counterattack | A LAWFUL WASTELAND

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

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

all is well.

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

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

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From:

indeferent

_{[ Should anyone ask Gladio why he once threw himself to the proverbial wolves as often as he did, he'd answer with this. Pride had a small part to play in it (obviously), but it was everything Law was doing to him that was the biggest draw — the blunt bite of his nails digging into his back and spine, the almost-keening, near involuntary gasps and whines that slip from Law's lips, the dazed look in sea-colored eyes, the tenderness in them and his voice... That's not even getting into the rest of it, too. The trust Law must have to just let Gladio go speaks volumes to the elder of the two. The near-painful clench of his body when he shifts a certain way, the ache building in Gladio's thighs and the tremble he feels upon running his hands over Law's own, and—

Fuck. Fuck, man— the way Law rasps his name damn near makes Gladio keen. Purple fur bristles and rises with the thrill of it and if Law bears down harder than he ought to, Gladio is just as guilty by groping at his hips and pulling him down. Deeper, more needy and wanting. Anything to feel closer, to get closer to that comfortable warmth growing low in his belly. All those flings were never just about the sex, but the connection.

One Gladio never managed to find until Copalli. Who'd a thunk it'd take traveling across time and space to an entirely new world to find it? The thought alone makes his breath hitch, makes him press their foreheads just a little closer together until he feels like he could easily read Law's thoughts if he just tried hard enough. ]}

I-I know. Shit, Law—

_{[ He knows. He teeters on the precipice himself and trusting Law to keep his hold good and tight, Gladio worms his hand back between their bellies and starts stroking with a clumsy rhythm that probably won't even matter. His head tilts a little to look, swallowing hard. No matter how good his endurance is even Gladio isn't immune to getting a little breathless like this. ]}

Should've... Ah... Should'a asked before if y'want it in or out... S'okay though. I got you. You first. C'mon, lemme see you. Lemme hear...

_{[ Let me feel. ]

Gimme all you've got, Law. I can take it.}

From:

counterattack

[ He'd never have imagined in a million years that he'd be here, like this, pretty much... ever, really. Maybe someday, but not now. Not on his eighteenth birthday, in Copalli, with somebody from a completely different world. Somebody he's been attracted to for a year, besides, who already professed to having never noticed he felt that way. If he could think straight, he'd have to wonder—is it the alcohol? The incense, even? Or is it really just him, something he said or did? Just physical attraction, animal instinct coupled with clouded judgment, or something more than that? Law hadn't ever really dared to think too hard on his feelings, but it's hard to help it now, their foreheads pressed together, wrapped around each other like a couple of snakes, so close it almost feels like they're sharing the same breaths back and forth, drenched with sweat and whispering each other's names. Barely any common language between them beyond what few words they've managed to teach each other in this short span of time, and yet when he'd said he knew how to talk with his body, he hadn't realized just how different it would be, how much more intense.

It's literal, the way he answers every movement of Gladio's body with his, giving as good as he gets—more than he gets, even after it starts to drift into rough territory, hard on him and verging into painful, but he can't bring himself to help it when it feels like they both want it, maybe even need it, so bad. Anyone who's ever been deprived will tell you that having it just once won't satisfy you; it'll only make the desperation for it worse. Being touch-starved isn't something that can be cured in one sitting; it can't even be helped in the moment it's happening. Law's fingers drag up Gladio's back, lips pulling back with a strangled moan, hips bucking, pressing himself closer, pushing himself harder, somewhat unwittingly conveying the less literal sentiment of finally having that year-long pining for contact come to an end and doing anything and everything he can to keep from having it happen again.

Gladio's hand closes around his cock and Law makes a sound like he's been punched in the stomach, it all hits him that hard. Taut, riveted and shaking before he even spills, he whines and then keens, eyes squeezing shut. If he'd thought the first round earlier had been intense, this—god. He comes so hard he sees stars, not wailing and howling but crying out like he's fucking dying with broken syllables that happen to be some particularly colorful swears he picked up from his stint working with the Renans.

The only thing he's even vaguely conscious of is how hard he digs his blunt nails into the blades of Gladio's shoulders, and eventually he loosens his grip, leaving a collection of crescent-shaped marks in his wake. But that doesn't mean he lets go, absolutely not. And as for the rest of him, he stays as close as Gladio lets him, gasping his name out between breaths. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ Law's nails scratch against an old scar nestled somewhere in the tailfeathers of his tattoo and the noise it pulls from Gladio should be embarrassing to him — a hitch of breath and a high, almost-whine that ends with a slurred curse of his own intermingled with Law's name. Did he know that spot was so sensitive all these years later? Obviously not given the reaction and the fact that no one has touched it before now. Hell, even now Gladio can count the number of people who've touched the massive one bisecting his torso on one hand; Law. Noctis. Sura. And... He thinks that's it. They're all sensitive in varying degrees, but that one... It's all he can do to not beg and plead for more. He's not even sure if he can form the right words for it, so he sticks to mumbling Law's name over and over.

