[ Verso's fingers grip through his hair and he spends a wild second wondering if that flower finally fell out, if he's going to have to go looking for it laterā€” but then Verso's leaning back, just like he coaxed him to do, and it sends a little encouraging thrill through him. Maybe this won't turn out so badly, after all.
In fact, Verso seems to be enthusiastically playing along, listening intently, even adding to the fantasy by placing himself in it, an unexpected bonus that hits with surprising intensity. All this time, he'd only ever been able to imagine Verso's reactions, what he might say, do, how he would feel. And now Verso is here, sliding easily into this well-worn daydream, making it feel more real than it ever had. Picturing himself in it, with Gustave.
His heart stutters at the thought, and for a moment he leans in to set his mouth over Verso's nipple, drawing up on it and laving with the flat of his tongue, half to try and make him feel as good as possible, half to try and settle the whirl of his own head.
It doesn't help that he's getting to the crux of the fantasy, the things he would want to do. Even with Verso's easy, enthusiastic encouragement, he feels warmth climbing up the back of his neck, his stomach knotting now from self-consciousness instead of electric desire.
But he wants to try. He does want to try. He runs his hand down along Verso's side to his hip, starts dragging at the already loose waist of his pants, tugging them down. ]
It's beenā€” it's been so long, I'd justā€” I'd want to taste you, feel you... let you see me, watch me there, between your legs... months since the garden, and I'd want to, want to make it last, but I'd be so impatientā€”
[ He braces himself with his left hand as he leans further to kiss down along the perfect plane of Verso's stomach, down toward his navel as he finally drags those pants down enough that he can slip his hand between Verso's legs and curl his fingers around him, starting to stroke in long smooth motions. ]
You just, you carry me away, seeing you again, I'd wantā€” I'd want to make you, make you come for me right there.
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In fact, Verso seems to be enthusiastically playing along, listening intently, even adding to the fantasy by placing himself in it, an unexpected bonus that hits with surprising intensity. All this time, he'd only ever been able to imagine Verso's reactions, what he might say, do, how he would feel. And now Verso is here, sliding easily into this well-worn daydream, making it feel more real than it ever had. Picturing himself in it, with Gustave.
His heart stutters at the thought, and for a moment he leans in to set his mouth over Verso's nipple, drawing up on it and laving with the flat of his tongue, half to try and make him feel as good as possible, half to try and settle the whirl of his own head.
It doesn't help that he's getting to the crux of the fantasy, the things he would want to do. Even with Verso's easy, enthusiastic encouragement, he feels warmth climbing up the back of his neck, his stomach knotting now from self-consciousness instead of electric desire.
But he wants to try. He does want to try. He runs his hand down along Verso's side to his hip, starts dragging at the already loose waist of his pants, tugging them down. ]
It's beenā€” it's been so long, I'd justā€” I'd want to taste you, feel you... let you see me, watch me there, between your legs... months since the garden, and I'd want to, want to make it last, but I'd be so impatientā€”
[ He braces himself with his left hand as he leans further to kiss down along the perfect plane of Verso's stomach, down toward his navel as he finally drags those pants down enough that he can slip his hand between Verso's legs and curl his fingers around him, starting to stroke in long smooth motions. ]
You just, you carry me away, seeing you again, I'd wantā€” I'd want to make you, make you come for me right there.