[ He really must have been focused, not to pick up on Verso's meaning before, considering it's something they've talked about both as a wistful daydream from the past and as a luxury held just out of their reach here. Verso refuses to come to the camp and Gustave can't stay away; they've been at an impasse, snatching at the very most only an hour or two together before they have to fall apart again.
But now... and it isn't even that late, the girls had left him here in the evening, well before true nightfall, which gives them so much time it makes Gustave almost giddy to think about. Hours and hours, enough time to sleep, even, though he'd be just as tempted to stay awake the whole night through to be able to give his monsieur le pianiste all his focus, now that the project is (nearly) complete.
He lets Verso turn him again until they're standing like they had been before: Gustave leaning slightly back against the workbench, his hands coming to find the gentle dip at Verso's waist, over that purple sash that looks so dashing. Verso leans their foreheads together and he can feel the way it melts down his neck, into his shoulders and back, the muscles relaxing and softening just to be this close to him. ]
You know a place?
[ Amused and a little skeptical, but maybe he can be forgiven, considering their current location. ]
Does this village have some private hotel I missed seeing on the way in? They could probably repurpose a Sakapatate for one, honestly, they're big enough.
[ But those Verso's smiling and fond, he looks serious, and maybe it really isn't a joke. Gustave gives him a bemused look, thumbs running idly along the curve of his ribs, over the material of that Expedition uniform he still needs to ask about. ]
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But now... and it isn't even that late, the girls had left him here in the evening, well before true nightfall, which gives them so much time it makes Gustave almost giddy to think about. Hours and hours, enough time to sleep, even, though he'd be just as tempted to stay awake the whole night through to be able to give his monsieur le pianiste all his focus, now that the project is (nearly) complete.
He lets Verso turn him again until they're standing like they had been before: Gustave leaning slightly back against the workbench, his hands coming to find the gentle dip at Verso's waist, over that purple sash that looks so dashing. Verso leans their foreheads together and he can feel the way it melts down his neck, into his shoulders and back, the muscles relaxing and softening just to be this close to him. ]
You know a place?
[ Amused and a little skeptical, but maybe he can be forgiven, considering their current location. ]
Does this village have some private hotel I missed seeing on the way in? They could probably repurpose a Sakapatate for one, honestly, they're big enough.
[ But those Verso's smiling and fond, he looks serious, and maybe it really isn't a joke. Gustave gives him a bemused look, thumbs running idly along the curve of his ribs, over the material of that Expedition uniform he still needs to ask about. ]
Alright, I'll bite. Where?