[ His fingers curl, briefly, adjusting his hold on Noctis like Noctis adjusts his hold on him, forcing the bend to his elbow when he crashes down into the first thrust. It's not a long plummet, posed as inches instead of miles. Ignis learns, and relearns; he sees Noct's mouth ebb into a sharp arc of a grin, then sees through it. (And it's maddening, leaving him wry under the strain of that gaze, and those eyes, and that heart, all slicing him open to something undone. He's the one coming apart. His back's relenting to arch just so, telegraphing every ounce of his intent.)
One failed attempt at subtlety, and now he's never going to live it down. Ignis gasps, a low sound, when Noctis bends his knees, limbs loose, and steadies him. A minute passes. He's thinking about the drop of sweat perilously running down the slope of his cheek, drawn out like any tear. Noct's reaching ferociously for him, spitfire and challenging, grappling down his spinal cord, then his ass.
And Ignis laughs, indulgent. All of his infatuation shines in his throat. Too much. Too much. Noct would've been better with someone who could match that teetering absorption in him; Ignis has no talent for love, he's not daring enough. Fortune favors the bold, and he's chronic with his scruples.
But he's rising to the challenge, because that's all that can be done. His knuckles momentarily rasp on the bones of Noctis's ribs as he stills just to admire him, grinding and sweet. ]
Beautiful.
[ Years of pondering Noct and squashing down that pining for him have rendered him inarticulate. Let him amend that, shaking his head when he resumes the pace, the next thrust steady and clean as any cut. His breath is lost in a wash of sighing, words coming up in startled fits, clouding up like steam. ]
I loathed it. You know that better than anyone. [ Especially later when he'll do laundry and contend with the potential for stains, salvaging what he's destroyed. Ignis inhales, hummingbird-quick, then loosens, slowly, then all at once, mouth draped over his throat, thrusts taking a turn for the severe. ] But I've got an appetite for ruining you that I can't seem to satiate.
[ Noncommittal, though, even with the thrum of Noctis's body enfolding him like one overlong heartbeat, jumpstarting pulses of heat in his groin. ]
I love you. I love you so much I can scarcely wrap my mind around it.
[ And isn't that affection, shaped like Noctis's hand on his cheek, eloping with all of his common sense and decency. ]
[ There's a reason why people shouldn't talk during sex -- all good sense goes out the window and all that's left is good-natured babbling, with Noctis more than anyone else. Ignis looks at him like he's a work of art, but he knows he's unworthy of such regard; the man is elegant, sleek and graceful, consuming him like a panther with prey, and Noctis, unwieldy and too eager, all sharp angles and rough corners, approaching this like he approaches a fight.
After all, there's not all that much difference when it comes to fighting and fucking, and so on. Far from inarticulate, Ignis seems to pull the requisite measure of seduction out his ass, rendering Noctis hapless to his charms all the same. He meets him halfway, enveloping Ignis into the clasp of his body, and he arches his neck to reveal his throat, feeling the heat of his lips against his pulse.
Oh, it's delicious, how Ignis fits so beautifully against him, in him, that his gasps punctuate every sleek, glorious thrust, filling him up and making his toes curl. He ruins him, of course he does; with every word, with every kiss, the prince forgets himself, giving himself over to Ignis, to press his heart against his own and to confess his own love in ragged whispers. He's leaning up to kiss him fully, guiding him to his lips as he presses his forehead to his helplessly. ]
Mnngh -- please...
[ So sweet, too sweet; oh, he will drown in him. ]
[ All the shrewdness in him bleeds out at once. Ignis can't help it, gutted first by that proprietary holdβ Noctis's iron-clad grip, spiking up to clutch and take him even furtherβ and then that guilelessness when running his resolve raw when he's met mid-thrust. Crushed fingers are a nascent possibility he doesn't bother entertaining even when he's tucked them to cradle around Noctis's lower back, tucked underneath his ribs and the sheer fabric spread thin over it. Sense-touch, while he's slouching low like he's in his death throes, coasting over mortality like he's coasting down Noct's throat with his lips.
The despicable man that Ignis is, the smile he affords that bared throat is tangibly felt when he's pressing his mouth so ardently, parodying so much of his fondly terrible humor. This is who you have to live with, your Highness. The happiness in him is climbing to absurd levels and only careening from there. It's only a free-fall from here on out. There's no doubting where Ignis's allegiance lies with the heavy affront of a kiss on his Adam's apple, legs braced either side of him. ]
You're lovelier than I can put to words. I absolutely detest it.
