Work Text:
Nikola had long given up the smile and the overly genial attitude he had adopted just for this evening, not that it seemed to make a difference to the people that ambled towards him, offering him praises with outstretched hands. Normally, he would enjoy the attention being so readily thrown at his work, but tonight it only served to drag out every minute, irritating him further as they forced him to split his attention in two.
He accepted them without gusto, his skin prickling at the touch of their sweaty palms, making him draw back a little too quick.
The reaction was instinctive, but every time it happened, he feared he had broken one of her carefully selected rules and his eyes would dart across the room to where he last had sight of her.
Although, it seemed, his fear was always a little too keen, because for all his careful positioning--his leaning and head-tilting trying to catch her eye, she seemed to have no interest in giving him any attention at all.
In fact, her eyes had yet to fall on him for more then a minute through the entire event, making him feel even more tense and on edge.
“It doesn’t mean she isn’t watching,” he would remind himself more and more, craning his neck as he tracked her movements. He’d learned the hard way too many times. By the end of the night, she would know every wrong word, every wrong move, and it would only encourage her to prolong this horrible little waiting game.
He didn’t entirely regret agreeing to her terms, not that he had it in him to deny her, at the time her foot had been resting in his lap and the soft skin of her thigh beneath his fingers as she talked. There was verry little he could do but nod.
He coughed, taking the smallest sip of champagne, trying his best to listen to the balding middle-aged man who stood before him, he clearly had no idea what he was talking about, but telling him so would of come under ‘don’t be an ass’. He gritted his teeth nodding along and thankfully, he didn’t have to present himself as the amenable host for much more time.
Before it could even hit the ten minute mark, the investor was intercepted by others of his kind, and nikola sagged with relief as they walked away, snatching yet another glass of bubbly from a passing waiter.
A few younger men took it as an opening for them to approach, they were at least a little more engaging but were often lured away by the women hanging on their arms.
The hours that followed played out much the same, and he found it all, so verry irksome.
People would wander up, they would talk, and hover, bestowing him with fake smile’s as they wished him happy birthday, before wandering off and filling their faces from the buffet that the young Swezey had thought to provide.
He let them go, glad for a moments peace.
He didn’t want to be here, surrounded by the money luggers and their incessant need for peacocking, but there was never progress without money.
He had been decent, approachable, had shown interest in their idea’s and even chuckled at their jokes that were devoid of all humour. In his eyes, he had gone beyond what was expected, and now, now it was only fair that he was allowed to leave and reap in the promise of his reward.
The party would eventualy draw to an end and so he waited, just off to the side, trying to catch her eye but she had yet to show any sign of slowing.
He knew she was never going to make it that easy. It was almost unnerving how much she enjoyed making him wait.
From where he stood, he could see the object of his desire, swirling among the throng of puffed-up bureaucrats, the silk of her dress sweeping out in crimson waves as she’s spun. Her hair now set into dark neat waves glided across the smooth expanse of her back, its rich colour a deep contrast against her creamy skin. One last turn of her heel and the waves crested the curve of her neck, gathering up in a beautiful mess upon one shoulder.
Only, as he watched, one lock seemed to escape the tangle, dangling loosely as it unfurled to lay along her spine.
He had watched her tame those waves earlier that day, marvelled at her steady hands as he watched from his place at the foot of the bed. She had coaxed them so gently into submission, the hot iron sliding away before pinning them into place one by one, and the sight of one deserting rank filled him with a delicious sort of excitement.
He swallowed hard, letting the feeling sizzle in his chest.
It was absurd he knew, but he wanted to reach out and capture that lock, to run his fingers down its length before drawing it back to tuck it in with the rest.
It would certainly gain her attention, and he hoped that maybe it would even please her, if he could get his feet to work, but before he even made the choice and convinced himself to take even one step across the polished floor, another beat him too it.
The hand that helps her belongs to a young man, (Nikola has yet to catch his name). He was dressed a little sharper then himself, which rankled him, and if that wasn't enough as he moved the gold of his cuff links actually glinted in the light as one hand rose over her shoulder when he reached for the lock of hair like some fairytale prince.
At least he waited for her permission. When she stretched her neck to allow him space though Nikola almost moaned with despair.
He knew his fingers would graze across her skin, the skin he so desperately wanted to touch, maybe even feel her pulse, and as he leaned in closer to tuck the lock safely away, he knew the sent he longed to be breathing in was surly filling his lungs.
It made Nikola’s blood boil that much hotter, seething now he fought to hold himself back and could only think of holding his own wrist, the grip growing so tight he was sure there will be marks. He shuddered, remembering she wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t dare let go,
But as if Helen could sense his discomfort, her eyes came round to meet his just seconds later and the slight frown she sent him was enough to have him loosen his grip slightly. it didn't ease the storm of emotion though and trembling now he struggled to draw breath. Helen smiled then and what made the tremble worse was there was no way of knowing for sure if that smile was meant for him or for the young man that was now whispering somthing against the curve of her ear.
