A LAWFUL WASTELAND

[counterattack]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[indeferent]

<sub>[ 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. ]</sub>

'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. ]}

[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. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ 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. ]</sub>

You good up there?

[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. ]

[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. ]}

[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. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ 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. ]</sub>

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

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

[counterattack]

[ As incredible as having Gladio's mouth on him was, the instant satisfaction Law feels at having him close again is almost equally overwhelming. He can't get his hands on him fast enough, relinquishing his horns to drag his fingers down his back, over his flanks, back up the backs of his arms, through his hair—everywhere, and all the while arching himself up to press even closer to him. And... he could be a total ween about the taste (and the psychological aspect, maybe) of his own cum, but honestly, it's not that offensive. Or maybe he's just too drunk to care, too desperate for contact, to remember to even think about it as he's parting his lips and sweeping his tongue in, kissing Gladio for all he's worth.

Over'n out after one round? Absolutely not. ]

Mmh—no, but... how'm I the incredible one here? I haven't even done anything. Yet.

[ Well, okay, he hasn't done nothing here, but still, he'll never be satisfied that he's all that special until... well, who knows what it'll take for him to get there, really. Either way, he murmurs that yet into the scant space between their mouths with intention. Both legs catch around Gladio's waist, calves crossed at the small of his back with his only coherent thought being that it'll keep him close and that it feels good to do, never mind about positions and mechanics. Tripping and falling accidentally into things he probably shouldn't know to say or do as a first-timer is kind of his whole method for existing, it's just never worked out for him so well before. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Strong legs cinch tight and pull Gladio flush and solid against Law, and yet the brush of wandering hands over his body feels so much more in comparison. It's the ghosting of fingers across the insides of his arms that gets a shiver from the Shield, and blunt nails digging into the shoulders of the eagle to make his breath come out in a shaky yes. That too gets swallowed by their next kiss and for a time the only thing he can do to signal that Law hits all the right spots is an eager shift of his hips, grinding and sliding against the crease of his thigh. What can he say? He's an incredibly easy man to please and the fact that it's Law hitting all those buttons and touching him in places he rarely feels only makes it that much better.

He's so caught up that he barely registers the faint taste of copper when he sucks a little too hard on Law's lip. Even so he knows that he'd speak up if it actually hurt or if he wound up getting too rough, so Gladio brushes it to the side and instead takes everything Law offers. At this point the alcohol is only an aftertaste — overpowered by the twinge of blood, come, and something distinctly belonging to the Dahnan.

Fuck if he can put his thumb on what it is, though at the end of the day it doesn't really matter. What matters most is going with the flow and chasing what feels right and good, which is something that they both know. Maybe Gladio has more experience but what Law lacks in it, he makes up for in enthusiasm and... hell, that's better in most cases. Fake it until you make it and all that jazz. ]</sub>

Yet, he says...

_{[ Once more against his mouth and Gladio huffs quietly, nose wrinkled and lips pulled into a grin. Another push and pull of his hips, his own hands slipping down to pull Law closer and into his rhythm— ]}

Always... always have been, Law.

_{[ His name comes out in a sound mixed between a groan and a growl, eyes squeezing shut. Breathe. Don't lose your cool. Go easy on him. ]}

[counterattack]

[ If anything, the faint sting of his chewed-to-hell lip reopening and beading with blood again just kind of adds to the cornucopia of sensations he's feeling and makes it even better. It's too soon to say whether he'll be the type to enjoy pain as pleasure someday or not, but this isn't even about that. None of it is, in Law's mind. He's just obsessed with how it feels to get his arms around Gladio's body and touch him, to pull him close and feel him move, to taste his tongue and feel his breath hot on his face. It's the same energy as someone who's gone far too long without a meal—he's been starving for contact, to feel physically good with another person, without having to be ever-conscious of maintaining that polite distance, that careful barrier. Walls torn down.

Obliterated, in this case. His breath is already starting to lengthen and pick up the longer it goes on, the wet sounds of their mouth broken up by soft murmurs and those, honestly, really attractive growls and purrs Gladio keeps making, the slide of his cock against this thigh, his hands grasping at him none too gently, but not hard enough to bruise—god, he almost feels another agonized fuck coming on.

