tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

It's pretty insane, actually, that Gustave was even willing to do this after seeing Verso's /r/MaleLivingSpace. Pickings really are slim.

The thought of denying Gustave now is very tempting, but Verso is a people pleaser first and an annoying person second, and the encouragement only spurs him on. Again, Gustave wildly underestimates how hot he is; his voice saying just like that is going to be on repeat in Verso's head for at least a week.

He can tell Gustave is close, and, well, he has a pretty good idea of what gets a guy like this, who tried to cuddle him after their no-strings-attached blowjob exchange in the woods, off. So, he keeps up the steady pump of his hand and leans in toward Gustave's ear like the male manipulator he is, voice soft as he says, "Mon chéri. You're perfect."

[superniceone]

Wow! Verso is blatantly and effortlessly playing him like a fiddle, and Gustave is absolutely defenseless against it. He's going to be weirdly annoyed by it later, when he has the time to sit back and actually think about what they've done out here together in this depressing little shack. For now, though, he's going to shiver and clutch Verso as that shoves him predictably, panting, across the finish line.

Gustave leans forward to rest his weight against Verso for just a few seconds — just long enough to collect himself and try to even out his own breathing — before he moves to grab for his trousers from ground. He only has to fight with one pant leg a little, caught between some uneven boards. "Good guy talk," he says, the slightest sheen of sweat on his brow.

[recreatable]

It goes both ways: Gustave knew what Verso like before he came with him to his hut. If he didn't want to be manipulated a little during sex, he really shouldn't have taken his clothes off at all.

Verso laughs, then goes searching for something he can use to clean up the mess in his hand. Surely there's a cloth or rag somewhere around here. He yanks one out of a wayward crate, wiping his palm before standing and holding it out for Gustave.

"How do I rank on dates?"

[superniceone]

Gustave accepts the cloth with gratitude and tries not to think about how desperately he misses hot showers. "No complaints here," he says, leaning down to start tugging on his insane little boots. There's still the urge to follow sex with emotional intimacy; he's discomfited by the fact that it feels transactional, but it's better to swallow his own unease than to just risk making it outright weird again by trying to loiter in the moment after.

He tilts his head at the books, practically cavalier compared to the way he'd tried to tentatively coax affection from Verso following their previous encounters. "You really don't mind if I borrow one or two?"

inserts my own slutty v neck icon

[recreatable]

For the record, if it feels transactional, it's because Gustave has made it transactional. Verso hadn't expected to cuddle by any means, but he had expected some level of physical affection after all of this, so when Gustave immediately starts talking about books again, he tilts his head in confusion for a moment before awkwardly tugging his pants back on.

"Oh," he says as he steps back into his shoes, trying not to sound like Gustave's shift in behavior is surprising or disappointing. "No, not at all."

He scans the little hut for his shirt, finding it crumpled in a pile under the table. He crouches to retrieve it, saying, drolly, "We can start a book club."

you love to see it tbh

[superniceone]

Gustave straightens up, pulling his shirt on over his head as he struggles to try to read Verso's tone. He's trying to be respectful by keeping things businesslike, but that confused head tilt has thrown him slightly.

There's the impulse to beat around the bush, but if they're both evasive and avoidant, they're never going to talk about anything. "'Oh'? Oh, what?" What has he done this time??

[recreatable]

He can't say oh now??? He tugs his own shirt back on—of course fixing his hair afterward—before standing back up and saying, "It's an interjection, I think. Fifteenth letter of the alphabet, too."

[superniceone]

"Verso." Gustave folds his arms loosely, watching him as he finishes getting dressed. "Please talk to me?"

[recreatable]

Gustave is so dramatic (says the most dramatic man in the world). It's an 'oh'! A somewhat confused, disappointed 'oh', but an 'oh' nonetheless.

"I meant nothing by it," he says, taking a few steps over to briefly rub Gustave's shoulder, reassuring, and— he's not sure how he ended up comforting Gustave over this, actually. "You just seem different today."

[superniceone]

Gustave won't complain about the comfort, though it isn't necessarily what he was seeking. He lifts his hand, gently clasping Verso's forearm, trying to stay it for a moment. "It makes you uncomfortable when I get— sappy." When he acts like they're true lovers, and not whatever... this is. "Maybe I swung too far the other way."

He hesitates, then adds, quiet and fond in his teasing: "Mon chéri."

[recreatable]

Ah. He resists the urge to cringe. The endearment had sounded a lot better in the heat of the moment.

