[He's overwhelmed. It's the only word appropriate, and even then it doesn't encompass the full extent of what Ignis is currently feeling. His entire body trembles under Gladio's weight, his lips tingling from repeated hard kisses, and gods he's already tired but they're doing this again and nothing in him wants to refuse.

His hips jerk against his lover's hands, his fingers curling tight into the sheets and digging against Gladio's back. This man is... everything he ever wanted, and he had grown so close to brushing it aside for the sake of his own pride.]

I love you. [Ignis murmurs into a kiss, gripping his hair again to hold him against it. He shudders, nipping at Gladio's lip. That's what he wanted to hear, isn't it? He'll tell him. He'll tell him every day for the rest of their lives if he can.

I love you, Gladiolus Amicitia.]

( Perhaps, as racked and exhausted by their last session as they are, the lube is unnecessary. The fingers too. But Gladiolus has found a second wind in these confessions, a fire stoked that makes him want to do this entire dance, every step that leads up to it. Hands cling to him and for once he feels them for more than just the need of the physical act or the need to forget. They're warm and solid and as reassuring as the words pressed into his lips, and Gladio exhales as his fingers slide in deep, slow and even thrusts in time with each kiss and nip of teeth.

He has loved this man for longer than he can truly pinpoint, from days in the Citadel pressed against the wall, always holding back for the sake of Ignis' comfort. Always being patient because they'd too many responsibilities as teenagers to get tangled up in feelings the way they are now. He's loved him through days on the road, sleeping in tents surrounded by glowing light that keeps daemons away or in motels they all secretly complained about because they were twenty years old and grew up in the lap of luxury. Loved him through the wreckage of Altissia and the stumbling blindness, right up until this moment.

Perhaps they have more responsibilities than their teenage selves did. Perhaps the tent seems like luxury and the motels even more so. And perhaps Ignis moves as though his sight still exists, flawless and elegant, but Gladiolus is too tired and has aged too much in this world to let the one spark of light in a world of permanent night be extinguished by holding it too tightly in his chest. He loves Ignis, and he always will. That is the one thing the Starscourge cannot change. )

[Unnecessary, yes, but Gladio will hear no complaints from Ignis. He'll hear nothing at all from him but the soft, low moan as fingers slide in so easily and Ignis presses down against the sensation, pleasure tingling along already sensitive nerves. His hips rock down slowly, following the movement of Gladio's hand and his breathing unsteadies all too quickly against the sensations flaring back to life again.

Things were simpler when they were younger. Sometimes Ignis feels like fifty years have passed since they last gathered around a campfire or piled into a single hotel room and argued over who would have to share a bed or sleep on the floor. Years since his sight was taken. Years since the four of them were all together. Six, the problems they faced then seem so juvenile in comparison.

But all the while, Ignis had Gladio. He's always known it. Through glances shared, through the way they would grudgingly volunteer to share a tent or a sleeping space, through morning runs and breakfasts and the gentle brush of hands as they passed one another, and the kisses stolen when no one was watching. Gladio has always been there, and Ignis has loved him for longer than he can remember.

His hips twitch, jerking up as a pulse of sudden need draws a gasp from his chest and he pulls the man against him for another kiss, muffling another shaky moan against his lips.]

( Something which has always, or nearly always, been there. The retinue of his father's generation ended with two dead and two strangers, miles apart with nothing but veiled references to that time. They could have easily stumbled into the same places, nearly did in the worst moments when everything became too much. Without Noctis here, it's easy to be so caught up in their individual responsibilities that they lose track of each other, but Ignis has always had his own sort of pull. Beyond this, beyond the smell of an excellent meal, Ignis is the closest thing to home Gladio has any more. A place of comfort and history, as familiar as the path from the Amicitia estate to the Citadel or the local schools.

He doesn't need to think here, nor doubt meanings behind Ignis' grasping fingers and firm kisses. Words repeated just moments ago echo in his skull, and Gladiolus doesn't waste any more time with the thrusts of his hand, urging Ignis' legs further apart as he presses down between them and guides himself inside carefully, slowly, the habit ingrained more than anything.

