superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

Gustave has made a mistake in laughing at him, because now he doubles down in an attempt to entertain. "Putting aside the maligning of my good name," because he'd never, ever, ever make things up, "you do have me there. I'm actually terrified that you'll usurp my position as Monoco's big spoon."

Gustave waves both of his hands in front of him, very much a no, no gesture. "Don't worry, I won't be auditioning for the spot. I can't lose an arm and a foot, people will start thinking I'm doing it on purpose."

"And then he'd be able to transform into you, and I'm not sure I'm ready to contend with that."

You know, as if this isn't already weird enough. But Monoco would (probably...) never, and if anyone's good name is being maligned, it's his. Verso laughs, then throws his own hands up. "All right, fine. You've twisted my arm — I'll get you drunk and watch you try to dance like Esquie." Like it's a favor.

"Hmm. But only near the end of your trial month in Lumière." Gustave gently jabs him in the rib with an elbow. "Because there is zero chance you're still going to be attracted to me after that."

"That's one way to get rid of me," he says, not unkindly. He's still attracted to Gustave even after all of the cornball shit he says, so it's highly debatable whether a little Esquie-dancing could change that. "But you should know that I'm actually wildly attracted to bad dancing."

Gustave laughs again, because this is all so ridiculous, and then impulsively asks a question he'd meant to told onto until it was more relevant. Idly he picks up a stone, chucks it toward the lake. "If I asked you not to dance with anyone else that first month back." Well, okay, it's more of an implied question at the end of a blurted statement, but there's no going back now.

Verso's eyes flick from Gustave's stone-throwing hand to his face, eyebrows raised expectantly. "—That almost sounded like a question."

Gustave rolls his eyes, because you know what he was indirectly almost asking!! "Would that be a problem?" he says calmly, after a long pause.

During that (painfully awkward) pause, Verso's fingers scrabble for another stone. He's still entirely ignorant of the significance behind Gustave's rock-throwing, but he replicates the action once Gustave finally asks anyway, tossing it and watching it descend beneath the water. It's probably the first time he's watched that happen and not fantasized about sinking underneath himself.

Lightly: "That's an awful way to ask someone to be exclusive." Make an effort.

Gustave likes to tell himself he's gotten better at understanding Verso, but the fact of the matter is that isn't really true. He thinks he knows the answer, thinks that this must be mutual enough that they're on the same page — but he'd sort of thought that before, and then he'd watched Verso leave the fire with Sciel's hand tucked into his elbow.

"I didn't want to make it sound like an ultimatum," he says a bit defensively. "There will be a lot of young, beautiful people in the city, and— I would just prefer it if—"

Gustave groans at himself.

"Is that Maelle calling for me? I think it is." Maelle is currently propped up against Esquie, half asleep.

All right, maybe that was too glib. It's hard to know where to strike a balance, figure out what kind of person Gustave would like him to be. "Hey," he says, hand on Gustave's elbow, sounding not unlike someone trying to calm a spooked horse. Then, mouth quirking up: "I'm messing with you."

Honestly, he'd thought his feelings on the matter so obvious that they didn't need elucidating. He'd taken Gustave on a date, or at least whatever passes for one on the Continent, and he'd spent the day practically crawling on his knees to try to please Gustave. If he doesn't understand by now that Verso likes him, then Verso has to question if that brain of his is as big as previously thought.

But if it's really that unclear, he'll clarify. "As it turns out, I don't want to dance with anyone else."

He won't ask the same question back, though. He's still half-prepared to have his position usurped by Sophie and her fuckass bob the moment they set foot in Lumiére.

A date in the woods was hardly a declaration of feelings or intent, especially with someone as chronically evasive as a Dessendre. "I know you're messing with me," Gustave groans, and he gently shakes Verso's hand off. That's why he was embarrassed, actually!! "But thank you."

He's still slightly overwhelmed with the concept of what Lumière, what life in Lumière is going to look like if they're able to return. It's not like Verso had ever been a part of his pre-Expedition life in the first place; maybe it's unfair to expect to use him as an anchor when they return.

"Okay. That's settled. They always say a little post-dinner humiliation is good for the complexion." Hope you never expected him to be a normal, non-embarrassing man, Verso.

"Humiliation is a bit dramatic," he points out. Don't be like this, chouchou! Shaking off his hand and everything.

Gustave had seemed nervous, and he'd only meant to take the edge off, but it seems more like he put the edge on. He hates the idea of someone being displeased with him, so— "Hey. Ask me again."

