Chapter Text
“Gustave Dessendre? Really?” The man in question looked up from his travel documents to glare at his husband.
“What?” Verso asked innocently. “You needed a last name for the legalities. I happened to have one available.”
“You know how I feel about your family.”
“You are my family, Gustave,” Verso corrected as he gently tugged the papers out of his husband’s hands, replacing them with his body. “And I want everyone to know it,” he added with a grin.
Gustave didn’t have it in him to refuse the kiss. To refuse this man anything, in truth. That’s why they were packing up to spend the summer holidays outside the cozy little universe they’d fought so hard for, visiting the Dessendres at their new villa in the south of France.
“I thought we were supposed to be keeping our relationship quiet out there,” Gustave countered when they came up for air. Apparently men only married women and vice versa in this so-called “real” world. Yet another thing that made absolutely no sense to Gustave. Seriously, who cares?
Verso rolled his eyes. “I’m not suggesting we have sex in front of their Not-Crooked Tower, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the next few weeks sneaking into your bedroom at night like a teenager.”
“I don’t know, that could be kind of hot,” Gustave replied with a grin of his own. “Would you climb a tree up to my second floor window after I’d been grounded?”
“Only if you’d visit me in the hospital after I fell and broke my arm.”
“I’d even sign your cast,” Gustave whispered into Verso’s ear as he pressed against him, and began kissing down his neck.
“Oh, that’s- unhhh, we’re supposed to be packing,” Verso ground out as he tightened his arms around Gustave.
“You opened this door. How many times have I told you not to start something you can’t finish?” Gustave had his hands under Verso’s shirt by this point.
“Oh, I can definitely finish it!” Gustave yelped and laughed as Verso picked him up in a fireman’s carry and hauled him down the hallway.
“What are you two doing here?” the young woman behind the desk demanded when Gustave and Verso stepped through the portal. Valerie, Gustave remembered. Would’ve been a 31. The dusty manor bedroom that had once held their Canvas had been transformed into a bright reception area. “I have Lune and Maelle leaving today, you’re not on my list until next week!”
Gustave sighed while Verso yawned. “We traded. I guess they still had papers to grade, or something? So now it’s us today, and them next week.” Valerie scowled, and Gustave bit back a groan. It was too early for this. They’d had to get up before dawn to finish packing, after they’d utterly failed to do so last night.
“I can’t just-“
“Yes, you can,” Verso interrupted, leaning over the desk. “You just draw a line through their names here-“ he pointed, “-and write our names, then you do the opposite down here. See? Easy.”
Gustave could see the young expeditioner itching to bury a dagger in Verso’s throat, so he added soothingly, “We’ve got all our documents and tickets here, and we even informed the Council of the change.” At least, he’d informed Emma, but same thing. “It’ll be fine.”
“Bastien won’t like it.”
“Bastien can get over it.”
Valerie glared at them for a few more seconds, then sighed and waved them through. “You can exchange money in the office next door, and the local staff out front can arrange transport to the train station. Enjoy your trip,” she finished in a tone that said she hoped their train derailed right out of the station.
They gathered up their bags and headed out into the hallway. Even this early, they could hear the low din of conversation from the crowd on the first floor, making inquiries and sorting out deliveries. They bypassed the area, heading straight for the foyer, though Gustave paused on the way down to grab a travel brochure.
Verso negotiated for a hansom cab, and soon they were on their way to the Gare du Nord. They’d drop off their bags at the station, then explore the city for a few hours before their train south left that night. Gustave was torn between his brochure and the view out the window for the whole drive, and Verso was enjoying his excitement.
“Anything interesting in there?” he asked, nodding at the booklet.
“Well, this Grand Palais looks pretty neat. This says it has a 240 meter long iron, steel and glass barrel-vaulted roof. That’s got to be a sight to see. It’s a…oh.” Gustave frowned, and Verso tried not to laugh. “It’s a ‘monument dedicated by the Republic to the glory of French art.’”
“Yeah. The Painters Council commissioned it as an exhibition space a few years ago. Sorry.”
“Fucking Painters. Can’t get away from them.”
“Not in this city.” Verso clasped his shoulder consolingly. “You might like the Louvre. At least all the art there’s old. Some of it by a few thousand years. No Dessendres there.”
“Maybe. I guess it might be nice to learn some of the history we lost in the Fracture.” Gustave sighed. “Not that it’s technically our history.”
Verso slid his arm around Gustave and pulled him closer. “We could always just wander around, find a few old bookshops, drink wine at a cafe on the Seine…” He buried his nose in his husband’s brown curls.
Gustave lifted his face up with a raised eyebrow. “Why does that sound like a date you’ve been on before?”
Verso smiled and replied, “But never with someone I was desperately in love with.” He leaned forward to brush Gustave’s lips with his own.
“Nice save.” Gustave slid his metal arm into Verso’s hair to deepen the kiss, and entirely forgot about the rest of the city until the cab rolled to a stop in front of the train station.
