Chapter Text
Normally, such earthly pleasures and pursuits never really garnered much interest to him.
His fascination with conquering death took up too much of his mind.
But to some degree, the scientist was also a man. One of flesh and blood and desire.
He cloaked himself in his logical statements. “To study the body is to study all of God's creation.” So was said over and over in libraries when caught leering for hours over their female form. With his nose so perversely pressed to so many books, he understood why he was often the victim of scornful gazes, though he did not like it.
As thorough as the Baron could be, however, flipping through every relevant piece of literature, none satisfied the craving of understanding. While the male form is something he feels done and said for, with both more abundant references and his own mastery of his body, it was not so simple to get himself a female specimen. (And he was careful to always try to use that word)
It would be during his time in the university that he’d cross paths with you.
A suspicious companion of one of his fellow students, you hung off his arm rather unnaturally the few times he was able to spot you. And seemingly only he noticed how your gowns were not quite of the season and how your accented words would sound rather rehearsed.
He couldn’t even put words to his feelings, this vexing curiosity about you that wouldn’t end. Victor was not satisfied with the idea of your being so simple, it was impossible to him. So he turned to search for answers.
Starting with your name. Not familiar among proper families as he scoured until it would eventually prove to be an alias. One that he’d follow back to a theatre, and let you pretend it was by accident that he discovered your secret.
“I find thespians quite remarkable,” Victor tried to say casually over wine in your dressing room that evening. Though his lips met the rim, he never drank, attempting the image of a polite man of society. His act could fool anyone but an actress.
“If you’ll offer me more integrity than to lie, it’d be greatly appreciated.”
You stood as you’d just served his drink and felt sitting would invite him to stay for even longer.
Inviting himself into your chambers seemed natural to him.
He sat too comfortably in your chez lounge, and worse, he looked like he belonged there.
“Lie, I don't know what you could mea-”
“Must I plead for you to be frank, Baron Frankenstein. I’m afraid my schedule this evening does not allow me much time for-”
“Quite so.” It was forcefully said, setting the glass down on the short table with equal spite. The polite image unraveled and he seemed annoyed to not continue. ’’You have something I need.”
How typical.
“It’s little I make on my own, but we can bargain your stipend to keep this quiet.”
“Stipend?” He gave a laugh of genuine amusement, “You think I'm after your money? Dear, I am a man of science, not a fiend.”
The word almost calmed you but his tone didn't let you fully trust.
”Then what is it you want?”
At this he begins to blush, becoming uncharacteristically quiet and standing to turn away toward the window instead. But his eyes, trying to appear shameful, were always on you.
“I mean this in no disrespect to your relationship with my colleague and would appreciate your discretion. It is of scientific importance that I make this request, though I understand if you want no part in the matter. It’s not very ladylike.”
“What a prelude.”
Another veil lifted as his monologue was cut short.
“I’ll get on with it then, I’d like to study you.”
His dark gaze was intense, a fact he seemed to know as he flitted his attention back to the open window. The baron didn’t seem to notice how his chest now heaved under his vests.
“In what sense, Baron?”
“Doctor, call me Doctor.”
His eyes were fixed in the corner of their sockets at how your matching breaths shook under your dress and bodice.
“I’ve done enough study on the human form to warrant the title, it’s only a matter of a few semesters at a measly institution. That’s basically a summer with my father.”
“Doctor, then. What type of study should I be expecting?”
Your intrigue invited him to step closer into your space, turning from the moonlight to crowd just over your shoulder. His body radiated warmth behind you.
“I don’t want to intrude, we share a mutual friend.”
“He’s not much a friend of mine, so much a client.”
Information he’d use for himself at a later date, and he smiled at the revelation.
“May I ask the nature of your business relationship?”
“He pays merely for my company in public, I believe to make envious of a woman who once scorned him. Men can be so simple and small like that.”
It was so easily coming off your lips. There was something about the Baron that felt safe to give into the sometimes wicked or judgmental thoughts of others. He wouldn’t mind them, would not divulge them to others. Victor was too intrigued by the unraveling of this story to moralize it according to a standard he found trivial.
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing I would ever offer him.”
Your voices had fallen to a near whisper at this point, with the ticking sound of the nearby clock to accent the little time you had left. Another show was to start in the next 15 min, offering less than 10 for him to get to his point. (As much as you wish he could drag it out)
Victor took this momentary pause to press forward into you, chest to your spine and his hair tickling at your skin as his lips met your ear.
