tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[superniceone]

"Popular," Gustave echoes in a deadpan, but he does look privately pleased with himself when he's got Verso's belt hanging loose.

This is - such an insane situation to be in, he thinks. It probably would have been better if Verso had brought Lune or Sciel out here; he's certain they'd both be less clumsy, more able to lead.

He shakes that thought away, bearing his weight down a little into that pressure - if only because it feels really good. He hums at that, a throaty sound of appreciation, before he hazards a little clumsily: "Do you want me to use my mouth?"

Not that he's extremely into the thought of having Verso's on him or anything like that - or at least it feels somehow uncomfortably inappropriate to ask for without being more certain about his interest. Gustave is a guy that cares a lot about comfort and respect!!!

[recreatable]

Another half-smile, more amused eyes. It isn't at Gustave's expense, really. It's just— do you want me to, as if there's any universe where that answer isn't 'yes'. Very kindly, he resists the urge to roll his eyes at how, despite the clothed erection pressing against him, Gustave still hasn't clocked that Verso is into this.

He does, however, raise an eyebrow. "That was really in question?" He shakes his head. "Mon dieu, I've got to be more obvious."

[superniceone]

"Verso." Gustave's expression is fond, but his voice is playfully scolding. He leans forward and down, his hands propped on either side of Verso's head to brace himself up as he kisses him again. Some of the sweetness is gone from it, and - okay, he knows it's such a horny teenager thing to do, but he grinds himself down against him, just because the friction feels really good.

Gustave leans up and slides back (a little reluctantly), but his hands are certainly both more deft and certain as he rucks Verso's trousers down enough to slide his dick free. He is, of course, talking the entire time he does. "Oh, please, you're the one being - irritatingly evasive. 'What do you want me to do to you, Gustave? I'm just going to tease you when you ask what's on the table,'" he says, voice an unflattering imitation of Verso's as he takes his erection in his hand. "Maybe I just want to be certain I'm not asking you to do something you're uncomfortable with," he complains, and then cuts himself off by leaning in to take him in his mouth.

He has no idea what he's doing, of course - it's the second time interacted with another man's anatomy that wasn't his own - but he knows what feels good to himself, and he's trying.

[recreatable]

"I don't sound like—" Oh. Verso lets out a faint sound of surprise, because obviously, he didn't expect Gustave to transition from complaining to oral in less than one second flat. He doesn't even know what he's doing, after all — Verso had expected him to be more intimidated.

But, once again, Gustave dives into this with more gusto than he really ought to have. It's all enthusiasm, no technical skill, which Verso had expected for Gustave's first time on the giving end of this. That doesn't mean it's bad, mind you; a blowjob is a blowjob, and it's been even longer since he's had one of these than a quick wilderness handy. He's never, he notes distantly, gotten one from someone with a beard.

He reaches down to tug Gustave closer by his ridiculous, fluffy hair before remembering, right, this is his first time, and he should probably be gentle. In lieu of sitting on his hands, which is what he should really do, he just places them softly on Gustave's head.

"—that," he finishes lamely.

[superniceone]

Gustave will never pass up a chance to be analytical. It's certainly a strange experience if only because of how different it is from anything he's done before, and he tries not to let himself feel just the littlest bit smug about the way he'd interrupted Verso's kvetching. He pulls his mouth up slowly, just to leave enough spit behind so that he can stroke him without too much friction when he pulls a few inches back.

"You are the first person in my life to treat me like I'm - breakable," he says with a little laugh. "You don't actually have to go so easy on me."

He's already paused a near certain march towards death to suck a guy's dick in the woods; there's little reason left to be precious about things now. Gustave resumes the amateur but enthusiastic blowjob, and will probably once again seem like he's made a science experiment out of determining what makes Verso squirm the most.

[recreatable]

"I'm being a gentleman," he argues distantly, although the truth is probably closer to being so used to trying to paint himself in a favorable light that he's hesitant to do something that might be real-slash-unlikable even now, while having meaningless sex in the woods.

His breathing hitches, and he curls his fingers in Gustave's hair again — fine, if he's so opposed to being treated with politeness. He tugs slightly, thighs tensing beside Gustave. The curls of Gustave's hair are soft, he registers idly. He's not sure he's ever touched them before.

"Maybe I didn't want to," he says, valiantly attempting to talk shit even as he's interrupted by a somewhat embarrassing jerk of the hips, "mess up your hair."

