nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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

You ride bikes?

[ Noctis straightens, definitely interested. He's dipping down anyway, getting his hair completely wet before coming up, looking like a bedraggled, wet cat with his hair in his eyes and sticking to his scalp. He's pushing it back impatiently, because this is a thing he doesn't actually know about him -- the topic hasn't really come up, and Noctis could kick himself for overlooking such a thing. The mental image of Ignis in a biker jacket and on one of them, riding down the roads is an unbelievably delicious one, and he wades in close, clearing the distance between them to insinuate himself between his thighs.

Okay, it's shampoo time for the king, who despite appearances to the contrary also likes getting clean. The washcloth is in his hand, and he's squirming to reach the bottle of soap that's floating past, getting up on his knees so that he can splay his hands over his chest, his shoulders, admiring the sleek, warm feel of them for himself. ]

Or you could ride bikes in the countryside now and then. [ He offers, because the mental image is too good to pass up, and he wants to see what reality looks like stacked up against it. ] And I could do that with you. [ But mostly Ignis. ]

Rode is probably a more accurate term, but yes.

[ It's been years. His cycle is probably long gone by now, turned to rust and plastic or recycled once they started their work on the city. He'd been back once to look through the ruins of his old place, but hadn't found much worth or able to be salvaged. As far as he was aware, the entire building was condemned and was a smoldering heap on the ground while they rebuilt. Material things hadn't mattered as much back when things were so bad.

Utterly distracted when Noctis rises up, he smiles at the sight of him. ]

Hello, handsome.

[ One arm loops around his shoulders to tug him in close and he sweeps Noctis' hair out of his eyes with a delicate push of his hand, already groping for the shampoo to squeeze it into his hand. When he has an adequate amount - a little more than he uses for himself because Noctis has so much hair, he starts working it through in careful, slow strokes so he doesn't pull any tangles that may have resulted from the dip. He's as methodical about this as he is with everything, careful to ensure no suds or water droplets get in his eyes or ears, leaning into Noctis' hands in turn. ]

I'm not entirely certain I'd recall how to ride them safely; ten years is a long time to have no practice, but we could look into it.

[ It's funny how even now, hearing Ignis say that to him with that particular purr in his voice can still make Noctis warm and the tips of his ears crimson. He's moving into his hands like it's the most natural thing to do, loving and affectionate as he smiles back at him in return. Handsome, huh. It still feels so good to hear it coming from him. ]

You're weird.

[ But don't stop calling him that, he likes it. He's patiently still under his hands, noting just how considerate Ignis is with everything, elegant and graceful when he shampoos him up, none of the suds getting into his eyes. He's using the washcloth to soap Ignis up in turn, taking good care not to disrupt him the way Ignis had done from him before, admiring the way the water rolls off his chest, his shoulders, and suppressing the urge to lean in and chase it with his mouth. It'd be soapy and gross, for one. ] You know, I don't think you know just how gorgeous you are. [ He says absently, gently rubbing the cloth up his stomach, dipping to his abdomen playfully. ] Or you could just wear leather pants, a tight leather jacket and nothing underneath, and we can see what we can do right here in this bedroom.

[ Heh. ] A bike helmet too, I guess.

[ It's unbearably cute how Noctis flusters at a compliment like that; Ignis' lips curl into a fond smile as he finishes stroking fingers across Noctis' scalp, making sure that he gets every bit of his hair taken care of. When he's done, he dips his hands in the water and smooths Noctis' hair back so it sits the same way his own is, slicked toward his neck. It's a little silly, but Noctis is still damnably attractive beyond all reason. ]

Trust me when I tell you that I am but one of many who thinks you are.

[ If that makes them weird then so be it. Noctis' hands work the soap and washcloth over him equally careful, humming at the attention like a large, overgrown cat that somehow loves water. For all that he teases Noctis about being flustered at a few choice words and compliments, his own cheeks threaten to pink at the way he says it, like it's the weather, like the water's warm. Objectively, he knows he's attractive enough. The scarring is...unfortunate, but Noctis knows how he got it and Ignis is comfortable with it being in service to his king so he's never minded past the slight irritation when it was healing. ]

Ugh, no, I don't believe I'll be doing that any time soon. I don't know how Gladio does it, it's positively dreadful. Much easier to cover what you're wearing with a set of adequate riding leathers that you strip off once you're done with it. Here, tip yourself back and rinse it out.

