tfln overflow / open post

[superniceone]

(open / overflow)

Comments

oh my God it's a million degrees here with no ac i shouldn't be allowed to tag

[superniceone]

Gustave isn't sure that anything about this is sexy in any sort of traditional sense. Not to say he isn't enjoying himself - he's having a great deal of fun, actually. And so many elements of it are very close to it, only to be turned on their head.

Verso pulling his clothes loose, for example, could have been arousing if it weren't for the way that he had to pick and pluck at layers like someone opening a birthday gift wrapped with entirely too much tape.

"Is that right," Gustave deadpans, tone belied by the amusement in his eyes. His build will be probably be exactly what Verso expects: he's leanly muscled, relying more on agility than brute force. His stomach does tense under his fingers, not unpleasantly. "Do you have a pen? I should probably be taking notes."

[maelle voice] please survive

[recreatable]

Good thing Gustave doesn't voice that he just considers this sexy-adjacent instead of actually sexy. That really would bruise his ego. He's trying, really, but he's out of practice in any sort of physical affection that isn't hugging Esquie. Which is great, but doesn't have quite the same effect.

"Damn," he says, sounding not-at-all disappointed as he smooth a hand up the plane of Gustave's stomach, exploratory. "Should've brought that blue pen." With a boyish grin that belies his years: "Guess you'll have to stick to hands-on learning."

[superniceone]

It feels almost like a challenge, and - merde, he's definitely drunk, because he really can't tear his eyes off of Verso's face, especially not now that he's so close.

"Engineers tend to be extremely good with their hands," Gustave says, so earnest and innocent that the phrasing has to be intentional. He does push himself very slightly on one arm to go for another kiss quite abruptly, however - impulsively open mouthed, a little messy, just trying to telegraph that he's very much into this as loudly as he can.

[recreatable]

Oh, okay. Gustave's beard tickles his face a little, and he wonders briefly if his facial hair tickles back. Voicing that would definitely ruin the 'atmosphere' that's on thin ice already, so he keeps it to himself. He presses back against Gustave, a little push-and-pull that's close to a game, taking the given opportunity and slipping his tongue inside Gustave's mouth.

Yeah, he's definitely a bad person for this.

It's tentative at first, testing, maybe still a little clumsy, but it doesn't take long before he's licking into Gustave's mouth, and the phrase 'doing impolite things' rings through his mind and makes him laugh. When he pulls away, it's not far, and he asks, "Have you ever... fraternized with a man?" He's not beating the unsexy allegations, unfortunately.

[superniceone]

Yes, Verso's tickles him, too, but it's a light enough sensation that he's able to brush it off. It's stupid, probably, but that kiss made this feel a lot more real than the rest of this - like they'd just been teasing each other up until now. Verso's tongue in his mouth feels a lot less like a game.

The laugh concerns him for a split second, before he drops his head back against the grass and seems to accept that he's never going to live that phrasing down. "Not really," he admits with an exhale. "I had a boyfriend when I was young. This kind of thing-" He gestures between them. "Is about as far as we went. Unless you'd count this, in which case- I guess?"

[recreatable]

Aw. Gustave had a little boyfriend. That's cute. Verso quickly decides it doesn't count, for entirely selfish reasons. The idea of being the first person to do something makes parts of his brain light up that he didn't know existed. He's never been the first to do anything; everything he's ever done has just been a second-rate retread of things done by someone he'll never measure up to.

"I can teach you," he says with confidence, trying to play himself off as an expert in these sort of relations when, in actuality, he's only a few steps ahead of Gustave. He didn't ask, so he doesn't need to know. He lets his hand rest against Gustave's waistband — not insistent, just there. "If you want."

[superniceone]

If it helps, Gustave would hardly count it either. It was shy, fumbling, mutually uncertain. He doesn't regret it, of course, but he would readily agree that it's a different beast entirely from whatever this is between the two of them.

He's tempted to respond with a joke, with something teasing - that he'd welcome some professional instruction. Gustave swallows that down, errs perhaps on the slightly too serious side. "Verso," he says, then clears his throat. "Yes, obviously I want you to." He hesitates, then amends: "I want you. In case you've somehow missed that."

