"Not quite the word I was thinking of," he quips, cheeks dimpling despite his best judgment. Cute is the word he's thinking of!!! Why does Gustave have to be so cute. :( Can't a guy just be doomed in peace?
"I am, in fact, excruciatingly aware of your proximity." A terminal one-upper. He nudges Gustave with a knee. "At all times."
"Is that why you're lounging attractively against the desk this time, or is that just incidental?" On a whim, Gustave reaches for Verso's hand to pull it to his mouth. He presses a lingering kiss to the back of his fingers before releasing him, drifting over to the window. "Monoco really has made himself at home, huh." He's pleased about it; it's good that Verso has companionship.
It's incidental lounging!! This is just how he lounges.
"They say home is where the throwing knives are, I think."
But he'd been finding ways to entertain himself before that, too. Honestly, Verso expects that he might have been lonely in Lumière. Out on the Continent, he's just another person; here, he's a novelty. Besides, it's normal to feel homesick, even if your home is a rundown train station filled with Grandis.
"But he's eager to go back to the Continent." The only reason he hasn't already is probably because he's hesitant to leave Verso behind; he feels a pang of guilt at that. Even without trying, Verso manages to make everyone who cares about him unhappy. "Things... make more sense out there."
"Sure," Gustave says, and he bites his tongue, figures acknowledging the fact that Verso is definitely talking about himself will just end up hurting both of their feelings. He thinks again about telling him to go back, that he'll handle Maelle, but he doesn't know if he can. Isn't sure if Verso just disappearing would make things easier or harder with her — it wasn't like it made much of a difference with Aline.
"How did you pass the time? When you weren't... babysitting wayward Expeditioners." He sits on the edge of the bed just for lack of other seating, glancing briefly at the unopened paint supplies. It didn't seem like creative endeavors brought him much joy.
"Babysitting," he echoes, amused. (And a little guilty; not all of it was 'babysitting'. There'd been a time when he'd worked against the Expeditions. When he'd thought this was all worth it to live.) "If babysitting involves trying to keep them from getting eaten by giant monsters, sure."
It's not that different, he supposes. Expeditioners aren't so different from toddlers that are determined to kill themselves.
As for the question, he shrugs. "I lived in the mountains with Monoco for a while. Fought Nevrons to pass the time." There wasn't much else to do out there. "Participated in a few Gestral competitions." Another shrug— "Tried to teach Esquie to play chess, but his hands are too big for the pieces."
"That's disappointing," Gustave says, a little amused as he admits: "I feel like I might actually finally win a game of chess against Esquie." So much of the game is just predicting what the other player is going to do, and Gustave is an extremely smart man who fails horribly in that regard.
He looks thoughtful, finally taking off his shoes like it's a declaration that he's going to stay a while longer. "But the gestrals—" Is there a delicate way to ask this? He's not sure. "They've, ah— always been this way?" Gustave is a full-ass hater and privately wonders if they get dumber every time they resurrect, but he's just gonna imply that instead of saying it outright.
Gustave stares at him, both incredulous and extremely stubborn — and also, maybe leaning into it a little, hoping to make Verso laugh. "Completely fucking unhinged?" Monoco threw a knife at Verso's face less than ten minutes ago.
"Hey," Verso says in mock-warning. "They're not..." 'Not unhinged'. He can't say that without sounding a bit unhinged himself. "...Well, not completely unhinged. Most of them, anyway."
Maybe he's just spent far too much time in their presence, but he's fond of them. They're his little guys! "They're more simple than humans. Easier to please."
"Hey, I wasn't trying to say humans are better. How many Expeditions were wiped out by eating the wrong thing?" It's tragic too, sure, but he feels like it makes his point.
Gustave thinks about the way Verso had asked so softly, so earnestly how to make him happy, and he thinks his ribs could break for the ache there. "Anyway. I'm an extremely easy man to please. Sounds like you just have a type."
"Easy to please?" is delivered with a skeptical raise of his brow. Out of everything he likes about Gustave, being easy to please isn't one of those things. It feels as if Verso has just made one misstep after the other with him—
—which is perhaps evidence of being easy to please after all, considering Gustave is somehow still here.
Still, he holds out his thumb and forefinger, nearly touching. "I hate to break it to you, but you're a bit more complex than a gestral."
They've both made massive missteps. It's the end of the world around them, and almost no one else knows; it'd be more shocking if they'd handled things more competently.
Which means Gustave is mock affronted by the assessment. "I stained my coat with grass and was still upset and jealous when you called things off. That's not the way a complicated man would have reacted."
