ffkinkmeme: Final Fantasy Kink (Default)
[personal profile] ffkinkmeme posting in [community profile] final_fantasy_kink_meme
Here is the Prompt Post for Final Fantasy 15! As the most recent individual instalment, FFXV has a dedicated post in anticipation of higher activity. This round will close when we reach 5000 comments.

Rules

1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on Ao3 is allowed, but links must still be posted on anon.
2. Concrit is welcome as per the author, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking (derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt) are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage and character death is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts may be cross-posted in any relevant prompting post.
5. Please link all fills to the Fills Post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
 
If you have any concerns or spot any rule violations please comment on the Ask a Mod post. Beyond that post and have fun!


Prompting Guidelines

1. Include the name of the Final Fantasy game/media you're prompting for, followed by the characters involved in the subject title.
2. For pairings use the name/name format (examples: Noctis/Prompto, Locke/Celes, Zack/Cloud/Sephiroth).
3. It's not required but we highly recommend including kinks and content warnings in the subject as well.


Links

Final Fantasy 1-6 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasty 7-14 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasy 15 Prompt Post: #1
Final Fantasy Dissidia, Tactics, Media and crossovers Prompt Post: #1

Ask a Mod
Fills Post
Chat and Off-Topic Discussion
Pinboard

FFXV: Prompto/any bro, new dom/experienced sub

Date: 2018-03-02 03:24 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
One of the bro finds out Prompto's into BDSM and somehow lets on that they are too although they've never acted on the urge. Prompto offers to show them the ropes.

(Prompto can be a switch and not a sub, but I'd like to his offer be to sub for the inexperienced bro.)
From: (Anonymous)
The young man would have fit right in as a subject in the paintings hanging in the museum: fine features, a full mouth, lush, dark curls that just brushed his neck. . .and, Ignis noted, a conspicuously blank white t-shirt.

"Gladio," he said. "Down that hall. The young man in the white."

"You mean the one who's not wearing an access pass?"

"Precisely."

Gladio began to move through the crush of people like he was wading through surf, making his way towards the young man just as the curly head bobbed through the crowd to hurry towards where Noctis and Prompto stood milling about near an armor display, and that was incentive enough for Ignis to begin pushing through the crowd as well. While Ignis had been thinking that the dedication ceremony for the new museum wing could have been more interesting, he would have preferred it didn't occur via security breach.

The same qualities that made it easy for Gladio to cut through the crowd unfortunately made it very obvious as to when he'd arrived at his destination. The bark of, "Hey," and an iron hand clamping onto the young man's shoulder just as he managed to reach for Prompto were like a throwing a boulder in a still pond as the crowd rippled away from the disturbance. "You want to tell me what you're doing here?"

It took no time at all to realize they would be better served by an interrogation happening elsewhere. While Prompto and Noctis were trying to ask what was going on Ignis grabbed the nearest Crownsguard he could find, a woman named Eldith—family in Caem, crackshot with a hunting rifle—to take custody of the intruder, and left Gladio with the prince while they shuffled the young man to an abandoned alcove behind the grand staircase. Ignis held his back to the wall with a fist in the lapel of his coat.

"Now then. Would you like to tell me what you're doing here?"

Through a very quick questioning the young man maintained the story that he was an acquaintance of Prompto Argentum who knew he'd be attending and hoped to see him there. To improve Ignis' night, Cor Leonis came striding into the alcove with an easy step over the braided divider that cordoned it off from the hall. "Ignis, Eldith, I've got chatter about an attempt on the prince all over the museum. Someone want to explain what's going on here?"

The young man wailed, "I just wanted to talk to Prompto!"

Ignis winced. The boy—hard to think of him as anything approaching a man after that unbearable whine—had a real future as an ambulance siren. "False alarm, I believe, Marshal."

Before he could explain any further, Prompto himself came skidding around the corner with Noctis following him and Gladio on their heels. An unusual role reversal, that.

"Rhasa, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, man!" The boy perked up like a puppy whose owner had been away all day.

"Argentum," Cor growled, and Prompto shrank.

"I'm fairly certain Prompto's guilty of nothing but poor taste in company, Marshal," Ignis said. He squeezed hard on the boy's shoulder. "Gladio and I spotted our young friend here in the corridor off the east wing, well away from His Highness and Prompto. He got access to a restricted area in what can only have been a lapse in perimeter security."

It was the best kind of misdirection, in Ignis' opinion: a legitimate one. Cor frowned. "Where were you stationed, Eldith? Did you see any of this?"

"The entry point out of that corridor into the main hall." Eldith's mouth twitched. "The only way I could've seen was standing on someone's shoulders, sir." Built like a boulder, Eldith looked as though someone had made Gladio female and then chopped a foot and a half off the bottom. She might've stopped a garula at a full gallop, but for her to see through the crush down the hall would've been impossible.

"All right," Cor sighed. "Eldith, you're with me. I want to find out who should've been at the entrance, and I want them in the security office in two minutes. You all too. I'm afraid that includes you, as well, Your Highness."

Noctis shrugged. "It's better than sitting through the dedication."

When only the four of them remained, Ignis turned his attention toward Prompto. "I hadn't wanted to bring this up in front of the Marshal, but—"

"If you fucked him just tell me he's legal," Gladio said, which certainly got the point across.

"He's nineteen," Prompto said. "I met him at a club."

"And you think the kind of kid who'd sneak past security here isn't going to try to sneak into a bar?"

"It's the kind of place that's really careful about checking stuff like that!"

Ignis noticed Noct was looking everywhere but at them: whatever he knew, he also knew it wasn't his place to say. It gave him some hope that what lessons on discretion he'd attempted to drill into Noct had been successful in at least this small measure, but he suspected it had more to do with solidarity with Prompto.

"The Silver Circle, okay?" Prompto mumbled when Gladio and Ignis had been staring at him for long enough. "I met him at The Silver Circle last Friday."

Gladio whistled.

"Ah," said Ignis. Suddenly it was clear as to why Prompto was so reticent to divulge where he'd met the current thorn in their side. "Gladio, please stop looking impressed and take Prompto and His Highness to the security office as the Marshal requested. I'll be over in a moment."

When the others had turned the corner of the staircase, Ignis leaned against the marble wall in solitude for a handful of deep, careful breaths.

While The Silver Circle hosted burlesque shows, educational demonstrations, and the occasional fundraiser, its primary claim to fame was for the fetish-themed nights they held every weekend. The titular circle was a play on words between the platform stage the performances took place on and the elegant, gleaming collar that served as the logo and primary branding. The long rivalry between Kingsglaive and Crownsguard had resulted in more than one round of daring each other to step foot in to gawk or feel brave. Ignis had never partaken. He knew of it only by reputation of brash young Guards tittering in the locker room, and by reading—and re-reading, every so often—their website, the calendar of events, tormenting himself with visions of a place he didn't dare venture into, even in the insulating presence of other Crownsguard.

The intellectual knowledge that there could be no possible suspicion of him based on Prompto was little consolation. The niggling sense of exposure followed him as he tried to turn his focus to the matter at hand, which desperately needed it. There would be incident reports filed on the alleged assassination attempt and the security breach itself, which meant interviews with their tearful young pest, and Noct and Prompto, as well as the other Crownsguard on duty and the third-party museum security who were likely responsible. All that simply to determine who would require full statements.

