superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

The mechanical arm is and always has been hot, but he doesn't mind having Gustave's warmth and weight against him, either. Besides, he's the one who owes a huge backlog of post-sex affection; he cringes when he thinks of how many times he'd absconded like Gustave had done something wrong. He'd been incredibly cruel, the way he'd jerked Gustave around. He presses a kiss to the crest of Gustave's shoulder in apology—only about a thousand more of these, and he'll approach actually making up for the way he treated him.

"Will you hiss at me again if I say you're adorable?" You know, like an adorable little kitten would do.

Gustave thinks the same of himself sometimes; he'd been cruel to Verso, who had been clear upfront that emotions were never meant to be a part of this thing between them. Even now, things would probably be easier if they weren't, if they were able to work toward Maelle's safety together without this strange escapist fantasy of a romance. He wouldn't change it if he had the option— but he can admit that it'd probably be simpler if so.

"No," Gustave says, closing his eyes out of comfort, not tiredness. "I get it now. You were— extremely cute when I was teasing you." They should clean up, but he's holding onto this for just another few seconds.

"I was more going for devastatingly sexy," he gripes, although it's hard to be too upset about it while he's marinating in all of these happy after-intimacy feelings. Another reason they can't be neighbors: now that he can finally bask in the afterglow—now that he doesn't feel guilty and uncomfortable every time they're intimate—being with Gustave is like his own personal antidepressant. Which is good, considering antidepressants are yet to be invented in this world.

"Mignon," he teases goodnaturedly, leaning his temple against the space he just kissed. His pants are still partway up his legs, and he makes a halfway successful effort to kick them off. "Want to see if the bathtub will fit two people?" Cajoling: "I know how you love experiments."

"I would very much like a bath, yes," Gustave says evenly, because he does feel absolutely disgusting. "I'm sure we can make something work." He's not bothered by it, exactly, but it is quite inconvenient, being unable to reach out and reciprocate the fond and idle touching whilst they bask in the afterglow.

(He thinks abruptly about the sex they'd had in Verso's hut, how he'd tried to be the no nonsense one about it — how he'd been the one to bruise Verso's feelings that time. They were both too stupid to live, he thinks.)

Gustave pushes another kiss into Verso's hair, before he reluctantly rolls off the mattress. If he's a little distracted, it's because he's thinking over plans again. What the fuck do you tie someone up with, mostly, but that doesn't really seem worth voicing out loud in the moment.

This is all going to be really inconvenient on the Continent, when they don't have a bathtub to make washing up simple; having to dip a rag into a bucket of cold water is probably going to be a bit of a mood-killer. Maybe he should start thinking about how to make the hut a little more livable, if only so Gustave isn't horrifically turned off every moment that he's there.

So, he's thinking over plans, too, although more practical ones. How the fuck do you patch a roof and all that.

The bathtub is shockingly similar to the one they'd had in the manor, and he wonders if Maelle made everything here familiar on purpose. He washes off his palm and fingers under the running water first before letting it fill. As he watches the water rise, he says, "I think I'm in the proper headspace to discuss lunch plans now."

"Oh," Gustave says, as if it takes him a moment to figure out why, exactly, Verso is bringing up lunch — it's not as if it's something he was actually trying to have a conversation about. Obviously the goal had been to annoy the shit out of Verso (but in like, a loving way). "I thought we'd just do sandwiches." Easy to eat while he's distractedly scribbling away, after all.

Though, it does seem like Verso isn't the only one with his mind on the Continent. "Should probably get our fill of good food while we can, huh."

"There'll still be good food on the Continent," he lies. "Like my signature dish, mushrooms three ways."

It's going to suck. Maybe they can bring a suitcase of canned food along with them so that Gustave doesn't end up with, like, five different kinds of vitamin and mineral deficiencies. Another plan to vaguely consider and not carry out until time is short.

"But I was going to suggest that we go out." Because he kind of ruined Gustave's night out before, but he's feeling very emotionally stable today. Or at least more emotionally stable than last night. "If you're not... out of commission."

He grins, self-satisfied, and then gestures to the now-full tub with a jerk of his chin. "You first." He'll squeeze in if there's room.

Gustave makes a face at that — he knows what some of those mushrooms can do to normal people — but he lowers himself into the tub without complaint. It'll be easier than it was on the Expedition if they're settled in one place for a while, if he's able to get something growing to supplement whatever rations he brings.

There's a lot to do in the next few weeks.

But for now he's just shifting back in the water, attempting to make as much space as he can for Verso to slip in with him. "You know there are people out there, right?" Gustave is teasing, yeah, but it's also a mask for his concern.

"Are there?" he asks lightly, although yes, of course, that's a concern. Verso used to love being around people, but now it's challenging to look at them knowing this is what Maelle is throwing her life away for. Still, there's... maybe not a lot of hope, but a little now. Maybe they might be able to keep her from deteriorating long enough for her to come to the conclusion that she needs to spend time in the outside world by herself.

He steps in beside Gustave, sinking down into the water with a bit of a splash. It's clumsy, given that the tub really isn't meant for two, but he makes himself as small as he can, just his knees knocking against Gustave's.

"Well, I've been told I'm excellent with people." He'll force himself to be, anyway. He can't hide away in this cave forever. First, lunch outside where people can see him. Next... Maelle. "I was voted Most Congenial in school."

"You know, I actually believe that one," Gustave says, and he bumps his apparently-knobby knees lightly against Verso's like he's expressing some sort of quiet gratitude. When was the last time he'd actually gone quote-unquote 'out' for a meal? Long before they'd even left for the Expedition, it had always felt like he'd always had something better to do, someplace better to be.

He'd missed that sort of thing greatly when he was actually out on the Continent before, but the concept has lost its luster a bit. Even so, he's not going to turn down an idea like that from Verso. Maybe it'll be good for them both.

"My tub is bigger, you know," Gustave points out, just in case they end up able to comfortably spend any time in his actual home before it's once again time to pack up and go. "Can't believe it took me this long to get you to skinny dip."

Verso splashes him.

"You braggart." It's funny because Gustave is terminally modest. Didn't even accept his 'handsomest man in Lumière' award when Verso tried to give it to him. "Are you really crowing about your tub being bigger?"

Heh. "Well, I've heard it's less about the size of the tub and more about the, uh, quality of the plumbing."

Gustave dips his fingertips in the water, flinging them at Verso. "Bragging? That's what's got from that obvious invitation? That says more about me than you, you realize." Oh no he likes this idiot so much.

"Maybe," he says, trying very hard to look stern and failing, "I was hoping that you'd tell me my tub is adequately sized for your needs."

The tubs are penises!!! What about this is so hard to understand.

But Gustave is being very cute again (what else is new), so Verso reaches over to wet his wild inventor hair with a palm, slicking it back the best he can. He's already fantasizing about how fetching it'll look when it dries all fluffy. "Are you inviting me over to sit in your tub?"

Okay, so he's not entirely sure what this innuendo is supposed to mean now, but at least he's finally figured out that it is, in fact, innuendo. "Yes?" Gustave says uncertainly, amused and only unsure because he's worried it's the incorrect answer somehow.

He's slouching down a little more now, reaching a hand forward to just sort of idly rest against Verso's calf. Fond, and overtly so. "But I can assure you that your, uh, facilities are more than adequate." Gustave is doing his damndest to pretend he's not being a little shit on purpose.

God, that last question wasn't an innuendo, he really does want to know if Gustave's inviting him over for a weird bath date or what!! Keep up. Maybe if Maelle has something else to do. Even if they make up, he's not sure he can tolerate her knowing that they're both naked together in the same house as her. Or maybe they can have a normal date that doesn't involve taking their clothes off, but that sounds challenging.

"I like your facilities, too." Big fan. He leans back, teasing, "Humongous tub, really."

He reaches out to graze the fingers of Gustave's free hand, the mechanical one. It's unclear to him if Gustave has any feeling there, but it's more about the principle of wanting to touch rather than the actual sensation itself. "If you're inviting me over, I wouldn't mind meeting your sister properly." Rather than, you know, in vague glimpses.

It's a question Gustave has been asked before, and he's never really been sure how to answer it. It's nothing like the feeling he has in his flesh and blood arm. He can tell when it's being touched, though he loses most detail about the touch in question; things like hot and cold don't really register at all. The motor control he has is delicate, amazing, and it's clear that he's internalized the idea that the mechanical arm really is just an extension of him, not merely a prosthetic aid.

All this to say, he's smiling a little when he turns his mechanical hand up, gently wiggling his fingers at the touch.

"I do think Emma might be dying to meet you," Gustave admits like he's a little embarrassed about it. They hadn't talked too much during his little dance lessons yesterday, but it had been enough for him to get the gist.

They've met, sort of, for like five seconds—but Verso was not at his best at that moment in time, so he'd appreciate a do-over. He'd really like Emma to like him, because she means a lot to Gustave, and therefore she means a lot to him by association. He's kind of cheating with Maelle, considering the (complex and weird) preexisting relationship, but no such luck with Emma. He'll have to charm her all on his own.

"Do you?" he asks, obviously pleased. Unfortunately, Verso is so incredibly easy. "So you've talked about me, then."

Kicking his feet and giggling and also really hoping Gustave didn't share any of their myriad relationship problems!!!

"She knows we're together, yeah." 'Boyfriend' was the word she'd used specifically, which Gustave still felt was a weirdly juvenile description of their relationship, but oh, well.

