superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

"I was a stranger, and your priority was Maelle. Standing between me and your father at all was heroic enough, trust me." Not the exact words Gustave would use if he knew exactly what Verso was grappling with, and maybe not the exact attitude he'd take if he knew exactly how close to death he actually came—

But he doesn't. So he's just grateful instead of scornful, and well aware that the existence of the scar on Verso's face speaks more about the complicated nature of his relationship with Renoir than words ever will.

He turns his hand to squeeze Verso's fingers with his own. "Suppose it's just difficult to be too bothered by a close call when I just think that Maelle would have just put me back together again."

It's a hard thing to chew on, the question of identity it quietly implies. Had Maelle actually put them together again, or had she painted new copies of what she'd had before? Did it matter? He's not sure he can allow it to.

"Maybe she wouldn't have," Verso can't help saying before his mind catches up to his mouth. "Maybe—" And then he stops himself, before it becomes too shockingly clear that he's thought—maybe too much—about this, what it would have been like if Gustave had died there on the Cliffs after all. If it would have changed anything.

He kisses Gustave's hand again, perhaps a little overaffectionate because he knows he has something to feel guilty for. "I would have missed you, if so."

The aborted thought draws his curiosity, not his ire, and gently he pulls his hand free. "No, finish your sentence," he says, a little amused. "She brought one of her old bullies from the academy back, but you think she might have left me out?"

Maybe, Verso thinks, if she'd spent enough time without Gustave before learning the truth, she wouldn't have wanted to stay anymore. Maybe it would never have crossed her mind to bring anyone back at all. Maybe she'd be in the real world right now, instead of living in Gustave's house.

He sinks a little further into the pillows. "Yeah, you're right. She wouldn't have wanted to live without your eggs."

Gustave watches him for a moment, lingering in thoughtful silence a little longer than he means to. Why wouldn't Maelle bring him back? Maybe if she'd come to rely on Verso — on her actual brother, not just the guardian who couldn't even keep her from going on an Expedition nine years too early. For the very first time, he wonders if Verso actually regrets saving him, and decides then that's a question he's never going to ask.

"Yeah," he says, realizing that he's let that quiet go on too long, and he flops down next to Verso a little dramatically. "They are worth keeping me around for."

They'd just hit a record, he's pretty sure. Longest they'd gone without mucking things up. Verso turns onto his side to face Gustave, desperate to get that feeling of carefree contentment back somehow— "Hey. I'm open to hearing some critique on the hut."

He's not staying there until it's got a door and a floor that won't murder him!! ... is what he wants to say, but he doesn't want to hurt his feelings (again.) "I was actually thinking I might build my own hut next door," he says, so serious he hopes it's obvious he's making a joke. "Keep some of the mystery alive."

"Yeah?" Verso asks, corner of his mouth quirking slightly. Yes, his feelings on what happened on the Stone Wave Cliffs are— complicated. But what isn't complicated is that he also happens to think Gustave is really cute!!! (This is not at all exclusive to him, because he's pretty sure everyone in the world thinks this.) "Will I be allowed to visit, at least?"

"I'm sure we can work something out. By appointment, maybe." It's naive to pretend that things are fine, but it's probably naive to let himself fall in love in the first place, circumstances being what they are -- so, fine. He reaches out, moving to catch Verso's waist like he might gather him a little closer. "Je t'aime," he says again, because he's allowed to now, and then follows up with an almost embarrassed: "Do you've got anything I can write on? Later, I mean."

He needs to start planning out what he needs to plan!!!!

It's an incredible relief that Gustave pretends things are fine, actually. Whatever doubts they have, they can both just shove them down and be happy. It's a perfect system.

"Ooh," he teases, reaching out to affectionately arrange a few wild strands of hair, "you're sexy when you're planning." Unfortunately, there really is nothing hotter than when Gustave is being dorky. ...Also, it might be beneficial to actually put some thought into this rather than figuring it out as they go, the way Verso has been doing for decades.

