counterattack | A LAWFUL WASTELAND

[ it's December 8. Law turns 18 today. at this point, he's been living in Copalli for over a year. during the final relic fiasco, he achieved trance within about five seconds (because it's basically overlimit) and faced Tiamat in her castle because he had a score to settle with dragons (dragons, wyverns, same shit) and had enough taking shit from these mother fucking guardians in this mother fucking jungle. it was epic.

anyway, it's a few months later and Law lives in Tikal again, down at the bottom of the crater. they've built bridges and pulleys aboveground, as well as created a system to keep the crater from filling with water when it rains. although most of his farm was lost during Tikal's fall, he's rebuilt it bigger and better than ever and repopulated it with even more chickens, hogs, cows and even a few semi-domesticated mist monsters. there's also proper crops, probably due in part to at least one friend or another planting on the huge expanse of land he's set up there. he also rebuilt the inn that collapsed on top of him back then, and this time it's actually finished. he got a local business manager to help run the place and they export animal products and crops all over Copalli. the inn is booming. it's great.

all is well.

except now it's his birthday and Law is just trying to go about his business like he doesn't know that, strapping on his fancy wolf gauntlets and shouldering a big pack of supplies to go make some delivery trips to the other cities. nothin' to see here, not ya lil dude all growed up, a solid 5'9" (and a half) with some cool tribal tats done over his wyvern scars and something of a more mature countenance, buuuuuttt still the dweebo dorkus doofus meathead he's always been.

ANYWAY, THIS IS #LATERGRAM INCENSEDVERSE. medallion him, meet him at any of the cities, fight monsters together on the road, pretend there was a party planned that he's trying to sneak out of showing up to, WHATEVER WORKS. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

From:

counterattack

[ A wave of gratification runs through him, thanks both to the compliments and to the hand on his lower back. He already runs hot as a damn furnace most of the time, but with all he's had to drink making his blood turn into highly flammable gasoline and the gauntlet of emotions he's experiencing? Whew. All his waning common sense is begging him to just melt like a puddle into Gladio's arms, but he stands firm, surprisingly steady on his feet, in his gaze, and in his voice. The easy grin that spreads across his face is wolfish and maybe just a little bit... dare I say... cocky? Oh, gurl, he's feeling it now. ]

Just you.

[ God!! Who is he? He won't recognize this charmer in the mirror even a handful of hours from now, but right now, he's never been more self-assured. Of course the alcohol is to blame, and it's really lucky he has a distraction so he doesn't drink any more of it, otherwise there's a very high likelihood that he'll go from swag to puking everywhere (to be fair, the more it all has time to hit him, the more possible it'll be for that to happen anyway), but it's also just amazing where a little validation will take him. Clearly, it'll go straight to his head.

But so do a lot of things. God. The look Gladio's giving him is introducing a wave of thoughts so inappropriate, it's all he can do not to bite his lip. Actually, scratch that, that's exactly what he does. This would ordinarily be where he'd chuckle nervously and wave it off, try to break the tension somehow, but all this liquid courage has him thinking, what if... what if he doesn't break it? Maybe he doesn't wanna break it. Maybe he wants to see how far he can go. He wants to get even closer. He wants to taste the sweet spice of liquor not from the bottle, but from Gladio's lips. He wants to touch more than just his face.

His gaze darts away, toward the door, then back again a second later. Right now, anything and everything feels totally possible. Including the reality where he doesn't completely screw this up or make a total fool of himself. ]

You wanna go? Right now? We could... find a room at the coterie, and... y'know. Talk about how amazing you are s'more.

[ verbal air quotes around "talk." ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Their loss is most definitely Gladio's unexpected gain. He's had a few people come onto him before in the past but never quite like this. Never commanding his attention like Law seems to manage, any and all awkwardness working like a carefully-placed lure. If this is what it feels like to be on the other side of all those dumb jokes and corny pickup lines then he really was missing out. There's a moment where he processes what Law says and then he laughs, desperately wishing he didn't have these six-damned horns in the way so he could tuck his forehead against his chest.

Touchy-Gladio, foiled by his own problematic anatomy once again.

He can improvise though. Oh, he can very much improvise and the cogs of his brain are already turning as he follows Law's eyes. The door. Back to himself. His own return to the door, then to the mess on the table, and back to Law. The subtle bite of his lip makes his mouth go dry for a long few seconds, given away only by the more insistent press of his fingertips across the back of his hips. This guy... He knows what he's doing to him, doesn't he? Or maybe not - in any case it pulls forth a low rumble from deep within his chest and Gladio's head tilts back, throat baring just slightly. ]}

Truth. Yeah. Yeah, I kinda do.

_{[ The only problem? Gladio doesn't want to lose the feeling of Law's fingers scratching just ever-so-faintly at the edges of his beard. He doesn't want to pull away from the gentle heat radiating from his palms, and he doesn't want to break the heated stare he finds himself faced with. Liquor talking or no, he's smitten. Absolutely befuckled and smitten and man maybe Law isn't the only one who caught something now that he thinks about it. With Gladio those things have always sort of crept up on him until the day reality and his heart grab him by the throat and shove his nose right into it as if saying "You're really in it now, big guy." ]}

Mhm... Scratch that. I definitely do.

_{[ Even if they only wind up falling asleep on one another, it'll be fine. He just... It's not often Gladio lets himself indulge for himself, not when he tries to put everyone else first. Law holds the reins, and he's all too willing and happy to let him see where he brings him. With some (a lot) of reluctance, he starts to grope at the backpack and their trove of junk food with one hand and starts to clumsily shove it all back inside. The bottle? Oh, that's obviously coming too. Whatever they didn't finish here can be saved for another day. ]}

Y'got one in mind? Or jus' whatever one we can grab?

From:

counterattack

[ Is this... actually working? Law can hardly believe his eyes and ears. It's not exactly a shot in the dark when he's being given all the fuel for the fire he could possibly need: verbal encouragement, physical encouragement, liquid encouragement, and a sudden, violent case of the yolos. Everybody kept telling him he should stop being a ween and just go for—shoot your shot, just ask, what's the worst that can happen? But that'd always sounded easy for all of those people to say, what with all their worldly experience, charisma, and good looks and all. Up until now, Law's never really felt like he's had any of that to draw on. Now, at the very least, he's lost the crippling handicap of caring whether he does or not. Maybe short, stupid losers who've done bad things in their life and won't ever amount to much can have a shot, too. Miracles really do happen.