He wants to say more, to repeat those three words again, but the sensation snatches breath from his lungs every goddamned time and all that comes out is a low groan of a curse as he leans over, forehead brushing Ignis' lightly. )

[As over-stimulated and weary as he is already, it doesn't take much at all to have Ignis producing the kinds of sounds that Gladio usually has to put some time into working for. He groans out loudly at the fullness of his lover pressing inside him again, head tilting back and his legs shifting restlessly before they come to rest hooked loosely against the base of Gladio's back.

His fingers tremble, but find some stability in running into his lover's hair, holding his forehead gently against his own with his eyes half shut and hazy with arousal despite their blindness.

I love you.

Gods, he should have said it months ago. Years ago. It's as if those words forged something instant between them that makes this all the more intense. He makes a sound that might have been the start of gasping Gladio's name, but it chokes off at the first syllable, interrupted by a smooth, deep thrust.]

( Gladio's too distracted by the noises, by the brushing of warm skin against his, to think about should haves and could have beens. Things might have been different if he'd pressed the issue earlier, but right now there's a man - beautiful and smart and really, really bad at handling his attraction - wrapped around him like he needs nothing else right now and it's far more important than letting himself get caught up in the impossible.

Those words are there, permanent and unable to be taken away, and they play through Gladio's mind with each rock of his hips, each time his mouth finds Ignis' between gasps and low moans. First lips, then cheeks and jaw and neck, anything Gladio can reach as he keeps the pace steady long enough to shift his weight onto one hand and wrap the other around Ignis' cock, stroking in time with each press of his hips inside him. )

[He loses grip on his thoughts quickly enough, everything in his mind summarily flying apart at each press into his body. His jaw subtly tightens between moans, his eyes opening and fixing blindly on the ceiling before they close, and he responds near-feverishly to every kiss that is planted on his lips.

Like this, he can forget. Gods, he can forget everything. The darkness, the daemons, their losses as a world and a people and his own, far more personal ones. He can forget everything save for the mounting pleasure, the warmth and the man moving above him.]

Gods-- [Ignis breathes out, sensitive enough to already be half-way to climax the moment they started. His hips jerk again, thighs tensing, a noise that's undeniably a whine leaving him as fingers touch his cock.] Not so fast--

( Without the sun, Lestallum's temperatures dropped sharply, the city becoming colder than Gladiolus thinks it's ever been - but the warmth of two bodies pressed together - tired as they may be from earlier - hearts racing from the very start, makes all of that disappear. Here and now, they're as warm as they were under the midday sun, a mess of tangled limbs and desperate movement.

The request takes more than a moment to sink in, for Gladio to slow his movements down, the shift in waves of pleasure almost maddening in the way he draws the time out, gentle each time he pushes forward, the touch of his thumb over the head of Ignis' cock a soft, exploring thing, rubbing the slit and tracing down, always in time to the movements of his hips. )

Ah... Better?

( It's his foremost concern. It always has been. What's better for him? What leaves him groaning and coming undone at Gladio's touches?

The important things. )

[The slowed pace doesn't help in the least, particularly when it's coupled with the way Gladio's hand moves over his cock like he's touching it for the first time. Ignis catches a groan in his throat, trying desperately to regain some of the composure entirely decimated by the revelations of the last hour and this, but he can only manage to grasp at a few threads before the rest slip away.

He doesn't answer, but instead he curses softly in a language that Gladio doesn't know, gripping onto his shoulders as he feels the slow, steady, but unavoidable pulses of pleasure mounting between his hips and out to every inch of his body.

It's a quiet and unhurried thing, in the end. A soft 'ah, ah, ah' and a tensing of thighs and hips, a kiss pressed hard to his lover's mouth as he shudders silently through his climax.]

( He's heard it before, years ago, when Ignis was so wrapped up in books filled with that language, so busy learning, that he practically hummed it everywhere he walked. It's a familiar, musical lilt of a curse, so soft Gladiolus might even call it beautiful. Or perhaps that's just because of what it signals, the gentle pulse of his orgasm spreading warm between them as Gladio continues slow, tender shifts of his hips and returns the kiss with every piece of long unspoken feelings between them caught up in it.

