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

[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?

[counterattack]

[ Totally unsuspecting, Law can only hear the tone of Gladio's voice and not that absolutely heinous compliment, so when he meets his eye? His lips quirk a little, deciding that whatever that means, it sounds good to him. With their mouths close together, he murmurs back: ]

I like it.

[ Ohhh, if only he knew. But hey, it's fair. He does like it.

He likes everything Gladio says because it sounds good, he likes his hand petting through his tail, and he even likes the pleasure-ache of his second finger sinking into him. Law's lips pull back as if to hiss, but doesn't actually make the sound, tense—and then gasping, letting the breath out, relaxing with a strangled groan. That feels like a lot, and it's nowhere near the level of heat Gladio's packing. When he feels able to, he rocks his hips again, head tilting all the way back to let Gladio at his throat. And when he swallows, it's audible, but it sure ain't nervous. ]

I kinda... thought it might hurt, but it doesn't. I can, nnh, take more than that.

[ Pushing his luck, maybe, but he tries to—nod, gesture, something to indicate that he's good for it, that he thinks he's up for something more. In the end, he lets his body do the talking, shifting this way and that to chase that same feeling from before and moaning hoarsely when he finds it. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Mmmmhm, yep. Gladio's doomed with a capital D, isn't he? He knows he is, but instead of thinking too hard about it now, he instead laughs and affectionately knocks their foreheads together as Law moves his head back and away. That's the sound he likes to hear and he's... Gods, he's really, really content. He'd be happy to keep doing this if he didn't make promises already, and that of course requires a third digit to join the others. No more, no less. As he ducks his head down to lick a wet stripe up the column of Law's throat, he knows it'll be enough, and once he reaches a spot just below an ear, Gladio nips at the patch of skin with his canines.

He'll have to be much, much more gentle if they ever do this under the effects of the incense but for now? They'll have their fun. ]</sub>

You're gonna be the death of me, you know that? Maybe not out in the world, but I think...

<sub>[ Gladio's words falter for a moment. His hand moves to settle under Law's ass and lifts him a bit, enough to give himself a little more room to really work on loosening him up. It inadvertently gives him another angle to mouth at his neck in the process but rather than taking advantage of it, he huffs against Law's ear instead and lets out a muffled, all-too-pleased rumble. Sometimes he laments being as big as he is — being six-foot-six means not many people can manhandle him like he can Law, and it's one thing he wishes would happen more often. But... at the same time? Gladio relishes in it. It means he can give people what they want. Plenty have asked to be manhandled all the same and he's happy to oblige, and this was no different.

Well.

Mostly. It's different because Gladio has Law in his hands versus some stranger. He knows all too well that when the tables flip, Law won't have any issue throwing him around. He'd already proved that earlier with how effortlessly he'd gone and flipped the both of them, and the thought makes him grin against his neck. ]</sub>

What'm I gonna do if you go and find someone better than me, huh? How am I supposed to go on after this? You're so six-damned perfect for me... All these sounds? The way you're movin'? No one else'll be able to top that. 'specially the way you look at me. I can't believe I never figured it out 'til today, you know? All those times I caught you staring? I had no idea.

_{[ Maybe he runs his mouth like this because he knows Law can barely understand him. Maybe he's more than a little regular-drunk. Maybe he's touch-and-love drunk. Just a little. Or maybe he's just an even bigger stupid, sucky sap when he feels like he can truly be himself. Whatever the reason? It's all because of Law and he fully means to show his appreciation for it. Getting to just be himself is a rare treat, and this time it's for Law and Law only. ]}

[counterattack]

[ There it is. Not the limit of what Law's capable of handling, by any means, but enough to get a real reaction out of him. That is, his eyes widen as Gladio works his third finger in, fingers digging into his shoulders, back going rigid for all of the few seconds it takes him to account for that much more—when he finally relaxes, it's with a hard breath out, and he tilts his head back down to press his face against Gladio's jaw, briefly held still. The noise that comes out of him... it's a mess. A little bit of a groan, a little bit of a whine, a little bit of an agonized sigh. This is a really weird sort of torture, so good it's almost bad, but then right before it can trip over the line into uncomfortable, Gladio has some trick of the wrist or something else he does that reels it back into the realm of overwhelming pleasure, instead. Law had psyched himself up for Gladio to be talented and experienced, but what he hadn't accounted for is what that would mean. What it would feel like, in practice. As it turns out, he's pretty sure nothing in any world could've prepared him for all this, though. It's just something you have to experience for yourself, and boy is he a big fan of doing exactly that. ]

I'm... I'm okay. I'm good, don't stop.