They broke apart with a sigh, and climbed out of the cab. Verso paid the driver, while Gustave stared at the building in front of them.
“That’s…wow. That is so much bigger than Monoco’s Station.”
Verso grinned. “That was just the station for a little hamlet in the mountains.”
“I see that now, yeah.”
“Stop gaping like a fish, or people will think I married a country bumpkin.” That earned Verso a glare, and Gustave grabbed his bags and set off inside. Verso followed with a chuckle.
The interior of the building was no better. “Look at those pillars, Verso! I don’t think we have that much iron on the whole Continent.”
“Come on, the luggage office is over this way.”
“Wait just a minute, will you, I just want to…” Gustave set his suitcase down and reached into his satchel for a notebook and pencil. Verso sighed fondly, gathered up all their bags, and left Gustave in his fog of engineering bliss.
Eventually, Gustave put away his notebook and said, “All right, now we can… Verso?” He realized he was alone, and his bag was gone. He spun around in a panic, only to spot Verso smirking at him from nearby bench. He blushed, and glared.
“I’ve already taken care of the bags. Are you ready to see the rest of the city now, or do you just want to stay here all day?”
“No, we can go,” Gustave muttered as he turned and headed back toward the entrance. Verso jogged to catch up and slung an arm around his shoulders.
“Don’t be mad! You’re adorable, and I love you.” Verso emphasized his point with a kiss on the cheek, and Gustave rolled his eyes.
Once outside, Verso began scanning for another cab. There were a few hansoms around, with horses swishing their tails at flies, but then… Oh, Gustave will love this! Verso waved the driver over and secured passage to the Louvre, before discovering Gustave had wandered off. He really needed to get a leash. His husband had absolutely no self-preservation instincts when he was curious about something.
He surveyed the crowd, then caught a glimpse of light reflected off a metal arm back at the station’s entrance. Verso told the driver to wait while he went to collect his spouse.
“Gustave? Are you coming?”
“I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go to the Grand Palais after all.” He pointed at the poster he’d found, advertising the Exposition Internationale de La Locomotion Aérienne. It featured a winged craft soaring over a glass-roofed building. Verso felt a slow smile spreading across his face, matching the one Gustave already wore.
“I’ve got another surprise for you as well. Come on.” Verso grabbed Gustave’s hand and towed him back to the road. There, they beheld a red vehicle with bright yellow wheels, with an open front seat for the driver, and enclosed back seat for the passengers. And not a single horse.
“A car?! Verso, you are the best husband.”
“I know.”
“Off to the Louvre, then?” the driver asked.
“No, we’ve decided on the Grand Palais instead,” Verso answered.
“Ah, the air show. I hear it’s quite a sight!”
Verso slid into the backseat next to Gustave, who was practically vibrating with excitement. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Verso couldn’t help but smile back.
Gustave was glued to the window for this drive as well. After about ten minutes, he sat up straighter. “Wait. I know where we are! Just up there is-“
“The Opera House,” Verso finished as the imposing facade emerged from the surrounding buildings.
“And it’s…gilded. That’s a bit ostentatious.” Verso laughed as Gustave wrinkled his nose with distaste.
“Ours used to be too, you know.”
Gustave waved this off as he leaned across Verso to stare out the opposite window. “And our island drops off right here. We don’t have any of these buildings. This is so strange. I wonder if our apartment’s out there, with someone else living in it?”
“Let’s not find out. This is weird enough as is.”
Gustave tilted his head and looked at Verso, suddenly concerned. “I’m sorry, mon amour, I didn’t think. This must be hard for you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Verso reassured him, taking his hand. “It’s not nearly as disorienting as it would have been before. I’m not about to forget who I am, or where we are this time. And once we get to Nice, everything will be new.”
“Still, you had at least a few years in our world, before the Fracture. Being here must remind you of that.”
“It does, but… I’m finally happy again.” He brought their clasped hands up to his lips for a kiss. “So it doesn’t hurt so much to remember now.”
“Good.” Gustave wanted to pull Verso against him, but there was a window in front of them as well as to either side in this vehicle, so he settled for carding his fingers through his hair as their taxi arrived at the Grand Palais.
They stepped out and made their way through the imposing marble facade. Gustave stopped and stared at a large statue in pride of place just inside. It was made up twisting, angular and misshapen figures that were nonetheless strangely familiar. “Are those…”
“Yeah. Clea’s work.”
Gustave sighed, then drew himself up. “No, I’m not letting them ruin this for me. Lumiere hasn’t had airships since the 78s stole the last ones for their expedition, and I’ve never seen one. We’re doing this.” They strode past the unsettling statue and into the hall beyond.
The balloons of dirigibles floated high over their heads, just under the elegant glass ceiling several floors above them. Closer at hand, though, were a number of smaller machines. Gustave ran up to the first one. “Look, Verso! They have aircraft powered by engines! And, oh, they’ve actually flown them! We knew it was possible, of course, I think every engineer in Lumiere has had a design they’re secretly working on, but we could never test them, what with the dome, and the fucking Serpenphare.” Gustave was already digging through his satchel for his notebook.
