Chapter Text
Not funny.
It wasn't meant to be.
Nevertheless, point taken.
She turns and holds the elevator door open with one hand, wine glass still gesticulating in the other.
“Would you…” she hesitates, “care to continue this lively discussion?"
He steps towards the doors and places his hand just above hers on its frame… tries to not get ahead of himself. “Discussion?” he teases. “I thought this was the blueprint for future peace negotiations between our two countries.”
Raising her eyebrows, she motions her head in the direction down the hall. He nods his assent, stepping off the elevator as she turns determinedly on her heels.
“Well, if that’s the case,” she quips over her shoulder, “you best leave your presidential jabs at the door.”
“And you, your Soviet scrutiny,” he says.
“I suppose we can consider England neutral territory for tonight,” she deadpans, pulling out her key card, and swiftly opening the door.
“A stand-in for Switzerland,” he replies.
She hums in reply, as she steps into her drawing room, flicking on lights and resting her jacket and bag on table surfaces as she goes.
“Can I get you a refill?” She says, pointing to his glass. “Please,” he replies.
As she turns her back to him to prepare their drinks, he takes the opportunity to revel in the small pieces of Margo he normally wouldn’t get a chance to observe: pairs of heels lined up in the hallway, an open suitcase by the bed, the way her auburn hair softly falls against the back of her neck. Maybe it’s this novel environment he finds himself in or the way she has matched his every point with a counterpoint all night, or maybe it’s just the earlier glasses of wine they shared together at the bar, but something about them here together in this moment emboldens him.
She hands him his glass and, upon seeing him appreciating the decor, states, “I know it lacks the comforts of a NASA engineering room…”
“Or, perhaps, a docking module?” He smiles as he says it, unable to stop the reference from spilling out. A pink flush creeps over her face and the corners of her mouth almost imperceptibly curve upward while her eyes ricochet from him to the floor. He loves seeing her like this. More than that, he loves making her like this. Catching her off guard so she lowers her normally impenetrable defences.
She clears her throat. “Y’know,” her drawl thickening, “given that we met your every ridiculous, nationalistic demand for that mission… the least you could have done is let me have that coin toss” she mumbles the last bit into her wine glass, taking a sip, and still not meeting his eyes.
He chuckles. “I believe you are breaking our pre-established contract.”
“Which is?”
“No Soviet scrutiny,” he states, stepping gingerly into her space.
“Well that was before you started talking about…” she trails off.
“About…?” he hovers in a bit closer.
“The indiscretion we had in the docking module,” she scrunches up her face.
“Ah I see,” he smiles, grabbing her wine glass and placing it down with his on the coffee table. He tentatively reaches for each of her hands, taking them in his.
“I was not aware that we are not to discuss our indiscretions… as you so call them,” he says, softly, just inches away from her, his thumbs drawing circles in her palms.
“Sergei…” his name comes out long and low, her voice half playful, half wary.
“Margo,” he replies, warmly.
Releasing one of her hands, he brings his fingers up to her hair and gently sweeps a piece back from her cheek. He can still see that hint of a smile… just daring to cross her features if she would let it. He leans down to her opposite cheek, lips close to her ear, and confesses to her softly, “I would like to kiss you now.” He can feel her flush at his words, feel her body ever-so-slightly melt into his… her subtle reactions only encouraging him further.
Pressing his forehead briefly to hers, he pauses, breathing her in, and finally, slowly, closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his.
He’s gentle at first, tentative, but when he hears a soft moan escape from the back of her throat, his restraint loosens. He clutches his hand around the back of her neck, deepening everything, and pins her back against the wall. And god, when her back arches up into him and her mouth opens under his, he has to suppress a groan.
After several moments, he detaches from her, reluctantly, to make quick work of the buttons on her blazer. Tossing it aside, he runs his hands up and down the newly exposed skin on shoulders and upper arms, delighting in every hitch of her breath.
He backs off, just enough to discard his own blazer, his sweater, and loosen and lose his tie. And while he’s eager to immediately dive back into her, she has other plans.
Lifting off the wall, she grabs one of his hands, and his head nearly explodes as she begins leading him towards her bed.
“I presume this will be more pragmatic than the docking module,” she smirks. He’s speechless as he falls on top of her, ready to explore every inch of her she’ll allow.
*******
She is so warm, so soft, so wet. And he knows he won’t last long with the way she is gasping, clutching desperately at his shoulder blades, and whispering his name.
He’s long gone, babbling Russian phrases into her neck.
Ty kra-sée-va-ya, Margo.
He feels her smiling and more than that, feels her tightening around him. He grabs her hip bone harder than he should and kisses her chaotically on the mouth as he thrusts sharply and releases into her, seeing stars as he does.
He rests his weight on top of her before rolling to the side and pulling her to face him in his arms.
He can't stop touching her, running his hands over her shoulders and her back and savouring the softness of her fair skin.
Murmuring into the top of her head, he breaks the silence they've found themselves in. “And what of this indiscretion?”
Placing a hand on his chest she looks up at him, eyes serious, “I think it could make an interesting prototype."
He lifts her hand, touching her palm slowly to his lips. “Perhaps for future encounters,” he adds. She hums in agreement and he pulls her close.
And he knows it is not this simple. It will never be this simple. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he should fall asleep and wake up next to her in this room, no matter how much he desperately wants to. But he’ll take a thousand stolen moments like this with her, for as long as she’ll have him.