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[personal profile] demainvient

 
๐”๐ง ๐ฃ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ฃ๐ž ๐ฌ๐ž๐ซ๐š๐ข ๐๐ž ๐ซ๐ž๐ญ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐žฬ€๐ฌ ๐๐ž ๐ญ๐จ๐ข
๐‘ˆ๐‘› ๐‘—๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘Ÿ ๐‘—๐‘’ ๐‘“๐‘’๐‘Ÿ๐‘Ž๐‘– ๐‘ก๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘ก, ๐‘๐‘œ๐‘ข๐‘Ÿ ๐‘’ฬ‚๐‘ก๐‘Ÿ๐‘’ ๐‘Ž๐‘ฃ๐‘’๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘œ๐‘–
 

Date: 2025-06-18 01:53 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (005)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso doesn't blame Gustave for being skeptical. Knowing a place could be anything: just making a joke about one of his first ideas which was just taking the time to set up camp somewhere, setting out a bedroll, a decent shelter, maybe some flowers, ramshackle but heartfelt. He'd also considered pulling a favor with the gestrals themselves -- gestral accomodations aren't exactly robust, but they're still a structure, a shelter, and some unused gestral house would be better than nothing, surely, a curtain drawn over the entryway. It'd taken him walking around the village to remember he even had another option: a space he has access to but doesn't normally like using as his own, because it . . . Feels strange to do so, and because its one occupant is more than a little uncomfortable.

But the curator for now has moved on to stay with the Expedition. Verso's already made use of the manor a bit more because of that, a convenient transportation in some places, and. One chance he and Gustave have of using an actual bed. ]


You know how you imagined taking me to an old abandoned hotel? It's a bit like that.

[ Verso laughs a little, a sheepish half-shrug, he knows it sounds a bit ridiculous, given where they are. But also not too unthinkable: even if Gustave has yet to see Old Lumiere, all across the Continent there are sometimes just... entire buildings scattered out from the Fracture, remnants of city blocks, a piece of a town square. The idea that he's maybe found an old hotel of some kind that might be accessible, if maybe tilted at an uncomfortable angle, isn't too unthinkable. ]

It's best to just show you, I think.

[ And Verso does think you'd like it, if maybe be confused by it, but ultimately it'd be a warm bed, and -- there's part of him, wistful and sentimental, that would just like to pretend at being able to bring Gustave home. A different world, a different life. If he'd made some different decisions, if the world wasn't what it was, if Verso wasn't who he was.

He lingers there, just enjoying Gustave's presence, his touch, comfortable and familiar like they've done this so many times before as he sways closer to steal a quick kiss, his fingers playing lightly with his hair. ]


-- I promise its not a Sakapatate.
Edited Date: 2025-06-18 01:53 pm (UTC)

Date: 2025-06-18 03:25 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (013)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso lets himself be pushed back, smiling fondly and leaning back against some nearby furniture as he watches Gustave pack -- its almost as interesting as watching him actually work. Practiced hands, neat and efficient, moving around the workspace he's already been organizing as he worked, a well-organized toolkit where everything clearly has its proper slot. The day Gustave might ever see Verso at work writing or working aside from just playing, or if he sees him just practicing, his own rather more -- haphazard processes might horrify him a little, Verso thinks, but he thinks that fondly, wants him to see, sometime. To share a little more of his life ( or what his life might've been ), like Gustave's sharing a bit of his own, here.

And especially when he circles back to those flowers. Verso can feel a bit of pink rising in his cheeks, and thankfully Gustave's not looking at him right now. The flowers were a bit -- impulsive, sentimental. He'd done what he could to get the gestrals to prepare for Gustave's arrival, and then he'd had time to kill as the Expedition made their way to the village. He knows of a few clearings in the Crimson Forest where those purple flowers bloomed, and he'd found himself wandering there, finding a delicate butter-yellow flower, staring at them together as he held them in his hands, freshly plucked.

Gustave takes them, clearly careful, and when he flips open what Verso guesses must be his journal ( he's seen him writing in it from time to time in the past weeks ), Verso does think to himself he should look away, but -- can't help but be curious. And he leans in just enough to catch a few glimpses of things that have his heart skipping in his beat, leaping into his throat: he sees the other yellow flower first, and that gives him context for what a small faded note might be, even if he can't quite catch the writing from here. And a photograph, old but well-kept, a woman that Verso isn't sure he recognizes. Someone from Lumiere whose face Verso probably never knew to remember, someone dear to him, clearly, and absurdly Verso feels a pang of something in his chest, something that feels like jealousy.