“Eh.” Verso looked unimpressed. “Trains are better.”
“We have room in our hearts for all kinds of motor vehicles, cherí,” Gustave admonished, before he made his way deeper into the crowd. Verso stopped trying to hide his smile as he followed.
A few hours later, Verso had to physically extract Gustave from a conversation with Louis Renault about ways that pictos could enhance engine functionality and efficiency, so they could have a meal before they had to head back to the train station. “Send me the schematics, I’ll play around with a few designs!” Gustave called over his shoulder as Verso dragged him off. “Isn’t there supposed to be food on the train?”
“Not until 8 or 9 tonight, and you barely ate breakfast this morning. You can’t survive on engine schematics alone.”
“Fine.” He allowed Verso to lead him across the street to a little bistro on the river. They ordered a late lunch with a bottle of rosé, and Verso told Gustave about the wines of the Continent, while Gustave talked about pictos and engines.
“Obviously French wines are the best, but Italy can be an acceptable alternative, at least for some years, and every now and then Germany manages a halfway decent white-“
“I don’t know if we could ever create pictos that would allow an engine to run solely on chroma out here, like they do in our world, there just isn’t that concentration of chroma, so it’s a matter of-“
“Verso? Verso Dessendre?”
Verso had already looked up before he could stop himself. A group of young men was approaching them from across the street, led by an absurdly tall man with long blonde hair pulled back. He was much less muscular than his Canvas counterpart had been though. Verso felt his throat tighten. “Simon?”
“I thought you were supposed to be dead!” Verso was pulled up into a back-slapping embrace before he could react.
“I’m not- That’s- He is dead,” Verso finally managed as he extracted himself. “I’m not him.” He cleared his throat and managed a tight smile. “I go by Gabriel.”
Simon appeared completely flummoxed. “But you look just like him!”
Gustave wasn’t sure what to do in the awkward pause that followed. He wanted to embrace Verso, or at least put an arm around him for support, but he remembered Clea’s warning, and didn’t know what would be appropriate.
Fortunately, as he was standing, he saw realization physically dawn across the other man’s face. “Oh, I get it! You must be the other one! Right out of a Canvas, huh?”
“Uh, right-“ Verso started, before he was interrupted by one of Simon’s followers.
“Hey, how come none of your beauties have ever wandered out of a Canvas before, Simon? I’d really like to get my hands on a few of them!” The others guffawed, and Gustave and Verso traded a look.
“Anyway,” Verso said, trying to prevent the conversation from getting out of control, “this is Gustave, New Lumiere’s chief engineer.”
“Wow, you have engineers there!” Simon exclaimed as he shook Gustave’s hand. “Welcome to the real Lumiere,” he said loudly and slowly. Gustave blinked at him, and looked at Verso. He responded with the tiniest shrug.
“Well, we have a train to catch, so-“
“Oh, you must be on the Méditerranée Express! Heading down for Madame Dessendre’s big celebration, I take it? I’ll be heading down there in a few days as well. Hey, fair warning,” he added, reaching out clasp Verso’s shoulder. “You’re new to this crowd, and a brand new Dessendre. They’ll be throwing every one of their daughters at you, and probably a few maiden aunts as well!” Simon chuckled. “I wouldn’t want you to get shackled when you just started to live!”
“He’s already married!” Gustave snapped, and Verso suppressed a smile.
He raised his left hand to display the ring. “It’s true.”
“Aww, good for you! Left the wife at home, I see. Little taste of freedom, huh? That’s what Frédéric here needs!” Gustave thought poor Frédéric looked chagrined at Simon’s lack of discretion. “He married a this rich American, daddy’s little girl, and he controls the purse strings. He can’t even afford to keep his mistress, while his wife’s out gallivanting with another man! We’re consoling him tonight, want to join?”
“Unfortunately, we have the, uh, the train-“
“Yes, and it’s getting late, V- Gabriel, we really should be getting back to the station,” Gustave added.
“Oh, right, you just said that, and I forgot!” Simon laughed. “You two have a good trip, and I’ll see you at the party!” The group wandered off while Verso scrambled to pay the bill before they decided to come back, and Gustave flagged down the first cab he saw. He wasn’t willing to risk waiting for a car this time, so they climbed into the back of a carriage.
Gustave couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as the door closed, he burst out, “What the fuck, Verso?!” His husband couldn’t catch his breath to respond in between his peals of laughter. “You know that guy?!”
“I knew a version of that guy,” Verso said, finally catching his breath. “He was my best friend, actually.”
“Oh.” Gustave sobered. “Well, he was…nice, I guess…”
Verso looked at him incredulously. “He wasn’t like that!”
“Oh thank goodness!” Gustave let out in a rush, and Verso started laughing again. “I’d have made an effort if it was important to you, but wow, Verso! Just, wow.” They kept laughing as the carriage set off for the station.