superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

"You think you can last five minutes against me? Bold," Gustave says a little breathlessly — but it's mostly said to make Verso laugh, his eyes back to searching his face. He stretches his arm out to his side, summoning his sword like he's egging Verso on.

"I'd go as far as six," he teases, and he is laughing; mission accomplished. He holds his hand out and conjures his sword, but— "You know, most people would be lighting a cigarette right now." A post-coital challenge to a duel is insane. Gustave should know that.

Gustave points at Verso, shaking his head — chastising. "No, no, those things are awful for your health," he says, clucking his tongue. "A death sentence, really. What do I get when I win?"

When Gustave wins. Very bold for someone whose arms are the size of twigs.

"A sense of accomplishment?" is sheepish, and then he laughs again, gesturing to himself. "I'm afraid I don't have anything to offer."

"Unimaginative," Gustave sighs, taking a step forward to indicate he's planning to attack.

And! He'll do pretty okay, thank you very much! He will be the one to fling his arm up to breathlessly concede defeat, but he's not ashamed of his performance. "Okay, okay, fine. Give me a minute, and we can head back."

Verso goes easy on him, for the record.

And he does give Gustave a minute, not only because he's a little breathless himself. He wants to check in before Gustave has to return to the others; his fingers brush Gustave's elbow briefly, and he says, "Feeling better?"

This had all been ostensibly to cheer Verso up, but he'd seen the unrest on Gustave's face after they'd brought Noco back. Something about it had been upsetting, and Verso can imagine why. It's difficult to contend with the realities of this existence. He's been doing it for decades, and it's still hard; Gustave has only had a few days.

"Yeah," Gustave answers, and he closes a little more of the space between them when Verso gets close enough to touch him. "Thanks." He's aware that he probably wasn't as subtle as he'd hoped to be, and he cuts his eyes down, reaching forward to pluck at the hem of Verso's shirt like he's pulling out a wrinkle.

"Thanks. This was— yeah. Thank you."

Gustave is close enough to kiss again, and his mind lingers on that thought for longer than is strictly sane.

"I live to please," he repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice, before taking a step away and beckoning Gustave to follow. "Come on."

Gustave's mind is in the exact same place — enough that when Verso steps away, he catches that beckoning hand so he can pull himself in and steal one more quick kiss from him. "Sorry," he whispers, smile slightly crooked, when he releases him. "Back to camp."

And unless stayed for any reason, that's exactly where he'll head, with only a small measure of reluctance.

Impulsively, Verso tugs Gustave back in by the sleeve to kiss him in a deeper, more enduring way. He tells himself that it's purely a physical urge.

When he withdraws, his face has gone slightly flushed again. "Back to camp," he echoes, and leads them back to the others. It's exceedingly obvious what they've been up to when they stumble back into camp, and Sciel catches Verso's eye to give him an encouraging smile. Merde.

"I should check on Monoco," he says before doing just that, settling down on the ground beside him and speaking to him in a soft, comforting tone. Meanwhile, Maelle sidles up to Gustave, hands clasped faux-innocently behind her back.

"Am I still not allowed to bring it up, ever?"

Gustave cringes slightly at Maelle's approach, nodding to beckon her to follow, just to give Verso and Monoco a little more space. It suddenly feels — well, disrespectful, really, to have snuck off while Monoco was grieving to fool around so close to the gestrals' sacred resurrection river, but, well. Too late to undo it now.

"Well, I'm fairly certain I couldn't stop you if I wanted to." His tone is lighthearted, but there's genuine concern on his face when he glances at her. "You're not going to disown me?"

Maelle shoots Gustave a pointed look. "I didn't disown you when one of your inventions nearly burned my hair off." An accident, of course. Gustave's intentions were pure then, and she knows they're pure now. They always are. "I'm not going to disown you now for having a secret boyfriend."

It's weird. She can fully admit that it's weird. But: "As long as you're happy."

Wow, that's a complicated thing to hear from her, because he's not fully sure he can be. Gustave has never dealt well with feelings of helplessness, and now more than ever it feels like he's been cast into a situation where he's able to do nothing but his best to stay afloat as he drifts along with the current.

Luckily, he's tired enough that the grimace on his face doesn't convey any of that — he just seems as exasperated as he always does when she's teasing him. "'Boyfriend' is an extremely loaded word. But would you make sure Verso gets the message, too? He stays pretty worried about what you think of him."

Which is pretty funny, because for the vast majority of her life, Maelle has been under the impression that Verso is perfect. "I'll pass it along," she says regardless.

"I'm glad you two made up, actually." Obviously, she noticed when her two favorite people in the world weren't talking. She pulls a face. "You were going to make it so awkward when we were all together in Lumière." She would have been stuck between them like a child from a broken household.

