nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]

[ noctis misses him, every single time.

he sets a countdown when keith leaves his side to do the right thing, the heroic thing -- paladins of voltron are stalwart guardians of the universe, defenders against evil and darkness, and keith leads them. noctis understands the price that kind of obligation and duty extracts out of him and the ones he loves, and noctis is ever by his side, even if he can't be physically there.

he looks out at the stars every night, thinking he could simply sense him among them even though he knows it's impossible, that he would be out of their galaxy by now, millions of light years away. it causes him anxiety sometimes, the fear that keith would get hurt and noctis would be too far to reach him, that he could perhaps will his magic to help him, somehow. he rubs at the jeweled pendant until he fears he'd rub the stone raw even if it's impossible, quietly fretting.

those were bad days, days when noctis can hardly get a wink of sleep, running through every possible scenario in his mind. the better days, he stays awake missing him, longing set so intensely in his chest he fears he would burst from the intensity of it.

one month is a long time. one month is thirty days is seven hundred and twenty hours is two point five nine million seconds that noctis will reach out and find nothing save for memories, when keith's clandestine side of his bed grows cold and all noctis has to comfort himself is a jacket he's pilfered, the fading scent of him on the pillows.

he sleeps with the pillow, every night.

today is the day keith comes home, noctis has it marked down right to the second, and he's immediately out of the royal entourage like a shot once the hundredth meeting of the day concludes.

keith is home. keith has to be. noctis has shown him the secret passageway leading to his chambers, his private quarters high above overlooking all of insomnia, the glittering crown city of the lucian empire. never has a second stretched to an eternity when he opens and shuts the doors and crosses over to the inner sanctum, the bedroom that they share.

and there he is, like one of the many dreams that noctis has -- how can he possibly have eyes for another, when keith haunts him so, when he's the only one who has his heart? noctis is loyal, single-mindedly so; the one who has his love will have it to the end of his days, which is perhaps why ignis has never quite approved of them. one day keith could leave and never return, and take with him the prince's heart. noctis loves too much, too fiercely, soft underneath the cool veneer of dispassionate neutrality.

and here, here is the man that he loves, the one he's waited all thirty days for, and he smiles, bright as the sun as he steps in, delighted to see him again.

however -- ]

Whoa, I didn't know your hair grew that long that quickly.

[ -- he comments, coming over to him as he blinks, taking quick but thorough inventory of his boyfriend, folding up the sleeves of his own black shirt and tugging his tie loose to relax. ]

And... is it me? Did you get bigger? [ and definitely hotter. and older. his eyes go from that incredible, muscular body (he's definitely worked out) to the scars, the tattoo. his smile fades to something confused. ] That tattoo, those scars --

[ how did he change so much in just thirty days? ]

( his expression is unimaginably, impossibly soft. relieved, too, in some part of his brain - noctis remembered him, came to meet him, probably ran all the way here because he had so much faith that keith would be in here waiting for him. it's been two years and he looks exactly the same, as handsome as the day is long, dressed in his regal attire and with his eyes telling stories of earlier exhaustion, sleepless nights and bad dreams, every terrible thought that crossed him mind about keith's safety thrown promptly out the window now that he's here, now that they're both here, together again.

keith has been waiting for this moment since he kissed him goodbye two years ago. back then, he thought it was going to be a month, too. he would've lingered longer, if he knew the truth - would've kissed him more, would've said something other than jokingly telling noctis not to cry while he left. it's been ages, but he had the curves of noctis' features memorized from countless times in the past. memories of him kept keith alive more often than not, kept him safe and not as foolishly reckless as he might've otherwise been if he didn't have someone waiting for him at home.

now he's here, and he just gawks at noctis a little. exactly the same as he remembers him, but keith is older now - more war bred, more tired. an exhausted, but happy smile curves up on his lips, and he doesn't answer the question, just surges forward and wraps his arms around noctis' middle, nose pressed hard into the curve of his neck.

( he is definitely taller. before he just barely reached noctis' eyes, and now he has to hunch in order to reach him, squeezing him tightly to keith's chest. ) )

Noct ...