His hand slid to the small of her back drawing a laugh, but just as suddenly she was pulling away, her fingers lifting from his hip as she eased out of the hold, and left him to looking lost and confused at the sudden change.
Nikola wasn't going to be calm for quite some time but the distance between them did allow him to take a deaper breath. And then that breath stuttered.
now she was turning and crossing the hall in her perfect elegant stride. His eyes went wide as she came towards him, and even trembling as he was his face twitched into a smile and just because he could, because he wouldn't be him if he didn't, he risked a quick glance back at the pompous young lout, sending him a smug little smirk before settling back on Helen’s cool blue eyes.
It didn't cost him anything in the end because she only shook her head a little amused.
Reaching out, she took hold of his wrists, her thumb absently rubbing at the sore points where he held to tight and pulled his hands so that they wraped around her waist effectively closeing the rest of the distance to lay a single soft kiss to the edge of his mouth.
“Are you enjoying your party?” she asked, her breath was warm and sweet against his lips.
It took a moment for the words to sink in, and it was almost impossible to answer, his mind was now struggling to relay to his tongue that it had other uses apart from reminding him what Helen’s tasted like.
After a few seconds of silence, she leaned back to look at him and it encouraged him enough to shake his head, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter.
that made her laugh, and the feeling vibrated through him making his muscles week with need. He wanted so badly to be alone with her, to have the whole day done with so he could fall to his knees and devote so many more meaningful hours to her pleasure.
When he suggests it, his tongue still hasn’t got a handle over the words, and it comes out a garbled mess.
Helen laughed again, bringing one hand up from where she had been stroking at his back to cup his face, he shivers at the touch but as she raises a brow he forces himself to focus breathing a little more deeply.
“You want to leave?” she asks smiling.
He nods.
“Why?” her eyes sparked as she tilted her head at the question.
He knew that look well by now.
“I… please, Helen,” he whimpered his fingers flexing against the soft skin of her back.
She chuckled, shaking her head, and the rebel lock of hair came loose once again, coming to rest delicately across her collarbone.
He envied its courage.
“I suppose, you have been good,” she said, leaning in again to brush her lips along his jaw.
There is a sharp intake of breath, he later realises his own, and his entire body stiffness in her hold.
all he could do was look at her with wide pleading eyes.
“You could…” she says closer to his ear, her other hand brushing upwards so she could stroke her fingers through the fine hair at the base of his neck, “forget… about the party… and kneel for me now.”
He shudderd again, his relief escaping in an loud moan as he turns his head to press a quick grateful kiss to the palm of her hand.
He doesn’t even consider letting go, just turns quickly in the direction of the doors and the freedom of the lobby. He thinks of the beautiful, empty, winding stairs that lead onto their floor, and the space of the room which is entirely just for them.
He makes it exactly one step before gasping at the sharp tug he feels on his hair. He hisses, His head falling back and his spine arching in a silly attempt to relieve the sting. The move presses him more heavily against Helen and he can feel the soft curves of her body beneath the silk of her gown.
She watched him pointedly, and only when he relaxed did she let go, allowing him to turn his chin and look at her properly.
She isn’t angry with him, if anything, the slight narrowing of her eyes and curl of her lips says she is still amused.
“I said, you could kneel for me, Now, Nikola,” she reminded him, her nails scratching lightly along his neck, “I said nothing about leaving.”
“I…,” he panted, unsure of how to work his plea.
“You do want to kneel for me, don’t you?” she asked, still petting.
The groan that left his lips was hardly human. His eyes darted back to the door, then to Helen, and back again, before he let out another, loud enough this time, that a few of the closest guests turned to look at them.
She shushed him gently, moving a little so it looked like they were dancing and stroking his hair, all the while holding that same amused little smile.
“Please, Helen…,” he stammered when he managed to swallow another moan, his eyes again looked back longingly towards the door.
“Please…, you said…, if I…, please…”
She tutted, shaking her head.
“Please,” he tried once more, feeling the shame of it all now begining to colour his cheeks.
It wasn’t like him to beg, Nikola Tesla did not beg. But the day had been so long, and she stood before him so radiant, and lavishly dressed in red, that he could barely think of anything else but falling upon his knees before her.
“if you’re not willing to kneel for me now Nikola…” She patted his cheek, and he sighed, his shoulders falling as he physically deflated against her.
“You delight in torturing me,” he mumbled against her as his head turned into the crook of her neck.
“Such a dramatic birthday boy,” Helen chuckled “need I remind you that this is your party, my love, and you agreed to be present until its very end?”
“It will never end."
“Hardly,” Helen scoffed back, and he had to hold back yet another groan as she gently, but firmly, pushed him away forcing him to turn on his feat to look at her.
“It will end,” she told him coyly, turning away to beckon a waiter forward with yet another tray of bubbly, “and I promise you,” she said lifting the crystal to her lips, “the night will be made that much sweeter for waiting.”