[recreatable]

Verso's chronically incapable of earnestness, and sometimes it seems as if Gustave is made of the stuff. It's very sweet, probably sweeter than most encounters Verso's had out here, so he doesn't give him shit for it even though he could. Gustave will already feel embarrassed enough about it in the morning, he imagines.

"Interesting choice," he says, somewhere between teasing and self-deprecating, as he one-handedly fumbles with Gustave's stupid belt. A stupid choice, actually. There are two women back there who'd offer Gustave all of this and feelings, too, but maybe that's the point. No complications. "But maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

[superniceone]

This was already borderline overwhelming as it was; adding feelings into the mix would make things hideously complicated, send him into a panic. Lune and Sciel both knew him well as a friend, as a fellow expeditioner; selfishly, it's nice that Verso doesn't know him. There's expectation of vulnerability, or - hell, even honesty, really.

It feels safe.

"You're really just collecting all this for blackmail later, aren't you," he sighs, gently swatting Verso's hand away so he can deftly pull the belt loose himself.

[recreatable]

Gustave pulls his belt loose, and Verso gets to undoing his trouser buttons. (These uniforms.) "You caught me," he says as he works the button out of its hole. "This is all part of my dastardly plan."

He does have a dastardly plan, but this definitely wasn't part of it. Verso isn't sure if that makes it better or worse, but if he has something to feel guilty for, he'll feel it tomorrow. For now, he slips the tips of his fingers under Gustave's waistband.

[superniceone]

Gustave drops his hand to touch Verso's wrist, not really to stay him as much to try to get his attention. "I can't help but notice that I'm the only one losing layers here," he says. "Hardly feels fair."

Alright, it has gotten sexier, his pupils slightly wide as he watches Verso.

[recreatable]

Verso's hand stills, although there isn't a trace of hesitance on his face. "You're right," he agrees, mild and pleasant. "I'll stop." A cant of his head, a mischievous smile on his face. "For fairness."

[superniceone]

Gustave opens his mouth, then clicks his teeth shut. He'd quite literally asked for this, and he's got no room to complain, but he is going to wrinkle his nose at Verso. It's easier to give in to impulse now that he's started; so he shifts in to try to kiss that mischief off of his mouth, moving to slide Verso's jacket from his shoulders.

"Oh," he says, like he's just realised something, "sorry if the metal is- cold." Or just generally unpleasant, really. He doesn't mind his arm, but it does feel especially foreign in a moment like this.

[recreatable]

Verso helps, shedding his outer layers with ease and tossing them on the ground beside Gustave. The arm is— different, but not bad. Nearly seven decades of endless repetition; he'll take different.

"Makes you look rugged," he says, ostensibly teasing but a little too soft to be truly making fun. He's not sure if the arm is a sore spot, and he wouldn't want to press it if it is. "Bet it's a hit at parties."

[superniceone]

"Wait till you see me juggle with it," Gustave says, but Verso makes it easy to mirror his softness. He rucks up the front of his shirt with open interest and curiosity, skimming his hand over his bared stomach. "You know I wasn't joking when I called you obnoxiously attractive, right?" It's not often that he finds men this appealing. Maybe it's the imminent doom - that certainly couldn't hurt.

[recreatable]

It's definitely the imminent doom, but pretty much everyone Verso has ever been with had imminent doom hanging over them, so Gustave's in good company. Dead company, but good company.

"I get the sense you just wanted to say obnoxious." Which would be true, although he's still only teasing. A jacket seems like tribute enough, so he flattens his palm against Gustave's stomach and slides it underneath his waistband, deliberately casual, like he does it every day. "You aren't half-bad yourself."

[superniceone]

Gustave gives him an amused look at the statements, but doesn't refute either of them. He's a little too distracted, even if he'd wanted to, his stomach going tense beneath his hand in - not anxiety. Anticipation. God, he has no idea if he should have drunk more or less at this point.

"And this is you teaching me, is it?" He's actually embarrassed by how much just the sight of this is doing for him.

[recreatable]

Better that Gustave didn't seek out Lune or Sciel; he was right, the atmosphere of having someone stick their hand down his pants on the ground is lacking. Gustave seems to be enjoying it all the same if the way his muscles jump is any indication, and Verso's emboldened to skim his touch lower to see just how much he's enjoying it. His fingers are littered with piano calluses, but they're gentle.