[ something's definitely wrong. something he can't put a finger on. he's more concerned than distressed, picking up on just about everything keith practically broadcasts. their previous reunions were intense, but never with this added layer that keith doesn't let on.

keith looks at him like he's beyond ravenous, like he's reached a whole new level and pretty much ventured into sad, like he hasn't seen him in years, not months, which makes absolutely no sense. and yet here he is, taller than him, broader than before and scarred in so many places.

his hands come to smooth over his biceps, stroking over the scars that don't seem all that fresh (and yet not old enough). noctis has never seen them before, and he trusts his own assessment; there is not one inch of keith that noctis hasn't hungrily pursued, pressed his lips to and lavished attention on.

his arms wrap around him now, holding him tight like he'd drifted too far a little too long, his own heart revving up in response to that silent distress. ]

Puppy. [ he says softly, pressing soft kisses to his ear as his eyelids flutter shut. he's breathing him in; this body hasn't known noctis, but they can fix it, later. first, noctis has to tend to everything keith keeps locked away, right in his mind. ] Are you okay?

( he needs to explain something, definitely - but in all his time spent pining, he never once thought about what he'd say to noctis whenever they were finally reunited. sorry i'm clingy, but it's been two years without you and i'm touch starved ? he almost can't think beyond the embrace they're in, shuddering as noctis holds him close and tight and just right, because he knows keith like the back of his hand, knows what he likes, how he likes to be touched. keith hasn't let anyone get close enough to let himself feel this good in so long, and it's honestly addicting, just having some body near that isn't trying to kill him, that he doesn't have to kill.

he takes a shaky breath and pulls back, nodding softly to the beat of noctis' heart. a hand cups his face, thumb running against the bone of his cheek. )

I'm okay, now.

( he hasn't realized how fucking sad he's been, how miserable he is without noctis. coming home to him is like rediscovering happiness, and keith never wants to leave again, honestly. fuck voltron. let them find a new leader. he wants to cuddle his boyfriend.

the tenderness eases up, and keith knows explanations are oncoming, so he pulls away and bullies noctis into sitting at the foot of the bed, cupping his face before sliding down onto his knees before him. )

We didn't know what we were getting into. The situation there was so bad, it was like the planet itself was at war. ( keith shrugs, staring at noctis' knees. ) It was supposed to be a quick in and out, so the time difference wouldn't have mattered. Once we got caught up in the fight ... well. One month here was two years there. That's how long it's been for me, kitten.

( an apologetic, somewhat misplace smile. )

I missed you. Bad. Real bad.

[ oh. oh.

that explains... well, that explains just about everything, and noctis' heart hurts for him. keith, his keith is the sweetest, softest boy underneath all that many defensive layers. he might come across as abrasive and intense, he might not catch pop culture references, but noctis loves him as he is; loves his courageous, heroic heart, loves just how much he feels. he knows every inch of him and adores it, and when he gets between his thighs on his knees, noctis is immediately reaching down to haul him up. ]

Keith... [ he breathes, because he shouldn't be on his knees, he shouldn't even be just like this with him. two years is one hell of a long time -- if he thought a month was torture, it's nothing compared to twenty-four times of that. he's frowning, tugging him into his arms and rolling him over onto his back once he'd gotten keith properly with him.

he's pressing his forehead to his, aching. ] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. You went without for so long, fought for so long --

[ fuck voltron, noctis never wants him to leave his side again. or maybe... maybe next time, noctis could come with him. his hand comes to cover the blade's tattoo, squeezing hard -- another change, without him. keith has gone so long without him. ]

You're here now. You're with me now. I'm gonna keep you by my side no matter what.

( he just sort of keens into him, goes where noctis places him, a willing slave to his every desire. nights are dark, but noctis is a light that keith doesn't mind following - strong arms wrapped around noctis' neck as they mold into each other. no space to determine where one of them ends and the other begins, that's exactly how keith likes it. unhinging all his internalized self-loathing, because when he's with noctis they're one in the same, and he loves noctis to bits and pieces. )

It's not your fault.