[ With Noctis in his lap, Ignis cups one hand at his hip and the other spreads at the center of his back between his shoulderblades, holding him steadily so he can recline back into the water and rinse himself without having to move. ]

If I were to take you out on one, you would absolutely have a helmet.

Edited 2018-01-09 03:39 (UTC)

Yours is the only opinion I care about.

[ He squirms under his hands then, feeling the way his hair's slicked back to his neck, matching Ignis' own. He gives him a wicked little grin before he surges up to steal another kiss, shameless and playful, reveling in the warmth of being so cared for, and caring for his lover in turn. He enjoys pampering Ignis, he finds; he loves when he gets to make Ignis blush, those cheeks flushed pink whenever he compliments him. He's the only one who gets to see his calm, collected adviser and lover this way, and he's all the more pleased for it.

He pauses in his cleaning of him, gently tracking over the scars and admiring them -- a mark of all Ignis has sacrificed and endured for him, and they can be no less than beautiful in his eyes. He'd spend every waking moment lavishing intimate attenion on his scars if he could, really. But here they are, enjoying each other with a sweetness that makes him giddy. He does as he's told, dipping his head back in Ignis' arms, rinsing it out properly so that he's all nice and wet and sud-free, settled comfortably against him. Pushing his hair back again, he looks back at him thoughtfully, reaching for the cloth again and pouring more liquid soap onto it.

Thighs, next. ]

I'm going to have helmet hair.

[ Noctis is a lot less thrilled about this. ]

Indeed.

[ He sounds faintly amused, watching the long, pale line of Noctis stretched out in his lap and he's reminded that his cock is still half-hard; he's ignored it for the time being but the moment Noctis rises back and kisses him like that, his body reminds him that he is only human and that it wants. While Noctis likely doesn't care about the scarring either, he knows that back years ago he was the sort to be worried about his own. Ignis had washed over it carefully, not lingering when he'd soaped up Noctis, but wondered if all these years later if he was able to or if it was best to leave that alone for the time being.

Soap is redeposited into the washcloth and Ignis eyes him a moment - don't think he doesn't see what you're doing there, Noctis. He'd left Noctis' thighs alone for the time being, not quite sure where they were going to allow things to go, but when Noctis starts toward them he cocks an eyebrow, wondering if it's so innocent as simply washing. ]

If mine is the only opinion you care about then it should hearten you to know that helmet hair won't bother me at all as it will mean if an accident happens, you'll be safe.

I care about my opinion, too.

[ Noctis grumbles absently, but there's no teeth behind it when he definitely starts towards him, bold and shameless as the towel scrubs gently up the inside of his thigh. Right, then left, before he gently grasps his cock -- half-hard and so fucking perfect, like is it going to be weird if Noctis says that Ignis has the best looking dick he's ever seen? It probably will be, and it's not like he's had a long line of dicks to measure it up against, but.

He takes special care to clean him up, soapy fingers moving up and down his shaft, gently massaging against the foreskin before he reaches his balls and takes his time with it. He's heavy in his hand, warm, and his own dick stirs in response. Shit. This is really fucking hot, and the way Ignis looks at him is even hotter still.

Aware of the effect he has on him, Ignis' dick in his palm, he looks up at him with lidded eyes. ] Is this okay?

Yours is the only opinion I care about, he says mere moments earlier.

[ Ignis sinks back into the cradle of the bath tub and watches him, weighing where he wants this to go. He was careful to avoid anywhere too sensitive, too private because he wasn't certain where they stood. They hadn't...really talked about what it meant now that they were fully out and public, all their sins aired like dirty laundry for the world to make a spectacle of.

