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Verso has a problem he’s not sure how to fix.
It all started several weeks ago when the Lumière council decided to reopen the university. It’s been six months since Expedition 33 defeated the Paintress and the real Renoir, with Maelle having brought everyone back as well. Now that the future of the city was secured, and people didn’t have to go into apprenticeships right away out of necessity, the council found it a good option to offer further education for all ages.
Thus, experts in various fields were recruited to join as lecturers and instructors. Verso himself had been asked to join the music faculty of the school of the Arts - an offer he readily accepted - but he was much more elated when Gustave was asked to be Head of Engineering.
As flattered as he was, Gustave had declined at first, saying that he was alright with just being a regular member of the teaching staff and did not deserve such a high post. But Verso - along with several of their friends including Lune and Sciel who were offered positions as well - reminded him of his work on the shield dome, and most crucially, the Lumina Converter, his invention that was a major factor in helping Expedition 33 succeed when all those before them had failed.
It didn’t take much after that for Gustave to accept, and Verso was beyond proud of him. In turn, Gustave was incredibly happy for him too for getting to pursue his true passion. That was a long night of joyous and tiring celebration for them both.
When Gustave invited him to sit in on his first ever lecture, Verso quickly agreed, excited to watch his smart boyfriend show off his skill and expertise. But when the day came and Verso walked into the lecture hall, that was when the problem started.
Because… well… Gustave was wearing glasses.
In the time they’ve been together, Verso had never known he wore them, or that he needed them in the first place. To see him wearing them now, along with that lovely blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up past the forearms and a pair of nice fitting black pants, both of which Verso got tailor-made for him for this special occasion… Verso was hard in seconds.
Thankfully, he had sat right at the back of the hall, but those two hours were basically torture, watching Gustave teach with confidence and passion, being all handsome and intelligent and sexy as hell with those damn glasses. By some miracle, Verso managed to calm himself down by the end of it, and when Gustave asked him what he thought, he managed to speak without sounding all flustered. “You were fantastic.”
Then Gustave gave him such a big smile with those lovely brown eyes so beautifully framed by the glasses that Verso was feeling hot all over again. Thankfully, he had on a long enough coat, and Gustave was none the wiser.
That night, Verso barely lasted a minute, coming so hard into his hand that he was winded.
At first, Verso thought it was just a one-off occurrence. Maybe it was just a combination of the surprise of seeing Gustave with glasses, a bit of possessiveness over him being in something Verso got for him, and the joy of watching him in his element, where he got to prove why he’s the best damn engineer in all of Lumière.
He soon found out how wrong he was when, during a lunch break a couple of days later, he decided to visit Gustave in his office. After opening the door, Verso was greeted by the sight of Gustave in just a simple sweater as he was hunched over some blueprints on his desk. But then he glanced up, and when Verso saw those glasses on his face again, the heat immediately started pooling in his groin.
Before Gustave could notice, Verso sat down and crossed his legs, but just like before, trying to maintain his composure was a torment, especially now that he was directly across from the man. Luckily, his lunch break was only so long, so he excused himself after a while and left before Gustave could ask him why he was being all fidgety.
This happened several more times over that week and the next. Didn’t matter where or when or what he was wearing - at his apartment, in his office, on a date once when he put them on to read the menu - just the sight of Gustave with his glasses was enough to turn Verso on instantly, making him feel like a horny teenager who got aroused by the slightest thing (considering that he never really was a teenager, he can’t help but think that it’s as if the world of the canvas is paying back his lack of experience).
He’s not even sure why he feels this way. The glasses themselves aren’t particularly unique, just two circular lenses and a simple wire frame. He’s also met plenty of people who wear something similar, but he’s never had this kind of a reaction. Neither does he have a thing for educators; he has the real Verso’s memories of various teachers and professors, some of them certainly good-looking but never piquing his interest like this. So, what is it? Is it truly just because it’s Gustave? But then again, he’s been deeply attracted to Gustave since the beginning - they are in a relationship after all - so how can a simple pair of glasses increase that already strong attraction tenfold?
Whatever the case may be, Verso is unable to stop himself from feeling embarrassed over such an involuntary physical reaction that he ends up making more and more excuses to not meet up with Gustave; even in the times that they do spend together, he doesn’t stick around for long. The last thing he wants is for his boyfriend to think he’s some sort of sex fiend, so he’s hoping that he can solve this problem before it becomes a permanent issue, thinking that some time away might help calm him down a bit.
It all comes to a head when he finds a note at his desk one day. “Meet me in my office once classes are over,” it says, and he recognises the handwriting immediately. Not only that, but with how neat and straight the letters are, he can also tell that Gustave is mad.
Putain, he curses, because of course, he should have known that running away is probably the least effective solution there is.
The rest of the day is spent in quiet dread as he tries to think of what he’s going to say to Gustave. He tries to push through, but even his own students can tell that his mind is preoccupied with something else which only makes everything feel a little worse. So, when his final lesson is over, it’s with heavy footsteps that he heads over to the Engineering floor and to Gustave’s office.
A deep breath, then two knocks on the door. “Come in,” is the reply, serious in a way Verso has never heard before.
Opening the door, he finds Gustave by his desk - not sitting, but in front of and leaning back against it while his arms are crossed across that same blue shirt. Eyebrows are noticeably deeply furrowed above those damned glasses, and the brown eyes framed by them are narrowed in a full glare.
Verso is too afraid to be turned on. Or maybe he’s feeling both but is too confused by the conflicting emotions to really understand.
“Shut the door,” Gustave says, steady, firm, controlled. Verso follows the instruction without hesitation. At this moment, he feels less like a colleague to Gustave and more like a student about to be punished by his professor. There are but scant and distant memories belonging to the real Verso of such a situation, a star pupil as he tended to be with such high expectations from his parents, so Verso knows that he’s in completely new territory.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Not a question, but a statement said with thinly veiled frustration.
