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His face was familiar.
Not the scar, or the white streak of hair, or the clear melancholy as he slipped through the crowd.
But his face, the structure of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders.
It was familiar in a way that Gustave wished he could place, even as the man continued to watch the demonstration from the back of the crowd.
Maybe it was that familiar physique, maybe it was the way he held himself that told Gustave he knew his way around a weapon.
Maybe it was the way he looked like he hadn't smiled in a century and he wanted nothing more than to draw a smile onto the face.
"Monsieur," Gustave called out. "Care to take a moment to duel?" The crowd had immediately parted for the man and Gustave watched him stop and turn to look at him. There was a wary expression in his face, so he put on his most charming grin. "I assure you, only something casual and for fun." He gestured to the crowd. "After all, how am I meant to recruit more Expeditioners if I do not showcase my skills?"
That, at least, got him the smallest amused huff, and a faint curling of the lips as the man approached. The man was in nothing more than a simple white shirt, and even as he drew closer, the uncanny feeling grew, because he should know this man, or at least have seen before... shouldn't he?
Gustave stepped back and summoned his sword to his fingertips and gestured to the space across from him as the man slowly stepped up and into it. He summoned his sword and Gustave's breath caught at the beauty of it, shining silver with flashes of gold, before they saluted each other and darted forward. The man was fast, but he was clearly not putting force behind his blows, parrying and evading most of them, rather than attacking Gustave in turn.
"You know," Gustave teased, still smiling. "As impressive as your own parrying and evading is, you aren't giving me much opportunity to showcase my own skills."
The man paused, tilting his head, considering. "Are you sure?"
Gustave narrowed his eyes and summoned his gun to his left hand, firing a shot just over the man's shoulder, enough to make him jolt and stare at him with widened eyes that immediately narrowed in consideration. "I suppose you will never find out unless you try."
An instant later, the man was on him, dashing forward, every moment fluid and practiced, forcing Gustave to parry again and again, until at last he managed a counter and pushed the man back and watched his eyes brighten, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"You're better than you look," the man acknowledged. He summoned a dagger to his other hand. "But not fast enough."
Gustave tightened his hand on his sword and didn't wait for the man to jump into the fray again, leaping into an attack and a quick flurry of parry-feint-counter-stab, dodging back from the dagger only to fire a shot at the man to make him duck and offer another opening. They traded blows back and forth, both panting as they separated, swords still raised, before darting in again and again. The crowd around their little demonstration had grown and there were cheers for both of them. The man's eyes were shining and his technique was shifting slowly, and it was getting harder to keep up.
"Come on," the man goaded. "You're faster than this. I can feel it. Show me," he demanded. l
Gustave laughed, despite the goading and shifted his stance, removing his tie, and unbuttoning his collar so he could move easier. "All right then." The last thing he did was roll up his left sleeve, exposing his arm and heard Maelle shout behind him.
"Go Gustave!"
"Come on, Gus, kick his ass!"
Gustave's lips curled at the cheering from Maelle and Sciel and focused on the man in front of him. He was still holding the dagger and sword as though he had been doing it for his entire life and when he nodded for them to resume their duel, now with much more space than before from the spectators. When his opponent spun in, blades flashing, Gustave darted forward, parrying the attack as he ducked under the next blow and spun and up into another, firing a shot that the man barely dodged. Their blades clashed together as they came together and separated, both of them panting hard, dancing eagerly and around each blow.
There was a wild energy to them now, and Gustave took advantage of a break to clench his left hand into a fist, the gun fading away from his fingertips.
"There you are," the man breathed, his eyes dropping to the cackling lighting and chroma gathering around. "Come on!"
Gustave couldn't remember the last time someone had been foolish enough to try to goad him into a proper fight, but he grinned and tossed some of his hair out of his face. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
The man cocked an eyebrow up. "Should I?"