Verso laughs, although he feels a bit embarrassed at the memory of 'calling things off'. It had been stupid and clumsy, but he'd thought he was doing the right thing. Maybe it was the right thing, and he should have stuck to his guns. Wasn't he planning on dumping Gustave again (for either the third or fourth time, depending on if you count the week of ghosting)? How quickly his principles crumple because of some scrawny asshole.
He's into scrawny assholes, unfortunately, or at least this scrawny asshole. Lounging attractively against the desk, he shoots Gustave a megawatt smile. "Maybe I'm just that good."
Gustave is happy to indulge Verso in— well, basically anything, because he's fully bought in to the Dessendre propaganda, at least as far as it concerns the two younger children of the family. It's still not enough to stop the dry look, because he's certain they're both fully aware at this point that neither of them really had any idea what they were doing. The closest thing to actual 'romance' was a blowjob in a ramshackle hut, or maybe a clumsy handjob whilst they were both crammed into a divan.
Not that it was bad by any stretch, but the playful smugness felt like an invite to tease. "You're definitely better than any other man I've been with," he says seriously. "Top of the list for sure."
Ouch!!! Don't tell him where he ranks among all genders — his ego is too fragile. Verso raises an eyebrow, although he's still smiling. "Next you're going to tell me I 'have a good personality'." The worst thing you can say to a person, honestly.
"Am I supposed to have a problem with your personality, Verso?" He's genuinely confused by this one, scanning him in curiosity, before he pulls his tie loose. Verso's version of dressing up for the day seemed a lot more appealing to him than what he'd been forced into.
Yes, he probably should have a problem with Verso's personality, but that's not what he was getting at!!
"It's, uh, what you say when someone only has a good— you know what, never mind." He cannot possibly awkwardly explain all of his pithy quips to Gustave. Cringing a little: "It's not as irreverent if I have to explain it."
"Right," he says, and maybe he should!! But Verso didn't let him die for some reason in this timeline, so maybe Gustave just has some kind of weird metaphysical gratitude thing going on, who knows. "Feels like a really bad way to insult someone as infuriatingly attractive as you, but sure."
"It was a joke," he says, stopping short of saying 'OBVIOUSLY the punchline is how handsome I am'. "I've heard some people tell them in the pursuit of making people they like laugh. Debatable results so far, though."
Come on, man. He turned on the 'PLEASE CLAP' sign.
"Besides, we both know you're here for entirely superficial reasons."
"Hey, I got the joke," Gustave says, playfully defensive as he thumbs through the book just to give himself something to do with his hands. "I just thought you liked when I told you how handsome you are." It still feels strange, somehow, flirting with Verso — he's a little incredulous, still, that Verso would want to hear compliments from someone like him, but he feels that similar urge to try to cheer him up.
"Oh, I do," is shameless. "But I'm not that easy. Unlike you"—apparently, since Gustave wants to argue that he's the simplest man in the world—"I really am more complex than a gestral."
Brag.
"It's all about reading between the lines," he explains, wry like reading between the lines isn't actually a necessary skill for interacting with him. "For example, one usually lounges attractively for this long because they're hoping you'll touch them instead of fondling your book."
Look. Gustave is not the only one here screaming notice me. The least he could do is let their knees accidentally brush.
Gustave exhales a startled sort of laugh at that, putting the book next to him on the bed and standing up. "I asked if this was meaningful lounging or not," he says. "I am learning." But he doesn't want to be a creep and just assume Verso is open to advances every time he lounges!! He seems like a guy who enjoys a good lounge!
He catches Verso by the waist, trying to draw him over. "Besides— I'm trying to be polite while your roommate is home."
Verso would have been content with the brush of a pinky finger, which is hardly impolite; he laughs in response, winding his arm around Gustave's (snatched???) waist and tugging him closer in turn. Again, a serial one-upper. "Fair. Monoco might throw a knife at you to protect my honor."
His nonexistent honor.
"But," he continues, "you should know that I shrivel up like a raisin without attention."
It's not as if Gustave minds it. The weariness in his bones is still there, and— okay, well, part of him is very much afraid that Verso is just going to shatter into a thousand little jagged bits if too much pressure is applied to him at any given moment, but the arm around his waist feels secure. Solid. So Gustave allows himself to lean heavily into Verso for just a few seconds, briefly leeching comfort from the nearness of another body.
"Mm. I'll schedule it into my diary. Compliments at ten am, fawning at noon. Coy looks around dinner, maybe?"
He laughs again, rolling his eyes a little. Gustave is too easy! He can't help but remember, though, Gustave's uncertainty, the way he'd wondered if they shouldn't be doing something more productive with their time. Verso's not quite sure what there is for him to do anymore besides vanish, but Gustave—
"You know," he says, tone casual that Gustave doesn't take it the wrong way. "If you do have more productive things you need to be doing with your time..."
