[ Let it be said that Verso still feels sort of bad about this. It's not, strictly speaking, right. But it's— a moral grey area. Gustave hadn't felt taken advantage of, wants this of his own free will. He's had casual entanglements with Expeditioners before. The only thing that makes this one different is that he let Gustave get stabbed.
Probably a big difference.
But he tries not to think about that as he sits propped up against a tree a few minutes' walk from camp, hair very purposefully tousled and collar artfully rumpled. There's lots of benefits to doing this. Good stress relief. And it certainly wouldn't hurt to solidify Gustave's trust. And he'll never have to deal with the consequences, seeing as how they'll all be consigned to oblivion soon anyway, if he gets his way.
So, he poses attractively against the tree trunk, in a way that he hopes screams 'sexy, but not like I care'. ]
[ It's very artful, Gustave thinks, as he steps into the clearing and sees Verso waiting for him.
This probably isn't a sensible idea, given their proximity and the likelihood of their incoming death, but that makes him feel as if there's all the more reason to do it. He's already almost died once, so it's not that far away, not a foreign concept, and if he's going to die in this fight he'd rather die having had a little bit of fun. That's what niggles in the back of his mind, pressuring him gently.
Plus, he likes Verso. Thinks he's fine, and handsome, and funny, and unfortunately quite charming. It makes it easier.
Shaking his head, he puts the plate of food down on a nearby rock, his lips curling ever so gently. ]
Bonsoir, mon ami. [ He looks so effortlessly sexy it's actually pissing Gustave off a little bit, but in a way that makes him want to be equally sexy. ] Did you want to eat now?
Not really, honestly. Sure, he's a little hungry, but the pangs of a skipped meal are just background noise now that he's worked himself up in excitement for getting to touch another human person for a second time in years. It's selfish, but he wouldn't mind if he walked headfirst into oblivion without being incredibly pent-up.
Besides, the last time he'd felt— halting. Uncertain. Worried he was about to dislodge something load-bearing in their group and have the consequences come tumbling down on him. Now that they've discussed it very maturely like adults (with excessive euphemism), he's less concerned about this fucking things up with Gustave and consequently the whole group. Really, the only thing he needs to worry about now is answering for this in the afterlife, and he's relatively confident that Paintings just dissolve into chroma. The point being, this time is going to be even better. ]
[ Not food, anyway, and he already ate the mushrooms.
Leaving the plate where it is, he walks over to where Verso is, so nonchalant and casual despite what they had been talking about just moments before, a soft flush on his cheeks and something like glee thrumming through him. He feels hot all over, and he hopes it translates to a cool, good boy look rather than a flustered moron trying to work his way through this.
Does he just reach out and grab him? Just kiss him? It was a little easier last time, with the warm water and naked skin, though the idea of getting to be the one to strip Verso down is alluring, too.
Breathless, he moves a little closer, eyes dark. ]
[ Yeah, this is still a little weird and awkward. Verso has a split second where he's not sure if he should stay sitting or get up, then another where, as he breaks his effortfully-effortless sexy pose and stands, he wonders if he should be the one to make the first move or if he should let Gustave come to him. There's a whole lot of thinking involved that he's not used to. In the past, any encounters he'd had were usually of the quick and life-affirming kind. Rarely any repeat customers, often on account of the fact that they'd die before Verso ever got the chance to be alone with them again.
So, this is already a little out of his wheelhouse. He leans back against the tree trunk, the fur of his stupid little cape catching against the bark ridges. ]
Me, too. Can't stop thinking about the other night, actually.
[ There's a teasing lilt in his voice that suggests he is not being entirely serious here, although truthfully, he has played the scene over a few times in his head. He's always thinking about Gustave anyway—it's just that it's usually been a constant refrain of resentment-guilt-jealousy, and now there's. New feelings involved. ]
[ There is an edge of something awkward about it, but it's to be expected the first time coming together after their bath. With Verso avoiding him but not, and Gustave dancing around approaching him and keeping distance himself. Broaching it had been hard, so he's glad that first hurdle is dealt with before he ended up getting dragged down under his own guilt and self-conscience.
Standing in front of Verso now, all he really wants to do is kiss him, and he hesitates for only a moment more until he's walking closer, expression soft. ]
It made you look good. All of you. The, uh, soap.