That excitement is riveting, and try as he might to keep his cool, he just can't do it. Law's eyes light up, grinning and giddy, the energy thrumming through him just as tangible as the kind he gathers up to break shit with. It feels like he could shatter anything without even breaking a sweat. It feels like he could do anything. ]

Just any one. Doesn't matter. It's usually pretty empty at the Eagles' place since they're mostly out scouting all the time, so...

[ At this stage, he's not sure if he's running on hormones, feelings, or what. Maybe both. Definitely both. A lot of both. Mentally, he can't even begin to reconcile how long he's kept this all inside with how surely he's getting his chance. Trying to comprehend how he feels seems completely insurmountable as a task when he's this woozy, but operating on his body's desperate plea for contact—that's easy to do. Maybe he's a touchy drunk, too. Who would've thought.

As Gladio packs up their pile of contraband, Law lets his hand drop from his jaw and instead delves into his pocket to find a few gold pieces to leave for their first round of drinks, along with a tip he doesn't bother to count out. He's not as unfathomably rich as he was before Tikal's fall, since mysteriously a big chunk of his stash just vanished, either stolen or something else, but he couldn't care less about all that right now. The coins clatter onto the table in place of the snacks, and when he goes to make his way around his chair and push it in, he finds himself thankfully not too wobbly. Not so wobbly that he can't conduct himself like someone who knows what they're doing, or too wobbly to sidle up next to Gladio once he's finished and standing and really push his luck by getting a hand around his back, one thumb hooked into the beltloop of his pants.

Truth be told, he has no idea, the effect he's having on Gladio. He's too focused on the effect he's having on him. The same effect he's always had, and for once, he actually gets to do something about it. ]

C'mon, I gotcha. Told you I can hold my drinks.

[ Technically yes, but also, no. There might be some moral quandary to consider about whether under the influence is the best time to make your move, but frankly, he'll take what he can get. It sure feels like a win. Who cares about the rest? ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Law hooks into his belt and Gladio automatically throws an arm across his shoulders. If he pulls him in that much closer than he usually does, he's not going to mention it. Not while they're both running high on the thrill of what they're doing—what they might do. That, and once again it's just straight up thrilling and nice to see someone take what they want, you know? He really, really doesn't get to see that often and it's not quite the same with the guys and the years-old familiarity they've already got between them.

Aaaaaaand if the extra closeness means Gladio can duck down that much easier to plant a short kiss to the top of Law's head, then he's taking it while he's got the chance. At least this way his horns won't get in the way of what he wants to do now. ]}

S'cause you're used to gasoline. M'pretty sure that could strip paint off the Regalia.

_{[ His arm tightens for a moment, hand wandering until his fingers manage to dip under the collar to Law's shirt. He doesn't move them beyond his clavicle out in the streets but Gladio keeps sweeping the pads across a small scar he finds regardless. If anyone sends an odd look or two their way? Hell with 'em. (It's not even because of that, it's just the extra parts from the mist.) It's easy enough to keep his hand there while keeping step with Law, doubly so with the extra handhold at his waist. Law goes one way? You bet Gladio's going right along with him hip-first. Down one street, up another, past a bridge here and under a canopy of colorful banners with merchants hawking their wares for the week, it doesn't matter - he's there, and so is the look of admiration (adoration?) he keeps sending his way.

Law's got him. He always has since day one, hasn't he? Helping them all get acclimated, feeding them, lending a sympathetic ear regarding the more, ahem, physical changes brought on, everything. The longer he thinks about it, the closer he plasters himself until Gladio may as well be leaning on him. Not entirely, just... Just a little. He's still steady enough to hold his own weight, honestly. He's just after the closeness. ]}

You... ever imagine it'd happen like this?

From:

counterattack

[ It's honestly a miracle he can support Gladio at all, but fortunately for the both of them and their vertical integrity, he isn't supporting him so much as they're both just walking stupidly, bumping into each other and taking up too much space on the road. For as wild as this is, it also seems so... casual. Maybe too casual, all things considered, but when he tries to think about how he would've expected things to go otherwise, he can't really come up with an answer. Maybe because he'd have expected this to all blow up in his face, or not happen at all, ever. Hard to use your imagination when you don't really have a baseline.

Even the walk to the coterie building is a learning experience. If Gladio can be so casual about touching him, why can't he? Each time his fingers sweep across his clavicle his whole body breaks out in a fresh wave of goosebumps, and that anxious, eager energy just builds and builds, collected static electricity, a metaphorical held breath. It isn't quite the skin-on-skin contact he's eager for, but you know what? He's just gonna Go There and let that hand at his back drift just a little lower. And then just a little lower. Doesn't take more than that to have his hand just fully, casually, resting on his ass.

And then he has to carry on a casual conversation after he's done it, too. Casually. ]

Honestly? I never imagined it'd happen in general. Like this or at all, I'm just happy it's happening.

[ There's no way he's going to be this good with his words later. But who cares about later. They round the corner and head up the steps into the Eagles headquarters, by that point almost fully wedged under Gladio's arm and against his side, his cheek against his shoulder. To the Eagle manning the entrance, they probably look the same as everybody else coming in from a day-drinking session at Viento: like a couple of drunk idiots that either need a room to crash or hook up. Which, astutely enough, is exactly what they are.

Any of the rooms on the first floor except the last on the left are open, they say with a little smirk, one that ordinarily would mortify Law beyond comprehension, but now he returns in kind. Whatever, no judgment. The outlanders are heroes in Copalli now, treated like VIPs, just like the leads had been for all those years. Now they're gone, and everybody just has to hope that history isn't going to repeat itself someday, but in the meantime, you're as good as gold so long as you've got a medallion around your neck. ]

Hehe... thanks.

[ Why make things difficult for them? The first open doorway they reach, that's the one Law steers them into, bumping it open with his hip and stumbling into the room. The... thankfully actually empty room. He's barely cleared the entryway when he turns under Gladio's arm, peering up at him with only a handful of inches fewer to work with in height, as opposed to nearly the entire foot shorter he'd been when they met. ]

Did you ever imagine it? Happening like this, or... at all?