He's so lost in it that the choking, keening cry damn near sends Gladio into a panic. It's only the press of Law's knees into his sides and the all-too-familiar rake of nails down his back, the violent shake and the heat splashing across his fingers that pulls him back to reality. It's the sudden tightness around his own cock buried as far as he can go, and Gladio's pace becomes erratic. Law has a deathgrip on him in more ways than one and Gladio manages two, maybe three more strong rolls before he follows with a snarl and bared teeth. A growl that's felt more than heard, reverberating from deep within his chest and spilling deep.

It'll warrant a slew of apologies once both of their heads clear, but for now? Gladio rides the high of it all and slows his pace to a crawl. He gives Law everything he's got until he's wrung out and shaking and then — only then — does Gladio wrap both arms around his back and slowly rocks the both of them back, back, and back. He falls against the bed with him secure in his hold, and he just... lies there.

He can hear his heart beating a hundred miles an hour in his ears. His lungs burn and his chest heaves with each breath taken, but none of it matters in the moment. Gladio reaches up with a slightly shaking hand, carding his fingers through sweat-slicked hair and seeking out a particularly good spot to scratch along Law's scalp. Breathe, it says. Breathe. He's... He's got Law.

He's got him. ]}

From:

counterattack

[ There aren't any words for how it feels, or for how he feels, and that's good, because he's not so sure he could speak anyway. That growl, honestly, is kind of apt. Maybe a howl would be, too, but Law isn't quite that far down the monster rabbit hole yet. (It won't be long, though.) Instead, he answers back with gasps and groans, hanging on tight as they tip backwards and then trying, clumsily, to support at least some of his weight so that he isn't completely collapsed on top of him. At some point, he's not sure when, he realizes they're breathing in sync, shoulders rising and falling, lips parted. He's never really stared into someone else's eyes and done that before, or if he ever has, it was meditative, a breathing exercise during one of his classes or training or something like that. Not like this. It might be the most intimate thing he's experienced since they got here, which is impressive, you know... considering. But that's just how he feels.

Shifting on one elbow, Law's palm fits itself against the side of Gladio's face, cupping his jaw, his thumb grazing his cheek. He's trembling, too—no, shaking is a better word for it. Shaking, and as the endorphins keep sailing higher and higher, he feels a little lightheaded, too. No mental wherewithal to process anything but sparking bolts of pleasure, sweat-damp skin on skin and heat. God, it's so warm. How are blankets ever supposed to get the job done when there's body heat like this to enjoy instead?

All it takes is a tip of his chin to catch Gladio's lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one he does without caring about the rivulets of sweat snaking down his face or how they're still breathing too hard for a proper kiss. It isn't supposed to be a proper kiss. It's just... a feeling. Talking with his body some more, even if he's not really cognizant of what he's really trying to say with it. It just feels right. And when he pulls back to catch his breath and still can't think of what to say? He just does it again a second time. It's a couple minutes before he even bothers to try speaking. ]

He doesn't deserve you. You really are incredible.

[ The first part, Gladio never needs to know he said it. But the second part, he enunciates the last word again for him, syllable by gravelly syllable. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ He may try to spare Gladio from taking the bulk of his weight but as soon as he feels Law shifting away to do so, his arm cinches tight around his back and pulls him flush. Nuh-uh. There's no chance in hell that he's going to slip away that easily and he makes that particular intention known by letting his grip loosen little by little with each breath until Gladio snakes his hand up his spine. Once he reaches the back of his neck he squeezes it in a silent plea to stay. Not that he thinks Law intends to go anywhere, just... to stay where he is. Just like he is.

But he sure as hell isn't saying no to the way Law moves to cradle Gladio's face. The effect is immediate — Law's thumb brushes over his cheek and the scar running through it, and the Shield-turned-Behemoth presses further into his touch like some sort of needy, touch-starved animal desperate for the smallest shred of affection. It's not even like he's lacking it in the long run, it's more... Six, it's complicated. Did his father ever have moments like this with his mother? He knows his parents were affectionate towards one another, but he doesn't... He doesn't know if Clarus struggled. He doesn't know if it's a Shield thing or strictly a Gladio-Thing. Still, it's not outright stopping him from seeking it out.

