Basil, Gus decided, wasn’t a fan of tender kisses. Every time he’d tried to initiate something chaste and sweet, he was turning it into something more – not that he minded at all because he returned the urgency without a second thought in his head. It was all he wanted, generally, but today his heart just wasn’t in it, not with so many other thoughts rushing and swirling around his head, so when Basil broke the kiss and forced space between them, the redhead inclined his head before he grinned sheepishly. It was what he needed right now.
Clearing his throat, Gus tossed a look at the closed door before he turned his gaze back toward Basil. “Yeah. But, before we go. I want… Well, I think…” He trailed off, unsure of where he wanted to go with that thought; he wanted to hear the full story of Edmund and Fig, but that wasn’t something he wanted to focus on today. Gus let go of the man’s waist as he stepped back, his hands instantly shifting to his neck to fiddle with the ends of a scarf that didn’t exist, so instead he rubbed the cravat fabric between his fingers, finding it much softer than the scarf had ever been. He resisted the urge to stick his finger between the fabric and his neck to pull it away – sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breathe in this stuffy outfit – but Basil would fuss over him if he did.
“I think the tea is probably done.” He reached forward to take his hand once more, and laced their fingers together as he tugged him toward the door. There, Gus squeezed it before he let go, lest people had showed up in the small span of time they’d been upstairs. His fingers wrapped around the handle before he turned back toward Basil, wearing a small frown. “Is Edmund a good person?” He finally asked quietly, curiosity getting the better of him. It wasn’t like he was going to go out of his way to do anything if Basil said no, but part of him worried just what kind of man she’d married.
His frown deepened. “No, you know what? Never mind. I’m sorry. That was a dumb question to ask.” Then he twisted the doorknob.
Basil Foxwood
Clearing his throat, Gus tossed a look at the closed door before he turned his gaze back toward Basil. “Yeah. But, before we go. I want… Well, I think…” He trailed off, unsure of where he wanted to go with that thought; he wanted to hear the full story of Edmund and Fig, but that wasn’t something he wanted to focus on today. Gus let go of the man’s waist as he stepped back, his hands instantly shifting to his neck to fiddle with the ends of a scarf that didn’t exist, so instead he rubbed the cravat fabric between his fingers, finding it much softer than the scarf had ever been. He resisted the urge to stick his finger between the fabric and his neck to pull it away – sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breathe in this stuffy outfit – but Basil would fuss over him if he did.
“I think the tea is probably done.” He reached forward to take his hand once more, and laced their fingers together as he tugged him toward the door. There, Gus squeezed it before he let go, lest people had showed up in the small span of time they’d been upstairs. His fingers wrapped around the handle before he turned back toward Basil, wearing a small frown. “Is Edmund a good person?” He finally asked quietly, curiosity getting the better of him. It wasn’t like he was going to go out of his way to do anything if Basil said no, but part of him worried just what kind of man she’d married.
His frown deepened. “No, you know what? Never mind. I’m sorry. That was a dumb question to ask.” Then he twisted the doorknob.
Basil Foxwood
![[Image: UkiVTG8.png]](https://i.imgur.com/UkiVTG8.png)