[ He shudders again as Verso finally slides him slowly out of his mouth, tongue lingering there along softening, too-sensitive skin, and lets out a long, shaking breath as the man presses a kiss to his thigh and sits back, looking like a self-satisfied cat.
Well, he's earned it. Little aftershocks ripple their way through Gustave's veins, trembling and twitching in his muscles. His body feels heavy, sated in a way he hasn't been in... longer than he'd like to recall, and his head is only just beginning to clear of the smoke that had filled it, driving out every thought but how good it felt and how impossibly beautiful Verso is and how his every touch seemed to coax Gustave's body back to life.
One by one, he carefully uncurls his fingers from the trellis, where they've dented the wire beyond hope of repair, until the only thing keeping him upright is the metal behind him and his own dazed and trembling legs. Slowly, Gustave shifts down, knees bending, keeping his weight back until he can finally come to his knees in front of Verso, and he's smiling, wide and white and laughing, his eyes pressed into cheerful half-moons. ]
What a mess you've made of me.
[ His pants around his knees, his shirt a stained and wrinkled mess, his body bruised and scraped and aching and still feeling as though he's flying, even now, as he reaches for Verso with both hands, curving his palms at either side of his jaw to drag the man in for a lazy, heated kiss. He can taste himself on Verson's tongue, sex and musk and salt, and it jolts into him again. The edge is gone, but he still has wants, and they still involve the man kneeling here with him. ]
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Date: 2025-05-28 01:35 am (UTC)Well, he's earned it. Little aftershocks ripple their way through Gustave's veins, trembling and twitching in his muscles. His body feels heavy, sated in a way he hasn't been in... longer than he'd like to recall, and his head is only just beginning to clear of the smoke that had filled it, driving out every thought but how good it felt and how impossibly beautiful Verso is and how his every touch seemed to coax Gustave's body back to life.
One by one, he carefully uncurls his fingers from the trellis, where they've dented the wire beyond hope of repair, until the only thing keeping him upright is the metal behind him and his own dazed and trembling legs. Slowly, Gustave shifts down, knees bending, keeping his weight back until he can finally come to his knees in front of Verso, and he's smiling, wide and white and laughing, his eyes pressed into cheerful half-moons. ]
What a mess you've made of me.
[ His pants around his knees, his shirt a stained and wrinkled mess, his body bruised and scraped and aching and still feeling as though he's flying, even now, as he reaches for Verso with both hands, curving his palms at either side of his jaw to drag the man in for a lazy, heated kiss. He can taste himself on Verson's tongue, sex and musk and salt, and it jolts into him again. The edge is gone, but he still has wants, and they still involve the man kneeling here with him. ]