Work Text:
Come into the water
Do you wanna be my baby?
Are you waiting to touch me?
You look so good, but I keep my hands
'Til you come into the water
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“Mary?”
It took her a moment to even register that she had paused her tea pouring, caught in the trance of Laslzo’s hands, stained with ink and fidgeting with a notepad and pen. He stopped as he looked up at her, a tinge of concern in his eyes.
“Are you feeling alright?”
She quickly nodded, smiling gently as she finished with the tea and took a seat next to Laszlo, who was in front of the fire, after spending some time scribbling away notes and muttering to himself. It was late at night, and Mary couldn’t bring herself to go to bed, knowing he was well awake.
Mary had pulled a chair closer so she could be near Laszlo, something that felt strange but right, especially after their shared intimacy of kisses that had been occurring over the days prior. Laszlo was still nervous and tentative around her, something that was sweet and fizzled warmth inside her, and it was clear that Mary was the one who would need to initiate any casualness between them.
Sipping her tea quietly, Mary could feel Laszlo’s eyes on her, but she left her gaze on the delicate teacup cradled in her hands, with its steam rising into her face as the smell of lemon and mint met her nostrils.
“Please,” Laszlo spoke softly - perhaps out of habit during a late hour, as Stevie and Cyrus slept soundly in the house, or because he often spoke gently to Mary, especially now - and he placed down his notepad and pen on the table beside him. “Don’t keep yourself awake on my account. Though I appreciate the tea.”
She wanted to tell him that there were many nights that she had stayed awake, in her room, waiting until she heard Laszlo readying for bed to blow out her lanterns, because it had always been him who had mattered, even on the days where he had been the most frustrating.
“O-K,” she fingered spelled instead, and Laszlo smiled warmly and took his own tea in hand.
“I won’t complain, then. I enjoy the company.”
They sat in comfortable silence, accompanied by the sounds of the last few wood logs crackling in the fireplace, which filled the room with pleasant warmth. Mary ran her fingers over the lip of the teacup, focusing on her mission for the evening.
Perhaps mission wasn’t the right word - but she reflected on the growing relationship she had with Laszlo. Since their shared kiss at the beginning of the week at the dinner table, it had become common for them to share their meals together, and when the privacy allowed for it, kisses were given as small gifts, paired with soft touches and clasped hands. Mary went about her regular duties of cleaning and cooking and helping the doctor when he required it, but her tasks felt less and less like chores or exchange for housing and more like the loyal commitments of a romantic partner, though Laszlo and Mary had not yet discussed any sort of formal title for what they were brewing together.
It was an unusual situation, with Mary being a former patient and study under Laszlo, and she had met him when she was still in her youth, but it was quick that she had grown from a scientific interest into family in the Krielzler household, alongside Stevie and Cyrus, who she viewed like brothers and friends. Laslzo was always different though, and now she understood that the tension that had begun to grow and linger in their interactions was stemming from the same place inside him as it was from her. A want, or a need, more like, to have each other. Only days ago, Laslzo had encouraged Mary to move out on her own, and now, when they passed each other in the corridors, their fingers touched and sometimes, Laszlo would ghost a whisper in the shell of her ear about how beautiful she looked. How quickly they melted like schoolchildren in the blossom of new found love, hiding and shy beneath each other’s gazes.
Cyrus and Stevie caught on all too fast to what was going on, with Cyrus cornering Mary in the kitchen the day prior to inquire about what was keeping her so bright and smiling each day.
Mary shrugged and grinned into the pot of stew she was stirring, and Cyrus raised an eyebrow, seen from the corner of her eyes.
“It’s you and the doctor, isn’t it?” He questioned cheekily, and with a shy smirk, Mary nodded.
“Yuck!” Stevie groaned from his place at the table, burying his face in the newspaper. “If I see anyone kissing, I think I’ll barf.”
Mary held back a laugh thinking about the interaction, hiding her mouth in her tea, and Laszlo absentmindedly wrote something in his notepad. She watched his bad arm resting in his lap, a finger tapping his thigh as it sometimes did when he was thinking.
Along with Cyrus and Stevie, Mary had only told one other person, although, had not had the intention to do so.
That afternoon, some hours prior, the house had been vacant except for Mary herself, as everyone else had been away running errands. Mary had played one of Laszlo’s records, some songs from the opera ‘Norma’, humming to herself quietly as she had gone about her tasks. Dining alone for lunch wasn’t entirely uncommon, though with the recent company of her new companion, it felt strange to sit at the table alone, and she sat at the corner of the table and ate her vegetables and meat in silence.
