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[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[recreatable]

Monoco is the singular being in the entire world that likes Verso more than Gustave now that Verso's family is all gone, but that would be a depressing argument to get into, and the mood is still light enough that he doesn't want to ruin it. Besides, there's more important matters:

"For someone so brilliant, you do struggle to pick up on hints." It doesn't bode well for their relationship, given that Verso has never straightforwardly said something in his life. Far less smooth now that he just has to say it, he fumbles, "I'm— asking. If you wanted... privacy, when you come over."

Is it uncouth to ask if it's going to be the sort of visit where they make out? That feels uncouth.

[superniceone]

Gustave is a little surprised to hear it asked so straightforwardly as well, but he seems more confused by it than anything. "Mon beau. I assumed it we wanted privacy, we'd close your bedroom door." He doesn't really feel like Monoco is the type to stick his ear up against the door to eavesdrop.

[recreatable]

"And leave Monoco unsupervised in the house?" Kidding. Kind of. It's also sort of Monoco's bedroom, too, given the limited space in there, but— he won't mind, maybe. "Never mind. I'm sure it'll be... fine."

[superniceone]

Verso being 'pretty sure' that it'll be 'fine' doesn't do much to inspire confidence in Gustave. He'll pause, pulling Verso slightly off the path near a building showing no signs of life inside.

"Hey, just to be— clear. I'll never be unhappy to spend... private time, with you." He just really doesn't want to be overheard by a stranger because this is embarrassing!! "But I'm not going to be disappointed if we end up with a chaperone sometimes, be it gestral or otherwise."

[recreatable]

He's maybe in his head a little about all of this, because it's been seven decades since he's been with anyone in any way that goes beyond a wilderness quickie. It all doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, because he's going to let Gustave down eventually, but Verso finds himself somehow reluctant to let him down now.

"I just..." Want Gustave to have a good time. A perfect time, even. He finishes, offhandedly, "...know how you feel about gestrals." He pokes Gustave in the ribs, lighthearted.

[superniceone]

"Hey, he's a valued member of the Expedition before he's a gestral." Gustave pauses, then visibly waffles, even as he grabs the offending hand. He's ticklish 😤!! "Unless that's an offensive thing to say about a gestral?"

He's distracted himself here for a moment, but then he shakes it off. "I'll come make actual dinner." Because haha he's still avoiding Maelle too.

[recreatable]

They can't both avoid Maelle forever, but— "Oh, actual dinner. Sounds fancy." Especially considering that he's been subsisting on whatever takes the least amount of kitchen work, considering how minimal his experience in the kitchen has been these last few decades. Maelle would lose her mind if he accidentally started a kitchen fire. "No crepes?"

[superniceone]

"They were technically galettes," Gustave says, rolling his eyes as he resumes his little escort mission here. "But I can always pick something up from a cafe on the way if you don't trust me."

It was sort of unsettling, actually, how quickly Lumière had begun to settle back into business as usual.

[recreatable]

"I wouldn't dream of it," he quips back, partially because he really shouldn't be making Gustave come over and do things for him at all. A poem does not feel like adequate repayment for what is now going to be two dinners and a breakfast. Teasing: "Your crepes are so adequate."

A pause, and then he adds, more sincere, "I appreciated it." The so-called galettes, he means. "Thanks."

[superniceone]

Gustave would be faintly horrified to realize that Verso was treating this like a transactional relationship instead of the much healthier way that Gustave was treating it: as intentional escapism, playacting at domesticity even with the sword of Damocles hanging precariously over the existence of all life in Lumière.

"I like cooking," he says simply. It had been one of the chores he'd assumed primary when he and Emma had been left alone, even though she'd always been much better at it.

Gustave makes smalltalk for the rest of the walk, mostly doing his best to grill Verso on any food preferences, and he seems almost disappointed when they arrive at his door. "A pleasure as always, monsieur." Playacting, still. It feels so silly, but he'd crumble without the respite.

[recreatable]

"Oh, no. The pleasure's all mine."