The small office their security force had been using as central command for the event was so crowded Cor was rotating people in for preliminary interviews. Ignis stepped out of his own questioning to find Gladio sitting on his haunches in the corridor with his head tipped back against the wall.

"Surprised you're still here," Ignis said.

"Prompto's still here to make sure loverboy gets home okay, so Noctis is still here, so I'm still here. Hard to believe this mess is because that bonehead had to see Prompto. Kid's great and all but I've seen him trip over his own feet over a pretty girl. He can't be that great a lay."

"And it's only getting messier," Ignis agreed.

Rhasa Amari—who was by all official records indeed nineteen years old, a recent graduate of Insomnia's most elite private academy, studying law at university—was the owner of one late-model heavily upgraded sports car. One which had been towed from its illegal parking space.

Ignis couldn't muster much sympathy, although it did give him the satisfaction later of seeing Rhasa's equally entitled parents come face to face with the Marshal of the Crownsguard and the prince's Shield in the midst of threatening to sue all parties who'd lain hands on their son. If Ignis didn't tolerate that sort of entitlement in their future monarch he certainly wasn't going to in someone who was even more spoiled and for less cause. He gladly left them to it. Prompto typically relied on public transportation that wasn't running at so late an hour, and would likely need a ride home.

#

In the car, Prompto shifted uneasily in his seat. "Hey, thanks for going to bat for me with the Marshal."

"It wasn't worth the headache Noct would cause if you were disciplined appropriately."

"What? What did I do?"

"Presumably Rhasa was only aware you would be at the dedication because you told him."

"Yeah, I said my friend had to be there so I was going to keep him company. Guess he thought it would have to be someone pretty important if they got stuck at that thing, huh?"

Ignis was skeptical of that, having seen the lengths the boy had gone to to see Prompto and thoroughly ignore Noct, but when he glanced over Prompto was looking at him wide-eyed, guileless as always.

"Is it because it's a guy?"

Ignis' gloves creaked as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That," he said carefully, "would be wildly hypocritical of me."

The engine hummed along in solitude for some time as the towering high-rises of the city center gave way to a more modest residential district. The silence that filled the car lacked the air of mutually assured destruction Ignis was accustomed to in such unexpected revelations, as when he'd run bodily into a burly Kingsglaive scurrying out of the back room in a particular bookstore. Nor was it comfortable. Prompto shifted in his seat incessantly.

Having come of age in a sphere ruled by the need for marriage alliances and heirs, knowing what it might have done to know someone else like him, Ignis' impulse was for sympathy, but as it was Prompto's indiscretion in frequenting a sex club that had brought them here it was unlikely he needed encouragement.

Eventually, Prompto said very quietly, "I didn't know that. Was I supposed to know that?"

"The relevant personnel at the palace are aware. It's not information I make a habit of divulging beyond that."

"Right, gotcha. Yeah, everything about you is like a black box, mystery door kind of deal."

"It doesn't happen by accident. I am keenly aware of how my behavior could effect the royal house, given my proximity to Noct." In a way Ignis envied Prompto's infuriating thoughtlessness, the luxury to think of so little outside of himself. "You clearly lack the same education—if through no real fault of your own—but you must understand that whatever scandal touches you will no doubt cast a shadow on him as well, and that includes overdramatic lovers making a scene, gender irrelevant."

"He's not my—he was new and didn't know anyone, so I showed him around and we played around a little. I didn't even have sex with him."

"Oh, truly the salient point here," Ignis said, no longer able to contain his irritation. "Somehow I doubt it was a limiting factor in your acquaintance. Who did what to whom and how is not relevant, although I do hope you had better sense than to let him be in charge of tying anything more complicated than his own shoes." He regretted it immediately. That sort of lapse was a dangerous weakness, and Prompto's head whipping to face him with a flick of blond in the fuzzy corner of Ignis' vision proved it.

"No, I topped," Prompto said. In someone else's voice it might have sounded thoughtful. "Wouldn't think you'd know the difference."

Ignis counted three slow breaths, a city block, determined to focus on the road and not the hot feeling at his temples. Appallingly, it was a sense of embarrassment, something he hadn't had to endure for quite some time when he'd learned to control so much.

"Suffice it to say your proclivities have no bearing, except insofar as casual play partners you've picked up in a public club may accordingly have a taste for public spectacle."

"It's not like I knew he was going to be a weirdo."

"And your lack of forethought regarding security is precisely the problem."

"You can't blame me because museum security was jacked," Prompto said, as whiny and petulant as usual again, thank heavens for small favors.

"Operational security," Ignis said. "Which means not giving the details of your itinerary and location—and by extension the crown prince's itinerary and location—to any puppy-faced paramour who asks. The prince and his companion being accosted in an open street wouldn't have looked any better in the tabloids, only given the paparazzi better lighting. If you're to remain close with Noct, if you're to be part of his Crownsguard, your personal matters must remain personal. And discreet."

Prompto let things rest at that, and the car was quiet until they pulled up to the low building Prompto lived in.

Though it had caused Ignis some worry over the years, for once he was grateful Prompto's parents wouldn't require an explanation for his late arrival even if he had still been of an age where it ought to matter. They would likely never know the incident occurred, which suited Ignis just as well.

The sooner put behind them the better.
From: (Anonymous)
Omg yay! I love that Ignis finds out because one of Prompto’s play partners has a crush and also that Prompto topped. And poor Ignis feels so much obligation to be buttoned up all the time, I love the tensions you’re drawing here.

/maybe OP? Bad memories are terrible.
From: (Anonymous)
Whether you are the OP or not, thank you for the comment!
From: (Anonymous)
Damn, nonnie, this is fantastic. I love how sure Ignis is in his daily life, keeping his cool in potentially dangerous and complex scenarios, compared to how unsure and cautious he is about the kink scene. Can't wait for more!!
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you! Ignis is great in a crisis, but he's got a lot to learn elsewhere right now.
From: (Anonymous)
Nice... go Prompto! ;)
From: (Anonymous)
Prompto only ever does his best!
From: (Anonymous)
"So," Prompto said, "who do you play with if you're not, you know, out in the scene?"

Ignis had been walking the halls of the Citadel when Prompto ambushed him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know, discreet and all that, but if going to the club is that big a deal then I want to find other ways."

Ignis strode on. "I certainly can't help you."

"But how do you find people?"

"I don't."

"But—"

"Prompto, your persistence is typically one of your more admirable qualities. Don't ruin that."

In the corner of his vision Prompto bounced in some peculiar sideways hopping to continue facing Ignis while he kept pace.

"What about when you were driving me home from the museum? You knew stuff people don't know unless they have a reason, you know what I'm saying? And I know you. You can't know just a little bit about something. You either don't know anything at all and keep it that way, or you know everything. So if you know what you knew then, then you probably know a lot more."

"Your inability to listen, however, is not." Whatever guilt Ignis might have felt for wanting to deny Prompto the same luxury he'd denied himself evaporated. Prompto's disarming, dizzying turns of conversation were more effective at riling him than most other things at the best of times. Now, facile enough to dissect Ignis so easily and thoughtless enough to have no care for what he'd exposed. . . a little pettiness was nothing beside that.

"Come on, Iggy, I'm trying to do the right thing here. I don't want to cause trouble for Noct."

Ignis came to a dead stop in the middle of the hall and turned to face Prompto. Clenched tight against him the edge of his clipboard dug a sharp line into his ribs, into his palm even through his glove. "Unlike you, Prompto, the consequences of my actions have been impressed upon me since I was very young. As a result, whatever intimate interests I may have, exotic or otherwise, have been strictly academic. I cannot offer you any advice because I have no personal experience on which to draw."

