[ This is a little different than before, when he'd been the one pushing Gustave against a wall and crushing him against it, running his hands all over his body, mapping him out with mouth and tongue. Gustave's interest in him is hardly subtle, but now that Verso isn't just holding him down and smothering him with his own attentions, now that Verso isn't himself wholly consumed by just wanting to see him break -- he can see a bit more of how Gustave is really looking at him. Wanting, longing, casting his gaze over Verso's muscled chest once he gets his shirt open, his heated touch.
Verso tucks his face against Gustave's, kissing at his cheek and jaw, his breath catching noticeably when that thumb moves over his nipple. And down, to his already loosened trousers, still just barely staying slung around his hips.
It's intoxicating. He wishes he could stay, that he could just -- forget everything else, for longer than this.
He haind cards through his hair, slipping down to Gustave's jaw, tipping his head up -- getting briefly distracted just looking at him, how fucking beautiful he looks with those lips bruised with his kisses and cheeks still flushed from everything he's done to him before now -- before kissing him on the mouth again. ]
You make that sound hard to resist, monsieur le fleuriste. [ A laugh there. The guilt wallowing in his chest is still a bit distant, hasn't fully hit him yet. Maybe he'd like to keep it at bay just a little longer, even if it's going to make the regret that much work. ] I think I would like more flowers.
You have me here now.
[ And later, he'll still have to leave. Time to make the most of it, Gustave. His other arm wraps around him again, keeping him close, his hand palming up over the back of his thigh, squeezing over toned muscle. ]
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Date: 2025-05-28 03:31 am (UTC)Verso tucks his face against Gustave's, kissing at his cheek and jaw, his breath catching noticeably when that thumb moves over his nipple. And down, to his already loosened trousers, still just barely staying slung around his hips.
It's intoxicating. He wishes he could stay, that he could just -- forget everything else, for longer than this.
He haind cards through his hair, slipping down to Gustave's jaw, tipping his head up -- getting briefly distracted just looking at him, how fucking beautiful he looks with those lips bruised with his kisses and cheeks still flushed from everything he's done to him before now -- before kissing him on the mouth again. ]
You make that sound hard to resist, monsieur le fleuriste. [ A laugh there. The guilt wallowing in his chest is still a bit distant, hasn't fully hit him yet. Maybe he'd like to keep it at bay just a little longer, even if it's going to make the regret that much work. ] I think I would like more flowers.
You have me here now.
[ And later, he'll still have to leave. Time to make the most of it, Gustave. His other arm wraps around him again, keeping him close, his hand palming up over the back of his thigh, squeezing over toned muscle. ]