He lingers for a moment, fingers brushing the his doorknob but not yet opening it, reluctant to leave the escapist reality they've carved out and reenter the nightmare reality they actually live in. Even he knows that it's not healthy to have a relationship based solely in shared delusion, but it's difficult to stop now that it's begun. The Dessendres all enjoy living in fantasy, one way or another.

"It's been a while, but to my recollection, there's traditionally a kiss at this part of the evening."

[superniceone]

"You're not afraid of scandalizing the neighbors?" Gustave asks, and maintains the facade of concern even as he moves to reel Verso in. Even Gustave knows this is going to come crashing down around them probably sooner rather than later — so if they've got the chance to have a moment of peace, of comfort, there's no reason to deny themselves, right?

Another delusional thought to add to the pile, maybe.

[recreatable]

The kiss is gentle and unrushed, the sort of thing people who don't have all their hook-ups in the Nevron-infested wilderness do, and there's a bittersweet tinge in his chest at the thought that he really does like this. Easy affection, plans for Gustave to come over and engage in boring domesticity. Verso is struck simultaneously with the idea that he wants this to be his life, actually, and the thought that it can't ever really be. Even this pretend contentment is on a time limit. Even if they stick their heads in the sand, Maelle will start showing unmistakable signs of degradation eventually.

So he's a little sad when he pulls away, although he tries his best not to show it. "What scandal," he teases. "À bientôt."

The door swings open, and Monoco peeks his head out. "There you are. Were you hiding the knives from me?"

"Yes," Verso says, "because I thought you'd throw them."

"I did throw them," Monoco says sagely. "They're stuck in the ceiling now."

[superniceone]

Gustave makes a mental note to bring his own knives the next day, just in case there's any trouble retrieving Verso's from their new home in the plaster of the ceiling. He exchanges pleasantries with Monoco, asks how he's been — and Monoco, whilst blunt as ever, is still very good at keeping Verso's secrets. He manages to complain about Lumière without making it seem like he's actively planning to return to the Continent with Verso in tow.

And the next morning, when he wakes, he's immediately dragged into People Management by Emma. It's exhausting, and he's still slightly alarmed that he's got any authority to speak of, but there's no going back now.

Mostly it means the voice that accompanies the knock on Verso's door late that afternoon belongs to Sciel, not Gustave. "Hello," she calls cheerfully, "courier here with a letter for you."

[recreatable]

Verso spends longer than he'd like to admit readying himself for Gustave's arrival. The retrieval of the knives is a laborious task that involves sitting on Monoco's shoulders so that he can reach the handles. Following their removal, he can't help but cringe as he notices that the ceiling has little blade indentations in it. Afterward, he takes his time arranging his hair just so, and artfully rumpling and re-rumpling his collar until it has the perfect I just threw this on level of attractive dishevelment.

Sciel's arrival isn't a disappointment, exactly, but he does stop handsomely leaning against the doorframe when he sees that it's her.

All the same, he's happy to see her. She's glowing, really, the happiness of a woman reunited with her most beloved person practically bursting out of her. "I thought you'd be too busy being a blushing bride to deliver letters," he says, and what he means is that he's surprised she took time away from Pierre to visit him at all. "New career?"

[superniceone]

"We're not together every waking moment of every day." Just, well, most of them. Sciel had hardly even let him bathe alone for the first three or four days after his return. She continues after a moment: "He's catching up with his brother." And they do deserve a few hours of privacy, at least.

She passes him a tightly neatly folded piece of paper, uncertain of the contents. (It is both stanzas of James Thomson's "The Wine of Love" in Gustave's tidy handwriting, followed by a brief apology for having to borrow someone else's words.) "And Gustave asked me to let you know he'll be a few hours late."

Sciel tilts her head slightly, openly considering Verso. He looks— well. Better than she'd privately anticipated, and she's relieved for that.

[recreatable]

Verso opens the note upon receiving it, quickly skimming it and then reading it again, and then again.