[ Another step, and then another, and he's slipping into Verso's space, leaning down a little. His smile is an attempt at coy, but he thinks it might come across as more nervous. It was so much easier when they were already naked. ]
[ 'Next time'. Oh. Okay, so this is going to be an ongoing thing. All right. He can get behind that. Or on top of that. Or under it. Wherever he needs to be, really.
A teasing gripe: ] My hair's not that greasy.
[ He can sense Gustave's nervousness; Verso feels strangely nervous, too. Maybe it's because it's exceedingly rare to do this with the same person twice, or because it's so uncommon to do it in any way that isn't thoughtless and impulsive. Maybe it's because he knows that it must make him a very, very twisted person to stick his hands down the pants of someone he was willing to watch die.
All of the above sounds good. They can't both be nervous, though, so he tips his chin up, tries to exude a confidence that he doesn't feel. ]
So, [ he says, tone light, ] are you going to shove me up against the tree, or did you want me to do you? Thought I'd be polite and ask first.
[ Gustave wants - at least, he thinks he wants, it's quite complicated - this to be more of an ongoing thing, to take whatever is happening between them and let it flourish. It's not what he was expecting to find out here in the wilderness, and he's not going to say that he and Verso have some grand romance, but they do have something, right? He thinks they do.
Moving closer, he shakes his head, expression painfully fond. ] Maybe I just want to take care of you a little.
[ Which is a little bit too close to some kind of confession for him to deal with right now, so instead he presses closer, letting one hand rest against the side of the tree, leaning in so their noses brush. His cheeks are definitely a soft pink, and he feels moderately embarrassed, but he wants this. It can't be more embarrassing than grinding against each other in the mud.
[ Oh. This is all very sweet, strangely and confusingly so. Verso chooses to ignore the odd comment about caretaking, the affection in Gustave's expression; he catalogs it, files it away for examination once he has blood flowing through the thinking parts of him again. Gustave's facial hair tickles his jaw, and he can feel the heat coming off of his face. It's gentle. Surprisingly intimate for a hookup in the woods. He wonders if this is how Gustave prefers it, or if he just doesn't know any other way. ]
It's a good start, [ he teases, fingers curling in Gustave's jacket so that he can maneuver them around until it's Gustave being pressed up against the tree instead. 'Shoved', like he'd said, for some given value of the word; more playful roughhousing than anything else, nothing truly forceful. He doesn't want to scare Gustave off. ]
I had something more like this in mind.
[ He doesn't know what to do with that sweetness, doesn't know how to be sweet back. Historically, this is about the time when he'd start unbuckling someone's belt—not a lot of time for foreplay when you're fucking in the wilderness—but perhaps that might be pushing too far too soon. Instead, he leans in to press his mouth to Gustave's neck, half teeth.
Despite all the projected confidence, he still follows it up with, ] Is that okay?
[ It is unfortunately very hard for him to break away from the instinct to be sweet and almost gentle, even if he gets the impression that isn't what Verso wants. Gustave has his heart on his sleeve and he cares deeply for the people around him, and Verso has fallen into that group by proxy and dedication. He owes him his life, and even if he didn't he would still feel utterly tender about it.
Twisted, pressed back against the tree, he laughs hoarsely, shaking his head with an alarming amount of fondness. ]
This is fine.
[ Tilting his neck, he groans softly, his fingers rising. One hand slides into Verso's hair, unable to resist, and he makes a soft, pleased little sound. ]
Do - do whatever you like. [ He's game. He's so game. Verso is so hot, and handsome, and pretty and also has an nice dick, so he's down to make a fool out of himself. ]
[ Who gave this loser dork the right to be this sexy? He's still struggling with it, honestly, the way that in the span of a bath Gustave went from sure, this might as well happen to someone that he finds genuinely desirable. It's the little sounds he makes, the way he's gentle and pliant but still very much an enthusiastic participant. And, if he's being honest, it's probably the taboo, too. The fact that he shouldn't be doing this unfortunately makes doing it that much more appealing. ]
I think you're giving me far too much leeway.
