Summary: Meredith/Derek, makeup sex. Written for the porn battle at la_scapigliata
“The last time I got dressed up for a social function at work, I lost my panties,” Meredith muses as she steals a crouton from Derek’s salad.
“I remember,” he says, giving her a look that almost makes her choke on the toasted bread. He smiles in fond remembrance and doesn’t object when she reaches over to stab at a piece of chicken from the salad with her fork.
“I know these things are a drag,” he continues. He offers her some of the leafy green lettuce, but she declines, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “But as a department head, I’m stuck attending, and as my live-in girlfriend…”
Meredith laughs and shakes her head. “Ah, but technically, you’re my live-in boyfriend.”
“I am,” he agrees with a warm smile. “Regardless, we live together. We’re each other’s default dates now.”
“How romantic,” Meredith says dryly.
“You’re going to leave me stuck at this thing with a bunch of suits?”
“Donors,” Meredith corrects him.
“Suits,” Derek insists. “Dull, rich old men who are more interested in their legacy than the work we actually do – more interested in seeing their name on a building than the lives that we save in it.”
“Careful, Derek,” Meredith warns him. “You’re starting to sound like Ellis Grey.”
Derek chuckles. “So finally, there’s something your mother would have respected in me.”
“That makes one of us, at least,” Meredith tells him. Her tone is light and teasing, though, and she smiles and plucks another crouton from his salad.
She snorts. “Seriously? You’re whining?”
“If I have to.”
“You don’t.” She sighs. “I’ll be your date.”
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. He finishes the salad and pushes the container aside.
“What are you going to wear?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know yet. Why? Do you want to coordinate with me, or are you buying me a corsage?”
“Are you done mocking me?”
Her eyes twinkle, but she nods. “Yes.”
“I was just wondering if you’d be wearing black panties again,” he says in a low voice that sends shivers down her spine.
Meredith’s pager beeps and she glances down at it and then stands. “I have to go.”
Derek nods and leans across the table to kiss her goodbye.
“The answer to your question is,” she says against his lips, then pauses for dramatic effect. “If you play your cards right, maybe I won’t wear any…”
She pulls away, smirking at the expression on his face and the groan that falls from his lips.
He’s impatient on the night of the donor banquet, pacing the room while she gets ready. Meredith thinks that it was too easy for him – he came home, showered, shaved and threw on the Hugo Boss suit that she’d picked up from the cleaners on the way home, and he looks like he stepped out of the pages of freaking GQ. It would irritate her if he didn’t look and smell so damn good that she’s having a hard time concentrating on applying her eye makeup with a steady hand.
“Meredith,” he groans, coming up behind her. “We’re going to be late.”
“Patience is a virtue.”
He shakes his head and returns to the bedroom, but she can hear him sigh in frustration every few minutes. Her annoyance grows and she takes pains to drag out her preparations as payback. She’s doing this as a favor to him, after all – the least he could do is appreciate her effort.
Finally finished, she removes the robe she’s wearing to reveal her dress, a shimmery, dark blue number that matches the color of the shirt beneath Derek’s charcoal grey suit jacket.
He’s lying on his back on the bed; one arm draped over his eyes and she notices that he’s loosened the knot on his tie.
“Derek,” she commands, standing at the foot of the bed and nudging him with her knee.
He opens his eyes and takes in the sight of her. She watches with delight as he swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
Meredith rolls her eyes. “It took me over an hour. I should hope so.”
He shakes his head. “You know, we’re not that late…” he says, trailing off suggestively.
“That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago,” she says. She reaches over to the nightstand, picks up his keys and wallet and dangles the keys in front of him. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get this over with.”
The banquet dinner is being held at a country club and when Meredith and Derek arrive, the guests are already milling about, making small talk. Derek ushers Meredith into banquet room, his hand on the small of her back and they spend the next forty-five minutes engaged in various conversations before the cocktail hour ends and they find their table for dinner.
They’ve been assigned to a table with a group comprised entirely of members of Seattle’s upper echelon and Meredith watches in amazement as Derek navigates with ease, slipping into a role she knows he once inhabited, but has never really seen first hand. On a professional level, she finds him intriguing, but something about his demeanor leaves her cold, and she’s left feeling lost and confused with this new old Derek.
Halfway through dinner, she excuses herself to go to the washroom and Derek barely bats an eyelash. She lingers in the ladies’ room for an extended period of time until she decides that she can’t delay the inevitable any longer and reluctantly returns to their table. She plasters a smile on her face and takes her seat. Again, she gets no reaction from Derek.
Meredith briefly wonders if she’s being petty – after all, he’s just doing his job, in a perverse way. Having grown up as the only child of a medical superstar, Meredith understands that the job description calls for more than just knowledge and accuracy in the O.R. Being a department head demands that Derek turn on the charm enough to pry open the wallets of men like these. And turn on the charm he does, flattering and cajoling until several of the professionals have pledged to donate to the hospital.
