I think I'd enjoy hearing about your work anyway, if I overcame my shock at losing mon fleuriste. But I think I'd forgive you if you kept plying me with flowers.
[ The self-effacing humor is charming -- and Verso does wonder how much truth there is to that, at all. Part of his surprise about all of this had been that Gustave had remembered him so strongly even all this time after. He's an attractive man, with a good heart, would likely make someone else in Lumiere very happy for all the time they had left together. Whatever it is has seemed to keep him like this, he doubts its the work stories.
Besides, verso really does think he'd like to hear them. He remembers Gustave's bright-eyed enthusiasm for hearing him play at the opera house, endearing, adorable -- he can imagine him just as eager over some mechanical contraption. He remembers earlier after they'd picked themselves up from their spill across the rooftops, when he'd fished that device out and worked away at something in his mechanical arm as they talked, easy, effortless, second nature. He's not actually seen the man work. He thinks he might like to.
Gustave's knee slides between his thighs, his arms on either side of him again. Taking the chances that Verso is continuing to give him even if he keeps thinking he shouldn't. He really does know better, but when Gustave is braced over him like that again, and then his mouth is back on his neck -- he can't help but let his head hall back on a low, pleased sigh.
He tucks his head against Gustave's for a moment, face against his hair, just breathing him in -- the scent of him is warm and sweet, lingering with everything else in the air, crushed flowers and fresh grass and the still-lingering smell of sweat and sex. ]
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[ The self-effacing humor is charming -- and Verso does wonder how much truth there is to that, at all. Part of his surprise about all of this had been that Gustave had remembered him so strongly even all this time after. He's an attractive man, with a good heart, would likely make someone else in Lumiere very happy for all the time they had left together. Whatever it is has seemed to keep him like this, he doubts its the work stories.
Besides, verso really does think he'd like to hear them. He remembers Gustave's bright-eyed enthusiasm for hearing him play at the opera house, endearing, adorable -- he can imagine him just as eager over some mechanical contraption. He remembers earlier after they'd picked themselves up from their spill across the rooftops, when he'd fished that device out and worked away at something in his mechanical arm as they talked, easy, effortless, second nature. He's not actually seen the man work. He thinks he might like to.
Gustave's knee slides between his thighs, his arms on either side of him again. Taking the chances that Verso is continuing to give him even if he keeps thinking he shouldn't. He really does know better, but when Gustave is braced over him like that again, and then his mouth is back on his neck -- he can't help but let his head hall back on a low, pleased sigh.
He tucks his head against Gustave's for a moment, face against his hair, just breathing him in -- the scent of him is warm and sweet, lingering with everything else in the air, crushed flowers and fresh grass and the still-lingering smell of sweat and sex. ]
Hand-holding? [ A little nip to his ear, muffling a laugh against his skin. Verso's other hand sliding just under his shirt, fingertips pressing into the notches of his spine. ] After a first date? Mon ingΓ©nieur really is more bold than I realized.
Next thing you'd tell me that you wouldn't just walk me home for the night, gentleman as you are.
[ utterly scandalous!! ]