nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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

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. ]

[ Despite how long it's been, Ignis hasn't forgotten the tell-tale signs that Noctis is close. He can read it in the way his hips jerk forward, the noises he makes, the look on his face, all of it. It's overwhelming in the best possible way, knowing that he's the one responsible for this. There's an awful, tiny part of him that thinks: no one else can give him this. No one else knows Noctis' body so intimately because Noctis hasn't allowed anyone else to do so.

Despite his affection for Octavia, nothing can tamp down the swell of vicious pride and possessiveness at this, that he's the one that gets to see the king of Lucis undone by lips and tongue and hand, by Ignis himself. The fact that it's riding the edge of too much, that his throat is fucked raw and his lips are stretched tight around the swell of him doesn't matter. He'd meant it earlier when he said anything and if him on his knees, worshiping his king is further proof of his devotion then so be it.

The strangled noise that escapes is one that he commits to memory, along with the first hot pulse down his throat. It's been long enough that he has to focus, has to shut everything else out and sink back, tilting his head just so to accept everything his king gives him, swallowing each salty rush until the ragged thrusting stops. When he's certain it's done he pulls off with a wet gasp and sinks into him bonelessly, pressing damp lips against the warm skin of Noctis' belly, hungrily nuzzling him as he wraps a hand around the wet length of him and strokes just shy of too hard, wringing everything out of him while he pants for breath, trembling helplessly. ]

[ Ignis cannot get close enough, cannot be with him enough even when his lips press against his trembling stomach and his hand comes to envelop him again, jerking off the last pulses of his orgasm. Noctis, already so sensitive and overstimulated, makes a soft helpless noise, overwhelmed. A part of him thinks to squirm from the intensity of it, but this is Ignis -- the man he loves more than anything in the world, and he withholds nothing, not even this. He's coming, two, three pulses spurting from his ministrations, spilling over Ignis' fingers, spattering over his lips, his cheek.

Ignis wrings every drop out of him and Noctis' hands come to card through his hair, smoothing over his shoulders, desperate to touch and to commit him to memory all over again. Ignis is the only one he allows like this, and he swears he's the only one who gets to see the other man this wrecked, helpless and out of control. He's the only one who gets to mark him now; whatever dalliance he's had with others are wiped clean -- Gladio, Aranea, none of them matter moving forward.

All his, he thinks fiercely before he pulls him up onto his lap, pushing the towel around his waist off of him and tugging him into a fierce kiss. Six, but Ignis with his come on his face threatens to make him hard all over again, and he groans. ]

I think you're going to kill me.

[ The last few weak pulses against his cheek, his lips get a pleased little smile despite the dazed look on Ignis' face as he tries desperately to catch his breath, torn between laughing helplessly and just sagging against him while he regains himself. A flick of his tongue swipes some of the mess off of his lips and he swallows again, savoring it. He's never particularly liked the taste of come, but he doesn't hate it, especially not when it's proof that he'd made Noctis orgasm.

Like an overgrown cat, Ignis leans into the touches, biting lightly at the sharp line of Noctis' hip just because he can before sucking in a steadying breath and clearing his throat. When he's tugged up, it's like his limbs don't quite want to work; his knees ache a little bit and it takes him fisting a hand in the comforter and groping at Noctis' shoulder to straddle his waist, arm winding tightly around his shoulders so he can kiss him back just as fiercely, chasing the taste of himself on Noctis' tongue, viscerally pleased at that groan. ]

The amount of people who die due to sex is minuscule, unless they're doing something remarkably inadvisable. I don't know I've ever heard of anyone die from oral sex, but I suppose that wouldn't exactly be widely talked about.

[ He'd like to say he gets that out smoothly, but no, between the kiss and the way his throat's aching perfectly, his voice is ragged, sandpaper rough and oh, oh, his stomach tightens at the fact that he'll be talking tomorrow morning and it may still be like that. Will people know? Will they be aware that he's sucked off the king that night, let him fuck his face and come on it, that that's the reason he sounds like this? ]

Six, Noct--

[ Oh, shit. Listen to him. That ragged scratchy voice, just a touch pitchy and off just what he used to sound like. Did Noctis do this to him? Did he -- ]

Iggy, I just fucked the purr out of you.

[ Noctis is wide-eyed as he gently licks the drops of come off his cheeks, tasting himself before yielding to be kissed, laughing softly because oh, that definitely does one hell of a lot of things to him. When he speaks tomorrow, Noctis will know -- the others won't. They won't get that Noctis fucked him so thoroughly tonight, they won't know that the collected, dignified, handsome young chamberlain and adviser had just let his king come on his face.

And oh, the things it's doing to him now. He grips him tighter and tugs the towel free from between them, tossing it over the side before Noctis strokes a hand down his back and up, fondly petting him and taking his time, admiring the strong, solid frame of him and reveling in post-sex bliss despite Ignis seeing the need to dispense this sort of information. Did anyone ever die from oral sex? Now he's gotta find out.

But more importantly, getting warm. He's shifting up, stealing kisses from Ignis all the while as he marvels at him, tugging the comforter and nudging him to get under it. He's chuckling softly, following after him -- which takes some creative shuffling but they manage. ] Listen to you. You sound even sexier.

[ He's going to have to eat an entire bag of lozenges to make up for this and he can't quite find it in himself to regret it one single bit. Noctis' awe at it drags a tired laugh out of him all the same, groping between the kisses for a tissue by the bed to clean his face off. It's deposited into the trash and the towel is tossed on the ground, which he can abide for a short while, especially when he's being petted like this and orgasm leaves him a thousand times more likely to just want to lounge.

