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>[ 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. ]}

[counterattack]

[ Well. You know, honestly, this is a really grounding experience. Leave it to Law to automatically assume that everyone is ten times better than him at everything imaginable, and maybe if they weren't shit-faced this would go a little differently, but right now? Watching Gladio fumble his way through getting his shoes and pants off? Law feels a little less completely out of his element. He'd argue that you can't blame him for thinking so ordinarily—Just look at him. Gladio's tall, rugged and handsome. Amazing head to toe, and his personality's nothing to glaze over, either. Law's spent a year thinking that Gladio's way out of his league. Too cool, too worldly, too good for someone like him. And yeah, it's funny, watching him gracelessly kick his pants off, but it's also just the first time he's felt like he's not just some complete boneheaded kid that scored way outside his wheelhouse. He's really... comfortable. Like this. With Gladio.

He laughs, but most of all, he looks. Don't let that goofiness distract from the absolute sight that Gladio is, the picture of him once he's fully undressed, reaching for him. Law's smiling one of those smiles that wrinkles his nose, but he captures his (poor, tortured and abused) lower lip between his teeth while he does it, tail swishing appreciatively back and forth. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, he's not seeing all thaaaat much more than what was already on display, but... well. There's just something about showing it all off that really speaks to him.

And speaking of speaking to him— Law's head tilts in confusion at the... sound that comes out of Gladio's mouth. Fortunately, he recognizes the reaching gesture for what it is all too well, but he definitely does the confused-dog-head-cock thing at what he hears. It almost doesn't even occur to him that those were words at all, just a funny noise he made, maybe. He'd been smart enough to keep his own medallion on (lmao @ me), but it doesn't register here. Not yet.

Ah well. Still grinning, he uncrosses his arms and makes his way over, wobbling again as he goes to straddle Gladio's lap and take his place back in it. ]

Definitely don't need you to wear more clothes, uh-uh. You're so... you look really... I dunno. I'unno know the right word.

[ Yyyeah... how's that Calaglian Dahnan treating you, Gladio? His language is rough. Like, gravel-rough, although the hard edges of Law's consonants are sanded off thanks to his years in Cysloden, where their speech is more refined, softer. The low timbre of his voice makes it sound like a series of really smooth, slightly slurred growls, which probably makes the kinda-shy-but-holding-his-own kiss Law goes in for even that much more confusing. ]

Perfect? Let's go with that.

[indeferent]

_{[ Both of his ears perk up and just as Law did the little head tilt, Gladio does too. He likes to consider himself well-versed in the languages of Eos — never enough to actually speak them, but enough to recognize them. The words are nowhere near as lyrical as some Altissian, and forget Tenebraen. Maybe a touch of Niff...? No, it's still too rough. And it's far, far too gentle to be that of the Astrals (and if he could understand that, then Gladio might be afraid for once in his life.) It doesn't take him long to decide that whatever it is? He likes it, and the instant Law climbs back over his lap, Gladio pulls him in close and presses a kiss to the hollow of his throat. ]}

I got no idea what you just said but whatever it was, say it again.

<sub>[ A quiet laugh and his hands drop down to take Law's tail between his hands, but he doesn't pull on it this time. He lifts it, carding his fingers through the coarse layer of fur on top and then digs them in deeper to reach the softer undercoat. Eventually he pulls one hand away to smooth over his spine, but he keeps brushing through it with the remaining one.

I've got you. ]</sub>

Law.

_{[ At least that comes through with no issue, thank the Six. ]}

How'd I get so damn lucky?

_{[ He really, really ought to untangle that damn medallion from his belt, but effort. Let him soak this up for a minute first. ]}

[counterattack]

Ah—huh?

