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. ]

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From:

indeferent

_{[ Were he with anyone else (save a certain King of the Brats), Gladio might not do what he does. But since it's Law? He throws caution into the wind and lets the more animalistic side that he tries so hard to keep buried slip out. Not a lot, just... enough. The hand in his hair triggers it — a deep rumble that almost starts off as a growl, then it tapers out into something quieter and constant, albeit broken. A little known fun fact about Behemoths? Despite their fierce outward appearances they really did share a lot of similarities with cats, including purring even if it was rare to catch on film. One had to get incredibly close to them to distinguish it and by that point a person would've felt it first, no doubt prompting them to get the fuck out of dodge before they became dinner.

He didn't feel any shame about showing it to Law though. Perhaps Past-Gladio would've, but not now. Not anymore. No matter how awkward it feels in his chest to do it he keeps it going, and he keeps seeking his hand out little by little. Fingers dig into his hair and across his scalp, pulling a pleased sigh from his lips and prompting him to turn and press a gentler kiss to the inside of Law's thigh. The next one goes to the ink creeping higher until Gladio has to start pulling himself up the length of Law's body inch by inch and by the time he reaches the widest part of the tattoo, he's left a nice little trail of red marks in various shapes and sizes. ]}

Gimme the ones you thought about the most, then. Besides...

_{[ Touching me, he thinks to himself. The flush that'd have naturally covered his ears spreads fully to his cheeks the more he repeats it in his mind all the way until the point Gladio bows his head to plant a Good Proper Bite-n-Mark on an exposed hipbone. This angle also gives him a better opportunity to readjust the hold he has on his cock, thumb stroking along the underside in slow, steady swipes. Up, aaaaaand down.

Better to fixate on that than his own silly embarrassment, huh? ]}

I'd be a lousy partner if I wasn't curious 'bout what I could make reality for you.

_{[ Gladio pulls himself up higher, higher, almost as if he means to put his money where his mouth is only...

to kiss the scar across Law's abdomen instead. Right smack in the center. And also conveniently sticking his head and horns in perfect Guidance Range. ]}

Gotta have been more than just a handjob, right? C'mon... Top two?

From:

counterattack

Gladio—

[ Good luck getting the way he sounds when he says your name like that out of your dreams for the foreseeable future, champ. The list of things happening here that are all driving him absolutely wild is growing longer by the second, but it's his hip that really gets him. He arches up again, sinking his teeth into his lip and causing even more blood to pool in the center of that bite and start to run down his chin. He doesn't even notice. For all he knows, he could be fully drooling right now and that wouldn't manage to shock him. He's not even sure he'd care. Like, who wouldn't drool at a time like this?

The muscles in his stomach clench tight as he forces his body back down and breath through his lungs. By now, he's flushed from his face to his chest, beet red and still pale enough that it shows up really, really obviously. (Up until recently, the sun never really managed to reach Copalli enough to change the complexion that years of eternal nights in Cyslodia had left him with, but now that it does, he's slowly, slowly making his way back to that good ol' Calaglian Tan he used to be.) ]

You're really overestimating my creativity here... u-uh—

[ Even with a whole year of staring at Gladio and agonizing over his big, stupid crush on him, he'd always had to chastise himself for how juvenile most of his thoughts were. Baby stuff like holding his hand and kissing him, but whenever he took it further than that he'd get so caught up in a tangled web of I just wanna do everything and that's never gonna happen. What pops into his mind then is so mortifying even drunk-Law can't get around it. He can't look at him, can only drag his blunt nails through his hair and scratch behind his ear, apparently totally willing to accept a man letting out a monstrous purr, but not whatever filthy daydreams he'd been plagued with in the past. ]

Okay, that time at the cookoff when you tried that burger I made and had all that meat juice running down your face, it made me think of—something else. Something you're reeeeally, really close to right now. I couldn't get that image outta my head for months. You better not frickin' laugh, or I swear...

[ He'll... do... something. Die, probably. But he grips one of Gladio's horns with his other hand as if he has some punishment in mind anyway, even though he truly does not. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ It's not often that something is able to render Gladio speechless, but that? That entire thing right there? That does it, and boy howdy does it hit him like a rampaging dualhorn square in the chest. So maybe he could've survived the first hit: The pitch of Law's voice as he said his name. That's usually no biggie in most cases, but to hear it uttered like it could be the last thing he says in the world and he's okay with it... Gladio's breath hitches and he forces a lopsided grin to his face when really, he just wants to bury his face into Law's thigh. Or between them. He's getting to that but he still intends to leave his mark in both the literal and proverbial sense before that happens. For now, he settles for pressing his cheek against his belly, nose barely touching his navel.

But then Law moves his hand further into his hair and scratches his ear. He's still talking, and just as he's processing it he feels — and sees — his other hand settling onto a horn. The mental picture he paints goes straight to his cock and he shifts against the blankets, rutting into them once, twice like the antsy brute he is. There's no denying that Gladio mmmay or have thought about something similar on occasion in the past, and he's not sure what that says about him.

Nothing, the little voice in the back of his head says. If anything it just means you're a sap, Amicitia. Get it together.