"Oh." Understanding lit Prompto's face like the dawn breaking through clouds. "Oh! That's gotta be rough, dude."

"It is a choice I was willing to make. I hope now you understand how strongly I feel about my responsibilities." Ignis began walking again, and stopped as abruptly at the sound of Prompto scuttling after him.

"So I'd be safe then!"

Ignis turned this time with bewildered horror; the concept was too absurd to allow for real anger. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're worried you'll hook up with someone sketchy and get outed and cause a scandal, yeah? This way you wouldn't have to worry. I'd die before I let anything happen to Noct, you know that."

That, unfortunately, was a point Ignis couldn't argue. "Perhaps I didn't put enough stress on my entirely academic interest."

"No, no, I get it. Don't sweat it. I like helping newbies. It's kind of my thing. I'm a switch, so I'm pretty flexible there, and it's not like you'd ever really be into me, so it'll be easy to cut your losses, yeah?"

Ignis attempted to formulate a response: your offer is appreciated but unwise, you must be completely mad, I would eat broken glass before I accept your pity. All were valid options.

Before he could, Prompto threw his hands up in surrender as he said, "Listening, listening. I'll stop," and, with that disarming sincerity of his, "Look, I'm booked on the range in a few, so I've got to get going, just—think about it, okay? I think it could be really good."

Again before Ignis could reply, Prompto jogged off towards a side hall that headed towards the Crownsguard training facilities.

So much for putting it behind him.

Indeed, the next time he saw Prompto a few days later he nearly ran bodily into him as Prompto popped out of the top of a seldom-used stone staircase that led down to the old cellars.

"What in heaven's name?" Ignis said. "Were you in the basement?"

"Yeah, stair sprints." Prompto panted for breath with his hands on his hips. The usual carefully messy spikes of his hair were flattened and damp.

When he waved and turned Ignis saw his heathered grey Crownsguard-issue t-shirt had gone black down the back. He looked away before Prompto could descend. Though the tableau wasn't without its appeal, the physical exertion of fit young men was the sort of thing growing up in the shadow of the Citadel should have rendered Ignis immune to, and largely had.

Largely.

Much like Prompto had wormed his way into most aspects of Noct's life, his proposition had planted itself in Ignis' mind like a weed he couldn't uproot. No matter how many times he cut the thought off, it reappeared to punch a new hole through the bedrock of his life.

If it wasn't a t-shirt gone damp with sweat, it was a discomfiting spike of paranoia later in the hall that day when he ran into Deputy Minister Kellam: married with grandchildren, habit of run-on sentences in his memos, viciously conservative. Ignis had gone out of his way to avoid the man in his adolescence, when his days were filled with tutoring sessions and council meetings and his nights with restless dreams of violence indistinguishable from passion. When he was young enough, he'd been sure, to be swiftly replaced if his deviance was found unbecoming of a royal retainer. He'd been terrified that Kellam or someone like him might know at a glance that Ignis watched Crownsguard recruits sparring more than he ought, that under Ignis' carefully pressed trousers his thighs sometimes bore the marks of his own hands, moments of weakness when he was lost in the throes of pleasuring himself and had given himself the intensity he craved.

He hadn't given thought to it in years even on the rare occasions he and Kellam had interacted. Not since Ignis had grown sure of his place and had learned to see the man for what he was: a reliable cog in a machine large enough to compensate for his deficits, whose spite ensured he would never rise higher than a minor position in the bureaucracy. He held no power over Ignis, not at thirteen and certainly not ten years on.

The true embarrassment was that Ignis could still be distracted by a Crownsguard recruit out for a run after that same decade.

His trip to the market was infiltrated just the same. A text to Noct to see if he had any requests for food resulted in a fruitless, rambling string of messages that amounted to asking whether Ignis could please make extra, as Prompto would be staying the weekend.

Ignis stood between the canned vegetables and a sales display of Golden Curry packets, staring at his phone. If he were less poised he might have begged the device for a reprieve, or Noct through it, as though Ignis could appeal to him to halt Prompto's intrusions when Prompto had in fact done nothing at all. He was little more than an apparition who appeared at intervals to stir the dust from old fears and vanish into the labyrinth of the Citadel in a blur of black and blond. Or, it seemed, to hole up in Noct's apartment for a videogame release of supposed vital importance.

That evening Ignis cooked in Noct's apartment while listening to the cheers of them in front of the television, content at least that with the game to occupy him and Noct present Prompto was unlikely to cause any additional disruptions.

Which of course meant Prompto took the opportunity to come and lean his elbows on the counter opposite where Ignis worked while Noct was in the bathroom.

"So, that thing I asked you," he said, pulling at a string on his wristband. "Probably should've said something before now, might've gotten a little carried away. I haven't yet, and I wouldn't tell anyone else unless you said it was okay, but me and Noct tell each other, like, everything."

"He's your closest friend. Perfectly reasonable," Ignis said while fighting down the same flushed hot feeling as seeing Kellam in the halls. He'd done nothing to be embarrassed about.

"Not details," Prompto added quickly, "but where I was, who I was with. Even if I did try to promise I wouldn't tell him I know I'd slip, and I'm not lying to him about this. I'm just not. So in case him knowing would be a problem, now you know."

Once Ignis had worked his way through the fits and starts, he found himself pleased that Prompto had considered the ramifications, and his own limitations.

"Thank you."

Prompto's eyes went wide.

"For your consideration," Ignis explained.

Prompto looked down and said, "Oh. You're, uh. You're welcome," obviously more because it was a required nicety than because he felt his actions warranted gratitude.

Prompto thankfully did leave him after that, and went back to the game system without another word.

This time, the disruption was an unfortunate reminder of Prompto's better qualities. Ignis did believe Prompto was fundamentally decent, certainly not apt to cause trouble via malice or exploitation, only negligence. He was polite as a rule, if informal. Thoughtless in some respects but thoughtful in others. Devoted both to his parents and to Noct—in the case of his parents moreso than Ignis suspected they deserved, not that he would ever mention it to Prompto.

It was only logical that Noct would know if Prompto were involved with someone.

The question of what Ignis might tell Noct about his own assignations had never arisen before.

Ignis could admit if only to himself that absolute discretion hadn't been the only factor behind his celibacy. There had been offers in past years, Guards and Glaives, Citadel staff who would've been in much the same situation Ignis was and at more risk; his position was now utterly secure. Between his responsibilities, his natural reserve, and his more extreme interests, no temptation had been worth dragging himself out of his self-imposed exile. Not for lack of interest in sex in general, he'd been clear on that point. It was a simple fact that people whose company he truly enjoyed were few and far between, and in the particulars the effort of overcoming those obstacles had never been worth it.

Prompto had circumvented any real effort on his part, vetted in a way through his friendship with Noct. Over the years Ignis had learned his hobbies and habits, his foibles and annoyances, all but the most private facets that he had recently been made aware of. It was the last puzzle piece to give Ignis a rather complete picture of Prompto turning his sincerity and puppy-eagerness towards more intimate ends.