"Yes," Gustave said with a laugh, charging into another engagement, leaning into the dodge the man attempted, swinging his left arm forward, only to find it parried by the dagger. He let the chroma overflow (not fully, they were in a crowd) and ripped the dagger out of his hand, bringing his blade forward to press it against the cheek of the man, his chest heaving. He grinned. "Match."
Gustave's breath caught and he watched the man step forward, into the edge of his blade, a thin stripe of red appearing on his cheekbone where the blade sliced a clean cut. He trembled, because they were chest to chest, and the man was only inches from him, that same melancholy from before back on his face. "I... monsieur?"
"Your blade needs to be sharpened," he murmured, his eyes flicking to it for an instant.
Gustave watched the thin line of blood trail down the man's cheekbones, his heart pounding, the edge of his blade stained with the blood that was now dripping onto the man's white shirt. He blinked, confused, because the comment didn't make any sense, nor did the man's apparent comfort of the blade lingering against his skin. He didn't seem afraid, or had even acknowledged the cut beyond the soft statement he'd made. The growing resignation in his face, the way it had fallen back into the same melancholy didn't make any sense, but he looked almost comfortable with the blade against the skin, splitting it open.
The moment stretched open between them and Gustave wanted to sway into him, especially with the awkward way they were standing, wanted to wipe away the sadness and see if he could draw out that beautiful smile once again.
Gustave let the blade disappear from his fingertips and pulled his kerchief out of his pocket. It was a serviceable thing, no longer as soft as a cloud as it had first been when he'd first bought it, but it would do. He reached up and pressed it to the wound, stemming the tide of blood. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, aware that they were still standing far too close, that the crowd was still watching them, and with every growing second, the man was clearly more and more aware of it, but he hadn't moved away yet.
"I'll be fine."
The words rang wrong, and Gustave felt him turning away and reached for him, only for him to slip away like he was made of air and not flesh. "Wait, wait..." he called, but the crowd was pressing closer, with praise for their fight, and the man was gone, and Gustave was left staring at the direction the man had left in. His heart ached and he wanted to chase after him, but his duty made him turn back to the crowd and smile, even though he cast one last lingering glance over his shoulder.
--
Around the corner, lingering in the shadow of the wall, regretting stepping forward to fight at all, Verso lingered and listened to the sound of Gustave Écrivain's voice as he spoke with the steadily growing crowd around him. He kept his fingertips pressed against the handkerchief on the cut, inhaling the faintest woodsy scent, breathing in deeply. The way Gustave's eyes had shined, the way he had fought with excitement, certainty, and pride.
Verso leaned back against the wall, swallowing hard, tightening his hand into a fist.
If only... if only things could be different.
For the first time, in almost a century, his longing making every beat of his chest ache...
Verso wanted things to be different.
He wanted, he wanted.
~!~
His wanting had never been enough before.
But now...?
But now it was all different.
Now, it was enough to save Gustave from his father, taking the lethal blow for him as he grabbed Gustave and Maelle and leapt for Esquie.
Now, it had been enough to have Monoco watching them both curiously, hinting that this might not only be his chance to free his sister, but a chance to tell the truth.
Now, it was just barely enough to keep him from the wrath of the others after he spilled it all out, talking until there were no words left, and they had all been silent, stunned and hurt, before he had stood up to walk from the camp for space.
Verso stared up at the moon and settled onto a rock far enough that he could hear if anyone shouted for help, but he would not hear their conversations. He would not hear the accusations, and if they decided to turn on him, he would have enough of a headstart to-
"You know, leaving made it very difficult to ask follow up questions."
Verso looked over his shoulder at Gustave, where he had stepped out of the trees after him. His weapons weren't in his hands, and he hadn't even bothered to pull his jacket back on, was in only his pants and shirt. "I suppose it did," he agreed, turning away from him. "Ask away. I have nothing left to hide."