He senses— maybe not nervousness, but nerves in some form. (Then again, Gustave is eternally a bundle of nerves, so this is nothing new.) In an attempt to make Gustave laugh, he says, "You can call me Professor if you like."

[superniceone]

It succeeds: Gustave snorts a laugh, but only after a particularly sharp inhale of breath when Verso's callused hands brush much more sensitive flesh. As lacking as any atmosphere might be, Gustave's enjoyment is both obvious and undeniable, and he flusters slightly. He feels like he's being teased. He isn't sure he minds.

"Professor," he echoes, recovering and wrinkling his nose. "Didn't know this was going to be a roleplay kind of thing."

[recreatable]

"It could be." He could be anyone Gustave wants him to be; he's already spent his whole life filling roles he doesn't quite fit into. But the idea of playing a role on top of playing a role takes the wind out of his sails a little bit, and he's quick to move on from the suggestion, letting his hand wander so that Gustave's attention turns toward more pressing matters.

His range of motion is somewhat limited with all of Gustave's clothes still fully on, but he makes the best of it, uncertain if taking too much off might cross a line. His hands move in careful, smooth strokes, like playing a glissando. "Just relax." I am relaxed, he can practically hear Gustave say, in the least relaxed tone anyone has ever had. "I'll do all the hard work." He leans in, then, cheeky. "Just like in battle."

[superniceone]

"How in the world do you expect me to relax," Gustave says in the least relaxed tone anyone has ever had, bucking only the most minor of expectations. The cheekiness gets a roll of the eyes, and the way Gustave kisses him then is a faux reprimand.

It's sweet that Verso is so careful about respecting boundaries - or at least, Gustave would think that much, if he had even the slightest idea of the fact that was happening - but mostly he just thinks that he's being teased in multiple ways.

"Idiot," he whispers toothlessly, his thighs tensing pleasantly before he chases Verso's hand from his trousers - just so he can start unbuckling Verso's in turn. "We share the work in this team. Maybe you missed that memo."

[recreatable]

He'll totally respect all your boundaries except the boundary of wanting to stay alive. That's too far.

"Hm," he says thoughtfully, reaching to help Gustave with his belt. He wouldn't have been particularly offended if Gustave hadn't wanted to reciprocate the touch—a dying man is probably allowed to be selfish—but it's a pleasant surprise that he does. "That's not what you all said when I saved you from that Gargant."

Very unfair. Verso has decades more experience with the Nevrons, and he doesn't fear death. But he doesn't mind playing the hero; he was created with an insistent desire to die for someone, and a complete incapability of doing so.

"I have heard engineers are good with their hands." From Gustave. Like, five minutes ago.

[superniceone]

Verso really doesn't know Gustave at all if he thinks there's a world where Gustave wouldn't basically need to reciprocate to really enjoy himself at all in the first place.

"That's what you want to talk about right now?" Gustave's head is tilted slightly down, his eyes cut up to Verso for just a moment. "You want to have a discussion about that fight with the Gargant, right at this exact moment?"

Because he is clumsily trying to shuck the loosened pants of Verso's uniform (outfit? costume??) down enough that he doesn't need to go fishing inside to reach him.

[recreatable]

Gustave is a little more bold than Verso gave him credit for; he did, he supposes, sign up for a glorified suicide mission. Pulling down some random guy's pants in the woods probably doesn't compare in terms of bravery.

In case it wasn't obvious that he's been enjoying himself, too, it is now. It always feels good to be around someone who doesn't have a mountain of preconceived expectations for him, and Gustave is— fun, surprisingly, for someone who's worried almost every minute of every day. And not half-bad to look at, definitely.

It's fair now, he thinks, to tug Gustave's trousers down as well. So he does, an insistent little pull at the waistband to encourage Gustave to lift up and help. "What Gargant?"

[superniceone]

Gustave doesn't mean to laugh at that; it just bubbles out in a way that surprises him, and he lifts his hips enough to make the job a little easier.

"Good answer," he grins, and - god, this is weird. He wants to look at him, study this body that is so very unlike any one he's been intimate with before, but that feels like too intense an ask even for him. No, this was meant to be quick and messy by design - strictly mutual stress release.

But that won't stop him from taking hold of Verso with his flesh and blood hand, watching his face with the focus of a scientist as he strokes him experimentally.