Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gustave looked at his pocket watch as he combed his hair, and exhaled with relief when he realised that he still had some time left to get ready. He had managed to tame his hair somewhat, brown strands mostly laying in one direction – although some days it was definitely a lost cause – and his beard was equally nicely groomed. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket over his dress shirt, a dark grey highlighting the light blue. He smiled with satisfaction: he looked appropriately preened, but not too casual nor too dressed for the occasion.

He glanced at the note that he had stuck to his mirror, up in the left corner.

“Tomorrow, after the noon, at an hour when the sun remains white,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will cross the Tuileries Garden, I will cross its alleys on the right.
I cannot bear to imagine much longer the sight of you without me.

Orangerie, Tuileries Garden, three in the afternoon, tomorrow.
-V”

Gustave could hardly tell what was more cliché: that Verso took the time to ask him out on a date using a poem, or that he actually found it unbearably romantic.

Definitely the former… After all, anyone could read the note – not that Gustave would ever want them to do that! – but there were no living beings present to confirm or deny that he definitely squealed a bit when he read it. M. Courbet, being an old man wholly uninterested in gossip, and also his boss and thus forced into professionalism even though he was present when Gustave was delivered the note, obviously did not count. Even though he totally did witness Gustave daydreaming like an idiot for a solid twenty minutes.

Some things are best left ignored for the sake of his work integrity.

The young man combed his hair once more, applied cologne for a third time and checked himself for about the hundredth time in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect after all; nothing could ever be left to chance in these kinds of matter. He saw a giddy smile appear on his face and almost schooled his features into a neutral expression but decided against it. He was feeling joyful beyond belief; he should seize his heart for once.

At the very least Emma would agree with the sentiment. His twin sister always complained about… well, about pretty much everything in his life if he was being honest, but mostly about the fact he needed more friends so he would stop freaking her out by talking to himself when his creativity ran wild at three in the morning. You badly terrified your sister one time at eighteen years old and suddenly you were deemed a freak of nature for life.

Since his watch was showing that he still had ten minutes before he needed to leave, Gustave decided to step away from his bathroom before he started to overthink and suddenly decide that he looked no better than a street dog stuck outside in a pouring storm. He stepped into his kitchen and decided to clean the mess that he had left on the small dining table.

His apartment was not big but he had a tendency to leave a mess everywhere regardless. He could definitely add this to the list of things his twin always complained about whenever she visited.

He noticed that at the top of the pile of documents – one of the piles, the tallest one and also the one less at risk of falling and sending documents everywhere – there was a new piece of paper, one he did not remember seeing before. He picked it up.

It was from Emma, dated to this morning. She must have stopped by with her copy of the keys while he was at work. She should have waited so that they could have lunch together! It was her turn to pay!

Gustave skimmed through the note.

A complaint about the state of his apartment, a critic of one of his new jackets, what was nearly a compliment about a project the office had finished working on, and a strongly worded reminder that he had better not have forgotten about the meeting in the ev-

Wait. What meeting!?

Gustave brought the letter close to his face.

Indeed, Emma was ‘kindly’ reminding him that the two were supposed to have dinner with her mentor, M. Lebrun, plus some other members of the Association, and that if he were to forget about it and got too absorbed in his engineering projects like a month ago and decided on not showing up, she would skin him alive and hang him by the balls.

The joy of siblinghood.

Gustave groaned. Emma was always deadly serious about her threats. At least he had an explanation as to why she did not stay for lunch.

He could not even be too mad about her, and that was the worst part; because she totally hit the nail on the head when she correctly guessed that he had forgotten about their dinner plans. But he decided that he could, no, he should be excused for being more focused on his afternoon plans.

Not that he would tell her immediately about Verso… Some things were best kept private and away from nosy twin sisters.

He hummed as he finished tidying up, a tune he had heard a band play at a bistrot the last time his colleagues and he went out for lunch. Outside a pair of pigeons cooed on the roof next to his window and the church’s bells rang three times, accompanying his melody.