Gustave sat down on the rock, a few feet away from Verso. "I had thought something was not only bothering you, but was actively wrong for days now. Couldn't have quite imagined that our world was a magical one in another entirely, that Maelle was one of the people who created these worlds, and that you were a creation of her brother." He shrugged.
Verso sighed and flipped his dagger between his fingertips, an old soothing gesture that he had never stopped. "Is there a question in all of that?"
Gustave snorted. "Why did you spar with me? That day at the market?"
Verso blinked and turned to look at Gustave, who was already watching him, a curious smile on his face. "What?"
Gustave shrugged. "You looked like you were done answering questions on the rest, and I've always been curious."
"You've seen and met the Gestrals," Verso started.
Blinking, Gustave nodded. "Yes." He smiled and looked down at the rock. "I wish we could have spent more time with them. They're wonderful."
"To the Gestrals, fighting is everything. Fighting is play, is arguments, is fun, it is their form of expression," Verso continued. "Traveling with Monoco as much as I have over the years, I'm sure that I've... assimilated a great deal of that. Fighting is fun, is play, is something I enjoy for the love of it, not only because of what I must do when I travel on the continent." He shrugged and glanced down at Gustave.
"About... ten years ago," Verso said, his voice softening. "Lumerians stopped looking at me."
Frowning, Gustave looked at the expression on Verso's face. "What?"
Verso nodded. "It could have been a trick of the Painting, that they were trying to ignore what they could not see or understand, but it was as though they all knew that I did not fit. I was not someone they knew or recognized and they were dwindling in number, so they should have, and not knowing me meant things they weren't willing to acknowledge. So they did not see me. They ignored me, and I slipped through crowd undetected, as though none of them could notice me."
"And then I did," Gustave said.
"And then you did," Verso agreed, looking down at Gustave. "And you asked me to play." He turned to look up at the stars. "For the first time in a very long time, I didn't want to say no, I didn't want to disappear into the crowd and let everyone forget I had stood there, that I had been there. I wanted them to see me. I wanted you to see me, and I wanted to play."
The wistfulness in Verso's voice was the same shade as the melancholy in his expression at the market that day. The resignation that he didn't deserve it, that he couldn't have it, that it was something far beyond his grasp. Like before, he wanted nothing more than to erase the expression off of Verso's face. "I remember I wanted to make you smile," Gustave offered and felt Verso's head jerk toward him. "You'd... there'd been sadness, lingering, and I wanted you to smile, just for a moment."
"I did," Verso admitted.
"I know," Gustave breathed. After Verso had rescued them from the Stone Wave Cliffs, he'd spent hours studying the curve of Verso's lips, chasing that exact same smile again. Maelle could bring it out most often, and so could the others. Except for him. Verso didn't smile around him the way he did the others. "I'm glad that the others make you smile," he added. "You deserve to smile."
Verso snorted, scoffing. "Do I?"
"Of course you do," Gustave said, rolling his eyes. "Don't be that dramatic. I know we all got our worldviews completely changed and we're angry about it, but that's too cynical, even for you."
That pulled a flash of a smile out of Verso, even if Gustave was turned away and couldn't see it. "I suppose so."
"That's what I thought," Gustave said with a huff. "Did you let me win? That day in the market?"
Verso turned his full attention to Gustave and waited several beats for the engineer to look at him. "Do you think I am the type to let anyone win? Ever? Knowing Monoco is my best friend and I spend an inordinate amount of time with Gestrals?" He narrowed his eyes. "Don't insult me like that again."
Gustave laughed, his head falling back. "Would you have to challenge me again if I did?"
"Absolutely."
A beat.
"Then you absolutely let me win. You folded like a wet piece of paper when I attacked with barely half-strength with my arm," Gustave said, glancing up at Verso. "I have to admit, I was very disappointed."
Verso blinked staring at Gustave in confusion before he remembered what he'd said only moments ago. That he'd wanted to play, and here Gustave was, offering him that same chance, and if the smile lingering on his lips was any indication, he damn well knew it. He stood up and walked off the rock, summoning his swords and dagger to his hand, pointing them at Gustave. "Then you leave me no choice."
