Coldforj

A young man sat at an artists easel, a beautifully rendered drawing of the street was half finished in front of him. His long fingers moved the pastels across the paper in smooth strokes, his slender wrists curving as he detailed the arches of the carriage that waited in the rain for its passengers. The rise and fall of his shoulder left the wide road gleaming wetly on the paper and a quick twist and smudge with a knuckle showed the chroma light reflecting from the umbrella of a lone man, walking down the road. Gustave was mesmerised. The young man was drawing in real time, rendering the street as it lived and moved around him. He had never seen such a thing before. His own drawings were technical and detailed to a fault. Each millimetre precise and perfectly rendered. They took time and patience. The young man before him gave only hints of details in each shape yet Gustave knew what each stroke of pastel was showing him, colours mixed on the paper as he watched and the soft edges held the life of the city in a way the Gustave didn't know was possible. Who was he? How did this young man see so much in such a short time? Gustave walked closer, he had to know more.

The young man didn't turn, he focus entirely on the scene before him. The only movement in his body were his eyes as they flicked from street to paper to pastels and his hands. Those oh so elegant hands, picking up each stick and delicately moving as if conducting an orchestra made only of colour. Gustave watched his face, the way his strange silver eyes danced under the thick black eyelashes and the way the light behind him caught in the oddly white strands of hair, turning them amber in the darkness around them. Gustave saw the texture of scar tissue over the young mans right cheek, the way it curved over his jaw and down his neck, disappearing under his collar. He saw way his throat moved under the dark hair of his beard as he swallowed.

"It's for sale, if you're interested Monsieur" his voice reached Gustave's ears, smooth and deep like vintage wine.

"Sorry, I... er. Sale?" Gustave stumbled over his words "oh! Your art. Would you really sell it to me?"

A small laugh from the young man took him by surprise "happily, Monsieur. How much would you be willing to pay?"

"How much do you normally sell your work for? I... have to admit, I know almost nothing about art" Gustave admitted bashfully.

"Whatever people want to pay, one cannot be too picky if one is to eat, non?"

"You won't eat if..." Gustave was shocked, how could this young man not earn enough to feed himself each day?

"Don't concern yourself with that, Monsieur. An idle comment, but... the drawing will be for sale when it is finished. If that would please you" said the young man quietly.

"I... have business. In the bar, but it will only take a short while. If you are willing to wait then I would be happy to discuss a price with you" Gustave told the artist.

"I am sure I can manage that, Monsieur. I do dislike being out in the rain on cold nights" he turned to to look at Gustave now, a small one sided smile on his face "I will be here, Monsieur..."

"Gustave. Please... just, Gustave" he held out his hand and after a moment of hesitation the young man took it in his, the icy chill in his fingers seeping into Gustave's warm skin.

"Verso. Just, Verso" he smiled.

"I shall be back, please do wait for me if you can" he said "I promise I shall be back, Verso"

The young man nodded to him, and turned back to his drawing "I... would like that very much, Gustave"

Gustave's hand moved up into his hair to hold Verso's head back as he kissed down his neck, smiling at the breathless gasps of the other man. Fuck he could listen to this for hours. He wanted to take Verso apart. Gustave nipped at his throat now and Verso arched against him.

"Fucking hell, Gustave..." he sounded wrecked.

"You like this?" He said against his heated skin, his hand moving up from Verso's waist stopping to undo another couple of buttons on Verso's shirt allowing him to pull aside the collar of his shirt. Gustave felt the younger man tremble as his lips brushed over his exposed shoulder.

Verso whined as he felt Gustave's tongue flick across his skin.

"You know how much I enjoy having my mouth on you" Gustave gently bit down just where Verso's neck met his shoulder "you taste so good like this, ma douce"

"Gustave... I, I need..." Verso could hardly speak, hardly think.

