[ His motion backwards is arrested — again, again, it keeps happening, that he falls away and Verso catches him — by fingers in his collar, and then he's being pulled forward and his hand comes up to catch himself, except Verso's already caught him. Again.
But this time the man keeps moving, tipping forward, and then his mouth is there, warm and gentle, almost the idea of a kiss more than the actual thing, but it still feels like Gustave has been jolted back into mid-air and into gravity's clutches again. The feeling in his stomach when Verso kisses the corner of his mouth and murmurs a few quiet words there can't be all that dissimilar to the sudden and inexorable thud of hitting the pavement. The one is almost equally shocking to the other, and for a moment it leaves him almost as incapacitated.
And then his own hands are coming up, too fast and more than a little awkward, reaching for Verso before the man can step away again. His right hand comes to the side of his head, fingers sinking into dark waves of hair and sliding against the curve of his skull; his left hand... can't quite reach that high that quickly and instead lands on Verso's upper arm, fingers gripping there, and now it's Gustave's turn to pull: Verso toward him or himself toward Verso, he's not sure.
What is sure is how he's tipping his head just slightly to meet Verso's mouth again, a kiss that's no longer just the idea of the thing but the thing itself, firm and warm and just a little awkward, the way he himself is.
He had a chance before and missed it. He's not missing it again. ]
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Date: 2025-05-24 03:11 pm (UTC)But this time the man keeps moving, tipping forward, and then his mouth is there, warm and gentle, almost the idea of a kiss more than the actual thing, but it still feels like Gustave has been jolted back into mid-air and into gravity's clutches again. The feeling in his stomach when Verso kisses the corner of his mouth and murmurs a few quiet words there can't be all that dissimilar to the sudden and inexorable thud of hitting the pavement. The one is almost equally shocking to the other, and for a moment it leaves him almost as incapacitated.
And then his own hands are coming up, too fast and more than a little awkward, reaching for Verso before the man can step away again. His right hand comes to the side of his head, fingers sinking into dark waves of hair and sliding against the curve of his skull; his left hand... can't quite reach that high that quickly and instead lands on Verso's upper arm, fingers gripping there, and now it's Gustave's turn to pull: Verso toward him or himself toward Verso, he's not sure.
What is sure is how he's tipping his head just slightly to meet Verso's mouth again, a kiss that's no longer just the idea of the thing but the thing itself, firm and warm and just a little awkward, the way he himself is.
He had a chance before and missed it. He's not missing it again. ]