nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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

( 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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