Work Text:
Someone knocked at his unclosed workroom's door, and he sighed.
"Christian, could I show you something?," an elate bright voice called, who Christian in an instant knew it belonged to though he still considered the other man "new" around here. And yet it was the only one who could at the end of a workday still be so energetically loaded.
Though he was just sitting over a new sketch, he laid down his pencil, and began already admonishing, before he even already turned around his chair: "Monsieur Cardin ..."
But in a quick reaction, the addressed immediately cut him off, for he seemed to have problems keeping his mouth silent. "Oh, should I say Monsieur Dior? I'm sorry, I just had thought, you know when we met, that seemed so friendly. Maybe you could call me Pierre," he babbled.
"No, I could not," Christian shook his head, though the idea was inappropriate, in a polite tone and with a different excuse than manners, saying: "there already was a Pierre here."
"Ah," Cardin made, apologetic and understanding, even if there should be no problem in knowing more than one Pierre. With a nonetheless glad smile, not dejected by the refusal, he said: "That makes sense," even when it did not.
Surprised that the other accepted his reasoning so easily, Christian finally turned fully around and taking a look at the man in front of him faltered bewildered. Pierre Cardin held a paper, probably an attempt of a gown's drawing, in his hands; down below his shirt, though, he wore no pants over his briefs.
His eyes on the man's toned and athletic calves, Christian frowned. He certainly did not fathom this weird young buck. "What does not make sense, is, ..." he gestured with his hands at the height of Cardin's legs whose eyes glanced downwards.
"Ah that," Cardin nonchalantly waved one hand as if he doesn't see where there's a matter with being almost naked at work. "you see once I've shed for you, without the constriction I felt my creativity flow more freely," he explained himself enthusiastically, "I'm so fueled with ideas, you see," holding up the paper of an illustration.
"I will see about that," Christian gestured to his desk indicating that Cardin should drop his drawing there for him to inspect it later, "if this, uhum, style does make you work," so the other followed order, walking further into the room.
Now standing close to Christian, Cardin replied with a boyishly smug smile down to the man in his chair: "I would rather say I make this style work," for he had noticed that Christian unsuccessful in making it not noticable still kept staring at his bare legs. And Cardin enjoyed being looked at by men.
But he liked to have fun and tease those allured by him. Thus, he slowly stepped back bit by bit and feigning worry, said then falsely innocently: "But if it does bother you, I coooooould ...," drawing out the word, "put something on."
Christian's facade that he was not mesmerized and occupied with observing the other’s freed skin was immediately betrayed by the way he startled. "You really don'ave to," he flustered his words quickly before he coughed clearing his throat.
By then, Cardin in his backwards walk has reached the door. Enticed by the reaction, he grinned mischievously as he slowly closed it and turned the key in the lock. Only afterwards he turned again back to the other man and said, suggesting otherwise: "oooooor instead I could take these off alternatively." His hands rubbed along the hem of his briefs. Taunting, he tugged and flicked at them to allude a look at the skin covered beneath them.
Then he let go of the fabric and said: "I believe I haven't yet," He began strudding with wide steps dangerously stretching his piece of clothing around his crotch across the room back to Christian who held his breath. "thanked you properly yet for my new position." There he arrived in front of the chair again where he greeted the man sitting with a devilish grin.
Christian gulped. He felt intimated under the gleeful eyes of the youngling that enjoyed himself too much with the prospect idea of what he could do. "Whatever you intend to do to thank me," he held up a hand between them, "you need to know I have a partner. Waiting for me at home. I shouldn't –"
Cardin, however, undeterred simply bend over the chair. "I always advice people," he murmured low-voiced, "to separate work and home life," winking at Christian’s face. Then he prepped one leg with a knee on the edge of the chair, Christian’s between him, and suddenly surged ahead to the side at Christian’s shoulder pressing a peck on the skin.
The touch of the wet hungry lips made Christian involuntarily but audibly gasp, amusing Cardin, and yet he pressed a hand against the other's chest to rein in the desire, though his voice displayed that he himself was getting aroused, too, as he whispered: "Monsieur Cardin ..."
The addressed raised his head from the shoulder only up to Christian's ear murmuring into it: "Pierre," for the other to use. And when he took Christian's hand from his chest leading it downwards to his briefs, Christian did so at a touch of his bottom moaning out: "Pieeerre"
Cardin grinned widely above the other’s face, as he took this as He sealed this opened mouth with his own lips in a hot kiss in which Christian finally reciprocated the action of lust moving his tongue into Cardin's mouth, while his hand moved from the behind to the bulge in the front.
****
While Cardin had taken care not to spill into his briefs he afterwards had to walk back in only with to his workplace; Christian, on the other hand, was a bit more of a mess, undone, and needed time to compose himself and tidy himself up alone in his office after the other had left, breathing out in his chair. He let his arm brush over his desk and that way unintentionally touched Cardin's drawing of a design he only then remembered again. After one look over it, he decided that if he ever might establish his own house like the old Pierre did, he would definitely need on his team this new one, the Pantsless Pierre.