#mmmm boy

   If you had asked him years ago where he thought he’d be at this point in his life, ‘making love to the woman he loved under the chandelier’ would not have been his answer. And yet, here he was.

   On the floor of a small ballroom, under the chandelier, wrapped up in her.

   Not even fucking, but actually making love to the woman under him.

   His coat (he has a coat) spread beneath her for her comfort, alongside her own dress (some expensive designer taste, Versace, Armani, something like that), her eyes, such a lovely shade of blue, staring into his, while her hand curls in his hair.

   And they were entirely alone in this huge place. Alone, and together.

   And such is how it started.

   There had been a party, a few hours ago. A ballroom full to the brim, full of swishing skirts and dashing suits and lovely music. Scandal had stayed by his side the entire night, and tempted him to more than one dance on the floor, and had resisted an attempt or two from his own prompting. “I know this dance,” with a smile on those red lips, “and I know you can not dip me.”

   “But practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” He’d prompt again, and her smile would soften.

   “Perhaps in private. But the next dance, darling, I will give you.”

   That she did. It was actually a good time, considering these had never been his type of party, even from the very start.

   But then the time came when people began to file out of the door, one by one, two by two and even in threes. The lights dimmed as they went until the chandelier was almost the only light still going.

   The music, however, still played slow and louder now that there was no longer the chatting of the upper class in their fancy clothing around them. He wasn’t quite sure why they had stayed so long here, but even he could call the atmosphere romantic. Especially with Scandal on his arm, humming the tune lightly as she leaned against him, and the moment of pure peace between them did something silly somewhere inside his gut.

   Then the music around them changed, into another tune he’d heard scattered throughout the night, and he really just couldn’t help himself. He pulled himself away, sliding his hand down her arm just to catch hers in his, putting on his best gentlemanly flare, and gave her a slight bow.

   “If I could have this dance, madam?” That’s when the smile really broke across her face, one that didn’t match the ‘gentlemanly’ act that was on his own face. The act he was finding hard to keep up, that favored melting into something...worryingly soft, as he pulled her close again. As she let him pull her towards the floor.

   It would worry a him from years ago, though he would loathe to admit it, that her smile made something go in his chest. A him from years ago would be afraid, when she laid her head against him as they swayed, that she could hear that something in his chest. That she’d try to make something of it. The him of now barely even paid attention to it.

   The huge room was silent save for the gently swaying tune still on the air, and still besides their own slow rhythm.

   It was...comfortable. Some kind of peaceful, the quiet between them, the easy way they moved together. A content sigh bubbled from his chest, and she adjusted her head against his shoulder.

   Their calm and peace lasted until the familiar chords of the end of the song, and for a split second, he almost mourned the space between them, the cold space of where she had been pressed against him, and thought about just pulling her back in.

   But he had something to prove now, and what better way to end this part of the night than with a perfect dip?

   Scandal went easy in his arms, and the thing in his chest was back at the easy display of trust in him as she leaned with it-

   He didn’t drop her this time.

   That was only a partial victory he could claim, as he pulled her back to him and all the balance he’d ever possessed seem to leave him, and down they both went.

   The floor was cold and unforgiving to his elbow and spine, and Scandal’s weight only marginally less so on his stomach.

   The music faded around them to the silence of the night as they lay on the floor.

   Misfortune took his time propping himself onto back up, ever aware of every place on his body that had collided with the floor, and Scandal stared from where she awkwardly sat on his thighs. He cracked a small smile at her, and opened his mouth to ask if she was ok-

   And the quiet room was filled with the sound of her laughter. Beautiful and behind a hand like she could ever hide it, eyes closed and delicate shoulders shaking. He couldn’t help the wide smile that came from him in return, propping himself up a little more as she re-settled herself on his legs while she laughed, hand moving from covering her mouth to brush against his cheek. “At least you didn’t drop me?” she said, before erupting back into giggles, and the laugh he didn’t realize he’d been holding back echoed around the room with hers.

   He’s not entirely sure when they’d stopped laughing, but he was very aware of the way she was looking at him, teeth worrying at a perfectly red lip, and of how very close they were, breaths mingling. He was very aware of when her hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair, as she closed that distance between them, and he was very aware of the pleasant taste of the night’s champagne on her tongue.

   And here he was now, and here she was now, beneath him, and it all felt too...rightfully in place to be real. Felt like this is what was supposed to be, felt like something-

   Her legs squeeze around him just so, and he slows like he knows she's asking him to, draws back to look at her.

   And she, ever so devastatingly, just looks at him, little smile playing on her lips. Meets his eyes, finally, with her hand smoothing down his jaw, and so earnestly whispers, "I just want this to last a little longer, is all."