From:

indeferent

_{[ Why indeed? The instant the door shuts behind them and Law turns to face him, Gladio makes his move. One smooth, practiced motion of ducking down to hook his hands under the back of Law's thighs, and one more to haul him up with a subtle nudge to get him to loop his legs around his waist. Nobody can really blame him for it, not when it's such an easy thing to do. Plus this way it's easier for the Shield to nose at the curve of Law's jaw and look up at him with that same wonder in his eyes. The physical contact, the closeness, and the invisible walls in their way all but knocked down. There were still some things bound to come up but for now Gladio was all too content to enjoy this. ]}

Thought about it once or twice after Blondie nabbed you. I...

_{[ Gladio angles his head so he doesn't accidentally clock him with his horns, breath warm and beard skirting over skin. How many times did he imagine this? He's not completely sure if he's honest with himself. He doesn't know how much of it stemmed from envy nor how much was from his own wants. All he does know is he's got the opportunity now, and he'll be damned if he doesn't take it. Even if he'll have to look the Eagles outside in the eye later with the full knowledge that they know what happened.

He may be an idiot when it comes to the people he cherishes, but he's not blind. ]}

I didn't wanna stick my nose too far into his business. Or yours. Then shit started going south with the relics 'n... The time never felt right. You never wanna make someone worry when you're about to head into somethin' dangerous, right?

_{[ Astrals know there was enough of that in Gladio's life already. Even if death wasn't permanent he never wanted to see someone actually eat it, least of all Law and the guys. Or, he thinks to himself, letting them see me go. That particular instance had been something of a recurring nightmare after Tikal had gone under and the mist swept over the land. How many times did he wake up in a cold sweat and his heart pounding in his ears because he'd thought Noctis hadn't recognized him and killed him instead, only to realize at the last second that that beast had been Gladio? The look in fake-Noct's eyes was already too much to bear. The real thing would've destroyed him.

Gladio huffs and shakes his head to rid himself of the thought before it threatened to sour the mood, and rather than dwell on it he dips his head to press a clumsy kiss to Law's jaw. And another, one after the other until he threatens to catch his mouth— ]}

Plus between you 'n me? I'm pretty stupid when it comes to realizing there's somethin' there between me 'n another person when I actually know 'em. S'completely different with strangers.

_{[ Which means at some point things with Law shifted from Just Friends to Something More. It just took him ages to figure it out. Still, better to take a couple months than almost an entire decade! If he had a nickel for every time that happened he'd have three nickels, which is just plain sad that it happened more than once. even sadder if it was twice. ]}

But... to answer the rest of it? I dunno if I imagined it happening like this 'xactly. It's definitely not a bad way to spend a birthday though, huh?

From:

counterattack

[ You'd think this would be a terrible, terrible idea when they're both totally sloshed, but this is one occasion where they can both most assuredly rest on raw strength and call it a day. Gladio picks him up like he's nothing and Law can hang on like it's nothing, his legs hooked behind Gladio's back at the ankle and squeezing with his thighs so that, at first, he's completely look ma, no handsing it. Those are some capable legs, boyo.

There are a few things he'd do differently if he were more put-together. Take off his medallion so no one has the opportunity to check in on him during his birthday and hear something they shouldn't, for one thing. He'd probably be more starstruck, too. Slower to react, which might sound like hesitation but if he's really taking the time to appreciate this whole experience, is it really such a bad thing? Other than that, he can't imagine how it'd be different, still. Gladio's breath on his skin, the brush of his lips, the rumble of his voice, lights a fire in him like he's never felt, and that just makes it difficult to think of anything at all. Already a little breathless when they're hovering that close together, he nods mutely, really taking in that feeling. That hunger. ]

With you? That's a great way to spend a birthday.

[ Sorry in advance to anyone he was supposed to meet up with today. He might be a little late to the party.

Law is a grab life by the horns kinda guy, so is it any wonder that, when he has the opportunity to decide what to do with his hands, he goes for the most literal option? He uses those handlebars to leverage them closer, pressing their mouths together with urgent insistence. Unlike at the bar, he doesn't hold back, and he doesn't pull away the moment he's actually starting to get a taste for it. No, his lips part to taste it more, gasping for breath only when he really needs it. Eventually, he relinquishes one of those horns to card his hand through Gladio's hair, his fingers curling behind one of those ears and pressing to his scalp, dragging down the side of his neck, trailing down his throat. It doesn't really matter where he touches, just so long as, before this is over, he can feel satisfied that he's touched everywhere.

Booze or no booze, birthday or no birthday, big stupid crush or not, he's so starved for touch, for being able to feel something after he died and came back, that he'd do this same thing no matter what. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ The feeling of fingernails scratching against the edge of his horn elicits a low rumble, not to mention the pull — it shouldn't feel as pleasurable as it does considering they're rooted into his skull, but then again maybe that's why. The extra nerves — particularly the ones that sit at the base — turn that rumble into a steady purr that definitely isn't made by an ordinary human being but it is what it is. They've both changed and rather than fight it, sometimes it's easier to roll with it. At least he hasn't changed completely. Somehow this is less awkward, he thinks? It's weird. All thoughts about it leave his head when those same fingers start threading through his hair and around his ear, making him cock his head with an even deeper noise low in his throat.

He wasn't kidding when he was asking for a good ear scratch and even though it's brief, it's perfect.

While Law busies himself with his throat and ears, Gladio surges his hips up both to rile him up and to get a better grip on his legs. One hand abandons his thigh to slip up the back of his shirt, fingers splaying out over his spine and teasing at the mess of scars he's seen there, too, and to just. Touch. He's seen what Law can do — he knows the power that lives in this body and the strength — and knows full well that he could very much knock Gladio flat on his back if he really wanted to.

A particular sharp nip earns one right back followed by a breathless laugh, his head ducking down to press their foreheads together between breaths. ]}

You can, by the way.

_{[ He moves to graze a canine over the shell of an ear, lips pulling back in a roguish grin— ]}

Leave your mark, I mean. If anyone has a problem I'll tell 'em where they can shove it.

_{[ And he moves back for another kiss. The thing about Gladio? He gives as good as he gets, and by gods he's getting good. As if to encourage him, Gladio presses the blunt edges of his nails into his spine and moves his hand up, stopping at the middle of his back, and they fan out to go back down. Not hard enough to leave what he calls Sahagin Scratches, but just enough to let Law feel it. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Friction. God, he wasn't ready for what that would feel like. It's only for a moment, the incidental brush of their bodies as they move closer together while Gladio adjusts his grip, but Law's breaths stutter, thighs squeezing tight on either side of him, fingers digging into his clavicle and the crest of his shoulder.