Instead, he takes a breath, hmmmnning appreciatively at the sound of his name. His hips shift to meet Gladio's as he moves, squeezing with his legs so that he can keep his arms free to touch, grasping his shoulders, ruffling his hair, cupping his jaw and maybe... swiping away some of that leftover mess with his thumb. He's no mind-reader, but he knows a "holding back" look when he sees one. ]

I dunno how you haven't lost it... gotta be so pent up. I can handle it, if you're ready. I'm good. Or if there's something else... show me.

[ If he's so incredible, surely he'll be able to take it in stride. Anything and everything. That's how it feels right now, anyway. ]

[indeferent]

_{[ He really is fit to burst with the things Law murmurs between them, jumping and leaking against skin and the bruises he'd left with his teeth. It's the nails scratching against his beard and ghosting through his hair that get him to honest-to-Six-gasp in a way reminisce to a time he'd stepped in freezing cold water on the road. Sharp, a shit poised on the tip of his tongue, and a scrabbling motion with his hands as if he's so damn afraid of Law slipping away from him. Not hard enough to bruise — no, not yet — but Gladio knows that if he looks down he'll be able to see a matching set of small, crescent-shaped indents. He seems to realize this and forces himself to relax, thumbs smoothing over the "worst" looking ones with a low, keening noise of apology. ]}

If I'm inside of you right now there ain't no way in hell I'll last more than five seconds.

_{[ Beyond that there's no way in hell he's going to do that to him. Gladio knows he's... proportionate and he knows Law could handle it, he just isn't about to be one of those people. He's not a brute. Not a beast. Not a monster. His head turns to glance at the jar bouncing at their side, his lip between his teeth. Soon. ]}

I... _Fuck... Help me out here first. Touch me. Run your mouth. Do that thing with my ears again, anything...

_{[ He's on a hair trigger and knows it's not going to take much, and while he could easily get himself over that line on his own... Law did say he wanted to touch, right? And he hasn't shied away from anything yet. ]}

[counterattack]

H-Heh... at least then we'd be even.

[ There's no need for apologies, but Law brushes his mouth against the corner of Gladio's, murmuring placatingly, fingers trailing down his back as if to tell him it's okay. He can feel the urgency running through his body and wonders if that's how he was a moment ago (or, frankly, how he still is, a little bit—he may not have quite bounced all the way back yet, but god, it still kind of feels like he just can't get enough of anything). It's wild, and pretty heartening, to realize that's because of him. Before today, Law never could've imagined anyone looking at him the way Gladio has, wanting him the way he seems to. That's just always been... like a far-off dream. He's never felt like anyone's priority before, not in any sense of the word, at least not since he was little, when his mom was still alive.

But that kind of thing, that's different. This is... a new sort of power. How could he not feel confident after something like this? ]

Mmn... okay. Here we go.

[ Probably best to give him a warning before he rolls them over, which he does all too easily, squeezing his legs on either side of Gladio's hips and using mostly that plus a little momentum to tip them over and position himself on top. Who says close-quarters fighting can't give you an edge in bed, huh? He does that maneuver real smooth, his own limbs and body falling into place just so without anything getting knocked around. He just, uh... has to subtract the chokehold with his arm when he does it. Which he does remember to do, thankfully. But who knows, that might've been kinda hot, too.

And once they're flipped, well... he tries to do all those three suggestions at once: one hand reaching up to find that sweet spot behind one of Gladio's ears, the other trailing down into the space between their bodies to work Gladio's cock into the curl of his fingers, and finding something, anything to say in-between. ]

You and those ears... you're like my pet Fang. Sensitive in the same spot and everything. Should I call you "good boy" and all that, too?

[ Law, unwittingly traipsing into a kink he's never going to be able to unthink of in all kinds of pressing situations from here on out... ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ One arm flies up to loop around the back of Law's neck the instant his world starts to spin and for a moment he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep it from spinning too far. Thanks, shots! At least the groan that slips out isn't one of discomfort — far from it, honestly. He can count the number of people who can flip him without sending him on the defensive on one hand, and it just so happens that Law is one of them. The number who have done it like this is much, much lower and he's... actually pretty content to keep it where it is. Law does it so effortlessly that it takes Gladio a moment to realize just what had happened, and when it does it takes everything in his body to not melt underneath him.

