[ The only problem with doing this is that he can't get a good look at his face, and he does wish he could, wants to see those eyes filled with lust and pleasure, wants to see his mouth falling open around every gasp and moan. But in exchange, he has a dozen other things, and merde its more than worth it. He can feel it when watching him start to touch himself has something pulsing in Gustave's body, in the way his hips jerk and his thighs tremble on either side of him, his fingers tightening against his cheek. He can feel the mounting desperation and need in his every movement, every buck of his hips against his mouth. He can feel it and taste it on his tongue, throbbing pulses the close rand closer he gets, how he stretches his lips, his throat.
And fuck, he loves it when he says his name. Especially like that, when it doesn't even sound like he's calling him, when it just sounds like the only thing he can think to say, when he tumbles on over and in the mess of his thoughts as he's overwhelmed by the heat and pleasure the only thing he can do is curse and call his name.
When that tension builds, when he knows he's right on the edge, Verso shifts. He lets go of himself, lets go of Gustave's metal hand, instead running his hands along his thighs, gripping his hips tight, bracing himself, bracing him, relaxing his throat and sinking down and taking him as deep as he can, all the way, lips stretched around his base even as Gustave's hips continue to jerk and try to push himself deeper -- and fuck, when he comes. He shudders with it, leaning in, sinking down, swallowing him easily and readily. His throat burns, just a little, still out of practice, but he doesn't even care or mind, thumbs pressing into the line of his hips, kneading into skin and muscle as he rides it out.
He stays there, suckling and swallowing down, until he feels him soften, until he knows he's completely spent and even then lingers just a while more, sweeping his tongue over him in his mouth just to savor it that much more. Verso shifts his weight back slightly on his calves, finally leaning back, letting him slip from his mouth and immediately turning his head to press a kiss to one thigh. Still with that smirk, looking quite self-satisfied.
He'll wait. You take your time and catch your breath. ]
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Date: 2025-05-28 01:01 am (UTC)And fuck, he loves it when he says his name. Especially like that, when it doesn't even sound like he's calling him, when it just sounds like the only thing he can think to say, when he tumbles on over and in the mess of his thoughts as he's overwhelmed by the heat and pleasure the only thing he can do is curse and call his name.
When that tension builds, when he knows he's right on the edge, Verso shifts. He lets go of himself, lets go of Gustave's metal hand, instead running his hands along his thighs, gripping his hips tight, bracing himself, bracing him, relaxing his throat and sinking down and taking him as deep as he can, all the way, lips stretched around his base even as Gustave's hips continue to jerk and try to push himself deeper -- and fuck, when he comes. He shudders with it, leaning in, sinking down, swallowing him easily and readily. His throat burns, just a little, still out of practice, but he doesn't even care or mind, thumbs pressing into the line of his hips, kneading into skin and muscle as he rides it out.
He stays there, suckling and swallowing down, until he feels him soften, until he knows he's completely spent and even then lingers just a while more, sweeping his tongue over him in his mouth just to savor it that much more. Verso shifts his weight back slightly on his calves, finally leaning back, letting him slip from his mouth and immediately turning his head to press a kiss to one thigh. Still with that smirk, looking quite self-satisfied.
He'll wait. You take your time and catch your breath. ]