Emma hadn't asked much, hadn't wanted to pry, still not entirely sure if this was something genuine or just the desperate escapism from someone traumatized and lonely. Unfortunately, between her duties and the way he was fleeing his, she also hadn't been afforded the opportunity to spend much time with Gustave since everyone's return to Lumière. He does feel bad about that, in truth; finding more time for her had been one of the things he'd always regretted not being able to do before they disembarked.

"Though I'm fairly certain she's still trying to figure out how in the world I left for the Expedition and came back with a man. Come here, let me shampoo your hair."

Edited 2025-12-09 17:00 (UTC)

Together. Obviously, but— it still gives Verso a little thrill to hear it. It's been a long, long time since he's been with anyone, and he'd resigned himself to spending the rest of his life without ever getting too close to another human being. He's really growing to like companionship, though.

Verso does his best to turn around in the tub, swatting at Gustave's (knobby) knees so that he can scoot back between them and allow ample access to his hair.

"And here I've only told Monoco." Who didn't fully understand, of course, because he's a Gestral. "He did offer to duel you for my honor if you ever upset me, but I think that's just because he wants an excuse to duel."

"Please don't sic Monoco on me," Gustave says, sweeping Verso's hair with his hand so that he can lean in and kiss the side of his neck. "I think all three of us know I wouldn't stand a chance."

He's never really had a habit of bathing together, but— well. It's kind of nice. Or will be, at least, for the relatively few days they still have access to heated water on demand.

He lapses into silence for a moment as he wets and lathers Verso's hair, before he states, unprompted: "I can't believe you were afraid to ask me to come with you."

It's more than kind of nice for Verso; the gentle, caring touch feels good. Really good. He can't remember the last time someone did something to take care of him. Instinctively, he leans his head into Gustave's hand like a stray dog eager for a kind touch.

Verso is reluctant to be an emotional vampire here, so he doesn't say what he really thinks, which is that he'd thought Gustave coming with him might be a bad idea. Maybe it still is, although he's trying very hard not to look a gift horse in the mouth and dwell on the reasons that Gustave might be miserable, might want to leave as soon as they get there.

He flicks the water with his thumb and forefinger. "Would you have said yes?" he asks, mustering up every ounce of effort he can into sounding nonchalant. "If you didn't think that it would help Maelle?"

"Yes. I would've spent a little more time thinking about it, maybe, but I would have landed on yes." His tone is probably deceptively easy, if only because it's something he's already spent a lot of time ruminating about. How many times had he nearly just offered to come with him on blurted impulse alone?

He focuses instead on the way Verso tips into the touch of his hand, combs through his hair gently with his fingers. Gustave is also doing his best not to sound weird or sad when he adds: "I spent a long time sure that you were just— humoring my sentimentality. I still worry about, uh— smothering you, I guess. Following you like a lost pet."

It makes him feel weird and sad to hear, despite the intention. It's incredibly sad to think that Gustave felt that way, like maybe he thought that he liked Verso more than Verso liked him. It's always been the opposite, he thinks. How much he liked Gustave was the whole problem.

"I would be lucky to be smothered by you," he says decisively, hand resting on Gustave's knee. It's funny; he'd been uncomfortable around Gustave when they'd first met, nervous for reasons that had nothing to do with butterflies in his stomach. Now, the thought of being bothered by his presence seems farfetched and unrealistic.

Tone taking on a teasing lilt: "Clearly, I haven't been obvious enough in my affections if you're worried about that." A joke. It feels like he couldn't be more fucking obvious. "I'll have to dedicate another poem or three. Do you think your eyes are more russet or tawny?"

Edited 2025-12-10 02:43 (UTC)

Gustave has taken it for a simple and obvious fact that he has always liked Verso more than the inverse. It's not something that he's ever been particularly bothered about; Verso has lived a long life, one much more complicated than Gustave can even really fathom. Even during the Expedition, he'd apparently believed the only possible endings for them were death or nonexistence. It would be hard to begrudge a guy for being reluctant to open his heart with circumstances like those.

"I think you're doing a fine job," he says, gently tipping Verso's head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair. "Between your poems and the opera house, I think I've been immortalized enough." He doesn't remember if he's actually mentioned that or not — he feels super conflicted about that painting now actually!! "But I appreciate the sentiment."

With the shampoo rinsed out, he carefully maneuvers around so that he's facing Gustave again, pouring a glob of shampoo into his own palm and spreading it through Gustave's hair. Since he can't even reach the back from here, this is more a half-assed excuse to mess with Gustave's glorious mop than to actually wash his hair. He's sure Gustave is capable of lathering up the rest of it.

"The opera house?" he asks, arranging the front of Gustave's hair in such a way that it sticks straight up. "Has someone else been playing songs for you that I'm unaware of?"

Ha, ha. But also, excusez-moi?

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