tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[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.

[superniceone]

Gustave is baffled at first by the amount of difficulty they're having arranging themselves for a cuddle, and he's beginning to wonder if that's just Verso declining the advance in a very clunky way— before he figures it out, too. Verso's laughter is contagious, it turns out, and Gustave is still chuckling to himself as he curls his arm around Verso's waist and gently squeezes.

"Do I seem like the type to brag about bathroom fixtures? You can be honest."

[recreatable]

If Gustave had felt out of his depth during sex, it can't be anything compared to how embarrassingly out of practice Verso feels now, not having cuddled another human being in 67 years. He shifts a few times, unsure if he's meant to be facing Gustave or facing away from him, before he finally decides that face-to-face is probably too intimate for baby's first cuddling session in seven decades.

It still feels strange. Not bad, but unusual. Like he doesn't really belong here, but that's probably because he doesn't; somehow, despite everything, he fell into having one good thing that he very much doesn't deserve.

Not that he says any of that. "Oh, definitely," he says instead, wry. "Total bathtub snob."

[superniceone]

"Yeah, I thought that's how I came across," Gustave muses, and he should probably be embarrassed by how much obvious comfort it brings him to wrap someone up in his arms and settle into his pillow. He presses a small kiss to the side of Verso's neck, just in reflexive affection instead of an attempt to be titillating.

"We'll save her," he promises then, and he's sad but convicted. "You don't have to do these things alone anymore."

[recreatable]

That's sweet and all, but he'd sort of had the opposite thought, that he should tell Gustave not to worry about it anymore and that he'd figure it out himself, somehow. Gustave was in Verso's shoes for exactly one day and spent the majority of it in bed feeling sorry for himself. Verso can't judge, of course, because that's the same thing he's been doing for the past week, but it really doesn't feel like they both need to experience that.

"That's a surprising amount of optimism, given your premature wallowing."

[superniceone]

"I'm allowed to wallow. I think I might be depressed? I'm not entirely certain." Gustave says this with the strange clinical composure of the scientist he is. The conversation with Maelle had the catalyst, not the cause. He hurtled along at breakneck speed his entire life and never spent much time recovering from the whiplash from the way he'd abruptly stopped. He wants to look at the city and see it as flourishing; instead it feels stagnant, like a scum-covered stone at the bottom of a pond.

It wasn't until halfway through the first Sakapatate doodle that he realized how little joy he was finding in the things he'd loved pre-Expedition. Maybe he had come back wrong. Or—

"Just everything catching up, I think. The people's hero is allowed to spend a few days being a useless lump in bed."

[recreatable]

"The people's hero, huh?"

Said with an audible eye roll. But he does turn to look at Gustave now, because he's depressed, apparently, and talking about it with a sort of scientific detachment that doesn't suggest he's anywhere near the healing stage.

"If the people's hero needs to talk, I'm a pretty good shoulder to cry on." Just saying!! "Very absorbent."

[superniceone]

"Hey, you're the one who kept trying to prepare me for these droves of persistent fans." He's not looking back at him, but only because his eyes are closed. To his credit, he does seem comfortable. "I haven't given up hope with Maelle. I'm just— picking my battles."

[recreatable]

"She's..." He obviously doesn't want to say something unflattering about his favorite person in the world, but also, she's driving him nuts. "More independent than she used to be." Meaning she doesn't fucking listen.

"At least you haven't come to blows with her yet." Although he's starting to wonder if they might be able to force her out of the Canvas if they team up against her; Gustave probably couldn't bear the thought of raising arms against Maelle, though, so he doesn't bring it up.

[superniceone]

"Yet," Gustave echoes, unaware that he's having extremely similar thoughts to Verso. It's exactly what he's afraid of: Maelle becoming the next iteration of the Paintress. He's not worried about her Gommaging the world — he just doesn't want to watch her slowly kill herself. He can't imagine how Verso must feel.

He opens his eyes, smiling crookedly at him. "Tu me plais."

[recreatable]

"Oh, I see," he says, knowingly. "You only said all of that so I'd think you were sensitive and vulnerable."

Obviously, he doesn't think this is true; it's unfathomable that Gustave wouldn't be depressed under his current circumstances. But he hopes the absurdity of it will make Gustave laugh, or at least keep the smile on his face.

"I know all about that trick."

[superniceone]

"Is it working?" It is, objectively, very sad to think about all of the reasons why this thing between them is doomed to fail. He wishes he could tell his past self to be a little kinder about Verso's uncertainties, his hesitation. In another world, maybe. "Je t'adore."

[recreatable]

"Oh, yeah. I'm a sucker for sensitivity."

He definitely shouldn't be encouraging this, and he definitely should have told Gustave that, yes, the disappearing act was an implied break-up. If Gustave is depressed now, being involved with Verso is only going to make it worse. But he loves having something to feel guilty about, so he leans in and kisses Gustave instead.

"—And baby faces," he says upon pulling back, because although it hadn't been a lie that he looks nice shaven, it really makes Verso feel like a dirty old man preying on an innocent when Gustave has gone from 'handsome' to 'boyishly handsome'. "Although the riot is still forthcoming."

[superniceone]

"I do not have a baby face," Gustave scoffs, affronted, but he does seem pleased by the kiss. He gives him another, soft and lingering and sweet; they'd never really had the time for ones exactly like that. "But save your energy. It'll grow back."

He closes his eyes again, though his hand is gently sweeping Verso's side. Petting him, really, but his touch is light.

"Just another minute, and then I'll let you up."

[recreatable]

The facial hair is really necessary, because now he just looks like Edward Cullen!!!

Gustave closes his eyes, but Verso's stay open, watching Gustave's face. He looks more relaxed now, at least, wound marginally less tight than before. "Are you kicking me out?" he asks, and it's teasing, but there's a hint of sincerity. He gets it, really. Sometimes you want to wallow in your own misery alone.