This would probably be where he'd start acting stupid, ordinarily. Make some stupid comment about how he's never done this before or something that really doesn't need to be said. Why ruin it? Why embarrass himself? It'll either be obvious he's inexperienced or it won't, and he just doesn't want to think. He'd much rather feel. More of that—more of everything. Whatever brief look of reproach happened to be in his eyes when their foreheads touch, it's gone again a moment later. His lips brush against Gladio's jaw, letting himself figure out where to go by touch alone. ]

I don't wanna hurt you.

[ Probably the wrong answer, but when he thinks mark, he thinks bite, and he's done enough of that to his friends and loved ones as it is. Please, teach him about hickeys. Or let him figure it out on his own. Maybe he'll get it—he'll definitely get it. His lips part when they kiss again, tongue running along the seam of Gladio's, and he doesn't seem to have any issue with sucking a little swell into his bottom lip, just enough to probably leave it throbbing a little where the blood's pooled there.

His fingers work their way down the back of Gladio's neck, arms draped around his shoulders. He's not even bothering to use them to hang on, it's all his core muscles at work and whatever support he's got from Gladio keeping him in place. When he realizes he's finally, finally getting to put his hands on that tattoo, he parts their mouths to divert his attention to where his hands roam, tracing the outline of that eagle with fascination. Much as he'd like to put his mouth there instead, all the flexibility in the world won't quite let him get away with that just yet, so he settles for tracing the scar running up Gladio's cheek with his nose until he can murmur by one of those oh-so sensitive ears of his: ]

Unless you're into that. I wanna do what you like.

[ Just because he's a giver, but also because he sure as hell doesn't know what he likes yet, himself. Right now, there's an easy case to be made for "everything." It all feels good, every second. ]

From:

indeferent

Two way street, Firecr... Six.

_{[ Try as he might there's no way he can suppress the full-body shudder that comes with Law's breath against his ear. It tickles his fur and makes it twitch against his will against his lips, drawing a quiet, breathy laugh out of Gladio. A good thing too because it gives him a moment to catch his breath, tongue snaking out to run across his swollen lip with a content little sound. If Law wants to touch? Then by all means, Gladio will gladly let him. The hand he'd slipped under his shirt withdraws to wander up to a shoulder, tugging lightly at the collar of it to show a collarbone to the world. He touches it the same way he had on the way over here and thinks for a few moments, his head tilting this way and that and just... overall soaking up every little tidbit of affection Law can dish out. People always marveled at the scar across his eye but there was something different about it this time.

A gentle reverence that sends his insides fluttering. To Gladio it was proof of his devotion towards Noctis. It had been the first time he'd been able to truly prove that he was the only man suited for the job and he wore those bloodied bandages with pride even with people fussing over him and fearing for his eye in the hospital that very same night.

Before he even realizes it he's got his face tilting forward into Law's touch, the one hand still on his leg kneading into the meat of his thigh with another content sound in his throat. And if he tilts his head to press a kiss to his palm? Shush. He may look like a Behemoth but he doesn't have to act like one. He can be tender if he damn well pleases. ]}

It's a two way street, Law. I wanna know what gets your motor going, 'n if you wanna try something? All you gotta do is say so.

_{[ He lightly catches a thumb between his teeth when it gets close to his lip, canines grazing across the pad. As tempting as it is to get another finger involved he holds off for the moment and Gladio dips his head down further to mouth at Law's jawline, ever mindful of his horns. It's no fun winding up with a concussion or a split eyebrow when things are getting good after all. Another kiss here, an open-mouthed one just below his ear, and he finally noses his way into the crook of his neck to nuzzle at Law's pulse. ]}

You won't hurt me either. One, I don't mind things gettin' rough. Two...

_{[ The hand at his thigh slides back to drag his palm across the curve of his ass once, twice, and then he delivers a short (and gentle) pinch with a laugh. ]}

I can show you what I'm talkin' about. Tilt your head back for me. I'll leave it somewhere you can cover up.

_{[ Taptap right to that collarbone. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ But I don't know, he thinks for all of a second, and then wholly disregards. If you don't know, y'know what you gotta do, right? This is basic shit: find out. And just like that, his trepidation is gone, baby, gone. Law grins, blowing softly on that flicking ear the same way he'd do to any one of his many farm animal friends, not above injecting a little playfulness into this... whatever this is. Impassioned, tender, sloppy, drunken, experimental birthday party sexy adventure. The only unfortunate thing here is how he's a little too addled to really pay total attention to everything, his body and Gladio's, learning what exactly works and what doesn't. It's more of a go all in, try everything approach where every touch, everyplace he puts his mouth, is something done just to do it, to feel it, to see what happens.

His tail swishes back and forth, almost close enough for the fluff of it to brush against Gladio's hand, muffling a ragged little sound into the crook of his neck. One quick adjustment of his legs around his waist and he can slide down just a mite lower, knees pressed to his flanks, still able to hang on without much support. It lets him get that much closer, shuddering with satisfaction at how it feels to press so close. ]

Nn...? I'm not worried about hiding it. Maybe I wanna show off.

[ He's still thinking scars, bites, something that leaves a rough impression, but in his case? That's fine. No way a human being could possibly bite him worse than anything else here has, and he's not afraid of pain, anyway. All of those things, he wears with total pride, hence why he was quick to accentuate them with black ink, tribalesque stripes like some kind of war-torn, decorated animal. Proof he's alive, something he desperately needed the reminder for after what happened in Tikal, after death itself chewed him up and spit him back out. This is a reminder of a completely different kind, too—something he didn't know he not only wanted, but needed, until now.

His head tilts back, fearless, but the movement immediately makes his head spin, and that, at least, is enough to warrant grabbing onto that handy handlebar again to keep from tipping too far backwards. If not for the dizziness, he'd be pretty assured that Gladio's not letting him go anywhere, but with the grip he's got on him with his legs, he'd be just as likely to take them both down if he were to fall, and then he'd be spending his birthday feeling a totally different kind of sore instead. ]

Like this-?

From:

indeferent

_{[ The sudden grip and pull of his horns as Law steadies himself sends his face right into his neck proper with a small sputter, turning into a barely-there raspberry against skin as he slips into laughter. Thank the Six his body developed stronger neck and back muscles to accommodate for the horns (or maybe it was brought on by the Behemoth), otherwise he might've found himself knocked off balance more than he already is. His footing shifts and his hold on Law tightens as he maneuvers the both of them around and effectively pins the man between himself and the wall, mouth quirking up into a grin. His teeth brush against skin, teasing at a bite yet still as gentle as ever, and his hips rock up to meet the subtle shift down. ]}

Yeah. If it's too much... I dunno, yank somethin'.