It startled Mary when a knock sounded on the door. She brushed her apron and prepared to be met with an awkward conversation where she would attempt to explain to the knocker that she could not speak verbally, while they asked questions she could not answer. It was better to have someone home with her who could answer the door instead, but sometimes circumstances called for this.
It wasn’t terribly surprising to find Sara Howard on the other side of the door, as she was a fairly frequent visitor to the Kriezler household. Mary nodded politely at the young woman.
“Mary,” Sara greeted pleasantly. “Is the doctor in?”
She shook her head, and then glanced at the old clock on the wall. “Soon,” she signed, though she wasn’t sure Sara would understand.
“He’ll be back soon?” Sara guessed, looking with interest at Mary’s hands before she tucked them back at her sides. Mary nodded a confirmation, and opened the door further, an invitation that the woman could wait inside. If Laszlo was true to his word, and he was most of the time quite punctual, he would be home within the half hour.
Accepting the offer, Sara stepped inside, and Mary took her hat and overcoat from her before leading her to the drawing room.
“It must be nice to have the house to yourself occasionally, without the men around,” Sara joked, eyeing some of the books on the shelf before she sat in one of the chairs. “What is that playing?”
“N-O-R-M-A,” Mary spelled, and was not surprised when she received a puzzled look.
“I apologize, I don’t understand.” She offered, and gave a small smile. “Is that American Sign Language? The doctor told me he had sent you for some classes. Does he understand when you use it?”
Mary gave the universal gesture of shaking her palm back and forth. So so. Laszlo was quite good at understanding her most of the time, between signing, body language, and facial cues, they could communicate, but she knew he was trying harder now than before to learn, thought struggled to do all the signs himself, as those that required two hands could prove tiresome when exerting his bad arm.
Pouring some tea, Mary smiled when Sara thanked her, and sipped it as Mary stood aside. There was a brief silence, as the Norma song ended, before Sara gestured to the chair beside her. “Please, Mary, sit.”
When she did, Mary politely adjusted her hands on her dress and met Sara’s eye contact. Mary had always thought she was very beautiful, and not so long ago, had been horribly jealous of her. It seemed to be that Sara was everything Laszlo would look for in a woman - fair skin and light hair, a steady job, intelligence and beauty matched with the ability to converse about any manner of things the doctor was interested in and fascinated by, and yet, it was John Moore who stole her glances and vice versa, and Laszlo seemingly had no desire for Miss Howard outside of friendship and work. Mary’s other assurance, of course, was that it was her who received Laszlo’s timid affections, and not Sara, who also seemed to have no interest in Dr. Kreizler aside from being a friend.
“Do you write?” Sara asked suddenly, and must have been amused by the look of confusion on Mary’s face. The latter then followed Sara’s gaze to her hands, clasped in her lap, which were littered with prints left there by ink stained fingers.
Sheepish, Mary hid her hands on her apron. It was foolish to have not washed them off, but Laszlo’s apologies had been so sweet that morning after he had held her, intertwining his fingers with hers before realizing the ink from his note taking had spread to her skin. She waved his sorries away and held his hand to her face. She didn’t mind at all.
Now, Sara watched her with great interest, catching on quickly that there was something to hide. Miss Howard was not the gossiping type, unlike some of the other upper class women that she might have spent time around, but if there was a chance that Mary was into writing or journalism of some form, it certainly would peak her interest.
Saved, the front door suddenly opened, and Dr. Kreizler rushed past in the corridor, dripping with rain as he shed his cape. “Mary, I’m- Oh! Miss Howard, what a pleasant surprise.”
Both women stood when the doctor entered the room, and he glanced between them as he gripped his cane.
“Hello, Doctor, forgive me, I came to speak to you about something in relation to the case.” Sara placed her tea down on the side table.
Laszlo nodded and gestured. “Yes, of course. As you can see, I am soaked to the bone, if you’ll excuse me, I will change and return. I trust Mary has been a good host.” He added a little cheekily, and gave a tight smile before heading up the stairs.
“The doctor?” Sara turned to Mary. “Since when?”
Mary furrowed her brow, and felt her heartbeat pick up. How could she know?
“Please,” the blonde smiled knowingly. “The ink on his hands. As if I could not notice.” Then, after a beat, “I don’t wish to pry - I can drop the topic if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Pausing, Mary avoided eye contact for a moment before nodding. She held up seven fingers, and felt a blush creeping up her ears.
