[ Verso will make no promises about what he really would or would not have done -- he gets terribly carried away sometimes, in the heat of the moment. He doesn't think it so unthinkable, especially when he hears his own name fall from Gustave's lips, laughing, affectionate, a bit breathless -- every time he hears him say it, Verso think she'd do just about anything to keep hearing it.

He growls a little against his ear, leaning into his touch, encouraging as Gustave starts to work on his coat. Verso's own movements are starting to get a bit of that edge of impatience back even as he knows he has more time, part of him still not entirely convinced that Gustave, beautiful as he is, still isn't going to somehow vanish in a dream. ]

-- That would be exactly why I'd do it, Gustave.

I'd touch you slowly at first, working you up, making you answer more questions -- and when you got closer, I'd stop. [ A sharp nip against his ear, voice low and heated. ] I'd tease you. Stop touching you. Keep talking to you until you started to catch your breath, and then start touching you again.

[ Verso imagines himself dressed nicely for the night, too, one hand around the stem of a wine glass, rolling it idly in his palm, eyes lidded as he teases Gustave under the table, as he works to keep him right on the edge. ]

I'd keep you that way until you couldn't stand it. [ A smile. ] Until you asked me, loud enough for someone to hear, to let you come.