_{[ It'll definitely get the message across, right? Gladio thinks — hopes — so as he presses a kiss under his jaw. Just one to start, then a second one further down. Another, and another until he finds That Right Spot to leave his mark. Every so often he mixes in a small nip here and another right next to it, and with each one Gladio paws at whatever he can reach. A thigh, the flank, his back when he wedges his hand between it and the wall, his knee, and once he's a little more daring...

His fingers catch fur and card through it. Once, twice, perhaps even a third time before he finds himself breaking away to deliver another similar mark down further nestled in the hollow of his throat. This was all about Law in his mind — spoiling him, cherishing him, and just... Six, loving him the only way he knows how. It was always hard to express his feelings through words, but actions? He's got that on lock. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Too much? His blood is having a rave in his veins, he almost doesn't even realize what's happening at first. As Gladio starts to mark him up, Law makes such a goofy noise of confusion, the sensation unfamiliar but not at all painful. Not what he expected in the least. As it is, it seems like every place Gladio decides to touch him is sensitive enough to warrant a gasp, if just a soft one in most cases, but that tail in particular gets quite the reaction out of him. He has yet to tolerate anyone else touching it, let alone petting it, and... well, if it's just a bit matted and tangled, that's because he doesn't take very good care of it, either. Because it's sensitive.

His head swims and swims the longer he keeps it back with his eyes closed, and as Gladio sinks lower he tilts his chin down again, narrowly avoiding clocking himself in the face with the horn he's still hanging onto. Somewhat breathless thanks to the way it feels to have Gladio's mouth on his throat, someplace delicate and also, apparently, very sensitive, there's a fine tremor in his legs, and for just a second, he feels weak enough to lose his grip, like his muscles have all been reduced to nothing but jello. He's had that weak-in-the-knees feeling before, but it's typically while he's standing up. For a second, he has to cling on for dear life. ]

Oh, that's... that's not what I thought—nnh, that feels really good. I wanna try it...

[ Marks without causing pain, who could've imagined? Unfortunately, he had to skip right over the clumsy adolescent experimental phase, and all things considered, it's not like he's too old to still get a taste of it. Sure, he's eighteen, but there are people older than he is back where he comes from who don't ever get the chance to know what it feels like to really be with somebody. And not just be with them, but get to really appreciate them, too. ]

From:

indeferent

What—

_{[ Gladio presses an open-mouthed kiss over Law's adams apple, feigning a "bite" right along with a small laugh to both egg him on and to sate a deeper, more primal urge from within. He never was very mouthy before but the mist did bring on more than physical changes that he's been learning to deal with. This was just one of them, and one that he rarely dares exercise. There's a different sort of trust and bond between himself and Law so... really, it's fine. He'd trust Law to never harm him and he hopes to the Six that it's a mutual feeling.

A quick graze of teeth, another kiss to the jaw, and then he bumps their noses together with a content exhale as he fixes his attention on Law's face — the flush of his ears and cheeks, the look in his eyes, all of it. ]}

Think I was gonna maul you or somethin'? I know I look wild but I ain't that far gone.

_{[ But besides that; Law says he wants to try, and Gladio is more than happy to oblige. Just, er. Probably not at this angle. Gathering his arms up under him like he did when he first scooped him up, Gladio carts him over to the bed and murmurs a "hold on" just as he lets himself fall onto the mattress back-first and acting as a cushion. He knows he's a big guy, okay? He's not about to smother another person like that.

And... damn, if that isn't a nice view. Having Law above him like this. Gladio stares for a few moments, hands reaching up to cradle his face between them and draws him down for another kiss. Slowly, with an equally languid suck to a lip that he punctuates with another gentle bite as he parts. ]}

Go at your own pace, alright? We got time.

_{[ If he has to he'll make a formal apology later to the people waiting to ambush Law with their own party. Lost track of time celebrating, whoops. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Law "holds on" like a dog sticking half their body out the window—hands on Gladio's shoulders, chin lifted, waiting to see where they'll go (and if that tail is wagging just a little bit, mind your business). He laughs as they land, knees splaying so that he lands with them on either side of Gladio's thighs, straddling him, and fortunately holding himself up so he doesn't collapse down overtop of him. Before he can say anything, their mouths meet, that laughter is swallowed up and reduced down to a low hnn, hnnn of a hum, warm and affectionate. ]

Mmm... do we...?

[ Lifting his head, he glimpses the daylight coming in through the window and determines based on the fact that, yep, it's still light outside, that he's got plenty of time. All the time in the world. Ahh, it'll be fine! There were no solid, time-specific plans for him to be anywhere, it's no big deal. Grinning, he has to rein himself in to kiss him again. And then again, just for good measure. ]

Yeah, we got time. Okay, ah... ngh, hang on.

[ You know what's in his way? His stupid shirt. Sleeveless and loose-fitting, with a high, open collar and open up the sides, too, but at this angle, it hangs down, baggy and a nuisance. Time for it to come off. He sits up only slightly, just enough to grab it at the back of his neck and tug it off over his head, then shrugs it aside. And is that on purpose? For a purpose? Divesting himself of his clothes to make a point or to show off? It probably would've been if he were sober, but drunk Law doesn't even think about it, isn't worried about what Gladio will think of his physique, about his scars or his tattoos, the gashes from the wyvern that nearly took off his left arm or the jagged, ugly line that runs across his belly as if someone had run a knife across him to disembowel him (close, but not quite). He's not concerned about how he compares, for once. As if he needs to be, hoo boy. Kid could cut diamonds on those arms and that stomach. But no, yeah, he just wants the shirt out of the way.

Once it is, he settles back in, head tilting as he tries to decide where to start. His fingers travel up, idly, to touch the places Gladio had marked, considering how it'd felt when he did it, and then decides that, to start off, he'll try to do the same and then get creative from there. In his case, though, he starts right at the throat, exhaling hotly and just a little shakily before he seals his lips around a patch of skin there and sucks. A moment or two, then he pulls back to study his work, considers, and shifts slightly to the side to try again, longer this time. And harder. ]

Does that... feel like anything?

