tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

"You will not." Even though her nose is red and stuffy now, she giggles. "I thought it was just a few drinks! Now it's drinking like a fish?" She wriggles one of her hands free, then uses it to poke Gustave in the forehead. "You can't keep your story straight."

[superniceone]

"Last night was a few drinks. All bets are off tonight. I'm going to be out causing all kinds of trouble." Gustave swallows again and looks up at her; his tone is carefully light now, but there's no hiding the genuine distress under the slipping mask, not this close.

He releases her hand and stands up, moving to take his tepid cup of coffee. "But I should probably do some work before I start the day drinking."

[recreatable]

Maelle feels a pang of guilt at the way Gustave looks, but— he just doesn't get it. He never could. Even setting aside her burned body and familial strife, the Dessendres aren't exactly known for respecting each other's wishes. The only real way to keep the Canvas safe is to stay in it.

"Are you going to draw more Sakapatates?" Yes, she saw those blueprints.

[superniceone]

Gustave tends to be the sort of man who can't sit still for long. He's always felt like he's on the cusp of running out of time; it made true idleness difficult to bear.

So he pauses when he hears Maelle's question, before he smiles sort of listlessly and admits: "I think I'm just going to go back to bed, actually." For maybe the first time in his life.

[recreatable]

Well, all Maelle has to say to that is an incredulous "...Really?"

[superniceone]

"I know you won't disappoint me. You never have. But until it's settled, I just..." Gustave just sort of shrugs as he trails off, giving her a small wave before he moves to head back to his bedroom.

He isn't trying to guilt her. He just, very genuinely, feels extremely unwell. Everything they'd been through, and he still wasn't sure he could even save Maelle.

I wasn't done.

[recreatable]

Wow, way to make her feel bad. Now both of her ChatGPT brothers are moody. Emma is all she has left now.

"I'm confiscating the wine bottles," she calls.

too bad....

[superniceone]

Gustave won't object — he'll just tidily stack them outside his bedroom door for her, actually, if she's offering to take care of the trash. He's got big plans that mostly involve forgetting he agreed to meet with Verso and staring at the wall, and he's just going to get on those, thanks.

fuck my stupid baka life

[recreatable]

Good, honestly, because now Gustave won't notice that Verso is late. It isn't that he doesn't believe in Gustave, it's just that he doesn't, you know, have faith in Gustave. Hard to live this long and not come out the other side pessimistic. Things just never seem to work out the way he wishes they would.

As long as he doesn't actually ask Gustave what happened, he can't be disappointed, like Schrodinger's Maelle. So, despite promising to come back after breakfast, he avoids Gustave's place until well into the late afternoon, when he finally knocks on the door.

It's Emma who lets him in, not Maelle — thank god. He stands in the entryway with her for a few moments, and yes, maybe he flirts with her a teeny tiny bit out of habit, before she calls, "Gustave! —Honestly, I haven't seen him all day."

[superniceone]

There's a long stretch of silence. Gustave had been genuinely half dozing at that point, hadn't heard the knock on the door and — well, honestly, he isn't even fully sure what time it is. "I'm working, what is it?" He calls, still very much from bed where he's lying in his rumpled day clothes.

Emma just rolls her eyes and indicates Gustave's bedroom door. "He's home, then. I'll leave you to it."

[recreatable]

Auspicious.

Verso takes one step inside Gustave's room and raises an eyebrow. Working, is it? He stuffs his hands into his pockets, hovering in the doorway.

Flatly: "I can come back, if you're nearing a breakthrough."

[superniceone]

Gustave sits up quickly, like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't, and stares at Verso for a long second. "Fuck," he says after a second, and allows himself to fall back in the mattress again. "Shut the door."

[recreatable]

"Not exactly the warm welcome I was hoping for."

Having someone utter fuck at the very sight of him is not flattering. Still, he closes the door gently before perching at the foot of Gustave's bed, a polite distance between them.

"Want to talk about it?" It's not really necessary. Judging by Gustave's attitude right now, he already knows how the conversation with Maelle went.

[superniceone]

If it helps, it was more at the having forgotten plans than at the actual sight of Verso. "Getting her to leave is going to make her hate me, and it's going to hurt her, and I'm just— prematurely wallowing in self-loathing." He wants to reach out to Verso, but it feels like cheating to let himself seek comfort.

[recreatable]

That's pretty much where he's at, too, although it isn't at all relieving to know he isn't alone in his feelings. He wishes he'd never said anything to Gustave at all. All the truth ever does is make things painful and complicated.

"She could never hate you," he says, tone consoling. "She thinks you hung the stars in the sky."

It's Verso who did that, actually. The real one.

[superniceone]

"She won't by the time I've forced her to return to a family she doesn't want to see against her will," Gustave exhales, then shakes his head. "Sorry. I had hoped to— I wanted to cheer you up."

[recreatable]

Verso's pretty sure Maelle couldn't even hate Gustave then, either. He's had to listen to her yap about how great Gustave is for long enough that he can be certain of that. Clearly, though, Gustave is in the wallowing stage, and rational argument will do nothing to improve his mood. Verso's very familiar with this stage, because it's pretty much the stage he's in all the time.

"I'm cheery," he says, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on Gustave's calf. "Don't I look cheery?"

[superniceone]

Gustave squints a little at him, like he's almost offended that Verso is making light of the situation — but what else is he meant to do about it? He swears softly under his breath and flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Did I really smell that bad on the Expedition?" he asks, apropos of nothing (or, Maelle's comment.)

[recreatable]

Oh, my god!!! Gustave doesn't like when he's mopey, and he doesn't like when he makes light of things, either. There really is no pleasing this man.

Verso's still going to try, though, because it's what he does. "Compared to Monoco, you smelled like roses." They all smelled bad out there; he doesn't need to make Gustave feel self-conscious!

[superniceone]

Well, it hadn't prevented Verso from sleeping with him!! So he's going to choose to take that as confirmation that he was fine, actually.

"Okay." He pauses, still watching the ceiling. "Can I ask you to lay down for a few minutes, or was going dark meant to be an implied breakup?"

Gustave genuinely isn't being snarky; he's trying to figure out where the lines are and he's too drained to mince words.

[recreatable]

Verso doesn't need to breathe to live, so canon is that he just held his breath every time he got close to Gustave.

The call-out is a little rude despite Gustave's intentions, and he feels the urge to tell him that everything isn't about you, you know, but— "You can ask."

Which is not a 'no' to the implied breakup, actually. —Ah, damn. He was supposed to explicitly break up with Gustave today, save him from having his life, too, polluted by Verso. Tomorrow, definitely.

In an attempt to make Gustave crack a smile, he says, "But I expect a pretty please at minimum."

[superniceone]

Gustave isn't vain enough to think that ending things between them would have been anything more than an incidental, bonus consequence of having just vanished for more than a week, but he's privately relieved that's not the case.

He's pretty sure he can sense the writing on the wall, anyway. Maybe it was absurd in the first place for Gustave to think either of them would ever be in the right place emotionally for a relationship, much less with each other. Still. He'll hold on to what he's got while he's got it.

"Pretty please?" he asks shamelessly, shifting to prop himself up on one elbow. He's trying to cash in his big spoon allotment.

[recreatable]

Aww, Gustave has no right to be this fucking easy. Verso shucks off his shoes and crawls up beside him, settling down on his side so that he can look at Gustave in all of his depression era glory. He gets it; wallowing in bed is a time-tested tradition, one he's personally verified the effectiveness of many times.

"I have to admit, you do smell better now." Another attempt to make Gustave smile. The clownery will continue until Gustave's morale improves.

[superniceone]

There's another pang of guilt caused by this insane feedback loop of regret they're constantly triggering in each other. Verso shouldn't need to be the one comforting him right then.

"I have," he starts, trying to maneuver Verso in a way that will let Gustave hold him in a position comfortable enough to linger in, "a very large bath."

[recreatable]

Except that Verso is under the impression he's supposed to be the one doing the holding here, so they end up doing a little unintentional light wrestling as Verso tries to maneuver himself the complete opposite way. "I can't tell if you're trying to invite me into your bath or—"

Halfway through, he finally realizes what Gustave is trying to do, and he gives up, genuinely laughing at the absurdity. This is so stupid.

"—if you're just bragging about your bathtub," he finishes after a moment, rubbing his face.