Work Text:
The annual university art exhibition is always an important event– not only for the investors and enthusiasts of new up and coming artists, but for the students and professors whose art has been proven to break boundaries and set new precedents. Aspiring new creators are featured each year and are brought to light by the exclusive, invitation only event, and many leave the venue with thousands of dollars lining their pockets and a sense of unparalleled pride in their creative endeavors.
Marius has invited a special guest to come with him this year, and though he's been advised that it's in bad form to entertain a woman at such an elite event, he's never been one to follow the rules...especially not those that threaten to cramp his style.
She, of course, hasn’t been able to take her eyes off him all night. Charming and charismatic, he works the room as if it belonged to him from the very beginning. Women and men alike flock to his attention, almost desperate for an audience with the infamous Marius von Hagen. He’s been holding the same glass of expensive champagne for the last hour at least, pretending to take sips of it here and there– a show, to keep up appearances and play the part of the gracious benefactor, to be social and fit in with the elite connoisseurs of art that surround him.
Of course, he’s part of their world in his expensive suit and the designer accessories he’s styled himself with; and when he happens to glance in her direction and offer a mischievous wink (because she might think she’s not being obvious but he sees her and loves to watch her shift her gaze and turn as red as the ribbon in her hair) she’d swear he is wearing eyeliner. He would, and he’d proudly admit to it if asked, bragging about how flawless his application is.
She chats idly among some people she's met, pretending to admire the artwork displayed. She smiles, she laughs, she– unlike Marius– drinks her champagne earnestly, thankful for the delightful effervescent feeling that comes with each crystal flute of bubbly sweetness. Each time Marius drifts from group to group, she gently nudges her own party in kind to keep a comfortable distance, just so she can hear his laughter.
At some point, she excuses herself to the ladies room. Ambient music drifts through the gallery from the baby grand piano in the corner, and there’s a buzzing, electric sort of energy that crackles in the air amid conversations and negotiations. Her companions ask if she needs them to come along, but she shakes her head and refuses, citing the need for some quiet, for a break from the noise.
She’s no sooner halfway down the hall– brightly lit and stark white, minimalist– when she hears footsteps behind her. The confident stride makes her ears perk up and she muffles a giggle behind a trembling hand, then makes a sharp turn down another hall to the right. This one is darker, with classrooms on either side, some with the door still open.
“Slow down,” he says, increasing his pace to catch up with her, just before she ducks inside one of the open classrooms. When his hand curls around her wrist, she inhales sharply– his touch sends her reeling. She closes her eyes and allows him to back her against the wall, lips grazing the warm, soft skin of her neck while he whispers to her. “You wanted me to find you.”
“Maybe I did,” she breathes, eyes closed while she inhales his expensive, irresistible scent. He’s close to her– so close – but far enough away that there’s barely a whisper of space between them, enough to drive her almost completely mad.
“You’ve been drinking.” His lips find the hollow of her throat and his fingers tangle in her hair; meanwhile, her own hands snake around his waist and she gives him a purposeful tug toward her. He holds firm, however, chiding her with a click of his tongue against her skin. “Ah ah...not here.”
She groans; it’s a strangled, thick sound that drips of her disappointment. “Then why did you follow me if you didn’t want to start something?” she complains.
Amethyst eyes shine in the dim light of the hall when he looks at her, and he’s so earnest in his answer that she almost thinks he’s serious for more than half a second. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t need help using the bathroom,” he says, straight-faced. “It’s very possible, you know. Drinking makes you forget all sorts of things.”
There’s a beat of heavy silence before she bursts into giggles, grabbing the lapels of his suit coat and burying her face against his chest. He pats the top of her head with one hand while the other appreciates the swell of her hip beneath the dress he’d picked out, admiring the way the material feels under his touch. When he reaches behind to give her backside a squeeze, she responds with a satisfying smack to his side, then lifts her face to give him the most evil eye she can conjure. He lifts her chin and she raises up on tiptoe, anticipating a kiss. Closing her eyes, she puckers her lips and waits.
After a few seconds, she feels his warm breath on her face. “Need something?” he asks. He’s so close that his lips bump against hers when he speaks, but he withholds the prize she seeks. When she leans forward, he leans back and smiles, wide and teasing.
"Ass," she hisses, and grabs his face to pull him down for an earnest kiss. He grunts– not surprised, but satisfied– and grasps her thighs, lifting her off the ground to press her firm against the wall at her back. She rolls her hips and locks her legs around his waist, and he kisses her deeper when she pulls his hair.
"Control yourself, missy," he says; his voice is hoarse, his cheeks are pink, breath irregular. She's undone him again– she's the only one who's ever been able.
"You started it." Teeth scrape against his earlobe, tongue swirling over his piercings, and he bucks his hips against her. "Should have left me to fend for myself."
"You could have been attacked," he says, mouth traveling down along her jaw, under her chin. "Those fancy soaps in the bathroom are known to kill people."
It's all breath and tongue and lips and hands until someone calls Marius's name from some distance away. They both freeze, eyes locked on each other, the only sound being the frantic gallop of their hearts. Gently, he lowers her to the floor and she slips inside the empty classroom to their right. Marius straightens his jacket, clears his throat, and takes a few steps toward the main hall.
"We've been looking all over for you. We're about to start the bidding for the students' work, and we'd like you to lead."
"Oh, of course! I was just looking for the bathroom," Marius said, turning around to illustrate his false purpose. "It's been so long since I've been here that I must've forgotten."
Once she hears the footsteps fade a safe distance away, she emerges from the classroom and makes her way to the ladies' room, where she fixes her lipstick and covers up a fresh, blossoming love bite. She slips back into the auction and grabs a fresh flute of champagne before joining her friends, but not before catching Marius's eye.
His heart stutters in his chest and he throws her a conspiratorial grin before approaching the podium.
They'll finish what they've started later. Now, he must play the part that is expected of him.