The world doesn't get this, though. This: Noctis with his hair slicked back and messy, dripping lines down his throat, his shoulders. This: Noctis sliding a soft washcloth over his thighs and then swordsman rough hands over his thighs, his cock, soap and water slicking the way. He could stop this. He maybe should until they clearly define what boundaries they're going to hold to (so they can break them anyway) but he sinks back into the bath a little further and looks at Noctis, like he's the king being serviced by his retainer. One slow breath in, held and then exhaled and he tilts his head back a little, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he decides. His cock has already made its decision, the traitor, fattening up in Noctis' hand with just the faintest bit of attention. ]

Yes.

[ Six, but Ignis is so gloriously beautiful like this, sitting above him, like he's every inch a king. And here Noctis is, paying his respects, worshiping him with care and devotion, watching how his cock fattens and stiffens in his grasp, responding to his touch. They have yet to negotiate boundaries, to decide what's okay and what isn't, but Noctis can't find it in himself to care.

They've already come this far, forged their vows to each other in the privacy of this bathroom -- even so, he looks to Ignis, cautious despite himself, caring more for him than his own pleasure. Ignis is the only one who matters, and his thumb gently rubs circles over the head of his dick before he cups some water and rinses it off. Another careful rinse, twice and three times, every gesture tender and worshipful, his eyes darkening with something much like desire.

It's been a long, long while since he's properly had Ignis, even longer still without the weight of guilt and the knowledge of inevitable separation, and he aches for him, the longing so overwhelming that he's surprised by himself.

And when the soap is washed off, the king slowly, delicately presses a kiss to the head of his lover's cock. ] Tell me to stop, [ He breathes, gentle and slow, dark eyes holding a world of promise. ] and I will.

[ This isn't like before - moments stolen in private with enough regret that he could choke on it, drown in it. He can have this, can have Noctis and he'd be a fool to give that up, wouldn't he? Ignis already did it once and spent every moment of every day regretting the necessity of it. Now, it's certainly not necessary.

Both hands lift so he can cup Noctis' face, tilting it up so that when he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to his lips it's easier, while Noctis' hand stays busy against his cock, rinsing it clean, taking his time with it the same way Ignis has a thousand times over in the past, dragging the pleasure out until Noctis was taut with it, ready to snap. To have that single-minded determination and focus turned on him again is thrilling all on its own, but to have it without any strings attached, to know that they can go to their bed afterward and he can wake up in it with no worries is even more thrilling. ]

Wanting you to stop was never the problem.

[ Ignis runs a hand through Noctis' hair and tugs just shy of too sharp, pulling him away from it because he wants a kiss, wants to dig his fingers into all that pale skin and leave a thousand marks so that when he wakes up in the morning he knows that Noctis is his, properly. The kiss this time is sharp, teeth dragging over Noctis' bottom lip, a leg winding around his waist to tug him up and in so that Ignis' cock pushes against his belly eagerly, the friction of it sending heat sparking down his spine. ]

The problem is I've always wanted you too much.

[ Noctis' breath hitches when Ignis tugs him back, caught by surprise -- and a heartbeat later, instantly aroused. He loves when Ignis sheds the kid gloves and gives into his wilder instincts, when he looks at him like he means to eat him alive and Noctis is likewise eager to sink his teeth into him. His kiss lingers on his lips, and Noctis cannot help a sense of smugness and pride at how he's pushed him this far. They've done this a thousand times before, but it often happened with Ignis on his knees, drawing the pleasure out to impossible heights.

Now it's his turn, and more than anything he sees the appeal of it. He's hooked on pleasing Ignis, on drawing out the wilder, more ferocious side of him; they no longer have to keep this a secret (at least, not for very long), there isn't anyone else waiting in his bed but Ignis, and in here they are free to pursue each other, to be together the way they had always been before the marriage happened. He can look forward to happiness unmarred by shadow and the ticking of time, of the knowledge that another is waiting for him. Ignis is no longer a secret, he no longer needs to hide. After all, Noctis had practically declared his lasting, undying love for him on national TV.

