tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

Verso's smile is small, but he's obviously pleased that Gustave likes it. Of course, he'd done everything in his power to make sure that happened — hours making revisions, an atmospheric setting, covering up his horrible hair. Gustave's approval wasn't really left up to chance.

All the same, it's a relief. It's easier to write down feelings through poem or song than it is to express them verbally, but it's still just as intimidating to have someone actually see them. Baring his soul, like he'd said.

"It would be a poor gift if you couldn't." Canting his head, he adds, "It's yours."

[superniceone]

Gustave has emotional whiplash and it's his own fault. He shouldn't have let this start until things were fixed. He's worried about the end of their world as they know it; he's worried about Maelle poisoning herself by running away to Lumière, a place that is somehow less real than her own world. And now he's sitting in the shade of the Hanging Gardens, surrounded on all sides by carefully cultivated flowers, receiving a love poem. Written just for him, in fact.

He's tried not to make any assumptions about how Verso feels about evidence of their relationship outside of private walls, but he's going to reach forward now for his hand, squeezing it tightly in his own.

"I thought you were leaving early," he confesses, sheepish now that he understands Verso's angle. "It was— uncharitable to assume. Sorry. This is— lovely."

[recreatable]

"Oh," he says, and now it's his turn to feel sheepish. Worse than sheepish. His conversation with Monoco about leaving as soon as his month here is up runs through his head, and he feels a pang of guilt. Stumbling over his words: "No, not... early."

But still leaving. The elation he'd felt sinks a little; it's challenging to stay upbeat when constantly torn between making Gustave happy and making it easier for him when Verso inevitably goes. Part of him does want to stay, but he knows better than to trust his own selfish desires. He shouldn't even be lingering here this long in the first place, trying to make Gustave like him when the only person that benefits is himself.

Quickly changing the subject, he says, "Now that I've been your muse, I expect to have a combustion engine named after me."

[superniceone]

Not early, Verso says, and Gustave smiles a little wistfully, pulling his hand to his mouth to softly kiss the back of his fingers before he lets him go. Despite everything, he can't beat his own stupid idealism: maybe, if he can convince Maelle to go, he can convince Verso to stay.

"You might have to wait a bit. Lune actually has me looking into synthesizing Nevron abilities the way Monoco does," Gustave says, sounding a little good-naturedly beleaguered. "It's not going to get anywhere, but I promised her I'd have a think." And there's no point, either, other than doing it just because they can. It's not like they have a larger world to defend themselves against.

[recreatable]

Damn. He can't even get a combustion engine in return for his poem.

"Is that what you were working on?" Before Verso so rudely interrupted him and took him away from his math, that is. "I hate to say it, but I'm not sure even Monoco knows how he does it."

[superniceone]

"Hypotheticals of hypotheticals, but yeah." Gustave leans back on the bench, smiling politely at a couple strolling by near them. "I'd need— so many more samples than what I actually brought back to make any progress. But it's something to keep me busy."

[recreatable]

"—You brought dismembered Nevron legs back?" Ew???

[superniceone]

"No? I collected a few small tissue samples. Thought it might come in useful for research after we harvested that Bourgeon skin." He gives him a look. "What?"

[recreatable]

That's gross. No less gross than whatever diseases Gustave probably got from having wilderness sex, but still pretty gross!!! Verso has to laugh.

"I just didn't know you were such a mad scientist, that's all." He can imagine Gustave looking at Nevron tissue under a microscope, and it's unfortunately endearing. "Should I be worried that you're going to lop off my finger to study regeneration?"

[superniceone]

"I'm not!" Gustave says a little defensively, but he's laughing. "I don't usually handle the— organic side of things. There was a lot of luck involved with the Lumina converter, too. Some ideas just take off." He pauses for a moment, then adds a little more seriously: "But, uh, I'd be careful around Lune the next time she's looking for a new project." She would lop a few fingers off and not think twice.

[recreatable]

"I'm sure it wasn't that lucky," he says, pinky finger brushing against Gustave's in a very scandalous way!! "You don't give yourself enough credit." For, like, anything. Gustave still doesn't know how hot he is, which is insane.

[superniceone]

Can't believe Verso has fallen to societal pressure enough to find mediocre white men hot now but okay. "I didn't say it was all luck," he concedes, and then glances at the folded paper in his hand a little, smiling again. Teasingly: "Can't believe you admitted in writing that you like me. How embarrassing for you."

If they're going to pretend everything isn't going to hell around them for a few hours, he's going to go all in, fuck it.

[recreatable]

Newsflash, asshole, I've liked you the whole fucking time!!! Verso politely doesn't say. What part of Verso dumping him multiple times isn't clicking??

