[ The lonely ache in Verso's voice before had stabbed straight into his chest. He'd felt that way, too: lonely even when he was surrounded by his friends, his family. Missing something he couldn't even name— or didn't want to, if he's honest. He'd known what it was, who it was.
So now he draws Verso close, presses himself closer still, hands running over the man's body from neck to shoulder to chest; sliding around to his back and lower, curving over his ass and skimming back up to his sides. He tips his own head to the side, a shudder running through him as Verso soothes sore spots on his throat with a warm swipe of his tongue and gentle kisses. Merde, how is he going to explain the marks the man left on him to Lune and Sciel? To Maelle?
But he can't care about any of that right now, his breath hitching and his stomach clenching as Verso slides a thumb over a nipple that hardens beneath the touch, as he feels Verso's hand drift lower, start to toy with his already loose, dangerously low slung trousers.
Probably he should stop him again, but his well of frustration for the moment has run dry, his anger relegated back to some ignored part of himself, because it's been two years and he has missed this man's touch with every aching bone in his body. ]
Keep it.
[ His voice is tight, the muscles of his stomach contracting and shivering against the back of Verso's hands, his hips tipping into a touch that hasn't yet come, is only just now being hinted at. His own right hand follows the perfect, curving line of Verso's spine up to the back of his neck, cupping him there. ]
My gift to you, since I have no flowers to offer today.
[ Verso had said he'd see him again, and Gustave wants to believe him, and so he thinks the next time he sees a little purple flower, he'll pluck it... just in case. ]
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Date: 2025-06-05 03:40 am (UTC)So now he draws Verso close, presses himself closer still, hands running over the man's body from neck to shoulder to chest; sliding around to his back and lower, curving over his ass and skimming back up to his sides. He tips his own head to the side, a shudder running through him as Verso soothes sore spots on his throat with a warm swipe of his tongue and gentle kisses. Merde, how is he going to explain the marks the man left on him to Lune and Sciel? To Maelle?
But he can't care about any of that right now, his breath hitching and his stomach clenching as Verso slides a thumb over a nipple that hardens beneath the touch, as he feels Verso's hand drift lower, start to toy with his already loose, dangerously low slung trousers.
Probably he should stop him again, but his well of frustration for the moment has run dry, his anger relegated back to some ignored part of himself, because it's been two years and he has missed this man's touch with every aching bone in his body. ]
Keep it.
[ His voice is tight, the muscles of his stomach contracting and shivering against the back of Verso's hands, his hips tipping into a touch that hasn't yet come, is only just now being hinted at. His own right hand follows the perfect, curving line of Verso's spine up to the back of his neck, cupping him there. ]
My gift to you, since I have no flowers to offer today.
[ Verso had said he'd see him again, and Gustave wants to believe him, and so he thinks the next time he sees a little purple flower, he'll pluck it... just in case. ]