[ Verso can only shrug a bit helplessly -- no, he's never been curious. He may have wondered and tried to figure things out for himself, the first time he stumbled onto the Manor all those decades ago, but even then it'd mostly been in shock about why there would be another one and how much of it matches his memories and if anything would be different. He also simply isn't quite like Gustave, chasing down answers and explanations and specifics, as much as he does appreciate that about him.
He can see a quiet realization shifting across Gustave's expression. Something soft and affectionate, not quite enough to ease all of the uncertainty from him, but enough to put it aside. This time Gustave's the one to reach for his hand, and Verso feels a little flutter in his stomach and a quiet thrill, just to feel him close, just to have him reach out for him, his heart skipping a beat as their hands easily together. The touch doesn't feel quite mundane, yet, but it's starting to feel -- a little familiar, the slide of the calluses of Gustave's palms against his own, where his thumb settles just over his knuckle. Gustave's voice calling him mon cher just rolls over him like a warm blanket, and the sound of his voice, that sweet fondness and that first lights of a spark of heat, just draws him deeper into that warmth.
Maybe there'll be more questions to field. And really, Gustave probably does deserve more answers -- but it seems they're on the same page, with this, with what it could mean for them and the daydreams and fantasies they've shared with each other over the past days, with their desperate yearning in the past years of something they thought they'd never have. Verso feels something start to swell in his chest, some emotion he doesn't quite know how to give name to, and he smiles, warm, lifting their entangled hands, this time stepping back and dipping into a bit of a half-bow to lean down and kiss at the back of Gustave's hand. ]
Definitely not.
[ His fantasies had them going all around the house in all manner of ways, and certainly the kitchen wasn't left out, whether it was sharing a meal or some wine or him pushing Gustave down over the counter and pushing some of the tableware haphazardly to the floor. But most of it had involved other places, and so again he starts stepping backwards as he straightens, leading Gustave towards the door. ]
I'd just like to imagine -- [ a small smile, his shoulder catching the door behind him ] -- That after a long, hard day of watching you work, I could take you by the hand . . . And take you home.
[ He pushes the door open, pulling them both through it, and there's the Manor in all its splendor, high ceilings, polished floors, ornate and beautiful. It's always been a little uncanny, an empty echo of the home he knows, but this is also a whole lot closer to taking him home than Gustave could ever possibly know. Verso can almost imagine it, in the echoes of his older memories when his family still hadn't been quite literally fractured apart, memories that aren't quite actually his own. Clea moving past them, rolling her eyes but still giving Gustave a curious glance. Maman and papa, somewhere on the upper floor, calling out their welcome to their son's guest. Alicia, curious but shy, her scarred face just barely peeking through a gap in the library door.
So for this once, as eerie as the Manor is. He can imagine it warm and welcoming. A home enough for him to bring a sweetheart to, a home enough for them to share for one night they can have together. ]
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Date: 2025-06-19 08:52 pm (UTC)He can see a quiet realization shifting across Gustave's expression. Something soft and affectionate, not quite enough to ease all of the uncertainty from him, but enough to put it aside. This time Gustave's the one to reach for his hand, and Verso feels a little flutter in his stomach and a quiet thrill, just to feel him close, just to have him reach out for him, his heart skipping a beat as their hands easily together. The touch doesn't feel quite mundane, yet, but it's starting to feel -- a little familiar, the slide of the calluses of Gustave's palms against his own, where his thumb settles just over his knuckle. Gustave's voice calling him mon cher just rolls over him like a warm blanket, and the sound of his voice, that sweet fondness and that first lights of a spark of heat, just draws him deeper into that warmth.
Maybe there'll be more questions to field. And really, Gustave probably does deserve more answers -- but it seems they're on the same page, with this, with what it could mean for them and the daydreams and fantasies they've shared with each other over the past days, with their desperate yearning in the past years of something they thought they'd never have. Verso feels something start to swell in his chest, some emotion he doesn't quite know how to give name to, and he smiles, warm, lifting their entangled hands, this time stepping back and dipping into a bit of a half-bow to lean down and kiss at the back of Gustave's hand. ]
Definitely not.
[ His fantasies had them going all around the house in all manner of ways, and certainly the kitchen wasn't left out, whether it was sharing a meal or some wine or him pushing Gustave down over the counter and pushing some of the tableware haphazardly to the floor. But most of it had involved other places, and so again he starts stepping backwards as he straightens, leading Gustave towards the door. ]
I'd just like to imagine -- [ a small smile, his shoulder catching the door behind him ] -- That after a long, hard day of watching you work, I could take you by the hand . . . And take you home.
[ He pushes the door open, pulling them both through it, and there's the Manor in all its splendor, high ceilings, polished floors, ornate and beautiful. It's always been a little uncanny, an empty echo of the home he knows, but this is also a whole lot closer to taking him home than Gustave could ever possibly know. Verso can almost imagine it, in the echoes of his older memories when his family still hadn't been quite literally fractured apart, memories that aren't quite actually his own. Clea moving past them, rolling her eyes but still giving Gustave a curious glance. Maman and papa, somewhere on the upper floor, calling out their welcome to their son's guest. Alicia, curious but shy, her scarred face just barely peeking through a gap in the library door.
So for this once, as eerie as the Manor is. He can imagine it warm and welcoming. A home enough for him to bring a sweetheart to, a home enough for them to share for one night they can have together. ]