He doesn't last much longer. A few more thrusts, a wordless groan, a muscular arm wrapped tight around Ignis' shoulders, lips pressed clumsily to every part of his face as the wave rides through him.

By the Six--

He's glad. Glad that Ignis finally gave him an answer, glad that he even met the man in the first place. There's a whole other vibrant world which opened up before Gladiolus, and it's all thanks to Ignis. )

[It rolls over him in slow, steady waves and draws another harsh, breathless gasp before the end. Was it just that he hadn't fully recovered from the first, or something more than that? Something closer to the words and affirmations passed between the two of them before they started?

Ignis groans again, quietly as he sinks into the bed and lets himself slowly relax, gathering his mind and composure back together. He keeps his eyes closed for several long moments, then lets them open as his heavy breathing evens out.]

I suppose... I did keep you waiting long enough. [He murmurs with a small, lopsided smile. An understatement by any account, but it doesn't feel right to make something like that kind of confession linger too long in seriousness. Ignis pushes a hand into Gladio's hair, pressing a few soft, warm kisses to his lips.]

But you should know... I'm very irritated with you now. [Lightly, he smooths his thumb across the other man's cheek bone.] For giving me something else to lose.

Edited (holy repetitiveness) 2018-09-01 03:41 pm (UTC)

( He keeps himself propped up just long enough to move off Ignis before he collapses against the bed. No amount of fighting can really train a man for the exhaustion of such emotional confessions or the adrenaline and thunder of making love. There's a different kind of intensity to it, one which leaves sweat beading down his back and across his forehead as he catches his breath and stretches out on the bed, a moment's respite before the kisses rain down on his lips and breathlessness turns into a smile. )

I don't go down that easy. ( ... Not in battle anyway. Gladiolus catches Ignis' hand in his, running his thumb over knuckles idly. It's a fear they both share, all the more acutely since the events that hastened the darkness, the loss of their Prince.

He can't say Ignis won't lose him, though he'll try his damnedest to make sure it doesn't happen. All he can do is make whatever time they have together worth it. )

I'll hold you to that. [Ignis replies, with a firmness in his voice that he doesn't feel. He shuts his eyes for a moment and focuses on nothing but Gladio's body against his, their hands clasped together, and he exhales a slow, steady breath.

So. This is what it comes to.]

I'll be right back. [He says then, giving the other man's fingers a small squeeze and sliding from the bed. A well-known move, by now, and Six knows Gladio must be so painfully used to seeing the back of him, but when Ignis returns this time it's not partly dressed to wait out the awkward minutes until one of them leaves.

No, this time, he settles back beside Gladio with a soft huff, pressing his forehead into a broad shoulder.

It's different.

He... Yes. He could get used to this.]

( Ignis says that and Gladiolus almost feels his heart sink through his chest into his stomach, that move so incredibly familiar that the emotional reaction is all but automatic, and the lurch of joy which follows his return is almost boyish in its intensity and glee.

By the Six, Iggy, what have you done to him to make him so utterly hooked, so utterly in need of you?

His lips find Ignis' hair and drop a kiss into it, an arm wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer still. No words exchanged, just the softness of even breath as they sink into something new. Something unfamiliar and yet so comfortable that Gladiolus can only think they were always meant to have it. )

[He would be lying if he said he didn't feel something to, and it makes him wonder just why it took him so long to stop running. It feels so foolish now, so far behind them as Gladio's lips press against his hair and he's pulled in closer.

This could have been something they'd had, if he'd allowed it. If Gladio had ever said anything... But no, Gladio was too patient, and he had been too afraid of what he could lose to realise how close he was to losing it.]

Your sister will never let us hear the end of it. [Ignis murmurs softly after a few minutes have passed in quiet comfort. Iris had been rooting for this since the first time she'd seen how the two of them looked at each other.] You know that, don't you?