[ He could be a degenerate freak who's into all sorts of depraved shit. Ha, ha. Wouldn't that be funny. Anyway: ]
[ Not that Gustave is complaining, or he means it as a complaint, or anything along those lines. The people pleaser in him is desperate to do something to make Verso so good, so that they can do this more and more in the future. He's keen to do anything that makes Verso make those pretty noises, too, which is...
He shivers, just a little.
Verso sounded good, last time. His cheeks are definitely hot now.
Breathing out, he tilts his head up, leaning in and demanding the attention. ]
[ Kissing, again. Another thing that's throwing him for a loop. There'd been very little kissing involved after Julie, at least above the neck; it's difficult not to feel like that's a bit too intimate for whatever this is, but— he had said whatever Gustave liked, and clearly this is what he likes. A small twist in his stomach says that this is what Gustave likes because it's what he's supposed to be doing, having normal encounters with normal people who aren't too emotionally constipated to feel comfortable doing something as innocent as kissing, but he shoves the thought down and leans in to press a clumsy kiss to Gustave's mouth.
It's a lot more gentle and hesitant than might be expected of someone who's just shoved him against a tree trunk. A little clumsy still, albeit improved from last time. Self-conscious at the fact that his lips are a little dry, his tongue darts out to wet them before another soft press to Gustave's mouth, and— the hair of Gustave's beard tickles his cheek. He laughs involuntarily. ]
Sorry, [ he mumbles. ] The, uh, facial hair is— a new experience.
[ Gustave can tell how strange this must be to Verso.
The way he reacts, the hesitancy, the edge of something about their intimacy strikes him, but he doesn't want to spook him by bringing it up. It feels foolish to, when they're enjoying what is happening in the here and now, with no need to rock the boat or make this more than it has to be. Gustave is too aware that he's a romantic, that he'd read too much into this if he isn't careful, but... He wants this.
He wants him.
He just - can't say it. He won't make a fool of himself again - at least not that way.
Laughing against Verso's mouth, he lets one arm wrap around him, tangling in his hair and scratching at his scalp. ]
It's odd, isn't it? [ Another slow kiss, tugging him closer. ] Not too much of a put-off, I hope?
[ A put-off. No, it's— far from a put-off. It's tickly and a little ridiculous, but it also makes him feel warm all the way up his neck. It's different. New. There's something very exciting about having a novel experience after seventy years of endless repetition. An experience that's all his. Sometimes the memories get muddled, and he can't tell what he actually did and what was Verso, but this, he can be certain, isn't a memory he stole. ]
Oh, yeah. I'm extremely offput at the moment.
[ As if demonstrating how very put off he is, his hands find their way to Gustave's belt buckle. He glances down, fingers working diligently and efficiently at it, before he stops himself mid-unclasping. ]
Have you ever— [ Well. Obviously. With him. ] Before the Expedition, [ he corrects. ...There's no non-cringe way to say this— ] Did you ever, uh, take any baths with other men?
[ Probably a question he should have asked before the first time. ]
[ That, at least, makes him laugh, a sharp little snort of a sound. ]
I'll just head back to camp, if that's the case...
[ Which is a lie. Obviously. Verso's hands are tugging at his belt, and Gustave is putty in his hands, watching and waiting for it to be his turn to reach out, to touch warm skin, to press his mouth to all those places he had been thinking about for too long. His dreams had turned obscene, and it was mortifying.
The question makes him still, though, and he laughs a little again, awkward and low as he leans closer. He'd rather whisper this into the quiet of Verso's neck, but he can make do with being close enough to kiss again. ]
I was with Sophie for, hm. A long time. I thought about it, but... [ Looming death and all. ] I didn't want to hurt anyone else. Back home, I mean - or here.
[ As if being with him and fucking him would hurt Verso, hah. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@unuttered
[ Let it be said that Verso still feels sort of bad about this. It's not, strictly speaking, right. But it's— a moral grey area. Gustave hadn't felt taken advantage of, wants this of his own free will. He's had casual entanglements with Expeditioners before. The only thing that makes this one different is that he let Gustave get stabbed.
Probably a big difference.
But he tries not to think about that as he sits propped up against a tree a few minutes' walk from camp, hair very purposefully tousled and collar artfully rumpled. There's lots of benefits to doing this. Good stress relief. And it certainly wouldn't hurt to solidify Gustave's trust. And he'll never have to deal with the consequences, seeing as how they'll all be consigned to oblivion soon anyway, if he gets his way.
