tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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[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."

[superniceone]

"It's just been one thing after another today, and I—" He'd said some pretty big words. "Forgive me?"

Gustave looks exhausted—more mentally than physically—and he'll move to step inside, apparently determined to get started in the kitchen as soon as possible even if he does linger enough to hear Verso's answer.

i saw that

[recreatable]

There's nothing to forgive, as far as he's concerned, but— "That all depends on how good dinner is." It's teasing, though, as is, "Tough day at the office?"

[superniceone]

"Emma wanted to get the members of thirty-three together. The original ones, I mean, all of us." Gustave is, apparently, someone who is completely devoted to both of his sisters. He pinches the bridge of his nose, then starts to unpack groceries onto the counter. "Sciel was able to slip out." He hadn't had a shot.

[recreatable]

'All of us' — Verso raises his eyebrows slightly, and he's relieved that Gustave is too busy unpacking groceries to see his face. The ones that Renoir slaughtered, the ones Verso didn't even try to save. Dwelling on that will tarnish what peace they've managed for themselves, however illusory, so he shakes his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts.

"And you were just too popular to leave," he ribs affectionately, leaning against the counter to watch Gustave unload his haul. "Couldn't disappoint your adoring fans." He had one adoring fan back here that he disappointed, but whatever. "I get it."

From the other room, an eavesdropping Monoco makes an unconvinced sound, having watched Verso lie pathetically on the couch waiting for Gustave to finally show up for the past several hours. Good friend that he is, he absolutely doesn't say this.

"Monoco was beside himself waiting, though."

[superniceone]

"I couldn't disappoint my sister," Gustave corrects, and there's a moment of hesitation as he folds up a bag. "And Lucien— he died because I froze. Saved my life and I just— you know?" He clears his throat, because now isn't the time to be somber or melancholy. "I really did try to leave early."

He does his best to shake it off. "And I'm very sad to hear I disappointed Monoco," he says. "I sent you a poem someone else painstakingly wrote, that didn't count for anything?"

[recreatable]

"You plagiarized, you mean," is another quip. It had counted for quite a bit, actually; the note is still in his back pocket.

Taking on a more serious expression, he leans in, hand brushing Gustave's arm. "It's okay. You had more important things to do." Verso can't very well get upset about the fact that Gustave has people in his life just because he doesn't, although it does seem a rather stark reminder of what a hollow facsimile of living he's actually doing right now.

"—I'm sure Monoco will find it in his heart to forgive you."

[superniceone]

"I had a brotherly obligation," Gustave insists, but he does seem mollified by the touch to his arm, and he starts slicing vegetables. "But I'm unavailable for the foreseeable future." For the next three and a half weeks is what he'd said, actually, which had baffled her.

He pauses, then glances at Verso, mock-serious. "I'm not dating Monoco, too, am I? If you two come as a package deal, fine, but some warning would have been nice." This is solely in reference to Monoco's make believe hurt feelings; he genuinely doesn't care about the third-wheeling.

[recreatable]

Gustave says dating so casually, and Verso feels a little twinge of anxiety as he thinks about what became of the last person he was in a relationship with. It's good that all of this has an expiration date. Once Maelle brings Julie back and she tells the world what Verso did to her, Gustave won't want anything to do with him anyway.

"You're free to ask him," Verso says, shrugging, "if you're interested."

Monoco, from the living room: "He should be so monumentally lucky."

[superniceone]

Gustave already feels guilty about how much anger he still holds for Verso's father, for Painted Renoir, a man erased from existence; it's likely the knowledge of the way he'd manipulated Verso back at the beginning of this all would only exacerbate those feelings.

But he remains oblivious for now, shrugging one shoulder. "He's only got eyes for you, it seems." Gustave considers something, then, and ducks his head to try to mask his own laugh. "I'm going to have to sleep on the couch tonight, aren't I." To his credit, he doesn't sound mad about it.

[recreatable]

The idea that Gustave is planning on staying over again is a new one to Verso, although he doesn't say so; if he points out his surprise, then Gustave might get self-conscious and decide not to. Instead, he responds as if it was the plan all along. "You're the one who said you didn't mind a chaperone," he points out. "But don't worry. I'm sure we can all three fit."

Joking, joking. If there's anyone who'd relegate himself to the couch here, it's Verso — although he secretly hopes he won't have to, given that drooling on Gustave's leg might have been the most restful sleep he's gotten in ages.

[superniceone]

It's late, and it's going to be much later by the time dinner finishes cooking and they've through actually eating. Gustave will admit only to himself that, yes, it had slipped his mind that Monoco was probably snoozing nightly in the single bedroom with Verso—which mostly means that he's probably going to have to hoof it home at some point tonight.

Oh, well. It's not like he needed to be worried about late night crime on the streets of a Lumière still celebrating its renewed life.