It doesn't matter if Gustave actually complies, because the moment he opens his mouth to respond, Verso says (with dramatic flair), "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

It's still teasing, but he hopes the crooked grin on his face communicates that it's playful, affectionate teasing, not mean-spirited. "Enthusiastic enough?"

Gustave— well, he's not any less embarrassed, that's for sure, but the melodramatic way he's groaning does hopefully convey that he's not exactly stressed about it.

"You're... how old, again? You've had a hundred years to stop being such a brat, and this is really where you landed?" His grousing is clearly just as affectionate, and he reaches out to briefly grab and squeeze Verso's knee.

Brat!! Not necessarily untrue, but he still shouldn't say it, especially considering that Verso was just trying to make him laugh. He lets the comment roll off his shoulders, though, giving Gustave a good-natured nudge with his knee. "I've spent the past century perfecting how to be a brat, actually."

"I can tell. You're the only person I've ever met who makes it appealing instead of annoying." Is Verso his boyfriend? Does he have a boyfriend? That feels like an insane word to use given the circumstances (literally unprecedented circumstances, with not a goddamn normal moment between them), and even without them— too juvenile for a man of thirty-two to use.

So he won't use the word, but he is going to wonder.

"How's Lune doing, by the way? She seems... caught up in thought. I haven't wanted to interrupt."

He has a Problem, which is kind of like having a boyfriend.

It feels strange to have Gustave ask him how Lune is doing, considering that Gustave has known Lune her whole life. There's a shared camaraderie, though, between people with insane parents, so he does feel he understands what Lune is experiencing better than most.

"I'm sure she'd appreciate your company." She's brooding, yes—he knows what that looks like—but comfort from a friend can rarely go wrong. "Parents are... complicated." Hers more than most. They loved her, he's sure, but they also loved what she could do for them, what she represented. Maybe they loved that more than who she really was. It's a familiar feeling. "Lots of impossible expectations."

It would be- well, a severe overstatement to say that Gustave and Lune have been fighting, or even that there's any real tension between them at all. She has implied frustration or disappointment a few times, subtle and incisive and in a way that makes him wish she'd just employ her usual matter-of-fact bluntness. He knows ultimately she's worried he's letting himself get distracted from the mission, wishes he'd save this weird sort-of-sneaking-around until business was all settled, but their clashing approaches to the Expedition had been a throughline for them since she'd found him after the beach. Why change it now, he thinks wryly.

Still. He'd approach when she seemed a little more receptive to it. He recognises her current look, focused on unpeeling some idea layer by layer; Gustave is sure he'd be waved off if he tried to initiate anything now.

"Mm." He's pausing, weighing his own words. "I can't relate, actually. My parents were great. Not to rub it in." He still missed them fiercely.

"Brag, why don't you?"

Must be nice to have a family that isn't completely unhinged. He's not offended, though; it's a nice change in conversation. Something pleasant. Their loss probably feels like a crater in Gustave's heart, if it's anything like Verso's experience losing family, but at least these ones have the potential to come back.

Weird. They'd be like Maelle's grandparents. Again, that's a strange family dynamic he's not sure how to navigate.

"I'm sure they'll be impressed with everything you've accomplished."

Gustave casts a sidelong glance at Verso, hesitating before he shakes his head no. "I think the city of Lumière will fare a lot better if we focus on the future instead of the past."

And he doesn't know what Maelle's limitations will be, knows that the city is going to need to be able to stand on its own without her. Simply bringing back a century of dead would crush the city beneath the weight of its own people.

Have a sidelong glance back!! He quirks one eyebrow, questioning. "Are you going to tell her that before or after she brings back everyone you knew?"

He's not judging, really. It's just curiosity. Someone has to decide which people deserve to live and which fade into oblivion.

Gustave hesitates, glancing at him again. His voice drops, cautious. "Are you sure that's going to be something she can even do? The chroma — how long will it hold onto memories? I worry we're putting the cart before the horse."

"I, uh, don't know." He's not exactly an expert on repainting things that have been erased for decades, especially not people. No one's ever bothered to do that before. "They might... be different." But, clearly, 'different' hasn't been a historical deterrent for bringing back the dead.

Gustave cringes at that, considering his own hands for a moment. "Yeah. Might be better to just keep the let the— past lie."

"Well, you turned out all right." Lightening the mood, as best he can. "I'm sure Maelle will... use her judgment."

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