Verso takes a cautionary step forward. “I can explain.” But when Gustave raises an eyebrow at him as a sign to continue, Verso finds that he can’t. How can he, when the reason for his recent behaviour is so absurd?
So, he just stands there like an idiot while Gustave continues staring at him, the air oppressive with this thick silence. He can’t even meet Gustave’s eyes. Like a coward.
After several uncomfortably long seconds, Gustave finally sighs. “If this is your way of breaking up with me, I would rather you just tell me and get it over and done with.”
“What?” Verso turns to him so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. When he looks at Gustave, he notices some of the tension has left his body, but only because it’s deflated with uneasiness. Immediately, Verso rushes over until he’s right in front of Gustave. “That’s not it at all!”
“Then what is it?” His voice is steady, but those beautiful brown eyes are filled with so much distress that Verso wants to smack himself. Gustave has likely been trying nonstop to think of why his boyfriend could possibly be acting this way, and it’s more than understandable that he’s come to such a conclusion - with the limited information he had, it’s a completely logical assumption to make. No wonder he’s so upset.
I’ve been a fool, Verso thinks. A damned, selfish fool. All this time he was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he failed to think about the impact it could have had on Gustave. Their relationship started with a promise of honesty, and yet here he is evading the truth like he’s the Verso of the past.
“Mon cœur, please forgive me.” He takes Gustave’s flesh hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I’ve been acting this way because I was ashamed of how I feel about something new about you.”
Gustave’s expression softens, the anguish now replaced by confusion. “What do you mean?”
As much as he wants to say it, he is still so embarrassed that the sentence comes out as barely more than a mumble. “... It’s your glasses.”
“My glasses? What, do you not like them?”
“No!” Verso exclaims a little too loudly, frantic to clear up this misunderstanding once and for all. He then clears his throat with a cough, his entire face far too warm as he says, “It’s the exact opposite, actually. I… like them too much.”
“Oh… Oh.” Gustave’s eyes widen in surprise before slowly, subtly darkening. The smallest of smirks tugs at the corner of his mouth as he reaches up to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. This single action is far too enticing, and being so close, Verso’s reaction is practically instantaneous, heartbeat speeding up and sending a rush of blood to his lower body. His cock is already half-hard, and there’s no doubt that Gustave can feel the growing bulge against his own crotch.
“You really do like them, huh?” Gustave asks, the smirk now a full teasing grin. Despite blushing even harder now, Verso makes no attempt to move away, especially because Gustave shows no signs of repulsion towards this revelation. “But I still don’t understand why though.”
“I’m not sure either, but what I do know is that they make you look even hotter than usual,” Verso says without hesitation, deciding at this point to just be fully honest. “Like a sexy professor.”
A lovely flush grows across Gustave’s cheeks, as does an expression Verso is familiar with, one he recognises as a sign that Gustave has come up with an idea that he intends to carry out. This time however, there’s also a devious glint in his eyes, and accompanied with such a cheeky look, Verso is already mentally preparing for what’s to come.
But nothing could have prepared him for when Gustave says, “In that case, what should we do about all your absences, Mr Dessendre?”
The use of his last name short-circuits Verso’s brain. “What?”
“You heard me.” Gustave’s entire face changes, taking on a sultry edge Verso has never seen before. “I’ve barely seen you at all, don’t you think you should do something to make up for everything you’ve missed?”
Verso blinks dumbly at him for a few seconds before the realisation of what Gustave is proposing finally hits him, and when it does, it’s like a volcano has erupted inside him, lava in his veins the way he feels incredibly warm all over. Is he actually…? Verso swallows thickly, a part of him still not sure if he’s reading this right. Hesitantly, but also way too exhilarated by the idea of what’s about to happen, he says, “I should, and I’m willing to do anything.”
“Hmm, I should punish you,” Gustave hums, the words so suggestive that they make Verso impossibly harder, his erection straining painfully in his pants. It doesn’t help that Gustave also moves in closer, pressing the entire front of their bodies against each other. “But since you owned up to your mistake, I’ll be nice. How about you prove to me that you’ve been paying attention to what I’ve taught you? If you satisfy me, I’ll let you off the hook. How does that sound?”
So overwhelmed by this sudden side of Gustave, Verso can only nod, shuddering when Gustave grins at him predatorially. “I knew you’d like this suggestion. So, to start,” he reaches up to swipe a thumb over Verso’s lower lip, eyes growing dark as he pulls down on it. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve learnt with this charming mouth of yours?”
Verso doesn’t keep him waiting. He slides down until he’s on his knees, face level with Gustave’s crotch. Hands shaking from how eager he is, he undoes the buttons of Gustave’s pants just enough to reveal his briefs and its distinct bulge. He reaches in, wrapping a hand around and pulling out Gustave’s cock.
Having spent almost the whole of last week away from his boyfriend and only imagining him in his fantasies, Verso cannot stop his mouth from watering as he gives Gustave’s hard length a few firm strokes, feeling the man’s eyes on him the entire time.
A drop of pre-cum beads up on the tip, and Verso darts his tongue out to catch it. A pleased sigh reaches his ears, but it’s not enough. He’s not doing enough, so he takes the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. A few gasps now, but he knows he can do better than that. Grabbing the back of Gustave’s thighs for support, he goes down all the way until his nose is pressed into the dark hairs at the base of Gustave’s cock. When he swallows around it, this produces the exact moan he wanted to hear.
He starts bobbing his head, working Gustave’s cock with his mouth in all the ways he knows he likes it. In the six months they’ve been together, Verso has pretty much memorised every single thing about Gustave’s body - all the places that he likes to be licked, kissed, bitten, squeezed, held. All that work (if he can even really call it that - it felt natural for him to do it, because pleasing Gustave is what gives him pleasure in turn) is paying off, because the breathing is only getting louder and heavier. But even as focused as he is on sucking Gustave’s cock, he can still tell that Gustave seems to be holding back, as if on purpose.