He still can't help but relax a little bit, though. The arm across his shoulders loosens and Gladio bends a knee, pressing it against Law's hip and lets his legs fall open more, even further once Law wraps those slick fingers around the girth of him. That's better. That's all he needs and just like that Gladio tucks his chin down to bury the upper half of his face into the crook of Law's neck, lips parted in a quiet pant that becomes less so with the addition of the other set of fingers tucking behind his ear. Astrals, he'll never feel anything better if he ever returns to being fully human. ]</sub>

I ain't a fan—Ah, fuck!

<sub>[ Good boy.

Of all the things to send Gladio over, it's that. His breath catches, half-choked in his throat and his hips rock up once, twice into his hand. On the third, he spills over his fingers so damned hard his vision goes black and if those two words don't grab the Behemoth by the horns and shake it awake, he isn't sure what will. It'd happened once at the hot springs too, and a few times before when it'd be said in jest but he never quite thought much about the shiver it'd send down his spine until now.

That's... Six, that's a new one. ]</sub>

[counterattack]

[ Who's more shook, Gladio or Law? ...Well, okay, probably Gladio, considering, but Law sure as hell doesn't see that, heh, coming. He's just starting to find his groove, working two of his fingers into that soft, fuzzy spot right where the base of his ear leaves his skin, one and then the other, back and forth, scratchscratchscratch. Fortunately, Gladio's got the work covered for him as far as the other hand's concerned, and he's just let out a little laugh, ready to retort, when—

Oh.

Law pulls his head back to look—at Gladio's face, then between them, wide-eyed like he can't quite believe he's feeling what he thinks he's feeling, but... no, yeah, that really did it. He's not quite sure what part of that did it just yet, but it doesn't really matter. Watching him spill into his hand sends Law straight back to horny jail, and he makes a strangled, sympathetic sound of his own as he pumps his cock in his hand, grip just a little tight the way he'd ordinarily do for himself, wrenching it out of him. This is a sight he'll also not soon forget, no sirree. Not one single bit of it. ]

Damn, Gladio... you gonna live? You really were pent up.

[ He'd almost feel bad about it if not for how gratifying the payoff is. He's completely forgotten about any first-timer awkwardness somehow, too. No room for any of that with a reaction that strong. As the tension in Gladio's body eases and the twitch of his cock in his hand abates, Law's grip loosens, his thumb sliding over the dribbling tip. ]

Breathe... that's it.

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Is he going to live? Probably, but it wouldn't be such a bad way to go, would it? Even if it's Illegal™ for a Shield to go like that it sure as hell doesn't stop him from thinking about it in jest. Almost desperately, Gladio's fingers splay out across Law's shoulder and weakly rake across the ink sprawling up and over them with the scars, his breath coming and going in great, heaving pulls all while he comes down from the physical and emotional high. Law squeezes and that prompts him to slowly roll up to meet his grip, a sharp intake of breath going with it.

Only it's a different kind this time. Almost choked. Even when his hold loosens and he ekes out the last dredges drop, his own nails dig in that much more in a quiet bid of enough, sensitive. He'll live, he just—

Breathe.

That's all it takes. One simple word. A soothing "order", a barely-there burn in his eyes, and Gladio breathes. He feels raw for reasons he doesn't fully understand, yet does. He feels raw because of the new combination of being touched and the new nerves in his ears pulling him two different ways, and maybe a little vulnerable because it's all so new. Yet here Law is, bringing him back down to solid ground and if Gladio didn't know any better he might think that he's got more experience than he lets on.

Breathe. In. Out.

Gradually his hold relaxes but Gladio keeps his face tucked. The rest of him follows, the tension bleeding out of his body until he really does melt and he has to pull Law further up his body so he doesn't lose his temporary home as he sinks into the pillow, his six foot six stature be damned. ]</sub>

...Gimme a minute. A-And don't...

_{[ One ear flattens, the other still tilted forward from Law's fingers behind it. Tucked into his neck, Gladio can feel his face burning. ]}

Don't stop. <sub>Please.