While he'd intended to leave something for the next day for Noct to handle himself, Ignis now threw himself into preparing food in the hopes of exhausting the jittery energy that had begun to stir under his skin. The idea of being alone with only his own thoughts for company was unbearable. Sinking into the slow, deep breathing that arose from a long practice of meditation didn't erase it, but it did provide some distance between himself and his distraction and allow it a place to exist without overwhelming him while he attended to his tasking. Having cooked an extra meal and packed servings for Noct's lunches, he bid Noct and Prompto an easy goodnight over Noct's assurances that he didn't have to leave.
From: (Anonymous)
I absolutely love the way you’re writing Ignis’ carefully repressed lust here.
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you! It should get a little less repressed soon. . .
From: (Anonymous)
His antsiness hadn't fared any better on his drive to the modest studio apartment he kept, modest being relative in a neighborhood like Noct's. It was little more than a place to lay his head outside the Citadel while affording him convenient access to Noct's building. Its sole extravagance was the kitchen, which had been fitted with an industrial range, an oven, and a plumbed in professional-grade espresso machine.

Ignis slipped his shoes off by the door and heaped his things on the single end table. He stripped to his undershirt and slacks then and there, throwing his coat and shirt over the arm of the small sofa. He only sometimes bothered to change into more appropriate clothing anyway. It was more wear and tear, but afforded the assurance that he could move and fight with equal comfort in his official attire as in his gym clothes. The austerity allowed ample room to pull down the folded blue tumbling mats that dominated the open wall, the mobile version of the heavy padded flooring in the Crownsguard training rooms. It was difficult to push himself as hard as he would sometimes prefer, but the mats still proved helpful for allowing him to relax and refocus physically without needing to return to the Citadel.

Slipping on the wrist wraps he kept in the desk drawer put him in mind of other ways of binding them, as it hadn't in years. Despite the flush of warmth at the thought it felt so much like being naked that even his own mind's eye refused to see him that way. It slid instead to the satisfaction of service, the home those desires had rested in since before he knew them for what they were. Short of driving himself to illness—and he'd sorted that when he was nineteen—training harder would never go amiss.

Both the limited space and consideration for his neighbors prevented any aerial maneuvers and the noise they would bring. He segued from simple stretching to handstands and walkovers to more complicated inversions, movements that required both physical exertion and mental focus. He laid in full splits until he ached, held an L-sit until his arms shook. When he was sweating enough his singlet stuck to his skin and his thighs trembled, Ignis collected his clothes, replaced the mats against the wall. Even physical exhaustion could only dispel so much. He had attended to every other potential need and distractor, and still heat throbbed.

In the shower he was tempted to crank the cold water, though it wouldn't help for long. His bed beckoned, and there would be no distraction there. He left his head under the spray as heat beat down around him, poured over his face. The phrases were worn like creased scraps of paper he'd repeated them so many times over the years: he'd done nothing wrong, and had no reason to be embarrassed.

The tile slashed a cold line on his forearm when he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as he took himself in hand. After a long evening of supressing the urge, the growing heat swept over him shockingly fast. He didn't insert himself into the image—not out of shame, it simply wasn't the way his libido tended to operate—and so it was Prompto in unknown hands that filled his senses, stitched together from different scenarios Ignis had seen him in: sweating and flushed from his run, moaning in pleasure as he might from Ignis' cooking.

It was the intangible moment of weightlessness before freefall, the hot throb as his skin grew tight.

He didn't need any other sensation or more intensity to push himself the way he sometimes did. He envisioned tears streaming down Prompto's face as they had after a film they'd all seen when he'd shamelessly sobbed along with the bereaved characters. The whine that sometimes set Ignis' teeth on edge emerged out of desperation to please his anonymous partners, much more gratifying than its usual cause. The phantom Prompto's climax was more than Ignis had imagination for, but it was enough to know he had the means to see it in person. It couldn't be wrong to entertain the fantasy of something that had been offered in reality.

The power of that choice thrilled through him and that more than anything was enough to push him over the edge, and then Ignis was sagging against the wall on unsteady legs in the aftermath, catching his breath while the spray washed away all evidence of his moment of weakness.

Mechanically, Ignis turned off the shower and toweled off, brushed his teeth; his usual routine. He didn't bother putting on even a pair of shorts before he slipped into bed. He was finally, truly exhausted.

Laying between the cool sheets, a balm on his shower-warmed skin, he considered his situation. With all possible distractions settled he could finally think objectively.

He again had no reason to be ashamed. Prompto's points concerning his regard for Noct were more than fair. As Ignis didn't hold any position of authority in the Crownsguard there should be no questions of impropriety. Their proximity through Noct easily explained their acquaintance should it become necessary; their other mutual interest had no reason to come into question.

With Prompto's offer filling his thoughts, Ignis slept.

#

Though one might expect the reverse, what had seemed perfectly clear in the middle of the night was much less so in the light of day, and the days that followed.

Ignis was ashamed that he hadn't fully considered the ramifications of accepting, so distracted was he by other facets of the proposition. In truth he hadn't entertained it as a real possibility, so he hadn't paid a whit of attention to the consequences, as Prompto had in considering what he would tell Noct.

The possibility of any public narrative was enough to give Ignis pause. Any intimate relationship, however casual, would always be a security risk. Certainly most people felt the risk was worth it. Life and families and children carried on in the highest echelons of the Citadel staff and always would, human nature and inheritance being what they were.

But for such a shallow, selfish dalliance, little more than a favor? Ignis could never justify it.

So he didn't. He didn't speak of it at all. Shockingly, neither did Prompto. In fact, Ignis made it through the week having scarcely seen him, no more than a few cheerful waves in the halls and once through the windshield of a Crownsguard car as Ignis picked Noct up from the arcade. He was even absent from Noct's apartment Friday evening.

"No Prompto this weekend?"

"Nah, he had, uh, plans tonight."

"Out entertaining Rhasa of the overbearing parents and car-alarm voice, or some other future security breach?"

Noct hesitated, then said, "Just out, I guess," and Ignis remembered his silence when they'd first asked Prompto about the club. No doubt he'd been sworn to secrecy over Prompto's social activity. "We're supposed to hang out tomorrow though if you want to come," Noct added more cheerfully, "maybe go see a movie."

"Oh, I don't think so," Ignis said. "I really ought to spend tomorrow catching up on my expense accounts." There was always work to catch up on, the perpetual excuse. He didn't relish the thought of facing Prompto again at the moment when he was only delaying the inevitable of properly rejecting his offer.

Ignis worked his way through dinner more from habit than desire as he and Noct chatted. Knowing Prompto was likely entertaining himself with another questionable partner had done no favors for his appetite. It might have been the saving grace of Prompto's proposal: kept busy through other means Prompto would have less time to scoop up novice clubgoers like stray pets in need of a good home.

The thought, at first only a moment of private humor, gave him pause.

What hypothetical pleasure it might have brought Ignis was irrelevant, not worth considering. Years of solitude had been perfectly manageable. Only a few weeks of knowing Prompto had been leaving himself and Noct so vulnerable had driven him to distraction. Quite the opposite of Prompto's intent to provide Ignis a means of exploration, if Ignis occupied enough of Prompto's attention he may rein in the single biggest influence in Noct's life outside the Citadel, and save himself from forever wondering if Prompto had spent his weekend coddling a new potential threat.

"You know," Ignis said, "on second thought I think I will join you tomorrow."

#

"Prompto, a moment of your time, please," Ignis said while they stood back from Gladio and Noct in line for concessions.

"What's up?"