“Within the week? Mary, how lovely for you and the doctor.”
It had turned into a pleasant, albeit brief conversation between the two women, discussing rather awkwardly between hand gestures and verbal speech that Laszlo had indirectly revealed his feelings for his former patient and that they were blossoming into a comfortableness with one another. It piqued Mary’s interest when Sara alluded to the doctor not having much experience with women, and that his courting may be slow and shy. She clarified this was information she had from Mr. Moore, but it lingered in the young woman’s mind after Laszlo returned and took Miss Howard away for case talk.
And in the evening, when the hour had turned late and Sara went to leave, Mary was surprised that the blonde asked for a date for which they could go for a stroll in the park together.
“I will try and find some Sign Language books. I would like to speak with you properly, Miss Palmer. Good night.” After placing her hat on her head, Sara nodded politely and left the house, and Mary went to brew another pot of tea for the doctor, a ray of light in her chest at the prospect of new friendship.
Now, watching Laszlo close his eyes in thought, Mary couldn’t stop thinking about what Mr. Moore had passed along about his friend. Not a lot of experience with women? She supposed she didn’t have a lot of experience with men, aside from the traumas of her past, but was the doctor untouched? He certainly had the charm and poise of a man who could attract many women, as he was well off, European (which came with an accent that appealed to many), and he dressed well and treated others kindly. Upper class women would tend towards men like Laszlo, though his line of work and nervous disorder potentially harmed his chances of a serious relationship. Mary certainly didn’t mind, though.
As the fire died down to embers, and the tea grew cold, Laszlo finally shut his book and rolled his shoulders.
“I believe it is time to rest. I will consult the Isaacson’s tomorrow on my thoughts.”
Mary nodded as she stood, and collected their teacups and saucers onto a tray to take to the kitchen. She listened to the doctor walking up the stairs, his boots hitting the wood on each step, and she washed the cups and set them aside, and as she dried her hands, she thought of Laszlo upstairs, waiting for her to help him with his shoes before he could undress for bed, and she felt a heat in the pit of her abdomen, and quickly shunned away the thought for the time being.
When she arrived in the doorway, as she guessed, he was politely seated on the edge of his bed, and looked up as her figure appeared in the doorway.
“Mary, if you wouldn’t mind,” he asked, and she knelt on the floor, allowing his heel to rest on her upper thigh. The contact sent thrills up her spine, and the first feeling of arousal pooling. It was hard to not make eye contact as she worked the buttons with deft fingers, first tugging the boot off before moving to the next. Mary did not miss the way Laszlo’s fingers of his good hand lightly gripped the sheets when she touched his calf to switch feet, or how he took deep breaths when she glanced up at him from dark eyelashes.
“Thank you,” he whispered when she cast the second shoe away, but neither moved, instead letting the silence fill the air. The friction of thighs squeezed together from her position on the floor elicited great restraint not to feed the desire plaguing Mary, and instead, she rested her palms on the doctor’s knees, enjoying his slight jerk reaction from her touch, before she leaned a cheek to rest atop his thighs, and rubbed her face against the soft fabric of his pants, much like a cat. With a tentative hand, Laszlo touched her hair and stuttered out her name.
Sitting back up, Mary stared at her love, finding his jaw clenched in desire and his chest rising and falling with a showing of want. When she reached up, he did not flinch away, and allowed her to pull his face down to meet hers, and Mary’s fingers tangled in his beard as she pressed her lips to his.
Laszlo hummed sweetly against her, and their kiss was soft, and when they pulled apart, Mary brought them back together again quickly, sitting up taller and deepening their kiss. It seemed the doctor did not know where to place his hands, and she guided his palms to press against her waist.
Lemon and mint still lingered on Laszlo’s lips, and Mary savoured every taste, and smiled when he did too, their mouths hovering over each other.
“Miss Palmer,” he began, and she quickly stood, enjoying his mildly disheveled look on his face.
She held up a finger, and signed. “Wait please.”
Then, Mary left. She walked to her bedroom, quietly, aware of the other members of the house. In the room, she carefully pried off the layers upon layers of her clothing until she was nude, and had stepped out of her last linens, and then slipped into a nightgown, which dropped to her collarbone and had frills on the sleeves that she liked to touch when she fell asleep. Then, Mary let down her hair, which, long and dark, cascaded down her back in waves like a black ocean, and she combed it a few times before inspecting herself in the mirror.