So, he poses attractively against the tree trunk, in a way that he hopes screams 'sexy, but not like I care'. ]
Bonsoir.
IM LAUGHING
This probably isn't a sensible idea, given their proximity and the likelihood of their incoming death, but that makes him feel as if there's all the more reason to do it. He's already almost died once, so it's not that far away, not a foreign concept, and if he's going to die in this fight he'd rather die having had a little bit of fun. That's what niggles in the back of his mind, pressuring him gently.
Plus, he likes Verso. Thinks he's fine, and handsome, and funny, and unfortunately quite charming. It makes it easier.
Shaking his head, he puts the plate of food down on a nearby rock, his lips curling ever so gently. ]
Bonsoir, mon ami. [ He looks so effortlessly sexy it's actually pissing Gustave off a little bit, but in a way that makes him want to be equally sexy. ] Did you want to eat now?
no subject
Not really, honestly. Sure, he's a little hungry, but the pangs of a skipped meal are just background noise now that he's worked himself up in excitement for getting to touch another human person for a second time in years. It's selfish, but he wouldn't mind if he walked headfirst into oblivion without being incredibly pent-up.
Besides, the last time he'd felt— halting. Uncertain. Worried he was about to dislodge something load-bearing in their group and have the consequences come tumbling down on him. Now that they've discussed it very maturely like adults (with excessive euphemism), he's less concerned about this fucking things up with Gustave and consequently the whole group. Really, the only thing he needs to worry about now is answering for this in the afterlife, and he's relatively confident that Paintings just dissolve into chroma. The point being, this time is going to be even better. ]
...Did you want to eat now?
no subject
[ Not food, anyway, and he already ate the mushrooms.
Leaving the plate where it is, he walks over to where Verso is, so nonchalant and casual despite what they had been talking about just moments before, a soft flush on his cheeks and something like glee thrumming through him. He feels hot all over, and he hopes it translates to a cool, good boy look rather than a flustered moron trying to work his way through this.
Does he just reach out and grab him? Just kiss him? It was a little easier last time, with the warm water and naked skin, though the idea of getting to be the one to strip Verso down is alluring, too.
Breathless, he moves a little closer, eyes dark. ]
Other things on my mind, actually.
no subject
So, this is already a little out of his wheelhouse. He leans back against the tree trunk, the fur of his stupid little cape catching against the bark ridges. ]
Me, too. Can't stop thinking about the other night, actually.
[ There's a teasing lilt in his voice that suggests he is not being entirely serious here, although truthfully, he has played the scene over a few times in his head. He's always thinking about Gustave anyway—it's just that it's usually been a constant refrain of resentment-guilt-jealousy, and now there's. New feelings involved. ]
Big fan of soap.
no subject
Standing in front of Verso now, all he really wants to do is kiss him, and he hesitates for only a moment more until he's walking closer, expression soft. ]
It made you look good. All of you. The, uh, soap.
[ Another step, and then another, and he's slipping into Verso's space, leaning down a little. His smile is an attempt at coy, but he thinks it might come across as more nervous. It was so much easier when they were already naked. ]
I'd like to wash your hair. Next time.
no subject
A teasing gripe: ] My hair's not that greasy.
[ He can sense Gustave's nervousness; Verso feels strangely nervous, too. Maybe it's because it's exceedingly rare to do this with the same person twice, or because it's so uncommon to do it in any way that isn't thoughtless and impulsive. Maybe it's because he knows that it must make him a very, very twisted person to stick his hands down the pants of someone he was willing to watch die.
All of the above sounds good. They can't both be nervous, though, so he tips his chin up, tries to exude a confidence that he doesn't feel. ]
So, [ he says, tone light, ] are you going to shove me up against the tree, or did you want me to do you? Thought I'd be polite and ask first.
no subject
Moving closer, he shakes his head, expression painfully fond. ] Maybe I just want to take care of you a little.
[ Which is a little bit too close to some kind of confession for him to deal with right now, so instead he presses closer, letting one hand rest against the side of the tree, leaning in so their noses brush. His cheeks are definitely a soft pink, and he feels moderately embarrassed, but he wants this. It can't be more embarrassing than grinding against each other in the mud.