( he doesn't have to apologize. keith didn't sign up for this life, but he's also never left it - he knows exactly what the risks involved are with being the leader of the defenders of the galaxy. sacrificing is just par for the course, and he's given every inch of himself to the cause. he can give his time, too. )

I'm home, now.

( he never felt tethered to earth, without friends or family to make the place he was born in feel like home. now it's with noctis, and he carries it with him wherever he goes. homesickness has ebbed away, and with it gone, left a feeling of swollen love he didn't think he'd ever be capable of feeling again. keith's knuckles trace under noctis' jaw, lips curving up in a smirk. )

C'mon. I've waited two years to kiss you again, you gonna make me wait two more?

Maybe.

[ noctis is shaking his head at him before he presses his forehead to his, smiling when he sees that handsome, lovely face relax into his smirk. he's nuzzling into those calloused hands, his hand coming to rest over his heart, splaying over it in a reminder -- he owns this, he has this, and noctis has freely given his own to him in turn.

he's home. he's home with noctis and the meaning of that is so marvelously powerful, so intoxicating that he almost trembles under the weight of it. his keith is home -- his lone, wandering wolf has finally made a home with him, and noctis is kissing him, darting down to capture his mouth with his, passionate and wanting, pouring every ounce of his love for him into the kiss.

they're here now, and noctis will mend everything in keith that is cracked and breaking -- he will take him in his arms and love him deeply enough that the loneliness he'd endured over the past two years will be wiped away. he's kissing him again, again and again, tongue slipping into his mouth, exploring anew. he won't make him wait any longer. ]

( he'd wait them, it doesn't matter. he'd wait ten more years, if the promise of noctis was sitting at the end of that finish line. promises are all he needs - like blood oaths written in stone and stars. if noctis says he's his then that's all it takes - time won't keep them apart, and distance won't dull what the heart wants. noctis casted an irrevocable incantation on him, and now he's stuck with these hands trailing up his hips, this mouth opening up under his like a flower in bloom. keith kisses him like a man starved - like stars kiss the moonlit sky with their twinkle and winks. if he didn't eat anything in the past two years, he'd still be hungrier for noctis' mouth.

he rucks up the back of noctis' shirt, not to be titillating, but to feel the familiar burn of his skin under the palm of his hand, the steep curve of his back all elegant and proper, like the prince he is. at the break of their kiss, he presses a louder grin against his mouth, noses pressed almost uncomfortably together. )

Run away with me.

( he doesn't pose it as a question. there was a time when he was afraid of his emotions for noctis, but - not anymore. now he just wants. )

Just a couple days. I'm not letting you tell me no.

Yes. yes.

[ let's run away, let's pretend they're not who they are, that they have the chance to run away for good -- like the obligation and duty is not a noose around their necks, charting their paths ahead. noctis groans softly into his touch; he's missed it, the warmth of calloused fingers, the way he yields under him.

the prince is kissing him again, the man who's the light of his life, the hope at the end of the tunnel. keith, who soars the heavens and holds up the sky. he draws out the kiss, just as ravenous as he is comforting, and he's quick to tug keith's shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

if parting is sweet sorrow then their reunion should be grander than this. his fingers come to trace over the necklace keith wears, more worn than his, now, and he smiles, kissing his throat, his jaw, fearless in his love for him. ]

I'll -- I'll tell Ignis. Ask him to cover. We'll go somewhere nobody knows us.

( it's not like - it's not a new body, but it is different, and keith only remembers how different it is when his shirt is already off, and he looks down between them. he was never immaculate before, but war and fighting has turned the real estate of softer flesh into a battlefield. the efforts of alien lasers cutting through skin like butter - most of them are nicely aligned, well taken care of. there's something gnarled and nasty right on top of his shoulder - a bullet wound, leaving behind an ugly scar. other than that, there's not much of note, other than the sheer magnitude of wounds. a careful eye will see the tattoo on his arm is actually covering a burn wound keith must've been self conscious over.

settling back, he tugs noctis up until he's seated warmly in keith's lap, knees bent up so he has something to lean back against. unrestrained, he slides a hand gracefully under his shirt, rucking it up as he goes, exposing his belly to the stale night's air. he's so soft, and warm, and beautiful. all the things you'd never expect from a crowned prince, and yet, he's probably the only person in the world who actually understands keith. )

Ignis?