Oh, Verso realises, the memorisation is starting to backfire because I’m just repeating what I’ve been doing for the past months. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, he’s still doing a good job of it - as evidenced by the reactions he’s eliciting - but he hasn’t proven to Gustave that he’s truly understood what makes him tick.
Quickly flicking his gaze up, he sees Gustave’s flesh hand gripping hard at the edge of the desk, knuckles white.
With a new idea of what to do, Verso reaches for Gustave’s metal hand which is also on the desk and pulls it to rest on the back of his head. For a while, the metal fingers just rest there as he continues moving. Then, there’s a firm, experimental tug on his hair. “Nice to see you taking the initiative, Mr Dessendre. I assume you want me to fuck your throat?”
Despite only sounding mildly surprised, Gustave clearly wants it just as bad if not more, the question more of a confirmation of permission. Verso hums a noise of agreement around Gustave’s cock and digs his nails into Gustave’s thighs, the sensations making the man moan a little before he schools his face back into one of mild interest.
“Very well then, let’s see how well you take me,” Gustave says, almost sounding bored in the ways teachers do when reviewing yet another student’s work. But the aroused strain in his voice is a giveaway that Gustave is absolutely thrilled to do this, also proven when the metal fingers pull hard on Verso’s hair, forcing him to stop. They’ve done this a handful of times, but Gustave has always been a lot gentler (at least in the beginning). Now, Verso has only just enough time to brace himself when Gustave drives his cock right to the back of Verso’s throat with a snap of his hips.
Verso gags at the initial suddenness of it, but he very quickly relaxes, closing his eyes as he loses himself in the way Gustave thrusts into his mouth over and over again, as he’s being used as nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. Verso is painfully hard at this point, but still, he doesn’t touch himself, keeping his hands right where they are on Gustave’s thighs and pulling on them, urging him to go faster and deeper.
“Look at you, so greedy for me. You must have been waiting for this for so long, haven’t you?” Gustave asks, his heavy breathing only making him sound sexier. “Merde, that’s it, keep your mouth open just like that… Good boy.”
The two words are a shock to Verso’s system. He’s hit with a wave of arousal so strong that he shudders, feeling himself beginning to leak pre-cum into his own briefs as he moans around Gustave’s cock. When he glances up, he finds Gustave looking down at him with brown eyes fully blown with lust, emphasised by the glasses that frame them.
With that hungry grin on his face again, Gustave asks, “You like being my good boy, Mr Dessendre?”
Verso nods, moaning wantonly once more, knowing that Gustave is going to exploit this new discovery for all its worth. Verso wants him to, wants him to know how good he can be for him, wants to be so good that nothing and no else will do but him.
While Verso’s head is spinning from everything that’s happening, Gustave sounds for all the world unfazed, so in control in keeping up this act despite how much he’s clearly enjoying every second of it. “But do you think you’ve been good enough for me to come down your throat?”
Flashing in his mind are the vivid memories of all the previous times he’s gone down on Gustave, of the taste of Gustave’s cum on his tongue as he swallows it all down. He wants it again so damn badly, and yet, he shakes his head. He’s barely proven to Gustave how good he can be; he doesn’t deserve such a reward.
“Exactly. Good to see you showing some awareness,” Gustave says, the reprimanding edge to his words making Verso helplessly whine at this self-inflicted denial.
Then, after a few more hard thrusts that have Verso almost choking, Gustave abruptly stops. A hand on his cock, he slowly pulls out. The metal hand that is in Verso’s hair tugs, forcing him to tilt his head back.
Verso can only imagine what a mess he must look like with his mouth wide open, drool running down the corner of his lips as Gustave taps the head of his cock against his tongue. However, as he glances up through his lashes, he only finds Gustave smiling down at him with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.
“What a sight you are.” Gustave exhales a lustful sigh. “How gorgeous you look on your knees for me.” He glances down then, raising an eyebrow when he catches sight of something. “And what’s this? You didn’t touch yourself?”
With the tip of his leather shoe, he presses up against Verso’s crotch. Not too hard, but just firm enough to cause Verso to whimper as he has to resist the urge to rut against it, to seek the contact he’s deprived himself of. “No,” he gasps out. “You didn’t say that I could.”
“How obedient,” Gustave purrs, and Verso shivers at the praise. “Then I’m sure you can wait a little while longer, yes?”
Verso chokes back a whine and nods again, sighing in relief when Gustave moves his foot away. “Good,” Gustave says, “And since I’m done assessing your mouth, it’s time to move on to your fingers.”
He starts pushing his pants and briefs all the way off, and Verso takes but a second to help him, including pulling off his shoes and socks. For some reason, Verso is compelled to fold the clothes and put them all neatly onto one of the armchairs close by. When he turns back around, Gustave is watching him with a soft smile, a fondness that has broken through the act.
“How gentlemanly of you,” Gustave says rather affectionately, but it is just for a moment. His expression quickly transforms back into the controlled yet seductive one from before. “Now come here.”
As he says this, he pushes himself up onto the desk, sitting right at the edge, an act which only serves to further emphasise the contrast between his still clothed upper half and his completely naked lower half. He leans back while spreading his legs wide open, exposing not only his lovely saliva-slick cock but also offering a tantalising glimpse of his hole. Even without Gustave’s command, such an inviting sight would have drawn Verso over anyway.
He goes, situating himself comfortably between Gustave’s open legs. However, just as he’s about to finally put his hand on Gustave’s bare skin, he realises he’s missing something. But before he can even ask, Gustave is quick to reply. “There’s no lube, but I’m sure you know how to improvise, yes?”
The most obvious answer is to use his spit on his fingers. And yet, Verso doesn’t even consider the latter part of that equation. Instead, so focused is his on the former as well as the way Gustave has so lewdly splayed himself open that all can think to do is to drop back down to his knees, hold Gustave’s thighs open and lick a broad stripe over his hole.
