gemma. The fact he was willing to embrace the part of himself that had turned his back on her and run back into the depths of hell to be with Helena Eagan. It didn’t matter how much he argued that he wanted to bring Lumon to justice, for what they’d done to him but above all for what they’d done to her. She’d accused him of only doing it for Helena. And Mark himself has never quite dared to ask Helena whether the order to refuse to install the field emitters had come directly from her.

Mark feels the pressure in his head, misery churning in his gut as he remembers. He’s thinking too much, it’s why he needs this; but she’s keeping him waiting with sadistic mischief, or mischievous sadism, either way it’s all her. His knees are sore and he’s also a little cold. He’s almost tempted to call out to her, but she’d never let him hear the last of it.

Just as he’s about to call out anyway, there’s a soft click of the door and she steps into the room.

Her long pale legs draw his eye upwards, across the planes of her belly and the graceful arches of her ribs to her small round breasts. Her frame is delicate but her stance is fierce, like a bird of prey. Mark is instantly hard, stiff and eager; a welcome legacy of the days Mark S had spent in the innocent horny haze of a teenage boy is the fact that he still finds himself ready to go at a moment’s notice. His mouth twists, shy and proud and full of love as he meets her gaze.

“So, you like it?”

Helena’s eyes are large and soft, searching his face for a response. She’s got that smile, equal parts anxiety and anticipation, aware of how vulnerable she is but trusting him anyway.

“So beautiful.” He can feel his voice crack, husky with desire as he takes in the sight of her. The dark red leather harness is slim and supple like her, spanning her sharp hipbones and encircling her thighs, framing the patch of soft copper curls where it’s fixed to her pelvis.

Three weekends ago they’d been house sitting for Devon and Ricken. Mark had opened a wrong cupboard, a very wrong cupboard. He could’ve just closed it again and then gone and washed his eyes out with bleach, but his choked cry of dismay had drawn Helena’s attention, and he’d ended up learning more about his sister’s sex life than he’d ever wanted to know. Ricken apparently wanted to be penetrated by some sort of alien, or maybe an exceptionally well endowed octopus, and good lord the thing with the eggs…

… and he’s thinking too much, again, there’s too much of him inside his head and he needs this. A pleading sigh escapes him, only partly relieving the pressure in his chest. Helena’s smile broadens to a grin.

“Why don't you warm it up for me?”

The cock she’s chosen isn’t anatomically realistic, but it’s human sized (a little smaller than his, he thinks), broad at the base, tapering then flaring in a smooth curve that’s quite aesthetically pleasing. It also appears to be made of glass.

“This isn’t gonna break off in me, right?”

“It’s tempered, Mark.” There’s the slightest hint of impatience in her voice, and he grins.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who’s gonna have to explain it to the doctor, cause I probably won’t be in a position to talk.”

“I’d just drop you on the sidewalk outside the ER.”

“Like the crime boss you are...”

Mark smirks up at her and brings his lips in to kiss the tip. Then holding her eyes with his he leans in, hollowing his cheeks as he slides the smooth clear shaft into his mouth.

He’s not entirely inexperienced. There was the time with his college roommate, where they’d both pretended afterwards that they were too drunk to remember what had happened. But he’d not been such a bad drunk back then, not in college; and he remembers everything. And of course he knows what he likes for himself, too; so he takes her until he can feel the hard intrusive pressure at the back of his throat, then seals his lips and drags slowly backward. Opens wide and shows Helena the heavy crystal cock resting on his tongue.

A soft, breathy “oh,” and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her cheeks are flushed, and this close he can smell her sex, shit, she must be so wet…

Mark’s jaw aches a little, and the drool is starting to collect at the corners of his mouth where he’s not letting himself swallow. His nipples are taut, his cock sensitive and swollen. His cheeks feel warm, and he can start to feel the lovely white noise creeping into the edges of his mind.

“You look really good like that,” Helena smiles, and blushes, turning her face away.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

Her expression shifts, focussing; forcing through her self consciousness to take what they both want.

“… I’m going to fuck you now,” she says with a nod and the little line of determination that always appears between her eyebrows, and he loves her.

Sudden, delirious anticipation skitters down his spine, adding to the sweet ache in his belly and his balls. His throat and chest feel hot now too, his pulse rushing in his ears. Helena pulls out of his mouth and reaches for the tube on the bedside table. She squeezes some into her finger with a sudden squelching sound that makes him cringe again as he turns round awkwardly, on his hands and knees for her with his ass in the air, and he’s out of the moment until he feels her finger, brushing across his hole, shockingly cold against the heat of his body. She strokes back and forth, sometimes circling it sometimes pressing lightly, and he’s laughing cause it kind of tickles sometimes but mostly he’s keening through his teeth, he wants it he wants it he -

And fuck it, maybe lube is actually the greatest invention known to man, because he feels himself stretch and yield and then he’s full and hot with her finger all the way inside him, resting lightly against his prostate in a way that’s going to make him crazy if it goes on much longer.