[ What... is happening. Funnily enough, in all his time here, Law's never not had his medallion on, at least not whenever he'd need to talk to someone outside of his own world. He's also never had anyone else talk to him without theirs, either, and he'd never thought to experiment with it before, so this... kinda blows his mind. Gladio's mouth moves and nothing at all coherent comes out of it, and there his head goes again, tilting in confusion. Is he just... so drunk that he can't understand words anymore? Or is Gladio so drunk he can't speak straight anymore? Law laughs in confusion, his chin tipping back to let Gladio kiss his throat, but it isn't until the sound of his name that it finally clicks. ]

Ohhhh... wow, is that what your language sounds like? I can barely understand you! It's like the words I know, but... not exactly. Hehe, you have a funny accent. Wait—crap! You can't understand me at all, can you?

[ They basically have nothing but their facial expressions to go off of here. The more Law hears Gladio speak, the more he realizes it's technically translated, the medallion just isn't doing shit for the peculiarities of how Gladio's language sounds to his own ear. He... gets the gist, but honestly, he doesn't need to. These gestures, the look on Gladio's face—it says enough. His whole body shivers, the fur of his tail standing on end, and Law presses his forehead to Gladio's, tilting his head toward one ear. Say it again. ]

I said you look perfect. Per-fe-ct.

[ Over-enunciating, he goes hard on that last sound at the end. Like tires over a dirt road, that language of his. His arms drape around Gladio's neck, even if he probably shouldn't get comfortable so that he can grab his medallion. As a matter of fact, after a moment, he lifts his own up and over his head and lets it drop to the side of the bed next to them, where he can grab it again later, when they're done messing around with what's basically becoming Sexy Charades. His smirk says it all, really. ]

Guess we'll just have to talk with our bodies. Fortunately, I'm pretty good at that.

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Something about the roll of his R's makes Gladio's spine tingle and he can't figure out why. All he knows is it sounds very pleasant to his ears and before he can stop himself, Gladio finds himself laughing and grinning into the side of Law's throat, lips brushing across a spot where the chain of the medallion might've sat. And then further down where the bulk of it did, the next kiss a bit more... tender. Softer. Reverent.

He can't understand a lick of what he says but that only adds more thrill to the ever-growing list of Things Gladio Loves About This. Not to mention the amount of trust that sits between them — without a common language what else do they have besides body language? Not much, he realizes. ]</sub>

Remind me to have you teach me whatever it is you're speakin'.

<sub>[ Even if he only winds up with a child's vocabulary it'd still be something to share, and that in and of itself is actually? Pretty exciting to think about. It'd be like having their own language within Copalli, even if it's one that Law's own people could understand. He laughs again, taking a moment or three to figure out what he wants to say without actually saying it. Eventually he settles for something easy;

A slow crawl up the length of his tail and all the way up to the base of it, his thumb pressing against it. Then, he slides it down to cradle his ass in his palm and lets his fingers spread out, brows raised in a foreign question: ]</sub>

You still sure?

[counterattack]

[ Oh, man. Now he really can't understand him. He'd been fortunate enough to be blessed with an ear for languages, or maybe it's more of an ear for sounds, since he ended up with a talent for picking up on things like accents, dialects and, most importantly during his time in Cysloden, ciphers. In those cases, though, everything was already more or less familiar to his ear. The Dahnan language these days is just a bastardization of the Renan language, squeezed of its rich nuances after centuries of oppression, just like the rest of their culture. Everywhere you go, everyone sounds the same, but it changes a little bit depending on where you're from. Calaglians sound hard and gravelly, Cyslodians are soft and verbose. Menancians like to use a lot of adjectives, and in Mahag Saar, they were short-spoken and more Renan-sounding than all the rest. And in Ganath Haros, well... they... were just lucky to be able to speak at all, as it turned out. Even in Lenegis, it was pretty much the same. But whatever language Gladio is using has sounds like he's never heard before, fascinating to his ears, and... frankly, kinda weirdly hot when it all comes out in that low, rough voice of his. Law may not understand the words, but he definitely gets the meaning: I dunno what you just said, but I like it.

His grin goes funny around the edges as Gladio's hands work down his tail, and in spite of his effort to play it cool, he finds himself sitting forward on his knees, grasping onto Gladio's shoulders and leaning into him, breath hitching when he inhales. It's another case of seems nervous, but those aren't nerves, it's anticipation. It doesn't take much guesswork to assume what Gladio's asking here, either. Whatever it is, Law knows without a doubt what his answer is, and he starts with a fervent nod just to make that clear. ]

Yeah.

