[ He chokes out an unsteady laugh in response to that, knowing that it's the same for him. They're both too greedy for each other, to a point of it being almost a problem, yet here they are, indulging in each other as soon as possible when given the opportunity. Ignis is too hungry for him to feel guilty for it, soaking in the sensation of teeth against his skin, kisses and bites returned just as eagerly as he's given them. He'd never worried about something like stamina, or whether or not he lasts long enough before - they'd known each others bodies so well and had sex often enough that it wasn't a concern and if one of them did manage to make the other come sooner, well, it was a point of pride at that point, wasn't it?
Now, though, it's been too long since he's been intimate with anyone, even Aranea, or Gladiolus, or anyone else. He'd spent time with her intermittently, but a good portion of the time he'd gotten her off and waved off her offer to return the favor; he hadn't wanted sex, he'd wanted to belong, wanted duty and obligation, wanted some reason to push forward. He'd wanted the quiet moments after, when she'd stretched out in bed and he could curve himself around her and not think for a while. It hadn't ever compared to this. A thousand moments like that, and he'd give them all up for just a kiss from Noctis, for better or worse.
Noctis' hand tightens on his shoulder and then -- then he pulls back and Ignis' head falls back against the cold tile, resisting the urge to make a protesting noise because there's no reason he'd pull away unless he had a better idea, he knows that. Patience, he tells himself, choking out a groan when he realizes just what Noctis' intent is. The noise dragged out of Ignis is ragged, shocked, torn between a moan and a bastardized version of Noctis' name as he's swallowed down in one smooth go. It's a sight he'd seen before so it's not new but that was ages ago and Ignis hears his own voice in his head, mocking greedy. He is, though, greedy for anything, everything he's given from Noctis. One hand goes to Noctis' forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way, trying to make sure water doesn't get in his eyes even now with that last bit of his mind that he has and the other smacks against the wet tile to resist jerking at him, pulling him too hard. A few more jerky, uneven thrusts and then he's done, the heat building up and spilling in rush that steals the breath out of him, keeps him from doing more than digging blunt nails into the shower stall, gasping raggedly for breath. When it's done, he trembles through the aftershocks and strokes his fingers across Noctis' cheek, tucking damp hair behind his ear. ]
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Now, though, it's been too long since he's been intimate with anyone, even Aranea, or Gladiolus, or anyone else. He'd spent time with her intermittently, but a good portion of the time he'd gotten her off and waved off her offer to return the favor; he hadn't wanted sex, he'd wanted to belong, wanted duty and obligation, wanted some reason to push forward. He'd wanted the quiet moments after, when she'd stretched out in bed and he could curve himself around her and not think for a while. It hadn't ever compared to this. A thousand moments like that, and he'd give them all up for just a kiss from Noctis, for better or worse.
Noctis' hand tightens on his shoulder and then -- then he pulls back and Ignis' head falls back against the cold tile, resisting the urge to make a protesting noise because there's no reason he'd pull away unless he had a better idea, he knows that. Patience, he tells himself, choking out a groan when he realizes just what Noctis' intent is. The noise dragged out of Ignis is ragged, shocked, torn between a moan and a bastardized version of Noctis' name as he's swallowed down in one smooth go. It's a sight he'd seen before so it's not new but that was ages ago and Ignis hears his own voice in his head, mocking greedy. He is, though, greedy for anything, everything he's given from Noctis. One hand goes to Noctis' forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way, trying to make sure water doesn't get in his eyes even now with that last bit of his mind that he has and the other smacks against the wet tile to resist jerking at him, pulling him too hard. A few more jerky, uneven thrusts and then he's done, the heat building up and spilling in rush that steals the breath out of him, keeps him from doing more than digging blunt nails into the shower stall, gasping raggedly for breath. When it's done, he trembles through the aftershocks and strokes his fingers across Noctis' cheek, tucking damp hair behind his ear. ]
Six, but I love you so much, Noct.