"Wow," Verso can't help but blurt out, shaking his head and laughing. "I think that's a record for the fastest anyone has ever backpedaled out of flirting with me."
A century, and Gustave takes the cake. He couldn't even finish the sentence. Verso doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended. A pause, and then he cants his head toward Gustave's face. Particularly, his eyebrows. "You are furry."
"That's not why I was backpedaling!" Gustave protests. That's why he shouldn't open his mouth, he thinks; that had somehow sounded much smoother in his head.
He knits those lush Robert Pattinson brows, stunned silent for a moment. Finally, floundering, he asks, "Is comparing me to Monoco meant to make me feel... attractive?"
It was meant to make Gustave laugh, but clearly, he's too aggressively awkward for that. "Everyone's a critic," he says, crossing his arms. Even when said critics are so bad at flirting that they really shouldn't get a say. "Should I have told you how pretty and funny you are instead?"
"I think we should establish hand signals," Gustave argues, and then says what may be one of the most revealing things about his mindset yet: "One when you're flirting, one when you're messing with me. It'll take a lot of the confusion out of it for me." Because somehow he believes they're mutually exclusive.
Oh. Suddenly, everything about that 'charming obliviousness' makes sense. How did Gustave ever end up in a relationship? Surely this love of his life couldn't resist the siren call to bully him.
"—I know it's been a while since I interacted with someone who wasn't a Gestral, but I didn't think my skills were that bad." It's a little sheepish, a little embarrassed. "The 'messing with you' is the flirting." A beat. "Well, it's supposed to be."
But it's not suave at all if he has to explain it!!
Gustave stares at him, feeling his own ears go warm. He's recontextualizing a lot of things very quickly in his mind, before he clears his throat and glances back at the fire.
"Are you four years old?" he mutters, but he's grinning slightly, embarrassed himself. "That's- missing that isn't on me."
He's silent for a long moment before the laughter starts. It begins as a quiet bubbling sound in his throat, erupting into sound loud enough that Maelle is giving them both curious looks.
"Want to go for a walk?" Gustave says after a moment, his shoulders still trembling.
He'd thought it couldn't get any more embarrassing, but it has. As Gustave laughs, he rubs his face, groaning. "You thought—" What, that Verso was just mean? For the fun of it? He'd thought he was being appealingly playful this whole time.
"I don't know." In response to the walk, although there's no real gravity to it. "If you're going to laugh at me again, I should probably just throw myself into the fire." It would be less painful.
"I assumed you were teasing me the way you tease Monoco," Gustave says, but there's genuine mirth on his face. "Come on, I'm not laughing at you. Just - how bad I am at human interaction sometimes."
He shoots him a sidelong smile. "Please? Don't make me go alone. My reputation will take a hit."
He's pretty sure Gustave was laughing at him at least a little bit, but it does feel nice to hear laughter again after the despair of yesterday. Even Verso feels lighter, which is saying something considering he so often feels as if he's lugging five tons of emotional baggage around.
"I guess one of us still has a salvageable reputation." The implication being that his reputation very much isn't, after this humiliation. Flirting!! This is flirting. Is it not obvious? "All right."
That's an insane way to flirt, Verso!! If normal people worked like you did, that means people would have been flirting with Gustave his entire life! Absolutely ridiculous.
"Sorry. I mean it," he says, when there's just a little more space between them and the rest of the group. "I'm not always the most perceptive man. Surprise."
Verso is smiling, yes, but he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut as if this is a physically painful conversation to have. "It would be great if we could stop talking about it. I might be able to hold onto a little bit of dignity that way." He removes his hand from his nose to hold his thumb and forefinger out, nearly touching, just a sliver of space between them. A liiittle bit of dignity.
"We both flew past the point of no return dignity-wise when we got drunk and stumbled off into the woods together like horny teenagers," Gustave says bluntly, a little beleaguered, "but if the illusion is that important to you, I'll let you keep it."
The illusion is important to him, thanks. He's got to keep up appearances. But— "I had good reasons to do that." Very good reasons! It's not as if Gustave had been good at flirting, but he'd made a drunken pass, at least. "You did that when you thought I was teasing you like a Gestral."
"I think we can both safely agree my dignity went flying out the window the moment I got drunk on wine and tried to hold your hand." His own wrist-petting will haunt him for the rest of his very short life.
Just when he thought the night couldn't get any more embarrassing. It isn't as if Gustave actually held anything. He'd taken it as... endearingly weird. An extremely clumsy come-on.
"Well, great. Not an ounce of dignity between us."
"It was fifty-fifty," Gustave says with a little wobble of his hand. "But I should really stop talking if I don't want to ruin my chances for this evening, huh."
Verso's expression faintly brightens. Perhaps it's ridiculous, but he hadn't known if Gustave would still be interested. He'd said he was only when he had his own death looming large over him, and he surely hadn't expected to actually survive to the victory party. He could have promised anything; the chances of it actually materializing were tiny.
"Yeah," he snarks, "you're on thin ice." Then, to cover his bases, he says, "That was flirting."
"Thanks for clarifying," Gustave says, and it's only mostly a joke. "If only my parents could see me now. En route to the Paintress, on a team with some of the most impressive people I've ever known," he starts, then adds: "Making plans to have sex in the woods with an actual member of Expedition Zero. They'd be so proud."
Now he's the one trying to make Verso laugh, and he bumps Verso's arm with his own.
Verso snorts. Gustave's parents would probably be wondering where they went wrong for him to be sleeping with a centegenarian, but he's not trying to talk Gustave out of it. He wonders, briefly, if Gustave misses his parents often, how long it's been that he's been living without them. But that would be a real mood killer, and he's loath to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere, so he doesn't ask.
"Is that what this is all about?" Only jokingly offended. "You wanted a piece of history?"
Gustave has always struggled to talk about the people he's lost. It's easier to focus on the future, on his stubborn goal for building a better world for the next generation, and the generation after that. Or maybe just doing his best to ensure those generations will get a fair shot at existence in the first place.
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Gustave says seriously, and gives Verso a consoling pat on the butt. It's obviously meant to be silly, not titillating, but even to him the mutual interest is obvious enough that it feels like a safe thing to do.
Verso shoves him away—rude!!!—before pulling him back in by the fabric of his shirt, leaning in so that their faces are close and his nose nudges Gustave's. It had all felt a little bit uncertain the first time, when they'd both been drunk and stupid and hadn't even used the word sex, but he's fairly sure he has permission to kiss Gustave now, so he closes the remaining distance between their mouths. It feels a bit different sober; there's no taste of wine, no hazy drunkenness underscoring everything.
"I guess I should just feel lucky that I'm getting any action at all, in my old age."
The shove makes Gustave laugh again, as does the way Verso grabs his shirt immediately after. He yields easily to that pull, quietly pleased by the kiss. He's not an idiot; he knows the connection between them is superficial, a product of mutual loneliness more than any sort of deeper feeling, but that's okay. It makes the act of catching Verso's mouth with his own no less appealing, no less of a creature comfort.
"I'm only giving you a pass because of your age, you know," he says, his hand loosely gripping Verso's hip. "I'm a gentleman. I wouldn't normally put out for anything less than dinner and a show." Gustave's eyes are crinkled in amusement, voice low like he's afraid Maelle might overhear from wherever she is right now and think him a bad influence.
You know how I feel about friendships with Expeditioners, Verso had told Esquie, and now he's kissing one in the middle of nowhere. But it's fine. It's just— idle fun. Just sex.
He would never admit that he's been thinking about the best way to get this uniform off since the last time he had to contend with it, but his hands are quite a bit more confident as they tug Gustave's jacket off. "Ooh. You're into old guys, huh?" Not what he said, but still what Verso's choosing to take from it.
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A century, and Gustave takes the cake. He couldn't even finish the sentence. Verso doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended. A pause, and then he cants his head toward Gustave's face. Particularly, his eyebrows. "You are furry."
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He knits those lush Robert Pattinson brows, stunned silent for a moment. Finally, floundering, he asks, "Is comparing me to Monoco meant to make me feel... attractive?"
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"—I know it's been a while since I interacted with someone who wasn't a Gestral, but I didn't think my skills were that bad." It's a little sheepish, a little embarrassed. "The 'messing with you' is the flirting." A beat. "Well, it's supposed to be."
But it's not suave at all if he has to explain it!!
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"Are you four years old?" he mutters, but he's grinning slightly, embarrassed himself. "That's- missing that isn't on me."
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"Well, I wasted a lot of time trying to be irresistibly roguish."
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"Want to go for a walk?" Gustave says after a moment, his shoulders still trembling.
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"I don't know." In response to the walk, although there's no real gravity to it. "If you're going to laugh at me again, I should probably just throw myself into the fire." It would be less painful.
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He shoots him a sidelong smile. "Please? Don't make me go alone. My reputation will take a hit."
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"I guess one of us still has a salvageable reputation." The implication being that his reputation very much isn't, after this humiliation. Flirting!! This is flirting. Is it not obvious? "All right."
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"Sorry. I mean it," he says, when there's just a little more space between them and the rest of the group. "I'm not always the most perceptive man. Surprise."
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Just when he thought the night couldn't get any more embarrassing. It isn't as if Gustave actually held anything. He'd taken it as... endearingly weird. An extremely clumsy come-on.
"Well, great. Not an ounce of dignity between us."
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"Yeah," he snarks, "you're on thin ice." Then, to cover his bases, he says, "That was flirting."
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Now he's the one trying to make Verso laugh, and he bumps Verso's arm with his own.
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"Is that what this is all about?" Only jokingly offended. "You wanted a piece of history?"
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"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Gustave says seriously, and gives Verso a consoling pat on the butt. It's obviously meant to be silly, not titillating, but even to him the mutual interest is obvious enough that it feels like a safe thing to do.
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"I guess I should just feel lucky that I'm getting any action at all, in my old age."
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"I'm only giving you a pass because of your age, you know," he says, his hand loosely gripping Verso's hip. "I'm a gentleman. I wouldn't normally put out for anything less than dinner and a show." Gustave's eyes are crinkled in amusement, voice low like he's afraid Maelle might overhear from wherever she is right now and think him a bad influence.
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He would never admit that he's been thinking about the best way to get this uniform off since the last time he had to contend with it, but his hands are quite a bit more confident as they tug Gustave's jacket off. "Ooh. You're into old guys, huh?" Not what he said, but still what Verso's choosing to take from it.
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ignore my typos... they're just creative spelling choices for artistic purposes.....
your first mistake is assuming I'm literate enough to notice
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