He doesn't have it in him to dive head-first into the next kiss Law plants on him. Law takes the lead on that those ones and for once Gladio is more than content to go along with it, fingers squeezing just above his nape after the second. And the third. Gladio even starts to tilt his chin up for a forth but as he does Law starts to speak, making him pause to try and decipher it. Safe to say that first part is entirely lost on him outside of the "you", and the second half... He still doesn't get it but the feeling is there which is really the most important part and with how slowly Law says it? By gods does Gladio try. ]}

Inedible.

_{[ Gladio utters it so confidently with that stupid ass grin of his. Remember kids, the keyword was: try. ]}

Did I say it right?

From:

counterattack

[ Sensitive and spent, Law doesn't resist when Gladio pulls him in. It's all he can do not to utterly collapse onto him, but pressing as close as he can get, soaking in the warmth and the closeness, his tail fanned out to the side, touching from chest to hip? Yeah, that he can get behind. Or in front of. On top of. Whichever.

It hardly feels like it makes sense to laugh after something like this (although frankly he isn't sure why he thinks that—maybe just because it's supposed to be a big deal, because the afterglow is intense and almost as heated as the sex had been, just in a different sort of way), but he can't help it when Gladio grins at him like that or when he butchers that word the best possible way he could've. Law's nose wrinkles as he grins back, the kind of smile that stretches across his whole face, and even if his shoulders only slightly shake with a not-quite-there sound, the amusement's still pretty clear. Who the hell cares about decorum when they can just be themselves, anyway? ]

Yeah, I dunno about that one.

[ Haha get it because........... put that on the mental checklist for next time. He... did say there would be a next time, already, right? So it's not weird of him to assume? God, he's way too out of it for any kind of worrying and fussing like that right now. His fingers slide down to tweak Gladio's chin, knuckles brushing against his beard. ]

In-CRED-ible. Amazing. Stupendous. Fantastic. A knockout. Next-level. Ten outta ten, no notes. That all means really good.

[ The overused good is starting to wear out its welcome, but it can have one last outing, he guesses. ]

From:

indeferent

_{[ It's rare that Gladio laughs in such a way that he snorts, like... Truly, honest-to-gods snorts as if he'd just heard the funniest joke on Eos. He really tries to keep it under wraps all while Law laughs with him but those defenses crumble immediately upon Law's fingers pinching just under his chin. That, his dear Calaglian, is ticklish. Coupled with that and the way he enunciates each and every word that follows, well.

No wonder he winds up with a case of the giggles. The last time anyone had taken such a cheap shot at his weak spots had been Iris and that was only because she knew where all of his were courtesy of what she dubbed "sister privilege". To think that Law could find one so easily damn near leaves him flustered in a good way. To Gladio, it means that what they've got is natural. Like two pieces that were meant to fit together. Like what he's got with the others, only without any of the crippling weight of the world resting upon their shoulders. ]}

Really good? For all I know you could be sayin' that I smell. Or countin' somethin'.

_{[ He even goes as far as to repeat some of them — poorly — and it only makes Gladio laugh that much harder. Knockout is one he definitely botches, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. If anything it only makes him tilt his head down to clumsily press a kiss to the ends of Law's fingers, the rest of him shifting underneath so he can tangle their legs together. One of Gladio's slots neatly between Law's, and his free one simply presses against a calf. That's better. Once he's got the both of them all nice and situated Gladio settles back and shuts his eyes for a few moments, the only signs that he's still conscious being the half-laughs, the content smile that Law winds up pulling out of him, and the steady rub of his hand up and down his back from nape-to-tail. Eventually he finds his words again and his voice is low, just above a murmur. ]}

...I meant it, you know. 'bout not knowing what I'd do if... You know. This is fun. You're fun. I honestly can't remember the last time I've been able to be me in this world, y'know? I've spent the better part of a year tryin' to protect people—us—and the months before that were just... shitty. Not all of it, but towards the end it was bad. Then we all wound up here 'n I started turning into the sort of thing we'd hunt for a quick gil and I thought... I dunno. You're makin' me see that it's not all bad, though. You still... You like me. You ain't afraid of it, 'n you haven't even seen it yet, and I...

_{[ Six, he's babbling. Gladio seems to realize this and for a moment he bites at his bottom lip as a sort of distraction, then angles his head to kiss Law's fingers again. ]}

Blondie was a dumbass to let you go. To not see what was right in front of him.

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A LAWFUL WASTELAND

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