"I'll get you a notebook and paper." He's instantly brought back to images of Gustave writing in that journal of his. "Provided you don't mind me watching and sighing dreamily at appropriate intervals."

Gustave idly thinks that he'll need to retrieve that journal eventually. He'd passed it over to his Gustavlings as promised on return, though with edits made - and several of the most recent entries removed entirely, just for the sake of Maelle's privacy as much as anything else. It had been such an extension of himself at times that it would be strange to return to the Continent without it.

"Oh, you like it when I plan, do you," he deadpans back, but there's a quiet laugh in the undercurrent of his breath. He leans his head slightly into Verso's touch, the casual affection still new enough to be distractingly novel. "Don't worry- I'll do all the hard work."

Maybe he does like it when Gustave plans, so what!! It's a very Gustave thing to do, and it turns out that he's actually pretty fond of Gustave. "Ass," he says affectionately. "But if that's what you want, sure. I'll just sit around and be— what was it you called me? The most handsome man you've ever seen, bar none?"

This is perhaps a slight exaggeration of the things Gustave has said to him. Slight!!

"That pretty much sums it up," Gustave says agreeably, and he watches the ceiling for a moment with unfocused eyes, his mind clearly clicking along. "Hey," he says when the gears slow down a bit, "I think we need to be up front with Lune about Maelle's— condition. If I'm to actually get any input from her."

Eugh. Not a big fan of being upfront, but: "All right." If it's for Maelle's sake, he'll suffer through the interrogation this will likely lead to. Besides, he does trust Lune, even if that trust only seems to go one way these days. (Understandably.) "Then I'll tell her what I know."

Which is remarkably little, honestly, but unfortunately no one thought to ask Renoir more questions before he left the Canvas.

And, because he's incapable of not being a sadsack, he adds, "She might suggest you two take on the project without me. No real brainpower lost."

Gustave had been prepared for a little resistance, and he's relieved when it doesn't come. Maybe Verso is more willing to capitulate while sitting on the knowledge that he'll be gone from Lumière soon — he doesn't want to question it.

"Mmm," he hums instead, "maybe so. But morale would be at an all time low." He glances sideways at him. "Verso, she's not going to kick you off your own project."

"I know." He's, like, 40% sure, at least. The thought of having a frank and honest discussion with Lune about Maelle's condition makes him feel a little nauseated, so he falls back on flippancy instead. "I was hoping you'd fall to your knees in protest before that happened."

"No, I think Lune would like that too much," Gustave says dryly, but he's still watching him with a distant sort of concern. "I don't mind being the one to fill her in. I just wanted to make sure you were alright it with before I went and spilled any beans."

"Would it have changed anything if I said no?" he asks, and although the question itself is perhaps sharp, his tone isn't. The most important thing in the world to Gustave is Maelle—her well-being obviously takes priority over Verso's discomfort. He's not delusional enough to ever believe he could whine his way out of Gustave taking care of her as best he can.

Which is fine. If their situations were reversed, he'd gladly let Gustave endure any amount of discomfort if it meant keeping Maelle safe. He's not mad about it—the opposite, really—and he runs a quick but affectionate thumb across Gustave's cheek to express that, just in case.

"Gentlemanly of you to ask anyway."

Gustave is, just for a moment, caught off guard by the question, and it's clear he's not sure how he's meant to feel about it until Verso's following gesture of affection. "Yes, in fact," he says, "I could probably put off asking for her help for... two or three weeks before it would have a noticeable effect on what I'm able to do."

Gustave is relieved that he hasn't upset him, but he'll give him a quiet and apologetic smile anyway. A little more seriously, he'll add: "I'll do whatever I can to make you glad you kept me around." Almost anything at all, as long as it doesn't interfere with saving Maelle.

"Kept you around?" He raises an eyebrow. That's cute, but also a little sad. He does sometimes think of how things might be different if Gustave weren't around, the same way he thinks about how things might be different if he weren't, but on a purely selfish level he is glad that Gustave is around. It's less 'keeping' around and more being lucky that Gustave has chosen to stick around him at all.