Gustave grinned and stood up slowly. "You know there's no crowd to duel for this time."
Verso tipped his head and watched Gustave pointedly roll up his left sleeve, his heart jumping into his throat in excitement. "No," he agreed. "There isn't."
"So there's no reason to hold back, or to play things up for the people watching," Gustave continued, summoning his gun to his left hand. "And as you've been so kind as to teach us a few additional techniques, I suspect we're more evenly matched than we used to be."
When he dueled Monoco, there was always something familiar, something comforting about the crossing of blades that he knew as well as his own. It was always more of a comfort than he realized. This? Gustave staring at him with eyes shining with the energy crackling up and down his arm, both his weapons held in his hands, ready to fight? This made his heart sing and he wanted.
Verso spun his dagger in his fingertips, and settled into himself, meeting Gustave's eyes. "I suspect you might be right."
Gustave nodded once. "En garde!"
Verso barely managed to block the first blow, grunting under the weight of it as Gustave grinned at him, his hair a wild riot around his face. He was beautiful. "Going to have to be faster than that," he teased, and pushed Gustave back, slashing out with his dagger, making the other man dart back before they clashed together again. Like this, it was clear that Gustave was no longer playing things up for the crowd, nor was he holding himself back. His blows were heavier than Verso remembered, more weight, more strength behind them, and every single one rattled through him, especially with the threat of the gun constantly wavering close.
"There you are," Gustave panted, catching sight of that small smile lingering at the corner of Verso's lips again. He smirked and slashed under Verso's guard, aiming his gun at him before he was unceremoniously thrown over Verso's shoulder. The shock of hitting the ground barely gave him enough time to dodge out of the way of the blade that followed him down, leaving him scrambling for his feet to summon his sword again, blocking Verso's next attack.
"Come on," Verso taunted. "Where's that fancy attack of yours? I want to see the full strength of it."
Gustave grinned and brandished his sword again. "Good things come to those who wait and are patient." They traded blows again, sparks flying with every clash of their swords, and his arm was aching, sweat making his shirt cling to him, even as they circled each other again and again, until at last his Overcharge was ready. Gustave clenched his hand into a fist and let the electricity and chroma spin around him in a comforting spiral and met Verso's widening eyes.
Verso settled into his stance and breathed, slow and deep, watching and waiting for Gustave to dart forward with the attack that he had seen be devastating on almost any nevron they came up against.
"Going to try to parry me?" Gustave teased, watching Verso.
"I am going to parry you," Verso promised.
Gustave dashed in, pulling his arm back, trusting that Verso would manage to do exactly that. The full force of the blow, and the chromatic electricity sparked around them, spinning around his arm and Verso's blade, before it discharged off and into the sky, a successful parry and Verso was outright grinning at him again. "Match," he declared.
Verso's eyes widened when he felt the barrel of Gustave's gun rest against his template and he looked to his right hand, his breath catching. "Putain."
Gustave let the gun fade away from his fingertips and he let his hand fall down to his side, panting hard as he stared at Verso with a grin. They were still standing too close together, too comfortably together like this, but maybe, just maybe... this moment wouldn't end with Verso running away again. "Have fun?"
Verso swallowed hard and nodded. Gustave hadn't looked away from him, and he was still breathing hard, each one coming in soft little exhales, and he wanted to steal the breath from Gustave's chest himself. "I did."
Gustave reached up and traced his fingers along Verso's cheek where he'd left a cut last time. "At least this time I didn't leave a mark." He smiled faintly. "And give up one of my best handkerchiefs to the handsome man who disappeared shortly after."
Verso's heart leapt and his hand was sliding into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a familiar piece of white cloth before he could think twice about it. "I'd always meant to give it back."
