superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

Yes, and no. Maelle, of course, deserves a mother who lives in the real world. She deserves a family that's moved on, that doesn't blame her for things that were never her fault. Kicking Aline out of the Canvas was certainly a step in that direction. Part of it had been selfish, too, though. He'd wanted it all to stop.

"Oh, I don't know. Lune's doing a good job of it."

"This may come as a surprise, but Lune and I are, in fact, different people. Is this where you let us know that all Expeditioners actually look the same to you after so long? Because that would be the worst twist yet."

It's not funny. He knows it isn't funny, but he's at a strange loss.

Oof, it's not funny. Verso turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. "I'm trying to generously allow you to hate me." It's pretty rude that Gustave isn't letting him, actually.

"I don't know what good hatred has ever done me, honestly." And then, maybe a little more seriously: "You're Maelle's brother. It might be rough on her if we can't at least be cordial."

Oof, again. Hatred might be better than cordial, but Verso just rests his head back against the tree trunk, acquiescent. "All right. Cordial." A pause. "Monsieur." You know, since they're being so cordial.

"I said at least cordial," Gustave says, unable to keep the mild exasperation out of his voice. "Don't call me monsieur."

He still has no right to joke around with Gustave, but— "Too sexy?" It's deadpan and more than a little self-deprecating. Nothing he's done recently is particularly sexy.

Gustave rolls his eyes, tipping his own head back against the trunk of the tree. "Yes," he drones back. "You wouldn't want to be a distraction, would you."

Verso pinches the bridge of his nose. All right, so Gustave is still holding onto that. He could explain that it isn't the sex that was distracting, but everything that came along with it. Tell Gustave that he killed the last person who got close to him, and that he wasn't really looking to make a habit of it. Even thinking about that sounds awful, so he doesn't.

"Is there a way I can reply to that that doesn't land me in the dog house?"

Gustave digs his knuckle into his own temple and realizes he's definitely just making his own headache worse with his choice of conversation topic. "It's fine, I get it. There were a handful of ways you saw this playing out, and none of them involved us being alive to talk about it tonight." He breathes a low sigh, then adds: "Hell of a way to try to spare my feelings, though."

"It wasn't—"

All right, it was to spare Gustave's feelings to an extent. He hadn't wanted to have an uncomfortable conversation, and he'd wanted to keep the good parts without having to deal with the bad parts. He'd thought it easiest to simply put it off until— well.

"If it helps, I was sparing my feelings, too."

Gustave understands the sentiment, he thinks, but putting himself into Verso's shoes in impossible. There's so little overlap in their shared experiences that it's honestly shocking they have anything to talk about at all.

"Mmm. You must have resented me and my bad poker face that night it ruined your dance. Just a little bit, at least." How does it feel so long ago?

"Resent isn't the word I'm thinking of, no."

I would rather have danced with you is a viable reply, but he doesn't have the right to say it, and besides, Gustave would probably point out that they very much could have danced together if only Verso hadn't cut him off. It's too complicated, too hard to explain.

"But I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say that it was charming."

Gustave considers that for a moment, finally turning his head to just look at Verso. Studying him, like he might be able to strip a few layers off to help him understand better the way his mind works.

"I think," he starts quietly, "that it's pretty silly that you still obfuscate everything you say. Feels a bit late for that."

"It's not— everything," Verso says weakly. It's just most things. He's prevaricated since long before he met Gustave; sometimes he thinks it must be sketched into his very being, an intrinsic quality of Verso's that got passed down to him.

He sighs. "Force of habit, I guess." That's easier to say than that it's a deep-seated facet of his personality, which he supposes is again obfuscating. But he's taking baby steps — he fumbles through, "I... liked it. The jealousy."

He hadn't been certain Gustave had any real affection for him at all, honestly, or if he'd just attempted it out of his own habit. It had felt good to be liked on his own merit, and not as a stand-in for someone else.

Gustave considers what he's learned since he's sat down at the trunk of this tree, facing north to Verso's west. They'd been betrayed, but it hadn't been out of malice. It felt like the inconsequential parts of their relationships with him were — probably, mostly real. It wasn't nothing.

He isn't sure when he's going to trust Verso again, if he can; but that doesn't make him evil, doesn't somehow inoculate Verso against the tension and anxiety of the situation. Gustave runs his hand through his hair, visibly torn about what to do. After a moment, he twists to face Verso properly, reaching out to clumsily pull him into the sort of embrace he'd employ with Maelle on her worst days.

"Just hold still here for a second," he grumps, a quiet command.

"I'm not complaining," he's sure to say as he remains very still, "but I'm not sure if this logically follows." Gustave should be breaking his neck right now, honestly.

"I need a hug after today, and you're the closest person available." If Verso can tell glib lies, then so can Gustave. It's awkward as fuck, but who even cares at this point.

"Okay," Verso says, because he's not sure what else to say, and pats Gustave on the back awkwardly. He's not quite sure if this is an attempted rekindling of their relationship(?) or just a mental break after discovering everything about the world Gustave knows is fake. Maybe both, considering he'd have to have the latter to do the former. "I guess it wouldn't be very cordial to deny you. Monsieur."

It's neither of those, or at least not intentionally. Whilst it's true he'll be regarding pretty much everything Verso says with scrutiny for the foreseeable future, he also doesn't hate him, and he has no idea how to communicate that with words.

There's no suggestiveness to it, no stroking or wandering hands, though it is fairly tight as far as embraces go. Gustave makes a sound of complaint as he rests his chin on Verso's shoulder.

"This is going to get very awkward if you don't actually hug me back, you know. I can wait it out." Back pats don't count when you're being corporally cuddled.

"Yeah, it's not at all awkward now," Verso says lightly, but he places a hand on Gustave's back, reciprocating for a moment before pulling away.

"You really should go. She's the one who needs a hug."

And, as much as he'd like to be the one to give it, he can acknowledge that their relationship is— complicated. There are some fraught feelings there. Not like with Gustave; their connection is simple.

"I think Maelle and I have said all we need to say to each other tonight." He leans back, shaking his head slightly at Verso. "But if you're not ready to talk to her yet- she can be patient."

"We've talked." You don't know his life. Not extensively, but as much as they'd needed to get things back on track. Maelle had seemed particularly enthusiastic about protecting the Canvas and bringing back her friends, and he hadn't had it in him to do anything other than assist her. "She's difficult to say no to."

Gustave casts a sidelong glance at Verso, quiet and considering. "She's stubborn as hell, it's true." He shifts, shifting to bring his pack to his lap, digging through for his journal. Distracting himself, obviously, before he asks: "Let me know. If you're ever open for - convincing."

He's going to assume it was a platitude, a deferment made with the assumption that they would never live to see this day together. Gustave hasn't untangled his own feelings about this new reality enough to know what he wants, yet, but - it's good to know what's on the table when making plans.

Verso raises an eyebrow. "I should let you know that you aren't as hard up as you clearly think you are." Have some standards, man. He's a traitor, a liar, and he's basically Gustave's brother-once-removed. Surely at least one of those things is a dealbreaker. "It would be the gallant thing to do."

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