[ Fighting the entire gestral village would, in fact, be a pain -- but Verso knows the gestrals well, and they know him, too. He'd probably be able to trick or convince some of them into giving up the arm in exchange for some idle favor or a couple of fights. But he'd certainly still like to sweep in valiantly and defend his Expeditioner from their unruly grasp. Gustave calling him his beau chevalier has him turning his head to muffle a small laugh against his chest, breathless, amused, and terribly fond. He's not much of a chevalier. But for Gustave, he could be. ]
For you, mon petit chou? [ A little bit of a push in his own 'revenge' against that nickname. ] I'd fight them all, even if Golgra herself was the one who came to wrench that arm away from you. It might just take a very long time to win.
[ But he'll manage it. Gustave is sweet and perfect beneath him, as always. Verso's pressed so close to him now, skin on skin, and he can feel almost every trembling muscle and tendon in his body as he arches up into his mouth, as his head falls back and he shivers and shakes just from Verso's attentions. He gives himself over to him so completely, so easily, and sometimes Verso still feels guilty, still feels selfish for wanting to have him and take him and call him his own when he knows he doesn't deserve it -- but right now, that feels far away. Right now, he'd like Gustave to be his. ]
Mm. [ Just a slow, thoughtful hum, deep in his throat and echoing in his chest as he presses that leg down between Gustave's thighs, a nice even pressure for him to push back against. Verso takes his time with sucking at that nipple and all but reveling in how sensitive Gustave clearly is, here, closing his eyes with an appreciative half-groan at Gustave's own touch, his hand everywhere over his back, curving over his ass, likes how that grip feels, firm with a distinct edge of something possessive. That hand against his stomach stays where he is, only just barely drifting lower, fingertips dipping further beneath his already dangerously low-slung trousers, opening his eyes again to look at him lazily through his lashes as he kisses at his clavicle. ] I suppose it might be.
[ He trails lazy kisses up from his chest to his neck and throat. He moves so easily with a kind of languid grace, eyes lidded and his pupils completely blown beneath them, a cat that's caught its prey and and is taking its sweet time to savor it. The sound in his chest is almost a purr as he finally reaches Gustave's mouth, not quite kissing him fully but just brushing his lips up against the corner of Gustave's own, curved into lazy, teasing smile.
There's something about how languid and relaxes he is here in all of his movements, a genuine heat and all-consuming want in his gaze and his touch even if there's no urgency to it. It makes it feel almost familiar, like he knows he can take his time ( when in reality he really, really can't ) to pour himself over Gustave like a liquid and cover him completely, like instead of some stolen late evening in the middle of the forest he's waking up in one morning out of hundreds they've already shared and leaning over him in bed to piece him apart.
But it is still Verso, who's shown before that all that can change all at once like a switch has been flipped. And he seems to be waiting for something. His voice is soft, almost whispered, teasing; ]
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Date: 2025-06-13 04:34 pm (UTC)For you, mon petit chou? [ A little bit of a push in his own 'revenge' against that nickname. ] I'd fight them all, even if Golgra herself was the one who came to wrench that arm away from you. It might just take a very long time to win.
[ But he'll manage it. Gustave is sweet and perfect beneath him, as always. Verso's pressed so close to him now, skin on skin, and he can feel almost every trembling muscle and tendon in his body as he arches up into his mouth, as his head falls back and he shivers and shakes just from Verso's attentions. He gives himself over to him so completely, so easily, and sometimes Verso still feels guilty, still feels selfish for wanting to have him and take him and call him his own when he knows he doesn't deserve it -- but right now, that feels far away. Right now, he'd like Gustave to be his. ]
Mm. [ Just a slow, thoughtful hum, deep in his throat and echoing in his chest as he presses that leg down between Gustave's thighs, a nice even pressure for him to push back against. Verso takes his time with sucking at that nipple and all but reveling in how sensitive Gustave clearly is, here, closing his eyes with an appreciative half-groan at Gustave's own touch, his hand everywhere over his back, curving over his ass, likes how that grip feels, firm with a distinct edge of something possessive. That hand against his stomach stays where he is, only just barely drifting lower, fingertips dipping further beneath his already dangerously low-slung trousers, opening his eyes again to look at him lazily through his lashes as he kisses at his clavicle. ] I suppose it might be.
[ He trails lazy kisses up from his chest to his neck and throat. He moves so easily with a kind of languid grace, eyes lidded and his pupils completely blown beneath them, a cat that's caught its prey and and is taking its sweet time to savor it. The sound in his chest is almost a purr as he finally reaches Gustave's mouth, not quite kissing him fully but just brushing his lips up against the corner of Gustave's own, curved into lazy, teasing smile.
There's something about how languid and relaxes he is here in all of his movements, a genuine heat and all-consuming want in his gaze and his touch even if there's no urgency to it. It makes it feel almost familiar, like he knows he can take his time ( when in reality he really, really can't ) to pour himself over Gustave like a liquid and cover him completely, like instead of some stolen late evening in the middle of the forest he's waking up in one morning out of hundreds they've already shared and leaning over him in bed to piece him apart.
But it is still Verso, who's shown before that all that can change all at once like a switch has been flipped. And he seems to be waiting for something. His voice is soft, almost whispered, teasing; ]
Would you like me to stop, then?
[ :') ]