tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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fucking swype, the enemy of me who doesn't read my own tags

[superniceone]

It feels like a bitter balancing of the scales, the payment for the joy and contentment Gustave had found in Verso this morning all coming due at once. He should have just kept his mouth shut. I'm crazy about you, Verso said, and selfishly he wanted more. He scurries away like he'd rather be anywhere else, and Gustave really does look absolutely fucking miserable when Lucien comes crashing into him.

He fixes him with an affectionately cross look, before gently shaking him off. "Only a little offense taken," he says, and then clears his throat. "I'm feeling a bit under the weather, actually. Probably best to head home."

Lucien makes a face. "Oh, don't be that way. Tonight's going to be great, come on."

"Next time, my friend," Gustave promises. He's trying to be good, to wait for Verso to actually return instead of just bailing, but he's clearly antsy.

how dare you catch it so i can't immortalize it

[recreatable]

Verso drinks an entire glass of wine at the drinks table before even trying to procure something for Gustave. "Oh," says the poor, sweet woman handing them out. "Okay."

When he finally does return, two very full glasses in hand and a slight wine stain on his lips, it's with some reluctance to approach Gustave and his friend. Being weird about this is just going to make everything worse, so he pushes down any discomfort or anxiety to appear next to Gustave, glass held out for the taking.

"Mon ami," he says, and it's meant to sound dry and teasing instead of pointed, but he second-guesses himself after the fact. There's no time to correct himself, though, because—

"Expedition Zero!" Lucien says, clapping him on the shoulder with such friendliness that a little bit of his overfull drink spills out.

[superniceone]

Gustave's glance is a little sharply surprised at the greeting; he struggles for a moment to decide if it's the cruelest friendzoning in the world or not, and instead he just takes the cup so he can pull a long drink from it.

"I was starting to think you were just a myth," Lucien declares, and he seems genuinely delighted to have stumbled across Verso's path.

"Verso, Lucien," Gustave says, gesturing between them with his cup of wine. And then, to Lucien, in a way that could plausibly called joking, he asks: "Don't suppose you've snuck your flask in tonight."

[recreatable]

Lucien rolls his eyes, then nudges Gustave with an elbow as he shoots Verso the sort of long-suffering look you share when your mutual friend is being ridiculous. "This man. Can you believe he's desperate to leave already?"

"Oh," Verso says, eyebrows raised, trying not to look like it hurts to hear. "Is that so?"

[superniceone]

Gustave swats Lucien away with a sound of protest, holding up his cup. "I think I was just thirsty," he says, trying to brute force the mood into something less awkward. "I can't go anywhere until I see at least one of you making a fool of yourself dancing."

Lucien tuts under his breath. "Going to have to wait all night, then. I exist without flaw."

[recreatable]

Verso raises his glass in Lucien's direction. "That's the attitude, ami."

However, this is the man who has given excuse after excuse after excuse to exit an awkward situation—and this situation is certainly awkward on Verso's end, no matter how hard Gustave tries to pretend that it isn't. There's very little way for him to quickly recover from meeting Gustave's ex, being friendzoned by Gustave, having Gustave say that he loves him, and returning to find that Gustave apparently wants to be anywhere but here.

(Did I write 'Gustave' enough in that sentence or should I add like two more?)

"I'm starting to think I pulled a muscle earlier today, though." He makes a show of rubbing his leg. Obviously, he's just making Gustave unhappy by being here, so the polite thing to do is excuse himself so that Gustave can enjoy the rest of his night. "Might, uh, head home and rest. Us senior citizens have to take it easy."

"Mon dieu," Lucien says, shaking his head. "Is there anyone here who isn't trying to leave?"

seven gustaves, ah ah ah

[superniceone]

Gustave's brow furrows again, because— why! Why did Verso look hurt by Gustave tapping out if he was just going to do it himself!

"Look on the bright side," he says, and realizes he has no idea how to salvage this evening. He passes his mostly-full cup over to Lucien, who just looks baffled. "More wine for you, isn't it?"

"It's not like we're running low," Lucien says, bouncing a disappointed look between the two of them. "Really, you're both off this early?"

[recreatable]

Great. He's not sure how to take that furrowed brow, but he's already committed. Verso takes a large sip from his cup, then pats Lucien on the shoulder. "Just me." He's unilaterally making that decision for Gustave, because unilaterally making decisions for people he cares about has worked out really well in the past. As a Dessendre, respecting agency is practically illegal for him.

Canting his head toward Gustave, he says, "This one's just afraid to dance in public, but I've heard bullying is a very effective cure for that."