Though they’ve discussed it, they’ve never actually done this before - Verso figures this is the perfect opportunity to try it, to gauge Gustave’s receptivity to such an act.
And judging by the melodious gasp that escapes Gustave’s lips, followed by another louder one when Verso repeats this action, he is very receptive. Like earlier, the act slips away for a brief moment, this time revealing surprise and excitement and desire. Verso revels in it, using this chance to say, “Is this what you meant by improvising… Sir?”
A soft whine, a shiver, and then the control returns. “Not what I had in mind but… you may carry on,” Gustave says, and though the expression on his face is something that could be described as an aroused scowl, his eyes are dark and voracious, revealing his true desires.
Verso tries but mostly fails to hide his grin. “Will I get extra points for creativity?”
“Hmm, that depends.” A hand goes to card through Verso’s hair again, massaging his scalp. “How hard do you think you can make me come?”
Gustave has a brow arched in such a tempting, teasing way, obviously daring him to do it. Verso immediately takes up the challenge, wanting nothing more than to prove himself, to show that he can in fact please him thoroughly this way. So he begins in earnest, giving one last lick before prodding, then pushing into Gustave with his tongue.
And fuck, what a reaction that garners. Gustave moans, long and loud, as the grip he has in Verso’s hair tightens, holding Verso there. Not that Verso wants to leave, hands reaching up to Gustave’s thighs, digging his fingers into them to keep them apart so that he can get unfettered access to Gustave’s hole, alternating back and forth between licking around and licking up into this most intimate of places. The scent, the taste is so divine, Gustave’s natural musk that he just inhales; so focused is he on getting more and pleasing Gustave that he forgets his own erection that is aching in his pants. He forgets too any sense of decorum - so liberal in using his saliva that he feels himself drooling again, eating out Gustave like a man starved.
Because he is. Aside from how he’s stayed away these past weeks, the depths of his desire for Gustave knows no bounds. Even when they are together in moments like these, Verso can never get enough.
Thankfully, Gustave is willing to give as much as he takes.
Suddenly, the tension on Verso’s hair disappears. Verso pulls away then, finding Gustave using that hand to now hold his cock and balls to the side in order to properly watch what Verso is doing.
Wanting to give this private audience member the show he deserves, Verso maintains eye contact as delves back in to give a long, slow lick. A wave of satisfaction rushes through him as he sees Gustave’s face flush fully red. “You’re very good at this, Mr Dessendre,” Gustave says, breathing heavily, sounding right on the edge. “Who taught you?”
It’s subtle, but Verso hears it: jealousy.
Verso presses a wet kiss to Gustave’s left inner thigh. “No one,” he says, because it’s the truth. He’s never done this with anyone else before; never wanted to do it with anyone, not until Gustave. “I learnt how to do it by myself… for you.”
The hunger in those brown eyes deepens, sending another shock of arousal through Verso. To realise that Gustave is secretively possessive of him is like a shot of ecstasy right into his veins. It is affirming too, because Verso knows that he’s already given himself over so completely to Gustave, that no one else could ever compare or compete.
And because he is Gustave’s, he wants nothing more than to prove it by making him come so hard that every other past experience he’s ever had is forgotten about. So, he spits onto his fingers, then brushes them over Gustave’s hole, watching it twitch under his touch before slowly pressing two of them in. The heat enveloping his fingers and Gustave’s intense gaze on him have him buzzing. “However, this-” he says as he bends his fingers to press them up against that special bundle of nerves, “-is something I learnt from you.”
A full body shudder takes over Gustave as he bites back a moan. “I know,” he rasps, eyes sparkling behind those glasses. “I could tell those fingers of yours had picked something up from all that piano playing.”
Suddenly, Verso recalls all the times Gustave has watched him play, including the very first time back on the Continent during the expedition. Now, those memories become lewdly warped as Verso now imagines what it would be like to bend Gustave over the keys and take him apart, to use deft fingers to get him to produce the sweetest sounds. Verso wonders if Gustave would be up for that next, either with the piano he has in his classroom or the one in his apartment.
But for now, Verso focuses on making one part of that fantasy a reality. He pumps his fingers in and out of Gustave, crooking his fingers every so often to press against that particular spot. This produces a non-stop slew of soft noises and trembles from Gustave, and yet, when Verso next looks up, he finds a look akin to boredom on Gustave’s face.
“Is that all you can do?” Gustave hums in disappointment. “I was expecting more from you, Mr Dessendre. You’re so talented; why am I not seeing any of it?”
There’s a distinct glint in those brown eyes - Gustave is clearly taunting him.
Not wanting to let his boyfriend down, Verso takes the bait. If it’s more that he wants, then more he shall get.
Simultaneously, he does three things: first, he presses another finger into Gustave; second, watching the way Gustave’s hole takes the additional digit in so readily has him surge forward to lick around the ring of stretched muscle. Lastly, he reaches for Gustave’s cock with his other hand, wrapping around it and stroking it in time to the movement of his fingers.
It is a feat of multitasking that Verso is more than happy to take up, one which is also very quickly and clearly appreciated, because Gustave’s hand is back in his hair again, pulling on them as the noises that escape him get louder and more breathless. Before long, there are the tell-tale signs of Gustave’s impending climax: the panting, the quivering, the glassy look in those brown eyes.
Verso doubles down on his efforts, working Gustave with everything he’s got. A kind of ferocity is burning through his very being, wanting so fucking badly to feel Gustave come around his fingers and tongue.
About a minute later, he gets his wish.
With one last press of his fingers to that bundle of nerves, he pulls back just in time to watch Gustave groan as the tremors of pleasure over take him. Verso continues to finger and stroke him through it, angling his cock in such a way that the cum doesn’t stain his shirt, spilling onto Verso’s hand instead.
And the entire time, Gustave is looking at him through those glasses, the frames of which only make his flushed face that much more ravishing in the throes of ecstasy.
“How was that?” Verso asks once Gustave has settled down, more desperate than smug to know if he’s done enough.