( he asks while staring at noctis' navel, before flickering his gaze up with a smirk on his lips. he was gone so long - maybe he even learned how to miss ignis. wow. )

Specs'll kill me. ( clearly amused, he sits up, latching his mouth onto the meat of noctis' neck. god. he missed marking him up. ) Stealing the prince away from his duties. Too bad, though. This is a kidnapping. He can't stop me.

Keith...

[ the sassy, smartass remarks die on his tongue when he uncovers keith's scars, bares him to his gaze. he can see it, a map of scars that he doesn't recognise and it makes his heart hurt. he was not here for this, or this, or this. noctis runs his fingers over his flesh, unable to keep the distress from knitting his brows.

his keith, hurt and bleeding -- his mind conjures all kinds of terrible scenarios, scenarios that he's survived alone, without him. more than anything noctis would've wanted to be by his side, a belated fear for keith's sake.

he's settling easily on keith's lap, fitting and slotting into him perfectly, his lips finding the ugly scar on his shoulder. he's kissing over it, nuzzles against it and tracing over the tissue, as if his affection could smear over the wound.

his gaze goes to his tattoo, making an unhappy little noise, fingers covering over the burn scar as he rubs against it. he can't help it, he hates it. he's scowling now, eyes darkening. he's fiercely protective, his other hand sliding over his cheek, pressing the white of his throat against keith's hungry lips.

he feels savage, fiercely protective -- he feels like he could fight anyone who tries to separate them both. ]

Tell me you killed the ones who did this to you.

[ he growls. ] Gods, you have so many...

( keith has never been a self-conscious individual, because of all the things he has to worry about, his looks have never made it onto the list. when he was a kid, he was a little more concerned with his next meal than if people found him attractive - and now, he's more concerned with the fate of the universe than how pretty people think he is. but even he feels a little choked up, looking at noctis' face while he eyes the scars and just. wishing he was different, mostly. wishing he dodged attacks better, wishing he had eyes on the back of his head to has seen the blows that struck him, wishing he had any tool to wipe that angry, upset look off of noctis' face.

he really doesn't. he just swallows thickly and nods to the question - he didn't want to kill anyone, regardless of what they did to him. he wanted surrender, something bloodless and easy. but. galra have a saying, victory or death, which means that keith's victory meant their death. )

Baby, come here.

( he's already about as close as he can get, but keith wraps his arms around his middle, just holding him for a little while. hugging him, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down his spine in a repetitive motion. )

I know. ( when he leans back, it's to push noctis' bangs out of his eyes, pulling him down so keith can kiss his forehead. ) I know. It's ... it'll take some getting used to.

( noctis will have to familiarize himself with the landscape of his body, and it'll take time before he can look at these scars and this body without getting angry, without feeling guilty. swiftly, keith plants another kiss on his pouty mouth. )

I can put my shirt back on, if you want. I don't mind.

( despite the offering, it's not keith he's trying to protect. this is their first night back together - maybe it'd be better if it wasn't stained with all the aches of old hurts. )

No. Puppy, no.

[ he recognises it immediately for what it is -- trust keith to still put him above himself, his sweet beloved boyfriend, ferocious but gentle as anything. he flushes, embarrassed, because he knows exactly what his keith is doing, how he's blaming himself and taking on the burden like any of this is his fault. he looks up at him, leaning into the comfort but wanting more than anything to be his comfort.

he's pressing soft kisses to his cheek, his lips, his nose, his hand resting over his bicep, over the burn and tattoo, unable to keep the love from blossoming anew in his heart. ]

No. I want all of you. All of this -- you survived every single one of them. I'm proud of you.

[ and he is. his warrior, his fighter, he's leaning down to capture his lips again, fiercer than he's ever been. he knows keith is often self-conscious, prepared to withdraw into himself to please the person he loves, but noctis will have none of that. noctis wants to protect him, wants to be by his side, and this? these scars are proof that keith is stronger than what had come for him.

even now, his keith is trying to protect him even from himself, and noctis shakes his head. ]

You never have to hide. Not an inch of you. [ his fingers come to toy with the braid, and he musters a soft smile, although it's a touch strained. strained, but genuine. ] I kind of like the new hairstyle, too.

( he swallows. nods. self acceptance is a bitter pill, and in times prior he probably would've insisted - let me put it back on, i want it on, convinced that noctis is just trying to be sweet to him, not voicing actual discomfort about the real estate of his body. now, he just accepts it as bloodlessly as he's able. noctis wants every inch and it doesn't cost keith anything to offer them all up - this wounded, battered body that's lucky enough to have a prince not look at him with disdain for it. touching him, kissing him? it's an absolute charity work on noctis' part. it always has been.

he's quick to the buttons of noctis' shirt, rid of the offending article of clothing in mere moments. once that's out of the way, thick hands settle on the spread of noctis' hips. he's so small, keith can almost touch fingertips and cover the entirety of his back - he knows it's a product of him being a sickly child, but he'd be lying if he said noctis' size wasn't an appeal, especially in considering his fiery attitude to counteract the tiny form. he can't stop stroking his thumbs against the soft pocket of skin overtop noctis' hips, rubbing that sharp bone like a genie lamp.

his chin juts out to invade noctis' space, but at the compliment he blushes slightly, peeling a hand back to find the end of the braid, futzing around with it. )

Yeah? It's very "Galra rebel".

( it's also a symbol and sign of keith not taking care of himself - letting his hair grow long because he couldn't be bothered with doing anything not relating to the mission. lifting the end of his braid, he tickles it goofily under noctis' chin. )

If you don't, you can give me a haircut later.

[ noctis would be angry at keith for thinking that way -- that somehow this is charity. he's coming to learn more about keith's deeper self, his psyche, and he knows while they love each other deeply, every relationship takes work, communication, and a willingness to see it through, to be by each other. neither one of them are perfect; noctis is riddled with his own flaws, a penchant for escapism, sharp moodiness, and he knows it, too.

but he loves keith with all his heart, this is unmistakable, and that keith now takes it at face value makes his heart soar, and his smile can't help but widen as relief sets in his chest. previously, keith would've never done that; he would have insisted on putting his shirt on, denying noctis' words and insisting that somehow it's kindness that noctis would love him.

he's wrong; and noctis would prove it to him time and time again, ferociously loving him enough for the both of them, trying to tear down the pedestal keith sometimes puts him on. he wants to show keith just how precious he is, how anyone would be privileged to be loved by such a man. his keith, brave and valorous and passionate, with an edge that so often makes a thrill run down his spine -- coupled with that unspoken vulnerability under the prickly demeanor, the softness noctis wants to keep all for himself.

he sighs softly and squirms into his hands, leaning comfortably into his touch while he's tending to the scar on his shoulder blade, kissing over it and running his tongue over the scar tissue, intent on claiming him anew. issuing a soft chuckle when he feels it tickle, he's tilting his face up to kiss his mouth gently. he can feel the love and the affection, the thumbs pressed against his hips, precious attentions making his toes curl in pleasure.

he knows what those hands are capable of, and keith has spent too damn long apart from him. thumbing over dusky nipples in turn, he gives them a gentle pinch in loving retaliation. ]

My handsome Galra rebel, all chic and stuff with his hair. [ but already he has ideas, his eyes gleaming with ideas. how beautiful he is -- all sharp angles and masculine grace; but how much more beautiful he would be, hair loose on his shoulders. noctis is already stirring at the thought of it. ]

'm not gonna cut your hair. I wanna see it spread out on my pillows when I push inside you, babe. I want to watch you come apart under my hands. Did you touch yourself when I wasn't around?

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