"Not much just now," Ignis said, "but I'd hoped for a chance to speak with you before you go home this evening." Standing behind Gladio as he deliberated between a vat of popcorn larger than his head and one only half the size didn't afford the most privacy to discuss a very private matter.

Prompto's pink mouth wrapped around his straw as he sipped. "Yeah, that's totally cool."

"You want anything, Specs?" Noct said.

Ignis refused. Much like Prompto, who'd gotten only a soda, Ignis would be satisfied stealing a few handfuls of the others'.

He didn't pay much attention to the film, scintillating though Biohazard 7 might have been. Guards and Glaives and diplomats had been rebuffed, and he was about to agree to a proposition from someone who unironically used the phrase totally cool. The impulse to give Prompto a polite refusal and wash his hands of the whole thing lingered. He knew only that Ignis wanted to speak with him, it wasn't too late.

He'd endured worse for Noct's sake.

As the screen went black and the credits began to scroll, Prompto tapped his arm and nodded his head toward the exit.

"The credits!" Noct said.

"I know, buddy, but I've got to pee like a racehorse and if I wait there's gonna be a massive line," Prompto said, very convincingly when Ignis knew he was usually as much of a completist as Noct was when it came to movie viewing.

"Suit yourself," Noct said, and pointedly settled into his seat. Gladio had stayed quiet through the exchange, and Ignis avoided catching his eye as he stood to follow Prompto out.

As they walked Prompto drummed his hands on his thighs. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I presume you haven't forgotten the proposal you made a few weeks ago."

"You could say that," Prompto laughed.

"I was hoping we could establish a time to discuss what that might entail in private."

Prompto laughed again, like he was waiting for Ignis to get in on the joke. They took the ramp up in silence. His hands went still. "Seriously?" He came to a stop in front of the doors as people started to filter out of the theatre.

"If the offer's no longer good—"

"No, no the offer's good, the offer's great," Prompto said with disproportionate enthusiasm. He'd gone very still, a stone in the river of moviegoers that had begun to flow around them. "So do you want to—"

"Have a discussion better held in private in private?" Ignis said as he pulled him by the arm towards the side of the hall. "Yes. I only wanted to inform of you of my decision."

"Right, sorry. I can text later to figure out when to meet up if you want?"

Ignis had considered offering Prompto another ride, though going out of his way to drop Noct off and then doubling back would likely be too conspicuous to avoid an explanation. Simply arranging a time and place wouldn't incriminate him in anything but meeting Prompto, and he had resigned himself to Noct and most likely Gladio becoming privy to at least that much.

Still, Ignis was not above delaying the inevitable.

"Yes," he said. "That will be fine."
From: (Anonymous)
>-> nice choice iggy. he's gonna rock your world
From: (Anonymous)
...Ignis, I want to keep Noct’s BFF from banging a wide assortment of potential security risks is a terrible reason to lose your virginity. Bang him because he’s bangable!
From: (Anonymous)
It is a terrible reason, and Prompto is very bangable. Needless to say the reason Ignis is doing is not entirely the reason Ignis is telling himself he's doing it.
From: (Anonymous)
After a few texts they agreed Prompto coming to Ignis' apartment was the best option. While it wasn't the most welcoming of places to entertain a visitor, the Citadel was out of the question and Prompto had even less space to call his own, only the childhood bedroom of his parents' home.

Ignis had allotted extra time for debate with Noct on the appointed day, but Noct had scarcely batted an eye when Ignis informed him he would be unavailable for the night, which was nigh unheard of. Prompto must have already given Noct the particulars of his own evening, as he said he would.

As a result Ignis found himself at his desk that evening attempting not to clockwatch while he read through a briefing on recent Niflheim activity in Duscae.

It wouldn't do to get ahead of himself. He was largely ignorant of Prompto's practical experience, and despite Prompto's claims he was wary of asking too much. It had crossed his mind that Prompto may not be as adventurous as his patronage of The Silver Circle implied, but the real goal was in keeping Prompto occupied and not in gratifying himself, so it was of no real consequence.

He'd settled on an objective and a course of action, and now all that was left was to follow through. He might even take the opportunity for an additional learning experience: improvisation was no less vital a skill than thorough planning.

It was something of a relief when the intercom finally buzzed. He ushered Prompto in with a perfunctory, "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Prompto left his shoes neatly by the door. The backpack he carried he laid against the side of the sofa, which he sat on. He opened his hands, looking up at Ignis.

"So," he said. "How's it going?"

"Well enough," Ignis said. His meager furnishings didn't afford many seating options: the breakfast bar and the desk in the far corner were too distant, the bed too suggestive. He sat on the sofa beside Prompto. Even that seemed forward under the circumstances, the same sense of exposure as his teenage fear at having the marks on his body identified. A foolish thought given what he'd agreed to and who he sat beside. "And yourself?"

Prompto easily launched into a much more thorough answer than Ignis had given.

Small talk was a comfortable fallback while Ignis found himself mentally casting through his conversational experience for anything applicable: negotiations, diplomacy, a casual chat. What was the appropriate mode of communication for accepting such an offer?

At least around Prompto he needn't worry about filling any awkward silences. Prompto expounded on his training, his parents' most recent trip, the catastrophe he'd witnessed that day, "so the whole place had to close down all afternoon so they could squeegee out all the soup," he was saying. "Made for some great shots. You know, I didn't think you'd say yes in like a million years."

The balloon of tension that had been around Ignis all evening popped as if Prompto had jabbed him with a pin.

"I—" he started as if he could defend himself. He laughed almost before he'd realized it had happened. "I would never accuse you of subtlety, Prompto, but that was. . ."

Prompto's mouth smiled and shrugged. "If you're serious about it you should probably get used to it, buddy. Stuff's gonna get way weirder than that."

"I wouldn't expect any differently from you." Ignis had played bystander to enough of Prompto's antics to believe that, a stark reminder that he and Prompto were friends, if ones in an unfamiliar situation. "In regards to your statement, neither did I," he said wryly. More intimate than a casual chat then—moreso than he had ever been until now, save perhaps Noct and Gladio. How quickly that would change. "After giving it a great deal of thought I believe the benefits outweigh the potential deficits. I thought we might discuss the parameters of what you're offering in more detail."

"Yeah, sure," Prompto said, nodding eagerly. "I'm guessing you've done some pretty thorough research, 'cause I know you, so you probably know that talking things out is sort of the norm for kink stuff, which I really like, personally, especially when I'm topping. Way less chance of getting something wrong when I know I can just ask. So anything you can think of that you want to know or do, go for it. Believe me, I've said something stupider in your shoes." Prompto lifted his hands in innocence. "Sorry! Sorry. Shouldn't assume you want to top."

Ignis looked down. "Perhaps not exclusively," he said after a moment of hesitation, even though the thought of bending that way was untenable, "but a safe model to operate under for now." With the option of reversing roles left open Prompto might be more patient in not pursuing other avenues. It felt like a tremendous admission even with no chance of acting on it.

"Sweet. So: do you have a checklist, do you want to? You seem like a checklist kind of guy."

"Hypothetically," Ignis allowed. "For the moment, it seems. . .ambitious."

Prompto didn't quite hide his surprise, though he likely thought he had. "Gotcha, gotcha. Yeah, they can be a little overwhelming."

Overwhelmed was not how Ignis would describe his reaction. When he'd discovered the lists of activities and items used to gauge someone's interests he'd lost hours to poring over the most exhaustive lists he could find. They were a fascinating and thorough catalogue. He couldn't rightfully expect Prompto to share that level of detail without reciprocation, and the thought of enumerating every aspect of his own interests wasn't nearly so appealing.