Gustave moved against him faster now, his breathy moans mixing with Verso's "What do you need?" He slid his hand over Verso's chest, fingertips tracing gently over his nipples as the hand on his hip slipped under the waistband of his pyjamas.

Verso sobbed as Gustave's hand stopped just above his cock, fingers brushing through the hair at its base but going no further. Not touching, just waiting. Oh, fucking hell. Verso was falling apart, he wanted...

"G...Gustave! Please..."

"Tell me" Gustave's voice was hot against his skin "tell me what you want from me"

Gustave stood up slowly. Verso’s head fell back as he was lifted, his body utterly limp in his arms. Gustave turned carefully, making sure to keep Verso as steady as possible. He frowned when he noticed the splattering of blood in the toilet bowl. Had Verso been throwing up blood? Was he sick? What the fuck was going on? He had been fine when Gustave left him sleeping on his sofa only a day ago. He could worry about that later. Right now he had a job to do.

“You’re alright Verso, I’ve got you. I’ve got you” He said leaning the man’s head against his shoulder and walking back into the bedroom “I’ll look after you. You’re safe now”

Verso strode into the classroom, the heels of his brand new black boots thumping on the floorboards. He could almost feel the eyes of every student on him, as they watched him walk across the floor in full Defence Patrol uniform, to stand in the middle of the room.

The deep grey of his asymmetric jacket with it's black and purple detailing was eye catching to say the least. Even more so than the white streak in his hair was. He had asked for it to be made as close to his original uniform as possible, and he was not disappointed. The sleeves were half length and his black combat gloves covered his forearms, Verso had also kept his purple sash, the wooden tokens he had won fighting in the gestral arena and the bracer for his left arm that Monoco had made for him long ago. The collar of his new jacket was the same and he wore both it and his shirt slightly open still, but had decided against the cape and hood.

The new uniform was well fitted to his slim but powerful frame and the leather was soft and allowed for full range of motion. If Verso was being honest with himself, he knew he looked damn good in it. He ignored the agonising cramps firing through his body and turned to face his students with his best smile.

"Good morning!" He looked around the room for a second "Who here wants a fight?"

“Come on” Gustave reassured him “you know I want you to, right?”

Verso stepped in close behind Gustave and wrapped his arms around the other man’s chest, pressing his face into the back of his neck and exhaling.

“There you go” he said quietly as he continued washing up. Just a couple of plates to go and they could move somewhere more comfortable.

“Thank you”

“Verso, you are free to do this any time you like. You don’t have to wait for my permission”

“Yeah, I know… I just, sometimes it’s hard to remember” as he spoke he slid his hands down Gustave’s body and over his hips, before slipping them into his trouser pockets.

Verso used the couple of inches of height he had to rest his chin on Gustave’s shoulder.

“I don’t… want to be too much” his voice low and quiet in Gustave’s ear.

“You are not too much, not ever. And I will tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it”

Gustave turned his head to place an awkward kiss on the side of Verso’s face.

“Now, you stand there while I get this finished. Then we can go and relax properly”

Lune grabs the bag and picks out a croissant, taking a bite as she settles back into the cushions.

“Do you know what I did when I realised I was falling for Gustave?” “Probably something idiotic” she says between bites “Or overly dramatic. Maybe both” “Yeah, pretty much.” he picks a pan au chocolat and bites into it “I was pretty idiotic. I wanted to run. I almost went back to the continent at one point. Sciel stopped me, she made me promise I'd stay to teach at the Academy, and you know she always gets what she wants, so… I avoided him. I dropped out of groups when I knew he would be there. I changed my entire timetable at work so I wouldn’t have to see him.”

“I remember that. Gustave was a bag of nerves for a full week. He kept asking if anyone had seen you, if you had mentioned him at all. He was convinced you hated him for some reason” Lune took another bite of her croissant and flicked a flake of pastry at Verso.

“Yeah, I know. I really thought I had fucked up when he told me how bad he got.”

“So, what changed?”