Ding-dong-ding.

He kept on humming and cleaning his apartment.

Ding-dong-ding.

It must have been three already, he thought distantly. But that was fine because his watch had indicated that-

He paused in his thoughts and dropped everything in his hands.

He mechanically fetched his watch out of his pocket. The wands were in the exact same position as the last time he had checked. He stared and stared and stared. They did not move one bit.

He dropped the watch, uncaring about the way it fell on the carpeted floor, and put his head in his hands.

He wanted to scream. He stuffed his prosthesis into his mouth to muffle the sounds instead.

His watch must have been broken for at least a solid half an hour, if not more.

He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. In. Out.

He grabbed his bag. Walked towards the door. Opened the door. Closed the door.

And then proceeded to run down the stairs, and then all the way to the park while thinking, “putain, putain, putain, I'm a fucking idiot who can't read a watch” and “bless Emma for finding me that conveniently located apartment in the ninth arrondissement and also I never said anything bad about her ever.”

His mind was pretty much empty, his brain focused on getting him from point A to point B without, hopefully, keeling over and dying like an idiot in the streets. He tried to not think about anything but could not help but already picture his sister standing by his tombstone, ‘dumbest and least athletic brother ever’ written on it.

Dead from embarrassment or from having missed a step and ran in the way of a coach, he was none the wiser.

He could have cried when after who-knows-how-many minutes spent sprinting around the streets of Paris he saw the Orangerie's building looming in the distance. Actually, scratch that, he definitely did cry.

He clung on to a tree next to the park's entrance. He wanted to believe that he was being suave, but he knew fully well that with the way he was leaning on it and appropriately looking like he had run miles, it probably was not working very well.

He wondered if Verso had waited long, and prayed that it was not the case.

His question was answered when the man of the hour noticed him from some twenty meters away and immediately came to join him, Verso's face breaking into a smile.

Gustave straightened up as best as he could, patting himself and trying to not breathe too heavily. It was a difficult task. He decided to shamelessly ogle Verso instead.

The older man was unsurprisingly a much welcome sight for sore eyes, evident even if Gustave's vision was still a bit blurry and he himself felt lightheaded. He was wearing a cropped dark brown jacket with a very tight pair of matching pants and shiny dress shoes. He had a simple cream shirt on, which looked very soft and airy enough for the summer weather. His face was as perfect as it always must have been. He was carrying a small cardboard box and had a baguette tucked under his arm.

Verso came to a stop beside him, and now that he was close enough Gustave could see that the other man had a weird look in his eyes. Was he… embarrassed to witness Gustave in such a state? He must not have looked very appealing with his panting breath and reddened cheeks.

“Hi, Verso,” Gustave attempted to say as naturally as possible between his air intakes. “I, I hope I'm, not too late.”

“Not at all,” Verso said pleasantly, though he was still averting his eyes and looking above Gustave's shoulder. “I brought you some pastries.”

Oh, Gustave was halfway to loving this man already.

“You did? Thank you!”

He chuckled. “I figured that, if anything, it would make a very nice conversation starter.”

Gustave nodded. He brushed his hair off of his forehead and pulled his jacket up at the elbows. He should be much better now. Or at least much better at pretending.

Verso raised an eyebrow in silent question. Gustave waved one hand dismissively. “I just, ah, took a nice little run before coming here.”

“You do know what I had planned this date to be, right?” He sounded much too evilly gleeful.

“Yes?” he lied.

Verso nodded with false conviction. “Good, good. No need to warn you then.”

Warn?

Verso held out the box. “Here, for you. I hope I chose well.”

Gustave took the box in his hands. “My sister will tell you that the way to a man’s heart is through food, mine in particular. So I will classify your wooing attempt as successful.”

Verso laughed. “You haven't even seen the best of me yet.”

“I would love to see the best of you, then.”

“Oh? Is that a promise?”