The hand that is in his hair now goes to cup the side of his face, a display of tenderness that Verso wasn’t expecting. “Very good,” Gustave sighs, sounding thoroughly pleased. His eyes dart to Verso’s hand around his softening cock. “And very thoughtful of you. I wouldn’t have wanted to get this shirt dirty; it was a gift from someone very dear to me.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Verso allows himself to smirk, already vividly imagining how Gustave would look like having come all over himself while in the clothes he bought for him. It feeds the hungry beast stirring inside him, and because he demands more, he continues. “As I’m sure he wouldn’t want this to go to waste.” He pulls out the fingers he has in Gustave and replaces them with his cum-coated ones, pressing them deep inside.
An overstimulated but pleased moan rumbles out of Gustave’s throat. “Do you want to fuck me using my own cum, Mr Dessendre?”
Usually, Gustave is the more reserved out of the two of them when it comes to sex, with dirty talk more of Verso’s specialty (something definitely helped by how easily he can turn Gustave on using his voice). So, to hear Gustave now be so unabashedly crude and direct does despicable things to Verso’s insides, pushing him even further to the edge that he has been clinging onto to avoid coming in his own pants.
Swallowing thickly, Verso says, “If you would allow me to.”
“Of course. I’m strict, not cruel. You’ve proven yourself pretty well after all, and a reward is in order.” Gustave smiles, but before Verso can feel relieved, he adds, “But not yet. You wouldn’t want me to cut short my assessment of your skills, would you?”
Holding back a desperate whine, Verso shakes his head. That greedy grin returns to Gustave’s face. “Good. Now, strip.”
After pulling his fingers away, Verso stands up, hands going to work on unbuttoning his own white shirt. Just as he’s about to reach for the third button, Gustave says, firm, commanding, “Slower.”
Verso obeys as best he can with how he’s almost shaking from arousal, certainly not helped by Gustave’s stare burning into every inch of skin that he reveals. Eventually, he gets all the buttons undone, letting the shirt fall from his body and onto the floor. Then he works on taking off his shoes and socks, pushing them aside before working on his pants. As urgent as he is, he still goes slow, and when he pushes his briefs down as well, he could almost cry from the relief of his cock springing free from its confines. He fights the urge to finally touch, instead kicking the rest of his clothes aside before standing there with his hands behind his back, waiting for Gustave to inspect him.
Gustave’s dark brown eyes rake appreciatively over his naked body, devouring him with that hungry gaze that comes to rest on his cock. “Look at you,” Gustave purrs with a lick of his lips. “You’ve been very patient for my sake, haven’t you?”
“Anything for you, Sir.” The title slips out before Verso can even process it, but he means it this time, no longer saying it just to tease like he did before.
“Good. I won’t keep you waiting any more then.” Gustave pushes himself up a bit more, most likely to get a better view. “Touch yourself.”
And Verso does, though it’s taking every single ounce of willpower he has to go slow, to not just get himself to the finish line that he’s been toeing for far too long. He grips his own cock a little too hard out of desperation, but the tightness and warmth and touch of his fist is such a relief that he doesn’t care, moaning as he strokes himself. Every so often, when he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right, his eyes flutter close, but other than that, he keeps them open, making sure he doesn’t look away from Gustave, whose composed expression and spread-open legs make it even more difficult to stay at this slow pace.
“What are you thinking of?” Gustave asks with a sly smile, proof that he already knows the answer.
“You,” Verso gasps. “Always you.”
Gustave hums approvingly. “Have you imagined me with my glasses?” When Verso nods, he adds, “And what, specifically, have you imagined? Come now, Mr Dessendre, use your words.”
Verso groans, forcing his brain to form sentences. “Fucking your mouth while you stare up at me, then coming onto your face, onto your glasses.”
A noise of aroused interest. “What else?”
“Bending you over this desk, taking you over and over again while you look back at me, your glasses almost falling off your face from how hard I’m fucking you.”
A sharp inhale. “What else?”
Verso closes his eyes, mind overwhelmed. “I’ve thought about what would have happened if I hadn't controlled myself during your first lecture. I would have taken you right there and then in front of everyone, shown them how much I desire you, that you’re m-”
“Mine?” Gustave’s voice is suddenly so much closer, and when Verso opens his eyes, he discovers that it’s because Gustave is now standing in front of him, having walked over when Verso was too focused on verbalising his fantasies to hear him. And fuck, Verso could almost collapse with how even more turned on he is with those framed brown eyes now staring right at him, accompanied by a far too handsome smirk. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you. Do you think you’ve done enough to claim me?”
So stimulated by everything that’s going on, Verso’s brain-to-mouth filter gives up. He rambles, begging, "I have- I’ve been so good so far. Please, be mine. I’m already yours, aren’t I?”
“That’s right,” Gustave whispers, lips just a breath away from Verso’s. “You’re my good boy.”
Verso whimpers, but not just because of Gustave’s words. Cool metal fingers gently push away the hand he had around his cock before wrapping around it themselves, stroking it slowly and firmly.
The touch alone could have made Verso come, but by some miracle, he holds on, standing still - or as still as he can while being so aroused - and resisting the urge to buck into Gustave’s hand too, letting Gustave work his cock how he wants to. After all, Gustave is the one in charge here, and Verso is completely at his mercy.
And if that includes waiting to be allowed to come, Verso is more than willing to teeter on the edge for as long as Gustave wants him to.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still struggle to keep it together when Gustave starts speeding up. A pathetic whine leaves him, but he is far too distracted to be embarrassed. The coil that has been tightening inside him is wound past what he thought he could stand, beyond the usual snapping point.
“Are you close?” Gustave asks, voice low with a huskiness to it that Verso has never heard from him before.
“Yes.” Even though it’s one syllable, Verso is not even sure he says it right, more of a very desperate gasp than an actual word.
Gustave leans in, putting his lips to Verso’s ear. “Come for me.”
Finally, Verso lets himself topple over the edge and into the abyss below.
