[ He huffs a bit of an amused sound against Gustave's skin -- and doesn't at all deny it. He has too many secrets, and while he does want to give Gustave an opportunity to ask questions, to learn about him, and part of him even wants to give him answers -- the fact that he can keep any too-sharp questions at bay like this is convenient. It's still secondary, though. The main purpose is just that he wants to do it. ]

I just can't help myself around you.

[ He really can't. Verso pops open under button until he can pull the waistcoat open, running his hand up and down over the undershirt beneath, making some appreciative sound at how much more he can feel of him, warm solid muscle just barely separated from his touch by a thin layer of fabric. The uniform does err on the side of being cumbersome more than enticing, but with some of it a bit out of the way, Verso leaning back to get another look at him, his eyes roaming steadily over his body -- he does see the appeal. ]

I think I would've been smart enough to pick us a more -- secluded table. Somewhere in the corner. [ Tucked away in the corner of this theoretical restaurant, a nice view through the window but otherwise partly shadowed except for a nice candle. Verso ducks his head to mouth a kiss to his throat, hand moving to the topmost button of that undershirt. ] So I could maybe see -- how much you'd let me get away with.

My hand on your thigh. Touching you as we talked.

[ If this sounds like a specific fantasy rather than something he's making up on the fly, its because, well. It is. Two years is a very long time. ]