[ Let him have that for a little longer. ]</sub>

[counterattack]

[ When it's over, Law lets go and lays his hand on Gladio's lower belly instead. Honestly, even though his own moment's come and gone, he takes the time to breathe right along with him. It's... it feels really, really good. Meditative and calming, the way doing those sorts of exercises with another person always feels, but there's something so deeply intimate about it in this setting, it really gets to him. That scant space between him, the brush of skin and their bodies rise and fall with each inhale and exhale, the warmth of Gladio's breath on his neck—wow. Law catches himself squirming in spite of how totally relaxed he is, fingers splayed over Gladio's stomach and pressing down ever so faintly, steadying and also just enjoying the feeling of his muscles contracting. ]

Nn... I won't. Keep breathing, though.

[ Lingering comfortably in place, Law keeps working his fingers against Gladio's ear. Strokes up along the edge of it and ghosts his fingertip against the little tuft at the tip to see if it'll flick reflexively, then moves to the other side, kneading at the base of that ear in a small circle. If there's one thing he is totally and completely confident of in this whole thing, honestly, it's that he knows his way around a pair of animal-y ears. He's a professional monster petter.

For a few moments, he stays like that, breathing deep and giving Gladio the best ear scratchies he's ever gonna get. It's hard to be totally relaxed when he's still kind of keyed up, though, but the alcohol swishing around in his head and the relative comfort of this position will probably take him out if he lingers too long. His mind wanders, replaying everything that's just happened in vivid detail. That ah, fuck is gonna live in his head rent-free so much he's pretty sure he'll be hearing it in his dreams.

Smirking, Law waits until, naturally, the quietest moment to tilt his head up and ask: ]

Good boy. Is that what did it?

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Keep breathing. In. Out. In... and out. Getting into a good pattern isn't ordinarily so damned hard but when he's got strong fingers working his ears over, digging right into the base and into spots most people don't know exist even through the occasional flick brought on by the same digits brushing against the all-too-sensitive strands of fur at the tips, edges of the base and inside. It should feel like hell on earth what with how often he finds himself being woken up from a pleasant nap by a certain snickering brat-king, but unlike those times Gladio doesn't grumble. Not in the traditional sense anyway. As stuttered as it is, his body still tries to produce that same purring sound from before. It's not perfect, but it's something.

Up until it's cut short by Gladio sniffing and lightly thumping a leather-clad knee against Law's side, along with his hand sliding up the back of his neck as if he means to seize a handful of hair and yank, only... he doesn't do that. His hand pushes up into his hair, yeah, but there's no tug or yank to be felt. When he finds his voice, it's raw and oddly quiet.

He's... flustered. Honest-to-Six flustered. Thank the same Six that he does not have a tail yet and only ears to give him away with a subtle perk-up. ]</sub>

You tell anyone and I'll... I dunno.

_{[ Sit on him? Probably. Gladio's got a hard time sorting any threats out while his brain is an absolute pile of mush, but he can still "threaten" a bite by mouthing at the cord of muscle between Law's neck and shoulder. He can leave a little hickey. As a treat. You know, just until he comes down from that explosive high and regains his fine motor skills that've flown out the window. For the time he just sort of does that, alternating between mock bites and tucking his face in where he'd bitten while he continues to find his voice. ]}

...Never had anyone call me that before. Not like that.

[counterattack]

[ Law's shoulders raise when Gladio goes for the hair, but then—ohhh, that feels really nice, actually. He expected that yank, he really did, so this is a pleasant alternative. He melts into it, half laughing and half sighing contentedly. ]

Like "that"? I didn't even mean for it to be sexy!

[ Does he... get why it would be, though? Yeah, kinda. Sort of. Most of the time he's ever heard things like that used were in either familial contexts or condescending ones, or—yeah, something you say to a pet. So he just assumes it's one of those three, most likely the last one, and... well... who's the pet dog now, huh??

Or, uh. Pet... whatever Gladio is. He's still never seen a behemoth in the flesh, but to be fair these human-zeugle hybrid forms are all kinds of imaginative. Uh. Sometimes. He is the one with a bushy wolf tail, which is pretty much a dead ringer, but. Still. He's not the one rolling over for scratchies and getting off to being called a good boy.