It’s like a switch has been flipped, the release of pressure and tension so sudden and so intense that Verso blanks out when he comes. In those few seconds, all Verso is vaguely aware of are his own breathless moans, Gustave’s hand around his cock, and the surge of pure bliss that is rushing through every part of his body.
The tingling sensation that accompanies the aftershocks are new but satisfying, and it’s this that slowly brings him back to himself. Panting, blinking, he’s surprised to find that his knees haven’t given way. He’s still standing, as is Gustave in front of him with a pleased grin.
Then, before Verso can even begin to fully recover from this intense orgasm, Gustave lifts his cum-stained metal hand up to his mouth and begins to lick it clean.
“Fuck,” Verso says with a shuddering breath. Despite still aching from waiting so long and coming so hard, such a depraved sight is causing his spent cock to already twitch with renewed interest.
Spurred on by this, Gustave continues to clean his hand, lapping up Verso’s cum like it’s the tastiest thing he’s eaten all day. Verso focuses on one streak of cum in particular, on the way it stands in contrast to the black metal, the way Gustave’s tongue moves from the knuckle to the fingertip to lick it up in one smooth movement. Of course, Verso can only watch all this in stunned and aroused silence, rendered speechless by this filthy sight before him and also not wanting to accidentally say something that might interrupt it.
Similarly, Gustave says nothing either, not until he’s done. With one final swipe of his tongue across the back of his palm, he grins deviously at Verso. “Well, that was certainly a lot, but I hope you’re not tired yet.”
An implicit demand, one that Verso is more than willing and able to obey. Quickly pulling himself out of his post-orgasm daze, he shakes his head vehemently, still struggling to find his words. Gustave’s smile grows wider as he leans in, and, expecting a kiss, Verso does the same.
Only it never comes, because Gustave puts a hand to Verso’s chest, holding him at bay, keeping him a short but still torturous distance away. “Good, because this assessment is far from over.”
“Where do you want me, sir?” Verso is fully into this act now, so into this role that he doesn’t even think about what he's saying, only knowing that he’s eagerly awaiting Gustave’s next instruction.
Such enthusiasm is not lost on Gustave, who moves that hand up to cup his jaw tenderly, almost affectionately, incongruous to his next words. “Clear my desk and lie down on it.”
Verso goes to do just that, and though he initially wants to move everything off of the desk with one dramatic sweep, he decides against it, knowing that Gustave wouldn’t appreciate the mess that would cause. Instead, he carefully puts the things aside, using this time to allow his body to recuperate and prepare for whatever Gustave has in store for him next.
Once everything is cleared, Verso gets on, the polished wood nice and cool against his back. Then, he turns his head to the side just in time to see Gustave take off his shirt, folding it and placing it with the rest of his clothes where Verso had left them earlier. As he bends down, Verso is treated to the delicious view of his ass, its nice curve making Verso’s mouth water from how much he wants to take a bite.
Gustave turns around, and Verso is presented with the breathtaking sight of him fully naked… except for his glasses. This alone is enough for Verso to feel re-energised, but really, it’s the fact that Gustave’s body is now on full display for him to openly ogle at.
Noticing this, Gustave asks, “Care to share what’s on your mind, Mr Dessendre?”
Verso does a very deliberate once-over of Gustave, from head to toe and then back up again. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
A slight blush grows across Gustave’s cheeks, his true feelings over such a compliment just peeking through. However, he doesn’t let this affect him as he says, “Such flattery is only going to make me go harder on you, is that what you want?”
Verso just looks straight into Gustave’s eyes. He does not need to answer, because that is exactly what he wants.
Gustave swallows as he realises. “Very well, in that case…” He walks back over to the desk, and in one smooth - and very provocative - move, he climbs onto the desk and straddles Verso’s lap.
Before Verso can even process how hot Gustave looks from this angle - one that he’s seen in all the previous times they’ve been in these positions, albeit in bed - and how good it feels to finally have Gustave’s body against his, Gustave says, “You are to keep your hands here.” He takes Verso’s hands and places them on his thighs that are on either side of him “No moving to touch any other part of me; no touching yourself… not until I allow you to. Understood?”
Grabbing onto the lean muscle under his palms, Verso nods, far too turned on by the authority in Gustave’s voice to respond verbally.
“Good, because now it’s finally time to see how well you can satisfy me with just this lovely cock of yours.” With a grin, Gustave wraps his metal hand around both of their lengths and begins stroking them together.
Verso immediately moans at the hot slide of Gustave’s already semi-hard cock against his own sensitive one, and it doesn’t take long before he’s growing hard again too. Like before, he wants so badly to thrust up to seek more friction, but he’s not allowed to, so he settles for gripping Gustave’s thighs harder, letting the man know that it’s too much and that he wants more.
Mercifully, Gustaves gives them both just a few more languid strokes before rising up on his knees to position Verso’s cock at his hole. However, he stays there, waiting, teasing for a few seconds, watching with delight as Verso squirms under him in anticipation. “So needy,” Gustave drawls, smug and satisfied before finally lowering himself onto Verso’s cock, going down all the way until their bodies come into contact once more.
The tight heat instantly has Verso moaning. Gustave moans too, though it is subdued, more of a sigh. With a look of bliss and a lustful smile, he asks, “How does my hole feel around your cock?”
Verso whines, knowing that Gustave wants an actual answer from him. “You feel amazing, Sir. Please move.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.” Metal fingers trail up Verso’s abs and to his right pec, grabbing at the muscle there just hard enough for there to be the slightest pleasurable sting. “But since you asked so nicely…”
With a smirk, Gustave begins lifting himself up then down on Verso’s cock. And what a sight that makes, with his brown curls bouncing in time with his movements, glasses perfectly framing his eyes, his entire body flushed and covered with a light sheen of sweat from the exertion. Verso can only stare up at him in awe, completely transfixed by this wanton display.
