[ Verso is genuinely so focused on Gustave and making him feel good that his own pleasure, while a consideration, becomes more of a background hum, a pleasant buzz faded into the back in favor of Gustave's every gasp and shiver, every twitching muscle and quivering breath. He can feel the way he throbs in his hand, how his hips twitch as and arch up against him as he continues to talk, feeding heated words and images into Gustave's imagination, and he thrives on it.
Gustave wrapping his hand around him is enough to jar him out of it slightly, any word he was meaning to say next suddenly lost on a low moan, his head dropping to Gustave's shoulder. Warmth, friction, the pressure of a now familiar grip from a hand he's felt all over his body, under his mouth and tongue, seen gripped tight over a sword. His head spins, it takes a moment for Gustave's question to fully register. ]
-- Everywhere. [ He repeats, almost a little automatically as he pulls his thoughts back together enough to actually answer. A laugh, breathlessly lost against where he has his face tucked against Gustave's neck, his hips rolling and pressing into Gustave's touch. ] Anywhere. Any time.
[ His own hand, briefly faltering over Gustave from that momentary distraction, starts to move back into its former rhythm. Verso's mind is spinning, turning his head to kiss again at his neck, over old bruises, down to the dip of his throat, cursing softly under his breath before lifting himself up enough that he can look Gustave properly in the face. His free hand moves, shifting where his elbow is braced against the ground until his fingers can twist through Gustave's hair, using that grip to guide him so that they can actually look each other fully, matching his gaze with his own. Verso's eyes are dark, hungry, starved and wanting. ]
I'd let you have me any way you wanted.
[ Punctuated by a rough squeeze of his hand over him, fingers flexing along his length. ]
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Date: 2025-06-09 12:34 pm (UTC)Gustave wrapping his hand around him is enough to jar him out of it slightly, any word he was meaning to say next suddenly lost on a low moan, his head dropping to Gustave's shoulder. Warmth, friction, the pressure of a now familiar grip from a hand he's felt all over his body, under his mouth and tongue, seen gripped tight over a sword. His head spins, it takes a moment for Gustave's question to fully register. ]
-- Everywhere. [ He repeats, almost a little automatically as he pulls his thoughts back together enough to actually answer. A laugh, breathlessly lost against where he has his face tucked against Gustave's neck, his hips rolling and pressing into Gustave's touch. ] Anywhere. Any time.
[ His own hand, briefly faltering over Gustave from that momentary distraction, starts to move back into its former rhythm. Verso's mind is spinning, turning his head to kiss again at his neck, over old bruises, down to the dip of his throat, cursing softly under his breath before lifting himself up enough that he can look Gustave properly in the face. His free hand moves, shifting where his elbow is braced against the ground until his fingers can twist through Gustave's hair, using that grip to guide him so that they can actually look each other fully, matching his gaze with his own. Verso's eyes are dark, hungry, starved and wanting. ]
I'd let you have me any way you wanted.
[ Punctuated by a rough squeeze of his hand over him, fingers flexing along his length. ]