Gustave was not sure what his tone meant. He looked at the box and opened it. “If you want,” he added.

Inside the box were two lovingly made chocolate éclairs with tiny flowers made out of whipped cream on top. They looked frankly adorable.

“Oh they're so cute!” Gustave cooed. “Thank you again!”

Verso brushed it off. “It was nothing. I only hope that they taste as good as they look. Consider this as a way of having dessert together.”

Gustave smiled earnestly. “Most men will bring flowers on a first date, you know,” he teased without any bite.

“Well, I am not like most men. At least I like to think so. And, may I remind you that you are also a man, my dear Gustave?”

“Yeah but I wasn't the one who invited you!”

“That's almost worse, that just confirms that I did all the planning and you just showed up.”

“Well, I, uh… I did you the kindness of showing up! I even ran to not be late!”

Verso laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough, I suppose. Now if the lady could please taste her chocolate éclair so that I can know if I need to buy more next time?”

Gustave rolled his eyes but complied.

One bite was enough to confirm that they were, as he had already suspected, really fucking good chocolate éclairs.

He moaned. "Oh my God where did you get them!? I don't think I've tasted anything this good in forever!”

But when he turned to look at Verso, Verso was already facing away towards the direction of the entrance to the park.

“I thought that we could enjoy a nice stroll in the gardens since it's such a beautiful afternoon. There are less people than usual at this hour. And I figured that the Orangerie, beautiful as it is, would make a perfect starting point.”

Gustave nodded while quickly swallowing down the rest of his éclairs; he was hungry, they were delicious, and Verso was not looking at him making an embarrassment of himself. Now that he thought further, Verso did look a bit flushed. He hoped that the sun was not causing him too much trouble.

“Sounds good,” he mumbled between two mouthfuls.

Verso smirked. “There is nowhere more private than the middle of a crowd. Lost in the mass, two souls in a sea of hundreds, sometimes thousands… That is true anonymity. We should have plenty of time, just the two of us.”

Gustave put the box in a nearby bin.

“Let us go then!” He joyfully declared.

“I can't wait to spend time with you” was not said but very much heard nonetheless.

“Although,” Gustave continued. Verso looked at him inquisitively. “I must ask…”

They were at the gates, the appealing views and alleys of the gardens taunting in the distance.

“Sure, ask away. Anything that you want.”

“Why… Why do you have bread with you? I mean, you're allowed to! If you want! But I haven't seen you eat anything and you clearly brought me pastries, not bread.”

Verso looked down at the baguette carried under his arm, as if he himself was remembering that it was still there. He shrugged. “You'll see,” he replied mysteriously and then started to walk away.

Gustave caught up to him. “Hey! What kind of an answer- You're so weird, I swear!”

Verso smiled innocently but slowed down to allow them to walk together. “Half of my charm, isn't it?”

He blushed. It was not entirely wrong. He elected to look at the scenery instead, the orderly lined trees providing shade and the various flowers artistically curated. The deep greens could make one forget about the greys and blues of Paris for a moment, the outside noise somehow dampened until it felt like a different city entirely. Various birds, mostly pigeons and doves, cooed from the treeline, the quiet chatters of fellow passerbys could be heard. It was as beautiful as it was peaceful.

“Have you been to these gardens often?” Gustave asked after some agreeable moments of silence spent in the other's company.

Verso hummed. “My mother would often take my siblings and me for a walk in the afternoon, before art class. She would swear that it was the perfect way to stimulate our imagination.”

“I think that I cannot help but be in agreement with your mother. The landscape is truly wonderful; it makes me want to pick up a pencil as well!”

“Oh? I was led to believe that your one true love was engineering. And now you're telling me that you're also trained in the arts.” He chuckled, “my, my, what a treat.”

Gustave shook his head. “Oh no, I wouldn't consider myself an artist. Not at all even.”

“It was always my truest belief that in each of us lies the dormant soul of an artist.”

