A Moment

Feb. 19th, 2019 10:11 am
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Title: A Moment
Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 794
Characters/pairing Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce
Warnings: Unresolved sexual tension, non-descriptive mention of kink.
Summary: Midge visits Lenny in his hotel room.
AN: This is what happens when I binge-watch Mrs. Maisel and fall a little in love with the idea of Midge/Lenny. It won’t happen, but the actors have such great chemistry between them, and this little fic suddenly sprung into my mind.

Being scent-oriented I imagine Midge would wear White Shoulders by Evyan. Launched In the 1940s it has been called “the iconic American scent” and with its notes of neroli, tuberose, aldehydes, gardenia, jasmine, orris, lily-of-the-valley, rose, lilac, sandalwood, amber, musk, oakmoss, civet, and benzoin I imagine it would suit Midge well.

The whole fic on AO3

“So this is where you live” Midge chirps as she steps into his room.

“This is where I stay”, Lenny corrects her.

He wonders what she is doing here; shabby hotel rooms are certainly not her natural habitat, but he says nothing, only shoves his hands into his pockets and watches Midhe as she zooms around the room like a bright and exotic bird. She is wearing a maroon coat with details in bright yellow which ought to look horrible together, but on Midge looks perfect. As always; Midge always looks perfect with hair and makeup as immaculate as if she has just posed for the cover of Vogue.

Now she is leaning out of the window, exclaiming over the view. Lenny wonders if she really finds a brick wall exciting or if she wanted to open the window because the air is probably rather pungent inside. Possibly both; if anyone could find brick walls interesting it would be Midge, and she is too nice to tell him his room stinks.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she says when she emerges again, but before she can tell him what she is distracted again and darts to the bedside table and pick something up.

“Why do you have a pair of handcuffs?”

“I pinched them.”

“On one of your arrest, I assume. But why on earth do you keep them on your bedside table?”

“For fun.”

Lenny watches with interest as Midge fiddles with the cuffs and he sees the exact moment when she realise what he meant with fun. She’s trying it on, one slender hand encircled by metal when she suddenly darts him a surprised glance and her hand shakes a little and the cuffs snaps shut around her wrist.

Midge looks up at him with very bright eyes. “I don’t suppose you pinched the key when you were at it?”

Lenny laughs. “No. But there is a trick to it. Let me help you.”

Up close she smells great. A little bit of hairspray and powder, clean skin and perfume, all mingling into wonderful Midginess. He’s not very good at perfume; women smell of it, sometimes nicely, sometimes too much. Midge, of course, do it nicely. It brings flowers to mind, fresh and cheerful, much like Midge herself. But underneath the flowers, there is something else, something warmer and sweet and altogether sensuous. A scent which feels like a light punch to the head, and which bypass common sense and go straight down his belly and even lower.

They have a moment there; close together with his hand wrapped around her wrist. They always have a moment at some point when they meet, but never this strong before. Midge’s cheeks are a little pink and for once she is quiet, her breathing is a little too fast and shallow. And Lenny thinks that if he kissed her now she would kiss him back. Perhaps she would even consent to let him fasten the other cuff as well, instead of taking it off.

The image of Midge with her hair in disarray and that perfect lipstick smeared makes his breath quicken too, and despite the open window, the room feels too hot. He’s sure she would look perfect when imperfect too.

Lenny would have kissed her if he hadn’t been wearing yesterday’s shirt and hadn’t reeked of stale smoke and too much booze. Possibly Midge wouldn’t mind, but it draws the line between them even thicker. They are going in the opposite directions, and for every step, Midge drifts away from him. He’s popular, but he has seen his future and one day, not too far away, there will be only one way to go; down, most likely in a cloud of drink and drugs. Some days he isn’t even sure he likes to live that much at all. Midge, he bets, opens her eyes every morning and smiles in anticipation of what the day will bring. Regardless of what happens to her, she’ll always walk in the bright spotlight of life, straight up and ahead.

So he doesn’t kiss her, and the cuff springs open and they both take a step back, away from each other.

“I have to go,” Midge declares and he doesn’t stop her. In the doorway, she turns around.

“They must be very popular,” she says and nods at the cuffs. Then she is gone, leaving in a whiff of perfume and the sound of heels rapidly clicking against the floor.

Lenny pours himself a drink and smiles when he realises he managed shook the indomitable Midge into completely forgetting to ask him whatever it was she wanted to ask. He’s sure he will find out what it was the next time they run into each other.
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