[superniceone]

Maybe if Gustave reminds himself often enough this is just meaningless sex to the both of them, he'll be able to actually believe it. Not that he's thinking about that now; no, right now he's currently cataloguing every reaction he's able to pull from him. He carefully chases his own hand down to the root of Verso's erection, and when he pulls away to catch his breath, he lays a clumsy sort of kiss against the inside of his thigh.

"So maybe excuses. Never asked you to be a gentleman," he protests, still making long, slow strokes with his hand near his own face. "And we both know my hair's a lost cause."

[recreatable]

Verso's not proud of it, but he does actually kick Gustave. Lightly, at least, and out of impulse alone. Gustave is no expert at this, but Verso had been enjoying the experiment. "You can't stop talking even now," he gripes breathlessly, although there's a laugh at the tail end of it. He can't say it's out of character.

[superniceone]

It's such a natural and human reaction that Gustave just laughs about it. Out of impulse alone, he leans in, latches a kiss near his hip bone. Another experiment; if he gently sucks a mark into his skin, how long will it last?

And, because he doesn't actually hate Verso, he'll resume blowing him right after the setup for the little experiment is complete.

[recreatable]

There is definitely something very wrong with him that he's currently letting a man he was all too happy to let die give him a blowjob. But, unfortunately, being wrong doesn't actually make it any less pleasurable. He tangles his fingers in Gustave's hair again, and although, yes, it was a lost cause to begin with, it's certainly made worse by the insistent tugging. Gustave, once again, is about to look like he lost a fight.

Verso makes a low noise in the back of his throat, jerks, and tenses again— "Gustave." Not screaming his name out of pleasure, unfortunately. It's a warning, a gentlemanly(!) attempt not to introduce Gustave to what he'd probably call an impolite taste before he dies.

[superniceone]

Gustave wasn't making it up when he said the sound of Verso's voice when he's compromised like that is - overwhelmingly appealing. He risks another few slow drags, before he pulls back entirely, continuing to stroke him through.

"Verso," he says, his voice quiet and coaxing. "C'mon."

[recreatable]

Oh, the soft sound of Gustave's encouragement accompanied by his steadily working hand sends Verso tipping right over. It's probably the most ridiculous blowjob he's ever gotten, the only one where someone stopped to chide him partway through, but it still gets the job very much done. He lies still for a moment afterward, panting a little, skin a little damp. It is unfortunately going to be unmistakably obvious that they weren't tussling this time.

Oh, well. That's a problem for future Verso, and future Verso won't even be around soon. He glances at Gustave, smiling crookedly. "Want me to do you?"

[superniceone]

It's probably a little silly to be proud of himself, but that doesn't change the fact that he is. Gustave is flush with warmth, pupils blown a bit wide with his own arousal, and he meets Verso's look with a baffled one of his own. "If you want," he says finally, evenly; he's turned on to the point of discomfort, and it takes every ounce of restraint in him not to parrot Verso's Is it not obvious? from before.

[recreatable]

Verso tugs his pants up, because it's probably tempting fate to hang out with his trousers around his knees when Renoir could catch him with his pants down any moment. Right after, though, he pushes himself up to verticality again so that he and Gustave are face-to-face. He's very flushed, and strands of his hair stick to his face from the thin sheen of sweat.

"If I want?" Gustave should be begging on his knees!!! But Verso pushes him down anyway, flat on his back (on their clothes, which are steadily growing greener). He's even less experienced in this than anything he's done before, and maybe he's actually the one who's a little intimidated, but— it can't be that difficult. "Kind of you to do an old man a favor like this."

[superniceone]

Oh. That's a good look for Verso, Gustave thinks, and he swallows hard at that. Thankfully, he's pushed onto his back before he's got the opportunity to reach out or say anything that leaves him wanting to crawl into a cave in embarrassment.

"You don't have to," he says, tokenly annoyed. He's taking careful, shallow breath, trying to even himself out. "I'm not going to be mad if you use your hands, I mean -" Gustave whines then, low in his throat. "You know what I mean."

[recreatable]

Gustave is far too easy to work up; it's almost not even fair. Verso's grin widens as he tugs Gustave's trousers down around his thighs, clearly amused. "I'm messing with you," he says, not without some amount of fondness, before pressing his mouth to the bare skin of Gustave's stomach. Working himself up to performing, although he'd rather Gustave just interpret it as a tease.

[superniceone]

"What a flirt," Gustave deadpans, but there's no hiding the way his stomach tenses in anticipation beneath the press of his mouth. Verso had touched his hair, so he'll take it as tacit permission to do the same in turn - though his touch is more overtly affectionate, fingers combing gently once through his hair.

"God, you're - so handsome," he blurts, because it's hard not to think it from his vantage point here.