“And yet, you seem to easily offer yourself to me. How curious.”
A gloved hand encircled your waist. The other took yours in his to raise his mouth.
“Your sex intrigues me.”
The heat of his words rushed under your dressing gowns. They seared into your skin with his kiss to your hand, one that shuddered through you in a way he delighted to notice.
His dark eyes were hungry now, not shy anymore in their wanting and exploration.
He raised your touch to his face, the scarlet glove enclosed over yours. The dangerous color seemed to compliment his devilish smirk.
Victor seldom felt this, this thrill of discovery, less for a living being. People would describe him as overly confident in his ability, arrogant or cocky with his knowledge. His passions always seemed to be only stirred by the extraordinary, so he never found time to find the interest in these everyday commonalities.
But the way you shivered under his touch brings him renewed satisfaction. The way his voice and words seemed to impact your form, he wondered if you notice how your head leans into his. Your hooded gaze was fixed on the seductive color encasing his palms, and he wondered how the texture of the leather would move across your skin.
“What can I offer to your study, Doctor?”
Women were a common man’s vice, so Victor thought. In truth, he’d shy away from thoughts of the opposite sex, not ready to unwind that knotted spool of thread just yet.
But his body would discover the allure as desire pooled in his stomach for quite possibly the first time. Your warmth, your open posture and mind, the want in your eyes all invited him to indulge in this new feeling.
“We haven’t enough time for it tonight,” he responded. “But my proposal is for the examination of the female form.”
“How clinical, Doctor. Are there not books on the topic?”
The thought of turning to the literature seemed impossible to him now. He could recount pages of scientific observation and none were so informative as your touch.
“None so thorough as I’d like to venture, my lady.”
You bit your lip at this. This was consistent with the reputation he had: impolite and shameless. But those were qualities you were finding more and more appealing.
“That’s quite forward to say, Doctor.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been very shrewd with my wants.”
“And what specifically do you want from me, Doctor?”
“Everything.”
Victor’s lips were now pressed to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, words breathing warm air over the goosebumps he left in his wake. His other hand came to your waist as well, pulling you flush against him. Never did the weight of another person feel so delicious to him.
“I want to know your body. How it responds to my touch, what brings you pleasure and satisfaction, what brings you pain, I want to unravel every part of you. I want to see how you bloom for me.”
This was all new even to himself. The two of you had shared nothing but acknowledging glances up until this point, and yet he was already consumed.
As were you.
His intensity didn’t scare you, in fact it felt like the only thing that matched yours. An actor’s study was always people, so you had tried to study them all in your time on the Duke’s arm. Most were boring, happy to be stuck in routines that were deemed “polite and correct.” Men and women only indulge in the dark but their high society selves are copies of one another. That’s why he stood out, enjoying being his dastardly self so openly and with pride. Baron Victor Frankenstein always rose to the top of your list of curiosities. And you were eager to venture, knowing the feeling was mutual.
“I’d think bloom was too poetic a word for you, my lord.”
“From what I’ve seen in books, botany is the only comparison. There are diagrams of the female sex but too many are first and foremost worried about frigid pleasantries. I didn’t realize how insufficient their research is until I was eager to explore for myself.”
That sinful glove took hold of your chin to bring your gaze to his.
“With your consent, I hope to spread you open and investigate every petal, curve, and drip of dew, my flower.”
The statement winded you, your knees failing and body finding strength in the man pressed behind you. He found the impact of his words on you most enticing, his first venture into sensuality a rousing success.
“I’ll await your answer after the show, madam.”
And with that the Baron Frankenstein, the fiend he claimed he wasn’t, pressed a searing kiss to your mouth. His plush lips were sweet but his mouth was demanding, almost as overwhelming as his personality. Up close you can take in his smell of chemicals, leather, books, and what seemed to be the faint smell of blood.
The scarlet hand released your face but you held firm to him still. The dangerous color now seemed to stain inside you too, wanting nothing more than to lose yourself to his madness and make reason for it. This man was trouble, a red flag that branded himself as such, but irresistible to your curious nature.
You could hardly remember your lips parting, his hurried whisper of goodbye, the other girls rushing you out to join them onstage. The rest of the night seemed a blur, except for the red leather and dark eyes of the Baron in the front row, already studying.