He sighed and unconsciously clutched his prosthesis with his other hand. Sometimes that dormant soul never awakened.

“I’m an outlier, then. All great theories have them, don't they?”

“Ah, I see! A true scientist soul then!” Verso declared with a great amount of enthusiasm. His eyes were unreadable, or perhaps too knowing. Gustave decided to not gaze into their greys.

“Have you ever studied sciences?”

“Not like you, no. Though I did receive a formal education, if that was your underlined question.”

“I wasn't implying anything! You just happened to quickly jump back on what I said, that was all.”

Verso smiled lazily. “Good to know that you don't see me as entirely stupid. Always nice to have my ego stroked once in a while.”

Gustave rolled his eyes fondly. “You're insufferable and much too full of yourself, Verso, that's what you are.”

“You didn't deny it.”

“We're both fully aware that upon our first meeting you understood my electrical drawings.” He threw the other man with a pointed look, but it was dimmed somewhat by his grin. “No need to play these games with me. I see you for what you are.”

Verso smiled. “Let's hope that I gave you a kind impression of myself, then.”

Gustave pretended to think about it. “Hm, didn't I mention that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?”

“Something along the line, yes.”

He clasped his hands. “Indeed! Thus it seems like you made a good impression!”

Verso walked closer to him, all hooded eyes and smirk. “Really?”

Gustave nodded. He blamed his redness on the heat. “Hm-mm.”

“So; did I get it?”

“Did you get what?”

“Your heart.”

The younger man immediately put his burning face in his hands. After all, if he saw no one, then perhaps no one could see him.

“I can not believe you just said that. You did not just say that.”

“What? That I wanted your hea-”

“By all the Gods, please stop speaking,” he whined. “This is so embarrassing.”

“You hurt my feelings, my dear.”

“Who says this kind of thing in public!?” he bemoaned.

He was still much too red for his liking. And to his despair, his companion picked up on it as well.

Verso sounded awfully sly for Gustave's poor fragile state. “Something tells me that it's not what you're embarrassed by.” Gustave did not answer. “For both of our sakes, just admit my superior flirting skills.”

“It shouldn't even be capable of working on me. That was so lame,” Gustave mumbled, and it was as good a confession as any.

“Maybe it only worked so well because we are already so attuned to one another.”

Gustave stared, slack-jawed. “Oh by the Gods, how did you even come up with that?”

He shrugged guilelessly. “It helps to have a wonderful muse.”

The younger man covered his ears and started to walk faster, trying valiantly to ignore how his heart beat faster. “I am denying everything nice I have ever said about you, ever!” He shouted.

“But you're the one making a scene in public now, my dear!” Verso shouted back, though his own smile could be heard in his voice. “Are you going to leave me looking like a scorned lover?”

“Yes!”

“But oh please, my dearest, don't be so cruel! Hear my earnest plea!”

“So be it!” He laughed, picking up speed. The summer breeze was winding through his hair. “Make the world see what a pathetic lover you are!”

“My angel, people are actually staring at us!”

Gustave stopped abruptly and looked back. “They are!?”

He only got a second to see Verso before the other man crashed into him.

Verso was, thankfully, much more careful – or at the very least he was actively watching where he was going – and balanced the two of them with a solid grip on Gustave's arm to prevent them from tumbling.

“There you are; don't go where I can't follow, sweetness.”

Gustave snorted. He detached himself. “I will ignore that last bit only because you did not let me make an even bigger fool of myself by falling. I don't think I would've recovered from that.”

“On top of everything that happened to you today, you mean?” The other man teased.

“You're the one still on a date with me, so I clearly must be doing something right.”

Verso barked out a laugh. “That's true! Must be your charming brown eyes.”

“Do you want me to bolt again?”

He raised two hands. “Please don't go where I can't follow.”

Gustave felt that something was wrong but could not tell what. He was staring at Verso with a frown – and the other man's answering head tilt told him that he did notice – slowly morphing into a puzzled expression.

“There's something wrong about you.”