"Anyway," Prompto said, "it's basically what we make it. I've got a pretty good mix of toys, so even if you're not looking to do anything sexy there's still plenty of stuff you can try out."

The pocket of Prompto's jeans had a pale half-moon worn in, presumably victim to how often a lenscap had been jammed into it. Ignis didn't look away from it.

"And if I am?"

"Then that is awesome and I've got stuff for that too. Don't know exactly what you're up for. I've got condoms, gloves, all of that. Whatever makes you comfortable to use is totally fine. I don't use stuff for oral usually unless someone else wants to, so I've got test results if you want to see them. So. Want to make out and see what happens?"

"Without another word of discussion?" Ignis said as he glanced up, galvanized by familiar irritation. "I'm surprised nothing worse has happened to you than that Amari boy's idiocy if you trust your potential partners so blindly as that."

Prompto had the gall to roll his eyes. "And if I'd just met you there would be plenty. We're not exactly starting from scratch. I figure for now we can play around, see where it goes, see if it's gonna be okay. See if it's gonna be super weird and tomorrow you can pretend it never happened." Prompto leaned into the silence for a moment. "That was supposed to be funny. Okay, tough crowd. Anyway, you're a total boyscout. You'd definitely do some pretty sketchy stuff to help Noct, but except that? You're way too smart to do something stupid or something you don't have the skills for. Ask anything you want to know, stop anything you need to stop. Everything else we can work out as we go."

"And will you require aftercare or anything of that sort?"

"For me? Nah, not gonna be a problem any time soon," Prompto said easily. "We can get into that later if we ramp up." He nudged closer so the heat of his leg pressed against Ignis' thigh. "Is that okay? Some kissing right now and see how it goes?"

Ignis was the less vulnerable of them, by the roles they were choosing to play and by training—even his concern over Prompto's recklessness was for Prompto—but in a quicksilver moment Prompto's gentle confidence had made his experience a maddening cipher, an imbalance between them that was not in Ignis' favor. It gave him the distinct impression he was being handled with kid gloves. The perceived necessity rankled.

Ignis opened his hands in permission. "If you're content to act and not talk, I doubt I'll be the one to pay the price."

Prompto kissed him. Nothing mindblowing, a simple soft press of skin. Pleasant enough.

"Congrats, you're a natural!" he said cheerfully.

"Hardly high-level material," Ignis said, droll. "And even my self-control only extends so far. I have done that much."

Prompto's frown was obvious even in the shadows that had begun to lengthen. Ignis had misstepped, though he couldn't say why.

"I know you had your duty and stuff to worry about, but you get that there's nothing wrong with liking sex, right?"

Ignis leaned in again. It was the most efficient way to prevent him from talking.

Another soft press, testing, then Prompto's mouth went lush, a softness that made it easy for Ignis to open under him. His mouth almost throbbed, a touch that melted in and out of firmness as they tasted each other in careful dips and flicks.

Turned away from the kitchen's overhead light Prompto was little more than a silhouette when he pulled away, unreadable. "Wow. That's, uh. Congrats, you're a natural."

Ignis shrugged. "As I said."

It was not a lie. It was not the first time he'd kissed someone.

The first of any consequence, yes.

The first, perhaps, that was more than a transgression.

The opposite in every way from the crushing, awkward moments many years before, when Ignis had found himself in the dark corner of a balcony with the son of an attaché from Accordo, and then been found by the attaché herself. He'd then quickly found that while the Insomnian diplomatic corp might look the other way from anything that didn't interfere with politics, their counterparts from the outer reaches weren't as forgiving. It wasn't a mistake he made twice.
From: (Anonymous)
Aw, I love their dynamic here, and Ignis’ hyperawareness of both their vulnerabilities. Poor Iggy.
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you! If Ignis is anything it is very aware of his (apparent) weak points, but hey, now he's got Prompto to help him learn to chill out. :)
From: (Anonymous)
Ignis is holding together pretty good but he seems terrified D:

<3 this is so, so good. I love how Prompto is at ease and the one with answers while still letting Ignis be more dominant.
From: (Anonymous)
Thank you! Ignis might be a little out of his depth, but he's a determined guy, and now he has Prompto to help him pull through.
From: (Anonymous)
Prompto turned in his seat, pulling one leg onto the sofa so he could lean in more comfortably. He pressed a palm to Ignis' cheek as he kissed him again. The lulls became a space Ignis didn't know how to fill. Prompto's shin was pressed against the length of his thigh, but Ignis' fist stayed clenched on his own knee, unable to breach the same gap Prompto had. Prompto's hand slid to his neck, calluses scraping over Ignis' jaw.

Ignis was tugged by a gentle hand at his nape as Prompto slouched back against the arm of the sofa and drew his leg up to give Ignis room to kneel between them.

"Have at it, dude. You won't hurt me by accident and I'll stop you if I need to."

Prompto's artless honesty left him little room for fear in the heat of their bodies and the skid of denim. He guided Ignis down, hands drifting to his shoulders as Ignis planted his hands on either side of his stomach. Pressed so close the dimness was no obstacle: Prompto's easy smile nearly glowed.

"You're not going to squish me, either."

"I'll have to take your word on that."

"Hey, I'm tougher than I look!"

Ignis lowered himself to kiss the crooked smile. "Not exactly a difficult prospect."

Prompto didn't falter. "Oh, I see how it is. Y'know—mm—some people are into that kind of thing."

"Some people are attracted to women, too. I don't intend to take it as personal instruction."

Prompto threw his head back laughing. Ignis couldn't rely on Prompto's encouragement forever: he took the chance to kiss over his Adam's apple while his throat was exposed. The skin was rougher, saltier, and Prompto's laughter dipped into something lower and needier as he arched even farther.

Ignis breathed against his neck. There was something in the scent, fresh sweat and a subtle woodsy hint of some product he couldn't name, nothing like his memories of a cocksure teenage boy who'd bathed so heavily in cologne that no quality could have overridden the quantity. The stubble that scraped his cheek was invisible at a distance, previously notable only when Gladio teased Prompto for lacking it. If Ignis had had an opportunity like this in his younger days he would have easily laid to rest every moment of doubting whether he was attracted to men or merely surrounded by them and drawn to the familiar. So long denying himself and in the thick of things it shocked him how easy it was to give in to the familiar heat of arousal instead of trying to manage it.

"Since you're down there," Prompto said. "If you care, biting's good, but not real pinchy."

"You'll have to explain that."

"Here, I can—" Prompto wriggled to hold Ignis' arm in his hands, dragging Ignis away from his exploration to bring the tender underside of Ignis' wrist to his mouth.

"See, you can do it light," Prompto said, and he drew his teeth across Ignis' skin above the hem of his glove, only a gentle tug. "Or pinchy." He nipped just a small line of skin between his incisors, a sharp sting even though he wasn't using much force. "And then you can do," and then Prompto took in a full mouth of Ignis' flesh. His expression was amused over Ignis' arm while he dug in. To call it biting seemed only technically correct. That brought to mind a sudden attack, something savage, not Prompto's teeth working Ignis' arm in an ache that ground deep into the muscle.

Ignis had hurt worse, certainly, even at his own hands, but Prompto released him and it was like a flood of pleasure flowed in to take the place of the fading ache, a dizzying rush now that his attention wasn't occupied. He sagged into the hand he was leaning on and turned his wrist up to look at the pink dents Prompto had left. He had to swallow so his mouth wasn't too dry to speak.