Stupid. He -- shouldn't ask about it. But when Gustave tucks his things away and looks back up at Verso, he might still be able to see the remnants of color dusting on his cheeks, even as he tries to play it off. He smiles, a little lopsided and sly, reaching out to take Gustave's right hand in his own, threading their fingers together and lifting it to his lips to brush a kiss against his knuckles. ]


It's not far.

[ But it's a bit of a walk. And as he gently tugs Gustave by the hand outside, into the night air of the gestral village, where there are definitely still gestrals running around -- Verso doesn't seem as fussed about not being seen. The gestrals already know he's here, and he's tried to tell them to be secretive, but he already knows the risks with that. He does seem to try to urge them towards a quieter path, apparently knowing the village very well, but -- he'd thought about this beforehand, too.

It's not Lumiere. But for a few moments they could almost pretend it is, maybe. Walking hand-in-hand along an old cobblestone street, the gentle glow of lights around them, the cool night air and the buzzing anticipation of an evening together as they walk close enough their shoulders brush, as Verso squeezes Gustave's hand in his own, thumb stroking against his hand like he's reminding himself that he's really, really here. ]


-- I really do like watching you work, you know. [ A soft murmur, a small smile. ] I know you won't believe me, but I could've stayed there all day.

[ It wasn't boring at all! ]

Date: 2025-06-18 11:46 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (052)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso laughs, his voice quiet, leaned in close. ]

It's less about enjoying cannon components and ignition mechanisms and more about watching mon ingรฉnieur do something he loves, Gustave. [ Something he loves, thrives in, and clearly feels at home doing, something that has defined most of his life in Lumiere in a way that Verso can never hope to know or be a part of, something that seems so natural to his hands as breathing is to his lungs. It'd only been a few hours but he feels like he's seen so much more of Gustave than he'd ever seen before, like he could see him in every single little mechanical piece he'd so delicately fashioned. ] I imagine it's -- not unlike you watching me play music.

[ Not quite the same, he knows. One is more distinctly a performance, and he's sure to Gustave that the comparison might seem absurd. But they're both expressions of themselves, ways in which they've found to pour their souls out into world. In that, Verso thinks, when he's sitting there watching him and leaning in to peer curiously over the shoulder, the look in his eyes probably isn't too different from what he remembers of Gustave, sitting next to him on the piano bench, eyes wide and swept away.

As for the girls, well. Verso could easily make up something here: He's prepared, he's not that afraid, no one will see them. But instead he just squeezes Gustave's hand in answer, even as he guides them down a slightly quieter path. ]


I am worried, yeah. Just --

[ He glances at him, a bit sheepish, a one-shouldered shrug, giving Gustave's hand another gentle squeeze, thumb brushing over a knuckle. He is worried about it. He is aware there's a non-zero chance. He's been careful, knows where the girls have said they'd be, has even asked some favors from gestrals to make sure they're occupied, and the moment he does see them he is prepared to let go of Gustave's hand and slip away.

But it's a risk. Just one he decided he's willing to take, to hold Gustave's hand and walk quietly beside him for this short walk -- but its a much too short one. They're already winding their way somewhere a little outside of the village, past a gestral standing guard that Verso doesn't even bother acknowledging as they move past, towards a strange, ornate door. It looks entirely unlike any of the gestral architecture, though that in itself isn't unusual, with how many things are scattered across the fractured Continent. It looks almost built into the rocky cliff, a stone carved archway, an ornate wooden door within it -- and if Gustave thinks far enough back, it might look distinctly familiar, a door in a hut with weird corals. ]

Date: 2025-06-19 03:24 am (UTC)
versorecto: (012)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso had been braced for this, to Gustave to have questions, to want to know where he'd found all this and what it all means. He's prepared to tell him some truths, and not others. Even knowing what it's modelled on and having clear memories of living in that home, Verso has no idea why there's a version of the manor that exists disconnected from reality itself, only has theories on how it exists and what it could be. He doesn't know why the doors are scattered throughout the world, and he generally avoided them except for when they could actively be used -- the Curator was amore than enough of a deterrent, even though he also knew relying on the Curator for Maelle was his best bet.

But there's a lot he also he knows that he can't tell him, or would really rather not have to. Briefly he considers playing at surprise that Gustave might recognize the door, but -- no. It's probably okay. And sometimes, especially with Gustave, he just wants to let go of some of the damn lies. He's so tired. He just wants to be with him.

