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juliasdowntonstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Intoxication

I've written a new one shot (it's slightly too long to be considered a drabble, I think)

This one was loosely inspired by James Blunt's song “Bartender” and takes place a few weeks after the entire Bricker-incident came to a head that evening in Cora´s bedroom.

This is also the first time I've written something as explicitly M-rated as this (please let me know what you think of it). The second half of this contains said explicit parts and I will try to divide that off with that line feature for people who might not want to read that.

For now, I hope you enjoy some drunk Cobert on a night out in London...

It was a cold, yet still rather pleasant, evening when Robert and Cora walked along the pavement in London Mayfair. Their destination, the grand hotel and restaurant Robert had chosen for them that night, was already in plain view ahead of them. He had not told her where they were headed, but the familiar sight of the red brick facade with its many nooks and balconies was all she needed to see to know. He had selected their favourite restaurant, Claridge's - a decision no doubt influenced by the last time he had tried to take her out to dinner and failed because of a stupid decision she had made.

What was supposed to be a nice surprise on his part had turned into a night both of them regretted, or at least she hoped so, for she certainly regretted every aspect of it in hindsight. He had said quite a few things she found hard to forgive when she had returned to Rosamund's house in Belgrave Square and found him waiting there for her, but she and her behaviour were the reason he had uttered them, she knew that.

Their entire exchange from that night was still very much present in her mind as they silently walked in the direction of the grand entrance. It was unusual for them to talk so little, they always found it quite easy to talk to each other about anything and everything. Cora would have been more than happy to listen to him rant about the next problem the estate was going to have to face or what the farmers had said the day before when he had visited them together with Mary on his rounds, but he stayed silent and kept to himself. They were not on good terms, that much was certain. He had even taken his hand back after he had helped her from the motor, letting it fall back to his side instead of holding it out for her to put her hand in the crook. Things had been amiss for weeks now, months even, and she did not know what to do or say to get her Robert back. They had talked about it and things had seemed to be looking up, but that had been an illusion.

She looked over at him and saw his eyes fixed on some point ahead of them, almost as if he were ignoring her entire existence next to him. She could almost swear that she even saw his jaw clench when he saw her face turning to him out of the corner of his eye. Cora felt as if she was still not forgiven, even though weeks had passed since that night, and he had apologized for his behaviour with a beautiful set of pearls the last time they were in London for Rose's wedding. Things had returned to normal in the weeks after that - apart from the aspect of their marriage that she usually described as terrific fun. They had been better, or maybe she had just thought they were. The palpable tension between them as they walked to the restaurant was almost too much for her to bear.

Cora was shaken from her musings when they were greeted by a young man in uniform and she suddenly found herself in the restaurant that held so many happy memories she shared with her husband. But she couldn't help but feel a slight disappointment well up inside her while they waited for the young man to find their reservation in the book. The prospect of a rather frosty dinner - if their journey here had been anything to go by - did not seem too enticing to her.

“Excuse me, Mister Crawley, but I can't seem to be able to find a reservation made under that name.”

Her head snapped up, looking at the young brown-haired man in uniform, who was somewhat frantically running his finger down the list of names with reservations for that night. He must have been rather new to this post, judging by the sheer nervousness his entire being exuded.

“Please check again, I definitely called in a week ago,” Robert said calmly, even managing a small smile. It was clear that he was not at all used to being in a situation like this one. He had never had any problems at restaurants or hotels to find reservations. The mention of his title would always be the winning argument, even though he tried to refrain from using it too much.

When the young man still couldn't seem to find their reservation in the book, Robert sighed and decided to play his trump card: “Try Lord Grantham then, maybe whoever put it down used the title instead of the family name.” He was getting impatient and it reflected in his tone, even though he still stayed cordial and polite.

It only took a few seconds and another run of his finger down the extensive list for the young man to look up again with a smile and exclaim: “Ah yes, there we have it, Lord Grantham, sir. I am very sorry for this hold-up. If you please want to follow me to your table, milord, milady?”

Robert had to put a lot of effort into not wincing at the younger man's wording. Proper etiquette must have been a lesson taught in his no doubt costly education he had missed for one reason or the other. Or maybe the war had changed more things than Robert could fathom.

Cora wasn't sure if he had truthfully spied their title on the list of reservations or if it was the mention of said title that did the trick, but she was grateful nonetheless. The situation was becoming quite embarrassing the longer it had seemed to stretch.