"And the last is preferable?" It certainly had been for him, though he could see the use of the other varieties.

"Mostly."

"How hard is acceptable?" Ignis bent to lightly scrape Prompto's neck, kisses with only a hint of teeth.

"I'll, uh, I'll let you know?"

Ignis tugged a bit. Prompto's breath rasped in his ear.

His shirt pulled tight across his back from Prompto's fists clenching in it, but there was no fear in him as Ignis sank his teeth into Prompto's shoulder. Imagining Prompto at someone else's hands had been a terrible approximation. The sounds were mere shadows of feeling his low groan vibrate against Ignis' chest. The immediate feedback was electric. He kneaded the taut cords of muscle with his teeth and Prompto's moans wound higher like an engine revving. Primal heat surrounded him, trembled under him, and then finally the frantic tapping of Prompto's fingers against his side.

Ignis carefully unclenched his jaw. When he lifted his head Prompto was panting. He drew his gloved fingers over the stark, red-ringed outline he'd left.

"You must bruise like a peach," Ignis said, caught somewhere between awe and guilt. It was shortsighted for him not to consider it before.

Prompto wriggled his shirt overhead to fling it back over the arm of the sofa. "There. Anyone who's looking under here gets what they see."

All attempts at working to keep him from the grasp of unworthy partners were forgotten. Ignis' only thoughts for having him were selfish. He ran a hand up Prompto's bare ribs. Two together would've spanned the whole of his rib cage. "I assume the same principles apply to hands?"

"Little more to it than that, but it works for now."

"Anything else I ought to know?"

Prompto's chuckle was still a little breathless. "You probably know more about how it's safe to hurt someone than I do."

"The question applies to more than hurting," Ignis said, a fingertip brushing lightly over Prompto's nipple.

"Whatever—ah!—whatever you want to try's good with me. Don't stick your finger up my nose or spit on me or something without asking and you're all good. Just do something."

"Is this not?" Ignis was the picture of innocence while his thumb swept back and forth.

"Not enough," Prompto complained, threaded with desperation so enticing Ignis could never call it a whine.

Ignis squeezed. "Better?"

Prompto bit his lip as they both watched his nipple harden under Ignis' touch. "Getting warmer."

"Ah. Is it warmth you want?" Ignis bent, and took a moment simply to know the feel of new skin against his lips, under his tongue as he kissed at the dip between Prompto's pecs.

He acquainted himself with Prompto's other nipple in patient cat licks, savoring the feel of it crinkling into hardness under his tongue. Ignis was fascinated to think of the blood rushing through Prompto to show off his pleasure, that his body responded so easily to Ignis' touch. When Prompto was rocking under him, making small breathy pleas of come on, Iggy, and pounding in frustration at the sofa, Ignis sank his teeth in there too.

Prompto's moan was high, sharp.

"Too much?"

"Just a lot," Prompto said with a shake of his head.

It was too hard to see Prompto's face and bite at the same. Ignis stretched up to kiss him, squeezed a handful just above Prompto's hip bone. "And this?"

Prompto's eyelashes fluttered and his mouth worked, plush and pink, wordless until he finally gave up on the notion altogether and only laughed. Ignis twisted until the laughter stopped, choked off.

Then he did it again.

They kissed wetly as Ignis worked his hand in the soft flesh of Prompto's side over and over. Like the penetrating bite Prompto preferred Ignis sank his fingers deep: Prompto's skin was only a barrier to impacting the muscle below.

Prompto panted, laughed, moaned into Ignis' open mouth. Heat pooled between them, the friction of moving against each other and the drag of fabric, Ignis rutting against him when it wasn't enough. Prompto rolled up to meet him, hands digging into Ignis' hips. The heat wasn't Ignis alone, and pressed against him was—heavens—Ignis slid his hand down between them, brushed over the bulge and Prompto's breath came in a hiss. It was obvious even through denim, through leather gloves, that Prompto was hard in his jeans because of Ignis hurting him.

Prompto scrambled for his fly, shoving them down as the far as they'd go around his thighs.

"Should we—" Ignis looked toward his bed.

"I'm good here if you are."

"Be a bit messy, won't it?" Ignis said.

"Come all over me, it's okay."

"You might warn me if you're going to say something like that."

"You want me to warn you for dirty talk?" Prompto laughed. "Hey, Iggy, heads up. If your hand's on my dick stuff could get sexy at any time."

"Ugh, just a moment," Ignis said, striding off to the nightstand to fetch the one thing he did have, tugging the strap of one glove with his teeth on his way. They'd kissed for so long evening had folded up around them so he had to turn on the bedside lamp to see in the drawer. He tucked the bottle he found under his arm so he could remove his other glove, and crawled back into the inviting space between Prompto's thighs. Heaven help Ignis' sofa but there was nothing for it. A steam cleaner, maybe.

Gilded in lamplight Prompto's pink flushed cheeks and acres of skin were an invitation of their own.
From: (Anonymous)
Oh my god this is perfect.
From: (Anonymous)
Holidays and flu season and food poisoning, oh my. I'd been hoping to keep up with an update a week but that's probably going to stay a little dicey until at least the new year.
________

"Nice stuff. So do you only use it for this or for, uh, other stuff too?"

Ignis paused. Their arrangement would likely cause many words to cross his lips for the first time, and if he couldn't say them he shouldn't have been laying on a shirtless man holding a bottle of lube. "If you're trying to ask if I've ever fingered myself, the answer is yes." It was more than worth Prompto's expression.

"If you want more than fingers sometime we can definitely do that. I'm really good at it." Prompto said it as matter of factly as he had everything else, and so Ignis was tempted to believe him. Without a gun or a camera in his hand Prompto was inclined to err on the side of too little confidence more than too much.

"And yourself?"

Prompto went wide-eyed. "We can try it!"

"Have you ever?" Ignis said, suspicious.

"Oh, yeah. Been a while, that's all."

It was like hearing a tinny recording of Prompto's usual enthusiasm. He wouldn't flat-out lie; it was something else hitting a sour note in his voice. His chest moved slow and even under Ignis, like prey who'd just come face to face with a threat and thought it safer not to make any sudden moves. He'd been less scared with teeth around his carotid.

"You don't actually like it, do you?"

"It's not a big deal. I know it usually comes with the territory, so if you want to we definitely can."

"That won't be necessary," Ignis said as he leaned in.

"Mm. You're sure? It wasn't like I hated it. I'm sure it would be better with you anyway."

"You're already accommodating me beyond all reason," Ignis said against Prompto's jaw. "I won't repay you by taking advantage of your generosity."

"Oh good," Prompto breathed as he rebounded. "I'm not really a 'rail me on the first date' kind of guy and I've been too busy with training and work for a while for anything else, so it's just—really been a while. And sort of, been there, done that, more trouble than it's worth. This, uh, this back door is locked from the inside these days. Exit only."

With the power of knowledge back where it belonged it was as though Ignis' feet were on solid ground after he'd had them swept from under him. It was easy to occupy himself with Prompto's throat while he let Prompto dispel his nerves; he was feeling very magnanimous.

"You've obviously stopped doing other things," Ignis murmured against his Adam's apple. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"When I'm bottoming? Ha. Only when someone makes me. You can do that if you want, too, sometime. Make me."