[ Of course. Feigning polite abhorrence won't keep Noctis from exploiting this loophole the next time he's gone and left his room in disarray. Averse to common sense, Ignis doesn't retreat when the warmth goes rampant, Noctis fit about him and clenching to snare, and his breathing cuts down to ribbons.
Inevitably, it's sweet. That alone is an unbelievably perverse thought to entertain when his dick's grinding against Noctis on every plunge forward, adrenaline on the rise. His mouth's impaired with the salt on Noct's skin, voice coming out thick and blurry on the next downswing. ]
Noctis. Don't look away. Keep your eyes trained on me.
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no subject
One failed attempt at subtlety, and now he's never going to live it down. Ignis gasps, a low sound, when Noctis bends his knees, limbs loose, and steadies him. A minute passes. He's thinking about the drop of sweat perilously running down the slope of his cheek, drawn out like any tear. Noct's reaching ferociously for him, spitfire and challenging, grappling down his spinal cord, then his ass.
And Ignis laughs, indulgent. All of his infatuation shines in his throat. Too much. Too much. Noct would've been better with someone who could match that teetering absorption in him; Ignis has no talent for love, he's not daring enough. Fortune favors the bold, and he's chronic with his scruples.
But he's rising to the challenge, because that's all that can be done. His knuckles momentarily rasp on the bones of Noctis's ribs as he stills just to admire him, grinding and sweet. ]
Beautiful.
[ Years of pondering Noct and squashing down that pining for him have rendered him inarticulate. Let him amend that, shaking his head when he resumes the pace, the next thrust steady and clean as any cut. His breath is lost in a wash of sighing, words coming up in startled fits, clouding up like steam. ]
I loathed it. You know that better than anyone. [ Especially later when he'll do laundry and contend with the potential for stains, salvaging what he's destroyed. Ignis inhales, hummingbird-quick, then loosens, slowly, then all at once, mouth draped over his throat, thrusts taking a turn for the severe. ] But I've got an appetite for ruining you that I can't seem to satiate.
[ Noncommittal, though, even with the thrum of Noctis's body enfolding him like one overlong heartbeat, jumpstarting pulses of heat in his groin. ]
I love you. I love you so much I can scarcely wrap my mind around it.
[ And isn't that affection, shaped like Noctis's hand on his cheek, eloping with all of his common sense and decency. ]
no subject
[ There's a reason why people shouldn't talk during sex -- all good sense goes out the window and all that's left is good-natured babbling, with Noctis more than anyone else. Ignis looks at him like he's a work of art, but he knows he's unworthy of such regard; the man is elegant, sleek and graceful, consuming him like a panther with prey, and Noctis, unwieldy and too eager, all sharp angles and rough corners, approaching this like he approaches a fight.
After all, there's not all that much difference when it comes to fighting and fucking, and so on. Far from inarticulate, Ignis seems to pull the requisite measure of seduction out his ass, rendering Noctis hapless to his charms all the same. He meets him halfway, enveloping Ignis into the clasp of his body, and he arches his neck to reveal his throat, feeling the heat of his lips against his pulse.
Oh, it's delicious, how Ignis fits so beautifully against him, in him, that his gasps punctuate every sleek, glorious thrust, filling him up and making his toes curl. He ruins him, of course he does; with every word, with every kiss, the prince forgets himself, giving himself over to Ignis, to press his heart against his own and to confess his own love in ragged whispers. He's leaning up to kiss him fully, guiding him to his lips as he presses his forehead to his helplessly. ]
Mnngh -- please...
[ So sweet, too sweet; oh, he will drown in him. ]
no subject
The despicable man that Ignis is, the smile he affords that bared throat is tangibly felt when he's pressing his mouth so ardently, parodying so much of his fondly terrible humor. This is who you have to live with, your Highness. The happiness in him is climbing to absurd levels and only careening from there. It's only a free-fall from here on out. There's no doubting where Ignis's allegiance lies with the heavy affront of a kiss on his Adam's apple, legs braced either side of him. ]
You're lovelier than I can put to words. I absolutely detest it.
[ Of course. Feigning polite abhorrence won't keep Noctis from exploiting this loophole the next time he's gone and left his room in disarray. Averse to common sense, Ignis doesn't retreat when the warmth goes rampant, Noctis fit about him and clenching to snare, and his breathing cuts down to ribbons.
Inevitably, it's sweet. That alone is an unbelievably perverse thought to entertain when his dick's grinding against Noctis on every plunge forward, adrenaline on the rise. His mouth's impaired with the salt on Noct's skin, voice coming out thick and blurry on the next downswing. ]
Noctis. Don't look away. Keep your eyes trained on me.