The mutual silence continued well into their main course, only disrupted by Robert ordering their food and drinks and some pleasant and rather polite small talk about the food in front of them, which was an unknown sensation to her. This might have been more than acceptable for most couples in the peerage - couples who did not love each other. But Robert and Cora did - they had for more than three decades until their relationship had taken a turn for the worst without either of them seeming to be able to find a way back to the other. This evening proved it. The last time they had had a shared dinner with just the two of them in an atmosphere as uncomfortable as this one must have been on their honeymoon, while they were still trying to get to know the other.

The lack of talking, however, caused a spike in their intake of alcoholic beverages with their food, each of them taking a sip when they would have usually said something that could potentially interest the other. Cora couldn't remember the last time she had this much to drink with her dinner or in general, and she could already feel the inebriation starting to get the better of her judgment. The background noise droned on, washing over her repeatedly and in combination with the wine was making her feel slightly dizzy.

Robert might have been more used to drinking alcohol than she was, or at least he could stomach it better, but the alcohol slowly got to him as well by the time their dessert arrived. The music playing in the background was not quite to his taste - jazz was too modern for the traditionalist in him - but the longer the dinner stretched, the more he couldn't help but want to take his wife's hand and guide her to the dance floor in the middle of the classy dining room with the art deco interior.

She looked beautiful that night - not that she was ever anything but beautiful to him - but something about her dark hair in that intricate coiffure and the different shades of blue fabrics of her dress complimented her features even better than usual.

He reached out his hand, waiting for a response from her. All he got, however, was an arched eyebrow in question, her gaze flickering between his big hand and his face.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked when he realised she had no idea what his outstretched hand was alluding to.

“Really, Robert? Here, with the jazz music you hate?”

He nodded his head yes. Some part of him was aware of the hesitance in her question that offered him a chance to retract his invitation, but his slightly intoxicated conscious mind couldn't care less.

Hesitantly, she abandoned her bombe glacée that had just arrived together with his Eton mess and gingerly put her much smaller hand in his, letting him guide her to join the handful of other dancing couples.

He had never experienced a dance feeling so foreign and yet so familiar in his more than 50 years of existence, not even when he had not yet been taught all the different traditional dances a future Earl had to know. The music that softly filled the vast room lacked any sense of regular and danceable rhythm, at least according to him at that moment, and he struggled to think of steps that fit this particular piece of music. The tall and slender figure in his arms, however, was most familiar to him. He had spent hours upon hours twirling his darling wife around so many different ballrooms over the course of their long-standing marriage. Robert had never enjoyed all these grand balls, had hated the need to socialise with other Earls, Barons and Dukes whose names he could barely remember at the end of the night while his wife was at the other end of the room, talking to the wives of other members of the peerage. Many a night was spent like that, him nursing his drink while listening to the boastings of the other men about their last successful hunt or the new mistresses they had found to keep them happy and occupied in their loveless marriages, while he could only stare at the source of all his happiness across the room, waiting for a chance to excuse himself from the situation. It was their way of finding the joy in these long nights that always seemed to stretch incredibly long, twirling around the room to the familiar rhythms of waltz after waltz.

At first, Robert stumbled around the dance floor more than he danced, Cora merely following his lead, or rather lack thereof. However, at some point, she must have taken over and started manoeuvring them skilfully around the floor under the grand chandelier illuminating the equally grand room, without it looking too obvious to anyone who might have been watching them. Robert should have kept an eye on their surroundings to prevent them from bumping into other dancing couples, but he could not get himself to drop his gaze from her face. He studied it even though he knew her features better than the back of his hand - he knew her mouth that formed a hint of a smile at that moment, and he knew how her lips felt pressed to his in a fiery kiss. He knew her elegantly sloped nose and how it scrunched up when she was not holding in her laughter at something, completely disregarding etiquette and propriety when it was just the two of them. He knew her brilliantly twinkling blue eyes and how they always conveyed her innermost emotions, no matter how hard she tried to be stoic upon his mother's countess' training she had had to undergo after their wedding. Her eyes were not simply blue, but Robert couldn't name all the shades of that colour represented in them. Cora, or any other woman for that matter, probably could have.

He couldn't care less about the names of the hues present in her eyes - what he cared about was the love for him he always saw reflected in them. It had been a while since he saw that love, and this time it had all been entirely his fault. He had pushed her away and into the arms of another man. Nothing had happened though, and for that he thanked God and whoever else might have listened, but it bugged him beyond belief nonetheless. How could he have been so incredibly thick?

Maybe it was the dancing, or maybe it was the amount of alcohol they had both already consumed, but he could have sworn that he saw that love in her eyes again as they danced on the black and white checkered floor.

Before long, the current song came to an end and gave them the chance to return to their desserts. While they were gone, a waiter had refilled their glasses without so much of a question.

“When did you learn to do that?” he asked before taking a bite of his dessert. He relished in the sweetness of the meringue combined with the fine acidity of the berries. How anyone could prefer some heavy chocolatey dessert to the lightness and freshness of his chosen dessert was beyond him. Cora had, years ago, tried to explain to him that she just preferred the heavy sweetness of a chocolate cake or mousse after all the savoury dishes of earlier courses, but her point had never stuck with him - they had simply agreed to disagree.

“Do what?” she replied, cutting into the small dome covered in chocolate on her plate.

“Dance to this sort of music?”

She looked up from her sweet and chocolatey ice cream-filled cake at his question, a forkful of it coming to a halt mid-air.

“Do you remember Rose's stay with us and her surprise for your birthday? Well, I asked her to teach me one or two things afterwards. It never hurts to stay up to date with new things, be those fashions, foods, or dances.”

“Quite right. Rose did a splendid job then. I do not know why I asked you to dance when I had no idea how to do it, you saved me from quite some humiliation, my dear.”

The words slipped from his mouth before he could think. He had not used any term of endearment for her in months, given their strained relationship, and he had no idea how she would react. This evening was planned to hopefully bridge the deep divide between them, to mend what had been broken for too long and he knew he could not afford to take a wrong step. The fact that she had agreed to dance had signalled him that he had chosen the right path, but would this jeopardize it? He waited for a response with bated breath, deciding instead to stare down at his plate.

“I should like to think you asked me to dance because you wanted to.” Her tone was hard and matter-of-fact, it was an unfamiliar sensation to hear her speak to him like that.

He looked back up at her, a slight blush on his cheeks, while he finished the last of his dessert.

Robert saw her cheeky smile and the twinkle of mirth in her eyes. She was mocking him, he should have known she was. She was his wife, and he had spent more of his life with her by his side than without. Of course, she would find a way to lighten the mood with her humour.

Her gaze changed, no longer challenging him. Instead, her eyes softened further and she smiled gently at him. Her enticing, disarming smile that brightened even the darkest of rooms enchanted him. It reminded him of the smiles she used to give him while they were sat around a dinner table when his mother had once again made everyone feel uncomfortable, most especially the two of them. No matter how crude his mother's remarks had been, she would always make sure that he knew that she supported him and would take in stride whatever was thrown at her.

“The rest does not matter, Robert, not to me. And I could not care less about what the other people thought of me leading the dance - if they noticed at all, which I doubt. People are rarely interested in things that do not involve themselves.”

She finished the last of her dessert, followed by another sip of her wine.

Robert felt the tips of his ears warm further, no doubt they must be flaming red by now, much like his cheeks. After gulping down the last of his beverage, he said: “Would you like to go home?”

Not long after, they both found themselves in the back of the motor taking them home to Grantham House in St. James's Square. It would have only been a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant, but both knew that they had had too much to drink to think it sensible to walk the entire way.

The butler had taken their coats and bid his goodnight upon their late arrival, locking the grand wooden doors behind them as they made their way up the many steps. Both, Robert and Cora, stumbled one or two times as they ascended the stairs leading to their rooms in their London home, giggling quietly while trying not to garner any more attention in the mostly empty house.

Cora was still holding his hand, which he took as a good sign. She had taken it in hers on the short ride home from the restaurant, letting it come to rest in her lap. He had chosen not to comment on that gesture, afraid he could ruin that understanding that seemed to have formed over the course of the evening.

They walked along the scarcely-lit, long and narrow hallway leading to both, her bedroom and his dressing room, with her walking slightly ahead of him, almost as if she were dragging him. When they had reached the door to her bedroom, however, he rather forcefully turned her around, hindering her from reaching for the golden doorknob. She gasped slightly at the suddenness of his action, her entire body stiffening in shock.

The next thing she saw was her husband's face mere centimetres away from her own, his blue eyes staring at her intently. She could feel his hot breath on her face and she saw his dilated pupils, her hand still firmly held in his while his other one found its way to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Before she knew it, she felt his lips crashing down on her own in a hot kiss that knocked the remaining breath out of her. Soon, his hand let go of hers and found its way to her face, caressing her jaw as he continued to kiss her hungrily.

