tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

Comments

[recreatable]

"Oh, he's prepared," Verso whispers, less an attempt to be sexy than out of a desire not to be heard anyone who may still be in the house—although it is very sexy to be whispered to by Gustave. Also very sexy that he's prepared, actually, although Verso finds himself amused on top of that. It's just— yes, very practical. He laughs quietly.

Not complaining, though. It feels nice to have a slick glide of fingers instead of rough friction. Holding a palm up— "Are you going to share, or do you like it rough?"

Teasing. Mostly.

[superniceone]

"I'll share," Gustave tells him in that same whisper, nudging his face up against Verso's ear. "In a few minutes." It's not like they can go anywhere until Emma is unquestionably gone, and so Gustave is going to do what he tried to do back once in the hut: savor him.

He shifts to make himself a little more comfortable, on his side and leaning over Verso. Gustave kisses him soundly, immediately coaxing his mouth open so he can slip him tongue. It seems like his overt plan is to just make out with him while he jacks him off.

[recreatable]

Well, Verso feels like he should be offended by the implication that he's only going to last a few minutes, but Gustave has a way about him that makes it sound sweet instead of insulting (mostly). He laughs about it anyway, grinning into the kiss as he cants his hips up to press into Gustave's hand. It's a little bit anxiety-inducing worrying about being overheard, but it also reminds him a bit of being young and dumb and sneaking girls up into his room while his parents were home. He laughs again at that.

"You have nice hands," he murmurs quietly, sincerely complimentary, and he does mean both of them. He prefers the flesh one, of course, because it's soft and warm and human, but the metal one is part of Gustave, too. "I've always thought so."

[superniceone]

Gustave has no such history— though luckily his younger sister does have a decent sense about things, and mostly didn't knock too hard just in case her brother and his fruity little boyfriend were indeed actually taking advantage of an empty house.

"So do you," he answers in hushed tones, shifting his mouth to Verso's neck. He kisses the skin softly and wetly there, before continuing: "I like your fingers in my hair." Gustave latches gently onto his neck, sucking softly onto it as his hand increases pace. "Suppose I just liked them in me, too."

His attempts are dirty talk are sheepish but genuine, and he shifts his head back up to tuck his mouth near Verso's ear. "I love the way you make me feel, mon chéri."

[recreatable]

Even Gustave's dirty talk is sweet. It makes Verso want to pin him down and do filthy things to him that would scandalize him, but he's reluctant to leave this very comfortable position, so instead—

A gentle "Hey, stop." Then, because he's not trying to get himself edged, he laughs and adds, "Just— for a moment." It's entirely warm, not at all demanding. A request, not a command, but one he hopes Gustave will fulfill. Another request: "I'd like to touch you, too."

To get off together, if that's something Gustave is amenable to. Verso certainly is; there's very little that's more arousing than having made his fruity little boyfriend feel good. "Don't deny an old man his small pleasures, mon doux."

[superniceone]

Gustave makes a noise of mock offense into his ear. He's turned on, but not so much that he's incapable of being playful, and he gives a few quick, shallow pumps against the head of Verso's dick — like he's somehow reprimanding him by making him feel good. "Small feels like an awfully critical assessment," he says, pretending to sulk for a few seconds, before he laughs and pulls away to tug Verso's trousers off fully.

He'll do the same to his own, freezing like a baby gestral in the headlights of an Expedition 63 car when he hears movement in the entryway again. The front door slams, and when there's nothing but silence to follow Gustave exhales a breathy sort of laugh in sheer relief.

[recreatable]

Oh, god—this is all so stupid. Verso laughs, too, pulling off his shirt so he isn't the only one Donald Ducking it here and tossing it haphazardly on the floor.

"Perfectly respectably sized pleasures," he corrects, grinning like the idiot that Gustave has made him into. The sort of idiot that thinks what a dork while simultaneously consumed with lust for the aforementioned dork. "Substantial, even."

Again: this is so stupid. He holds out a hand, palm up, expectant. Lubricate him, baby. "A pleasure of quite large proportions."

[superniceone]

Gustave snorts at that, trying to downplay how funny he finds every bit of this. He's not doing a very good job of biting down his own grin as he scoops a glob of the gel into Verso's waiting hand.

"Putain de merde," he whispers, and feels like Verso's erection might not wither immediately if he phrases it like he's raising a complaint: "And I'm in love with this."

[recreatable]

It's not erection-withering. It's just that it makes him feel a little guilty, the way all of Gustave's affection used to. Like he's fooled Gustave into loving him somehow. He'd meant it when he'd said that Gustave was the only person to ever love him; his life before the Fracture had just been a fabricated facsimile of someone else's, and even Monoco and Esquie knew and loved another him first. As hard as he works to be liked, it somehow feels wrong to be loved on his own merits.