“Is this the spot?” She teases him, just barely pressing with her finger. She knows damn well it is. Her innie did it to his innie and they’d both damn near jumped out of their skin at the intensity of it; only Mark’s got a load of personal hang ups and cultural connotations that Mark S hadn’t had to deal with, hang ups that leave his eyes wet and his mouth dry, ashamed of how much he likes it.

“Yeah - just there,” he chokes out. “Please.” He can actually feel a big bead of precum welling out of him, oozing down his shaft to his thigh as he begs. She fingers him with a slow steady rhythm, pressure and release all through him like a pulse. Electricity unfurls from the tight knot of nerves and spreads tendrils through his body until he’s so sensitive his skin’s crawling. Mark groans and whines between his teeth, shivering, wanting it. A second finger, and the want spills out of him in an inarticulate cry.

“I’m ready now,” he forces himself to form words. “I’m ready; do it now.”

“You’re sure?” She scissors her fingers and Mark sees stars.

“C’mon Helly. You know you want it just as bad.”

The use of the name has the desired effect, and he knows she knows he’s doing it on purpose, but it works anyway. Reminding her that she’s not being judged and found wanting, that she can be who she always meant to be. Her throaty laugh is glorious; as delighted as it is dirty.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

More lube, miraculous and abundant; slippery across his sensitive skin. He hears the squishing, slicking sound that means she’s coating herself in it too. Feels the pressure against his hole, pushing and stretching and forcing her way in; and Mark gives a great hollow groan, his eyes watering, able to think of nothing except the overwhelming fullness as she seats herself within him. It’s hard and unyielding, cold even though his body’s hot, and he has to remind himself to breathe. His skin burns, nerve endings screaming out no and yes and please. Helena plants a soothing kiss between his shoulder blades, and the soft brush of her waves of hair across his back is almost unbearable

Then she starts to move inside him, with her hands braced against his hips. This isn’t something they’ve done before, he realises she must be copying what she feels him do when he’s inside her, and it prompts a throb of narcissistic pleasure in his belly. It does hurt, but he can take it; he’s good at taking it. He’ll take anything for Helena, like he couldn’t for Gemma, couldn’t take that burden from her and she wouldn’t fucking put it down…

Fuck off, basement dweller.

Mark draws in a deep sobbing breath and forces himself to concentrate only on what’s happening to his body. He lets his head hang limp, his face hot, his cock heavy and aching with pooled blood. Every thick stabbing thrust is a punch of pleasure-pain deep in his gut, and it makes the rushing in his ears and the numbness in his mind more intense until he can’t think of anything except how deep she is inside him and it’s bliss.

“Mark, look at the sky!” Helly cries out joyfully. Mark keeps his gaze on the ground. He’s seen it before; all of him has, now. But the way she grabs a handful of his hair and pulls, angling his head until he’s got no choice, is pure Helena. Snow falls from a navy blue sky, tapping lightly against their window; stars spill across the sky like sparks from a campfire. Mark trembles; his scalp is sensitive right where she’s holding him. The hole in his skull might remodel but it’ll never really close, and it feels like Helena could plunge her finger right into the core of him at any moment. He trusts her though. She can tear him full of holes; she’ll always put him back together again when it’s done.

Helena wraps her other hand around his cock and closes the fucked up circuit of pleasure and pain that he’s apparently wired with. He comes embarrassingly fast, clenching around the glass dick inside him so hard it hurts as ecstatic relief floods his body and his seed spurts thick and white across her knuckles and her wrist.

Helena pulls out of him and he curls onto his side, making a sound that’s like laughing and crying but not quite either. He hears a faint clink as she shuffles out of her harness and tosses it aside, and then she’s holding him.

“Are you ok, Mark? Was that good?”

“So fucking good,” he croaks. “Came so hard…”

“You watching?”

Helena takes two fingers and scoops the come from where it’s clinging to her skin, making him shudder and moan in protest as she collects the last few drops from his oversensitive shaft. Then she spreads her legs and slides it deep inside her. He can hear how fucking wet she is, oh god, and she starts slicking her fingers between her folds, playing with herself with him watching and his dick’s aching with how hot it is, wishing he could get hard again but even Mark S couldn’t manage that. So he simply watches wide eyed as Helena’s movements grow more urgent, circling her clitoris as she bites her lip against the high desperate sounds she’s making and squeezes her eyes tight shut.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Come for me, good girl…”

Helena’s head sinks back, her throat flushes a gorgeous shade of pink and she comes in his arms with a wordless cry. Mark kisses her through it, cradles where they’re lying. They’ll have to get up in a minute, he thinks, and they’ll get clean and the bed will be soft and warm; but for a moment they both find the hard floor strangely comforting.