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Another expedition. Another failure. And Esquie was running low on wine. Never a good combination. Not with the heavy thoughts weighing on his mind.
"A trip to Lumière. What do you say?" His friend gave a whoop of joy, while Monoco snorted and said he would stay behind. "Your loss, mon vieux."
Esquie dropped him off near the farmland towards the north, night beginning to spread over the wheat and rows of grapes not too far in the distance. An earthy, bitter tang settled on his tongue with each breath of the cool air he took and he started forward. Heading for the lively city aglow in the approaching dusk, purpose in his every step.
A thought to how Maelle was doing lingered in the back of his mind. The last time he had been here, she had finally found a place to call her own. The memory bringing with it the appearance of soft brown curls and bright eyes unbidden in his thoughts. As he remembered how excited the man had been to show his not-sister something he had been making. Gesturing wildly while a woman of similar age and similar looks hovered nearby, a fond smile on her face. At odds with her exasperated tone as she called out a reminder that they had an important dinner meeting soon.
It had struck a chord somewhere deep down, heart tightening like a vice in the cage that he had constructed for it. Since then, he had shied away from looking too closely at Maelle's actions. Unwilling to see the reflection of what could have beens and almosts. Every part of him a jagged edge waiting to cut.
"I need a drink," he mumbled under his breath as he picked up the pace. While his intention had been to restock anyway, he needed something in him now.
He caught a whiff of freshly baked bread from that new bakery in town as it prepped for tomorrow morning's rush, another mark of changes that had moved on without him. And he continued onwards, searching, seeking out a place to forget himself.
Laughter and warmth drew him to a bar near the port. He flagged the bartender over with a winning smile draped on like a well-worn mask, asking for an amaretto sour while his eyes took in the quaint scenery around him. Rustic and inviting, a pianist playing a gentle melody in the background. Filled with traces of life - if it wasn't for the man near the end of the bar, drooped over like the world had ended. The same man he had once seen with Maelle.
That drink couldn't find his hand fast enough. He began to turn away, intending to find a quiet corner and listen to the music - but the man locked eyes with him suddenly, blinking with slow, muddled eyes that sharpened on him in an instant. Spotting a kindred soul in a sea of many.
"Heard it's not good to drink alone," the man managed on a heavy tongue, offering up a lopsided smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Too clouded with unshed tears. "Care to join me?"
"Ah." Swallowing, he didn't know what to say to that. His gaze darted to the door and back, leaving the man disappointed even as he nodded his head in understanding. Accepting the inevitable. It bothered him more than the invitation. "Difficult night?"
"Difficult year," corrected the man alongside a self-deprecating laugh. A gesture was made to his arm where a prototype of prothesis had been attached. It hadn't been there the last time, taking the place of a missing piece of himself. "My own fault, really. Difficult results for a difficult man."
"Is that so." Deciding the conversation could be useful after all, to make sure Maelle was safe if nothing else, he took the empty seat next to the man. "Care to share?"
The smile began to reach the man's eyes despite the tremble on his lips. "A bad breakup was the icing on the cake." There was a pause as the man finished his drink, a flutter of eyelashes as he hid those glistening eyes from view. "She ended it. I was too much … or maybe not enough."
"Every story has its end," he offered, unsure what else to say, "perhaps you'll find a new beginning when you least expect it."
"Not looking," scoffed the man. "And I don't usually do this, but …" There was another pause as the man fiddled with his empty glass. "What's your name?"
Oh. It was one of those moods. He was too old for this. "Verso," he hedged, "though I'm not -"
"Verso," repeated the man, voice lowered and gaze piercing as their eyes met again. "Sounds familiar, like something I've heard before …" Words slowly trailed off and then the man sighed. "No, doesn't matter. Gustave, at your service. A pleasure to make your, ah … acquaintance."