Verso, too, looked very puzzled. “You have such a way with words, my dear.” He tried to joke.

“No- I meant-” Gustave stammered. “Didn't…” he paused. Frowned some more.

The realisation suddenly hit him.

He grabbed Verso's shoulders and looked up to his face. He had miscalculated somewhat and they were almost touching, but his brain overruled the thought. “Wait! I got it! Where's the bread you were carrying?”

In slow, slow unison, they turned to look behind them.

There, amidst the pebbles on the ground, some fifteen meters away, laid the most pitiful looking baguette that was ever baked in the country. The paper had slipped away and was being dragged away by the wind.

“Ah!” Verso said happily. “So that’s where it went!”

“Oh my Gods,” Gustave whispered. He turned back towards Verso. “I am so sorry!”

“Hm? What for?”

“It's all ruined,” he detached himself and walked to the baguette. He picked it up: it was covered in dirt and pebbles. Definitely not good for consumption. “Who's going to eat that now?” He woefully asked.

Verso grabbed it from his hands gently. He dusted it off until it retained mostly its original colour, if not its appearance. Or taste. “There,” he grinned. “All good to eat.”

It was like all the activity in Gustave's brain had stopped.

And to think that Verso had appeared so… normal. Guess you really could never judge books by their covers.

He was now confronted with the serious possibility that the man next to him was, perhaps, utterly insane.

Hot as sin, but utterly insane.

“What did you say?” Gustave carefully demanded as he surveyed the distance between them.

“I said that it's still good to eat. It's gonna be accompanied by pond water anyway, so I don't think a small trip on the ground is going to worsen things.”

Oh by the Gods he really was insane. He knew that there had to be a trick somewhere!

Gustave did not answer. Verso must have seen something on his face because his own eyes widened.

“Wait. Oh my, are you currently thinking that I'm going to eat that?”

“...”

Verso started to laugh deeply, bending at the knees to support himself. Between his bouts of laughter, he said.

“Oh, your face!” He was grinning so hard that Gustave did not know whether to join him or feel offended. “It's not for me;” he pointed a finger in the direction of the biggest of the Tuileries ponds which was incidentally close to them, some children playing in the water and birds drinking from the water, “it's for the ducks!”

Gustave did not know how to answer. “...”

Verso wiped a tear from his eyes. “I swear I'm not insane, I just thought this would be a cute date activity. Trust me, ducks do not care about some dust when they get to eat fresh bread.”

That was… terribly cute of him. Downright adorable, even. Most people just gave stale bread!

The younger man, at last, found humour in the situation as well. His companion being awfully romantic and sweet certainly helped sway his judgment in his favour. He chuckled. “Happy to report that my date isn't a psycho, then.”

Verso smirked, “you just haven't seen the best of me yet.” He held out one arm for Gustave to latch onto. “Now come; I'll have you know, the ducks here are true Parisians in their temperaments!”

Gustave happily linked their arms and they walked together the rest of the way.

“You mentioned going to the gardens with your mother. Is this something you used to do when you were young?”

Verso hummed. “Yes. My sisters and I would also sneak out sometimes; my oldest sister would instigate it. She would sneakily devise a plan weeks in advance, even at one time hiding bread in her own room!”

“In her own room? She really was dedicated!”

He laughed but there was a hint of nostalgia to the sound. “She sure was. It has been a long time now since I did anything like that with her. Adult life gets to you once and then never leaves you again.”

“I know what you mean. I have a sister myself, she's my twin. We used to be close when we were younger, but we kind of… naturally drifted apart, I suppose.”

They were in front of the pond now. Some of the ducks must have recognised the sight of the baguette because they were already gathering close to them, quacking expectantly. Gustave cooed at the little ducklings flapping their wings and roaming around their mothers.

“That might be the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my life,” Gustave commented. “Cuter than the time my sister and I went to visit our aunt when her dog had given birth to puppies the week before. Look at them!” He gushed.

