nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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

[ 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.

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