[ That feral edge he remembers from their time in the garden seems to be fully unleashed now. Verso is like a wild animal, growling when Gustave drags him back and darting back in as soon as he gets the chance, his mouth finding the pulse point in Gustave's throat with unerring accuracy as Gustave's fingers grip so hard into Verso's inexplicable expedition uniform that he feels some seam somewhere start to give.
It jolts a new sensation into his gut, for a moment clearing his head of the fog that's rolled in, and he lifts his hands off Verso for long enough to push at his own jacket, the cloak, the scarf around his neck. These are... special, his apprentices worked on this uniform, and Sophieโ
Another stab of pain at the thought of her sweet, mischievous face looking up at him, at the tears in her eyes when they both realized there would be no reprieve this time. Sophie gone and Verso somehow, impossibly, returned, but will he stay? Or will this just be another loss, and another and another and another?
But he can't let Verso destroy this uniform, no matter how much he wants to feel those roaming, desperate hands on his skin, so he helps, loosening buckles and clasps until he can work jacket and cloak and scarf off, letting them drop to the ground behind him and leaving him in waistcoat and undershirt. Verso's right, the uniform's are inconvenient for this, butโ ]
I didn't think that would be a problem I'd have to deal with.
[ No matter what Sophie said about him and Lune. He'd thought it two years ago, when he last saw this man leaping away: no more. Maelle is his focus here, now, even if Lune and Sciel are attractive women he likes and admiresโ
And he was never going to see Verso again.
His own voice is a growl now, as anger and desire and bewildered, giddy joy all snarl together in him and pull, and he leans into run his own mouth over Verso's cheek, his ear. ]
Do you have any ideaโ I never thought I'd even hear your name again, and then out of nowhereโ
[ Perhaps he shouldn't tell Verso his friend Esquie ratted him out. But he isn't exactly thinking his mostly clearly, right now. ]
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Date: 2025-06-03 12:52 am (UTC)It jolts a new sensation into his gut, for a moment clearing his head of the fog that's rolled in, and he lifts his hands off Verso for long enough to push at his own jacket, the cloak, the scarf around his neck. These are... special, his apprentices worked on this uniform, and Sophieโ
Another stab of pain at the thought of her sweet, mischievous face looking up at him, at the tears in her eyes when they both realized there would be no reprieve this time. Sophie gone and Verso somehow, impossibly, returned, but will he stay? Or will this just be another loss, and another and another and another?
But he can't let Verso destroy this uniform, no matter how much he wants to feel those roaming, desperate hands on his skin, so he helps, loosening buckles and clasps until he can work jacket and cloak and scarf off, letting them drop to the ground behind him and leaving him in waistcoat and undershirt. Verso's right, the uniform's are inconvenient for this, butโ ]
I didn't think that would be a problem I'd have to deal with.
[ No matter what Sophie said about him and Lune. He'd thought it two years ago, when he last saw this man leaping away: no more. Maelle is his focus here, now, even if Lune and Sciel are attractive women he likes and admiresโ
And he was never going to see Verso again.
His own voice is a growl now, as anger and desire and bewildered, giddy joy all snarl together in him and pull, and he leans into run his own mouth over Verso's cheek, his ear. ]
Do you have any ideaโ I never thought I'd even hear your name again, and then out of nowhereโ
[ Perhaps he shouldn't tell Verso his friend Esquie ratted him out. But he isn't exactly thinking his mostly clearly, right now. ]