"Yeah, nice to … to meet you too." He was much too old for all this. And yet he wasn't walking away. "I would say you've had enough to drink, wouldn't you? Shall we head out, get some fresh air?" He finished his own drink in one go, stomach twisting into knots. "I could use some company."
"Sure!" Gustave abruptly stood and teetered to the side. Their shoulders brushed before the man steadied himself on the bar counter. Face flushed, he darted a quick glance to Verso and then away just as fast. "Sure," he repeated, slower, more careful now, taking his time, "if you'd like."
"I like," he joked, motioning for Gustave to go first. He would follow and make sure he didn't … run into any walls or anything. Maelle would be worried if the man didn't make it home in one piece. "You go on. I'll pay our tab."
Brows furrowed, Gustave mouthed 'our' and then shrugged, mumbling something under his breath. Thankfully the man made it out the door without any issue, and yet the bartender looked thoroughly amused as he accepted Verso's payment, wishing him a heartfelt good luck. Luck, he knew from experience, was never on his side. What had that meant?
Hurrying after Gustave, he spotted the man leaning against a guard rail, staring out at the water. There was a look there that he recognized and didn't like. Too much a mirror of his constantly spinning thoughts. "You okay?" he asked as soon as he was close enough. "Want me to walk you home?"
"No. I would rather … not. Not tonight." Silence lapsed, the evening filled now with the rustle of wind and waves crashing below. Mingling together with the pitter patter of late night travelers here and there as people began to return home. "My sister will remind me what a disappointment I am."
Expression closing off, Verso asked, "That bad?"
"Worse, actually." Another one of those sad laughs, hollow and scratching across Verso's skin like marks in sand. "She's been on my case since the accident. Asking me to rethink everything. Everything that I wish to accomplish."
"Sisters," he conspired with him, leaning across the railing as well. He allowed their shoulders to touch again. Intentional this time, a faint hope it would ground the man and steer the conversation where he wanted it to go. "What can you do? Can't help but love them anyway."
An unimpressed grunt was his answer as Gustave hung his head between his hands. "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Should I ring your sister?" Verso suggested, hand hovering behind the man's back and debating whether to help or not.
"No," was the swift response. "No," he said with a moan to accompany it this time, "I'd like remain a good role model, thank you."
"Oh? A younger sister?" he prodded, allowing curiosity to color his voice. "The way you were talking, I thought she would be older."
Brown eyes peeked towards him in an attempted glare, yet it was not one bit intimidating. Not with the way those eyes shimmered beneath the street lamps. "Two sisters," he pointed out, "and one is more punishing than the other." There was a hint of something dangerous in those eyes now, Gustave studying him like a puzzle. "You don't know who my sisters are, do you," he said it as a statement rather than a question, "now that's strange."
"Stranger than you? No, I'm afraid I'm rather out of touch."
Gustave let it pass, gaze drifting up to the stars. "Never mind, I'm overthinking it."
"A perilous folly, I've heard."
"Quite risky," the man played along, "leads you into all kinds of trouble."
"Funny, trouble's my middle name." Ah, that had slipped out before he thought it through. It had been too long, hadn't it, since he dropped a moment's guard.
"Is it," wondered Gustave as he dropped his eyes to meet his, a lopsided smile in place. "Then would you care to make some trouble with me?" They were too close like this. Verso's gaze went to the lips forming the words rather than what was being said. Did he want to - "A dance, I mean. I could use a distraction." The man gestured to the bar behind them, where they could still hear distant traces of the piano on the wind. "I haven't in so long, but I'd like to stretch my legs tonight."
"Right." Verso offered out his hand, bemused. "Then let's dance."
Gustave huffed a laugh as he accepted, correcting Verso's posture in one fell swoop even as he swayed with the motion. The hand on his hip was firm, an anchor to hold onto as Gustave started a gentle waltz between them, metal nipping at his bone in an almost satisfying way. Enough to hurt but not enough to care. The man didn't seem to notice either, brows furrowed in concentration as he soundlessly counted out the beat.