Gustave hums at that, glancing over again to where Verso is consoling Monoco. How sure are you of your plan and We're just using each other are both things he might say to anyone else he was having this conversation with. Instead, since it's with Maelle, Gustave just chuckles.

"You make it sound like we're all going to be in one big house together. I don't know how well Emma would take that."

That's how Maelle lived, once — everyone she cared about in the world under one roof. One big, happy family. It feels like centuries ago now.

She pokes Gustave in the ribs, playful and lighthearted. "Emma will want us to be happy." Emma will just be thrilled that they're both alive. Maelle will have so much to tell her, so much to explain. She scarcely knows where to begin. "But I suppose he can live down the street."

She doesn't want family too far away. She never wants to feel like an orphan adrift in the world again, and now she never has to.

It's a fact that Maelle will have a home with Gustave as long as Gustave is alive, but it still surprises him just a little when she says he can live down the street instead of we. Merde. If Verso isn't planning to return to Lumière, he's going to need to have an extremely difficult discussion with her.

"Oh, I see. Convenient to have a place to run off to when you get in trouble for not eating your vegetables. Rascal." As if this were a situation that had or would ever happen. "Come on, I need to revise my notes on gestrals. Come help me."

Maelle giggles at the idea of Gustave being such a stern disciplinarian that she'd need somewhere to run to. In his dreams. She links their arms, smiling up at him with stars in her eyes. Much has changed for her, but one thing that won't—not ever—is her adoration for Gustave. Teasing, she says, "That reminds me: we need to discuss this unpaid editor work..."

"I've always been very upfront about my plan to pay you in exposure," Gustave tells her, and can't help but think that if anything is worth all of this, it's Maelle's happiness. She deserves that and so much more.

It's Sciel's turn on the middle shift that night, and she wakes Verso for his early morning one with a wide yawn and a gentle shake. "Up and at 'em, trooper." And while she's settling in to catch another few hours of her own, she'll ask with a genuine-seeming expression of concern: "Did you really have to go so hard on Gustave during your little duel? It's been a while since I've seen him that battered."

She is, of course, talking about the blossoming bruise she'd peeped on his shoulder while he changed.

As he forces himself to sit up, he squints, uncomprehending—he'd been very careful not to really hurt Gustave during their duel—until some semblance of alertness comes back to him. Right, the bites (multiple). For a moment, he doesn't say anything; the benefit of distance has not made his feelings on their intimacy any clearer. On one hand, it feels unsustainable and somewhat painful to put himself through this. On the other, the orgasm did help him sleep better than he has in years.

Finally, he quips, "Should I be worried about you watching me when I take my clothes off, too?"

It doesn't worry him. He feels a sort of kinship with Sciel, and he can't rightly criticize her when they're of matching libidos.

Sciel gives him a sleepy smile. "Only if you're undressing in my line of sight. But I promise to only peek through my hands." She keeps her voice a soft murmur, doesn't want to risk waking anyone else up — doesn't want to wake herself up much more than she already is, either. She'd spent a little of her time that evening ruminating about Gustave and Verso, curious about the direction of their relationship... and, ultimately, just hoping that it remains pleasant for them both.

"Are you having a good time?" That seems like a question she can ask.

Sciel is sweet to ask, and Verso feels the urge to blurt out 'no' and receive her comfort. The person he really wants to talk to, he realizes, is Clea. He wants to lay his head down in her lap and have her tell him that he's ridiculous and dramatic. Once a little brother, always a little brother.

But Clea isn't here, and Sciel doesn't owe him comfort. "As good a time I can have when I'm still smarting from your rejection." It's only a tease. The proposition had meant little, and the rejection had meant less. Her company is what matters, not what form it takes.

"Is it time for you to corner me and ask my intentions, or do we still have a bit left before that?"

Sciel is drowsy, her processing sluggish, which is why it takes a few seconds to figure out why Verso's answer prickles. She's used to his evasive answers for most things, but are you having a good time wasn't a question she'd anticipated him needing or particularly wanting to avoid.

She yawns widely again and sits back up, patting the ground next to her. Come here, you is the only possible meaning. "I thought you made it very clear this morning that your intentions were 'just passing time.' Is that no longer the case?"

Ah, right. In his half-asleep stupor, he remembers that he had not only said that, but he'd believed it, too. Verso tries very hard to inhabit that person rather than this person, who has so many stupid, sadsack feelings.

"It is," he answers as he settles down beside her, picking idly at blades of grass. "I'd just expected the third degree anyway."

They're all so very protective of each other, after all. Like family.

"Sure," Sciel agrees, masking one last yawn with her hand. Something had clearly gone sideways. She turns the situation over in her mind, tries to figure out what could have happened to shift Verso's demeanor from what it was last night to where it is now.

She leans her shoulder into his with a little wince. "I bet... Gustave isn't so great at the 'casual' part, huh. And you don't want to hurt him?" A stab only mostly in the dark.

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