He straightens up and chuckles breathlessly against his mouth, feeling the slick hot slide of his shaft against his stomach. His hand comes to grasp him firmly, jerking him off in smooth, long strokes. He kisses him back now, deep and ravenous, and he feels untamed and set free, his other hand coming to grip his shoulder, blunt nails digging into muscle. ]

This is never too much. You make me crazy, do you know that? [ He's biting at his lip now, dragging him feverishly into another kiss, greedy and aggressive. Noctis will always be here to meet him halfway. He will always be here to catch him, to fall into the madness together. ] C'mon. Quick shower, and we're getting out. I'm turning into a prune.

[ It's not that he ever forgot the depths that he wanted Noctis. He'd buried it away as deep and as far as he could when they were separated because what else could he do? It wasn't as if he was able to stay by his side when he knew doing so would risk everything they've worked toward but then being away from him was just as hard. Distracting himself with work had done something to keep him occupied, and spending time with Aranea had worked as well, but nothing came close to this. ]

I've some idea, yes. [ It's half-muffled into the kiss, muttered distractedly while he does his best to kiss Noctis within an inch of his life, both of them still needing to rinse off but he doesn't care. He could trade lazy handjobs with him in the bath and tumble into bed and sleep for the entire night and be happy, shower be damned. That's what Noctis does to him - makes him forget every inch of all that tight-laced propriety and settle it aside in favor of want, pure and simple.

One hand drops between them, stroking over the curve of Noctis' cock in turn while his own hips push up, fucking into the hand jerking him off, aided by the slickness of the bath and soap from earlier, his own moving just as quickly. Between that and the kissing, the heat simmers in his belly embarrassingly fast, but then Noctis is urging him to the shower and maybe that will give him a moment to breathe. The press of nails in his shoulder recedes as he pulls away a little, slowly drawing back, releasing Noctis' cock a little grudgingly. ] Better there than messing perfectly clean sheets or the bath, yes.

[ He drags Noctis in for another quick kiss like he can't stop himself, can't get enough and then pulls back before either of them lose themselves in it, fumbling for his glasses. ] After you. I'll drain the bath.

You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to do it alone.

[ Noctis grumbles good-naturedly, but he's climbing out of the bath, gripping the side so he doesn't slip and crack his head open or something. It's a very real fear, okay -- Noctis might be the chosen king, the lightbringer or whatever, but death by bathtub is definitely not the way he wants to go. He's reluctant to release him, already tingling and hard under his attentions. But the thing is, right now, they have just about all the time in the world. They're not in a rush to gorge themselves on these stolen moments. And then he feels something strange, an odd sense of contentment that settles over the fervid urgency.

They don't have to hurry when there's nowhere else to be, and he finds himself smiling like an idiot as he watches him do something as mundane as drain the tub. And yes, yes -- he can't get enough of him even if they don't have to hurry. He can't have enough of the way they kiss, the way he makes him feel like he could do just about anything. He's stepping towards the shower reluctantly, as if unwilling to be parted from him. It should be stupid, really, but Noctis doesn't care. This is the first time he really, truly has the love of his life, when everything is starting to fall into place, and he can't imagine ever giving it up.

Turning on the shower, he pokes his head out of the stall. ] C'mon, hurry up. This stall's too big for one person. [ No, it isn't. But it's a little too big right now and Noctis hates missing him. ]

I have no intentions of letting you tend to that alone.

[ Ignis glances over his shoulder to make sure that he's actually going to start the shower and not just watching, but of course he is, dripping water on the ground, looking soft and sweet. Ignis can't even be surprised or irritated at the water on the ground; he knew it, knew what he was getting into, what to expect and he watches Noctis make his way to the shower as if each step is more difficult than the last. It's terribly endearing, but it also makes Ignis work quicker in response.

The drain is pulled and Ignis steps one long leg out of the bath, then the other, cock bobbing with the motion. He fetches two towels on the way and settles them and his glasses on the counter near the shower stall and then finishes the rest of the way there, rather pleased neither of them fell, because that'd be their luck at this point, wouldn't it? ]

On my way.