"Do you dance with just anyone?" he asked right by the man's ear, disrupting their dance, making Gustave miss a step. Verso spun him, fixing them back on the beat as they came back together. A charming smile was in place as he said, "Sorry."
"No you're not," grumbled Gustave as if he could see right through him, "but I suppose I'll give you this one." The man pressed close, breath a whisper on Verso's neck as he asked, "Do you dance with just anyone?"
Throat working but finding no voice, Verso wondered how to answer that. He usually didn't do anything of the sort. He preferred to dance alone, where no one could see. Something for himself, rather than others. "You never answered my question, you know." He raised his eyebrows in askance. "And you expect me to answer yours?"
"Touché," acknowledged Gustave, and then bumped his forehead against Verso's shoulder, their pace slowing. "Ah, getting a bit dizzy. Maybe we could continue … elsewhere?"
That was a bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. "I'd love to see your home too. Lead the way." He would get this strange man home and then flee. As far and as fast as he could.
Gustave gave him a disgruntled look for that as they separated. "They'll be asleep by now, I suppose … all right. Fine. I can give you a tour." It wasn't the most enthusiastic of responses, but it would have to do. And Verso had to admit, he wanted to see where Maelle was staying. If she was safe, if - "… We'll have to be quiet. You do know that, right?"
"Right, of course." Did he not seem trustworthy? It wasn't like he was planning on staying long. Not long enough to make any - Oh. "Do you …?"
"Only if you want to," hurried Gustave, turning away already, face a telling shade of red. "You can follow or not. Doesn't matter to me." Or so he said, wobbling away and convincing no one.
Verso caught his arm without a second thought, tucking it around his. "Let's go."
The manor wasn't as big as the other one he knew, but the garden in front was blooming with life. Color surrounding the path that led to the front door and making it more inviting than any number of hedges and statues could ever hope to replicate. A small, domestic affair that spoke of love for the small things around them. A nice place for his not-sister to reside, away from it all.
"Come in," insisted Gustave, holding the door open for him. "Join me in the parlor first. Your night out was ruined, wasn't it? At least allow me to repay you with a good vintage."
At the promise of wine, Verso followed, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. The manor was near silent, only the crackle of a fire meeting his ears as they settled in the parlor to share a glass or two. It wasn't quite the tour he had been expecting, and yet he could see from every corner of the room how much the place felt like home. Books everywhere, diagrams on the table that Gustave hurried to fold up and put away under more books.
He noticed the cover of one and smiled, venturing to ask, "A fan of trains as well?"
Gustave lit up. "You too?" He held out a glass as promised, filled to the brim. "I admit, I am fascinated by the necessity. It's been decades since there was a need to travel that far, hasn't it. All the same, their inner workings are a great precedent. Something to aspire to."
"Hmm." He sipped at the drink and was pleasantly surprised by the light taste, easy to enjoy and savor. "Oh, this is nice."
"You look like a man who likes it sweet," teased Gustave. "I saw you ordered -"
"Ah, ah, ah. You don't get to make fun of me. Not when you're out here inviting strangers into your house."
Gustave pursed his lips, gaze dropping to his own wine as he spun his fingertips along the rim. "Then … have your drink and leave, if you don't wish to see my room."
"I didn't say that either." As frustrating as this new dance was, it was strangely exhilarating in a way that made him fear for his already questionable motives. "And you owe me more than one drink."
"Then drink away," suggested Gustave, a challenge in the gleam of his eyes. "I've had enough. It's all yours."
"You're sure?" Too good to be true, really. Regardless if he had paid for the man's drinks or not.
"Positive."
With that reassurance, Verso snatched up the bottle that Gustave had bestowed him, plopping down on the arm of the couch as he refilled his glass. "Cheers then!"
Awakening with a splitting headache and a blanket thrown over him, Verso sat up instantly. Horrified to note he was somewhere that he hadn't been last night as he took in his surroundings. A thoroughly lived in room with a bed and a wardrobe, papers stacked on every available surface, and a mirror across from them with a jacket half thrown over the back of it. He looked as bedraggled as he felt from the reflection staring back at him.