[superniceone]

"No, I'm heading out, too," Gustave cuts in, and it's only now that Lucien seems to put some of this together; open curiosity dawns on his face while Gustave speaks. "I just wanted to see how things were going— I'm sorry if I got your hopes up. Send my love to the rest of the team "

Gustave holds out his hands, palms out, and takes a few steps backwards. They're not even in the thick of it yet and he's overwhelmed; it would have been tolerable if he were with Verso for it, too, but left alone he can only see his social battery draining rapidly.

[recreatable]

Verso's gaze flicks to Gustave, and he opens his mouth, looking like he wants very badly to say something—but he doesn't.

Lucien, suddenly becoming acutely aware that he's stumbled into a strange, uncomfortable dynamic that he has no idea how to navigate, clears his throat. "Right." Now it's him who's looking for an excuse to leave this conversation, which is uncharacteristic of him. "Well, it was nice to see you, Gustave."

He reaches out to shake Verso's hand; Verso takes it, a firm, enthusiastic grip despite the deeply awkward situation. "Good meeting you, my friend."

A brief pause, and then— "Alan!" Lucien calls. "Did Catherine put you up to wearing that?"

Then he's gone, and they're left alone. Verso drains the rest of his cup before setting it aside. "I can loiter, if—" He gestures vaguely. They're going to have to walk in the same direction, and given that Verso has already spoiled the entire evening, it's only fair to give Gustave an out. "Give you a head start."

[superniceone]

Gustave looks a little guiltily after Lucien; he'll check in on him later, when he's got more capacity for it. Right now, he's just giving Verso an annoyed look at the suggestion and holding out his hand. "Not if you've got an injured leg," he says, tone a little dry.

[recreatable]

Verso hesitates for a split-second, then: "Yeah," he says, reaching out to take the offered hand and putting on a little limp as he does so, hoping to make Gustave laugh. Or at least roll his eyes in fond exasperation.

Although it would certainly make Gustave roll his eyes in fond exasperation, he suppresses the urge to say something ridiculous like I will definitely need your tender ministrations on my very injured leg, all night!!! Jockeying for attention seems unwise, given that he's taken far too much of Gustave's attention already.

Still, he says, "It's really bad. Guess I was too vigorous this morning."

[superniceone]

Gustave's primary concern is that Verso is going to stop jockeying for attention, that his unwise and poorly timed confession is going to get him iced out. It's one of the reasons why, exasperated as he is, he's relieved that Verso agreed to take his hand—as ridiculous as that little fake limp is.

"Always looking for an excuse to amputate," Gustave says, and while his eyes are ahead and his tone is fairly flat, there's a very slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. "Suppose you'll need to take it easy next time we, uh. Practice dancing."

[recreatable]

On a rational level, he's aware that he should never have let it get this far. On a more base, human level... surely it would be all right for there to be a next time. And maybe a time after that. And a few times after that, too. Just to get it out of his system before he self-exiles and never feels the touch of a human ever again.

So: "Yeah, maybe it's time to let you do the hard work." Teasing. It was a new experience for the both of them, but certainly newer for Gustave.

He falls silent for a moment after that, waiting until the sound of crowds and music has died down to say, "Sorry for making things weird." A pause. "Again."

It feels as if he owes an explanation beyond just an apology; it isn't the half of it, but he starts with, "I haven't had anyone say something like that to me in a long time."

[superniceone]

"Verso," Gustave says, but there's nothing to follow immediately. He's thinking, telegraphed by another squeeze of the fingers. He doesn't know how to say he knows that he's breaking his own heart here — that a part of him has genuinely always known that this wasn't meant to last forever. "I know. And I— I'm aware it's one of those things that should have remained unsaid. I'm very good at complicating things needlessly, it turns out."

He finally glances at him, brief, his expression neutral. "We could just erase this evening. I'd be fine with that."

Gustave can see Verso's discomfort with Lumière every time he's forced outside, can see the longing to be anywhere but there clear in his unsettling Husky eyes. It'll probably be harder to convince Maelle to go without Verso backing him up — but god, if that were the only reason he wanted him to stay, telling him goodbye would be so much easier. The idea that he's ruined their last few weeks together makes his skin itch uncomfortably.

[recreatable]

Complicating things needlessly is both of their specialties, apparently. Verso raises an eyebrow, then stops and tugs on Gustave's hand to urge him to stop, too. This doesn't really seem like the sort of conversation that should happen walking side-by-side, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey." Gentle, nudging. "You know you didn't do anything wrong, right?"

It's not Gustave that's the problem—it's everything else. Gustave is actually one of the few bright lights in a real shitshow of a situation, despite the fact that Verso has fought this relationship tooth-and-nail since its inception. Fumbling, he says, "It's not a matter of... not feeling similarly."