From:

indeferent

_{[ It's amazing how something so "small" draws out such a big reaction out of Gladio. Each little kiss leaves him wanting more and yeah, so maybe he's definitely in Touchy-Gladio mode now but listen. Listen. Shut up. The presence of Touchy-Gladio means that he's pliant in all the right ways and more than willing to fall into whatever line is needed. If Law were to command him to kneel? Six, he might "protest" but he'd be there in a heartbeat. As things are he's plenty happy to look up at him through heavy lashes after he pulls away to sit up, both of Gladio's hands moving to settle at the top of either thigh and roaming from knee to waist. Law says to hang on, then he's waiting. He's patient. Wound tight, but patient.

All of that nearly goes out the damned window once his top comes off. They've seen each other practically buck ass naked before without any problems but this is different. This is in a way that's meant Only For Gladio's Eyes and while he stares at him like one of Copalli's wonders, he's already on the move. One hand shifts from a thigh to grasp a hip while the other moves higher, rough and wide fingers splaying out across the jagged line on his stomach. They've both been through hell, haven't they? Only... Gladio's biggest scars came from Eos, not here.

His thumb sweeps along the length of it from start to end even as Law bends forward to go for the throat - literally. He doesn't make any noise beyond a slow, pleased exhale, his head craning back that much more to expose everything he can. Then the second one comes, and that's when a soft noise slips out on his next breath. Right... there. Yeah, there. It's a damn shame when Law pulls back, but the dull throb tells him he'll have something nice to look at when it comes in. ]}

Good. Good—Gimme another one.

_{[ The hand at the first scar moves further up to seek out the next patch. They find the bottom of the mess left behind by the wyvern, and this time his touch holds something akin to reverence. The contrast of rough scar tissue and soft skin has him swallowing around air and for a moment it makes him think of the gash across his own torso. Was it still just as sensitive around the deeper spots? Would it be too much if it were? They're all questions floating aorund Gladio's mind, and none of them are ones he can form words for just yet. So for now, he settles for casual brushes and exploratory fingers until he reaches the tangle up by his shoulder. Then higher, up and up to cover the nape of his neck. Guiding him. ]}

Try a little lower. Space 'em out.

From:

counterattack

[ The intake of breath isn't quite a gasp, but it's audible, and Law catches himself squirming, not at all in a bad way, when Gladio takes hold of his hip like that. No, it's the can't hold still, that feels so good kind of squirming, distracting enough that he presses his forehead to Gladio's clavicle so he can tilt his chin down just take a second to look. It may not be much in the grand scheme of things, as salacious as putting his hands somewhere else, but evidently he likes his hips held, and for another, that's a very sensitive scar. Physically, and emotionally, too.

It's the first one he ever really got when he came to Copalli, and the one that nearly took him out within his first month of being here. It's the one he's made the most effort to hide from everyone else, which, all things considered, had been pretty easy since it rests just below the belt line, and ain't nobody seen him in such a state until now (look, these pants sit lower than his usual ones do, ok). It's the one his father gave him when they'd found each other in the halls of Tezcatli, both of them transformed, after he'd goaded him and attacked him and challenged him. It's the only time the incense had ever pushed Zephyr far enough to harm his own son, and he'd nearly torn him irreparably apart. It's the one he rested a hand over when he said no, you didn't hurt me, because it wasn't his fault, and he could never admit that it happened. And it's also the one he feels he deserves the most, so seeing Gladio touch it now, reverent, exploring, is kind of... an experience. It feels kind of... like he's being absolved, a little bit.

His eyes return to Gladio's face, cheeks a little red, his smile just a hair uncertain—and then, encouraged, it widens. ]

Yeah? Okay, what about... here, or... here?

[ Lower. Law shifts, moving his mouth to the junction of where Gladio's neck and shoulder meet, and tests that place with his tongue before he makes a mark there. That, to him, feels like an even more satisfying place to put his mouth, his own stomach muscles drawing up tight as he peppers that same place with a few different ones, some dark, some barely there. Oh—oops. Spread out, he said. So he shifts to his collar, trying it right on the prominent bone. Mm, not so easy to make a mark there, nah. Just underneath it? That's better. And right between them, that works too.

That went well, so what about... even lower? His gaze flicks up just for a second, then he scoots down an inch or two so he can leave a real good one right on the swell of Gladio's pec, not more than a few centimeters from the beak of that bird. When he lifts his head and realizes just how big and dark that one is, he's surprised for one second, then pleased with himself the next. ]

Whoops. Too much?

From:

indeferent

_{[ Oh. He's a fast learner. Another sound slips free and somewhere between the fourth and fifth bite Gladio decides to say fuck it and slides his hand all the way up to tangle in Law's hair. He thinks it's gotten longer since the last time he'd properly mussed with it prior to today, and yet despite the climate it still feels just as soft. Carding his fingers through it is just as easy as it is to do with his own and by the time he starts to leave that good-sized bruise between the eagle's beak and the heavy scar, Gladio's got a good handful of it to gently pull.

Despite what he said, this isn't a call to stop. It's a call of encouragement. ]}

Whoops?

_{[ A huff of laughter and Gladio squeezes his hip again, pressing down with his thumb and rubbing slow, wide circles. It's almost tempting to dip it below the waistband of his pants too, but that may be too much too fast. He doesn't know — all Gladio knows is he fully intends to make sure Law sets his boundaries. What he can do is at least deliver what he asks for, and by the Six he's going to. Another gentle tug to his hair so he can steal a kiss, grinning into it and pulling away to "bite" at the tip of his nose. ]}

Nah. S'not. _{[ Too much, he means. ]} But if you keep going any lower I'm gonna have to flip you over and return 'em in kind.

_{[ Which... really isn't much of a threat, is it? The hand in his hair moves away to take Law by the wrist and moves it to settle over the steady thump of his heart. Or maybe not so steady anymore. It's faster, not quite matching up with the slow rise and fall of his chest but that's a good sign that he's into this. Then he coaxes those fingers to spread and guides them along the thick, dark outline of the eagle's beak. Over the scar. Up over what remains of its upper head, and finally over each little individual feather that disappears under the parts of his jacket that won't move because of his own weight pinning it down. ]}

Remind me to badger you for your secret one of these days. Your hands're real damn soft despite everything you do 'n I'm kinda jealous.