This wasn't familiar scenery at all. Where had he - ? Warmth wrapped around his middle as someone's arm encircled him, pulling him close. Blessedly they were both still dressed, albeit their shoes had been kicked off at some point. It was Maelle's new … brother that was hugging him, snuggled up to him like a lover. The sight twisted something in his heart and he was instantly moving, an attempt made to remove the arm from around him.
"Five more minutes," mumbled Gustave against his side, face pressed into the fabric of his white shirt to the point that Verso could feel hot breath through it. "I'm comfortable."
"Gustave," he hissed, finally stirring a response out of the man. Sleepy brown eyes looked up at him, a yawn hidden behind a slowly raised hand. "I need to go. It's morning."
"Morning …" That didn't seem to alarm the man the way Verso was hoping it would. "Ah, yes. You stayed the night. Is there … a need to rush off though? I thought - "
"I need to go," he repeated, urgency bleeding into his words. "I shouldn't be here."
"Verso," that warm hand came back to touch his shoulder, hesitant, but allowing Verso to pull away when he couldn't take it, "are you all right?"
"A mistake," the words slipped out along with his panic. Maelle couldn't see him. That would ruin everything. He had meant to set a limit; he had meant to leave at morning light. But it had been so relaxing to unwind for a change, chatting away about everything and nothing until neither of them could keep their eyes open. Gustave had at some point suggested the guest bedroom, but Verso had followed him to his bedroom instead. Wanting to be close to someone as long as possible. Creating his own problems with every foolish step taken to damnation.
"Ah." Gustave recoiled from him, his hand going to his prosthetic. "Of course. Then allow me to see you out."
"No, that's …" He sucked in a breath and asked, "Is anyone … home?"
Hope burned in those too bright eyes. "Emma has left for work at this hour. And Maelle's already gone to the academy, she never misses a day. It's just us."
"Yeah?" That would make it easier to leave. At any time he chose. He could … He reached out, tracing the curve of the man's cheek and not quite believing he was here. Gustave leaned into it, cupping Verso's hand in his. "I don't …"
"Then don't," suggested Gustave, "but for now - " He closed the distance, a light brush of lips against Verso's. A pressure to the point of sealing them together, Gustave caging him in and keeping him there. "Stop thinking for one second," was the mutter between shared breaths, "focus on me."
It was hard not to focus, enthralled with the image of the man straddling his waist as he worked at the buttons of Verso's shirt. "You don't …"
A waspish glare from Gustave shut him up. "Be quiet, would you?" Then gentling, the man took his face in both hands, one cold to the touch and the other hot, a flicker of fire on his frozen skin. "I think you need this more than I do."
"I don't - "
"Then go. Push me away." A dare. A jest. Neither of them struggling to undo anything. Well, there was one thing Verso did want to undo - and that was the belt around the flattering waistline leading to other things he wanted to touch. "I didn't think so. Here." He guided Verso's hand to his backside, giving it a playful squeeze. "Be honest, hm. You want to forget for a bit too, don't you?"
"Weight of the world and all that," he admitted, lowering his eyes to Gustave's lips and wondering how much he would hate it if he kissed him again. "We don't have to worry about being quiet?"
"Huh -" was the near gasp as Verso flipped them, pinning Gustave to the bed. "Er, no. I … we can be as loud as we want."
Grinning, Verso bent down to nibble at his ear, ghosting words across the shell of it as he asked, "And how loud can you be?"
Turning scarlet, Gustave pulled his head to the side and exposed his neck in the process. A mumbled, "Very," was the last straw for any feigned restraint. Unwilling to hold back when there was no reason. A chance to drop his defenses with perhaps the one person that saw through him without even knowing it. And he would leave his mark upon that unblemished skin, staining the man in his colors.