Gustave's breath caught and he reached out to take it, before he stepped closer and slid his hand into Verso's jacket, tucking the kerchief back where it belonged, looking up at Verso, his heart pounding with how close they were standing. "Keep it," he whispered. "Never know when I might win our next duel."
Verso burst out laughing, his head falling back, because the easy teasing, after everything he'd shared today felt like forgiveness and a way to move forward. A way where Gustave didn't hate him, and the Expedition didn't abandon him for the fruitless fight against the Paintress. He shook his head and meet the smile lingering on Gustave's face again. "I'll keep that in mind."
Gustave tipped his head up and kissed the smile off of Verso's lips, savoring the faintest press of their lips together, before he pulled back and looked up at Verso. "See that you do." He stepped back and gave Verso a rueful smile, turning to head back to camp, only to find his hand grabbed, and himself tugged, right back into the circle of Verso's arms. "Verso?"
He wanted, he wanted, and now that he knew what the touch of Gustave's lips tasted like, he was consumed. Verso could still feel the warm press of Gustave's fingers against his chest, tucking the kerchief back in his pocket, and the soft touch of his lips. The lingering rush of their fight was still singing through him, and even though it was a weakness, even though he should have let Gustave go, he couldn't.
Verso cupped Gustave's cheek and pulled him in for another kiss, forgoing the tentative touch Gustave had favored. If this was going to be his only chance to kiss the smile off of Gustave's lips and sink into the warmth of him, he wasn't going to waste it. He wrapped one arm around Gustave's waist and pressed him closer as he sank into one eager kiss after another, melting into Gustave until they had to break apart for air, and he panted against Gustave's lips, brushing their noses together. "Sorry," he whispered.
"What could you have to apologize for, hm?" Gustave asked, sliding his fingers back and into Verso's hair, pulling him in for another kiss, this one slower, and softer.
Verso swallowed, digging his fingers into Gustave's back, keeping him right where he was. "Leaving after our first duel?" he offered.
Gustave smiled, nodding slowly. "Now that, I will accept an apology for." Another slow, lingering kiss. "You should make it up to me. Like this."
A teasing thought occurred and Verso pulled back, watching Gustave's nose wrinkle. "What would I earn if I were to win one of our duels?" The smile returned to Gustave's face immediately and Verso had to lean in to kiss it off of him. "I suppose the prize would have to be worthy."
Gustave nipped at Verso's lip and watched him pull back, shivering under the heat in his gaze. "You don't consider yourself worthy enough?"
Verso flushed. "I..."
"Hm," Gustave pulled back and considered. "We'll have to work on that then. Perhaps it'll be something to practice in our next duel." He leaned up and pressed a kiss to where he had cut Verso's cheek in their first duel and tugged himself reluctantly away. "Thank you for the duel, Verso."
Verso's heart was pounding uncomfortably hard in his chest as he nodded and watched Gustave walk away and back toward camp. He followed behind him, still keeping his distance, wanting to join them, to perhaps even step up behind Gustave, wrap his arms around him and-
"Marry him," Monoco ordered. "Immediately."
"Putain de merde," Verso muttered, glaring at Monoco who was leaning against a tree, staring at him. "Isn't that giant bell supposed to stop you from sneaking up on people?"
"I am far too stealthy for that."
Verso smiled and rolled his eyes. looking back at Gustave and watched him laugh, chatting with the girls, the tension gone from them, even in the face of all the revelations this evening. His lips were still tingling from their kiss, and his heart was still pounding from the fight and the moments after.
"That is what humans do, isn't it? When you look at it each other like that?" Monoco said. "He even beat you in a duel. He's perfect. I approve. Marry him."
Verso had to fight down a smile, but as he watched the man who had dueled him, simply because he had thought it might make him smile... "I... I just might, mon vieux."
"Good," Monoco grunted. "You deserve to smile like that."
The echo of what Gustave had said about his smiling earlier made his heart ache and he nodded.
Maybe... maybe he did.