His Majesty also knows you think he's awfully cute, too.
[ Because Noctis might be ten years older but it doesn't mean he can't be a brat at Ignis whenever he wants in private just like this, all levity and none of the business-like fronts they will have to put up once they leave his chambers. Ignis is softer, gentler in a way he cannot afford to be outside of these walls -- he commands the respect of so many within the Citadel through sheer intelligence, hard work, and incredible planning, and Noctis is hard pressed to say that he doesn't find that hot. Just like how hot he finds himself being so easily cornered by his taller, stunningly handsome lover with a plug up his butt, breath caught by the way he kisses him like the world's ending, hot and desperate and awakening things that should, for all intents and purposes, should still be spent.
But he's thirty, his libido is functioning, and he lusts for his fiance like he hasn't had any in decades, like he's angling to make up for lost time, and it makes things just a little hard. Breathing a little harder, he makes a soft sound of annoyance when he's reaching out for the towel. Tempted to just kiss him again, he simply reaches for the soap bottle as well, and this time starting with his chest and stomach after Ignis is done with his arms, because he'd be damned if he can't cop plenty of feels for himself while soaping him up. ]
Bring it. [ He tells him brashly, very aware that he'll be regretting this very soon but unable to resist egging him on anyway. He's giving him a wicked look from behind damp eyelashes, because self-preservation is apparently not in his dictionary. ] Think you can last that long, honey?
no subject
[ Because Noctis might be ten years older but it doesn't mean he can't be a brat at Ignis whenever he wants in private just like this, all levity and none of the business-like fronts they will have to put up once they leave his chambers. Ignis is softer, gentler in a way he cannot afford to be outside of these walls -- he commands the respect of so many within the Citadel through sheer intelligence, hard work, and incredible planning, and Noctis is hard pressed to say that he doesn't find that hot. Just like how hot he finds himself being so easily cornered by his taller, stunningly handsome lover with a plug up his butt, breath caught by the way he kisses him like the world's ending, hot and desperate and awakening things that should, for all intents and purposes, should still be spent.
But he's thirty, his libido is functioning, and he lusts for his fiance like he hasn't had any in decades, like he's angling to make up for lost time, and it makes things just a little hard. Breathing a little harder, he makes a soft sound of annoyance when he's reaching out for the towel. Tempted to just kiss him again, he simply reaches for the soap bottle as well, and this time starting with his chest and stomach after Ignis is done with his arms, because he'd be damned if he can't cop plenty of feels for himself while soaping him up. ]
Bring it. [ He tells him brashly, very aware that he'll be regretting this very soon but unable to resist egging him on anyway. He's giving him a wicked look from behind damp eyelashes, because self-preservation is apparently not in his dictionary. ] Think you can last that long, honey?