[ Keep it. Two small words for something he's spent two years trying not to put any words to at all, for something he hasn't declared to anyone in far longer than that. Two words that say what so many others can't quite manage: I missed you. I thought about you every day. You made me come alive again. Two words that say just as much as three more obvious ones that even now he shies from accepting. They barely know each other, and it's clear that Verso has secrets upon secrets upon secrets.
He'd thought his heart was well-protected, locked back away in some secret place no one but Sophie would ever be able to enter, and then there had been Verso. Smiling and handsome, charming and mysterious with a touch like fire and a voice that makes even the most prosaic words sound like poetry. And then his heart was gone before he realized it, held in this man's callused hands.
Even in his most miserable moments over the last two years, though, when he wanted most, he can't say he ever wanted it back. Not his heart; only Verso. It's a shock to finally see him again, and Gustave's more than half afraid he's simply making the man up, that his mind is simply showing him the person he's longed for the most. He's not less inclined to believe it when Verso murmurs what he does against the sensitive skin of his throat. Tomorrow.
He hadn't wanted to ask; he hadn't wanted to see Verso's face fall, to hear him make excuses again. It jolts through him โ possibility, hope โ how many times will he let himself be fooled? ]
Tomorrow?
[ Is what he begins to ask, but Verso's hand is moving between them, sliding down between his legs and ohโ for a moment the only thing holding him up is Verso's arm around him, the rock wall at his back as firm fingers wrap around him and he makes a low, helpless sound, groaning at the touch, his own hands tightening at the nape of Verso's neck, his arm around Verso's waist. There's a moment of dizzying sensation, every part of him fizzling out to focus just on Verso's fingers and how they wrap so sweetly around him, and then it's gone and the loss is just as disorienting until Verso's rearranged them and presses his hips against him in a way that makes his vision white out for a moment. ]
Versoโ
[ It's not enough, it's not enough, and his hands slide feverishly over Verso's body, reaching for the fastenings of his trousers, undoing what he can to shove them away, wanting to feel that throbbing heat without any barriers in the way. ]
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He'd thought his heart was well-protected, locked back away in some secret place no one but Sophie would ever be able to enter, and then there had been Verso. Smiling and handsome, charming and mysterious with a touch like fire and a voice that makes even the most prosaic words sound like poetry. And then his heart was gone before he realized it, held in this man's callused hands.
Even in his most miserable moments over the last two years, though, when he wanted most, he can't say he ever wanted it back. Not his heart; only Verso. It's a shock to finally see him again, and Gustave's more than half afraid he's simply making the man up, that his mind is simply showing him the person he's longed for the most. He's not less inclined to believe it when Verso murmurs what he does against the sensitive skin of his throat. Tomorrow.
He hadn't wanted to ask; he hadn't wanted to see Verso's face fall, to hear him make excuses again. It jolts through him โ possibility, hope โ how many times will he let himself be fooled? ]
Tomorrow?
[ Is what he begins to ask, but Verso's hand is moving between them, sliding down between his legs and ohโ for a moment the only thing holding him up is Verso's arm around him, the rock wall at his back as firm fingers wrap around him and he makes a low, helpless sound, groaning at the touch, his own hands tightening at the nape of Verso's neck, his arm around Verso's waist. There's a moment of dizzying sensation, every part of him fizzling out to focus just on Verso's fingers and how they wrap so sweetly around him, and then it's gone and the loss is just as disorienting until Verso's rearranged them and presses his hips against him in a way that makes his vision white out for a moment. ]
Versoโ
[ It's not enough, it's not enough, and his hands slide feverishly over Verso's body, reaching for the fastenings of his trousers, undoing what he can to shove them away, wanting to feel that throbbing heat without any barriers in the way. ]
Please. I needโ I needโ