[ He steps in a moment later, grimacing when the spray of water hits him and he's reminded he really needs to rinse his hair out but he's not about to steal the water from Noctis; even here he'd give him anything, everything. Ignis' hand drops back down and curls around Noctis' cock, irritation of conditioner long forgotten in the span of the few moments it takes him to look over the lean, naked line of him, flushed pink from the bath. ]

Gorgeous.

[ It's a soft murmur under his breath before he steps in for another kiss, hand sliding gently down so his palm strokes the underside of Noctis' cock and cups his balls, pushing him up against the cool wall of the shower. ]

Iggy.

[ Noctis playfully, breathlessly chides when he corners him, gasping with pleasure when he feels his hand slide along his cock and his balls, and he finds himself twitching in his palm, aching and so hard and his heart pounding in his chest. Looking up at him hungrily, an arm sliding around his lean waist, Noctis tries to nudge him back, letting go only to run his hands through Ignis' hair. They have to rinse the conditioner out, baby, and he catches his mouth again to draw him into another kiss.

He's rocking into his hand shamelessly, already leaking into his palm, sticky and eager. He cannot help the flare of affection at that praise, keening softly against his mouth. Ignis might deny him nothing, might give him everything, but it falls on Noctis too to do the same, sharing the water without question. In here, they are equals, and in between kisses he pants. ]

I can never have enough. Let me just --

[ There, he's rinsing it out of his hair. He's gently nipping at his bottom lip, full to bursting with love and sealing his body against his own, free hand coming down to curl around Ignis' dick as well, thick and full and bringing both of theirs together, lining up both of them to slide against each other, all velvet heat and slick friction. There, better? ] Love you.

[ Ignis laughs quietly despite himself, listening eagerly to the noises that Noctis makes, endlessly thrilled with the fact that he knows that it's him making Noctis make those noises, it's him that's taking Noctis apart by bit and it's him that's going to put Noctis together again. He's edged back under the flow of the shower, closing his eyes to make sure that he doesn't get water or conditioner in them, despite how badly he wants to keep them open. His hands stay busy despite it, working over Noctis' cock with single-minded determination. ]

Greedy--

[ It's hard to sound teasing when he's just as needy, just as eager to get his hands and mouth all over Noctis' body as the other man is in turn but he does his best, his own body reacting shamelessly to the press against him, the hand on his cock. Despite the brief respite between bath and shower, he knows he won't last; he's waited too long, denied himself and Noctis too much these weeks to hope to last now that he's finally getting what they both want.

Good is kissing him while they're touching each other, but better is the wet slide of their cocks with the press of their hands, Noctis saying love you like no time has passed at all, like nothing's changed and they're the same as they've ever been, like things are easy. Ignis makes a low noise in response, biting a line of kisses along the column of his neck, watching the flush appear after his mouth leaves each bite. His hand tightens around Noctis' dick, fingers stroking over the flushed head of him, smearing precome down the length of him, shuddering. A little wryly, the confession pressed into the dip of Noctis' throat. ]

I'm -- I'm afraid I won't last terribly long.

Greedy for you.

[ Noctis breathes, words thick with need. He doesn't bother hiding any of it, how he gets off on caring for Ignis, on touching him, adoring every moment of his touch and pressing eagerly into all of it. He would say he loves him, loves him, loves him to the end of time and it won't be enough to accurately sum up what he's feeling. It's a joy like none other to be able to be with your beloved, to be in their arms and revel in the way they touch and kiss. Ignis unravels him and puts him together again with every breath, and he fears that he will melt right into him with those talented fingers. Hips sliding against his shamelessly, Noctis nips and kisses along the line of his jaw, smiling against his flushed skin.