[ Kinda sounds like ja, but with a ch-sounding audible j. Yeses and nos should be simple enough, right? ]

I'm ready if you are.

[ They should probably have their medallions on, but y'know? He actually kind of likes this. Life was always simpler when he didn't have to rely so heavily on his words all the time. This is either the best idea ever, or a really stupid drunk one. Either way, at least his medallion isn't far, if he feels like he needs it. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ He's absolutely fascinated with how Law sounds. Now he knows for a fact that he'd butcher the language in an actual conversation but it doesn't stop him from repeating that 'Yeah' for himself. It's too crisp and pronounced compared to how ordinary it is for a Dahnan, but surely he gets points for making an effort of it. He lets it roll across his tongue several more times until it sounds closer, until Gladio may as well be beaming. Totally nailed it. Even knowing that he's godsawful at it, it makes him want to learn what he can that much more. But that can come later he thinks, because the way Law hauls himself up using his shoulders as leverage spurs Gladio into doing two things.

The first being to mouth at his throat again, maybe even higher so his facial hair can lightly scratch against his neck. At least it's softer near his jaw where it blends in with the fur on his ears. The second is he blindly reaches over and behind himself for the jar, fumbling with it until he's able to pick it up and balances it on his thigh.

But before he does anything else, he releases his hold on Law just long enough to make a vague time out motion with his hands and slowly enunciates a word. ]</sub>

Stop.

_{[ More of a yah-me, smoother with his own dialect as opposed to other parts of Insomnia. Repeating it again, he places his hand over Law's heart. The time out, another stop, and he returns his hands to their original place. He kneads at his ass for a moment, murmuring another word against his throat; ]}

Slow.

_{[ That one comes out in an odd amalgamation of a hiss and a hard, rolling R. Gladio keeps the kneading just how he says - slow - until he feels like it gets through. He thinks about the medallions for a moment, but he knows if they really need it they're barely two feet away. So, he presses a short kiss to the curve of Law's jaw, finally picks the jar back up, coats his fingers, and slips one down the crack of his ass. Not probing, just... Touching. ]}

I'll go slow. I promise. Last thing I wanna do is hurt you, 'specially since...

_{[ Since he's going to be his first. ]}

[counterattack]

[ Law's nose wrinkles with amusement as Gladio parrots his yeah back at him, and if it kind of gives him weird, pleasant tingles to repeat it back and forth a couple times without very much space between them, well... that's normal, right? Hey Siri, is it weird to find this hot? Because if so, too bad. It's hot that Gladio tries to speak his language, it's hot thanks to how it sounds coming out of his mouth, it's even hot that he gets all excited when he gets it right. Alright, so anyone looking at this from the outside would probably think two guys murmuring yeah at each other in rough Dahnan would be weird as hell, especially considering the compromising position, but they can all shut up about it. When Law tips his head back to let Gladio at his throat, he's smiling, too—and laughing, and that throat is decidedly flushed, and he's forgotten to care about anything. This is too hot to be weird. He's absolutely vibing.

So at first, when Gladio's imparting these safewords on him, Law thinks he's just messing around. Sounds good to me, whatever that is. His nose crinkles again, still completely taken by the strangeness of his accent. By the second time, though, he gets it. It only takes him hearing both of them twice to be able to repeat them back: stop and slow, his inflection pretty spot-on for having never heard Lucian spoken before in his life. He nods to show he gets it, although it's slow and a little unfocused. Hard to stay completely on track with Gladio's hands going where they're going and doing what they're doing. The eager-anxiousness is building up so much it's hard to keep his hips still.