He still very much has an erection, though. With a little polite manhandling, he tugs Gustave back beside him, shifting onto his side so that he can wrap a slippery hand around his erection. "I did try to warn you," he points out.

"you're irreparable invalid markup"

[superniceone]

Gustave takes advantage of the fact that they are once again home alone and groans aloud, squirming a little closer — just enough to make it easier to maneuver the mutual aspect of this. "In my defense," he says, reaching for Verso again, "you're extremely sexy." Like that's ever been a massive consideration for Gustave, considering the torch he'd carried for a woman with the most fuck-ass of all bobs.

He makes a throaty sort of noise, trying to lean into the silliness here. "Have you considered nudism? Just in the home. Perhaps only when I'm there to appreciate."

no babe YOU'RE irreparable invalid markup

[recreatable]

Uh, no, he's never considered nudism, mostly because getting caught with his dick out by a Nevron isn't his idea of a good time. But he laughs again, charmed by Gustave's silliness, and says, "Only if you participate, too, bel homme."

The heat of Gustave's body close to him and the sound of his voice and, obviously, the sensation of his hand could get Verso there nearly instantly if he let it, although he tries not to—he needs to disprove that a few minutes claim, and he doesn't want to rush Gustave to the finish line. He does try to encourage him along, though, strokes a little on the rough side because Gustave seems to enjoy a little bit of unrestrained passion.

"You really are handsome," is somewhere between dirty talk and genuine compliment. "There isn't time in the world for all the things I want to do to you. I think about it all the time."

[superniceone]

Maybe if his hut had a working door it wouldn't be such a big deal, hmmm!! Have you thought about that, Verso??

Though, to be fair to him, Gustave isn't thinking about much more than the hand on his dick. He doesn't seem to recognize that particular quirk in himself, even, the way his pulse jumps a little harder in his throat at that edge of roughness; a subconscious part of him just files it away as a default but delightful difference between sex with a man and sex with a woman.

The dirty talk has him laughing, though, chasing Verso's mouth for another deep kiss. "Not to invite trouble," he says, voice a little husky, "but haven't you done just about everything a man can do to another man?"

[recreatable]

Aww, Gustave is so cute. It's like he has no idea that there are kinkier things in this world than being bitten. Now is not really the time to start proposing freaky things that might weird Gustave out, though, so he just says, a little breathless but still cocky, "I'm imaginative."

He closes his eyes, then, focusing on the relatively safer option of sweet nothings. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he says with unabashed appreciation, unsure if he's referring to Gustave's hand or his cock. Both, maybe, although the way he jerks against Gustave's fingers perhaps tips the scales in their favor. He squeezes Gustave in his palm, a firm downstroke, as he says, "Mon ange, you're too good to be true."

[superniceone]

I'm imaginative in that smug tone of voice is going to absolutely haunt Gustave. Is there more that Verso wants? More that Gustave should be doing?? The sweet nothings suggest otherwise, but there's no denying that he's a little in his own head now.

He does his best to file it away for consideration later, admittedly a little overloaded with sensory input right then. It's a little humiliating how much the words themselves do for him; Gustave swallows a grunt down, rutting up against Verso's hand. "I adore you," he whispers after a long beat of silence, his breathing a little stilted. "And every moment with you. Darling, darling, please—" A strange little plea, but it strikes him how much Verso always seems to focus on Gustave getting off first, over himself, and he pushes back just slightly here.

the default iconing will continue until morale improves

[recreatable]

Well, they're obviously both into receiving flattery during sex, so that's definitely one to bring up later.

He does prefer to get his partners off first whenever possible, an attempt at being gentlemanly or maybe some sort of pathological inclination to put himself last; it's impossible not to come when Gustave pleads in that sweet voice of his, though—another thing to consider!—and he spills into Gustave's hand before he can try to stop himself.

Never let it be said that he's an inconsiderate lover. His hand doesn't still for an instant, save for perhaps a very brief stutter; if anything, he's more dedicated than ever to bringing Gustave to finish. "Sweetheart," he says, encouraging, cajoling. "You're perfect. Let go."

im on so many drugs im just glad I'm on the right account?!

[superniceone]

Gustave doesn't really have much choice in the matter; Verso climaxing into his fingers is still unquestionably one of the most arousing things that he's experienced to date. It's definitely less explosive than the way he'd finished this morning with Verso buried inside of him, but Gustave seems to have zero complaints, his hips jerking a little plaintively into the touch.

He shifts in to touch his forehead to Verso's while they're still lying next to each other, just resting there while he catches his breath. "Will you still play for me?" he asks finally, voice soft but warm.

honored to receive the codeine tags

[recreatable]

Verso's hand feels sticky in multiple ways; he curls it up against his chest to avoid touching Gustave with it. The question garners a laugh, because he can hardly believe that's what Gustave is thinking about right now, but— yes, obviously. He'd wanted to play for him because he'd wanted to share something personal with someone that he likes, the same way he'd wanted to share his embarrassingly dilapidated old hut or his slightly overwrought poetry. Little pieces of himself, offered shyly.