Verso broke tiny pieces from the bread and handed them to him, throwing some himself into the pond. The ducks immediately dived towards them, happily munching. Gustave threw his own crumbs as well and they were now surrounded by an overjoyed armada of ducklings.

“These ducklings are pretty cute, I agree. Though from my own point of view, I can see something even cuter.”

Gustave raised his head. “I can't see much of anything else. Are you talking about that poodle on the left, next to the orange tree?”

Verso laughed. “Say, have you ever considered other career paths than engineering? Like being an optometrist?”

“Optometrist? Where did you ever get that from?” He wondered amusedly.

The other man mumbled something too quietly for him to pick up.

“What did you say?”

Verso simply smiled. “Nothing important.”

“What about you? What jobs have you ever considered for yourself?”

“Currently the life of an heir doesn't give me much to complain about. I get money to splurge on bread for ducks and éclairs for handsome gentlemen.”

“And if you could have chosen?” Gustave kindly asked.

“If I could have chosen?” He repeated, staring into the distance.

“Just picture it: maybe we could have met in school, or even-”

But he never finished his sentence because there was a voice loudly calling for him.

“Gustave! Bonjour ! I didn't expect to see you here!”

It was Lune. She was dressed pretty stylishly today, in a pretty red gown and fashionable matching hat, her short black hair in a neat side braid.

He would have been happy to see her any other time but he would have rather not seen her at this exact moment.

His friend started walking towards him. Apparently, she had not yet noticed that Gustave was not alone.

“Hi Lune,” he greeted meekly.

“I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” She said happily while jogging towards him. “How has work been treating you? I need to tell you about this new machine they-”

“Lune.” He cut her off gently. He did not know what to say. He raised one hand to awkwardly rub his neck and tilted his head in Verso’s direction. “I'm, huh… yeah…”

She followed his gaze and finally saw Verso. Her smile dropped. “And who are you?” she questioned, direct as always.

“He's just a fr-”

“-I'm his date,” Verso answered with a grin. The sky look in his eyes told the younger man that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Gustave could do nothing but stare with betrayal as Lune bombarded him with questions.

“You should have started with that!” She lightly hit his arm. “You haven't been on a date in what? Forever? How long have you two been going out?” She dropped her voice. “What's his name? What does he do for a living? Is he-?”

“I think we can stop there with the questions, Lune.” Gustave begged. “I'll answer them lat-”

“No we are not,” she jabbed a finger into his chest. She turned towards Verso accusingly and the older man managed to not fully lose his smirk. “Who are you? What are your intentions with Gustave?”

“You do not need to defend my honour. I'm a grown man!” Gustave complained but neither of the two listened.

“I'm Verso. And as for my intentions… only the usual I suppose.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I'm getting a strong déjà vu feeling…” he mumbled, before adding in a louder tone. “Well, you know, the usual.” He counted on his fingers: “wine, dine, fu-”

“OK!” Gustave yelped. “No need to tell her that-”

“How do I know that I can trust you with him?” She crossed her arms.

“-And you don't need to defend my honour-!”

Verso was not appearing smug anymore, and it made him seem all the more honest. “He agreed to come, didn't he? And he hasn't ran away from me, even when he saw a friend of his in the gardens. I think if you cannot trust me, trust him.”

His argument must have worked ever so slightly on Lune, because she looked less defensive.

“That’s true,” she conceded. “Gustave is not an idiot.”

“Why do you make it sound like that's not a compliment…?”

“He certainly is not,” Verso agreed, and he managed to make such a short sentence hold such weight.

Gustave tried to not show how much he was affected by it. He changed subjects instead.

“Lune, you're so elegant today! Is there a reason in particular?”

Years of friendship told him that she saw through his weak tactics and would bother him more later. Yet, because of those same years of friendship, she went with him.

She was a good friend.

“Why? Can't I dress nicely if I want to?”