He catches slow in whatever it is Gladio says next and nods again, head tilting to glimpse the expression on his face. He's saying he's gonna go easy on me. Reckless and willing as he is, that's probably for the best. All things considered, he's not exactly sure just what he's in for here, uh, sensation-wise. He'd figured out the mechanics on his own through a combination of "weird shit he just thinks about sometimes" and "weird shit he overheard other people talking about well before he was probably supposed to be hearing that kind of thing," but he's never had, y'know, the talk. Whatever shreds of alcohol-soaked logic he has left, though, make it pretty clear it's gonna be... a lot. ]

Don't worry so much, I'll be fine. And... you'll be good. You'll be really good, so I'm not worried either.

[ He's only saying that because he knows Gladio won't understand him, honestly. As bold as he's been with his words, that feels like a lot to just say, but... well, it's probably pretty obvious just based on his expression, lashes lowered and cheeks going pink, that he's saying something flirtatious. And not taking this super seriously, which can be either a good or bad thing, depending on how you look at it. ]

[indeferent]

_{[ All he manages to make out is the gentle, chiding tone Law uses means that he's prooooobably fussing at him to stop being so damned cautious and the realization makes him laugh and counter with a questioning "ja?" this time. There's a lot he could pick apart just from body language alone, but he keeps it to the verbal shit for now. The accent he picks up in Law's voice only makes his grin grow wider, and Gladio thinks he can pick out another word that reaches his ears. He said it twice so it has to mean something good which obviously means he has to repeat it back in a heavily accented, mostly butchered form of Dahnan. ]}

You'll be... good.

<sub>[ He's not even going to attempt the missing word. Not when he could press a short kiss to the edge of Law's ear and murmur everything else into it instead. Later he'll have to try repeating it until he gets it right but for now this'll do, especially when Gladio has his attention veering off to the not-so-subtle shift and rock of Law's hips. There's only so much teasing someone can take — he knows this first hand — and it'd be a cold day on Ravatogh if Gladio were the sort of guy to keep someone waiting outside of throwing himself into the face of death and a certain Blademaster, so once he feels that he's ready?

A nudge to the jaw to get his attention, an exaggerated breath, a quiet order of "breathe", more of that slickness, and finally a gentle press. Breathe. ]</sub>

Don't rush it, alright? Just breathe. I got you. You're in control here and you'll have it the entire time. Here—

_{[ With Law's hands still on him Gladio doesn't really need his own to keep him upright, so he reaches up to coax Law's face towards the crook of his neck. Into his neck even, right near his own pulse. It's the best he can do to convey his promise. I've got you. You're doing fine. Breathe. ]}

[counterattack]

[ If saying it out loud was a lot, then hearing Gladio say it back to him in his own language is a a lot-a lot. Law's eyes widen a little, taken aback and then delighted, and... yeah, it's pretty clearly something meant to make someone blush, because that's exactly what Law does. Of course Gladio doesn't have a clue what he's actually saying, but that doesn't matter. Just hearing it, the suggestion of it, gives him butterflies in his stomach. Is he going to be good? God, he sure hopes so. Reckless confidence has gotten him this far, at least.

Far be it for him to hide his face, but honestly? He might need it. Law makes a soft sound in the back of his throat at that slick press of fingers against him, tense at first if only because he isn't sure what to do with his body. Hold still? That's a tall order when he's so instantly overwhelmed with a want-verging-on-need that he doesn't quite understand in its entirety, but he does his best not to writhe. As he buries his face in the crook of Gladio's neck, he exhales hard against his skin and grazes the cord of muscle there with his teeth. The gesture speaks volumes where the words are indistinct, rough-hewn but strangely melodic, the way Dahnan probably sounded centuries ago before it got watered down to whatever the hell the Renans have done to it. One word keeps jumping out again over and over, though, and Law whispers it back: ]

Breathe.

[ Any guesses as to the meaning? Kind of. He'd probably be surprised to find out it's one of his favorite words to use, but as fate would have it, he's already doing precisely that: taking a deep breath in and sighing it back out, hot and shaky into space at Gladio's throat. His fingers curl into the backs of his shoulders and drag down. ]

Keep talking. Just say anything, I like how it sounds. Say breathe again.

