[ It is a bit like a fight, for Verso -- the constant guilt and measuring of tone and spiraling and everything else only ever quietens when he has something else to really focus on, when it's life or death, or when its heat and pleasure and want. Its not like he can't be gentle, soft, romantic, and while he hasn't known Gustave long enough to really know, it's not like he doesn't think he could be interested in him in that way. But this is a moment of weakness. Indulgence. Getting himself a taste of something he hasn't had a long, long while. And that tends to lend itself to a certain path of action, for Verso, at least.
Gustave's responses are everything. He's reactive, vocal, a live wire under his fingers and tongue. Verso looks at him like he's drinking in the sight of him, his hair already a mess, pupils wide and dilated, lips kiss-bruised, and just seeing the effect he has on the other man is in itself intoxicating. He leans into Gustave's touch, fingers at the back of his neck, thumb along his skin -- waits for the nods. The halting, but very clear affirmation. Keep going.
He lets his teeth catch against the pulse in Gustave's throat, soothing over the slight nick he leaves in his skin immediately with his tongue, keeps moving upwards until he's pressing another kiss to his lips. This one a bit lighter, sweet, a vehicle for the answer; ]
-- Okay.
[ His voice is breathy, rumbling deeper. Answering him with actual words, just so Gustave understands he's listening, he can tell him to slow down, keep going, stop. Right now, though, Gustave's message is clear, and Verso doesn't feel like talking. He actually does peel back from him, for just a moment, straightening back up to his full height, taking a moment to start to shrug his own jacket off of his shoulders, pausing somewhere in that movement to glance down at the flower tucked against his lapel. It's still there, barely, half of its petals crushed down, some purple stained against his jacket. His gaze flickers up to Gustave's almost apologetic, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. Oops.
The jacket gets shrugged off completely, falling to the ground behind him -- the rest of the flower might well survive. But Verso's moving back in again almost before the jacket even hits the floor, this time going straight for the side of his neck, heated open-mouth kisses trailing down over his skin. One hand tangles back through Gustave's hair, the other finding his waist, keeping him still against the frame behind him as he fits their hips together. ]
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Date: 2025-05-24 05:51 pm (UTC)Gustave's responses are everything. He's reactive, vocal, a live wire under his fingers and tongue. Verso looks at him like he's drinking in the sight of him, his hair already a mess, pupils wide and dilated, lips kiss-bruised, and just seeing the effect he has on the other man is in itself intoxicating. He leans into Gustave's touch, fingers at the back of his neck, thumb along his skin -- waits for the nods. The halting, but very clear affirmation. Keep going.
He lets his teeth catch against the pulse in Gustave's throat, soothing over the slight nick he leaves in his skin immediately with his tongue, keeps moving upwards until he's pressing another kiss to his lips. This one a bit lighter, sweet, a vehicle for the answer; ]
-- Okay.
[ His voice is breathy, rumbling deeper. Answering him with actual words, just so Gustave understands he's listening, he can tell him to slow down, keep going, stop. Right now, though, Gustave's message is clear, and Verso doesn't feel like talking. He actually does peel back from him, for just a moment, straightening back up to his full height, taking a moment to start to shrug his own jacket off of his shoulders, pausing somewhere in that movement to glance down at the flower tucked against his lapel. It's still there, barely, half of its petals crushed down, some purple stained against his jacket. His gaze flickers up to Gustave's almost apologetic, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. Oops.
The jacket gets shrugged off completely, falling to the ground behind him -- the rest of the flower might well survive. But Verso's moving back in again almost before the jacket even hits the floor, this time going straight for the side of his neck, heated open-mouth kisses trailing down over his skin. One hand tangles back through Gustave's hair, the other finding his waist, keeping him still against the frame behind him as he fits their hips together. ]