“No- I mean, uh- of course you can!” He babbled. “I'm just more used to seeing you in overalls at the workshop, or jumpers in the library…”

“You would be correct.”

“So, there is a special reason…?”

A light flush formed on her cheeks, betraying her true thoughts. “Nothing special, no.”

“Pardon me,” Verso interrupted, “but I believe that you meant to say ‘someone special, yes,’ judging by your expression.”

Lune blushed harder while Gustave's eyes widened. “Lune, is that true?”

“It's really nothing important, I'm just going to see a projection from the Lumière brothers with Sciel…”

“I'm sorry,” Verso said in a non-apologetic tone, “you interrupted your friend's date even though you had one yourself?”

“It's not a d-” she stopped herself, “anyway, you don't understand how much of a miracle it is that Gustave actually managed to go out for once.”

“Maybe don't say these things in front of said miracle date,” Gustave whispered, annoyed.

“If he wants to keep you he'll get the truth sooner or later,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Better to not make false impressions.”

“I wouldn't know about that,” Verso said lightheartedly. “His charm clearly worked on me.”

She was not impressed. “His barely disguised bedroom eyes whenever he looks at you, you mean?”

“Oh my God,” Gustave whined. “Lune, don't you have better things to do? Like go on your date.”

“As I said before, it's not a d- urgh, no matter.” She adjusted her hat. “I do have to go.”

She kissed Gustave on the cheek goodbye, but kept a polite distance with Verso, the older man not really making any moves himself.

“A pleasure meeting you, Verso,” she said with piercing eyes that announced her murderous intentions if he ever hurt Gustave.

“Likewise, Miss Lune,” Verso replied with less confidence than usual.

When she was far away enough from them, Verso huffed in awe. “You have some terrific friends.”

“She's… I was going to say she's not always like that, but she is always like that.”

“She's kind.”

“She is.” Gustave sighed before continuing: “I hope this didn't contribute to me making a bad impression of myself on our first date.”

Verso smiled mysteriously, silver eyes shining. “Who said anything about bad impressions now?”

He felt his heart beat faster. “Would you say this was a successful date?”

Verso grabbed his hand gently and laid his eyes on him. He really had beautiful eyes. “What makes a date successful is who you get to spend it with. A walk in the park, a lovely sunshine and an amiable company;” his voice lowered. “Such is the recipe for a budding romance.”

Gustave had never felt anything quite like what he felt in this exact moment. He felt, for the first time in a long while, the need to grab a pen and set his memories to paper, lest he ever forget them.

“Romance, huh?” The younger man whispered. “By your own admission, I'd thought of us as friends.”

“Friends don't wish to kiss the other on the lips,” Verso confessed, probably aware of the effect this sentence alone had on Gustave's poor heart.

“Is that something that you wish to do?” He bravely asked. His hands were shaking.

The older man delicately held his cheek with one hand, and brought their faces closer together. “I do, yes. You?”

“More than you could know,” he admitted, breathless.

“Oh, I think that I may have an idea,” Verso joked.

Their lips met and Gustave forgot everything else. His warmth, his touch, one hand holding his own and the other at his waist; it was utterly perfect.

It was made all the more sweeter by Verso's loving smile when their kiss ended, the older man bending his head to rest their foreheads together. Gustave was still chasing after him, which made the other man chuckle.

“I fear that propriety and decorum have to be upheld in public. Wouldn't want to be banned.”

Gustave laughed, “the poor ducks would riot.”

He could not tell how long they had spent there in each other's arms, watching the ducks play in the pond and the slow flow of the water, while above them shone the gentle sunlight of the warm afternoon. It was the most at peace that Gustave had felt in a longtime.

He thought to himself that it was such a strong happiness that nothing could ever tarnish it, not even when he remembered that he had to get ready for dinner that same night with Emma and Zola Lebrun.

For now, he tucked himself closer into Verso's arms. Love had its reasons that twin sisters could not understand.

He felt Verso press a kiss into his hair.

What a lovely afternoon.