"You look nice, by the way," he says, turning back to the veg. "Or, uh— maybe I said that already? Or maybe I just thought it loudly and launched into apologizing for my tardiness instead."

[recreatable]

Verso laughs at the recollection of Gustave's instant apologetics, but he's clearly pleased by the compliment. He doesn't say so, though, instead saying, offhandedly, "I just threw this on."

Not like he stressed over what to wear for 30 minutes or anything.

"I should return the compliment." Both because it's polite, and because it's true. "No wonder they wouldn't let you go."

[superniceone]

"Oh, so you're into suits now?" Gustave asks, and he's glad he's looking at the cutting board so Verso can't fully see the way he cringes. Their relationship is already doomed; accidentally mirroring his conversation with his ex on the day of her Gommage isn't going to bring the mood up.

He clears his throat, moves on quickly. "I think I saw one of your neighbors peeking through their curtains when I got here. Don't imagine you've met any of them yet?" Yet, like it's just understood that one would know their neighbors personally.

[recreatable]

No, of course he hasn't met any of his neighbors yet. Verso is reluctant to even look at the Lumiérians most days, too much tied up emotionally in what his existence has done to them. They induce guilt, but worse still, they make him feel resentful. They're part of this, even in some small way, and therefore part of the reason Maelle is going to suffer.

He sidesteps the question entirely. "Well, they were probably just investigating the source of Monoco's stench."

[superniceone]

The sidestep is answer enough. Gustave hadn't expected him to throw a block party, but he wouldn't have been shocked to find out at least one neighbor had been nosy enough to try to find out who was living in this little home.

"I find it sort of fascinating that there seems to be a genetic component to the habit of bullying the people you love," he says instead. "I'm really not sure what Monoco gets out of your relationship."

[recreatable]

What Verso brings to his relationship is the same thing he brings to all of his long-term relationships: he looks and acts somewhat similar to somebody they loved. "I'm the only one who puts up with his nonsense." And that.

He should offer to help Gustave with the cooking, but instead he picks up a small bit of sliced vegetable and chews on it. Even with his depression appetite, he can only tolerate waiting so long before he gets hungry. "Should I be offended that you can't fathom what I contribute to a relationship?"

[superniceone]

Gustave snacks on a bite of sliced pepper, too—there'd been more drink than food at this evening's get-together—and he'd mostly abstained for his own sake. The intention had been to take his time cooking tonight, a gesture of affection as much as it would be a distraction for himself, but showing up after dark meant he'd scrapped that plan in favor of throwing together a quick piperade instead.

He sets a pan to heat and hums at Verso's question. "I assumed Monoco had more depth than I do. My interest is entirely superficial, after all."

[recreatable]

The quip would be more offensive if Verso weren't skeptical that Gustave is even capable of keeping it superficial. One semi-drunk handjob, and he'd tried to cuddle. Verso has little to offer beyond the superficial, but he's relatively confident that Gustave has at least deluded himself otherwise.

"Oh, I see," is amused. "That's all I am to you. A handsome face and great hair."

[superniceone]

It's true: he's just one of those people wired in a way that makes separating love and sex impossible. He'd just never had the opportunity to realize that before.

"Handsome other things, too," Gustave says, tipping garlic and onion into the pan to saute. He laughs, then adds a little more earnestly: "I meant what I said before. About not realizing I could be this attracted to another man." Sure, he'd found plenty of them attractive, but it was different. Maybe the surviving death together thing made someone hotter.

[recreatable]

"Flatterer," Verso snarks, although he's pleased by the sentiment. He might offer something similar in return—albeit impossibly more cheesy—and say that Gustave sparks feelings he'd thought long dead, but he's very aware of the fact that Monoco can hear him. He doesn't need more ammo to bully Verso with.

Instead, he says, teasing, "But feel free to keep going." He doesn't mind if Monoco has ammo to bully Gustave with.

[superniceone]

God, this would be a really nice evening if the anxious thoughts would stop. He wonders how many more nights like these they'll get, wonders if they're making an unfixable mistake by playing house instead of approaching Maelle more consistently, more firmly.

"I wouldn't want to embarrass you," Gustave says instead, and tries not to let it be obvious that he's knocked the wind out of his own sails for a moment. "Hand me those eggs?"

[recreatable]

The mood dips almost imperceptibly, but Verso is an expert at attuning himself to others' unhappiness. It's unclear what out of Verso's flippant response, if anything, was the culprit, but it doesn't matter; it's still Verso's responsibility to fix it. Eggs in hand, he approaches, leaning in with a tongue-in-cheek, "You know, chefs are really sexy."

[superniceone]

Damn, Verso, the vanity. Can't a guy suffer some minor existential dread of his own making? The remark makes Gustave snort, though, and he cracks two eggs over the onion and pepper before sliding the pan into the oven. "It's almost done, settle down."

He mostly just assumes Verso is hungry.