It was not a surprise to find that Laszlo had indeed waited, as she had requested. Either his arousal was speaking for him or he was curious as to what she was doing. He seemed surprised when she reappeared in the doorway, undressed and informal, a rare sight as she did not frequent the corridors unless she was dressed for the day.
“Mary,” he sat up a little straighter.
She stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her, then sat on the bed next to the doctor. Laszlo searched her face, but avoided looking any lower. Her breasts were peaked against the thin fabric, and she wished he would just get it over with and take her whole self in. She was, after all, there to show how much she cared for him.
Gently, she picked up his bad hand and lifted it to her face, allowing his thumb to caress her cheek.
“Mary,” he said again, and she shook her head.
“Please,” she signed against her chest, because she loved him, and she wanted him.
As not to spook him, she leaned forward slowly and met his lips once more, kissing softly at first. The way Laszlo kissed was like he was trying to restrain himself from taking too much at once - he shook and hummed when he kissed, and he always sighed when Mary’s fingers found his beard, tenderly raking her nails through it. Their kiss deepened, with a swipe of tongues making Mary shiver in delight.
As they moved their mouths together, Mary began working at the doctor’s waistcoat, carefully unbuttoning it down the front. They pulled apart as she slid it off his arms before placing the garment aside. The suspenders came off next, and Laszlo’s breath hitched when her fingers ran across his middle to unlatch the braces from his pants.
“Now, wait a moment, Mary,” he spoke softly, but pried her fingers away after the suspenders came off. “This is not anything you must do, if you feel like it is a requirement. Physical intimacy should only be partaken in if it is a consensual agreement between-”
Mary held up a finger to silence his rambles, and pointed to herself and signed. “Me, yes. You?”
The doctor swallowed hard and nodded shyly. “Of course. Well, yes, I mean. I want it.”
Smiling, she pulled the man back into a kiss, and eased him further onto the bed. It was an awkward tangle of limbs and clothes for a moment while they found a comfortable position, with Laszlo laying against the pillows, and Mary hovering over him.
“I would switch,” he began, “but with my arm, it would prove difficult..”
“O-K,” she insisted, and began to unbutton the front of the doctor’s shirt. Her breathing was steady - this is where, when skin began to show, that Mary imagined she may grow nervous and panic, at the expense of her past traumas. She had not been with a man since the last time her father had abused her, and even after, it had taken years before she acknowledged any part of her own body to bring pleasure to herself. Sometimes, in nightmares, or even when she closed her lids, Mary could still see the sweating face of her father and his breath on her skin. But he was gone, and beneath her was a man who was nothing but patient and understanding of her past. His hands were politely seated on her arms as she worked at his shirt, and he looked up at her with admiration.
Mary raked her fingers though the soft hair adorning his chest after the top had been pulled off, and smiled at the doctor’s sigh that accompanied it. She then took his hands and placed them on her waist, maintaining eye contact to encourage him to touch her.
“Is this alright?” He asked, tentatively running his fingers up and down her sides.
When Mary nodded a confirmation, he grasped her a little firmer, wiggling himself into a more comfortable position beneath. Her nightgown rolled up a little with the action, exposing her legs as Mary leaned over to run small kisses down Laszlo’s neck. She hummed quietly when she felt his hands near her knees, testing their skin pressed together bare. His hands were soft, and her innermost desires sparked at his touch.
Her lips continued on his collarbone, and it was becoming more and more obvious that his arousal was growing, if the hardness beneath her was any indication. An experimental rock of her hips to rub their arousal together sent shocks flying through her nerves, and the doctor gasped lightly at her movements.
“Oh, Mary.” he whispered in the candlelight, and she sat up to stare down at the man. He watched her under thick eyelashes, his eyes glossy with lust. Her hair fell around her face like a waterfall, and she pushed it behind her and reached down to pull her nightgown over her head.
Laszlo tensed at the sight of her bare body, and she shed the clothing to the side.
Mary sat confidently, showing her expanse of dark skin to the man without shame, her breasts exposed upon a smooth stomach and a tuft of dark hair that led to where she was rubbing against the doctor.
“Touch me please,” she signed, and Laszlo nodded, starting first at her thighs, allowing his hands to run up and down them before ghosting over her sides and stomach. He touched her with the delicacy of a man who worked with those who needed kindness, his fingers used to tenderness from the children he cared for. But Mary was no child, and the doctor’s apprehension clearly stemmed from worry of her mental wellness, so she placed his hands over her breasts, and began to roll her hips against his. Their fingers stayed clasped within each other, over her chest, and both of them panted through her motions.