"You've got it mixed up. I 'kept' Monoco around even though he smells like rotten Nevron feet." Monoco did nothing to catch these strays, but whatever. "I want you around."

It's somehow a little embarrassing to say, despite the fact that it feels so glaringly obvious. All the same, he bookends it with a little flippancy. "Who else would make me eggs?"

"I think you deeply underestimate the number of people in the world who would be willing to make eggs for you." Of course, their world is tiny and shallow and bafflingly artificial, and that's what makes him just a little bit sad. He shifts in to crowd Verso slightly, scattering a half dozen kisses his cheek and jaw and mouth, before he pulls back again to actually get up and out of bed.

"Another reason we'll have to be neighbors. I've never had this much trouble getting started in the morning."

Ugh, Gustave is very sweet. Verso feels a little bit as if he's found someone's loving golden retriever on the street and, instead of returning it to its rightful home, is keeping it for himself. Gustave can never know about this feeling, though, because he probably wouldn't be fond of being likened to a dog that Verso found wandering the road.

"Really? This is the quickest I've ever gotten up."

Not totally untrue. Usually, he spends a significant amount of time rotting in bed in the morning. Having Gustave around, despite the awkward turn the conversation took, has him downright chipper and ready to face the day.

He pushes himself up, swinging his legs around and off the mattress, although he doesn't stand just yet. "Hey," he ventures. "I've been thinking about going to see Maelle." Obviously. It has to happen eventually, and there are— things he wants to discuss with her before he absconds to the Continent to avoid his problems. Still, even though it has to happen, it makes him feel a little queasy. So, he raises his eyebrows, looking to Gustave for approval. Good idea? Bad idea?? Really, really bad idea???

It's enough to get Gustave to turn immediately back to the bed, though he feels like he's doing a pretty decent job of schooling his expression here. He lifts his hand to rest it against the side of Verso's head, an idle touch meant to be soothing — and thoughtless and impulsive enough that it's clear reflex.

"Yeah?" he prompts softly. "She'll be glad to see you. She's missed you." Gustave wonders, not for the first time, how much Maelle actually missed the man in front of him instead of the brother that was forever gone. It's an unpleasant thought he lingers on solely so there's no mental real estate available to think about how much she misses him, too, and how guilty he feels about this near-disappearing act from his own family.

"I can get Emma out of the house for a while, if you'd like a little privacy with her," he offers, already trying to find solutions to problems that haven't even manifested yet.

The reaction emboldens him a little bit. Okay. Sure. If Gustave thinks it's a good idea, then— well, that's a tad far for Verso to go, but it might be a tolerable idea. It'll always be more pleasant of an idea for Gustave than it is for him, because Gustave is painfully earnest and probably has no qualms with the idea of having an authentic heart-to-heart with Maelle—or anyone. Sincerity practically leaks out of his pores.

"Do those gears in your head ever stop turning?" he asks, although it's fond. Gustave is right to think he'll want Emma out. Gustave, too. Better that they talk alone, considering he's fairly certain there'll be at least some level of yelling and crying involved. He likes to think it'll just be from Maelle, but it would be wise to bet on both parties.

"I think I see smoke coming out of your ears." From the excessive thinking. He taps his foot against Gustave's. "How many steps ahead are you currently planning?"

It is, admittedly, a little easier to tease Gustave than it is to actually consider the details of something he finds very daunting.

"It's not like that," Gustave protests mildly, even if— yeah, it is a little like that. He's not thinking about steps as much as he's considering potential obstacles to the conversation ahead. (Or, more uncharitably: he's trying to head off any excuses that Verso might use to back out of his own plan to talk to his baby sister.)

Which isn't to say he isn't anxious as hell about the aftermath of the conversation itself. Verso's continued existence is one of Maelle's primary reasons for remaining here; she isn't going to take well to being told her family is splitting up again.

He's not going to be able to look after both of them at the same time, and that sucks. At the very least, Gustave can appreciate that he's in a relationship with someone who will never begrudge him for picking Maelle first. "It'll be alright. I know you miss her, too."

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