[recreatable]

Verso can't help but smile against Gustave's skin, privately pleased. "Obnoxiously so, some say," is his response upon pulling back, before he presses another kiss to the junction between pelvis and thigh. He curls his callused fingers around Gustave's erection, feeling— perhaps not intimidated, exactly, but some small amount of pressure to perform well. After all, he so wants to chase perfection.

It's just a tentative touch of the lips first, like a wetting of his feet, before he takes Gustave properly into his mouth. It's different than what he's strictly used to. Not bad, but he finds himself overwhelmingly aware of his teeth, careful not to do anything Gustave won't like. His tongue is gentle, exploratory. Gentlemanly, he might say, although it's little to do with Gustave's comfort this time around and more to do with his own relative inexperience with being on this end of the act.

[superniceone]

Gustave is fully oblivious to all of this, of course. He'd caught on to the fact that Verso was maybe a little less of an expert on all of this than he'd claimed to be, but he isn't really in a position to be extremely critical about this. They're in such an awkward position to be with, in the middle of the woods, both a little awkward about things-

But that doesn't stop it from feeling incredible. It's impossible to discern cautious gentleness from being teased, and Gustave groans quietly, sweeping his hand gently across Verso's brow. "Maybe- less obnoxious than you used to be," he says, but there's nothing but gentle fondness in his hands.

[recreatable]

Verso pauses, then pulls off entirely. (Yeah, it sucks when people do that, doesn't it?) He's kind enough to pick up where he left off with his hand, which is admittedly both more confident and nimble than his mouth. If he can play Mozart's Sonata No. 16, he can play Gustave.

"Wouldn't want to disappoint," he says pointedly. "I'll stop in the middle of it to talk some more." Like some other people who shall not be named!!!

[superniceone]

The teasing would probably be more effective if Verso's hand didn't very nearly feel as good as his mouth did. Gustave would point that out, except he's distracted enough that he mostly just groans softly instead, his fingers flexing in Verso's hair.

"This more flirting?" he asks after a swallow, his voice rough and dipping. Gustave lifts his head to look at him, but the focused way he's watching Verso probably indicates he's definitely getting something out of the sight, too.

[recreatable]

He likes the way arousal sounds on Gustave; it's a nice voice to begin with, and the throaty quality of excitement only makes it more so. It certainly bolsters his ego, at any rate, which is probably something Gustave (wisely) doesn't want to do. He laughs, which is a ridiculous thing to do when in the middle of blowing someone, but Gustave does bring it out in him. He's fun, as wild as that is to say about someone who was bemoaning the end of his life a day ago.

"Now you're getting it," he says with a smirk before returning his attention to Gustave's erection. There's less pressure now that it seems obvious that Gustave is enjoying himself, so he takes his time now to explore what Gustave might like best — whether he likes to be teased, or if he reacts more when Verso just gets to the point and swirls his tongue over the tip of him. A perfectionist, still, in his own way, eager to perform up to standard.

[superniceone]

It would be easy to be offended by the laugh, but it's easy to tell it's neither mocking nor scornful. If asked to, Gustave wouldn't be able to put it in words, exactly, but it's a subconscious relief to know that Verso isn't actively miserable, isn't doing it out of sheer, reluctant obligation.

And it'll become clear he doesn't mind being teased. He's aware this is meant to be quick, meaningless; it doesn't necessarily mean he wants it to feel like that, and as much as he's left sensitive and twitchy beneath Verso when he gets to the point, it's the moments with a lighter touch that leave him murmuring hoarse little sounds of praise and encouragement.

His hand grips harder into Verso's hair when he approaches his tipping point, the noise halfway to a whimper. "Stop, come here, come up here."

[recreatable]

It's surprisingly easy to get into the rhythm of things once all is said and done. He does something, a flick of the tongue or a hollowing of the cheeks, and then he listens for Gustave's response. It's the vocalizations that encourage him the most, like Gustave is an instrument and if he plucks all of the right strings, he can elicit all the right sounds. But then Gustave says stop, which feels a bit more like a string going flat, and he quickly removes himself, coming here as beckoned on his hands and knees.

"—Too much?" he asks, light, although he searches Gustave's face for any indication that it really was.

[superniceone]

In light of their success against the Visages, Gustave is doing his best to be hopeful for the next days as they come. Despite that, he can't quite shake the feeling that he's on borrowed time -- and if he is, in this private little moment here, he's going to take what he wants.

"I didn't say - stop, I just said- come here," he says, a half-sputter, because he's wrenching up to meet him, to drag him into a kiss that's teetering on absolutely desperate.