tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

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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."

[superniceone]

Gustave snorts, stepping in close and reaching up to thumb that button loose again. "Better if you pay it no mind when I'm being jealous," he murmurs, affectionately squeezing Verso's hip before leading them back out into the streets of Lumière.

[recreatable]

Verso decidedly doesn't point out that Gustave still sort of looks like a guy who just had ill-advised sex. It's cute, he likes it! Gustave probably would like it less, so he keeps his mouth shut, entertaining Gustave with offhanded comments about the buildings they pass—that place used to be a restaurant; worst coq au vin you've ever had—until they make it back to his place.

"Monoco," he says once they're inside. "Why don't you go hang out in the bedroom?"

If Monoco could narrow his eyes, he would. "I'm beginning to question whether this is a roommate relationship of equals."

[superniceone]

Gustave's default is a little bit rumpled, but it's true he probably could have used a solid run of said brush through his hair before presenting himself to the general public. Ignorance is bliss, however.

They will, at one point, pass two wine-drunk young women, taking a stroll arm in arm and chatting whilst they take a break from the event on the Harbor; they whisper a bit to each other, glancing their way. Gustave tells himself that he settles his hand on the small of Verso's back because Verso will like the little streak of possessiveness, and refuses to acknowledge the extremely juvenile fact that it does actually make him feel a little better.

"Sorry, Monoco," Gustave says as he pulls his boots off to tuck by the door. "Indulge us one more time?"

Monoco makes a dismissive sound as he makes his way toward the bedroom. "I know when I'm not wanted," he sighs, and shoots Verso a meaningful look — are you sure this is a good idea? It's especially impressive considering how expressionless his mask is.

[recreatable]

It's objectively a bad idea, in fact, but Verso has already gone through ten stages of brooding about this, and he's determined to not let himself ruin the night any more than he already has. He'll face the consequences when he comes to them.

So, he says, "Just one more time?" before heading over to perch on the piano bench, patting the seat beside him. Whatever happened to Gustave being at his beck and call, huh???

[superniceone]

"I never said just one more time." Gustave holds up a finger, a moment, settling his things on the couch and retrieving the wine before he takes the seat next to Verso. He bumps Verso's leg gently with his own, before plinking a soft melody — simple, like the one before.

"Strange, the way memory works," he muses, lowering his hand. "My mother taught me that. I couldn't tell you the name of it, or write the notes down, but..." It surfaces the moment his hand is on the keys.

[recreatable]

Verso could tell you the notes! He makes a mental record of them, just in case. "You have good hands for the piano," he says, canting his head. "Nice, slender fingers." This is not a come-on—Gustave does have nice hands, perfect for all that little detail work he does. "...And that metal arm of yours can probably play twice as fast."

He shifts so that the sides of their legs pressed together, as if by accident. There's just not a lot of room on this bench! An index finger presses down on the keys, a soft C ringing out, and then—

"You need to catch up." He gestures to the wine. "I'm already two glasses in." And he'd feel better if Gustave were a little tipsy while he plays.

[superniceone]

Gustave would have laughed if he'd known Verso was inventing reasons for physical contact, considering they've hooked up twice today. "No good if one hand plays at half the speed of the other," he says with a little laugh.

He bumps his shoulder into Verso's, taking a long pull directly from the bottle. "And alright. You get warmed up and I'll do the same."

[recreatable]

Verso's fingers play idly: C-D-E, then D-E-F, then E-F-G. "It's been a while since I've played," he admits. Just that time for Maelle and Esquie, and not much else. "I'm a bit rusty."

He still has nearly a century of experience behind him, so 'rusty' is relative, but he can still feel it all the same. The muscle memory is there, but it feels like coming back home after a long vacation elsewhere. Everything is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

"I haven't even done any finger exercises." A pause. "Traditional finger exercises, anyway."

[superniceone]

Gustave taps the same notes an octave down, an echo in staccato while he sips at his drink. "I'm a philistine, remember? I won't notice a little rustiness."

The quip does earn him a light jab to the ribs with his elbow. "Merde. You can't help yourself, can you?"

[recreatable]

"Nope." He's incorrigible, actually. "But I'm hoping you find it endearing."

A moment, and then he plays the little melody Gustave had played, glancing down at the other end of the piano to see if Gustave will echo that, too. It's easy enough to recreate after a near-century of practice identifying notes. He doesn't usually like someone else touching his piano, but he'll make an exception here.