Oh, how he would always be greedy for Ignis, how he craves the way he laughs and loses himself in Noctis, how they are incomplete until they're with each other. He tiptoes to wrap an arm around his waist, tightening his grip around both their cocks, shuddering at how good he feels. Now, here, Ignis' pleasure is paramount, and his mouth lingers on his earlobe as he coaxes him on. ]

Then come. Come for me. [ He coaxes warmly, feeling the heat of his kisses along the line of his neck -- Noctis thinks he'll have to wear something with a high collar tomorrow (does he even have something available?) and he thrusts quicker, bringing up the friction between both their fingers, giddy at how good he feels. He's gripping Ignis' shoulder again, half fearing that he'll fall if he doesn't hold on to him. Thumb rubbing deliberately against the sensitive slit, he smiles and urges him again, gentle and soft. They have all the time in the world with each other, there's no need for him to hold back anymore. But oh, oh -- a thought occurs to him now, and he squeezes him briefly, eyes bright with an idea. ]

No, wait.

[ He extricates himself from Ignis' grip and sinks to his knees on the watery tile, hands coming to grip his hips before his mouth comes to take him into his mouth, head, shaft, moving up shamelessly until his lips are closing tight around the thick base of him, his throat filled and stretched with his length and the girth of him. His blue eyes gleam now, carefully out of the splash zone where the shower's concerned, feral and full of demand. Come on, then, sweetheart. ]

[ 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. ]

Six, but I love you so much, Noct.

[ Oh, look at him. Noctis almost forgets what he's doing, caught off guard by just how stunning he is when he's thrusting into him, reaching for his own absolution -- the one that he gives to him when he tightens his lips shamelessly and fights down his gag reflex, swallowing around him in warm pulses. It's over before long, the rush of sticky fluid heat surging down his throat in erratic little bursts, filling him up as Ignis loses himself.

His hands tighten on his hips, bruising lightly tanned skin as he presses up, breathing him in and very nearly smiling at the way he comes undone. His own pleasure doesn't matter; Ignis is right, they've done it so often enough that it's not always what they strive for, only that the other achieves his own, and that's very nearly enough for him. Noctis is filled with a rush of affection and love when he swallows him down, relishing the bittersalty taste of him still on his tongue when he gently releases him, coughing before licking him clean, pressing a kiss of the head of his softened length before he leans up and smiles, lips swollen and parted.

Noctis looks tremendously pleased with himself and infinitely tender, and he catches his hand to press soft kisses against his fingertips before rising fluidly to his feet, wrapping an arm around him to keep him steady. He will always support him, he thinks, keep him steady and be with him through thick and thin. He's in no hurry to forget the way his name sounds on his lips, and Noctis nuzzles against him, giving his lips a soft, chaste kiss. He could do this all his life, just to watch Ignis come undone, to put him together again himself; after all, Ignis belongs only to him. Theirs is the intimacy and joy others spend their whole lives searching for, and Noctis finds everything in him that he cannot find in others. Not in Octavia, not in Ignis' substitute, who is a shadow of everything Ignis is, everything that he awakens in him. Now, he feels like he truly belongs. ]

Mmm. I missed having your taste in my mouth. [ He muses, before reaching around to turn the shower off. Sweetly wicked, his hands come down to squeeze his ass, kneading at the tight, firm muscle. ] C'mon, let's go to bed.

[ It feels like everything's been dragged out of him when it's over; Ignis sags against the wall like a puppet with its strings cut and stares down at Noctis with something a little like disbelief, drinking in the sight of him. He's real. He's absolutely real, lips stretched around his cock, too-blue eyes looking up at him through dark lashes. Ignis lets him slide back and strokes his thumb over the plush swell of his lower lip, smiling down at him in return. ]

You're awfully pleased with yourself, aren't you. I'd say cat that got the cream but that's a little too on the nose, mn?

[ The kisses to his hand get a little smile and they find themselves pressed together again, like if they separate for too long they'll forget how what it's like to be this close, to have this available again. Idly, his hands wander over Noctis' skin, stroking over his chest, his belly, dipping down over his cock teasingly when the hand trails over his ass in return. The shower putters to a stop and Ignis trails after him. They'll make a mess on clean sheets but he can put the damp towels down; better to lay in a damp spot from clean water than sweat and come and have to change beds. ]

Here, let me.