"...Uncomfortable isn't exactly the word I'd use." Undeserving, maybe. Like he's going to ruin everything. It's too much to get into, so he doesn't try. Instead, he crosses his arms, silent for a moment as he contemplates what to say before landing on, "You know, in nearly seven decades, you're the first person I've brought here."

Again, maybe visiting Verso's shitty little hut means nothing to Gustave, but it means something to him. It's a glaringly imperfect part of himself that he saw fit to share with Gustave. He's trying here.

[superniceone]

The admission helps recontextualize things for a second time that afternoon. As much as he teases him for the hut, Gustave doesn't see it as good or bad, perfect or imperfect — it just something that exists because it is necessary.

"Hm," he says to that, and then takes a seat in the empty spot on the floor (also known in some circles as Verso's bedroom.) "Hand one of those books here and sit with me for a minute? I need a little more time to recover before I'm able to brave the gestral marketplace again."

[recreatable]

"I was serious about the book club," he says as he swipes a couple of dusty books off the table for Gustave to peruse. He settles down next to Gustave, legs crossed, books in front of him. "We'll see who solves the mystery first, you or Detective Holmes."

[superniceone]

Gustave takes the top book from the pile, sort of just leaning his arm into Verso's as he opens it up. "I told you, Maelle always reads ahead." He pauses, then laughs quietly. "But I guess I'll have a lot more free time than I used to."

[recreatable]

"All the time in the world," he agrees, shifting so that their knees brush slightly. Funny; the future is probably an abstract concept for Gustave. He can't really imagine what that's like. "What are you going to do with it?"

[superniceone]

"Dunno. Ridiculous, isn't it? I really was so sure we were going to do it. But I never really spent much time thinking about what that'd actually mean for me, personally." Gustave allows himself the luxury of actually leaning his weight into Verso; he's still very much sitting up, isn't cuddling into him, but— it's still kind of comfortable.

[recreatable]

"You didn't fantasize even a little bit?" He extends a hand like a marquee: "Famous inventor, hero of Lumière, eligible bachelor. You had to have imagined what it would be like."

[superniceone]

"Maybe— in abstract, sure. But I'm not the leader of 33. I was meant to be one name in a long list." Gustave smiles a little ruefully down at his own hands on the book. "I don't know. I wanted to see Maelle and my apprentices grow up. I wanted to see Emma get old. I'm not expecting a statue in the harbor, if that's what you're asking."

[recreatable]

"Hey, don't knock a harbor statue."

But he gets it, maybe. Gustave had expected to return to Lumière as invisible as he'd left it, if he returned at all. He hadn't thought his little sister would turn out to be the de facto god of this world. Reasonable.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with taking it one day at a time."

[superniceone]

"Perhaps," Gustave says, then sighs, turning enough so that his back rests against Verso's arm, propping himself up that way. It's a thoughtless, friendly sort of slouch. "I'm going to drink a carafe of coffee the second the city is back up and running again."

[recreatable]

Verso recognizes that having done so is his own fault, but it's still nice not to immediately find a reason to abscond after sex. It doesn't feel romantic, really, sitting here on the floor, but it does feel companionable, which has to count for something.

"That can't be what you miss most about civilization." He raises a skeptical brow. Maybe it's just the whole 'living in the wilderness for decades' thing, but there's quite a few things that he'd name before coffee, like— "What about the people? The culture?"

He nudges Gustave with an elbow. "I would think the lack of gestrals rated higher."

[superniceone]

"I haven't been gone from civilization that long," Gustave says with a quiet laugh, leaning his head back. "But I imagine some gestrals will end up in Lumière before too long. It's going to be— a long transition."

[recreatable]

Oh, Monoco would do well in Lumière. All those children to entertain. Maybe not full time, but it has to be better than wasting away at that station.

"I know what you can spend your time on," he says suddenly, glancing over at Gustave. "You can get the trains running again."

[superniceone]

Well.

That actually stunlocks him for a moment. "There's— a lot we'd need to do before that was feasible, just infrastructure-wise. But it would be amazing to get at least one up and running, wouldn't it? Even just for people to navigate across the Continent without Esquie." His voice is almost cautiously excited, but Verso will probably feel more than hear the way that he sighs. That's the sort of thing Maelle will be able to able to fix with a wave of her paintbrush, isn't it?

"Hey," he murmurs. "If this— confrontation with her father doesn't go as planned. She'll be alright, won't she?"

[recreatable]

Verso worries his lip. "She'll be fine," he says, because that's what he has to tell himself. In the real world, Maelle is trapped in a burned body with a dead brother and a mother who resents her. It doesn't feel good to think about it, but—

It'll get better.

"She's his favorite. Everything he does is for her."

Sounds familiar. Maelle has a way of attracting that in people.