A gentle squeeze, and then he releases Gustave from his grip. "I promise not to fling myself onto the bed crying."
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"I am, in fact, excruciatingly aware of your proximity." A terminal one-upper. He nudges Gustave with a knee. "At all times."
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"They say home is where the throwing knives are, I think."
But he'd been finding ways to entertain himself before that, too. Honestly, Verso expects that he might have been lonely in Lumière. Out on the Continent, he's just another person; here, he's a novelty. Besides, it's normal to feel homesick, even if your home is a rundown train station filled with Grandis.
"But he's eager to go back to the Continent." The only reason he hasn't already is probably because he's hesitant to leave Verso behind; he feels a pang of guilt at that. Even without trying, Verso manages to make everyone who cares about him unhappy. "Things... make more sense out there."
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"How did you pass the time? When you weren't... babysitting wayward Expeditioners." He sits on the edge of the bed just for lack of other seating, glancing briefly at the unopened paint supplies. It didn't seem like creative endeavors brought him much joy.
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It's not that different, he supposes. Expeditioners aren't so different from toddlers that are determined to kill themselves.
As for the question, he shrugs. "I lived in the mountains with Monoco for a while. Fought Nevrons to pass the time." There wasn't much else to do out there. "Participated in a few Gestral competitions." Another shrug— "Tried to teach Esquie to play chess, but his hands are too big for the pieces."
So, not a lot.
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He looks thoughtful, finally taking off his shoes like it's a declaration that he's going to stay a while longer. "But the gestrals—" Is there a delicate way to ask this? He's not sure. "They've, ah— always been this way?" Gustave is a full-ass hater and privately wonders if they get dumber every time they resurrect, but he's just gonna imply that instead of saying it outright.
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"Hey," Verso says in mock-warning. "They're not..." 'Not unhinged'. He can't say that without sounding a bit unhinged himself. "...Well, not completely unhinged. Most of them, anyway."
Maybe he's just spent far too much time in their presence, but he's fond of them. They're his little guys! "They're more simple than humans. Easier to please."
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Gustave thinks about the way Verso had asked so softly, so earnestly how to make him happy, and he thinks his ribs could break for the ache there. "Anyway. I'm an extremely easy man to please. Sounds like you just have a type."
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—which is perhaps evidence of being easy to please after all, considering Gustave is somehow still here.
Still, he holds out his thumb and forefinger, nearly touching. "I hate to break it to you, but you're a bit more complex than a gestral."
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Which means Gustave is mock affronted by the assessment. "I stained my coat with grass and was still upset and jealous when you called things off. That's not the way a complicated man would have reacted."
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He's into scrawny assholes, unfortunately, or at least this scrawny asshole. Lounging attractively against the desk, he shoots Gustave a megawatt smile. "Maybe I'm just that good."
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Not that it was bad by any stretch, but the playful smugness felt like an invite to tease. "You're definitely better than any other man I've been with," he says seriously. "Top of the list for sure."
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"It's, uh, what you say when someone only has a good— you know what, never mind." He cannot possibly awkwardly explain all of his pithy quips to Gustave. Cringing a little: "It's not as irreverent if I have to explain it."
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Come on, man. He turned on the 'PLEASE CLAP' sign.
"Besides, we both know you're here for entirely superficial reasons."
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Brag.
"It's all about reading between the lines," he explains, wry like reading between the lines isn't actually a necessary skill for interacting with him. "For example, one usually lounges attractively for this long because they're hoping you'll touch them instead of fondling your book."
Look. Gustave is not the only one here screaming notice me. The least he could do is let their knees accidentally brush.
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He catches Verso by the waist, trying to draw him over. "Besides— I'm trying to be polite while your roommate is home."
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His nonexistent honor.
"But," he continues, "you should know that I shrivel up like a raisin without attention."
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"Mm. I'll schedule it into my diary. Compliments at ten am, fawning at noon. Coy looks around dinner, maybe?"
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"You know," he says, tone casual that Gustave doesn't take it the wrong way. "If you do have more productive things you need to be doing with your time..."
A gentle squeeze, and then he releases Gustave from his grip. "I promise not to fling myself onto the bed crying."
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soz.. always boomeranging....
illegal
goes to jail ig...
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these characters have the unsexiest names it could only be worse if one of them was cletus
aw cletus & jed touchin dicks
exp33 but it's set in fantasy kentucky
🤢
cletus-gusgus: for those who are fixin' to come after
set in paris, ky.....
LAUGHS... my next au
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wtf i wrote "an disapproving" please freeze the thread i'm so ashamed
no singing chickens for you
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stubborn a weapon
😤😤😤😤
in my tl;dr era
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