The sudden sensation of his touches and kisses made her entire body tingle, it awakened a desire for him she had not felt this strongly in months. Cora wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself even closer than before, her body now pressed flush against his as she stood on the tips of her toes. Her hands wound themselves into his grey hair, playing with the slight curls at the back of his neck, tugging at the locks ever so slightly. He always kept his hair nice and tidy, mostly shorter than this so that it would not curl, but she had always adored his curly hair and the boyish charm it had added to his appearance.

Robert broke their kiss, drawing his face back a few centimetres to look at her flushed face while she was gasping for air. His hands were still on her neck and waist, with seemingly no intention of letting go and he smirked naughtily at her, aware of the effect his ardent kisses had on her.

“Maybe we should go inside before someone finds us out here,” she whispered in response.

Robert did not respond in so many words, but kissed her again, pushing her backwards closer to her bedroom door so that she was pressed firmly between the white lacquered wood and his body while he tried to find the knob to let them in without looking.

He kicked the door shut with his foot once they had entered the smaller room that was already tinged in warm hues of orange and red emitted by the crackling fire in the hearth. After turning the lock on the doorknob to keep any possible intruders outside, his hand once more encircled her waist, the other one running over her back, fumbling with the top buttons of her dress, trying to pry them open without tearing them off.

She pushed his dinner jacket from his broad shoulders before her nimble fingers quickly worked on his already crooked bow tie and waistcoat, discarding the items in a pile on the bedroom floor. His kisses became even hungrier, his tongue exploring her mouth, dancing an all too familiar dance with hers. He could still taste hints of the red wine he had ordered, mixed with sweet notes of chocolate left from her dessert of choice.

Cora broke their kiss again, turning around in his arms while pantingly whispering: “This should make it easier. I do not want to have to explain any ripped-off buttons to Baxter in the morning.”

Robert only chuckled lowly in response, thankful that she made the hard work of undoing the countless buttons of her dress just a tiny bit easier. Once he had undone all of them, his hands ran up and down the sides of her body, coming to rest on her waist and shoulder. He bent down, placing a trail of soft, feathery kisses on the exposed skin of her neck before he started to take out the many pins holding her hair in place. While he was amazed by the sheer amount of pins stuck in his wife's hair to make her elaborate coiffure stay in place, she let her dress fall to the ground, her arms reaching for his head behind her back, pulling him closer to her, urging him to continue his kissing ministrations on her neck.

He also made quick work of her undergarments and chemise that joined his already discarded jacket and waistcoat on the floor.

Her hair now let down from its prior intricate up-do, she turned back around to face him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Before he knew it, she had unclasped his cufflinks faster than he ever could have - he had always struggled with them and was thankful for his valet who always did the fastening of them for him - and just as quickly undid the buttons on the front of his shirt, which then piled on top of the rest of their clothing.

He bent down to kiss her again and he was met with her wandering hands roaming his chest, arms, and back before she broke their kiss yet again. Robert had to suppress a groan of annoyance at the interruption, only to be pleasantly surprised when she walked to the bed, her hips swaying from side to side. He couldn't help but stare at her naked form. If she only knew the effect she still had on him. Well, she must have had an inkling of it, otherwise, she wouldn't have tried to tease him like that.

Gulping, he quickly rid himself of his polished leather shoes and discarded the rest of his clothing and joined her on the canopy bed.

Robert kissed her, his mind feeling hazy as his hands wandered over her delectable body and hers ran over his chest, only to find their way back into his hair, further mussing it. He knew that whatever this was they had started was not going to take long to finish that night - he turned them over so that he was hovering above her, stilling his kisses to look at her, silently asking for her consent, just like he always did. No matter how intoxicated he might have been or how much she had teased him up until that point - he would always ask, not wanting to force her to do anything she might not want. It was a remnant of the early days of their marriage when he had had trouble distinguishing between his desire for her and his duties as a husband while not taking advantage of his wife.

She knew he would ask, he always did. When they were younger, she had thought this to be his guilt making a reappearance every time they shared the bed, which had annoyed her more than anything. But she had grown used to it and had come to find it very endearing, she had realised that this was just his true, gentle nature and it was another aspect of her husband that made her feel like falling in love with him all over again every single time.

