Verso must have been mistaken, and Gustave is no older than twelve, because this is the lightest accosting he's ever had. It makes him want to pat Gustave on the head condescendingly. He doesn't, of course; he just links his hands behind his head as a cushion, unbothered. He's a little too old to get precious about a drunken touch of the hand.
Still, Gustave really has set himself up for bullying. "It all makes sense. Now I know why you were begging me to skinny dip."
To his credit, he seems fully unbothered by the bullying, and he turns his head to face Verso fully with a wrinkle of the nose. Very seriously, he'll ask: "Merde. Have you only just now figured out I was hitting on you? You're a bit thick, huh."
He wasn't, of course, but it's more fun to lean into the banter than it is to run from it.
Oh, he likes drunk Gustave. He's way more fun than sober Gustave.
But all the same, Verso is actually not thick enough to believe that, so he just snorts. It took Gustave four drinks and the end of the world to conjure up an interest in him. They're not going to be exchanging love letters any time soon.
"Yeah, and you were only brooding so I'd think you were sensitive."
"And?" He's egging him on slightly here, smiling. "Did it work?"
Stupid, maybe. Juvenile, for sure. But it's sort of a relief, being able to make these kinds of casual jokes without years of shared and storied history hanging threateningly over their heads, ready to complicate what could be simple.
Gustave should not egg him on, actually, because he's already constantly egging himself on. Give him an inch, and he'll take a mile (or, since they're French, give him a millimeter and he'll take a kilometer?). Verso shifts onto his side so that he can lean in a little, mischievous.
"This might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not always great at picking up signals." Gustave whispers this like it's a massive confession, grinning a little crookedly at Verso when he leans in. "But there are moments when you make me wish I was a little more reckless."
Verso had actually felt sort of awful listening to Gustave brood, but he feels awful most of the time, so it's not like that's anything special. But he's happy to play along, pretend Gustave's story of grief had him mooning over his sensitive and vulnerable nature; Gustave is practically doing the same, anyway. Nothing wrong with a little lying to each other.
"Oh, I wholeheartedly support recklessness." A crooked grin to match Gustave's own. "You should definitely be more reckless."
Does it really count as lying if they're both so acutely aware of the fact that it's just shared fiction? There had been nothing romantic or tender about their conversation; he imagines they both found it a little uncomfortably raw, even if it did ultimately feel good to speak the words.
Gustave seems to consider the encouragement for a moment, his eyes cut down obviously to Verso's mouth, before he bursts into incredulous laughter again. "Guy talk. I would never live it down."
Verso takes the brush-off well, in a way that suggests it hasn't bruised his ego in the slightest. He throws a cursory glance back at the campfire. Sciel catches his eye and waves, before he settles down on his back again.
"Ah," he says, in false-regret. "Should've gotten you more blisteringly drunk."
Gustave snorts quietly at Sciel's wave, as if to indicate how thoroughly his point has been made. He's not quite drunk enough to impulsively do much more than an awkward arm touch, but he can't help his own curiosity.
"I really can't tell if you're- if I'd- hmm." He rolls onto his side as well, as if that might keep the conversation just between them. "If I did- invite you off somewhere, privately. I have no idea how you'd respond."
It's less that he's thinking of doing just that, and more an admission that he still finds Verso's thoughts and motivations extremely opaque.
Even four drinks in, the cogs of Gustave's mind are still eternally moving, apparently. It's really not a big deal; Gustave wouldn't be the first expeditioner Verso's shallow charm worked on, and unless a Bible-level miracle happens and they succeed here, he won't be the last. Of course, Verso doesn't say any of that aloud. It's probably not very endearing.
Teasing: "Should I invite you, then?" A cant of his head, a quirk of his lip. "Take the pressure off?"
It's the glimpses of vulnerability, the careful reading of the Expeditioners that feels genuine that have warmed Gustave to Verso more than any of his more overt attempts to be charming. The teasing tone makes him laugh quietly, still just watching him like that might help him crack the code.
"I don't think you've got any interest in doing that," he says, similarly neither offended nor upset. If anything, a little embarrassed when he finishes with: "But if you do ever ask, I don't think I'll say no."
Verso makes a face at Gustave's modesty—which, somehow, against all odds, he's determined is genuine—before pausing, as if contemplating the idea. Then:
"And I don't think you'll remember this in the morning." At least, not in any significant way that isn't clouded by embarrassment and regret. "I'm a consummate gentleman, remember?"
Gustave does, actually, look moderately offended at that, before he swears softly under his breath. "Do you really think I'm that boring?"
His shoulders shake with soft laughter, and he drags his hand down his face. "That I must be - blackout drunk after four glasses of wine because I'd - do impolite things to you in private?"
Okay, upon reflecting on his own phrasing, maybe he's a little drunker than he'd realized. But he stands by his point.
Before the wine, Verso hadn't chosen to spend quiet conversation with him over the company of their friends - which happened to include two of the most beautiful women alive. Regardless, Gustave rolls his eyes at that. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that drunk words are sober thoughts? I'm not this way because I don't- want things."
He makes a sound like he's annoyed, flopping onto his back again.
Gustave's annoyance is somehow ridiculously endearing, and he remembers his thought from earlier, that drinking with someone was no way to remain unattached. He reamends his declaration that he wouldn't get attached with a less strict one: it's all right to be, like, a little attached to the expeditioners. Just a smidge. Hardly even noticeable.
He grins.
"Are you trying to talk me into taking advantage of you?" he asks, amusement in his voice. "You should know, I'm very impolite."
It would be frustrating how infectious Verso's grin was if he weren't enjoying himself so much. "Would it be more appealing if we called - it community service? I have spent the last several years too busy with the Lumina Converter for fraternization, you know. Maybe I'll be less of a stick in the mud."
It's very dumb, and made even dumber by the fact that Gustave calls it fraternization. That's all the proof Verso needs to know that Gustave is out of practice. Next, he's probably going to say something like 'funny business'.
"When you put it that way, it would be wrong not to."
Gustave holds his own face, just sitting with this for a moment. "Great. Love this. I've made myself literal charity case. This is why I drink alone." He's laughing pretty hard though.
Verso pushes himself up to a sitting position; the wine makes his head feel a little swimmy as he does. The laughter from the campfire has died down significantly, but he can still hear the sound of Lune and Sciel talking in low tones. It feels somewhat like being sent to bed while his parents were throwing a party, and hearing the muffled sound of revelry through his walls.
"I'll admit it's been awhile since I seduced anyone," he says, because he too is admittedly out of practice after years of staying uninvolved with expeditions, "but I think"—said like it's only a theory, when he's certain it's a fact—"you might be terminally incapable of taking a hint."
"It's not the first time I've heard that," Gustave says, and it's not untrue. He squints his eyes closed like he's putting a lot of effort into thinking. After a moment's deliberation, he lifts himself with his arms and rotates just enough to drop his head against Verso's knee.
It's just a better vantage point to sort of watch him. "Could also be that I'm trying to give you an out for when you sober up. It's not impossible."
Verso looks down at the head against his knee, watching Gustave watch him. "You know, I've never had to convince anyone this much before." Usually, there's not any convincing involved at all. He already molds himself to be the sort of person other people might like; that does the heavy lifting for him. Good-naturedly, he adds, "You're hurting my ego."
Gustave says 'don't play pitiful' like he isn't the one who's been making Verso persuade him into doing impolite things to each other for the past five minutes. (Sorry, fraternize.) All the same, Verso laughs dryly and rolls his eyes before standing, pulling Gustave up by the hand.
"Not to criticize, but you could sound a bit more enthused." Still smiling, still good-natured.
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Verso must have been mistaken, and Gustave is no older than twelve, because this is the lightest accosting he's ever had. It makes him want to pat Gustave on the head condescendingly. He doesn't, of course; he just links his hands behind his head as a cushion, unbothered. He's a little too old to get precious about a drunken touch of the hand.
Still, Gustave really has set himself up for bullying. "It all makes sense. Now I know why you were begging me to skinny dip."
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He wasn't, of course, but it's more fun to lean into the banter than it is to run from it.
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But all the same, Verso is actually not thick enough to believe that, so he just snorts. It took Gustave four drinks and the end of the world to conjure up an interest in him. They're not going to be exchanging love letters any time soon.
"Yeah, and you were only brooding so I'd think you were sensitive."
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Stupid, maybe. Juvenile, for sure. But it's sort of a relief, being able to make these kinds of casual jokes without years of shared and storied history hanging threateningly over their heads, ready to complicate what could be simple.
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"Oh, yeah. You didn't catch the swooning?"
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"Oh, I wholeheartedly support recklessness." A crooked grin to match Gustave's own. "You should definitely be more reckless."
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Gustave seems to consider the encouragement for a moment, his eyes cut down obviously to Verso's mouth, before he bursts into incredulous laughter again. "Guy talk. I would never live it down."
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"Ah," he says, in false-regret. "Should've gotten you more blisteringly drunk."
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"I really can't tell if you're- if I'd- hmm." He rolls onto his side as well, as if that might keep the conversation just between them. "If I did- invite you off somewhere, privately. I have no idea how you'd respond."
It's less that he's thinking of doing just that, and more an admission that he still finds Verso's thoughts and motivations extremely opaque.
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Teasing: "Should I invite you, then?" A cant of his head, a quirk of his lip. "Take the pressure off?"
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"I don't think you've got any interest in doing that," he says, similarly neither offended nor upset. If anything, a little embarrassed when he finishes with: "But if you do ever ask, I don't think I'll say no."
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"And I don't think you'll remember this in the morning." At least, not in any significant way that isn't clouded by embarrassment and regret. "I'm a consummate gentleman, remember?"
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His shoulders shake with soft laughter, and he drags his hand down his face. "That I must be - blackout drunk after four glasses of wine because I'd - do impolite things to you in private?"
Okay, upon reflecting on his own phrasing, maybe he's a little drunker than he'd realized. But he stands by his point.
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He imagines that Gustave is, in fact, very polite even when doing 'impolite things', but that's not the point of argument right now.
"You weren't offering before the glasses of wine."
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He makes a sound like he's annoyed, flopping onto his back again.
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He grins.
"Are you trying to talk me into taking advantage of you?" he asks, amusement in his voice. "You should know, I'm very impolite."
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This is so dumb.
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"When you put it that way, it would be wrong not to."
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Gustave holds his own face, just sitting with this for a moment. "Great. Love this. I've made myself literal charity case. This is why I drink alone." He's laughing pretty hard though.
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"I'll admit it's been awhile since I seduced anyone," he says, because he too is admittedly out of practice after years of staying uninvolved with expeditions, "but I think"—said like it's only a theory, when he's certain it's a fact—"you might be terminally incapable of taking a hint."
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It's just a better vantage point to sort of watch him. "Could also be that I'm trying to give you an out for when you sober up. It's not impossible."
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"Not to criticize, but you could sound a bit more enthused." Still smiling, still good-natured.
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oh my God it's a million degrees here with no ac i shouldn't be allowed to tag
[maelle voice] please survive
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