[ Just in case there was any concern that it might've been too much: not a chance. Frankly, there's a good bet that it's a bit much so quickly, but it's going to be awhile before Law understands the difference between what his body can handle when it comes to things like working out versus what it can handle in bed. Those are two completely separate sets of criteria! But here he is thinking that it isn't over until it's unbearable, and since it's never anywhere near that, that means he can keep going. No limits.

He shifts on his knees, lifting himself up with Gladio's help, and when he sort of inadvertently sinks back again, effectively fucking himself on those probing fingers? There's a real gasp, so sharp he almost chokes on his own spit. His moan is muffled into the side of Gladio's neck, and he answers that way-too-good-sounding collection of words with another one, shivering across the shoulders. At this point, he can't even guess what it is he's saying, can barely tell the syllables apart from each other. It all just sounds like an absolutely delicious bunch of purring, and the tone... filthy. Whatever it is, it makes his whole body blush. ]

I—mmmghhh.

[ Speaking of how he looks at him, when Law gathers up enough strength to pull back enough to do just that, the expression on his face is absolutely wrecked, yeah, but it also doesn't scream "no clue what's going on." He looks at Gladio like he knows exactly what he just said, flushed and open-mouthed. His thighs tremble, but he's not brave enough to try that little maneuver he just did again yet. It might actually kill him. ]

I bet you're... saying everything I always wanted you to say, right now. Kinda glad I can't be sure, 'cause if I was, I don't think I'd be able to handle that and this. I don't... it's just... people like me don't ever get to be that lucky. 'S too good to be real.

[indeferent]

_{[ Stop reaches his ears and true to his earlier word Gladio does just that until the inflection in Law's voice seems to tell him that it's fine and to keep going. He doesn't need much encouragement after that, doubly so when Law shifts up and rocks back down and lets that too-sweet crooning moan out right into Gladio's ear. The warm puff of his breath tickles his fur and makes it flick twice, and the shaky roll of an R sends another tingle up Gladio's spine. Yeah, as much as he wants to understand him so badly right now, he also doesn't want to have to lean over to untangle his medallion nor does he want to pull his fingers free. Not while he's able to pull these sorts of sounds out of him with a simple tweak of his wrist or a curl of his fingers. ]}

You're really gonna have to teach me your language. Even if I gotta beg I wanna know how, 'cause you're killin' me here...

<sub>[ That nice little "good"? That's the good shit. Gladio steals a glance at Law's face and for a good long while his mouth goes dry. That look? That's not fair at all and the bestial side of him makes it known with a low, keening whine that he has no control over. It's not really as sad as it sounds, though. It's more... needy. Both ears slant backwards upon realizing just what sort of noise he'd gone and done made, almost sheepishly so — he's learning more about behemoths like this than he ever did from those old nature documentaries and the real things themselves, and... maybe he's also learning a few new things about himself in the process.

Strangely enough? He's not as intimidated by it as he might've been in the past, and that's all probably thanks to Law being Law. He may not be able to see it himself but Gladio sure can, and under that look that may as well be begging to be ravished properly he knows there's an amazingly strong, equally stubborn and stupidly kind man. And... for this moment in time, he's Gladio's. Language barrier and all. ]</sub>

How're you feeling? Good? More? Slow? Or...?