Probably.
Leaning up, he laughs softly, kissing his jaw. ]
Will this do?
no subject
It's a good start, [ he teases, fingers curling in Gustave's jacket so that he can maneuver them around until it's Gustave being pressed up against the tree instead. 'Shoved', like he'd said, for some given value of the word; more playful roughhousing than anything else, nothing truly forceful. He doesn't want to scare Gustave off. ]
I had something more like this in mind.
[ He doesn't know what to do with that sweetness, doesn't know how to be sweet back. Historically, this is about the time when he'd start unbuckling someone's belt—not a lot of time for foreplay when you're fucking in the wilderness—but perhaps that might be pushing too far too soon. Instead, he leans in to press his mouth to Gustave's neck, half teeth.
Despite all the projected confidence, he still follows it up with, ] Is that okay?
no subject
Twisted, pressed back against the tree, he laughs hoarsely, shaking his head with an alarming amount of fondness. ]
This is fine.
[ Tilting his neck, he groans softly, his fingers rising. One hand slides into Verso's hair, unable to resist, and he makes a soft, pleased little sound. ]
Do - do whatever you like. [ He's game. He's so game. Verso is so hot, and handsome, and pretty and also has an nice dick, so he's down to make a fool out of himself. ]
no subject
I think you're giving me far too much leeway.
[ He could be a degenerate freak who's into all sorts of depraved shit. Ha, ha. Wouldn't that be funny. Anyway: ]
I'd rather do whatever you like.
no subject
[ Not that Gustave is complaining, or he means it as a complaint, or anything along those lines. The people pleaser in him is desperate to do something to make Verso so good, so that they can do this more and more in the future. He's keen to do anything that makes Verso make those pretty noises, too, which is...
He shivers, just a little.
Verso sounded good, last time. His cheeks are definitely hot now.
Breathing out, he tilts his head up, leaning in and demanding the attention. ]
You can start by kissing me.
no subject
It's a lot more gentle and hesitant than might be expected of someone who's just shoved him against a tree trunk. A little clumsy still, albeit improved from last time. Self-conscious at the fact that his lips are a little dry, his tongue darts out to wet them before another soft press to Gustave's mouth, and— the hair of Gustave's beard tickles his cheek. He laughs involuntarily. ]
Sorry, [ he mumbles. ] The, uh, facial hair is— a new experience.
no subject
The way he reacts, the hesitancy, the edge of something about their intimacy strikes him, but he doesn't want to spook him by bringing it up. It feels foolish to, when they're enjoying what is happening in the here and now, with no need to rock the boat or make this more than it has to be. Gustave is too aware that he's a romantic, that he'd read too much into this if he isn't careful, but... He wants this.
He wants him.
He just - can't say it. He won't make a fool of himself again - at least not that way.
Laughing against Verso's mouth, he lets one arm wrap around him, tangling in his hair and scratching at his scalp. ]
It's odd, isn't it? [ Another slow kiss, tugging him closer. ] Not too much of a put-off, I hope?
[walks into class 2 weeks late with yaoi porn]
Oh, yeah. I'm extremely offput at the moment.
[ As if demonstrating how very put off he is, his hands find their way to Gustave's belt buckle. He glances down, fingers working diligently and efficiently at it, before he stops himself mid-unclasping. ]
Have you ever— [ Well. Obviously. With him. ] Before the Expedition, [ he corrects. ...There's no non-cringe way to say this— ] Did you ever, uh, take any baths with other men?
[ Probably a question he should have asked before the first time. ]
relatable
I'll just head back to camp, if that's the case...
[ Which is a lie. Obviously. Verso's hands are tugging at his belt, and Gustave is putty in his hands, watching and waiting for it to be his turn to reach out, to touch warm skin, to press his mouth to all those places he had been thinking about for too long. His dreams had turned obscene, and it was mortifying.
The question makes him still, though, and he laughs a little again, awkward and low as he leans closer. He'd rather whisper this into the quiet of Verso's neck, but he can make do with being close enough to kiss again. ]
I was with Sophie for, hm. A long time. I thought about it, but... [ Looming death and all. ] I didn't want to hurt anyone else. Back home, I mean - or here.
[ As if being with him and fucking him would hurt Verso, hah. ]