It takes a long while for his thoughts to really re-organize themselves. For the first ten seconds he's all too content to lean his head into Law's hand and let the purring get louder, eyes falling half-shut. The next fifteen — when he starts to get on in there behind his ear and go to town — gets him breathing heavier, and if there's drool on his end then shut up don't @ him, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dog-dollars. But that pull to his horn seems to kick something into gear.

His free hand paws Law's opposite hip and thigh, pulling at the remainder of his clothing and raking blunt nails over soft skin (scars and all). He doesn't need to voice what he wants when his actions do the work for him; Please. Yes. Want that. Legs, up. Let me in. Take me. ]}

Why th'hell would I laugh? You got any idea how fuckin' hot that is? 'Course you do. I can feel it—

_{[ A gentle squeeze, and a low groan slips out when Law's fingers find that Good Magical Spot behind his ear. Astrals, save him. ]}

Six, Law, I swear I'd never laugh at any of it. Be pretty stupid since I thought 'bout it once or twice when we'd get done throwing each other 'round in the arena...

From:

counterattack

[ He has an idea, alright, and he can pretend to be normal about it all he wants, but his body doesn't lie—as soon as Gladio points it out to him, he twitches in his hand, a hard exhale escaping his parted lips. There are a lot of emotions in that breath: relief, rough humor, satisfaction, need... probably more than that, too. As that hand rakes down, he bends his legs and squirms against the bed to help get those damn clothes off, trying not to devolve into outright kicking and thrashing to free himself. Might wind up kicking something somewhere the wrong way, and if there's one thing they're probably both well aware of, even in this state, it's that you do not want to get kicked by Law. Even accidentally, close-up. It's gonna hurt. ]

Mmh... wish you'd gone for it. I always thought you were holding back. Not the sparring, but how— how close you could get. But then sometimes you'd— and I'd just—

[ God. Groaning under his breath, he fails to finish a sentence there, but does he really need to? They're both thinking about it now, those rough-and-tumble times when they'd come right up to that line dividing a particularly physical but otherwise professional spar and something else. One of them pinned, both of them panting, tangled up in the dirt and thinking what if, what if, what if. For Law, that tension was thick enough that it'd have taken a sword to cut it, not a knife. Sometimes he'd want to stay and ride that high out, finish strong, but sometimes—god, nope, he had to tap out. Hit the showers. Hit the showers hard (metaphorically speaking, but y'know). If the adrenaline was wild for him back then, it's almost overwhelming now. His hands switch positions, one on his horn, pulling him in, and the other raking behind his ear. ]

I always thought you could get more flexible than that, too. But I was afraid to push you past that point, 'cause I was afraid I... I wouldn't have been able to take my hands off you.

[ Clearly, that was a valid concern, because that's exactly the predicament he's finding himself in now. No amount of contact is enough, from the way he works his fingers along the ridge of his ear to how his bent knee brushes against his hip, arching eagerly into his curled fingers. Dahnans have a three hundred year history of not really knowing how to get what they want, or what to do with it if they do manage to get it. He'd always thought he was better than the average person, raised by headstrong rebels and going around with a group of resistance fighters and liberators. At the end of the day, though, he'd balked at the idea left, right, and center, and now? Maybe he's making up for it a little. It's in the doing, and in the admitting of, all those things he couldn't or wouldn't before. ]

I'm not gonna hold back anymore. I wanna see what you're really capable of.

From:

indeferent

_{[ Gladio is, and has been, putty in Law's hands starting from the first time he'd actually touched him today. Like, actually touched him. Now he's practically melting. If he thought the scratch-n-rubs at the tavern were good, this was damn near orgasmic without any of the mess. He's so pliant that even the subtle pull to the other side has him chasing the contact point of Law's fingers, his hand slipping down to touch the back of that knee stretched out against his own flank. Only after it moves out of his reach and presses against his hip does he urge himself into motion. A tilt of his head, a kiss to the bellybutton, a lazy grin, and he tops it off with a barely-there nip, too. ]}

I'd say I can get stuck in downward dog for you, but I dunno if my legs could hold out long enough. M'probably capable of the one that's sorta like that one though, the uh... face down-ass up one. With the arched back.

_{[ Is he implying-slash-offering? Gladio? Yeah, yeah he is. He's no coward. It's even tempting to rearrange himself into said pose too, but then he'd miss out on two very important things: The first being the friction he gets against the bed while laying on his stomach, and the second and probably most important is he might lose that perfect angle for Law's fingers to attack his everything. But he can do it, and he'll prove it if he's gotta.

Getting his head back on straight takes half an eternity as far as his mind is concerned. The way Law looks at him whenever Gladio looks up sends nothing but warmth throughout his body, the bulk of it settling around his heart. It almost hurts when he thinks about how many people have actually looked at him like that and realizes the number comes up incredibly small. How could he not see it before? Why didn't he act on it when he thought he'd first noticed something? The worry that he was misreading signals, for one. Even if he could never have Law like this — Gladio's cheek pillowed above his pelvis, fingers wrapped and teasing a stiff dick he'd only felt once or twice before thanks to adrenaline and those gorgeous eyes that remind him of the sea looking at him as if he were everything — he could've at least kept him as a friend.