[ Ignis winds a towel around his own waist and then slings one around Noctis' shoulders, walking him backward into the bedroom with careful steps while he works the towel over him until he can nudge him to sit on the bed. Rather than going straight to it or pushing him back, he starts drying him off gently, squeezing excess water from his hair, working his way down over his shoulders, each arm individually, all the way down until he's kneeling and drying off his legs and then he makes his way back up with his mouth instead of the towel. Kisses get pressed to his calves, the dip of his knees, up over his thighs until he reaches the milky insides of them and bites gently, further and further until he can lick a long line up his cock, nuzzling him. ]

Come on, Noct. Let me have you.

[ Ignis' tongue flicks over the tip of him, lips parted in open invitation while he settles himself on his knees, watching him steadily. ]

Edited 2018-01-09 08:46 (UTC)

To be fair, I am the cat that got the cream. His favorite kind, too.

[ In one very, very specific way. He's licking his lips for emphasis, always one for a terrible pun -- it's what he shares with Ignis, this awful love for cringe-worthy puns, and that naturally leads to things that should never be repeated outside these four walls. Coming to run a hand through Ignis' hair fondly, gently pushing it back from his face (Noctis loves looking at him mussed and disheveled, but there's something profoundly enthralling about the intensity of his eyes when he looks at him, and he finds himself hooked on it), as he lets himself be dried off. Ignis' hands on his body are a welcome, wonderful thing, and he takes him along with him when he ends up sitting on the bed, so ridiculously cool under his damp ass and he squirms, trying to get comfortable.

But he doesn't have long enough to focus on that, not when his beautiful lover gets on his knees, all broad shoulders and smouldering intensity, and absently Noctis thinks of all the time he's mocked movies with conventionally handsome men who pout just so, but then here Ignis is, out-smouldering just about all of them and making Noctis' heart race in ridiculous ways because Astrals, to hear him say let me have you again, and if he'd been more giddy than this, he'd swoon. Already he's close, and he bites his lip, shivering at the stripe of heat up his very hard, very awake dick.

Damn it, he thinks absently. He loves it when he looks at him like that, and Noct knows that his own self-control is dangerously close to dissipating. It's one thing to be pleasuring Ignis, but it's another thing entirely to be on the receiving end and to be driven almost out of his mind with lust. How does he look like this, that perfect cupid's bow parted and with him expressing a desire he would never otherwise hear? He's grasping his own dick and pitching forward before he can help himself, pushing the thick, flushed head past willing lips, groaning softly at how soft they feel, how hot and wet his mouth is. ]

You have all of me. Everything. [ He promises, his voice raw and almost broken as he sinks deep into his mouth, a hand at the back of his head to keep him there. ]

[ This is a metaphor that's gone unfortunately awry and he doesn't have the ability to point out his amusement when his mouth is full, unfortunately. Then again, there's nothing else he'd rather be doing right now. Like a man in a drought, now that he's finally gotten water, all he wants to do is bathe in it, drink as much of it as he can, bask in it. He'd denied himself for over a year and now, he doesn't have to any longer; he doesn't need to keep holding back, he can savor this and in the morning he'll wake up and know that they can do this all over again.

He doesn't need his hands for this, not when he's all too eager to return the favor of swallowing him down, so his hands go to Noctis' thighs, sliding up until they reach his hips where they fan out. He doesn't try to hold him down; he doesn't want him to hold back so he doesn't try to make him. Instead, it's just another point of contact to know just how much Noctis wants him, straining up with each push that eases his cock further into Ignis' mouth.

How could he have ever given this up? He hadn't forgotten how addictive this was, the way that his body wants. Ignis relaxes his jaw with a little groan, half-muffled and lets himself savor it, working his head in slow, deliberate little bobs, taking a little bit further every time until he's sunk down as far as he can, nose pressed against his belly, swallowing around him with a noise that's hungry. His right hand reaches out, groping for Noctis', curling their fingers together as if he can tell him everything I have is yours, too with just that. ]

[ It's really all Ignis' fault for starting the whole thing in the first place; Noctis is just all too happy to run with it, and look what they have. But while Ignis has no opportunity to register his amusement with his mouth full, Noctis can see it in his eyes before it's replaced by a profound sort of hunger that only Noctis can sate. It's intense, powerfully intoxicating and pleasing all the same -- he's the only one who has the key, who can soothe the beast, so to speak. Despite his passion he takes care not to hurt him, pushing himself into him by degrees and uttering an audible moan. Now that they don't have to sneak around in private, Noctis is markedly a little louder, more relaxed with his responses.