From:

counterattack

[ Finally, Law makes a little noise. It's not that he was trying not to, before, or that he's going to turn out to be such a quiet person when he's fooling around, it's just that nothing had really gotten his goat the way this does. Little gasps, soft murmurs—but this is an out-and-out warble, a moan. That hand in his hair, pulling without yanking on it? Incredible. But the hip? God. That's a sweet spot. He can't even get his head around trying not to writhe, arching, a mess in Gladio's hands. He can't even get his head around being embarrassed about it, either. And why the hell should he? It feels too good for that. He's never really felt good in his life, let him live, god damn. ]

It's... gotta maintain your weapons... same as, y'know... the pointy things.

[ He can't remember what those pointy things are called right now. Something something lotion, blah blah special gloves. His forehead presses to Gladio's, breath harsh in the scant space between their lips. His fingers press into the scar as his hand is guided along, tracing the outer edges of it, and they're trembling a little by the time he makes it to the feathers. Eyes closed, he focuses his attention on feeling rather than seeing, on following the path up to the edge of that jacket, then choosing his own route back down, feeling his way along his chest, the curve of his side, his stomach.

When his eyes peel open again, he takes his hand away only so he can grab hold of the medallion and the chain with his parents' rings hanging from his neck and pull them around so that they're both resting against his back. Then, boldly venturing, he presses himself closer, his weight on his bent elbow, the fingers of that hand finding the space behind Gladio's ear and digging in again, rubbing and scratching. ]

I... should ask you if you wanna take this further. Jus' because I don't think— I don't know if I—

[ ...do? Having second thoughts about how quick this is going? oh honey don't be silly. He might not even be that sensible if he were sober, frankly. ]

—Don't know if I'll be able to stop if you keep—if we keep this up. So, uh... do you?

From:

indeferent

_{[ Gladio's lips part to ask what Law wants: what he really wants, and not what Gladio wants. Shame whatever he's about to say is promptly bodied out of the way in favor of a very low, very noisy rumble that melts into a stuttered moan on an exhale, just like a dog getting a damn good ear scratch. His head tilts into it and his eyes nearly roll back into his skull, his hold tightening on Law that much more while his entire body decides to... basically sort of blue screen for a good minute. That's a different angle and if he were a little more sober he might've been embarrassed at how fast it seems to make his blood rush south, but he's just the right amount of shameless that it's fine. ]}

Fuh...ck. Mmn... Law—

_{[ Just. Give him a minute here for the little brain-Gladios to wrangle a coherent thought. It's hard and in the interim Gladio nearly squirms underneath Law, one long leg moving to bend at the knee and very nearly threatening to flip the both of them over. Nearly, but not quite. He uses his thigh to nudge at his ass, silently pleading for... pretty much whatever he feels like giving. At least in Gladio's own defense he did say he was a Touchy Drunk?

It's another two before he actually does manage to string his words together, and when he forces himself to look up those amber eyes are dark and wanting. Needy, even. Come on, Amicitia. He asked you a question, so answer it. ]}

How— _{Shit, Firecracker... Do that again, please—} How far have you ever...?

_{[ Because he doesn't know how far things went with Prompto, nor does he know if Law has ever cozied up with other people like Gladio has in the past. The locals are fantastic people don't get him wrong, but after he'd started changing he began to keep his distance. It's pretty hard to get it up for someone who tried to actively kill you, you know? The thought of that makes the spot above his tailbone ache, his body remembering the sharp pain of the arrow lodging itself right into the meat of his tail that day. Law, though... Law accepts him for who he is, horns and all. Something in his gut flips and twists into a knot as he wonders — just for a moment — if he'd still take him as that were-creature, too. A classic babe, would you still love me if I was a worm seven foot tall man-behemoth? conundrum if there ever was one. ]}

'Cause... 'Cause I don't wanna rush you into things too fast. All you gotta do is say slow down or stop 'n we'll do that, alright? You wanna keep it to just this, we can. You want more? I'll...

_{[ His eyes fall shut and he leans further into Law's fingers for a moment, exhaling with another quiet moan intermingled with his exhale. There's an ear scratch and then there's an ear scratch. Would it feel this good if he were that beast? Maybe... maybe he'll have to do some experimentation of his own at some point. But focus, Amicitia— He murmurs an apology and another "Feels good", his head tilting back up. ]}

I'm all yours. 'n maybe I'm bein' a little selfish here, but I think I wanna at least see you get off.

_{[ A nice little Nasti Birthday gift? Yea. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Law's laugh is tremulous, almost as if he can't believe he's capable of eliciting such a strong reaction from someone like Gladio. It's the kind of response that makes him feel it sympathetically, his own body burning with it, shifting eagerly under his touch. As Gladio bends his leg, Law moves with him, shifting position so that he's positioned between them, and that continued reckless disregard for propriety lets him press his hips in closer, too.

Oh, man. Oh man oh man oh man— ]

Nnnh—you can't tell? I mean... it's not obvious?

[ If he's not screaming obvious clueless virgin then that is a miracle, one he's exceedingly grateful for. He'd always thought he'd... struggle with this, honestly. Not being physical with another person, but getting caught up in his own head. He hates not getting things right the first time, and this isn't exactly something you can train at, y'know? (He'll find ways to get his practice eventually, don't worry.) All this time he's spent worrying about embarrassing himself, he regrets that now. Even stumbling and shit-faced, it's not difficult. All he's doing is what it feels good to do. Maybe that'll change when they actually start... y'know... but it's not as if he's never touched himself, so how hard could it be with another guy? It's the same junk. ]

I don't think it's too fast. I mean, I've been waiting half of forever already, so...

[ We'll see what he thinks tomorrow, but living life that way is no way to be. You're never guaranteed a tomorrow, so why not just go for it? Grinning a little, he chases down that spot he'd scratched that'd really sent Gladio into a (metaphorical) tailspin, kneading with his fingertips, then scratching with his blunt nails. His grin goes funny at the edges, flushing with satisfaction. ]

How is that selfish? Selfish would be if I didn't return the favor. Which I... I definitely wanna do.

[ oh man oh man oh man ]

From:

indeferent

I can't rea—ah...

_{[ Sorry, what was that? His train of thought has been derailed twice as hard, but he has enough clarity to let the hand that had been in Law's hair slide down the back of his neck, along the length of his spine, and down to the waistband of his pants. He lacks the fine motor skills to actually do what he wants to do for the moment, but for now it's enough. His fingertips drag across his lower back, following the faint scarring that he can't see but knows is there from the wyverns. He still thanks the Astrals every day that he had only seen him recovering after that incident because he's frankly not entirely sure how he'd have taken it otherwise. Seeing Ignis the way he'd been after Leviathan had pretty much destroyed him, so seeing Law... It might've been a lot worse.