Now they both know there's definitely, one-hundred percent something there. Now they're both willing to take that chance, and Gladio even has a date coming out of it. The thought pulls a heady, content laugh from him and... yeah, he's happy. Really, really fucking happy. The pursuer becomes the pursued, and another laugh slips out to intermingle with the broken-ass purring. He's overcome with the urge to kiss him but doing that would also mean abandoning his place, so he settles for turning his head towards Law's hand and presses his lips against his palm.

Suddenly something hits him. A recent memory, and it's one that makes Gladio grin into his palm. ]}

By the way... I think 'm ready for that dare.

From:

counterattack

[ Somehow, Law manages a laugh. Somehow, because it feels like now, with his cock in Gladio's hand and that mouth harassing his scars, feels like an absolutely ridiculous time to laugh, but here he is. Hard to be nervous and uptight when you're laughing, either. His head lolls back, eyes closing, his back lifted in a perfect arch off the bed, and for a moment, he really looks like he's just basking in all of this. It's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but it all could have gone much worse. If they'd drank just a little bit more, too sloppy and stupid to talk, this could've been a rushed and forgettable hookup and nothing else. Or maybe it wouldn't be happening at all, since they would've just passed out instead. When he tilts his chin back down, his nose crinkles a little when he smiles. ]

Arched back, huh? I'll get you to bend over backwards. Then we'll talk.

[ One of these days, he's gonna have to show him. Funnily enough, even all this talk and all those really sexually charged sessions have yet to make him realize his own appeal, mostly because he's yet to hear anything that'd indicate to him it'd be appreciated. That, and he's not creative enough to know just how far that level of flexibility will take him. But he'll find out.

His fingers trail down Gladio's jaw and then fall away, followed shortly after by his second hand. He could keep going at those ears all day, especially now that he knows what a trigger they are, but he needs at least one hand free to prop himself up on his bent elbow, and he's hoping to have a whole lot more to do with his hands soon enough. Frankly, he'd forgotten about the game that got them here, to this moment, but when he catches on, he grins, too. ]

Dare you to show me what you've got in the arma— army— arm-thingy that's supposed to be so messy. Buuut...

[ Ah. It's only when his tongue ghosts across his lower lip that he tastes blood and realizes it's properly bleeding, but even if he probably should, he doesn't bother to wipe the trail of it off his mouth (or his chin, or the side of his neck... whoops). He'll get to it in a minute. ]

...Y'gotta let me use whatever it is on you.

From:

indeferent

_{[ Oh, that little shit. For a moment he blinks up at him and it's almost comical with how unfocused-and-still-focused his eyes are, that doofy smile of his growing that much bigger because of that laugh. The way his back arches gives Gladio the perfect chance to pry his hand away from his waist and slips it under his hips and spine, bringing him that much closer and into his face. Sure, it's a bit of an awkward way to smother himself in the guy but it works and that's what matters. There's also a nice little bonus to it, too. ]}

Backwards? It's like you wanna break me or somethin'.

_{[ He never was as flexible as some people and while it drove him up the wall at first, he's over it. It didn't take him long to realize that he didn't have to be as bendy as Ignis to do his job and while some of those six-awful poses look strangely comfortable, he's also content to stick with the stretches he knows he can do. It doesn't stop him from appreciating it on other people too which is also a nice little perk. What can he say? Sometimes it was damn hard to not stare at Law. He didn't know the name of a handstand lotus, only that it looked good.

And... it might even be something he could do eventually. He's already got the whole handstand pushup thing on lockdown, so how much harder could it be to cross his legs and hold himself up?

The loss of his hands cradling his face and ears pulls an honest-to-gods whine (though he'll deny it forever), and it takes everything in Gladio's power to not follow him up to kiss him. That, for once, is something he eventually lets himself fail and succumb to. He pulls himself up the length of Law's body in one motion to take exactly what he wants, blood or no blood. He'll go back down where he belongs in a minute, he just wants to... He wants to do this. Needs to. It'll eat away at him if he doesn't. The first one goes right smack on the mouth, tongue snaking out to swipe across Law's lower lip and then laying on the sort of kiss he should've gotten ages ago. None of that church kissing here, sorry not sorry. When he has to part he does it with a breathless laugh, followed by a shorter, more chaste one. ]}

Just promise you won't get it all gunked up in my hair if you go grabbin' at it. The, uh. Bottle it originally came in broke, so...

_{[ On the upside he only needs one hand for it. Reaching out to his connection with the armiger, he falls silent for a few moments and takes the opportunity to lower himself back down between Law's knees where he belongs. Then, a flash of blue appears in his empty hand and with it, a Copalli-made jar. That's when he has to let go of Law, just for a moment. He wordlessly takes Law by the wrist with one hand, the other dipping into the pot and scooping out a clear sort of goop which just sort of. Oozes from them for a second until he scrapes part of it into that waiting palm. The rest stays on Gladio, and with a quick brush of his lips across his scar, he returns his hand to his cock and strokes him once from root to base. Slowly. ]}

S'just lube. Another thing from the dragon 'cause the stuff they make here stinks too much.

