[ 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. ]
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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. ]