Yet. ]

So... I should get you to do tricks? Feed you treats? I've got so many questions right now.

[ How about... belly rubs? Well, you can't exactly ruffle up a human the way you can a pet, but he still sweeps his hand over Gladio's stomach, fingers curled to try scritching with his blunt nails. Nah, if anyone's going to be doing the kicky-leg thing for that it'll wind up being him, eventually. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Tricks? For that, Gladio presses his teeth into his shoulder a little bit more. He'd never go hard enough to break the skin or cause harm — he'd never forgive himself if he did — but he does apply enough pressure to leave faint indents. Just how much of that mouthy side is the behemoth-side of him and how much of it is actually Gladio? Even he's not sure. Once he's satisfied the urge he brushes his nose against the marks, snorting once he feels Law start to... Six, he's trying to scratch him like a dog, isn't he?

The scary thing is he's pretty sure it'd work if he were the beast. Not the werewolf-esque one, but the one that prowled around on all fours in Kiichpan that one time. Twice, if he counts Trance. As he is now it merely tickles and soothes an itch he didn't know he had which... sort of winds up pulling a quiet, pleased exhale through his nose.

Up until Gladio decides to reach behind Law's back, slip his hand down, and grab hold of that long tail dangling over his backside. Just for that? He's getting a very, very short yank. ]</sub>

Only if you're the treat. You know I'm picky.

_{[ His garbage disposal of a stomach says otherwise, but go off. ]}

[counterattack]

[ The "bites" feel pretty good, honestly, but that tail pull? It's not much of one, but it's still enough that Law yaps right in Gladio's face. That's just not a noise human people make, not a yell or a squeak or a shout, but a straight up bark. Which would be embarrassing on its own any day of the week, but right now, in particular? That has him going red and pulling his lips back in a grimace. ]

Doooon't!

[ Also super attractive and sexy, whining like that at a time like this. At least, when he retaliates by bending his arm back to try and grab Gladio's wrist to wrench him away from his tail, he sure shows off some of that ridiculous flexibility—nobody's arm should bend that way, and nobody's back should be able to arch like that. While he's at it, he stretches up and gets him back by "biting" the soft edge of one of those ears, only without teeth, just pursed lips pinched tight around the velvety skin. C'mon, who hasn't done this to an animal at least once?? ...Never mind that Gladio is distinctly not an animal, and the context here is very different, but still. ]

You can't eat me, anyways. I don't even taste good! Just ask the wyvern that spat me out.

[ Technically you can't because Zephyr mauled it to absolute fucking death, but. Still. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Whatever and any perceived "indignation" Gladio felt about the good boy and the subsequent teasing quickly fades the instant Law makes that noise. That was... Holy shit, he did, didn't he? He totally just barked and just like that it makes up for everything. The teasing, his own purring, all of it.

It's got him thrown so off guard that he doesn't even """"struggle"""" as Law yanks his wrist up and just out of reach of the furry appendage, but that doesn't mean he's about to let him straight up deprive him of touching. Sure, he can have his tail back but in exchange Gladio lets his hand drop right to the back of his thigh and squeezes at that instead, all while he tries his best to stifle his own bark of laughter. Only... he doesn't bark. His laugh comes out strangled and against his will he jerks underneath Law, every nerve in his body sending a signal that he's not sure how to decipher. Does he yank his head away? Lean into it? Fight? Nah. He needs a good minute to process what just happened but while he does?

He turns his hand to pinch next. ]</sub. I think I'd eat the wyvern first just so I'd get you to myself, 'cause you taste pretty damn good to me.</sub>

[counterattack]

Not like that— mmh—

[ He did say that, didn't he. That he tasted good, while he was... oh, dear mother Dahna help him. A little unintentionally, Law winds up speaking right up against Gladio's ear, and subsequently huffing out a breath against it, too. Now that his tail is safe from assault, he plants his hand back on the bed for balance, the other leveraging against Gladio's shoulder as his own hips shift, anxious. ]

Bad Gladio. Sit. Stay. Roll over. Play dead.