It’s only when he brings up their neurological oncology study that she’s drawn back into the conversation.
“It was really Dr. Grey’s idea,” Derek says. She reaches over to squeeze his thigh beneath the table in a gesture of appreciation.
“But without your extensive experience, the study wouldn’t have the success it’s enjoyed,” one of the men at the table says.
“I’m familiar with your work in Manhattan, Dr. Shepherd,” the suit continues. “Don’t be so modest. I’m sure that without your guiding influence we wouldn’t even be discussing this. Pardon me, Dr. Grey.”
Derek doesn’t say a word.
Meredith feels blindsided by how cavalierly this man dismissed her and she waits for Derek to continue objecting. When he simply shrugs, she fumes and takes her hand from his leg.
The thought occurs to her that were she Cristina, she’d have told this man off by now, staunchly defending herself until the man either conceded or slinked away in abject horror. But she’s not Cristina and as much as she wants to put him in his place, she feels too humiliated and insignificant to open her mouth.
Around her, the conversation continues and it’s not until dessert is served and she simply picks at the creation set before her that Derek turns to her with a concerned expression.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over her. Meredith keeps her eyes on her plate, horrified when the glazed berries on the top of the dessert start to shimmer and blur. She blinks and clears her throat.
“I’m fine,” she says under her breath.
Derek frowns and reaches over as she did earlier. His warm hand burns through the thin layer of nylon on her thigh and she bites down on the inside of her lower lip to keep her composure. The only thing she thinks is that Ellis would never cry at a table of colleagues. Like Cristina, Ellis would have told them where to go and how to get there. She takes a deep breath and looks up from the plate.
“The study was my idea,” she says. “Mine. I did the research, I investigated the protocols, I found the patients. I needed an attending to sign off on it, but this study was my baby. Maybe I’m just a second year resident, but I’m not some dumb woman who is going to let a man – any man, even if he’s also her permanent date – take all the credit for something so important. If that means that you won’t support this hospital, then I’m sorry. I’ll take the heat from the chief, I guess. But you’ll be missing the opportunity to get in at the ground level with a program that encourages greatness from everyone on staff. And you won’t have bragging rights when we do extraordinary things. Together.”
The table reacts with silence and Meredith reaches down and pulls Derek’s hand away from her leg, then pushes back her chair and stands. “If you will all excuse me,” she says.
As much as she wants to run, she walks away slowly, with her head held high, until she’s turned the corner from the room. Then she ducks into the bathroom and locks herself in a stall and sucks in lungful after lungful of air, unable to get enough. She’s mostly composed and about to leave when she hears the outer door of the ladies’ room open with a whoosh.
She doesn’t need to hear his voice to know that it’s Derek; she can hear him breathing and can smell the crisp, clean scent of his cologne.
“Meredith,” he murmurs through the door.
She groans in response.
“Open the door, please,” he requests.
She shakes her head and then rolls her eyes at herself, realizing that he can’t see through the metal door.
“Meredith,” he repeats.
Sighing, she pulls the door open and glares at him.
“I don’t want to do this here,” she says, pushing past him to walk over to the sink where she washes her hands with the attention and care she usually reserves for scrubbing in.
She hears him sigh and a moment later, he’s behind her again.
“Well, you opened that can of worms,” he says.
Meredith whirls around to face him, her eyes blazing. “Oh, no!” she says, jabbing her index finger into his chest. “No, you’re not blaming this on me!”
“What?” he asks with a frown.
“You totally left me hanging there. You were going to bask in the glory when the study was my idea, and you know it! I don’t ask for a lot, Derek. I’m proud of you, and I’m happy to give you credit for figuring out the proper protocol and saving Beth’s life, but damn it, this was my baby.”
Derek sighs. “Listen, I know…”
“No,” she interjects, cutting him off. “You don’t. Nobody doubts that you’re capable of this. You don’t have to prove yourself every day. Nobody looks at you and thinks that you’re just a stupid second year resident, but hey, maybe one day you’ll live up to your mother’s legacy. Nobody thinks that you got where you are because you’re sleeping with the head of the department. Nobody questions your abilities, Derek. Not once. Those people, they just assumed that I’m riding your coattails.”
She’s shaking with anger now. She can’t even look at him.
“I don’t need you to defend me, Derek. I can do it on my own. But it would have been nice to know that you’re on my side.”
“I am on your side,” he tells her. He steps in front of her and takes her face in his hands so that she can’t look away. “I am.”
She shakes her head.
“Let me go, Derek.”
“Yes!” she insists. She tries to pull away, but he holds tight.
“We’re going to fight this out,” he says. “If that’s what we need to do.”
“You left me in there.”
She laughs dryly. “You did. Before any of that crap about the study even started, you did.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, his frustration mounting.
“You were… I don’t know, you were Manhattan Derek or something.”
He stares at her like she’s sprouted two heads, and maybe she has. She can’t explain it to him, anyway.