[indeferent]

_{[ He's not sure if he'll ever get tired of hearing Law repeat his own language back at him. It's so damned thrilling to understand a word or two while it's mixed up with Law's own native tongue that he nearly laughs in disbelief, but he swallows it down the instant he hears that little hitch of breath and the noise coming from low in his throat. Gladio can't soothe him the way he wants, not without sprouting an extra pair of arms, but he can at least tilt his head a bit to rest his jaw against the side of Law's head and hum softly. That's it. He's got him. Even the threat of teeth doesn't deter him in the slightest. If anything it only encourages him. ]}

That's it. Breathe, just like that.

_{[ The blunt of Law's nails dig into his back and he takes that as a sign to ease up. He isn't about to rush this like his own first time, gods no. Law means more to him than he knows how to put into words and he fully means to put his gil where his mouth is. Treat him the way you wanted to be. ]}

Breathe in and count with me. One, two, three... One, two...

_{[ Slow. Careful. Gentle. His fingers don't press any deeper until he feels Law relax, and only after he really relaxes. ]}

See? Good. You're good. You're doin' great, Law.

[counterattack]

[ Law exhales hard into the crook of Gladio's neck, tense when he breathes in and limber when he breathes out. It takes a few moments for him to get the hang of staying loose, not fighting the sensation of Gladio's fingers pressing inside but opening himself up to it. He doesn't recognize the numbers as Gladio counts them, but he recognizes the cadence and realizes he's counting. Rather than up from one, he counts back from five. It sure hits different now compared to when he's trying to calm himself down. That's probably gonna be in his head every time he uses that trick now.

His shoulders jump at the sound of words he knows, good, Law. Is he? Is he good? He's not sure if he's good in the way he meant it when he said it earlier, but good in the sense that he can handle it? Law nods, his lips damp against Gladio's shoulder where he'd been mouthing at it. ]

Yeah, I'm good.

[ His hips shift, eager without that restless energy, and that makes his whole body tense up again—just for a second. Another breath in and out and he's relaxed, warbling in the back of his throat. Thankfully, you don't need language to make appreciative noises, for the sound of the soft kisses and love-bites he leaves on Gladio's neck, or the way his breaths come shuddering out as he really starts to get into this. ]

Gladio...

[ You don't need language to say someone's name, either, although it does come out deliciously rough in his heavy accent. It even sounds different to his own ear, even though he's said it at least a dozen times before. Without the medallion to make sense of it for him, that name is as unusual and attractive as the rest of his language. He whispers it again just for how it feels to say it. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ There's that ja sound again followed by good, a lopsided grin spreading over his face at the realization that it's something. They've got this shit on lockdown, don't they? It's enough to earn Law a short kiss to that spot just behind his ear, Gladio's voice coming out in a quiet, rumbling laugh followed by a soft good. He trusts Law to know his own limits and when he feels him shift in his lap, Gladio indulges him further. Bit by bit, until he's knuckle-deep and Law practically purrs his name into his ear.

Now that sends an almost violent shiver up Gladio's spine and he knows without a doubt that the fur on his ears stands on end. Who'd have guessed that hearing ones own name like that would be so damn effective? He quickly decides that he very much likes the sound of it, another kiss following the first to the exact same spot. It's easier to keep his voice low and intimate this close, and Gladio lets his eyes fall shut. ]</sub>

D'you have any idea how perfect you sound right now? If I didn't know any better I'd think you were savin' those noises just for me.

_{[ In a sense he was, wasn't he? Instead of putting too much thought into it, Gladio lets his free hand drift back to his tail and carefully pulls it over and around to curl around Law's waist and over a thigh so he can run his fingers through it that much easier. Once he feels like he's relaxed more, he crooks his finger. Searching. ]}

C'mon, Law.. Y'don't gotta hold back anymore so let it out... I wanna close my eyes later and hear you in my sleep. I'm gonna have to live knowing that no one else can say my name like you do, and you got no idea how much it drives me up the wall already...

_{[ So he's not the most eloquent drunk, but nobody ever said he had to be. What matters most is drawing out every little sound and reaction he can out of Law, and he'll keep murmuring his name into his hair and twisting his wrist this way and that until he does. This moment is all about him and no one else. ]}

Law.

