[ Again, Verso keeps doing these things, pushing right against the line -- and then pulling back. Testing the waters, seeing how Gustave might respond, fully aware that he's doing more than he should but unable to resist, and at the same time he's not doing enough. A coward, in a way. Doing just enough where he would need Gustave to not just answer but to cross the line, meet him more than halfway.
He tends to think he can get away with it, has been surprised when he can't, but this time, well. This time he's waiting for it. He pulls back deliberately slowly, lingering in that moment when Gustave seems caught completely off guard, giving him time to respond -- and he pulls back on purpose. Forcing Gustave to have to reach for him if he wants to keep him there.
And he does. Hurried, a little awkward, but very clear in intention. Verso lets him, leans into it, his breath catching slightly when he feels the other man's fingers twist through his hair, slightly cool metal as he Gustave grips his arm, as Gustave clearly, unambiguously, kisses him.
And just like that, there's a shift in Verso's demeanor. Immediate, like a switch being flipped: it seems all he needed was permission. He winds an arm around Gustave's waist, hand pressed to the small of his back, lifting the other man's body against his own. His other hand lifts to his cheek, cradling his jaw. Where his touches before were fleeting and featherlight, this is a firm, warm weight. Where everything before was more of a gentle question, this starts to edge into a hint of demand -- most of all in the way Verso kisses him back. Thumb soothing through scruff and against his beard to press into the hinge of his jaw, urging his lips to part further so he can tongue into his mouth, teeth catching against his lower lip. Warmth edging into heat, a quiet rumble in his throat, sounding in his chest like the gravel in his voice. ]
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He tends to think he can get away with it, has been surprised when he can't, but this time, well. This time he's waiting for it. He pulls back deliberately slowly, lingering in that moment when Gustave seems caught completely off guard, giving him time to respond -- and he pulls back on purpose. Forcing Gustave to have to reach for him if he wants to keep him there.
And he does. Hurried, a little awkward, but very clear in intention. Verso lets him, leans into it, his breath catching slightly when he feels the other man's fingers twist through his hair, slightly cool metal as he Gustave grips his arm, as Gustave clearly, unambiguously, kisses him.
And just like that, there's a shift in Verso's demeanor. Immediate, like a switch being flipped: it seems all he needed was permission. He winds an arm around Gustave's waist, hand pressed to the small of his back, lifting the other man's body against his own. His other hand lifts to his cheek, cradling his jaw. Where his touches before were fleeting and featherlight, this is a firm, warm weight. Where everything before was more of a gentle question, this starts to edge into a hint of demand -- most of all in the way Verso kisses him back. Thumb soothing through scruff and against his beard to press into the hinge of his jaw, urging his lips to part further so he can tongue into his mouth, teeth catching against his lower lip. Warmth edging into heat, a quiet rumble in his throat, sounding in his chest like the gravel in his voice. ]