[ That smug smirk never seems to be far from Verso's lips, always only a heartbeat from quirking into existence, and Gustave eyes it with a mixture of amusement and wariness. ]
What are you—
[ But the question is answered before he can even finish the words, as Verso pushes at the material of his shirt and starts working his way down the shaking line of Gustave's body, trailing fire in his wake. All Gustave can do is watch, his throat working, going dry, and thread the metal fingers of his left hand into the trellis behind him like he's bracing himself.
Cool air scuds over bared skin, kissing the tops of his thighs with an even more teasing touch than Verso himself, and Gustave shivers at the brush of his beard, rough and soft all at once, over flushed, sensitive skin, only to shudder hard as Verso ceases his mischief and turns to the task at hand, leaning in to slide him along the hot wet warmth of his tongue and into his mouth. ]
Verso.
[ His eyes squeeze shut involuntarily, metal fingers gripping the trellis so hard the wire bends. His other hand, shaking, palms the side of Verso's head, runs down his neck to his shoulder as Gustave marshals every last bit of control he has left to keep from simply rocking his hips mindlessly into that perfect wet heat.
It's an effort to open his eyes even halfway, pupils blown huge and dark and drugged with desire, but he wants to see, to watch, as much as Verso wants to watch him, even as the sight of Verso's mouth wrapped around him threatens to shove him over the cliff edge without even another moment's pause. A breathless curse falls from his lips as his breath catches, as melting heat threatens to overwhelm him. It's been so long and it feels so good— ]
no subject
What are you—
[ But the question is answered before he can even finish the words, as Verso pushes at the material of his shirt and starts working his way down the shaking line of Gustave's body, trailing fire in his wake. All Gustave can do is watch, his throat working, going dry, and thread the metal fingers of his left hand into the trellis behind him like he's bracing himself.
Cool air scuds over bared skin, kissing the tops of his thighs with an even more teasing touch than Verso himself, and Gustave shivers at the brush of his beard, rough and soft all at once, over flushed, sensitive skin, only to shudder hard as Verso ceases his mischief and turns to the task at hand, leaning in to slide him along the hot wet warmth of his tongue and into his mouth. ]
Verso.
[ His eyes squeeze shut involuntarily, metal fingers gripping the trellis so hard the wire bends. His other hand, shaking, palms the side of Verso's head, runs down his neck to his shoulder as Gustave marshals every last bit of control he has left to keep from simply rocking his hips mindlessly into that perfect wet heat.
It's an effort to open his eyes even halfway, pupils blown huge and dark and drugged with desire, but he wants to see, to watch, as much as Verso wants to watch him, even as the sight of Verso's mouth wrapped around him threatens to shove him over the cliff edge without even another moment's pause. A breathless curse falls from his lips as his breath catches, as melting heat threatens to overwhelm him. It's been so long and it feels so good— ]
Putain—