[ Gustave's attachment to his work would be charming and adorable if it wasn't also, in this moment, absolutely infuriating. And it still is endearing -- Verso can practically feel the way Gustave's fingers twitch when he looks back at the components all neatly laid out on the bench, like they just naturally want to go back to work, to what they know best. He's been working nonstop for these hours, and has never even gestured at stopping to take a break, and Verso has little doubt that if he weren't here Gustave would be finishing all this and then finding a few other improvements to add on and tweak and modify all the way until the gestrals actually come calling.
( He imagines Gustave spending long nights in his workshop in Lumiere, and in his mind, Verso already knows him well enough, even talks to him about his projects over dinner, that he knows which ones are more critical and which ones can be left for another time. He visits with wine, with coffee, with food, because Gustave just forgets if he isn't reminded. Sometimes he has to be convinced, other times he'd happily take a break with him for a somehow-still romantic meal shared under the workshop's flickering lamplights, and sometimes he might even persuade him up to the rooftop for fresh air as they eat. Sometimes Gustave would have to go back to work, and other times he'd simply want. to, and it'd be up to Verso with a smile and a kiss and probably more to gently coax him away. And sometimes, more forcibly coax him away. ) ]
Mon Monsieur le fleuriste. [ Muttered soft and low against his neck, one hand sliding up to his shoulder to just lightly tug on the material of his shirt -- with some buttons undone and the collar hanging loose, it slides easily to expose more skin, baring a shoulder. Verso's lips chase the material with kisses and nips, fond, adoring -- and absolutely hungry for a little more. His other arm snakes around his waist, again, fingers settling just over the front of his trousers, not starting to work to undo them, but certainly hinting at it. ] You've been working so hard, and you've done well.
[ And your Monsieur le pianiste has been waiting, so very, very patient. ]
I think, especially on a night that we might finally be able to share together -- [ a warm purr in his voice, lingering on the thought of it, of just being able to share a night like they've been yearning to since they found each other again ] -- you deserve some, ah. Time to yourself.
[ And by time to yourself, Verso does mean time with him, but he thinks Gustave would agree to that. ]
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Date: 2025-06-18 02:38 am (UTC)( He imagines Gustave spending long nights in his workshop in Lumiere, and in his mind, Verso already knows him well enough, even talks to him about his projects over dinner, that he knows which ones are more critical and which ones can be left for another time. He visits with wine, with coffee, with food, because Gustave just forgets if he isn't reminded. Sometimes he has to be convinced, other times he'd happily take a break with him for a somehow-still romantic meal shared under the workshop's flickering lamplights, and sometimes he might even persuade him up to the rooftop for fresh air as they eat. Sometimes Gustave would have to go back to work, and other times he'd simply want. to, and it'd be up to Verso with a smile and a kiss and probably more to gently coax him away. And sometimes, more forcibly coax him away. ) ]
Mon Monsieur le fleuriste. [ Muttered soft and low against his neck, one hand sliding up to his shoulder to just lightly tug on the material of his shirt -- with some buttons undone and the collar hanging loose, it slides easily to expose more skin, baring a shoulder. Verso's lips chase the material with kisses and nips, fond, adoring -- and absolutely hungry for a little more. His other arm snakes around his waist, again, fingers settling just over the front of his trousers, not starting to work to undo them, but certainly hinting at it. ] You've been working so hard, and you've done well.
[ And your Monsieur le pianiste has been waiting, so very, very patient. ]
I think, especially on a night that we might finally be able to share together -- [ a warm purr in his voice, lingering on the thought of it, of just being able to share a night like they've been yearning to since they found each other again ] -- you deserve some, ah. Time to yourself.
[ And by time to yourself, Verso does mean time with him, but he thinks Gustave would agree to that. ]