[counterattack]

[ For a moment it's just the same, Law easing into it, murmuring soft, gratified sounds and occasionally shifting his hips, but—oh, god, when Gladio's got it, he's got it. He sucks in a breath, not quite a whole entire gasp, and his hips rock urgently, his arms tightening around Gladio's back to pull himself closer. The moan he lets out is muffled into Gladio's neck, the hairs on his tail standing on end. If that blowjob felt good, this is... something else. Good on some other level he'd also been wholly unequipped for. There's something off about it, and he's probably going to realize someday in the far-flung future that being penetrated isn't quite going to make the top five of his favorite things to do in bed (not compared to the alternative, at least), but there's absolutely no arguing with it right now. Those borderline plaintive sounds he makes certainly aren't argumentative, that much is for damn sure.

His head tilts to the side a little to catch a look at Gladio's face, trying to guess at what he's saying. It's hard to tell, but it all sounds really good, whatever it is. Low and rough, encouraging, he thinks. Satisfied. Gladio kind of sounds like how Law thinks he feels, like he's really getting something out of this and can't get enough of it. That alone is enough to make that feeling in the pit of his stomach more intense, shifting to chase the feeling every time Gladio's fingers arc up and into him. ]

Ff...fuck, that's—

[ No words, just noise. Speaking of eloquent drunks, that's twice now that he's ever dropped an f-bomb in his life, but honestly, it's astute. And it's one of those words that kind of doesn't need a translation to get the point across, either. Law presses his forehead to Gladio's shoulder, but eventually he can't keep his face hidden anymore. His back bends, head turning to catch Gladio's lips with his own between ragged, panting breaths. He has saved all this for Gladio, in a way. He's the lucky first, whether it was planned that way or not. ]

I'm— Gladio— I'm gonna lose my mind if you keep that up. How can you even look like that when you're not even... how are you so... mmgh... good at this?

[ He can't even finish a damn sentence, but good seems the universal word they can both get their drunk heads around, so it's what he goes with. ]

[indeferent]

_{[ If these are the sort of reactions he's pulling out of him now, Gladio almost can't wait to find out what he'll get later. He sounds absolutely debauched moaning into his neck like he is, the fingers in Law's tail stilling for a moment before they return to petting his fur and working through some of the small tangles he comes across. That's it, it seems to say, I still got you. And he means it, even now — Gladio has Law, and Law still has control over the entire situation. He rocks back? Gladio rocks up. He knows a curse when he hears one regardless of language and knowing that he made him say it gets the Shield to snort a short laugh. ]}

Y'know, since I get to say this without you givin' me hell for it... You're real fuckin' cute. I like it.

<sub>[ More than like he wants to say, only Gladio doesn't get the chance. Law shuts him up quick and those first few seconds gets him groaning into it, open mouthed and wanting. How many times can Gladio say someone caught him off guard like that? Less than both hands, definitely, and this was one of the better, more pleasant ways. There's another pleased rumble just like one of the ones that had slipped out of him earlier, not quite a growl or a purr but something... close.

Something almost bestial and possessive and still wholly Gladio. He doesn't feel the need or urge to stifle it anymore, not around Law. Hell, he doubts he'll ever be able to rein it back in after this so he may as well roll with it, and that's... It should be terrifying. It should scare the hell out of Gladio, but it doesn't. Law still wants him, the thought pulling another odd sound from deep within his chest. Almost pained, but a good sort rather than unpleasant. Angling his head just so, Gladio's teeth catch Law's lip and another good comes out with a second strange rumble. He lets go, ducking down for a moment to rake his teeth over the curve of Law's jaw, and back to mouth at the pulse point of his throat. He never did leave a hickey here, did he...? ]</sub>

Gods... You're doing so good, Law. So good.

_{[ But they can't go with just one — they both know that, which is why he uses the sharp nip to his throat as a distraction as he starts to work in a second. Much like the first, he takes it slow. Maybe even slower, all things considered, until he runs out of finger. ]}

You're handlin' this like a champ, you know that?