[he stops to scrub his hands over his face. no. no, he gets it, or at least he thinks he does: the urge to please and the discomfort that comes with the perceived failure in doing so. why else had Verso continued to paint when his heart lay with music, if not to please?]
I see your point. Would it help if, next time, I put myself in your hands?
[given his caginess around, oh, everything to do with himself, it likely isn't obvious just how much trust he's offering here]
[ he was giving. this generation would find that an entire sentence. anyway, Gustave hesitates a moment before replying, but it's not trepidation he's feeling in the slightest. merely reversing the image of how they ended up last night and trying to decide which is filthier only to decide that, yes, Verso absolutely ragged with debauchery is the solution to all his problems.
or. well. this current problem. ..."problem". ]
Yep, that'll do nicely. I'll treat you with care, I promise.
Unnnless you'd rather I didn't. Whatever you want.
Oh. Well then. He bites the inside of his cheek, a crooked grin threatening to break across his features. This is getting dangerous, but he already knew that—he'd felt it already, the warm fluttering of something he absolutely cannot allow himself to feel, given everything he knows. Everything to come, when they see this mission through.
... one more night can't possibly hurt, right?]
What I want is you, here, showing me those "tricks" of yours.
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trashtalker) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2025-05-22 09:00 pm
3/3 fin.
Gustave. It's not a competition. You're not earning marks based on your performance. You do know that?
no subject
want to give as good as I get, that's all.
I've got my own tricks, but still. Three-going-on-four is a lot. For me. Also in general?
mild spoilers
[he stops to scrub his hands over his face. no. no, he gets it, or at least he thinks he does: the urge to please and the discomfort that comes with the perceived failure in doing so. why else had Verso continued to paint when his heart lay with music, if not to please?]
I see your point. Would it help if, next time, I put myself in your hands?
[given his caginess around, oh, everything to do with himself, it likely isn't obvious just how much trust he's offering here]
no subject
or. well. this current problem. ..."problem". ]
Yep, that'll do nicely. I'll treat you with care, I promise.
Unnnless you'd rather I didn't. Whatever you want.
[ just call 1-800-SERVICETOP ]
no subject
Oh. Well then. He bites the inside of his cheek, a crooked grin threatening to break across his features. This is getting dangerous, but he already knew that—he'd felt it already, the warm fluttering of something he absolutely cannot allow himself to feel, given everything he knows. Everything to come, when they see this mission through.
... one more night can't possibly hurt, right?]
What I want is you, here, showing me those "tricks" of yours.