_{[ Good keeps the same steady pace. More means he tries to press and reach deeper, and of course slow means more of "good" but with a slower pump of his fingers. Spoil the daylights out of him. ]}

[counterattack]

[ If he should think twice about those growls and purrs, he doesn't. Honestly, if anything, it just adds to the experience, and... maybe he should feel weird about that, too, but nope. Hard to say if it's just that he's already run the gauntlet of experiences dealing with monsterified people or being one himself, or if he's just a freak, but either way—Gladio lets out that animalistic noise and Law answers with a sound of his own, decidedly more human, but the sentiment is the same. Those ears pin back and Law brings his hands up to rub behind them, balancing himself in Gladio's lap with nothing but the squeeze of his knees around the outside of his thighs.

The gasp that's dragged out of him winds up muffled against Gladio's lips, and so does the warbling moan afterward. There's one particular thing on offer here that gets the biggest reaction out of him: any guesses on which one? It's the one that turns the plaintive kisses to love bites and the steady tremble of his muscles as he tries to hold still to give way to writhing. ]

Mm—that. Yeah. More.

[ That's a new word that's easy for him to learn, too. Not one he's used to using when it comes to wanting for anything, but if this is where it gets him, he could sure come around to the idea. Just fuck him up, fam. ]

[indeferent]

<sub>[ Alright, maybe he's going to have to spend some time out in the wilds where the incense is still thick. Maybe he's going to have to spend some quality time with that other side of himself and get a better handle on it because the deep, guttural snarl that slips out in kind makes his skin flush down to his shoulders. Maybe he's going to owe Zephyr a formal apology for returning his son to him with a throat full of bruises that extends down to his chest. Maybe...

Maybe Gladio shoves all of that away and chokes down a second growl into the space between their mouths. He asks for more through a thick accent and with those fingers delightfully curled around the curve of his ear and touching soft fur how could he refuse? How, he asks? The answer is simple, really:

He doesn't. ]</sub>

—Yeah.

_{[ It's easier with Law sitting up on his knees like this. It's easier for Gladio to curl an arm around the small of his back and pull him close, eyes dropping between them to admire his own handiwork. The trail of hickeys that seem to bleed from his collar to parts of his chest, all the way down to the ones littered across his hips. Not to toot his own horn(s) by any means but he thinks he's done a fantastic job leaving his mark and he almost can't wait to see how much Law has marked him up in return. For now it's only second place to easing his fingers out of Law with some reluctance and blindly patting along the mattress for that damned jar— ]}

[counterattack]

[ Gladio might flush, but Law finds some way to manage to grin, the corner of his mouth twisting at that rough snarl of his. In some ways, he understands that even better than he does the human speech, even through all the intonations and pantomime. It's true enough that he has a pretty solid grasp on not just the farm animals but beasts now, so maybe that's what makes it easy for him. He knows a good, satisfied snarl when he hears it, even though he's never... well. He's certainly never heard it like this.

Continuing the trend, Law whines as Gladio's fingers slip free, as his cock slides against Gladio's stomach when he's pulled in close. Breathless and not just a little shaky, he exhales and all the strength feels like it drains out of his muscles now that his whole body isn't completely taut. His fingers drag down from behind Gladio's ears to the back of his neck, blunt nails carding down his shoulderblades, his back. When he catches that hand fumbling for the jar, he doesn't even think twice about the thoughts frantically pinging around in his head. Drunk, worked up, eager, something else—he has no idea what it is that loosens his tongue up this way and doesn't care. He just acts, pressing himself closer, leaning up toward Gladio's ear and murmuring, hoarse: ]

You better not hold back.

[ It's slow and pointedly enunciated, like if he says it really clearly, Gladio will know exactly what it means. Honestly, in a rough purr like that? It does kind of speak for itself, what he wants, what he's asking for, what he's encouraging. Which is funny, because once again, he doesn't really know, himself. It just feels right. Speaking and acting on emotion and raw hormones, hardly able to hold still, starved for touch again the moment he isn't saturated in it. Spoiled.

And... alright, he can't take it, he leans to the side to grab that jar and press it into Gladio's hand. It's right there. How's he supposed to wait? ]

...I mean about anything. Show me everything. I'll still like it 'cause it's you. You know that, right? I couldn't feel any other way when it comes to you.