He shoots him a smile. ]


I've been around the Continent for a long time, Gustave.

[ Sixty-seven years. He's scoured just about every corner of the place just in time. ]

What's past here is a little weird, but . . . [ He turns to face Gustave fully, lifting their hands, pressing a kiss to the back of Gustave's, brushing over his knuckles. ] I don't know if we're gonna get another chance.

So just -- trust me?

[ His lips curve into a slightly more lopsided smile where they're still pressed against the back of Gustave's hand. Verso glances a bit at the gestral guard nearby, still staring off towards the village -- the gestrals are used to him, at least, know generally to leave him alone. And then he takes a step back, backing himself into the door, reaching for the handle. He pushes it open, stepping back into it, pulling Gustave with him --

-- Into a kitchen. A large one, of the size that it could almost be the kitchen of a sizable restaurant, rows of counters and sinks. There's pots and pans scattered everywhere, tableware and cutlery, and it would seem lived in and well-used if it wasn't also distinctly empty. Yet there's no real settling of dust. It's a little like this was a busy kitchen, bustling with staff, and everyone in it simply suddenly Gommaged, leaving their work behind, frozen in time.

And while this is all clearly incredibly strange, Verso seems utterly unfazed, more focused on their clasped hands, his gaze trained on Gustave's. ]
Edited Date: 2025-06-19 03:25 am (UTC)

Date: 2025-06-19 04:02 am (UTC)
versorecto: (046)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Anticipating the questions and confusion and being braced to answer them is not quite the same as actually being ready. It doesn't help that while Verso does have a set of lies he falls back on, he still just doesn't like to think them out particularly well or thoroughly, prefers to just -- skate by, distract them, there's always something else to think about with everything that the Expeditions are often dealing with. But of course, Verso realizes, with a flicker in his eyes, that Gustave might be much less willing to let go when the last thing he associates with the manor is Maelle.

There's a quiet tension in Verso's body, noticeable now. It does lessen when the door falls shut behind Gustave with a quiet thud, and Verso knows now they can't be easily followed, but some of that tension just remains. It's subtle, but present, and Gustave has gotten a real knack for noticing whenever he's holding something of himself back, and Verso works his jaw slightly, a nervous gesture, as he continues stepping back through the kitchen, gently pulling Gustave with him. ]


This connects to a manor, yeah.

[ Still not willing to fully engage with acknowledging why he knows that Gustave might recognize the place. ]

I really can't tell you -- what the place is, or why it's here. I've been finding doors to it since the Fracture happened.

[ A definite truth. ]

But it's safe here. [ Maelle would've been safe here, under the Curator's care. He doesn't want to acknowledge that directly, doesn't want to give Gustave enough to pin him down, but he can acknowledge some of the facts around it, maybe. ] We can even have something to drink, some of the food. I've done that before.

[ Do you want some water, Gustave. ]

Date: 2025-06-19 03:24 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (021)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ These are all good questions, and Verso does want to answer what he can, but it's a lot all at once. He tries, though, still tense and unsure, guiding Gustave with him further through the kitchen. He stops at some point, letting go, breaking eye contact with him like he can't quite bear up under the weight of his gaze and all those questions at once, glancing through the nearby shelves.

Water. Right? Gustave seems thirsty. In those long hours watching him work, Verso had considered slipping away a few times just to bring him food or water. He reaches for a glass, strangely nervous. Is it just all the questions? Is it because they're more than he bargained for? Is it just because it really does feel a bit like bringing Gustave home, and that's just a little nerve-wracking? ]


I don't know what Renoir knows. but he's never been here. [ And he won't be, Verso is quite sure. It's mostly the Curator's influence that would've kept Renoir at bay, and there is a greater risk now that the Curator isn't simply here. This place seems to be more of the canvas itself than something maman has painted, as far as Verso understands. Why else would she and the rest of his family have a manor of their own, instead of using this? ] Something about this place keeps him away, and the nevrons, too.

[ An oversimplification, more than a lie, but. He goes to a nearby sink, reaching for the tap, turning it, testing the water with his hands. Gently cool to the touch. He doesn't know what keeps everything in the manor working, knows only that it does, and he rinses out the glass he's picked out, eyes still away from Gustave. ]

I've stayed here myself sometimes over the years, even for days at a time. [ Also not untrue. The Curator was always the main force that kept him uneasy, but sometimes the Curator wasn't here, and other times over the years he'd just been desperate for something that resembled an actual bed. But the memories that linger here are strange and disjointed, and whatever comfort he got from a physical bed would often be outweighed by the strange discomfort after too long. ] I've never been in any danger, and no one else has come here.

But there are quite a few doors spread throughout the Continent. You can't just leave from the Manor to any of those doors, and leaving the Manor always puts you back where you entered it from.

[ So it might, technically, open them up to more vectors of attack, but Verso isn't sure if the space could even be accessed from more than one door at a time. It's never really been an issue to find out, before now. He fills the glass with some water, turns and hesitantly offers it to Gustave, his expression a little cowed but with something genuinely gentle and affectionate in it. ]

Here. Please, mon chou, you've been working for hours and hours. I feared you'd forget to eat or drink if I let you kept going.

Date: 2025-06-19 05:34 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (012)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Of all things, he really didn't expect Gustave to lighten the pressure of his insistent questions by being distracted by -- plumbing. He disappears so quickly into a crouch to peer through the cabinet that Verso is for a moment just caught off guard, still a bit thrown off by the time Gustave straightens to take the glass from his hand. He blinks, glancing between Gustave and the sink -- and he just laughs.

It's warm and achingly fond, his sweet ingรฉnieur, inquisitive and bright and relentless in chasing down answers -- at least until he's distracted by other questions. Just like that he finds that tension he's carrying with him melting out of his shoulders, and he moves closer to settle his hand against Gustave's side, leaning in to brush a kiss to his cheek. ]


-- You're really cute.

[ The softest murmur, gentle against his skin, and he lingers there for a few moments before he pulls away. ]

I'm gonna be honest, it's never occurred to me to find out. A lot of things on the Continent don't seem to operate by any real logic, and I've gotten used to it. [ Maman's chroma, what's left of the canvas' original painter, all of it seems to blend into something chaotic and dreamlike in so many places. Lumiere itself made more sense. The further they get from it, the less things hold. Verso's been out here so long that he's used to it, by now, especially when he understands the truth of what the world really is. ] We can investigate it together, if you'd like, but it's not really what I had in mind for the evening.

[ But maybe his imagined romantic evening being derailed into a detailed investigation of the Manor's systems would really only be fitting, for someone like Gustave. Verso honestly wouldn't even entirely mind, if only he still succeeds at pulling him into bed later, gets to lay him out and show him just how much he appreciates his adorable little engineer and all of his bright-eyed curiosity.

He nods at the glass of water. ]


-- But I kind of have to insist that you drink at least something.

[ please gustave ]

Date: 2025-06-19 08:52 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (038)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ 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. ]

Date: 2025-06-19 11:21 pm (UTC)
versorecto: (030)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso shrugs a little helplessly, lingering a little by the stairwell as Gustave runs his fingers along the bannister. He could imagine this conversation happening in some shades in his dreams, too, after some careful courting and back-and-forth, Gustave letting himself be taken to Verso's home, only to be surprised he's being led through gardens and a courtyard to a massive mansion. Even in his not-memories and distant recollections, the Manor is decadent compared to everything around it. There must've been other families more like theirs, especially in Old Lumiere, but maman had never mad them real. Perhaps she had little reason to.

The luxury is a distant memory, anyway. ]


That's my best guess, yeah. Old Lumiรจre must've had more houses like these, and this one was caught in the Fracture in some strange way that made it -- like this. [ He gestures around them with his free hand. ] That in some reality the whole place has been torn apart with the doors scattered everywhere, and yet when you open one.

[ You end up here. Gently, he starts to lead Gustave upstairs, and he nods. ]

I've used this place for myself every now and then throughout the decades, and I've never seen anyone else. Only the Curator, who sometimes just seemed to come and go for his own reasons.

[ Whom Gustave is now acquainted with. The easiest way he can sell this lie is that the Curator had somehow rescued Maelle himself, taken her into his care. He lingers a little on the landing of the staircase before gently moving on -- its clear he has a specific room in mind. ]

I know it feels -- strange. [ Their words, their every footstep, echoes a little too loudly and too clearly through all the wood and polished marble. Something in the air is simply too still. This place does feel like as much of home as Verso can remember, but it doesn't feel right. Too empty, too silent. ] But I just thought . . .

[ It's nice. It's comfortable. It's real bed, among other things. ]
Edited Date: 2025-06-19 11:34 pm (UTC)

Date: 2025-06-20 12:31 am (UTC)
versorecto: (011)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ Verso is definitely anxious. He thinks this is a good gesture, at the end of the day, or he's quite sure it is: a genuine intent to give them somewhere special. Their first ( and maybe only, for all he knows the rest of their time together might go ) night together, anything would've been memorable, and would've been in its own way perfect. A night under the stars, by a quiet, makeshift camp . . . But once this had come to mind, especially when some part of Verso can't help but think of the Manor as at least some version of his home, he couldn't shake it from his thoughts.

But it's strange, a little eerie, filled with mysteries and questions. He wouldn't have blamed Gustave for maybe preferring to only stay a while and then to step away elsewhere to rest, or for agreeing to go along with him but end up feeling -- off, uncomfortble. But as always, Gustave seems to know whenever he wanders off into his mind into quiet spirals and anxieties, even if he doesn't always know exactly where they come from ( there's so much truth in these walls that Verso can't afford for him to find out about, this is awful and risky for his own ambitions, and yet ). Gustave is squeezing his hand, smiling at him, sweet and kind -- and then shifting into something a little mischievous.

Verso regards that look with some curiosity, and then Gustave mentions a bath, and. Oh. There's a flicker of something across his eyes, and Gustave might be able to see it, how he's immediately picturing it in his mind's eye: two of them sharing a bath, all tangled up in each other, with nothing between them but skin and the water. Standing next to a made and ready bath, Verso slowly peeling off all of Gustave's clothes, piece by piece, finally seeing him completely naked and bare, leaning into kiss everything he can reach. His own hands running over him, lathering soap, following the lean muscle of his shoulders, his chest . . . ]


-- Yes. [ Said almost too quickly, eagerly. He laughs, a bit at himself, sheepish, but the look in his eyes is definitely warm and heated and definitely sly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. ] Yeah. Definitely. The bath would work.

[ He's used it himself from time to time, but has gotten a bit used to the rivers and lakes around the Continent -- it's been at least months, probably longer. And with company . . . He squeezes Gustave's hand, taking a turn across the landing. He knows the place well and where the rooms all are, it seems. ]

I remember. [ A little petulant, playfully so, leaning in to press a light kiss to his jaw. ] Even if you only decided to wash up after we had to part ways, for the night . . . More than a little unfair, if you ask me.

[ How dare Gustave, honestly, it was a slight that Verso still remembers. He's walking a little faster now, tugging Gustave with him across to a certain door. ]

Date: 2025-06-20 01:28 am (UTC)
versorecto: (038)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ He's been very patient. Genuinely enjoying watching Gustave work, but also very, very patient, resisting every temptation he had to slip closer and interrupt him even though he knew it probably wouldn't be too difficult to do so, even though he could just picture wrapping an arm around him by the waist and picking him up, parking him on the edge of the workbench and pulling his legs around him. He had to resist, because if he was going to get Gustave away from the workshop at all he'd need to have at least most of the work done, and with the time they finally had tonight, he wasn't about to waste it.

Verso laughs, again turning around so he can look at Gustave as he steps backwards and leads him, clearly familiar enough with the space to do so. His eyes are lidded as he leans back against a door, catching it with his shoulder, squeezing Gustave's hand tightly in his own. ]


I think I deserve all of your time and attention tonight, mon fleuriste.

[ And Gustave, of course, would deserve nothing less in turn.

He shifts his free hand to open the door, pushing it open with his back and shoulder, stepping inside. It's a nice bathroom, ornate and tiled, a small vanity off to the side, a sink with a massive mirror, and a long, spacious bathtub. It's warmly lit like everything else in the manor, amber-toned lamps and gentle light from the windows, and its also decorated, vases full of flowers, paintings hanging on the walls. There's towels hanging from the racks, soap, candles. All strangely untouched and unused, again a place that feels -- empty, but.

It's not empty anymore, as Verso steps inside, pulling Gustave with him to the middle of the room, across the tile and carpet and wrapping him up in his arms to pull him into a kiss. ]

Date: 2025-06-20 02:18 am (UTC)
versorecto: (004)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ All his anxiety and uncertainty about how all this would be received, how he wants the night for them to be perfect, all of it vanishes once he kisses him and Gustave kisses him back. It doesn't matter where they go from here, he thinks. Its already perfect, already everything he could want to just have Gustave here with him, to have hours and hours ahead of them instead of the precious few that they've been able to steal with each other so far. Still not enough time, but an utter luxury compared to before. He'd have savored every minute of it even if they were still in that workshop smelling of dust and sweat, and here with the whole manor to themselves, he'll be all but basking in it.

Gustave literally drops everything else he was holding just to lift his hands to his head, and Verso leans into it as much as he can, his arms wrapped tight around his waist to haul him as close to his body as he can, fitting them together so closely and perfectly, feeling the heat of Gustave's body thrum against his own. He loves the sound of his voice, aching and wanting, the stream of heated French pouring right into his heart and soul and setting the very core of him alight.

The only thing that forces him to eventually just barely pull away and get a little bit of space between them is the fact that it's necessary to start to work at their clothes. It's reluctant, but he does unwind from him slightly, his eyes dark with want even as they crinkle slightly with a breathless smile as he looks at him. He's spent all so many hours in that workshop undressing him with his eyes, and now. ]


Anything? [ A bit of a growl, teasing, his hands running up and down Gustave's sides -- not having to fuss with the jacket and those straps is, too, a luxury, and how he looks in just the shirt and waistcoat is something that, do Verso at least, borders on sinful, with how close it fits to his body, how it clings to his skin from sweat. He leans forward for another kiss, brief but wanting and sharp, teeth tugging at his lower lip. ] Thankfully, Gustave, all I want is you --

-- Vous tous.

[ Everything. All of him. Nothing more. Nothing less. He pulls at the buttons of Gustave's waistcoat, and its clear that part of him wants to go slowly, wants to really savor this and take his time to sensually peel his fleuriste apart, but the rest of him is impatient, desperate, only barely being held back. He manages a somewhat measured pace, even as he licks his lower lip, helping to shrug off his coat once Gustave is done with the buckles. ]

Please do.

[ Start the water, run it slow, and then they can take their time with this, maybe -- or as much time as they can stand to take. He's undressed Gustave before, of course, but stripping him down completely bare still remains a quiet fantasy, and one that he wants to enjoy coming true. ]
Edited (urggggg) Date: 2025-06-20 02:34 am (UTC)

Date: 2025-06-20 02:59 am (UTC)
versorecto: (036)
From: [personal profile] versorecto
[ That kiss like every other kiss is perfect, all this emotion crashing into each other along with the heat of Gustave's lips and tongue against his own, but it has to stop, much like everything else has to. Gustave pulls away with the same aching reluctance that Verso himself feels, and he takes quiet solace and satisfaction in how he can hear the breathlessness in his voice, in how Gustave's eyes shamelessly trail down over his body, how plainly he wishes they didn't have to be apart even for these few moments.

But finally, Gustave takes a step away, and there's a bit more space between them, a bit more time for his own breath to return and for his mind to clear, even if it's still filled with heady fog and want, how he can't think much past getting Gustave back in his arms again. He looks around, briefly catching his own reflection in the mirror, considering how mussed he is, if he could just shrug off his own shirt, and -- no. Why would he do that? Better to let Gustave do it, to feel his fingers work at every part of his clothing, better to let himself be quietly unraveled just like he wants to pull at Gustave with his own hands.

He's already moving closer to Gustave, and the question, unexpected, causes him to stop.

The answer is, simply: Yes. There is a piano. In his room, or the empty echo of it, whatever this strange place is, there's a door that leads to old forgotten things that he was meant to put aside as he grew. Old toys and playthings, trainsets and books, and a piano. Its a memory of the piano he had in his youth, different from the one he'd taken away from the manor that he actually remembers living in, that he has stored away in pictos pressed into his bare skin. This piano is older, a different character, he can still remember the notes. Not as clear and sweet as the one he used later in life, but its the one he fell in love with, as a child. He misses it.

He does want to take him to his bedroom. He'd been quite sure he didn't want to take him into that room. Surely there being a piano next to a room like that, with enough small touches that Gustave might be able to connect them to him, would be a step too incriminating. Surely the toys scattered around that room would only invite more questions and vulnerability than he's actually willing to have. Surely its too much of a risk, one step too far when all of this is already several steps too far, when he's already plunged so many of his plans into the abyss just from wanting to be close to him.

And Gustave asks, so haltingly but with clear earnestness, and -- ]


-- Yeah. [ He answers before he realizes it. He hears the word falling from his lips, and he can't help but laugh at himself. Putain de merde, Gustave doesn't even understand the hold he has on him, how tightly he has a grip over his will and his heart. ] I think there is.

[ Maybe he can just -- take them somewhere else, summon his piano from pictos there. Maybe they can go into that room. He'll . . . Have to think about it. Or more likely, given how thought seems to slip from his mind whenever Gustave is near, he must just have to see where his heart carries them. ]
Edited Date: 2025-06-20 03:14 am (UTC)

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From: [personal profile] versorecto - Date: 2025-06-20 03:49 am (UTC) - Expand

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