[ Verso comes alive under him, in his mouth and against his tongue, and when that hand grips his hair and presses down, Gustave allows it, sinking deeper, hoping not to awkwardly choke as he tries to relax his throat — it's been a while, but he's determined. His own hand stops him before he can get too deep, but by then Verso's simply moving with him, hips rocking and hand pushing in that perfect rhythm that Gustave starts pushing faster, harder, deeper.
Merde, but he almost never wants to hear his name said another way again, the way that it falls from Verso's desperate lips, breathless and hapless and with that air of warning that Gustave ignores in favor of taking him deeper once more, running his tongue up against him as he draws firmly on him. And when Verso comes, hard and shaking, he stays there, swallowing him down, ignoring the burn at the back of his throat and the ache in his jaw until the man's shudders subside and he starts to soften against his tongue.
Carefully, Gustave draws back, uncurling his fingers as the skin beneath them softens, and gently lays him down before turning his head to press a kiss to the rise of his hip, the V of his groin. Every kiss is gentle, his touch light and warm, taking as much care as he can.
It's his turn now to smile, self-satisfied, when he tips his head back to look up at the man, wanting to see the effect he'd had on him, and he needs a moment to catch his breath, too, before he can reach down to drag his own pants back up to hang loosely from his hips and press himself up on his fabricated left hand to crawl up along Verso's side until he can lie there next to him, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder, his right hand languid on Verso's belly. ]
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Merde, but he almost never wants to hear his name said another way again, the way that it falls from Verso's desperate lips, breathless and hapless and with that air of warning that Gustave ignores in favor of taking him deeper once more, running his tongue up against him as he draws firmly on him. And when Verso comes, hard and shaking, he stays there, swallowing him down, ignoring the burn at the back of his throat and the ache in his jaw until the man's shudders subside and he starts to soften against his tongue.
Carefully, Gustave draws back, uncurling his fingers as the skin beneath them softens, and gently lays him down before turning his head to press a kiss to the rise of his hip, the V of his groin. Every kiss is gentle, his touch light and warm, taking as much care as he can.
It's his turn now to smile, self-satisfied, when he tips his head back to look up at the man, wanting to see the effect he'd had on him, and he needs a moment to catch his breath, too, before he can reach down to drag his own pants back up to hang loosely from his hips and press himself up on his fabricated left hand to crawl up along Verso's side until he can lie there next to him, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder, his right hand languid on Verso's belly. ]