"Did you think I was only offering to seduce you?" And now that he's gotten off, he's no longer interested? Teasingly: "...I guess it worked."

won't be offended if you ghost me until recovery is over tbh ...

[superniceone]

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who seduced you this time," Gustave says, as if either of them actually require seduction in any capacity in the slightest. He shifts forward, kissing the side of Verso's lip more than his actual mouth, clumsy and lazy and comfortable. "And— no, I thought you might just be—"

He struggles for a moment, not sure how to say he thought Verso might prefer to just end the date here for simplicity's sake without sounding self-effacing. "Tired," he lands on finally, a little lamely.

no i welcome the codeine tags with open arms

[recreatable]

One eyebrow raises just slightly, questioning. Gustave talks like this is something Verso would want to escape, and sure, he'd encouraged that reputation with how he'd hit it and quit it back in the wilderness, but he'd thought he'd shown that he's turned over a new leaf. Thought that Gustave knew that he wants to be around him all the time, and that when Gustave isn't around, a large portion of Verso's brainspace is dedicated to thinking of him.

"I'm not tired," he says back, just as lamely.

Well, he is a little bit. But not too tired to entertain Gustave with a bottle of wine and his piano, and definitely not too tired to kick Monoco out of the bedroom so that he can cuddle Gustave and blame it on the wine if pressed.

"Are you? Tired?"

[superniceone]

Gustave is tired, actually, but in a peaceful sort of way — and he has the idea that Verso might take it the wrong way, like a criticism instead of a compliment. So he just hums and shakes his head no, shifting to sit up slightly.

Maelle is going to be upset at him if he spends another night away from home, he thinks vaguely, and then swallows that concern down. She's surrounded by people who love her; it's probably the least he's ever needed to actively worry about her, he tries to convince himself, and rolls off the bed to clean himself up (and to grab the sheets he'd meant to lend Verso that morning.)

"Do you want to borrow an outfit for the walk home?"

[recreatable]

"I'd like a washcloth first," he points out, shifting onto his back now that Gustave is getting up.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with the clothes he came here in—they're quite nice, if he says so himself—but he does selfishly like the idea of taking something with him that has Gustave all over it. (Probably some inherent desire to steal all of Gustave's stuff that's gone as of yet unfulfilled in this timeline.) So: "But I'll take the clothes, too."

With a nudge of his knee, he adds, "You can pick something out for me." He's curious what Gustave might choose. Verso would give Gustave his sluttiest V-neck, but he's less shameless.

[superniceone]

"I— right, of course," Gustave says sheepishly when it registers that he'd just left Verso there with a sticky, cooling hand. He disappears briefly into the bathroom to retrieve a warm rag, offering it to him and leaning in to bump a playful sort of kiss against Verso's still-bared thigh. "Sorry. It's a good thing you're not a nudist. Entirely too distracting for me."

The button-up he brings doesn't default to a plunging neckline, but Verso only needs to fasten those buttons as high as he would like. Gustave doesn't really acknowledge that he's bringing quite a bit more this time alongside his clothes — his hairbrush (!!!), his drafting journal at the very least, and he's taking what's meant to be a sly glance around to make sure there's nothing else he'd like to grab.

[recreatable]

The button-up only gets done up halfway, obviously, because he is a bon vivant and man about town who needs to be able to lean seductively in doorways while flashing his chest. You didn't mention Gustave bringing him pants, but I'm going to be a godmoder here and assume he doesn't have to do the ultimate walk of shame pantsless; he sits on the edge of Gustave's mattress and tugs the trousers on, watching as he gathers up his things. Pleased that Gustave might be planning on sticking around for more than just the morning.

"Ooh, didn't know you owned one of those," he says with a grin, referring to the hairbrush (clearly). "I could give you a tutorial on how to use it, if you want."

[superniceone]

"From the man who spent ten minutes making sure his hair would dry in the most perfectly appealing way?" Gustave shoots him a teasing grin back, hiding his disappointment at the fact that Verso found some pants to put on. "I would be most honored."

Look, he plans on staying until at least the next evening. There's a little latent guilt, too; Emma had laid it on pretty thick about how badly the boys wanted to see him again, and he wants to see them, too — he just feels guilty doing so with his mind where it's at. Maybe he can convince Verso to come along.

"Ready to go?" he asks, his eyes tracking quickly down the half-buttoned shirt, before his brows climb high.

[recreatable]

Feeling a bit slutshamed, Verso does up another button. "Well, now I am."