Cora's back arched upwards, her chest pressed close to his, when he finally entered her. Her arms came up to keep him close as he filled her out, waiting for her to adjust to him again. It had been months since they last shared their marital bed in that way, but it felt so good and familiar, the both of them quickly finding their shared rhythm in bed again.

Their heavy breathing filled the room, joined by moans and whispers of endearment by either spurring each other on. Her hands continued to roam his upper body and ruffled his once-tidy hair, while he alternated between kissing her mouth hungrily and nibbling at that sensitive spot on her neck, which he knew to be one of her weakest spots.

They moved together as one as he sped his rhythm up, knowing that both of them were close to their highest high. He softly kissed and nibbled at that sensitive spot just below her ear and heard her moan his name in response. When he felt her walls convulse around him, he couldn't help but get undone himself, kissing her fervently as his motions stilled.

He opened his eyes a few moments later, panting from their exertions, and looked down at his beautiful wife lying still beneath him. Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath herself. She looked so serene with her eyes closed, and her long wavy hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her. Robert would almost describe that view as angelic and it hit him yet again.

He had been so blind, Bricker had been right - it pained him to acknowledge that fact given the history, but it was true. Robert had all he could ever wish for and more, and he had taken her for granted, had passed her over and ignored her when she had started to get more involved with the things she truly liked to do, simply because he was afraid of what might or might not happen. And in all his caution of changing things too much, he had almost destroyed the very thing he cherished the most by not trusting her like she had always trusted him. He had been such a fool to ignore his wife, his darling Cora, and had almost lost her and her love in the process.

Cora opened her eyes as he let himself fall to her side. She watched him, her eyes still darkened by desire, as she turned on her side to face him.

“You know, I almost forgot what this feels like, to share a bed with you in this way. I almost forgot why I told the girls ahead of their weddings that things like these between two people who trust and love each other can be the most terrific fun, but tonight reminded me of that. Tonight reminded me of how much I love you and miss you, and that extends to before as well. The dancing reminded me of our little sneaky routine to get out of socialising at balls, it reminded me of easier times, when we navigated calmer seas, and I am sorry for ruining that for u-”

His hand came up to still her hand, which had been drawing small circles on his chest while she spoke softly into the quietness of the room.

“Cora, I told you before. There will never be a single thing you could ruin for me, never. I did not trust you when I should have. I know that I apologised before, but I will do it again and again and again until the end of my days if that is what it takes. I am truly sorry for the way I acted, for pushing you away and for saying those nasty things - I did not mean any of it. Tonight, I promised myself, was to be my last try to get the affections back I know I lost months ago. You accepted my apology and we got back into our daily routines, but I still felt that the fissure in our marriage had not magically disappeared after that simply because I uttered the words I'm sorry. I wanted tonight to make up for it all, I wanted to put this chapter in our lives behind us, once and for all. Maybe it was the wine or the food, maybe it was the dancing, or maybe it was just that sparkle in your eye that hinted that you still loved me, despite all my previous shortcomings. I do not know what it was, but it gave me the courage to be bolder than I probably should have been. Nevertheless, I am glad it led us here, back together, at last.”

Cora giggled, it was rare for her husband to talk this much about feelings and the reasonings behind the things he did or said. “Well, if this is anything to go by, then I would say that the wine played quite a big role. And I want to thank it from the bottom of my heart for giving me back what I cherish most in life - my darling husband.”

“I quite share that sentiment, my dear. But I think we will both be talking differently about our gratitude for the wine influencing our decisions tonight come morning. I suggest we both ask for some powder first thing, God knows we shall both need it.”

Cora nestled into his side, after which he pulled up the blankets to cover their bodies. They both started to feel the effects of everything that had contributed to their present situation: the late hour, the vast amounts of alcohol consumed that evening and the most terrific fun they had had - it all made them feel quite drowsy.

Robert pressed another light kiss on top of her head, murmuring: “I love you, my dearest one.”

“I love you, Robert,” Cora replied, her voice starting to slur considerably more than before.

Just when she had finished that short sentence, she fell into a deep slumber. He could tell by her deep and even breaths, even in the darkness that had fallen over the room since the fire had died, that she was asleep in his arms.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Robert, too, fell asleep, knowing that they finally bridged the divide that had kept them apart for far too long. Things would finally all look better in the morning - if one was to ignore the imminent pounding headaches they would surely be experiencing.

#downton abbey #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #fanfiction #drabble #cobert give me life #one shot

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