“Such a good boy, so big and hard for me.” Gustave’s voice is like honey, the praise rich and warm over Verso’s yearning, aching soul. The words also make him feel even more used, just a mere toy for Gustave’s pleasure - a fact that Verso is absolutely relishing in, the fire that is already raging inside him growing even stronger because of it. He can only whimper pathetically in response, getting louder when Gustave follows up with, “As a reward, I’m going to milk every last drop out of you until there’s nothing left for you to give.”
I’ll give you everything you want. Anything to make you happy.
Some of Verso’s self-restraint snaps and he bucks up involuntarily. Gustave gasps at the sudden movement, he doesn’t chide Verso for it. In fact, his eyes darken with desire, but there’s that glint in them again too.
“Actually, there’s one more thing I want from you.” Gustave grinds down hard with his hips then, clenching at the same time. “I want you to come so deep inside me that your seed takes.”
Another short circuit in his brain. With so many things going on at once, it takes Verso a few seconds to fully process what Gustave has said, and then even more seconds after that to process the shock and blazing arousal from the realisation of the truth of what he’s asked for.
Noticing this, Gustave smiles at him lustfully. “Think about it. So much of this canvas already disregards the laws and rules of the real world, so why not change the biological ones too?” He leans down a little, both hands now pressed teasingly against Verso’s chest. “Would you like that, Mr Dessendre? To claim me… to breed me?”
The beast that has been kept on its leash rears up. It has been awakened, tempted from its slumber, and now it is feral.
But so sudden, so drastic, so intense is the sheer want coursing through Verso’s veins that his mind goes completely blank, empty save for the thought of Gustave and Gustave only. This state of mild delirium must last for a few seconds, because the last thing he remembers is choking out a gasp at Gustave words, and the next thing he’s aware of is that everything has stopped, save for two hands gently cradling his face.
“Verso? Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Verso blinks, with Gustave’s use of his name letting him know that the act is put on hold for now. After taking a few centring breaths, he properly replies, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”
“You worried me. You weren’t saying anything so I was afraid that it’s becoming too much.” Gustave’s face is now inches away from his, carrying an expression of genuine concern that instantly makes him want to comfort him.
“It was, but in a good way,” Verso says, using his thumbs to rub soothing circles on Gustave’s thighs. “You were so fucking hot that I couldn’t think, much less speak.” While Gustave does smile a little at such a compliment, that furrow between his brows doesn’t go away, Verso continues reassuringly, “I am enjoying every second of this, I promise you, mon cœur. I would have stopped you otherwise.”
“Alright, good.” Gustave relaxes at that, but very quickly a different look takes over. Sheepishly, he averts his gaze. “And the last thing I said… that wasn’t part of the act, that was-”
“-all you. I know.” Verso grins. This is the Gustave he’s more familiar with, the one who’s been a little shy about revealing his particular interests when it comes to sex. Verso has been more than happy to encourage and explore those interests with him, especially since most - if not all - of them lined up with his own, and this time is no different. “I liked it… a lot.”
Gustave finally smiles again, the confidence from before returning. “Then let’s get back to it, shall we?” He’s about to move to sit back upright when he pauses. “But if it’s alright with you, I would prefer it if we went back to being just us.”
“Of course… as long as you continue riding me,” Verso says with a wink.
“Why would I stop when I’m so comfortable here?” Gustave grinds down against Verso’s lap once again, smirking when this elicits a groan and a shudder.
As he steadies himself, Verso slowly slides his hands up Gustave’s thighs, stopping right at the junction between his legs and the globes of his ass. “And can I finally touch you where I want?” he asks, testing the waters.
“... We’ll see,” is all Gustave says with some of that same authoritativeness, but the look in those darkening brown eyes is sign enough that he's not going to stop Verso - because that’s exactly what he wants too. Still though, before Verso can get any real confirmation, Gustave resumes his previous pace, lifting himself up and down on Verso’s cock.
Now that he isn’t controlling himself, Gustave finally letting loose is a marvellous sight. He’s freely moaning and panting now, nails digging into Verso’s chest and abs to seek better support, better leverage to throw his hips down.
Verso is mesmerised, watching and feeling the way Gustave is fucking himself on his cock. How is he real, he wonders, because no painter or paintress could have ever created a person so handsome and smart and perfect for him; the real Verso himself could never have even thought of painting someone like this. And yet, Gustave, and by extension Verso’s adoration and reverence of him, is so viscerally real that it has to be. Such a man with all his brilliance and proclivities can only have happened organically, and for that Verso is beyond grateful to have him in his life.
Gustave calls out to him then, voice dripping with desire. “Verso…” Two syllables packed full of heat and want, enough for Verso to know what he’s asking for.
He uses one hand to wrap around Gustave’s leaking cock, stroking in time with Gustave’s movements. With the other, he glides it over Gustave’s ass, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing down to where their bodies are connected. He runs a finger over the stretched ring of muscle, feeling the way it so easily takes his slick cock over and over again. How badly he wishes he could see it (he’s seen it many times already, especially whenever he takes Gustave from behind, but how could he ever get tired of something so erotic?), but he’s content with just touching, especially when Gustave shudders at the contact.
“Merde,” Gustave curses as his rhythm falters, body seemingly conflicted over wanting to thrust forward into Verso’s fist, continue up and down on Verso’s cock, or backwards for more of Verso’s teasing finger. “You’re being so fucking good for me, Verso, knowing exactly what I need. I’m already close, can you feel it?”
“Yes,” Verso breathes out, feeling on the verge of coming himself. Still, he holds on, because like before, all he cares about is ensuring Gustave’s pleasure before his own.
As if reading his mind, Gustave says, “You are too, I can tell, but you’re not going to, are you? Not until I’m done, until I come all over your hand and stomach and chest to mark you as mine. Isn’t that right?”
Verso could not have been nodding his head more desperately. “Not until you let me.”
“Exactly.” Gustave smiles greedily at him before refocusing his efforts back on fucking himself on Verso’s cock.