Her wetness was beginning to seep through Laszlo’s pants, and his hardness was too tempting not to take care of. She let go of his hands, which slid back down to her sides, and unclasped the front of his trousers. When Mary reached to pull him out, a gentle hand on her wrist stopped her, and Laszlo sat up a little more against his pillows.
“Mary, I would just like to say first,” he began, switching their hands around so he was tenderly cradling hers within his own. “I care for you quite a lot. Everything you do for me..well, I would not be able to get by without you in my life. I’m sure you know that already. You mean a lot to me.”
“You too.” Mary felt her ears blushing and leaned forward to kiss the doctor. His moustache tickled her upper lip, but she didn’t mind. While they shared lips, Mary ran her hand over his member and took it from his pants. She dipped her fingers into her own slick before returning her dominant hand to his length.
Their kiss was broken when Laszlo gasped and leaned his forehead against hers so he could look down at their connection. They both watched her hand pump him a few times, gently putting pressure on him while watching the way his chest moved up and down with his pants. Mary let go of him to rock her centre against the doctor once more, and they grasped at each other’s forearms to create stability, and only their pants and quiet hums filled the room. Mary wished she could be as vocal as the noises pent up in her chest were, but her actions would have to do for now.
Mary lifted up a little to rub the head of Laszlo’s length against her opening, teasing the doctor.
“Ah, oh, please,” he whispered. “Mary,”
He slipped into her quite easily due to the immense pleasure she was already feeling, and they both gasped in unison. He filled her comfortably, though it had been awhile since Mary had felt someone else like this, and held onto the doctor for support.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, and brought her hand to his cheek.
Mary smiled and blushed, allowing her fingers to run his beard before rocking once, then twice, into his hips. The fabric of Laszlo’s pants rubbed against her thighs, but she didn’t mind.
The rhythm of thrusts and bouncing was a bit awkward at first, and they laughed at their clumsiness, but the doctor kissed Mary’s knuckles and she rubbed his chest lovingly, and they worked out how to best meet each other comfortably in movement.
“Here,” Laszlo said, and brought his hand to her centre. He used his thumb to rub circles at her clit, bringing even more pleasure to their joint experience. “Does that feel good?” He asked earnestly.
Mary nodded rapidly, because it did, with the combination of her bouncing on his member, and his deft fingers pulling her arousal from her, it felt like she had a coil wound up tight in her stomach, ready to be released. Laszlo’s hair was falling in his eyes as he thrust his hips upwards to meet Mary’s work, and he watched where their bodies met intently and with focus, like he did with all his work.
The coil in her stomach was teetering on the edge, and Mary wished desperately she could call for the doctor’s name, but settled for what sounded like as much of a moan as she could give as her coil finally released, and her muscles spasmed and contracted around Laszlo’s length. His fingers continued rubbing her through the orgasm, and he shifted his grip to her thighs, meeting her bounces with thrusts a bit more desperate than before as he moaned her name, which from his lips sounded like a song.
“Mary, Mary, oh, Mary, my love, Mary,” he chanted like a prayer, like a mantra, and he quickly shifted to pull out of her, allowing his spend to pump onto both their stomachs as he worked through his climax.
Both panted heavily from the effort, and after a minute, Mary rolled off the doctor, feeling the stickiness of sweat behind her knees and along her skin, as well as the evidence of the doctor’s pleasure coating her abdomen.
“My apologies,” he finally spoke, looking at the mess. “I shall try to aim better next time.”
Mary couldn’t help but laugh at his joke, not even able to think too long about the implications of a next time. Laszlo’s hand found hers on the mattress, and he brought it up to his mouth to once again kiss her knuckles.
“Thank you.” he said, and Mary smiled. “Shall we wash?”
She yawned then, and shook her head. "Morning,” though she knew very well she would regret not washing then, but that was a regret for the next day. Now, she was in Laszlo’s bed, where she was warm and safe and cared for. HIs warm eyes met hers, and the light smile on his lips was kind and welcoming. Laszlo’s hand stayed in hers and she rolled on her side to face him, already feeling the threats of sleepiness wash over her like a warm wave, as slumber pulled at her lids, making them feel heavy. She thought, as her eyes fluttered, about how the next day would come, where the doctor had a carriage trip with Mr. Moore, but when he was home, she would kiss him and eat with him, and when the night came again, she would hold him and tell him she loved him and all the ink stains he left for her.
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I didn't know I had a dream
I didn't know until I saw you
So would you tell me if you want me?
'Cause I can't move until you show me