“You were just so focused on charming their pants off, that I feel like you forgot that I was sitting next to you,” she says in a small voice, feeling ashamed of her insecurity.
Derek smiles wryly. “Are you … seriously? Do you think there’s a second that went by when I wasn’t proud to have you next to me?”
“I don’t know.”
He shakes his head and smiles tenderly at her. “Meredith.”
“What?” she whispers.
“You are amazing. You are bright and funny and generous and you make me a better man. I’m so proud of you. And when you left, I told them that. Not that I needed to when you got through with them.”
He chuckles. ‘Yeah.”
“Generally, you wait until they’ve written the cheques before you set them straight,” he says with a soft smile.
Meredith groans again. “Oh, God. The chief is going to kill me.”
“I don’t know about that,” he says. “Our table committed to a significant sum.”
Meredith’s eyes grow wide. “But why?”
“Maybe because they saw somebody willing to stick her neck out there.”
Meredith shakes her head.
“So that stuff you said about me?” she asks.
“You couldn’t have said it with me sitting there, huh?”
“Well, you kind of stormed off. Which was hot, by the way.”
Meredith snorts. “Oh, come on.”
“It was!’ he insists with a laugh. “Seeing you so sure of yourself…” He moves closer to her until she can feel his warm breath on her neck. He dips his head so that his mouth is against her skin. “And for the record?”
Meredith shivers and closes her eyes, waiting for him to continue.
“The only pants I’m interested in charming off are yours.”
“Lucky for you I’m not wearing any,” she murmurs. Derek grunts and pulls away a fraction so that he can read her expression.
“Oh God,” he groans when he sees the challenge in her eyes.
Meredith smirks and backs up until the small of her back meets the edge of the counter.
“We got the money,” he muses. “We could go home…”
Meredith rolls her eyes. “Are you afraid of offending somebody, Derek?”
He kisses her then, leaves her breathless and clinging to him as he lifts her onto the counter and pushes her knees apart impatiently. His mouth leaves hers and ravages her neck, the stubble that’s already appeared since he shaved earlier in the afternoon scraping against the delicate skin covering her clavicle. Meredith shivers and arches against him, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket to force it off of him. Derek kisses her again even as he works to free himself from the confines of his dress pants. Meredith helps him, her fingers unbuttoning and unzipping him.
It’s a task that’s made difficult only because he’s slid his hand up the inside of her leg until he’s reached the top of her stockings. She made a point of purchasing the stay up ones with the lace trim that she knows he loves and he groans as his fingers graze the lace, but then abandon it to continue higher, finding bare skin above the fabric.
Meredith whimpers a little when his fingers slide over her unencumbered folds and Derek pulls his mouth from hers.
“You really didn’t wear any,” he marvels.
Meredith smirks in response, but it falls away when Derek dips a finger inside her. She gasps and he covers her mouth with his again, drowning out her whimpers when a second finger joins the first.
A thought flashes through her mind that anybody could walk in at any time; they’re completely exposed in the open area of the room, with Derek’s pants now pooled around his ankles and Meredith spread before him as he ravages her with his hands and his lips and tongue. But she’s too overwhelmed by the imminent orgasm and so the thought flickers and fades and she bucks against his hand when he swirls his finger just a fraction inside her and flicks the nub of her clit with his thumb. She’s left shivery and nonsensical until the orgasm subsides. After a moment, her focus returns and she gazes at Derek’s face. He looks agonized and she reaches between them to cup his balls in one hand while she strokes the length of his penis a few times with the other. The tip is moist and she rubs the pad of her forefinger over it, collecting some of the semen. Derek grunts and shifts in exquisite pain.
“Somebody might walk in,” she says softly.
“Meredith,” he moans. “I don’t care. I can’t… please. I don’t care who walks in.”
She considers this as she takes in the look of pure torture on his face, and the way his eyes burn into hers.
“Are you close?” she whispers.
“Meredith!” he growls as he tries to get the upper hand by pushing closer to her.
“Okay,” she says and guides him to her. He thrusts so hard that she cries out in surprise, not prepared for such desperation. He pulls out almost entirely and then thrusts into her again, pulling her torso toward his as he kisses her with urgent need. The force and friction leave her breathless and she tightens around him, giving him what he needs. The sensation of Derek filling her triggers a now familiar sensation and she closes her eyes and focuses on his grunts and the few almost indecipherable syllables that she thinks might be her name. The fluttery feeling in her groin grows until she’s pulsing and then she feels him come, spilling inside before he collapses against her, breathing raggedly.
They’re both spent but as soon as they come to their senses, they move quickly to rearrange clothing and clean up. They have just moments to spare because suddenly there are voices from behind the door and it swings open to reveal several members of the business community.
They glance at each other with looks that Meredith can only interpret as dismay and, she suspects, jealousy. It makes her want to laugh, but instead, she tucks her hand into Derek’s and pulls him toward the bathroom door.
“Home?” he asks hopefully.
“Not yet,” she smiles. “I have some more illusions to shatter.”