That doesn't mean he can't appreciate the shit out of his scars though. Scarring only proves that he survived. They're proof that he's strong, that he's got a warrior's heart and soul thriving within him and that it'd take more than a couple unruly animals to take him out for good. And... if he's honest? Where they might look terrible on someone else, they look good on Law. Damn good. So, he contents himself with tracing them while his brain goes on the fritz.

Especially when that particular nugget reaches his ears. His head turns further into his hand and he gasps, though whether it's from a moment of too much too much or the implications... He can't tell. Does it matter? Nah. Not really. ]}

Nngh... You're killin' me, kid.

_{[ He can't even call him a cocktease quite yet which is probably the worst crime right now. What can he call him? An ear-tease? That doesn't even make sense, so all Gladio can do is keep making that strange, garbled rumble in his chest and groan every time Law's fingers find a real good spot all while trying to sort his thoughts out. Which is, uh. Pretty hard to do between that and the alcohol, but he's doing his best which is all anyone can ask. ]}

Gotta... talk to me... Don't wanna throw you into the deep end right out the gates...

_{[ His fingers falter over the scars and dip past the edge of his pants for a second, catching on the clasp that keeps them closed over his tail. That's— huh, somehow he didn't notice that before. It takes a bit of blind fumbling but that little button snaps open under his thumb and before Gladio knows it, he's letting his middle finger dip down to brush the spot where human skin gives way into fur. Soft, he thinks. Very soft. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ It's definitely going to his head, seeing how strongly Gladio reacts to his touch. Not to mention how he looks and sounds when he does—remember the Burger Incident? This is that times a hundred. Of course, back then, he hadn't even been able to keep it together for a second in the face of those probably completely unintentionally sexy eatin' noises. This time? When it is intentional (or at least contextually appropriate)? Yeah, it's flustering him a little, but mostly, it's making him feel bolder. He grins like he's proud of himself, nudging their mouths together, fingers briefly leaving the space behind Gladio's ear to experiment with running them along the base of his horn, right where it meets his skin. Somebody else might find it kind of weird or off-putting, seeing as it's not what one would call a conventionally attractive sensation or feature, but Law doesn't mind it. He's seen worse transformations, and Gladio happens to wear the horns well. ]

You don't gotta worry about that. I ca—aaaah—

[ Holy god.

It's Law's turn to come apart with an absolutely obscene noise, his back instantly snapping into a dramatic arch. If the tail itself is sensitive, the spot where it connects to his body, right at the tailbone, is doubly so. Easy for it to be when he's never had hands on him that low before, but maybe there's just something about these monster bits that does weird shit to the people that have them? He'll never know. All he knows is he winds up with his face pressed to Gladio's shoulder, palm pressed to the bed, and all the blood in his body feels like it rushes straight to his groin so that his hips shift needily without him even meaning for them to.

Suddenly, he's feeling a lot more willing to be honest. Weird. ]

I've never done this before, any of it. But I don't need you to be careful with me. I don't wan-nn-t you to be careful with me.

From:

indeferent

_{[ This kid really is going to be the death of him — between the touch to his horn, the grin he catches out of the corner of his eye and that oh-so-tender kiss, Gladio feels his heart skip a beat within his chest. It's damn near enough to pull an honest-to-Six keen out of him when he pulls back to speak, but he manages to catch it just in time for Law to make that delightful little noise. With the angle they're both at it means Gladio's own laughter winds up partially muffled in Law's hair, his nose burying itself into the shorter swath he finds at the side. He'd tuck the kid's head under his chin if he could but for now this was good. Better than good, actually, because this way he can mumble and tease a barely-there bite to the tip of an ear.

Scratch that, more than a nibble. He's not rough by any means but he does duck down a bit more to lightly tug on an earlobe, then follows that "bite" with a small kiss. That's where he stays for the time being while he grows a little more bold and gently pinches the base of Law's tail between his fingers, then down a few inches to card through the longer, thicker fur and back up to the small of his back. Each time he goes back down he lets his touch linger a little bit longer each time, and each time he goes up he signals it with a careful scratch to the spot where it all connects. Gladio knows he liked it the one time he'd been touched there (despite the literal pain in the ass from the arrow he'd been shot with), so it only makes sense to him to try something similar here. ]}

You might not want it but 'm still sober enough to know you'll thank me for it later, Firecracker.

_{[ Another kiss to the ear, and Gladio's mouth turns up into a smile against it. He noses his way back into his hair with a content sigh, and the instant Law starts to shift against his own? He's rocking back up to meet him. Slow and steady despite it all — to start with, anyway. ]}

For now, just do what feels right. Don't be 'fraid to ask for something.

_{[ Hell, he'll even put his gil where his mouth is and prove his own point. Using what leverage he has on Law's hip, he keeps him steady and with the hand at his lower back coaxes him into a slow, almost-uneven rhythm. Find what feels right. ]}

Shut your eyes 'n focus on this for a minute. I got you.

From:

counterattack

You're drunker'n I am. And I'm not afraid.

[ No, just rapidly becoming a mess. He'd kept it together pretty well up until now, but now it seems like everything is getting a solid reaction out of him. He answers teeth with teeth, still unwilling to bite but not above mindless mouthing, sighing shakily as he rasps his front teeth against Gladio's shoulder, then into the crook of his neck. It had, at first, been a way to hide his face, but now it seems like a perfectly good place to be, something to channel his needy energy into up until they rock their hips together.

When they do, suavely, he chokes on his spit. It feels like he's all over the place, squirming, arching, unsure what sensation to chase down or what action to focus on, and how is he supposed to decide when all of it feels good? He is, in fact, a little wide-eyed as he starts to come apart at the seams, but that helpful instruction helps capture his attention.

Eyes closed, he starts with his breaths, as always. Find your center. Harness your energy. It's an absolutely wild feeling to try to put into play in bed, and while it's not quite the same as, y'know, getting ready to smash through a boulder, the technique is kind of similar. It's just that instead of finding his footing in a fight, he's keying into the rhythm of Gladio's body. And then his own, and then finding that sweet spot in-between both that lights all his nerves on fire. His breaths lengthen to match the steady sway of his hips, and as he lifts his face from Gladio's shoulder to met his eye, a few of the longer strands of his hair falling into his eyes, damp with sweat, he sure looks like he's in the zone. ]

I don't need experience to know what I'm doing. I wanna touch you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All