"A week, and you're already sick of humans?" Same. "Give me three weeks, and we can go back for as long as you like."
Oh, merde. That first week 'didn't count'. If things with Maelle haven't changed by then, he really should return to the Continent. Remove one of the reasons she has to stay here — namely, the opportunity to pretend her brother isn't dead.
"—Four," he corrects. "I have some things to take care of here first."
If Monoco is shocked about anything, it's that Verso might let his roots grow out another four weeks before he heads back for a touch up — he's not sure he'd personally trust a human barber.
"Well, alright, if you insist," he says, like he's heavily put upon, and then he will promptly spend the rest of the morning trying to convince Verso that they should get a dog. You know, just for the month that they're going to be there.
They already have a dog, and it's Monoco!! But Monoco's presence does significantly improve his mood, and by the time the next day rolls around, Verso's hair is brushed and clothes are unwrinkled, and he's even trimmed his beard.
Also, he's wearing a hat. The roots are that bad.
Sometime in the evening, he makes his way to Gustave's home and knock-knock-knocks on the door.
Emma is usually the one who opens the door, because Emma is usually the one expecting guests — but when she sees Verso again, she'll just step back to give him space to come in. "Tell him to let me know if he's planning to disappear again," she says. "Maelle was worried." She'll leave him then to find his own way to Gustave's room.
The door to which is open this time, at least. There's a record playing in the corner, and he's leaning over his drafting table working on blueprints probably I don't know what I was trying to say either??? fully lost in his own little world.
Verso leans against the doorway for a long moment, watching Gustave as he scribbles. It's good to see him in presumably higher spirits; he's not lying in bed all day, at least. Finally: "Looks like you've beaten that creative block."
Edited (verso wouldn't have bad grammar like that) 2025-08-20 23:17 (UTC)
Gustave startles when he hears Verso's voice, his head snapping up to look at him. He's obviously not back to 100%, but there is actually color in his face again. "Hey." He puts the pencil down mid-equation, standing up. "I guess so." He pauses, and then ventures— "Nice hat."
Touching the hat self-consciously, he says, "Thanks." Don't make fun of him, he'll go into a depressive spiral again. "I can come back later if you're in the middle of innovating."
He wasn't making fun — he's just not used to Verso in a hat. He doesn't press it, instead just shaking his head, going to stop the music. "I need to take a break anyway. It's good to see you."
Good to see he hasn't yet fled to the Continent, Verso presumes, but he says, "You, too."
Then, casually, like he doesn't remember Maelle saying that she and Gustave used to go there: "I was just thinking that it's been ages since I've visited the Hanging Gardens."
Gustave isn't a man used to being duplicitous, isn't used to needing to school his expressions. There's undeniable interest there when Verso brings up the Hanging Gardens, and then he immediately tries to play it cool. "That could be fun— if you're sure you're up to going out? I don't mind staying in with you."
"I've been stuck in the house with Monoco for the past two days. I'm dying to get out."
Not really, but he can't trap Gustave in the house every time he comes around. Besides, he made himself look nice specifically for the purpose of 'going out' with Gustave, although he'd never admit that he didn't wake up like this, hat and all.
"That is," he says wryly, canting a head toward the blueprints, "if your genius can wait."
"Very funny." Verso does look nice, and Gustave seems torn for a split second, like he's not sure if he should greet him with a touch or a kiss or— anything at all, really. Finally he just decides to go to his closet, to dig out some clothes more suited to going out than just lounging. "Fresh air will be good for me."
"I'm surprised you didn't get enough fresh air to last you a lifetime on the Continent." Admittedly, Verso sort of misses all of that fresh air. He quirks an eyebrow, then, asking, "Should I turn around to preserve your modesty?"
That's like getting enough food to last you a lifetime in one meal, he thinks. Gustave is still struggling with the fact that he finds his home a little claustrophobia-inducing now. "Only if you're trying to hurt my feelings," he says as he starts to change, but he will nod to his bedroom door, silently asking Verso to nudge it a little further shut.
"I wouldn't dare offend," he says with a hand up, as if pledging. He uses his foot to gently shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he blatantly checks Gustave out while he changes. No amount of suicidality can keep his baseline level of horniness down.
Gustave rolls his eyes while he's buttoning up his shirt, if only because he's a lean — borderline scrawny — dude, and he's not sure he's ever been openly checked out like that; it makes more sense to assume Verso is just gently making fun of him.
"Did you want to head out right away?" He reminds himself to ask about how Monoco's doing on the walk to the gardens.
"Sure," he jokes, "if you're going to keep buttoning up like that."
The implication being, of course, that the only reason he'd want to stick around is if Gustave were going to take everything off again. Honestly, he's a little nervous about the prospect of Maelle being around here somewhere; going out is anxiety-provoking, but so is staying in when it means that she could show up any minute.