Which he probably shouldn't say, although it feels like such a weight off of his shoulders to admit. Like letting out a breath he's been holding to the point of discomfort. Dry: "...It's needlessly complicated."

[superniceone]

Gustave knows that Verso feels—well, similarly enough. His own life has been fairly straightforward, uncomplicated (if you ignore the identity-shaking implications of the last few months). His relationships with the people around him, at least, have been no more convoluted than anyone else's in Lumiere's, at least. He knows how he himself feels, but he can't imagine what it must be like in Verso's head, in his heart. He's lived a long time, and very few of those years have seemed easy. But the feelings must be similar enough, he thinks—and regardless of the assumption, it's still a relief to hear it voiced.

"I know I didn't," Gustave says finally, exhaling a breathy sort of half-laugh. "That's why I didn't apologize." It's tongue in cheek; he's aware it was very much an implied apology. "I just— I don't want to cast a shadow over the last days we have together. That's all."

[recreatable]

"Cast a shadow?"

There's a shadow, yes, but it isn't cast by Gustave. These 'last days' only exist because Verso wanted to spend time with Gustave, the right thing to do be damned; he knows that it's in Maelle's best interest for him to disappear from this place, but he'd been selfish enough that he wanted to have his cake and eat it, too.

With a sheepish expression, he says, "You know, I must have read and re-read that poem you had Sciel deliver me a hundred times."

So, no. Not a shadow.

"I think Monoco's exact description was pathetic and lovelorn."

[superniceone]

Gustave ducks his head to laugh at that. It's probably stupid, he thinks, how much that sheepishness on Verso's face puts him at ease, but it really does, and he shakes his head. "I'm glad," he says finally, and some of the tension from the absolute shitshow of the night so far seems to ease from his shoulders.

And then, he gently shoves him. "I can't believe you dragged me out to this party and then tried to abandon me with Lucien."

[recreatable]

Verso takes the shove because he deserves it, laughing just slightly—albeit more out of embarrassment than anything else. His expression grows even more sheepish, neck reddening slightly. He'd hated the party. He'd hated being surrounded by people that remind him of how guilty he feels for being alive. He'd especially hated being called Expedition Zero.

"I... wanted you to have a good time," he admits, hangdog. "And I thought you'd enjoy yourself more if I left to brood alone."

[superniceone]

Gustave squints at him, momentarily speechless. "You remember that this was meant to be a date, right? You did actually say the word 'date.'"

[recreatable]

"I remember," he says, a little defensive but trying not to sound it. "And I also remember you telling your friend that you were desperate to leave."

The moment Verso had stepped away, in fact. Is it so farfetched that he'd think the situation was better off with himself removed from it? He doesn't think so.

[superniceone]

Gustave's expression sobers. "After I... overshared the way I did," he starts, his phrasing careful, "I thought it was pretty unlikely you'd be back." His immediate and hasty escape had made it feel a bit like Gustave had jumped onto a visible landmine with both feet.

[recreatable]

Verso's expression darkens, too, into something visibly ashamed. The thought of Gustave thinking that Verso would just up and leave after he'd said something so vulnerable is awful, and... not entirely unfounded. Isn't that what he's always done, the moment things get too close for comfort? Every time, he'd told himself that he was doing it for Gustave's benefit, but it surely hadn't felt that way on the other side. It had probably felt very lonely.

He blows a stray strand of hair out of his face, arms akimbo as he looks for the nearest trash can to hurl himself into.

"Historically," he says, and he sounds as if he's choosing his words with painstaking care, "things haven't turned out well for people who..." He hesitates, unsure if it would be too much to drop the word love here. Unsure if Gustave even still feels that way after how he'd reacted. "Care. About me."

A guilty glance Gustave's way, and he confesses, "I thought that I was protecting you." But he'd also been too selfish to deny himself, so he'd engaged in a never ending cycle of pulling Gustave closer before pushing him away.

[superniceone]

Protecting him from what, Gustave wants to ask and doesn't. He's briefly struck by the absurdity of the moment, of having this serious conversation out on the street instead of in the privacy of one of their homes. Then again, they had done so few things in this relationship normally; a heartfelt conversation in the open air of Lumière was hardly beyond the pale.

He doesn't know if this idea of Verso trying to protect him is any better or worse than his initial assumption of just being humored.

"I don't need your protection. I'm— I know what I'm setting myself up for." Heartbreak and pining, but what else is new. He makes a face, glancing away while he thinks, but his keel remains even. "I just don't think I care. I'd rather just keep you as long as I'm allowed."