Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ma princesse.” Verso gasped into Gustave’s throat, raspy and ruined, hands trembling on Gustave’s thighs, grasping hard enough to leave loving marks, “Mon ange, ma chère at tendre, ma douce chèrie, mon bonheur…”

Verso’s voice was wrecked, his eyes teary, his heart pounding like the wings of a caged bird. He was falling apart at the seams, buried in Gustave’s tight heat, trembling with devotion, dizzy with the scent of leather and roses, panting with the effort of holding himself together when ruinous pleasure threatened to unravel him. The world around them didn’t exist, nothing existed except the two of them, alone in their little curtained-off sanctuary. There was only Verso’s arms holding Gustave close, supporting his weight securely against the wall. Only Gustave’s powerful legs wrapped around Verso’s waist, clad in silken stockings damp with sweat. Only the skirts of Gustave’s beautiful dress hiked around his hips, giving Verso eager access to the holy treasure hidden beneath. 

He was perfect. He was perfect, and Verso was weak and low and unworthy to even look upon him. To lay his pitiful eyes on Gustave was akin to casting dirt on the statue of David, but for some unfathomable reason, this divine creature had deigned to grace Verso with his attention, his love. Verso couldn’t understand it, but he was determined to properly honor the precious gift he’d been given, devoting himself to Gustave with a Dionysian mania that bordered on delirium, and oh how richly rewarded he was. In the crimson of his voluminous dress, Gustave was Aphrodite made flesh, with fragrant red flowers nestled sweetly in his chocolate curls, clinging fabric caressing muscled arms like a possessive lover, rosy silk falling coyly around his lithe waist, a neckline of lace dipping low and teasing, baring the hirsute swell of his firm chest. 

It was enough to drive a man mad. 

“I love you.” Verso whispered, pressing a fervent kiss to Gustave’s throat, lavishing sun-kissed flesh with a greedy tongue and insatiable lips, “I love you, I love you so much, you’re everything…”

“Verso.” Gustave breathed low and sweet, that unworthy name falling from kiss-red lips like purest nectar, “So thick and warm… ah… deeper, oh, please…” And Verso was a slave to him, helpless against the sweet pleas of his angel, his love, his god. He obliged, his weeping cock sliding deeper in a way that made his legs wobble, the silky wet drag of Gustave’s inner muscles pulling a groan that tapered into a wretched sob as Gustave’s breath hitched and those beautiful brown eyes fluttered, all his wit and cynicism melted away in favor of mindless pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful.” Verso couldn’t stop the tears streaking down his face, the hitch in his breath, the spinning of his dizzied head, “God, god, you’re so fucking beautiful, Gustave. I’m not worthy to even say your name.” Gustave moaned desperately, nimble fingers lacing behind Verso’s neck to bring him down for a kiss that made his vision go starry.

“But I like when you say my name.” Gustave breathed, tightening around him and smiling when Verso sobbed again, “God, look at you… all this, for me?”

“For you, for you, all for you.” Verso babbled, crying pathetically now, clinging to Gustave and pumping his hips mindlessly, pleasure and devotion reducing his mind to blissful slush, “Everything for you, I’m yours, all of me. Angel, incubus, siren, Gustave…”

“Fuck, Verso.” Gustave whined, arching to press their bodies still closer together, melting into the fervent kisses Verso pressed to his heated flesh, “You love me?”

“So much.” Verso whined, mouthing wetly at his throat, their hearts pounding against one another, as if they wished to break free of their feverish bodies and merge into one, “Beyond description. Worship- I worship you, Gustave, my… my…”

“Yours.” Gustave whispered, and Verso felt pleasure like a punch in the gut, hips snapping mindlessly as Gustave’s lips traced the shell of his ear, warm breath ghosting over sensitive flesh as he breathed, “Come in me, Verso. Come inside me, deep and warm, make me your wife…”

Devastation. Verso never stood a chance. Release struck him with the sudden heat of a lightning bolt, reducing a once proud man to a quivering mess of whines and sobs as he helplessly poured his meager offerings into Gustave’s slick heat, filling him with proof of his endless unslakable devotion as his angel fell apart at the feeling of being loved so madly. Gustave’s moan stole the breath from Verso’s lungs, the answering tightness as his own climax swept through him making Verso’s ears ring, the vision he made as he trembled and cried out Verso’s name making the world spin dangerously, Verso’s breath coming in concerningly shallow pants as Gustave’s release stained the beautiful red of his dress, like clouds against a sunset sky. 

Verso held him, warm and safe and sated, and beheld his divine glow with a fixation that threatened to tip into obsession, but Gustave didn’t mind. He never did. He accepted everything Verso had to give and more, even the ugly parts, even the parts that his own family pretended didn’t exist. He wanted everything Verso had to offer, and he treasured everything Verso gave him with the reverent care of a holy relic. 

“I love you.” Verso croaked, watching raptly as Gustave slowly came down from his high, those lovely lips curling up fondly, adoringly.

“Mm, say it again, mon chèri.” he sighed happily, and Verso did just that, repeating it until his throat was sore, reinforcing it until his bones were jelly and his hips ached and his cock went numb from overuse.

Anything for Gustave. Anything for his god.