[ Keep it. Simple words, enough to close and clasp around Verso's rapidly beating heart, his breath caught in his throat for a simple moment before his mind catches up with him again. And the flowers, well -- ]
-- You'll make it up to me tomorrow.
[ Tomorrow. Verso hadn't quite meant to say that. He does want to see him again, has never been far all these weeks, and now that Esquie has broken this seal there is little reason for him to stay away from Gustave alone -- but he'd still instinctively felt like he needed to. But now that he's voiced it, tomorrow, and he imagines it. Only having to wait a day to feel him again feels like a luxury. And one he'll gladly indulge in.
His lips curve into a smile, against Gustave's neck. Tomorrow it is.
But now, though. Today, tonight. Gustave is still here, his hips moving into his touch, his hand warm and perfect against the nape of his neck. Verso lifts his head to press another little kiss against the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet, and then he's mouthing down over his throat again. The open-mouthed kisses he trails across his neck draw more and more heat, somehow finding another stretch of skin where he hasn't already left a bruise, near his other shoulder, sucking until he knows it will. His movements start to get a bit of that edge back, some of that roiling hunger, something quiet and possessive rumbling in his chest.
Verso doesn't waste much more time. He crowds him more fully against the wall, pulls open the front of his trousers, fingers trailing down the flat of his belly and dipping past the material until he can take him fully in his hand, making some some pleased sound against Gustave's neck as he finally gets to feel him, the heat of his skin under his touch. Some of that impatience starts to return, his hand moving over him like he wants to feel him everywhere, thumb soothing over the head, a few lingering pumps of his hand like he's re-memorizing the weight of him in his touch.
His hand stills for a moment -- and actually leaves him, moving back up, fingers spread as it settles spanning over a hipbone, but that pressure won't be lost for too long. Verso's other hand drops to sling around Gustave's waist, palming down over the base of his spine, gripping him tightly and hauling him closer. The movement is sharp, enough that Gustave's shoulders fall back against the wall at the same time, and Verso eases closer, fitting their hips perfectly together, the heat and pulsing want of his own desperate arousal already obvious even before he rolls his hips forward against him, one slow movement, achingly deliberate. ]
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Date: 2025-06-05 03:59 am (UTC)-- You'll make it up to me tomorrow.
[ Tomorrow. Verso hadn't quite meant to say that. He does want to see him again, has never been far all these weeks, and now that Esquie has broken this seal there is little reason for him to stay away from Gustave alone -- but he'd still instinctively felt like he needed to. But now that he's voiced it, tomorrow, and he imagines it. Only having to wait a day to feel him again feels like a luxury. And one he'll gladly indulge in.
His lips curve into a smile, against Gustave's neck. Tomorrow it is.
But now, though. Today, tonight. Gustave is still here, his hips moving into his touch, his hand warm and perfect against the nape of his neck. Verso lifts his head to press another little kiss against the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet, and then he's mouthing down over his throat again. The open-mouthed kisses he trails across his neck draw more and more heat, somehow finding another stretch of skin where he hasn't already left a bruise, near his other shoulder, sucking until he knows it will. His movements start to get a bit of that edge back, some of that roiling hunger, something quiet and possessive rumbling in his chest.
Verso doesn't waste much more time. He crowds him more fully against the wall, pulls open the front of his trousers, fingers trailing down the flat of his belly and dipping past the material until he can take him fully in his hand, making some some pleased sound against Gustave's neck as he finally gets to feel him, the heat of his skin under his touch. Some of that impatience starts to return, his hand moving over him like he wants to feel him everywhere, thumb soothing over the head, a few lingering pumps of his hand like he's re-memorizing the weight of him in his touch.
His hand stills for a moment -- and actually leaves him, moving back up, fingers spread as it settles spanning over a hipbone, but that pressure won't be lost for too long. Verso's other hand drops to sling around Gustave's waist, palming down over the base of his spine, gripping him tightly and hauling him closer. The movement is sharp, enough that Gustave's shoulders fall back against the wall at the same time, and Verso eases closer, fitting their hips perfectly together, the heat and pulsing want of his own desperate arousal already obvious even before he rolls his hips forward against him, one slow movement, achingly deliberate. ]