Just as determined to get him there, Verso keeps up with him, using both of his hands to tease and stroke in all the ways he knows Gustave likes. Gratifyingly, it’s working, Gustave’s breathing speeding up, his rhythm all over the place, eyes closed as he hones in on chasing that high.
Not wanting to miss this glorious sight, Verso doesn’t dare blink. And he’s glad that he does so, because with one last hard thrust downwards and a loud smack of their bodies together, Gustave comes with a loud and sweet moan. His thighs tremble from both ecstasy and exertion against Verso’s sides as his cum paints white stripes all over Verso’s body just as he said. As filthy and as temporary it might be, the memory of the stains will remain, and with them Gustave’s claim on him.
I’m yours, Verso thinks as he feels Gustave clench around him, each quiver and twitch pushing Verso closer and closer to the edge. He watches Gustave’s head drop forward slightly, his own shaky arms against Verso’s chest the only things keeping him upright. The glasses slip forward to balance right on the tip of Gustave’s nose, and it takes a few seconds before Gustave realises, eventually pushing it back up followed by his own curls out of his forehead. When he does so, Verso is utterly awestruck by how hot he looks in this moment, with fully flushed cheeks, eyes still glassed over with bliss, chest heaving as he takes deep breaths. His back is arched ever so slightly, showing off the lines and muscles of his body that have Verso captivated.
So enraptured is he by what he sees that he forgets the fire raging inside him momentarily. It’s only when he feels Gustave moving again that he’s broken out of this trance, moaning as Gustave undulates his hips, moving in slow sensual circles in his lap. Instinctively, Verso now shifts both hands to grab Gustave’s waist, anchoring himself lest he float away too soon.
“You’ve done such a good job, mon ange, but you’ve still got one final thing to do.” Gustave grinds his hips down, harder than all the times he did earlier, driving Verso’s cock even deeper into him. “That last thing I asked of you when we were still in the act… I want you to come for me and do just that.”
Claim me… breed me.
Gustave’s words reverberate in his mind, and instantly, his lust-addled brain supplies an image of Gustave as he is now, sitting in his lap, but instead of that wickedly small waist, there is now a curve to his belly, swelling with his- their child.
This single obscene fantasy alone sends such a torrent of voracious heat and raw want that Verso finds himself shoved over the precipice and crashing right into his second orgasm.
It’s as if he’s been whacked right in the chest by a nevron. The euphoria is so immense that he throws his head back against the hard wooden surface, a mix between a whine and a moan escaping his lips. The hands he has around Gustave grip even harder, pulling him down even more as he spills deep inside him. At the same time, Gustave continues to move his hips and clench around Verso’s cock, keeping his promise to milk him dry.
With a head full of bliss-induced stars, Verso lets him, wanting to give him everything and more.
Just as it was the first time, Verso returns to himself after almost a minute. When he does, he finds Gustave looking at him with what can only be described as amused pride.
Then, Gustave suddenly breaks into laughter, and so does Verso, the reality of what they just did finally hitting them. This mixing of residual arousal and new merriment is entirely too bizarre, but it nonetheless warms Verso’s heart, happy that he can even experience something as strange and wonderful as this with someone like Gustave.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” Verso says, breathless and in joyous disbelief. It’s also only now that he remembers that he didn’t even lock the door; anyone could have walked in on them (which, in hindsight, makes the sex even more thrilling). So turned on were the two of them by each other and the act that they failed to consider everything else - not that Verso has any regrets, but still, it was a huge risk.
But of course, they’ve taken bigger risks than this, all of which led them to this moment.
“Neither can I. If I’d known it would lead to what we just did, I would have worn these sooner,” Gustave chuckles. He reaches up to readjust his glasses, but Verso stops him.
“It wasn’t just the glasses.” Verso takes them off carefully, putting them aside. He looks right into Gustave’s beautiful brown eyes, preferring them this way without the glass barrier. “It was you being so effortlessly smart and talented and authoritative that got to me. The glasses are just an added little bonus to make you look even more attractive than you already do.” It is the truth, and he realises now that he should have just been honest about it from the start. Apologetically, comfortingly, adoringly, he cups the side of Gustave’s face. “I’m still in awe that I get to have someone like you.”
A smile, bright and brilliant, lights up Gustave’s face. Verso can barely return the smile before Gustave has leaned down to kiss him. Verso quickly realises that they haven’t kissed once since the start, not to mention the previous few days where he was going to ridiculous lengths to avoid Gustave, so he reciprocates immediately, kissing Gustave back, savouring the taste and feel of Gustave’s lips that he’s foolishly stayed away from.
When they pull apart, Gustave says, “I love you.”
Verso’s heart skips. It wasn’t too long ago that he was still afraid of those three words, of how much they would reveal the true, almost terrifying depths of his feelings. But then Gustave had said it to him first, and since then, there is no more hesitation. “I love you too,” he replies, wondering what he did to deserve Gustave in his life.
Before he can get lost in this contemplation, he decides to focus on another matter. Teasingly, he asks, “So… did I pass the assessment?”
Gustave grins. “With flying colours. Your absences are forgiven.”
“Does that mean I’m still your good boy then?”
“The best.” Gustave cards his left hand through Verso’s hair, metal hands playing with the white strands. Tender and fond, he breathes, “My Verso.”
Devotion. That is what courses through every single inch of Verso’s being, surely radiating out of every pore towards Gustave. He didn’t think it possible - when he realised the truth about his identity, his reality, he prepared himself for a life of misery and doom, fully expecting it all to end in tragedy. Yet here he is, forging his own path with a lover that he could write countless songs about and for. He owes Gustave everything, and accordingly, has given him his heart, his body, his soul. Gustave has not just taken them, but has also given his own in turn, trusting Verso to take care of them. It is no small feat, but Verso cherishes it, and eventually, he’s found it to be as easy as breathing.
“Yours,” he says. Always, forever, more than you could ever know.