[ That's too many tricks all at once!! Look, he's just trying to find an escape from the humiliation of barking and inadvertently opening a weird, sexy door he didn't know he was opening. He'd been so put together earlier, but after all they've gotten up to and the amount of time the alcohol's had to really hit his bloodstream by now, he must be finally getting a little sloppy. ]

[indeferent]

You sit.

_{[ Even though he technically already is, oops. His ear flicks against Law's nose and with it he smooths his palm back over his thigh. See, this is why Law is so damned amazing in his eyes — there's nothing super serious about any of this, it's just a couple of friends screwing (literally) around and having a good time. The extra weight pressing down on his shoulder makes him arch up to test his limit, then Gladio lets himself sink back down into the bed with a pleased hum. ]}

'n I'm already rolled over. And staying.

_{[ But play dead? Is that legal, chief? He doesn't know, but he's not going to think about that for now. Shifting once more underneath him to meet Law's own wiggle, Gladio makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat. ]}

Lift your ass for a sec so I can get outta these things, 'cause I might actually die if I gotta stay in 'em for another minute. S'too damn hot.

_{[ Even if they make his ass and thighs look killer, the leather has to go. ]}

[counterattack]

Ha...hang on.

[ Not literally hang on, this time; he's not rolling them over again, much as he happened to be a fan of Gladio's weight overtop of him, not to mention the view. The view's good from this angle, too. Maybe even better. And it feels good to have the seat of honor on the King's Shield's lap (not that he understands or cares all that much about any of that; frankly, he prefers people without their ludicrous titles and so-called prestige, and it's not just because of that 300-year-old bias that every Dahnan is born with upon their shoulders), so yeah, he's good right here. Get you a guy that's perfectly happy on either side. Ladies and gents, we've got a switch on our hands here.

But no, Law vacates that so-called seat of honor entirely rather than just lifting up. Just for a second, and he has a really good reason for it. Of course, clambering up so that he's sitting upright on his knees and then stumbling back off the bed and onto his feet is a clumsy as hell maneuver, both arms going out to either side as he wobbles, drunk as a fucking skunk, but manages to keep his balance. Once he's sure he's not about to fall on his ass, he turns that grimace into a grin and folds his arms, one hip cocked to the side. Sassy-like. ]

Okay, go ahead. Take 'em off.

[ Don't mind him. He's just not about to miss out on this show. It's his birthday, he doesn't need to pay for a ticket. Besides, he's practically part of the show himself, standing there without a stitch on and evidently not bothered about it at all. ]

[indeferent]

_{[ Law stands, and Gladio stares as he moves about this way and that, especially when he twists his body to show off lean muscle and that perfect pert ass and tail. Don't do it, ho. Don't do it don't do it don't do it— ]}

If I knew you wanted a strip tease I would've put more clothes on.

<sub>[ Is he serious? Maybe, maybe not. They both know Gladio's supply of shirts is almost non-existent with the heat and humidity of this world but that doesn't mean he can't take a page out of a certain Eagle's book and accessorize to hell and back. There's a moment where Gladio peers up at him from his back with bent knees and splayed legs, his head tilted back and hair disheveled and looking downright ravaged with his pants undone and jacket half off. Without Law's weight in his lap he nearly feels empty, but all he has to do is reach out and yank him back if he really wanted to.

For now, he keeps his hands to himself. On himself as he hooks his fingers under his belt and waistband, wiggling his pants down his thighs with a muttered curse or two. If Gladio had known, he'd have worn something looser. By the time he gets them down to his knees he has to sit up, and then a quiet shit as he realizes the worst thing:

His fucking boots.

What wins? Clumsy fingers or double-knotted laces? Eventually the victor makes itself known and Gladio simply loosens them enough to yank them off, tossing them off somewhere towards the wall closest to the bed. He doesn't have time to make it Glamourous purely because they were in the way of getting everything else off. With that last obstacle he's able to shed his pants the rest of the way — almost comically given he has to shake his leg to get the last one off, and then those drop to the floor too with a thump, medallion and all. He'll... get that in a second. Once he's free, the jacket follows and Gladio swings his legs over the side to reach for Law with one arm. ]</sub>

Come here.

_{[ Oddly enough he never actually thought about what Lucian must sound like to foreign ears. ]}