Ignis is singularly gifted at this, he thinks muzzily, trembling under his touch, thrilled under the warmth of his hands. He wants more, needs more of him until he's finally given it and he forgets to think. He forgets about everything else but how good this feels, how Ignis' lovely mouth completely wrecks him when he takes him deep. And that sound, the sound he makes that Noctis will remember always -- he's never heard this one before, not when they were together like this, and his hand slides up to curl in his wet hair, tugging gently on him. His free hand is caught by his lover's, and he squeezes gently, fingers curling with his as he feels his heart pound with open affection. He would do anything for him, he would give him everything that he needs -- and he can't help but thrust into his mouth again and again; all that they are belong to each other, and he rolls his hips before pulling out and sinking deep.

He loves this, aches for it when he sees the red of his lips wrapped around him, the extent of his devotion, and he tightens his grip in his hair. ]

Iggy. [ One word, strangled. He can't last long either, he can't keep going when it's Ignis that draws this out of him, when he inspires the most lurid, obscene desires. He needs him, he wants what he gives, and he's jerking his hips forward, surging into him in almost-violent, rough thrusts, pushing deep down the slick passage of his throat. He'll be gentle later, he promises. ]

[ True enough; he knows Noctis so well that he should have known what to expect, after all. That he withheld so long, that he resisted what he wanted for so long is honestly shocking to even him. He could have had this any time he asked, but he'd waited, and now he wants to make up for lost time as if that will somehow fix everything.

Noctis gives him exactly what he wants, never too much, never too hard. Ignis groans around the thick swell of him in his mouth, swallowing salty precome and spit and shivers when he's overwhelmed by it, nails digging halfmoons into Noctis' hips to match the ones that are dug into his own shoulders. He wants everything, wants to spend hours, days reacquainting himself with what he's missed for so long, as if to make up for lost time. When Noctis' hips draw back Ignis sucks in a deep breath and bobs back down again, accepting everything he's given with another noise half-muffled by the length between his lips, exactly what he wanted. Better still is the way Noctis digs fingers into his hair, holds tight enough that it hurts just the right amount and his voice goes rough, strangled.

Yes, he thinks, unable to say anything when Noctis finally loses that tightly held control and fucks into his mouth hard enough it rips ragged little noises from him. Ignis rocks forward on his knees, slackens his jaw and accepts all of it, eyes watering as it dances along the edge of too much, trying to force back his gag reflex by relaxing, breathing through his nose. when he can, but it doesn't matter. Noctis could choke him right now and he'd take it because his trust and faith in him goes so deep; there'd be a reason for it, Ignis is certain of that like he's certain that the sun is going to rise tomorrow, because that, too, is due to Noctis. ]

[ He could have had this any time, but better late than never -- better now than tomorrow, or ten years down the line. They have so much to make up for, but Noctis is in no hurry to rush it all; Ignis is best enjoyed slow and deliberate, and he revels in the way he groans against him, the low rumble going straight to his dick and his rapidly fraying self-control.

He's gone so long without that this is overwhelming, the warmth of his tongue laving at his cock, the tightness of his mouth, the heat of his throat. It coalesces into something that rapidly pushes him towards the brink; Noctis doesn't last long, and he fucks harder into his mouth, restraint a thing long past when he practically chokes his lover on his dick, rough and unrelenting in his passion.

He'll apologise after, kiss his throat and promise restraint, but now he pushes him just a little beyond too much before he makes a soft, strangled noise. He's coming, and hard, sparks behind his eyes as he empties his balls down Ignis' throat, thick and sticky spurts pulsing down as he slows down his thrusts, trembling as he rides out his orgasm, fingers absently wiping the wet streaks from Ignis' cheeks. Oh. Oh. This feels too good. ]

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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