_{[ At least for his poor, stupid, delicate Behemoth senses. It really doesn't smell bad, it's just... Stupid biological changes, man. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Honestly, he's so starved for that kiss—and the second one—that it's almost a shame when it ends. Like so much else tonight, it's something he knew he wanted but couldn't have said how badly until he's finally got it, and it's hard to let go once he does. It'd almost be enough just to stay like that the whole rest of the day, tracing his tongue against Gladio's, surging up and closer to him. But of course he's got his heart set on more, and he's not about to chicken out of getting it this time. (Well, okay, to be fair, neither he nor Prompto chickened out of anything, it just... wasn't the right time, maybe. The chemistry was there, but it wasn't explosive in the way that made them fall all over each other like this, and although Law had felt perfectly right about that decision, he also hadn't quite understood why he'd made it, ultimately, or why Prompto had. Now, though, he's pretty sure he knows exactly why: because both of them had their hearts set elsewhere. Prompto's on that fat dweeb Noctis, and Law's on...

Well. Not Gladio, either, not just yet. But anyways, that's enough of that.) ]

Ahahaha... oh. I know what that is.

[ Wait. Fuck, why did he say that? That's so stupid! Even drunk Law knows that was lame! His cheeks heat as that slick substance dribbles from Gladio's fingers and into his own hand, and although it's tempting, he resists the urge to close his fist in it and make a disgusting mess. His experience with this sort of thing is, uh, decidedly less luxurious, but like... come on. Who doesn't know what that is? Geez, Law.

It's just lucky for him that he's got a perfect distraction in the instantly ten times more overwhelming sensation of having his dick stroked with something much more slick than spit or precum. It damn near floors him right back to the mattress, sucking in a sharp gasp through his teeth but still not able to bite back the strangled noise that wends its way out through his nose. Damn, that's really good. ]

Nn—now I'm kinda wondering what your big plan was there. I can definitely think of a thing or two.

From:

indeferent

Humor me.

_{[ It comes out as more of a murmur thanks to how close he has his lips to his belly, trailing lower until he reaches the beginning of that trail of hair. He's still intent on taking his sweet time and savoring the moment as much as he can, and he's equally set on sating his hunger for touch and affection. If he has to act like an oversized cat to get it? Then he's doing it. Plus it's... actually pretty nice getting to indulge. Sure, he knows that now that they've stepped (jumped) over the line they'd both been toeing for months that there'll be nothing stopping them, but you never know when something'll happen. Better to take as much of it as he can while he's got the chance, you know? ]}

Maybe we're on the same page?

_{[ They already work well together in a fight so that wouldn't be too much of a stretch in his book. For now, he keeps glancing up between Law's face and the easy, steady motion of his wrist. At some point he slows his strokes to a near crawl, and that's when he finally makes his move. His hand slides down to the base of his cock, fingers squeezing and his head bows to plant a small kiss to the head. His hand moves back up, and he exhales. The other nice thing is it doesn't taste nearly as foul to his senses like the Copalli-make stuff does, and thank the gods for that or else he might've only resorted to spit.

He'll have to ask the dragon for more if this keeps up. Just in case. ]}

From:

counterattack

M-Mmmmh...maybe...

[ How's a guy supposed to think like this? It's like torture, those slow, slow touches, and then the heat of his breath, the brush of his lips. Law's head falls back, throat exposed, and the fingers of his empty hand clench hard in the blankets. The sound he makes is—well, let's put it this way: you don't always have to be raucous and loud for something to sound absolutely filthy. Sometimes the muted, hoarse and plaintive little gasps and cries can be downright pornographic in their own right.

As for saying what he's thinking out loud, though, that's a little nerve-wracking. He wants to find some way around it, but that just isn't his style, is it? Especially not tonight, where these naked truths have set him free in more ways than one or two. It hasn't even been a whole hour, so it certainly isn't as though he can blame the way he balks, at first, on sobriety catching up to him, it's just... man, that's explicit. It's explicit for someone who's never had the occasion to say anything like it out loud before, anyway. Not even something he's ever talked about with his own friends, his parents, anyone like that. But, as has been the case so many times since they stumbled into this room and put their hands on each other, Law finds his lips loosened by distraction and sensation. Gladio coaxes it out of him with his fingers and his mouth, with the smoldering look in his eyes. ]

Do you... do you wanna take this all the way? Because I, uh, if you do... I do, too. I dunno much, but I know how it... works.

[ He finishes a bit lamely, but at least it wasn't as lame as what he said earlier. His thumb and forefinger rub together, warming the lube up between them, but the sensation just makes it almost impossible for him not to squirm. Not because it really feels that good to the touch, but because of where it takes his mind the instant he does it. ]

If you don't, that's okay. I just—I already told you, I just really... wanna be with you. I don't care how, so long as it feels right. And this all feels right to me.

From:

indeferent

_{[ Honesty really was the best thing in this case. For a moment Gladio nearly stops, lips parted and brow furrowed as he listens with both ears tilted forward as if he's afraid to miss a single word. He lets it all sink in, and when Law murmurs "it all feels right" he lets himself relax and spread his fingers underneath his back. It's a mite cramped and hard to do, but he hopes he still gets his point across. Good. If there's one thing Gladio always admired about Law, it's how certain he sounded when he set his mind on something. That's something he wishes he had when he was younger, but he also knows it's something one usually has to work up to.

The fact that Law feels confident enough to be like that with Gladio means a lot. Like he's worthy. Worth something. More than what the bluebloods of Insomnia saw him as. More than... he sees himself as sometimes. Gilgamesh had tempered him, but there were still flaws in the steel that made up an Amicitia.

Sometimes a cracked weapon needed another set of eyes. This time, Gladio looks up into teal instead of red, and instead of feeling like his entire being was cracked open and put on display, there's... comfort. Comfort, confidence, and something so earnest that he wants to keep for as long as he can. Flings or otherwise, he wants to see that same look again and again. The pad of his thumb traces little patterns here and there with each slow, downward pull of his wrist as he thinks. Or pretends to think, anyway. He already knows his answer, he just needed to hear it from Law again. ]}

How... do you wanna do it? 'Cause I... Yeah, I do. S'just gonna be different depending on what you want.

_{[ A beat, and Gladio shifts against the bed. There's a damp spot that he needs to scoot out of, okay? So what if he's getting more and more keyed up the longer he thinks about this and the possibilities? ]}

I can get you off here, then... We use the downtime to... Y'know.

From:

counterattack

[ It's easy for things to all feel right when you're this tanked and this touch starved, but he still could've chosen much worse than this. Of all the people to be drunk and stupid with, at least he picked a good, honorable guy. The kind of guy that says stuff like I don't want your dad pissed at me before this whole thing starts off and isn't the kind of coward that'll act like it's all business as usual the next day, or blow him off, or treat it like it's nothing. Obviously, Law has only known him in a few ways, none of them quite so biblical, but he's always had a good feeling about Gladio, ever since the beginning. He wouldn't have gone out of his way to help them as much as he did if he hadn't instantly gotten the sense that he (and the others) were people he could trust. And it's only grown from there.

He should probably try to look less surprised at the answer he gets, but there's just no helping it—Law's eyes widen, face flushing in an instant. You see? This is what happens when you actually shoot those shots. Although, really, he's not sure what he would've expected Gladio to say—nah, not interested? That's too much? Somehow, that's almost even more difficult to picture. ]

O-Oh. Wow, uh.

[ Fuck, he has to choose? He's not an indecisive kind of person, but when every single option is like a punch straight to the gut in only the best sort of way, it gets really hard to narrow things down. There he goes, worrying that poor lip of his again, but it's healed over enough that it doesn't immediately start bleeding this time. It's going to be so swollen that when he meets up with everyone later, they'll think he got hit in the mouth or something, though. That'll be fun to explain. ]

I... well... what do you like to do best? I can totally handle it either way. Or—I mean, we could always do both. Both ways.

[ When every option looks good? Choose "all of the above." Listen, he's never heard of this not being possible! Dream big! (There's no way they're not gonna pass out halfway through this mess.) ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Wow is one way of putting it. Gladio stares up at him and blinks once, twice, then snorts against his skin with another lopsided grin. That's. Huh, yeah, that's what he gets for asking the guy with barely any experience, huh? Somehow he should've seen that one coming considering that Gladio had been just like that when he'd started fooling around. The first time was with a girl so it was... not quite easier as a whole but it was easier to figure things out. With another guy? That's where things got tricky. And awkward if his memory serves right, but he's grown up since then. That particular man had been pushier, but that was only because Gladio had relied on his own bravado and didn't think with the right head.

His hand wiggles down to awkwardly grab at the base of Law's tail, not quite squeezing but just sort of. Holding on. Up with those hips, c'mon. Throw that leg over his shoulder so he can go wild. ]}

I'm not picky but this isn't about me—It's about you.

_{[ Tilting his head a little, Gladio presses a kiss to each spot his thumb touches. He could simply take matters into his own hand and swallow him down, but... No. Not this time. They both need this, he thinks, and he'll be damned if he doesn't take the chance to really worship Law like he ought to be. He's done so much not just for Gladio and the guys, but this world as a whole. He deserves it.

He deserves everything he could ever ask for and with the Astrals as his witness he wants to try and provide what he can. ]}

Doesn't matter if I'm in your lap or I got you in mine, I... Look, as stupid as this probably sounds? I just wanna be able to see your face. I want...

_{[ Gladio's not sure, exactly. He wants to make Law feel safe. Good. Protected. Loved. Voicing that is just a little... it's hard, okay? ]}

I wanna see it all.

From:

counterattack

It is?

[ Hello? Birthday boy? Oh yeah. Strangled, Law laughs and only just barely manages not to sound awkward about it. ]

Oh. Well—okay, yeah, but like, it can't be just about one person with this stuff, right? It's about what we both want. I just figured you have a better idea of what that is, since... y'know.

[ He is, naturally, completely and utterly clueless to the concept of being spoiled. To him, spoiled is what Renans are, or maybe even, in extra-rare circumstances, Dahnans that're sellouts and basically kept like pets. That wasn't very common in Cyslodia, but he knows it's happened. It's the sort of thing people would whisper about, Nobody reports on her because she's some guard's favorite. Even if it wasn't a sex thing (but let's be real, it was usually a sex thing), you had to get in good and cozy with someone in a position of power to enjoy any kind of special benefits, and that's just not something someone like him could or would ever experience. He's not much used to attention in general, considering how independent he had to be growing up.

But at the very least, he's not letting whatever lack of experience and understanding, or his own hangups, stand in his way here. As Gladio presses up on the base of his tail, Law raises his hips, arching into him, and although it takes him a moment to catch on, when he does pick his leg up to drape it over his shoulder, he gets it to bend so high, so easily, that he can bump it against one of Gladio's horns while the rest of him stays propped in place on the bed. ]

But... yeah, that's kinda what I want, too. I don't wanna miss anything. S-So... after this, you can show me how it's done. That's how it'll go.

From:

indeferent

_{[ See? This is why he's so damn attached. He could ask for literally anything in this world and Gladio would do what he could to grant it in a heartbeat, and he's being so... so... Law. There's a moment of quiet that settles in the air as Gladio digests it, and then realization seems to dawn on him. His fingers press into his tail that much more, his own ears flicking in interest and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from questioning "Really?" and saying something stupid.

Shit. Right, let him think here for a second. C'mon, sober part of his brain, work! ]}

You want...

_{[ Shiva's tits he must look and sound like he'd taken a Spiracorn kick to the head right about now, his words failing him. Another pause, and he slips his fingers to brush along the underside of Law's tail as best as he can, then pulls them down lower to tease at the cleft of his ass. Questioning. ]}

You're sure? Gimme a yes or no, 'cause... Six—

_{[ He wants it too. More than he feels like he verbally admit, but luckily his body speaks for him. It's all in the way his ears lift, the look of absolute pining in his eyes, the dark flush that settles across his throat and the back of his neck, and the persistent ache of his cock that he can barely alleviate against the bed. Law comes — ha — first, then Gladio can worry about himself. This was, like he said, about him. Even if it wasn't his birthday that was how it'd be. He's a big romantic underneath the scars and muscle no matter what others might think of him and only those who know him get to see just how much of one he is. ]}

I'll show you how it's done. Better than I was during my first time, and... Then next time, you'll have me. You won't even have to take me out to dinner for it unless that's somethin' you wanna do.

From:

counterattack

[ There's a quiet intake of breath, tension riveting through him as Gladio's hand slips lower, but if you think that's trepidation, you've got another thing coming (heh). He has absolutely no defense against the look on Gladio's face, and even if he could overlook that, he can't overlook how he feels, himself. He wants it bad. ]

Yeah, I'm sure.

[ Simple as that. Argue about whether he really knows what he's asking for, what he's doing here, any of that, some other time. Not today. How is anyone supposed to go their whole life unable to feel much of anything supposed to resist finally having the chance to take that all away? Not just physically, but—being wanted, cared about, like he's someone's first choice. Whether that's even true or not, right now, it feels like he is. It all feels right. ]

Oh, I'll take you out, alright. And get you flowers, and sweep you off your feet, and... all that stuff. Like I was gonna before I got injured. Just gotta add candles and rose petals 'n whatever to the list now.

[ See, he remembered. The romance novel-y schmoopy stuff. Technically he'd proved he'd remembered once already, when he got the gladioli for Gladio's birthday, and that was a challenge considering he'd been out of his absolute mind on rank, ancient painkillers at the time. It's been burning a hole in the back of his mind ever since, though, how he was too busted up to really go all the way with it. Some big, grand gesture to prove he cared, that it wasn't just some passing interest that he'd be over and bored with in five minutes.

Y'know what? Now he can do it. Or, well, next time. This time... well, he's only got one thing he can say about this time: ]

I trust you.

[ That's not easy for a Cysloden brat to say (or actually mean), but luckily for him, he's built from stronger stuff than what he went through. It doesn't define him. Not anymore. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ It's funny how those three words carry as much weight as the other Big Three. They didn't have a lot to offer in this world beyond blind trust at the start of it all — people could lace their words with all the honey in the world and none of it would mean anything without it, and Gladio learned long ago that trust was earned, not given. They'd made the mistake of showing it to an enemy once before. Even with the vow to watch their backs, they still... Mistakes were made. His nostrils flare as he quashes the memory down in favor of more pleasant things, a pleased sound escaping the minute it fades.

Law trusts him. Law trusts him, and Gladio's heart damn near skips a beat. Even his wrist and hand falter for a breath, the rhythm slowly picking back up once he regains his senses and smiles. Yeah, he's glad Law was the one to come to his — their — rescue all those months ago. And to show his appreciation for it he bows his head and plants another kiss to the tip of Law's cock. Then a second, and his tongue swipes over to steal a taste of what'll be waiting for him. As if he means to coax more of it out, Gladio squeezes and holds him steady so he can take the head into his mouth. He doubts he can swallow him to the root in one go in his current state, but at least he can work as much of him down his throat as possible. Besides...

He's got hands. Well, one. The other pulls out from under his back to blindly reach for the jar so he can dip his fingers back into it and with a bit of awkward fumbling, bumps one of his knees with an elbow. Keep them up. Spread.

It'll be easier, he thinks. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Even knowing that it's coming, Law's not ready for what it feels like when it happens. Each kiss makes him arch, but as he sinks into the heat of Gladio's mouth, he almost loses it right then and there. His head lolls back again, a groan eking its way out from the pit of his chest, and rather than keep his fist clenched in the blankets, he curls it into Gladio's hair, fingers spreading across the top of his head, but not pressing down. As for the other one, well, he kind of forgets it's still got lube on it and that's ending up in his own hair, but honestly? The, uh, slicked-back look really works for him these days, so... go off, king.

Keeping his hips up is easy business with how urgently his body wants to arch, and with his right leg secure over Gladio's shoulder, his left, the one that isn't as weak, doesn't have any issues holding himself up as it bends. For a moment, he thinks that he should say something, admit he's probably not going to last, but first of all, words completely fail him in favor of gasping and trying not to be too noisy, and secondly, well, he doesn't know whether he'll come apart that fast or not. Besides, why spoil things by saying something like that? This is way too good a moment for him to be running his mouth. ]

That's... wow. You're really good at that...

[ Well. Mostly not run his mouth. But it's the truth, alright? It's the truth as far as he knows it, and he's pretty sure he doesn't need experience to be able to discern "feels good" from "doesn't feel good." It's universal. And Gladio is universally talented. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Really good doesn't cut it for Gladio but he knows he can't take it as far as he'd like today. Maybe now that the unspoken things sitting between them were out in the open he could haul Law somewhere and give it to him the right way one of these days, but for now the Shield has to settle for what he can. He's only spurred on by the feeling of Law pulling at his hair, the motion pulling a low groan out of him that intermingles with the persistent purr that has since been reduced to something akin to a peaceful cat rather than the several-ton beast it originally belonged to. What he can't do, he makes up for with those little tricks, his hands, and when he has to pull off to breathe, his lips.

He's sure he'll feel it in his throat come morning but he can't be assed to care about a gravelly voice right now. Who'll care, anyway? Not him, and he knows the others won't even think of it. Well, they might when they see the bruises but beyond that it'd be easy to pass off as a harmless cold or even choking on something else. What he cares about more is those wonderous sounds that Law makes, each one making his ears perk up in interest and to hear them better. Each exhale, every keen and warbled syllable, all of it may as well be the sweetest thing he's heard in a very, very long time.

At one point when he isn't trying to swallow all of him and he's got his nose buried in the crook of his thigh, Gladio glances up and lets the flat, smooth side of a canine kiss sensitive skin. He's in no danger of being bitten or anything untoward, it's just a reminder that he's there. ]}

'n you taste better than I was expecting.

_{[ Y'know, considering the sort of food they have and don't have on Copalli, even with people requesting seeds and whatnot from their own worlds to cultivate. Taking a breath he presses an open-mouthed kiss and a half-suck to his balls, then takes the rest of him back into his mouth with a content hum. Come on, Firecracker. Show me what you've got. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Every second that Law misses out on watching Gladio work him over is a real shame, considering how long he had to live with certain mental images in his head, but he can't seem to get control of his body long enough to do anything about it. Laid out in total surrender to how overwhelmingly good everything feels, head thrown back, he can only express himself in plaintive noises and broken syllables that were never going to be words in the first place. His only anchor is his fingers in Gladio's hair, his hand on the back of his head, not needing to push or pull him any which way because as far as he's concerned, it couldn't possibly get any better. And that's without realizing just how good he actually has it, being swallowed down so expertly, the attention of Gladio's hands—that's not the sort of head just anyone is capable of giving, okay.

Honestly, not having anything to compare him to can only work in Gladio's favor. Law already appreciates the most minor of things, so anything extra is overkill. And he doesn't fail to express appreciation, even if it is just a hoarse ruckus, the sounds almost shocked, disbelieving, which is exactly right: he can't grasp any of this in only the best of ways.

His hands shake, one clenched back in the blanket and the other petting through Gladio's hair again and again, which is essentially emotional support during the Experience he's having. He doesn't know the etiquette of giving a guy any warning when he's about to hit the edge, but really, he doesn't need to know it; he gives it away just based on reactions, how sharp his gasps are, the pitch of his voice, the arch of his back, the tremble in his muscles. It's quick, but he sure held his own for a few minutes there. Hips bucking, he sinks his teeth into his lip and then lets it go again, managing exactly one coherent word as he shudders and spills:

Fuck.

He'll come up with something a little more romantic the next time, sorry. At least it gets the point across. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ See, Gladio can't even bring himself to tease Law even if he wanted to. Why? Because he's been there. He didn't last the first few times and his own responses were anything but eloquent amidst his own incoherent babbling. Obviously he's gotten better, but he knows what it's like. He can't help his own low, muffled moan of appreciation at a particular sharp yank of his hair, followed by an equally pleased exhale upon feeling Law's fingers carding through it and petting it back. Touchy, remember? It's almost just enough to distract him from the task at hand. Nearly, but not quite. Any other time and Gladio might've pushed through until the very end, not letting up until he was good and well spent.

He doesn't do any of that this time. The first splash hits, and he pulls off just in time to catch the rest of it on his lips, chin, tongue and even a bit on his cheek. Law did mention the cooking competition after all and it gives Gladio ample time to both catch his breath, and if he's allowed to be selfish? Commit as much detail of Law's face to memory. That's one for the ol' spank bank for sure and he can't even feel guilty about it.

And... it's a chance to try and calm himself down, too. He's so wound up that it's almost painful between his belly and the bed, but Law was his priority. It always will be. In the meantime Gladio tilts his head further into Law's hand and thigh, a content and lazy smile spreading across his face. Absolutely touch-starved, this one. ]}

You good up there?

From:

counterattack

[ Nope, he is definitely not good. He's fucking dead. Panting and shivering, temporarily gone completely boneless so that his hands only rest where they are, his legs slack where they've fallen open, but super dead. He realizes he's staring straight up at the ceiling, as one does when they need, like, nothing short of a higher power to spare them from oblivion, and it feels like it takes until the last shudder, the last drop to be spilled before he actually manages to blink. ]

Um—

[ Oh, yeah, I'm great, is what he wants to say, but all he can do is let out a hopeless breath of a laugh. "Great" isn't even scratching the surface. The "how awesome does Law feel right now" iceberg runs so unfathomably deep. It takes a few breaths, a moment of curling his fingers against the side of Gladio's head, before he comes back down to earth (or whatever planet this is) and chances a glance down, his grin as hopeless as his laugh. ]

Yeah, I... I... oh. Wow. Holy crap.

[ Just kidding, dead again. Half of Gladio's face covered in burger juice has been deleted from his brain, the file has been saved over with that image. Funnily enough, he looks about the same as he did the day of the cookoff, though, just about. Wide-eyed, slack-jawed, completely at the mercy of Gladio's unfair good looks and his own horny teenage boy mind, only this time there's no need to conflate otherwise innocent things for something else. This is the genuine article in dirty shit he'll never unsee for as long as he lives, and he'll die grateful for it. ]

N...Never been better. How, uh, how're you holding up?

[ Cool. Casual. Fucking slain. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Yeah, now he laughs. He laughs and drags his tongue over his lip to collect at least some of the mess, one eye closing while he leans his head into Law's hand like a needy, attention-seeking dog. This right here was proooooobably one of his favorite parts — coming down from that high and floating in the sea of afterglow with barely a thought in his head. How could he not when it means he gets to peer up at Law's face the entire time? That's another one for The Bank and it's not even inherently sexual. I mean, it is, but it's just enough to toe the line for his imagination. ]}

Perfect.

_{[ Debauched. Mostly. Almost. It's close and he can't be assed to go with the proper definition for it. He feels Law's thumb move and he tilts to follow it, chasing and catching the pad between his teeth. He... Astrals, he wants to haul himself up and tuck the guy into his side for at least a little bit, but he's damn near afraid to move. Not like it's a bad thing though. ]}

Y'won't freak out if I kiss you, will you? I know some people ain't into that after having their dick in someone's mouth, so... Figured I'd ask first.

_{[ Gladio sure as hell doesn't have a problem with it. He knows where that mouth been and he's no coward. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ Gladio laughs, and Law probably would've died inside ordinarily, but now? Even though he's absolutely losing his mind (even moreso when that tongue swipes out—there is no way he will ever, ever get that image out of his head as long as he lives), he cracks a dazed smile in return. There's just no stopping it, really. It's overwhelming, but mostly in that "everything he could've ever dreamed of" way. What's not to smile about?

His fingers rub behind Gladio's ear the way he sometimes does to that braindead Fang of his when he does something right (and sometimes just because), affectionate and a little playful. And, carefully, he eases his leg up and off of Gladio's shoulder to set it back on the bed. Should that be something to freak out about? Law's uncertain for only a moment, wondering what it is that the problem would be—the taste, maybe? I mean, his face is still covered in... and... well, okay, yeah, it's probably definitely that. But first of all, he really wants that kiss, dammit, and secondly? He ain't a weenie. ]

Mm-mm. C'mere, kiss me.

[ Grabby-hands and all. In fact—he'll just use those grabbing hands to take hold of Gladio's horns and pull him up, propping himself on his elbow so he can meet him partway. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ If Law keeps that up he might just die himself — he's wound tight enough that it the feeling goes from his ear and straight down his spine like a shot, and coupled with the sudden grab-n-pull to his horns? There's no way that Gladio has a chance to stifle the half-pleased half-needy groan that comes from it. The only reason it gets cut short is his mouth meeting Law's, and even then the rest of it just winds up muffled rather than straight up silenced. Maybe, he starts to think, these things aren't so bad. Especially if Law keeps dragging him around by them. So what if he's a little self conscious about the damn horns? They're clearly handy, and... Law doesn't shy away from touching them.

He continues to let him pull him this way and that until Gladio has his upper body sprawled out across Law, hands on either side of his head and one stretching his fingers out to tease at his hair. The other remains buried in the blankets, while he tries to keep the rest of him angled in such a way that he doesn't A) put his full weight on Law, and B) keep himself from stabbing him in the side with his dick. And, y'know, to keep himself from actively rutting against his hip because it's incredibly tempting to do because of that little ear scratch, but he's trying to behave himself.

Keyword being try.

This time when he has to break the kiss to breathe, he doesn't go far. Gladio keeps his forehead pressed against Law's so that when he speaks he may as well be exchanging his words from mouth-to-mouth. And if he uses it as an excuse to kiss up whatever mess winds up on Law's lips too? Then that's a bonus. ]}

Anyone ever tell you that you're incredible? M'serious.

_{[ It sure as hell isn't the booze talking. ]}

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