"I don't recall seeing a name," he teases back, although his head is slightly ducked, and he's, yes, embarrassed. Liking Gustave isn't the embarrassing part, but writing his feelings out so plainly is. "That could be about anyone whose 'handsomeness is beyond compare'."

Don't make fun. It rhymes with Lumière.

[superniceone]

Gustave isn't like Maelle — he'd never razz Verso for his actual poetry. But teasing him like he's a schoolboy with a crush feels like fair game. Safer, at least.

"Not letting you take a word of it back. I am fairly certain I'm the only one in the city with an arm made of metal," he says with a little grin, nudging Verso's leg with his own. "It does make me fairly incomparable."

[recreatable]

"It does," he agrees, softly. Admittedly, there's very few people for Verso to actually compare him to; he's not been a social butterfly in a long time, and definitely not since returning to Lumière. All the same, he feels confident that Gustave is incomparable in nearly every way that matters. Intelligent, dedicated, unapologetically himself.

"I meant it," he ventures after a moment. "I do like you." It sounds juvenile to hear himself say it, but it also feels like a juvenile feeling to begin with.

"I'm sorry that I'm not better at—" Showing it, he plans to say, but that's really just the tip of the iceberg. Truthfully, he should just be sorry in general. "All of this."

[superniceone]

"Don't do that. Apologize, I mean," Gustave says, and his voice is gentle, not reprimanding. "I don't need— I hope you know I still like you just as much when you're not performing for me. Sitting by you, watching you concentrate on what you were writing— it felt like you forgot I was there."

He pauses, then backpedals. "Which is a good thing. I don't think you let you relax around people enough to forget about them very often. It was nice."

And he'd read way less than he'd pretended to. Verso was very cute while he was scribbling away!!

[recreatable]

The sentiment is a little weird and very sweet; Verso feels a bittersweet squeeze in his chest that he does his best to ignore, instead knocking their knees together briefly. "If I'd known your ideal date was being forgotten, I would have tried way less hard this time around."

[superniceone]

He'd been similarly fond when Verso had fallen asleep with his head on Gustave's leg. It had felt sort of like winning the trust of a feral kitten. He won't say that part out loud.

"Good to have variety," he says, a little distracted, because the next thing out of his mouth is— "Emma asked if you were my boyfriend. That's— it feels like such a childish word. I'm in my thirties."

[recreatable]

If this is Gustave's way of broaching the 'what are we' conversation, he's chosen the worst way to do it by already dismissing one of the options out of hand. Verso averts his eyes, instantly agreeing, "Yeah. So childish."

[superniceone]

Fortunately or unfortunately, Gustave hasn't dismissed anything. He freezes for a split second, floundering, before he follows it with: "I told her yes?" He straightens up again, dragging his fingers through his hair nervously, and then rolling his eyes at the fact that he's got the mental space to even worry about shit this silly right now. "So— uh. If that's an issue, I can... correct the record."

[recreatable]

If he had any sense at all, this is where he would pump the brakes. He could very gently tell Gustave that just because Verso has feelings for him doesn't mean that this can actually be anything long-term, and that it's for Gustave's own good, because Verso's been poison to everyone who's ever cared about him. It would be the right thing to do, the thing he's been promising himself that he's going to do this entire time.

"It would just be confusing if you tried to correct it now," he blurts out, words bypassing his brain entirely. "I guess you're stuck with it."

[superniceone]

Realistically, rationally, Gustave knows. He's aware that Verso can promise him very little (at least, with the actual intention to deliver on said promise.) He knows that this is just a diversion for them both, really. He also knows it's too late for him, anyway; pumping the brakes isn't now isn't going to help it ache any less when Verso does finally manage to disappear the way he's been trying to do as long as Gustave has known him.

He laughs again, hanging his head briefly in relief. "I'll probably manage," he says, reaching to briefly squeeze Verso's knee. "Come on, there are so many more flowers I need you to tell me the meaning of."

[recreatable]

Despite everything, an insuppressible smile tugs at the corner of Verso's mouth at that gentle squeeze of his knee, and he stands to point at another blossom— "This one definitely symbolizes love. Or betrayal. Or perhaps indigestion."

[superniceone]

Gustave snorts a laugh, shaking his head. He really likes this fucking idiot. "Sure," he says, and he'll lead Verso around at an ambling pace for a while; the time outside, in familiar gardens, does seem to do a lot to help him relax.

It'll be sometime later, when they're preparing to leave, that he'll clear his throat thoughtfully. "Hey. I saw Sciel yesterday— she was hoping to see you, soon, too. I didn't make any promises."

[recreatable]

Verso does miss Sciel. He thinks about her assertion that she'd sacrifice him for her husband in an instant; it should have rankled, but it had actually felt good to be on the other side of that equation for once. It had felt like she understood.

In lieu of a proper response, he asks, "How's Pierre?"