"—Hm?" he says after a moment, glancing up with a blank expression that betrays the fact that he didn't hear a fucking word she said.

[superniceone]

"Gustave is going to be late for dinner," Sciel repeats, and she's amused now. She'd been — well, a little shocked when she'd found out that Gustave had spent relatively little time with Sophie, had been worried about him, but Verso's reaction has her curious. She leans in to try to snatch the note from him.

[recreatable]

Luckily, Verso has two sisters, so he's adept at snatching things away from prying girls. It's a good thing, too, because he'd rather ball this note up and swallow it than let Sciel read it in front of him. He quickly holds the note out of reach, mouth upturned despite himself as he says, "Strangely nosy for a courier."

[superniceone]

"You can't blame me for being curious. If it were from anyone but Gustave, I'd assume it was just something naughty." Sciel tsks softly under her breath, and then softens into something just a little more serious. "I need to get back, but it was good to see you. Let's all get together soon, yeah?"

[recreatable]

"Maybe it is naughty. I've been known to be a bad influence."

He doesn't want to admit the truth of it to Sciel, who'd so confidently said that Gustave would forget about him upon seeing Sophie again. Doesn't want to see the surprise on her face. Although Sciel would never be so cruel, he lets himself imagine her disapproval just to hurt his own feelings, frowning as she thinks just how little Verso deserves this.

Projecting, obviously. Sciel isn't like that, as evidenced by the invitation. Part of him wants to ask after everything, you still want to see me?, but the question sounds pathetic even just in his mind. Instead, he says, "Sure." Another thing he doesn't deserve but is going to take advantage of anyway; this is becoming a pattern. He adds, "...I'm happy for you."

[superniceone]

"I'm happy for me, too," Sciel answers, and she really does look radiantly happy. She'd spent so many nights dreaming of Pierre within arm's length, smiling at her, talking to her — and waking up with her bed cold and her heart heavy every time. Every morning still feels like a miracle.

She smiles at him, holding out her hand, a silent ask for his, for the brief connection of touch. "You look really good." She's been worried, and is also fully unaware that she's just caught him on one of his better days. "I'll make some plans."

[recreatable]

"I always look really good," he volleys back, wry. "That's why I get so many dirty notes."

But Verso does appreciate the concern, even if he's not sure he's in a place to entertain a whole get-together of people. (He doesn't have to entertain them, they'd probably argue, but obviously he does.) For a moment, he wonders if he should mention that he and Maelle aren't exactly on good terms, but Sciel looks so happy that he can't imagine telling her anything unpleasant.

He reaches out to squeeze her hand briefly before dropping it, reassurance that he actually is doing great, and that she definitely doesn't need to be worried about him trying to end the entire world again.

"I've got to go break the news to Monoco that our guest will be late." More Verso's guest than Monoco's, but— he probably is looking forward to the opportunity to bully Gustave a little. "You know how he is. There'll be tears everywhere."

[superniceone]

Sciel leans into the threshold of the doorway to call a greeting to Monoco and a promise to come visit very soon, before she's back on her way to the happiness of a life returned to her.

The next knock at the door is actually Gustave, and he's got a bag of groceries in hand despite the fact that it's almost a comically late hour to start cooking. "Hey," he says with a grimace when the door opens, "is there even the slightest chance you're still hungry?"

[recreatable]

Well, he doesn't look quite as artfully rumpled when Gustave actually shows up, more actually rumpled from lying around on the divan waiting for Gustave to show up, and then giving up on him ever showing up and having Monoco aggressively wrestle him in an attempt to cheer him up after being stood up. He doesn't lean handsomely in the doorway this time, instead running a hand over his hair in an attempt to bring it back to the glory of several hours ago.

"Hey," he says, "you came." He hadn't thought Gustave would stand him up on purpose, but he had thought Gustave's idea of putting everyone else on the backburner for the sake of playing pretend with Verso had probably been a bit unrealistic, considering that Gustave isn't the type to say 'no' easily. "Monoco was starting to look like a giant chicken leg."