Once Gustave is fully dressed, he tips his head, complimentary. "You look nice." Especially now that his facial hair is growing back in.
It's grown back just enough to start getting really itchy, but there's no chance in hell he's going to give Verso the opportunity to suggest he has a baby face again, so he's just going to deal with it. "You do, too," Gustave says. He immediately buffers a second, trying to remember if he's already said that or just thought it, and then decides it doesn't matter: if he has, it bears repeating.
He gestures for Verso to follow him, heading to first let Emma know he's actually leaving the house this time before he pulls on his shoes. "So Monoco's moved in, has he?"
"He's the only thing my apprentices wanted to talk about, you know." Gustave chuckles quietly at the memory, and he drifts close to Verso as they walk. The handful of interruptions this time are politely waved off with a quiet 'Sorry, in a hurry.' "They're gentle boys. I caught them sparring with sticks after they listened to some of his stories."
Gustave is similarly relieved, though it feels like treachery to admit that to even himself. It's not guilt for him, exactly, though he'd be hard pressed to choose a word to describe it. He loved Lumière, and he still does, but there's no denying the anxiety its mere existence invokes.
The company helps. He laughs a little in surprise at the hand, but takes it with a genuine murmur of appreciation. No, he doesn't need it — but it's nice to have anyway. "Yes. The worst. Adrien actually stopped by this morning to ask if I knew where he was."
Verso lets the hand linger for about a second more than is proper before dropping it. "I'd offer to send him over to your workshop, but I'm not sure I want to be liable for what he'd do to it."
"I wouldn't dare steal your best friend from you." Gustave is— well, honestly, a little exasperated at himself by how sweet he finds that subtle hint of affection there. In response, he rests his hand briefly at the small of Verso's back while they walk, an idle and fond touch. "Though rebuilding it might be a good project for the boys."
no subject
"A week, and you're already sick of humans?" Same. "Give me three weeks, and we can go back for as long as you like."
Oh, merde. That first week 'didn't count'. If things with Maelle haven't changed by then, he really should return to the Continent. Remove one of the reasons she has to stay here — namely, the opportunity to pretend her brother isn't dead.
"—Four," he corrects. "I have some things to take care of here first."
no subject
"Well, alright, if you insist," he says, like he's heavily put upon, and then he will promptly spend the rest of the morning trying to convince Verso that they should get a dog. You know, just for the month that they're going to be there.
no subject
Also, he's wearing a hat. The roots are that bad.
Sometime in the evening, he makes his way to Gustave's home and knock-knock-knocks on the door.
no subject
The door to which is open this time, at least. There's a record playing in the corner, and he's leaning over his drafting table working on blueprints probably I don't know what I was trying to say either??? fully lost in his own little world.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Then, casually, like he doesn't remember Maelle saying that she and Gustave used to go there: "I was just thinking that it's been ages since I've visited the Hanging Gardens."
no subject
no subject
Not really, but he can't trap Gustave in the house every time he comes around. Besides, he made himself look nice specifically for the purpose of 'going out' with Gustave, although he'd never admit that he didn't wake up like this, hat and all.
"That is," he says wryly, canting a head toward the blueprints, "if your genius can wait."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Did you want to head out right away?" He reminds himself to ask about how Monoco's doing on the walk to the gardens.
no subject
The implication being, of course, that the only reason he'd want to stick around is if Gustave were going to take everything off again. Honestly, he's a little nervous about the prospect of Maelle being around here somewhere; going out is anxiety-provoking, but so is staying in when it means that she could show up any minute.
Once Gustave is fully dressed, he tips his head, complimentary. "You look nice." Especially now that his facial hair is growing back in.
no subject
He gestures for Verso to follow him, heading to first let Emma know he's actually leaving the house this time before he pulls on his shoes. "So Monoco's moved in, has he?"
no subject
The Hanging Gardens weren't quite as much his haunt as they seem to be Maelle and Gustave's, but Verso still remembers the way, even after all this time. 67 years, and Lumiére is still fresh in his memory. He does still keep to the side, prepared for Gustave to be stopped by an admirer or two, but he doesn't shrink away from the populace quite as much as he did the last time they walked the streets of Lumiére.
"For a little while." He casts a sidelong glance at Gustave. "I think human society is taking its toll on him."
no subject
no subject
Gustave doesn't need it, but Verso holds out a hand to help him up the stairs anyway. "So what I'm hearing is he's a bad influence."
no subject
The company helps. He laughs a little in surprise at the hand, but takes it with a genuine murmur of appreciation. No, he doesn't need it — but it's nice to have anyway. "Yes. The worst. Adrien actually stopped by this morning to ask if I knew where he was."
no subject
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
sideling
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
i saw that
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...