[ Verso is mostly focused on touching him, kissing him, feeling him everywhere, letting those words that fall from his lips warm and heated with want envelop him everywhere just like his touches. Gustave gasps under his mouth and tongue -- and then he's starting to hesitate, his words not just catching on his breath, but in his thoughts, in his mind.
He stays close, kissing gently at the corner of Gustave's cheek, and he feels the warmth in his cheeks before he sees it, notices how he glances away. The corner of his mouth quirks up -- he's nervous. Nervous, embarrassed, unsure what to say when asked to tell him just what he'd do after he has his Monsieur le pianiste trapped against a door.
He can hear how anxious he when the words continue, like he's not just unsure but genuinely anticipating Verso being somehow unhappy or unsatisfied with this. And Verso laughs, the sound soft and breathless against his cheek but not at all mocking, one hand lifting to card through his hair, gentle, comforting, neatly avoiding that yellow flower still tucked behind his ear. The kiss he presses to his mouth is sweet and kind -- and still tinged with heat, by the way his teeth catches at his lower lip, by the quiet growl in his chest. ]
Okay.
[ Just a simple acceptance: He's not good at this. That's fine. That doesn't bother him, and if the look in his eyes is any indicator when he leans back a bit to look at him -- he might even like it. Still turned on, still on the edge of so much want it feels almost desperate, but smiling, too. Amused. Fond. Something deeply aching shining through his gaze. He's had countless fantasies about this man over the years, and is perfectly aware that not all of them are grounded in reality -- but when he's so earnest, so sweet, so willing to open himself up to him, Verso may have already assumed that he might need to be the one to lead him into certain pastures. ]
-- You're really cute, like this. [ His voice rumbling so much it might as well be a purr, eyes lidded as his hands move up between them, taking this chance to work at Gustave's jacket and scarf, working to push them off of his shoulders completely. Yes, Verso had said he likes when he gets tongue-tied, and yes, Verso had meant it. Even here, even now, that wanting look in his gaze is evident, not just unaffected by his blunder but clearly charmed by it. ] We can always work on it, if you want.
[ Practice makes perfect -- but only if Gustave actually wants to. If he thinks he isn't good at it, would rather not, either, due to discomfort or otherwise -- Verso won't push it, not now, not later. Another sweeter kiss, soft and pressed to his cheek, just to reassure him of the truth of that -- and then already his lips are drifting back towards his ear. A low, rumbling murmur. ]
But, right now. [ A smirk. ] Do you want to keep hearing me?
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He stays close, kissing gently at the corner of Gustave's cheek, and he feels the warmth in his cheeks before he sees it, notices how he glances away. The corner of his mouth quirks up -- he's nervous. Nervous, embarrassed, unsure what to say when asked to tell him just what he'd do after he has his Monsieur le pianiste trapped against a door.
He can hear how anxious he when the words continue, like he's not just unsure but genuinely anticipating Verso being somehow unhappy or unsatisfied with this. And Verso laughs, the sound soft and breathless against his cheek but not at all mocking, one hand lifting to card through his hair, gentle, comforting, neatly avoiding that yellow flower still tucked behind his ear. The kiss he presses to his mouth is sweet and kind -- and still tinged with heat, by the way his teeth catches at his lower lip, by the quiet growl in his chest. ]
Okay.
[ Just a simple acceptance: He's not good at this. That's fine. That doesn't bother him, and if the look in his eyes is any indicator when he leans back a bit to look at him -- he might even like it. Still turned on, still on the edge of so much want it feels almost desperate, but smiling, too. Amused. Fond. Something deeply aching shining through his gaze. He's had countless fantasies about this man over the years, and is perfectly aware that not all of them are grounded in reality -- but when he's so earnest, so sweet, so willing to open himself up to him, Verso may have already assumed that he might need to be the one to lead him into certain pastures. ]
-- You're really cute, like this. [ His voice rumbling so much it might as well be a purr, eyes lidded as his hands move up between them, taking this chance to work at Gustave's jacket and scarf, working to push them off of his shoulders completely. Yes, Verso had said he likes when he gets tongue-tied, and yes, Verso had meant it. Even here, even now, that wanting look in his gaze is evident, not just unaffected by his blunder but clearly charmed by it. ] We can always work on it, if you want.
[ Practice makes perfect -- but only if Gustave actually wants to. If he thinks he isn't good at it, would rather not, either, due to discomfort or otherwise -- Verso won't push it, not now, not later. Another sweeter kiss, soft and pressed to his cheek, just to reassure him of the truth of that -- and then already his lips are drifting back towards his ear. A low, rumbling murmur. ]
But, right now. [ A smirk. ] Do you want to keep hearing me?