"I'll keep it in mind," Ignis said, and slid his hand over the front of Prompto's underwear again. "I thought I might make you do something else at the moment."

"You too, right?" Prompto said, oddly fearful again, though not enough to dissuade him too much judging by the firm outline against Ignis' palm.

"Unless you know of some reason I shouldn't?"

"Just checking," Prompto said, placating, like Ignis was the one who'd hesitated. "Always good to be sure of these things."

Prompto was even hotter, harder with only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs between them. Ignis brushed his bare fingertips over the trail of hair between Prompto's navel and groin for the first time while he watched Prompto ruck up Ignis' shirt only to fumble with the hook and eye of his trousers. Their hands jumbled as Ignis went to help, both of them laughing at the pile-up and settling for managing their own.

Prompto went digging for the lube beside his hip where Ignis had left it. "Hey, hey, here," he said, and flipped the cap open with his teeth. "Hey, Iggy," he said, grinning up at Ignis through cornsilk lashes as he drizzled lube over Ignis' palm. He folded his hand over Ignis' to wrap it around—oh, heavens, around both of them together. "Just so you know, if our dicks are touching things could definitely get sexy."

Ignis forgave himself for allowing Prompto the last word.

With Prompto's encouragement he gave a slow twist to smear the slickness around and between them, shuddering at the feel of it. The heat of Prompto through his underwear was nothing compared to feeling it bare in his hand, sliding thick and hard against his own. It took a few fits and starts of friction before they smoothed into a rhythm of the two of them thrusting against Ignis' hand and each other, fucking.

Prompto shoved one hand down the back of Ignis' trousers to pull him in tighter, pressing the back of the other to his own mouth. Ignis knew it wouldn't take long, couldn't imagine how it could have after so much wanting, but it was Prompto who came first, spurting across Ignis' palm and over his own chest.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Prompto panted, even as he jerked, spent, in Ignis' hand. His sounds went muffled, as though he was biting his own hand to stifle them.

Ignis tightened his grip and pumped his hips into the slick clench of his hand and Prompto against him. Prompto tossed his head, abandoned staying quiet to claw tight into the cushion beside him as his thighs clamped around Ignis' hips. The overstimulation must have been unbearable, but Ignis wouldn't have stopped himself even if he could have. Prompto's face was creased with something too complicated to be pure pleasure: the tremor of working to exhaustion, the ecstasy of a martyr. He writhed as though he never wanted to stop. Ignis never wanted to stop watching.

It couldn't last. Even then the tension was building inexorably from the perfect glide, Ignis in complete control, this brief, shining moment when he could be thoroughly, gloriously selfish.

Ignis watched Prompto suffer and came all over him.

In increments: Ignis pushed himself up on his shaking arm, sat back on his heels, shifted a leg under him. They were shaking too. He was still catching his breath when Prompto swallowed hard and patted his knee, unfairly clear-eyed.

"Like I said. You're a natural." Prompto groped blindly down against the sofa for his bag. Ignis heard the sound of a zipper. A pack of disposable wet wipes materialized in Prompto's hand. "Can't fix me, but I can fix this. All the boys and girls love a well-stocked toybag," he said as handed one over. Ignis took it out of engrained politeness. Prompto looked down at himself again. While Ignis had escaped unscathed, he was a mess of streaks and puddles up to his collarbones. "I'm. . .gonna take more than a wet wipe. Any chance you have something I can clean up with?"

In Ignis' opinion nothing needed fixing at all, but demanding Prompto stay would've been a betrayal of himself.

"Flannels in the closet," he admitted. He focused on quickly wiping down—at least his body was in no position to betray him as quickly as his thoughts had. He'd scarcely finished zipping his trousers before Prompto had whisked away the cloth in his hand.

Prompto kissed him on the cheek, tugged the pleats of his trousers smooth, and finished with a friendly little pat over the placket as he slipped off the sofa.

Listening to his socked feet pat down the hall, Ignis sagged with the lassitude of what was, if he were honest, the best orgasm he'd had in months. Longer. His fitful experimentation had petered out years before. Since then he'd retracted his focus to his work, his service. Fulfilling his needs in the most perfunctory way possible.

All of it, unraveled.

Ignis didn't look up from scrutinizing the very faint teethmarks in his wrist when Prompto returned.

Instead of sitting beside him Prompto folded cross-legged to the floor in his line of sight. "You okay, dude?"

Though he'd hiked them up as he strolled away Prompto had left his jeans unfastened. The soft swell beneath his navel taunted Ignis with the scattering of fine, light hairs—clean and dry, no evidence.

"I'm perfectly fine, Prompto."

"I don't want to leave you hanging, but I also don't want to, like, step on your me-time, so just let me know if you want me to leave."

"No," Ignis said, surprised at his own vehemence. "No, that's not necessary in the slightest."

Prompto had drawn his knees up, hands clasped loosely around them, and was toying with his wristband. "So it was okay?"

"It was—" Ignis found himself reduced to brutal honesty, robbed of his usual restraint by the arc of his own teeth in Prompto's pale shoulder, the reddened starbursts of pinchmarks down his side, "—a revelation."

"Well, whatever you want to try, I'm there," Prompto said. "Mostly."

Ignis looked at him archly.

"Don't worry about it. Nothing you're probably going to get into without some fancy gear, and like I said, if it's real new or weird, just ask first. And no needles." Prompto was rubbing the inside of his wrists along his knees nervously. "But there's still lots to do. Lots to try."

"Quite," Ignis said, and impulsively pulled Prompto in to kiss him. Prompto made a sweet noise of surprise as he rolled up to his knees, planting his hands on Ignis' thighs.

"There's lots of time too," Prompto said as he pulled away. "No reason to rush into stuff. Not saying you need to stop. Just—there's only one first time for everything, right? You've got to remember the moments when you have them, not just race to the next one." For a moment Ignis could see the glimmer of him on the other side of things as well, walking some doe-eyed naif through their own myriad of first times, as he had with Ignis' wrist in his mouth.

"Let's stick to territory we've covered previously then, shall we?" Ignis said, then caught Prompto by the ribs to push him to the floor and follow him down.

There was wisdom in what Prompto said. Every act should be explored and catalogued as thoroughly as possible, not hamfistedly rushed through. He'd demonstrated an array of sensations with his teeth in only a few moments. With the urgency leached out of them even kissing became an end in itself, immeasurable refinements and gradations.

Ignis wouldn't leap into preparing a six-course meal when he'd barely handled a knife, and just as in cooking or driving or any other discipline a solid grounding in basic techniques would provide the necessary foundation for real mastery of the skill.

He always had been a determined pupil.

By the time Ignis walked Prompto out to the waiting car that night—as late as he'd kept him paying for a taxi was the least he could do—he'd easily agreed to Prompto's proposal of a second meeting. As long as Prompto was satisfied enough to continue his reasoning held. He was particularly pleased that Prompto had suggested the following Friday evening; another weekend with Ignis was another weekend he wouldn't be at The Silver Circle.
From: (Anonymous)
Yay! I’m so thrilled to see this again! I love the way you wrote Prompto’s own insecurities, both because it’s nice to have both their insecurities in play and because I totally want more BDSM where the dom gets penetrated. And I love overstimulation and that was great.

And man, Prompto is a lucky, lucky man to be exploring kink with Ignis.

Profile

Final_Fantasy_Kink_Meme

February 2020

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9 101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 27th, 2025 05:41 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios