[ In me, in me, he says, and Ignis makes his magic, weaves a spell that ensnares Noctis wholly -- and this is one of the many moments when he realizes that no one else will do, that his love, urging him on so passionately, wants him so badly that he's a writhing, clinging mess, his words wracked with passion and need. He's trembling with Noctis when he comes inside him, and Noctis finds himself lost inside of him, drunk on his lust and overwhelmed by how Ignis holds him like he's everything precious in the world.
Even now, when he's slumped against his chest, his ear pressed against the pounding of his heart, Noctis makes a soft, lazy little noise at his next words, something about fair play and turning about and there's an interesting articulation to those words that Noctis recognises with no small amount of pleasure -- it's the tone he uses when he's too proud to admit weakness, and he smiles as he kisses over his heart.
Adorable, really. ]
Mm. You sound weird. [ More to get under his skin than anything, really, because he's a little shit even if he's never been more pleased with himself after sex. He's reluctantly pulling out of him, but just as promptly reaches below him, pressing two fingers at Ignis' tight little hole, dipping in briefly -- the intent clear. He wants to keep his come inside of his lover, filthy and messy. He looks up then, resting his chin on the flat of Ignis' chest with a slow, lazy half-smirk. ]
I want you to feel that inside you all day. [ And he would be damned if he isn't turned on by the idea of it; Ignis all cleaned up and proper, his sharp-dressed, unflappable, handsome stud of a man walking around these halls with Noctis' come inside him. And besides, now isn't turnabout yet, so it means he can torment him, right?
He's kissing his chin, fond but not above doing terrible things -- he might not wring a third orgasm out of Ignis, but it's all right, there's plenty of time to try it again, wring one out of him because he knows how Ignis is hooked on the intense, overwhelming sensations that make him wild and irration. His lover has always been more partial to the overstimulating side of things, as if he's craving something more than just absolution, and Noctis is more than happy to give it to him. ]
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Even now, when he's slumped against his chest, his ear pressed against the pounding of his heart, Noctis makes a soft, lazy little noise at his next words, something about fair play and turning about and there's an interesting articulation to those words that Noctis recognises with no small amount of pleasure -- it's the tone he uses when he's too proud to admit weakness, and he smiles as he kisses over his heart.
Adorable, really. ]
Mm. You sound weird. [ More to get under his skin than anything, really, because he's a little shit even if he's never been more pleased with himself after sex. He's reluctantly pulling out of him, but just as promptly reaches below him, pressing two fingers at Ignis' tight little hole, dipping in briefly -- the intent clear. He wants to keep his come inside of his lover, filthy and messy. He looks up then, resting his chin on the flat of Ignis' chest with a slow, lazy half-smirk. ]
I want you to feel that inside you all day. [ And he would be damned if he isn't turned on by the idea of it; Ignis all cleaned up and proper, his sharp-dressed, unflappable, handsome stud of a man walking around these halls with Noctis' come inside him. And besides, now isn't turnabout yet, so it means he can torment him, right?
He's kissing his chin, fond but not above doing terrible things -- he might not wring a third orgasm out of Ignis, but it's all right, there's plenty of time to try it again, wring one out of him because he knows how Ignis is hooked on the intense, overwhelming sensations that make him wild and irration. His lover has always been more partial to the overstimulating side of things, as if he's craving something more than just absolution, and Noctis is more than happy to give it to him. ]