They're both still shower-damp, but now there's sweat to contend with too. Noctis doesn't seem to care and Ignis supposes that the sheets are clean and since they certainly cleaned up their messes, it isn't as if the cleaning crew will have to deal with any sort of unsightly fluids so he doesn't need to protest so much.

Still. The towel.

Ignis lets himself be dragged under the covers and casts it a semi-woeful look, but doesn't try to get up because underneath the cocoon of blankets Noctis is pressing the line of his naked body against him and Ignis is nothing if not greedy for him. ]

I sound as if I've tried my absolute best to choke myself on your cock, Majesty.

[ Ignis settles himself on his side, stroking his knuckles over Noctis' cheek gently. ]

...I never forgot how good it is with you, but the....ah, reminder of it is certainly welcome.

Don't look at the towel.

[ Noctis tells him sleepily, because he knows exactly what Ignis is looking at and what he's attempting to do. As further guarantee, he drapes an arm possessively over his waist. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Besides, it's still going to be there in the morning. Affectionately pressing another kiss on his now-clean cheek, Noctis laughs softly at that casually filthy assertion because yes, yes he just did, and he's discovering that he now has a kink for this -- they're all gonna hear that sandy, hoarse voice tomorrow and not know what who did it to him right there.

And for Ignis, another reminder of who he belongs to. He's draping a leg over him as well, because Noctis is practically a lounging octopus after sex, and he's dropping soft little kisses along his jaw before leaning into his knuckles, impossibly fond and happy. Fingers tracing down his chest, he gives him a thoughtful look. He's never felt more content, and he supposes this is what bliss must feel like. Ignis here with him, in his rightful place by his side at last. ]

I'll remind you of it every day, if you like. [ He says lazily. ] If our bodies allow it. [ A beat, then. ] Seriously, though. Have people really died from sex?

If you trip on it in the morning, just know I'll have warned you about it.

[ It's like an itch he won't let himself scratch, but for once, he lets it go because getting up to take care of it would mean that he'd have to get out of bed, toss it into the hamper, and lose this moment right now. Maybe it's that it's been so long or maybe it's simply that Ignis has sacrificed enough in the name of duty, however small, but whatever the case, he slides his leg between both of Noctis' and twines them together quite neatly as if to keep himself anchored there.

It's not as if he needs help, anyway; Noctis is doing a remarkable impression of an octopus, all arms and legs so Ignis returning the favor is only fitting, he supposes. ]

I'm not certain that my throat will allow it, not with the number of speeches and meetings I'll have to attend to. [ ... That's. Not quite where he expected the conversation to go and his phone is unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how he looks at it) out of reach so he can't check. Instead, he occupies himself with running his fingers through Noctis' drying hair, tracing the shell of his ear, the sharp line of his jaw. ] I'll look it up in the morning for you.

[ Definitely not where he expected the conversation to go -- but then again, Noctis didn't start this day expecting that he'd get to tumble into bed with Ignis at the end of it, much less everything they'd just done together. Or what they are right now, tangled hopelessly with each other, damp under cool sheets. Now he misses when Ignis would just toss the comforter into the dryer so that they'd be all snug and toasty warm.

But whatever. Ignis' incredible body is pressed up against his and Noctis can't find it in himself to complain. Fingers idly tracing up his side, tracking over his ribs before lingering over pectorals that would make any male model jealous, he's turning his head so that he can catch Ignis' stray fingers between his teeth, playfully nipping at him. The idea of Ignis giving speeches with that sex-wrecked voice sends tingles down his spine, but he also finds himself mildly apologetic for it -- he had been a lot rougher with him than he has before, and he abandons his quest for finger-nipping to lay soft kisses over his throat, as if that would make him feel better. ]

Sorry about this. [ He murmurs. He is a little sorry, really. Ignis practically runs the entire host of activities in the Citadel, overseeing and advising in turns, and Noctis will always be grateful to have him here, steering the ship. ] And you don't have to do that, I know how insane your schedule can be.

[ Not that Noctis' own isn't, but that's not important. ]

[ He thought he'd be more opposed to it, truthfully, but instead of any sort of regret like he'd feared, Ignis is...content. It's the first time he can remember feeling it in a terribly long time and he's not inclined to give it up any time soon. Now that they've crossed that threshold, perhaps it will be easier to convince himself into it again later.

Besides, giving up any part of this is absolutely unthinkable, especially when Noctis' hands are wandering over him like it's the first time all over again, like they're learning each others bodies again. Noctis nips at his fingertips and Ignis startles himself with a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the tip of Noctis' nose helplessly. You gave this up willingly, he thinks with no small amount of shock at himself. Of course, it hadn't been entirely willingly, but close enough that he can't think of doing it now that they're back together again. Not when Noctis is pressing sweet kisses to his throat in apology, despite not needing to. ]

Don't apologize, I quite liked it. [ And if his voice is a little rough, then so be it; that's a price he'll gladly pay, and he has a feeling that Noctis listening to him tomorrow is going to be interesting, to say the very least. ] I wouldn't change this for the world.

[ If nothing else, Noctis is going to need a moment before getting up after Ignis' speeches conclude, because it's ridiculously sexy and even in this blissed-out state he just knows he's going to have an embarrassing reaction to it. Maybe he should just think about fish when Ignis talks. But draped around him like this, he discovers for himself all that he's missed, this cherished warmth and how willing and open Ignis is, denying him nothing and offering everything. This is where he wants to be, this is everything he's ever needed for himself, and he traces kisses over his jaw now, settling in.

He'd gone without this for more than a year, and it's still a marvel he hadn't been much more worse off for it, considering all that's slipped through his fingers. ] And I won't let you slip away from me again.

[ He promises, a hand splayed on Ignis' chest, over his heart. This belongs to him, too. ] Wherever you go, I'm coming after you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

LET'S PLAY {open post}

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject