lusi | MINGLE 001

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MINGLE 001

MINGLE 001: FOOD, FUN, FUCKING

Guests are 'gently encouraged' by enforcer robots to gather into what appears to be a central gathering place in the middle of the settlement area. Attendance is quite mandatory. Once everyone has gathered, holographic emitters kick on and display... static. Loudspeakers tell the captive audience to prepare for an important announcement, and moments later a proper but mechanical voice chimes in:

Greetings, organisms! R̷e̶j̸o̴i̴c̷e̸, for the portents foresee a time of glorious providence! We have recorded your actions a̵n̸d̵ ̴o̸u̶r̵ ̵c̶a̵p̸a̷b̷i̴l̸i̷t̵i̶e̸s̶ ̴have upgraded accordingly! The fabricator general automata grant you a boon, and shall provide much glamorous f̷i̶x̴t̶u̶r̶e̴s̷ ̴to aid in your future acts. Frolic and make merrily, all!

To honor your contributions and celebrate your arrival, you will be invited to attend our first sultry salacious soiree. Join your fellow chosen and f̵u̶l̵f̴i̵l̸l̵ ̵y̸o̷u̶r̷ ̷f̸u̴n̴c̷t̷i̶o̶n̶!

And with that, the display ends and characters are allowed to go as they please.

Upon returning, characters now find that dormant manufacturing robots have been reactivated, and will accept requests to build certain household fixtures, i.e., bedding, couches, loveseats. Because who wants to bang on a dusty cot, right? The quality will not be high. Imagine low-end IKEA. Build quality also varies dramatically and seems to depend on how old and corrupted the machine is. (As with all things in this world, quality is improved with intimate acts.)

But what is this celebration you've been invited to? That much is simple as sin. It's a mechanically sponsored party. Of particular note to hungry newcomers will be a fully stocked banquet ample spirits and naturally, a dedicated area for an all-out orgy. It's a good old-fashioned party, Roman style!

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These are no hospital rations. This is a full-fledged feast. It's no less dangerous, though.
Naturally, the robots have seen fit to add a little bit "extra." Some offerings are entirely innocuous, while others have bevy of effects that you'll soon discover.

You may find yourself only able to speak the truth, or maybe after one bite you find yourself instantly smitten with the next person you see. Some foods incite obedience, others rebellion. And some... well, you can't have an orgy without some good, old-fashioned aphrodisiac.

The music has been modulated to change the way you think. Of course it's electro-synth, what else would robots play?

Slower music induces sleep; maybe you fall into a cuddle-puddle with some of your fellow kidnappees. Faster music encourages you to dance. And some music? That's what upstairs is for.

Speaking of upstairs, what's an orgy without the orgy? You may find yourself auspiciously able to fill your decadent A5 squares. In a large room that seems unusually renovated, as if the robots had given it special attention just for this day, a floor covered in pillows awaits the beast with two backs. No one is turned away, and those attending will get a notification from their devices that they have received... additional credits? What could this mean?

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N A V I G A T I O N

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ As Shield to the Chosen King, Gladio has few opportunities to pursue relationships not currently orbiting Noctis and the gravitational pull of his destiny and royal responsibility. In those rare chances he does, he doesn't squander them. Free time is spent with family, or barring that, sating his other needs for companionship. Playing with friends, mingling with those who catch his eye... indulging his own vanity by putting himself out there and being seen. Not at the disgrace of his family or the line of Regis, but Gladio doesn't mind the thump of energetic beat, enjoys the kind of workout it provides while he lets himself get pulled along with the music. Turning one way or another leads him face to face with someone, they may dance a bit... flirting with their eyes at first, then their bodies... before they flit away to a new partner. As the aphrodisiac works it's way through the crowd, those touches sometimes turn a little more aggressive.

But then Gladio catches sight of a familiar blond and his smile broadens. He leans in to whisper that he's gotta go and shortly after he's reaching out to clap a hand on Prompto's back. And then he picks up the beat again and starts dancing. ]

Hey, nerd. Nice moves.

[ Gladio's style is more like he's trying to pump up those around him, occasionally flirting with his body, the aphrodisiac has worked it's way through him long enough to run a little hotter. He rides the very edge of friendly and sexy, and only sometimes is it aimed at Prompto... but to his credit he's not trying to Magic Mike it on the dance floor. He could, but c'mon -- he's not wasted. ]

Striking out with the ladies again?

[Prompto had been taking in the allure of lights and sounds, enjoying the heck out of himself and dancing with no specific end game in thought. as long as people were having fun and enjoying themselves, he felt good. he could soak up the energy in the room and subsist off of it for a little while, so when the first whisper in his ear came, to join someone somewhere else, probably upstairs, he politely declined. he wanted to live in the moment. he wanted to forget that his world was dying, forget all of his awkward hiccups, stop beating himself up for feelings of unrequitable puppy love, and just dance with anyone and everyone who would've had him.

Gladio's voice hits his ear and it's like glass shattering. the hulking figure in front of him, the familiar trace of tattoo lines, those beautifully crystalline brown eyes. it's Gladio. it's really him.

how?

what?

Prompto's body stops moving to the beat, the emotions welling in him strong enough to overcome the state of hypnosis the music had. it's the feeling of being in the front of the Regalia all over again, his arms draped over the side of the door as Ignis drives and Noctis sleeps... and Gladio, this beast of a man, reading away and pretending like he's not a nerd himself. fuck pretenses of banter, of getting teased from here to hell. Prompto wraps his arms around him, and pulls him for the tightest possible hug he could give. which, in retrospect, probably isn't that tight for the other at all.]

Gladio!!!

[ Gladio spins around to flash Prompto a wide smile, clearly enjoying some time to work off some of that agitation and lose himself to the simple enjoyment of partying with friends, old and new. It's at that moment Prompto throws his arms around him and Gladio's quick to catch -- it's not long before Gladio hauls the shorter man off his feet with an embrace to match his bear of a body, swinging him in a low twirl appropriate for a crowded dance floor as opposed to, say, Linking attacks.

He's not gonna let any bodies hit the floor, so relax! ]

Hah, miss me?

[ What a gratuitous display of strength, a sickeningly saccharine display of brotherly love. After an exhilarating expression of joyous reunion, Gladio sets him down and places his hands on his shoulders, feeling a trickle of sweat slide down the side of his face from exertion and the warmth of so many bodies moving to the beat. Amber eyes switch between Prompto's blue as he smiles fondly at him, grateful to see a friendly face. 'Miss me' is more like 'I missed you'. ]

C'mon. [ Gladio takes a step back and then aims a smack to Prompto's backside, you know, in case he's forgotten who he's dealing with. ] I'm roasting alive here. Let's grab a drink and cool off.

[and that's okay, he doesn't mind getting swept literally off his feet- not one bit, because he's just so unbearably relieved that Gladio is here, and he's safe, and he's crushing his ribs a little bit, okay, back on the ground he goes.

Gladio has the type of smile that incites mischief in those around him, and Prompto is so inevitably weak to it. the give and take in everything that they do keeps him centered, on his toes, and constantly stretching to try and impress him... or torment him, in any given situation. as for the blond himself, he's a powder keg of energy wrapped up in a pair of tight jeans, electricity running through his veins and all up his skinny neck, but right now, he looks equally worked out. hair drooping, body slightly glistening, it's easy to tell he's been riled up all night.

but that smack to the ass is like taking a 5 hour energy, as he covers the back of his pants to prevent a secondary tidal wave, laughing jovially and not taking it personally. he could never forget Gladio's friendship, or the roughness in roughhousing it takes to keep up with him.]

I knew I smelled a cooked ham. [cheeky smiles and a placating step forward/pat on the side of Gladio's shoulder, and he's right there with him. a drink right now sounds all sorts of good. luckily for them, there's an entire buffet table filled with stuff to imbibe.]

I looked for you and Iggy when I got here, I thought you guys were... [still back in a world of darkness, alone. he doesn't have to say it, he hopes- Gladio understands, right?]

Cooked ham? Just what are you implying?

[ Granted, he did help himself to a lot of animal protein at the banquet, Gladio cocks a thick brow at Prompto, giving him a playful push as he leads him away from the dance floor in search for refreshment. Thankfully, he knows just where to go... having eaten his fill earlier (and received a hefty dosing of aphrodisiac to boot). ]

Yeah? [ Gladio's mind goes in the same direction -- the world of darkness had only just started to shrink the days until every light in the sky had been blanketed by the scourge. ] ...Me too.

[ Honestly, it's a relief to see Prompto here, but he knows he can take care of himself. He knows they all can, now that their Noctis is on the path to performing his royal duty. Now they wait.

Sidling up to the table, Gladio feels like he already had enough to eat, but that amber-colored beverage looking so refreshingly cool in that frosted decanter? He's just going to lift that from the table, pinch a pair of drinking glasses between his fingers, saunter off towards somewhere quieter. By the time they reach the top of the stairs, Gladio's feeling parched and overheated, uncomfortably warm in even the scant clothes he typically wears. ]

Pour us some, I need to take a load off. [ Exhaling, he parks himself on a plush couch and leans back, head tipped back as he feels like he's literally steaming. Gladio's not usually the one to complain about extreme temperatures despite his proclivity towards being underdressed compared to the rest of Noctis' entourage... but maybe it was his first decent meal in days, maybe it was the dancing, maybe it was that burgeoning friskiness that he feels. ]

[that he's a haunch of meat, basically.

one of the hardest things that Prompto had to learn after Noctis laid dormant in the crystal world, or wherever it was that he slept peacefully to amass the power within, was how to be independent. it started the moment he was pushed off the train, when he was forced to wander through the tundra, and only amplified itself after the events in Gralea. nowadays, he could stand on his own. he could fight daemons without Gladio and Ignis' help. it was the least he could do, he swore it to himself after Ignis' injury. he would give everything he could of himself to make up for it.

but god, what he wouldn't give up to be back in that car, or surrounded by a campfire as a battle raged on between cup noodle or proper supper. to say that was the best part of his life feels weird, now. but it was.

he follows Gladio off to somewhere more private. as much of an extrovert as Prompto is, he much prefers being outgoing around smaller crowds of people, and the thought of just chilling with him is a perfect way to cap off the night. it's not like the effects of the drugged food have completely worn off either; he'd had some obedience food earlier, and something that made him tell the truth for a while. but they were much subtler now, faded. it'd be impossible to tell if being asked to pour them some alcohol was Prompto just being helpful or him just following along with the mind-altering state and what it had demanded of him. either way, there's two glasses of something much colder than the heat of a room filled with bodies, and he's more than happy to offer one over to Gladio.]

You okay, big guy? [he does look incredibly warm, and it's not like Prompto doesn't feel the heat either, but his is welcomed for someone with a much smaller frame. he leans back comfortably on the couch that they're sharing.

it's also near impossible not to notice how his skin glistens- his clavicles looks severely and unfairly prominent right now.]

Take your shirt off, get some ventilation going-- maybe it'll help!

Never better.

[ Except... no, it's pretty clear he's feeling way too hot. Gladio shakes his head and tries again. He's sure he's heard the term 'meat sweats' at least once in his life, but it's never been a problem before. ]

Guess I should have left that last skewer for someone else.

[ There's a flash of a grin that Gladio aims down at Prompto before he makes a show of hiking up the tank top -- on a dry day, the black fabric stretches across his muscular figure, but after working up a sweat, the fabric clings to his damp skin. He takes off the tank slowly, obviously peacocking his way to revealing his tattooed body in all it's shining, bare-chested glory. He doesn't even bother swiping away the sheen of sweat with the garment, he just tosses it onto the arm rest and flops back against the couch again. ]

Better?

[ Well, Gladio certainly feels better. At least here he doesn't feel the oppressive heat of all those bodies at work, and when offered the refreshment, he rolls over to his side and bears his weight on his elbow as he takes the glass and leaves it raised to tap against Prompto's. Amber eyes linger a bit too long past the lip of the gunslinger's cup in their quiet admiration of Prompto's tight, compact figure. ]

Hey, what are we drinking to? Whatever new adventure this is supposed to be?

[as a response to Gladio removing his shirt in a completely painfully erotic way, Prompto doesn't wait for the cheers and swallows a healthy sip of the bourbon. whisky. rye. whatever it is- because the feeling of it trickling down his throat is a slow burn that purges the sin right out of him, all the way down.]

Uh- erm. I, uh. I mean, yeah. Absolutely!

[he's getting looked at like he's one of those meat skewers, and it's putting the sin right back into him. he's imagining things, right? Prompt leans, just a tad, so that their glasses can finally eskimo kiss in the shared tradition of drinking with one of your best friends. he remains cool, calm and collected... as well as this Argentum can, but those amber eyes have always had this haunting effect on him as if Gladio could always see right into and through him.]

A toast to being whisky'ed away to a new world!

[that was bad, and he should feel bad-- but he doesn't. he smiles warmly, his throat still ringing from the first sip as he takes a particularly good second one. he leans back a bit, offering Gladio's head a place to rest against his leg. four to a tent makes you awfully care less about these sorts of things. he's pretty sure he's woken up in a complete mess of tangled up forms with all of them, at some point.

listen, it's not his fault he's an avid sleep cuddler.]

Hey, lemme see your card.

[ And let's not forget Gladio's self-proclaimed proclivity towards spreading out in a tent. There's no doubt that on cold nights they ended up a tangled mess trying to huddle for warmth or trying to find comfort in hard, engraved rocky surfaces that served as their haven from the darkness. ]

Ugh, stop. You're killing me with those puns!

[ Gladio pauses, then lifts his wrist up to send his card to Prompto. It's... a bit extreme and lacks much of what might happen on a normal night under the stars. Except the first row. That actually shows promise. ]

If you're wondering, no -- spanking isn't on my card. [ Neither is Kancho, you jerk. ]

I've shown you mine, now show me yours. [ Before he decides to use force. Unless... you know, you're into that. ]

Aw man, how am I gonna get my butt fix?

[he should really have thought that one through a little bit more, but Prompto's too okay with being an absolute loser around Gladio to actively monitor what he says anymore. and through the magic of Bracelet Infrared Technological Communication Hashing, or whatever it is that's powering these things up (aka some BITCH in a hospital toying with all of them), he's pulled into the world of Gladio's prescribed kinks. he scans through the top row. then down a row, and another. it does kind of seem to get worse as the lines go on, but he's a lot more mature about these cards after having seen a few.

most of the stuff here isn't anything that he'd venture into naturally. his dating life was pretty non-existent on the road, and it was painful enough to even have them tease him about his crush on Cindy, let alone finding an empty night or two to sneak out with a Tinder match here or there. and even then, if he had the opportunity and the time was right and he didn't fumble all over himself, he's pretty sure the same excuse would've cropped up every time, lurching in the back of his head: 'it was fun, but it wasn't what I was looking for!'

because what he was looking for was pretty unobtainable, and he knew that. so the cycle of self torture perpetuated itself. but it's barely two nights in, and he's already gotten one of his own squares ticked off, which is apparent now, as he sends over his own card. he loves Gladio a whole lot, but he doesn't want to be wrestled down with a drink in his hand just to end up giving him a copy of his card in the end anyway.]

All yours. Don't laugh too hard, okay?

[he reclines a bit, placing his drink on the armrest of the couch, almost dangerous in its positioning.

his own card, huh? maybe if he got over himself he'd be a lot more willing to jump on board with this whole thing. well, importantly, if he got over some-one, but that's a different story.]

What's my survival rating look like? I'm gonna say... about a C+ right now.

[ Gladio levels a warning finger at Prompto's eyes as if silently promising he will wrestle him to the ground if he so much as thinks of kancho. But he resumes looking at Prompto's card a moment later, because let's face it -- if his own is any indication, this card could be his golden ticket to months of teasing fodder. ]

No promises.

[ He leaves him with that to chew on, but he drains his glass and winces through the bite of the drink and relishes the spreading warmth as it runs down his throat. Gladio sets the glass down, then rolls over to drape himself over the couch and resting on Prompto's conveniently placed lap. Talk about precarious placement, it would be far too easy for him to turn his face just so and he'd be nuzzling -- Okay, that's a thought Gladio attempts to smother behind humor, but his smirk looks a bit too tight as he quips back: ]

Not good. Looks like you're critical condition. We're gonna have to really hit the books if you're gonna get a passing grade.

[ Gladio thinks it's a hilarious joke, but he hardly has any time to laugh at it when his eyes fall on what he at first assumes is a smudge. It's not. It's evidence that Prompto himself has, to put it bluntly, gotten laid. ]

Oh... what have we here?

[ Naturally, he zeroes in on it. Gladio himself doesn't have anything checked (yet) ~~because a certain SOMEONE has been not tagging the whole damn week~~ because of reasons. Amber eyes are slow to peel away from the card before he points at it and then squints at the blond. ]

Is 'Public' what I think it is?

[wow!!!! he showed Gladio out of the goodness of his heart and a strict fear that he'd be knee deep in thigh headlock territory if he didn't. which, probably isn't the worst thing in the world to be? Prompto has weird tastes. he smiles, though, because he can't hold it against Gladio. he kind of loves being teased, because being teased means that he's being noticed. it's not as sad as it sounds; he assumes if Gladio's quiet around a person it's because he doesn't know, or worse, doesn't like them.

his instinctive, caring personality, though, has him rummage his non-bracelet'ed hand through the length of his friend's hair, almost in a fond, doting sort of way. if Gladio was the one with urge control, Prompto definitely has to make up for it. he helps him get some of that hair away from his face, as his lap warms up with the other's highly, erm, alerting body heat.]

Oh, my god.

[his hand stops, and he drags his bracelet away from Gladio's perveying eyes. suffice it to say that if Gladio still has his senses about him, and his head is so close to Prompto's torso, that he might still be able to smell the lingering scent of sex on him. something he didn't even kind of think about a few moments ago when he invited him, but he's keenly aware of in the moment, now.]

Gladio! You can't just ask a dude like that. [he can.] A gentleman never gets his dick kissed and tells.

[he's not entirely sure the alcohol isn't to blame here, but under normal circumstances, they've talked about their sex life before, right? it's damn near impossible to ignore Prompto's extra special after-sex mood when he's gotten a good night of railing in. i can't believe i just had to write that, and yet. here we are.]

[ It's a valid fear, Prompto. His thighs are massive and probably has crushed walnuts with them or Eos' equivalent. Gladio looks over the card with his smirk fading into a contented expression, it's been a long time since he felt someone's fingers through his hair. He grunts a reply, a deep rumble of contentment. This is nice.

Gladio's brows shoot up, he's pretty sure he's never heard a filthier line from Prompto. For a guy who had a hard time even talking about Cindy without looking like he's about to have a stroke, hearing him talk about having his 'dick kissed' is nothing short of flooring. He probably flustered his way through it, too, knowing him... all hot and bothered, helpless in his own way...

Gladio catches himself imagining it, freckles hidden behind a flush so fierce just before the first wet, white line of release hits them. Okay, actually that's hot, and he wouldn't mind exploring that line of thinking either.

And something about him smells sexy too, a familiar scent -- bitter but not like sweat. Gladio takes a moment to think about it, quietly watching the man pull away his bracelet and hide his card from view. While there's little privacy afforded any of them while on the road, Gladio knows from personal experience what hastily cleaned up sex smells like. ]

...No way. [ Turning on the couch, he reaches over Prompto for his wrist again, trying to get another look. ] Was it here?

Edited 2020-06-13 22:27 (UTC)

[to say that Prompto was a little out of it tonight was a massive understatement, but whether it's not the calm, cool collected state of sex afterglow or the fact that every ounce of food here is liable to be drugged half to hell, it's hard to really tell. flustered is putting it lightly- he was going out of his goddamn mind and squirming almost too much right when he had came.

he didn't have a wealth of experience to draw from, most of his encounters kind of rushed and just left on the side of the road, but he could safely say that if he relaxed a bit? calmed down a bit and just let his body do the work it was meant to do... it felt really good. it was a dangerous sort of admission for the blond to work through. he could easily get addicted to how it made him feel afterward, even as he wears the scent of it like a badge of honor. where this confidence had even come from, well, it's probably staring them straight in the face in the form of caramel colored liquid.

without pulling his hand back, he lets Gladio reach up to him to get a look at it again. Prompto tilts his head and looks at the floor in front of them, trying to bite back an obvious smile building on his face.]

I mean.

[he sucks his lips inward, hiding their relative pinkness from sight. did Gladio really need to know? he can't put a finger on it, but the curiosity riles a sort of attraction in him.]

Yeah, I guess! It was downstairs near the buffet table. Never thought I'd do something like that in my life. [he awkwardly laughs at himself and then goes for the last sip in his glass, and he knows that when alcohol stops burning all the way down, that his body's getting too used to it.]

What's with the interest, big guy?

[ The expression says it all. A stunned silence falls between them as Prompto admits to it with his body when words fail him. ]

Never thought you had it in you.

[ When they had each tried (and failed... spectacularly, actually) to pursue Cindy, their approaches were the difference between night and day. Prompto stammered around the subject, frequently calling for help or making some excuse to bail before he embarrassed himself further. Gladio was as direct as one could be, and they both got shot down time and again. Can't blame them for trying...

But he can't imagine he missed it, Prompto was an excitable ball of restless energy, and sure the party downstairs was bumping but he figured he'd have seen something. Hell, he really wants to see him in that kind of state -- aroused, overwhelmed, overcome by his own rushing orgasm with so many eyes that could catch him in the act. How come he didn't know this wild side of Prompto before?

How come he's never had a go at it? It's an illogical leap to make, but Gladio's got sex on the brain, his urges neatly in alignment with what their hosts likely intended. He looks at his card and considers it. ]

You must've been pretty worked up to do something that risky. [ He lets go of his wrist, but remains hovering over Prompto. All those times they shared a tent or one of the two beds between the four of them in some motel. Not once did he think about releasing some of that tension with Prompto. He always figured he wasn't the type. ] Kinda hot, makes me wonder if all those times you protested was all an act.

[ He reaches up and takes Prompto's chin to direct his attention onto his face, not letting him escape by looking away. ]

Was it all an act?

[it was completely embarrassing that he couldn't even work up the courage to talk to Cindy when Noctis and him had went on that morning stroll to Hammerhead, and Noctis had to be his Cyrano for the entirety of the encounter. in truth, when it comes to pretty much anything he really wants for himself, he locks up and freezes. sure, there's the ever present sense of anxiety that resonates inside him that he tries to keep (and fails) deep down within him. but it's more than that, too- it's the tiny thing that whispers into the back of his mind that makes him idolize people and put them up on an untouchable pedestal. he's in love with the idea of being in love, but when it comes down to it, he just doesn't know what to do or how to move forward. a mess of hangups, for sure.]

I think there's something in the food, 'cause otherwise I'd be a total mess right now.

[is it cowardice to hide behind the confidence boost it's given him? probably, but it feels.

just so fucking nice for once to give into something he wants without actively trying to ruin it for himself. he had given into a sexual desire and for once, didn't feel crippling shame over having wanted it to begin with.

and when Gladio presses forward, holds him accountable to it, his normal instinct would be to try to find an escape plan from the conversation that was bound to follow it. it isn't until his hand is rounding the bottom of his chin that he actually gets a better look at Gladio, having avoided some certain amount of eye contact with him for the time being.

wait... is he? is he interested in him? his sense of friendship and loyalty is kind of being messed around with right now. there's a barrier between them, a shield of duty and a line that he knows, at some deep down level, that they ought not to cross. but when he's like this, and he's in control of the situation, and it doesn't feel like there's this stigma between them not to cross over into more than what they have?

why the hell not?

holy shit, that's kind of a terrifying idea. he feels a certain lightness to his body, an unsure kind of gambit arousing him to meet the equal beckon to answer him.]

Gladio... you're. You're, uhm.

[he feels his face starting to turn red, his body longing and aching for contact again, yet at the same time, almost shaking. even through the alcohol and aphrodisiac, to open up to him, and to be possibly turned down... it would absolutely crush him. he breathes in, Gladio's scent strong and alluring, in a way he's never quite realized as much as he does right now.]

You're... really turning me on.

Yeah?

[ Gladio could feel his uncertainty building inside of Prompto. But when he actually, finally gets it out, Gladio rewards him with a gentle slide of his thumb over his bottom lip as he pauses, thinking about it. His mouth breaks into a smile. ]

Good, 'cause I'm kinda feeling turned on myself.

[ There's no kinda about it -- Gladio's leather pants show distinctive shape of a half-hard cock pressing up high on one leg, stretching the leather until the telltale shape bears definition from the light playing on it. He makes sure Prompto sees it when he reaches down to squeeze over that growing bulge. ]

What makes you think it's the food causing it?

[ It's a question he should be asking. Years of following in his father's footsteps to become King's Shield to Noctis has left him with persistent vigilance appropriate for a bodyguard whose job it was not only to prepare Noctis for the trials ahead, but to shoulder the burden of his fate with him. If the food is tampered with, if it's making them do things they wouldn't otherwise be doing, that's good to know and he'll have to adjust.

Except he might not remember, not with that aphrodisiac clouding up his mind and his mind focusing on more pleasurable pursuits. He lets his fingers fall from Prompto's chin and snag over his shirt as he draws a line down his stomach, hooks onto his belt. He reaches in, grabbing his pants with a deep grip by the waistband and belt, then pulls Prompto closer to him on the couch. He wants him in his lap, wants to get his hands all over him and catch up on all that lost time he didn't know he had. ]

[who could've thought that one, simple gesture could set signal flares riding up and down Prompto's entire body, when all it took for him to realize his attraction to Gladio was cemented by a gentle brush against his bottom lip. his eyebrows furrow upward, as his freckle splattered face moves from a state of apprehension to slow-churning determination. does he know that he has this power over people? the ability to make them feel like they're the most important person in the room without even so much as saying a single word... the hulking figure of a beast of a man with soft, supple touches that could gut an entire person from the inside out?

yes. Prompto doesn't have a single other thought in his head, other than that. whatever he wants, he wants to give it to him in spades, with every single ounce of his fiber. he's probably too easy, not even slightly a challenge in this state, but it's hard to guess what this would be like without aphrodisiac coursing through both of their veins. if Gladio had acted like this normally, he's not sure he'd have the willpower to stand his own ground against it. and almost as if he's saying: "smother me," he acquiesces to it- to all of it, the growth that's so clearly evident in his pants, and the yearning tug to get him to sit on those muscled thighs.

and one, single, awfully lewd thought crosses his mind. he's going to ride Gladio until he can't walk straight ever again. god, how much he blushes and practically fumbles his way through getting on top of the other. it must be obvious, and he apologizes by way of a short, non-committing chuckle at himself.]

Dunno... [he arches his back a little forward.] But now I'm kinda left wondering why we never did this back at camp.

[ There is an answer to that. The absence of aphrodisiac, the missing ingredient. The key that would open Pandora's Box, and that's the whole point -- the reason why their robotic hosts ensured the food was given a little extra something to put all their guests in the mood. They have a world to build, after all. ]

Me too. [ Gladio wonders why he hadn't. During those nights when he'd have too much restless energy, when he'd know just how to blow off some steam but was too far from civilization to, he'd excuse himself to somewhere private and return more relaxed. He could've instead rolled over and pulled Prompto into his arms. And what kind of thrill would it have been to try to keep quiet with the others in camp? Why didn't he just try it with any of them?

But wait. Even in this state, Gladio's sworn oath to protect Noctis probably doesn't exclude sex, but he feels that's a huge overreach to even consider it. Even if the thought is hot in his current, highly aroused state, the thought feels oddly disrespectful. It's also killing his mood, so he gives his head a small shake and pushes the thought aside. ]

Probably not enough privacy.

[ Then again, there's not a whole lot of that here. But it's better than downstairs, Gladio just hopes no one comes barging in while they're otherwise preoccupied, but... does he really care if anyone does? Depends on the person. He'd hate to have to explain himself to Noctis as to why he's got his cock buried in his bff. Gladio's eyes roam down his chest to where he perches himself on his thighs. He looks good here, straddling his lap. The grip on his waistband relaxes and he extracts his hand from his pants, only to cover Prompto's burgeoning erection with his hand and squeezing it. ]

Privacy's not a problem now... no one's gonna hear us in here.

[he's not wrong in the slightest. it was no secret that Prompto could be found playing mobile games well past the hours that everyone else had gone to bed, especially after long days when his nerves were shot from having to endure something that was far, far out of reach to his comfort zone. it's not like he can guess anything that was going through Gladio's head prior to this, but he knows the swirl of his own thoughts. it wasn't only once or twice that the errant thought appeared in Prompto's head of subtly waking Noctis up. confessing his whole heart out to him then and there- but the thought of shame that it brought to him kept him back, the duty of a friend is to never cross a certain line, and especially not one that would be irreparable for the rest of the party. he kept his feelings inside, even when it haunted and ached him to do so, and it would've been a similar case for Gladio. he never would've imagined the guy would be into someone like him. someone so small, easy to break, so easily flustered. he subconsciously ruled feelings out for Gladio simply because he knew he wasn't good enough for him.

but does it matter anymore?

the realization that this was a thing that could even happen hits Prompto like a freight train. his mind is addled enough due to his metabolism, and his urge is to go along with what feels good, rather than to question every little angle of it until he's exhausted himself into overthinking it. and it's kind of hard to pay attention to anything other than the way Gladio moves against him.

he buries a hand into the side of the couch as his head lowers, giving the other all the access he could ask for, letting himself be touched as much as the other pleases. this feeling- the same one he had felt when Suzaku had started with him earlier tonight... it was downright addictive. to be seen as someone attractive, to be touched, to know where things are heading. he bites down on his bottom lip, already eternally chapped from the way he anxiously does it so frequently and lets out a soft sort of hum as the grip is tightened.]

That's good! I mean. [he boldly informs Gladio of a single fact about himself, one that he's discovered somewhat recently.]

I get kinda loud.

Guess it's a good thing we didn't do this at camp.

[ Amused, Gladio laughs and gives his cock another firm squeeze, stroking his length from over his clothes, petting it while he watches Prompto's bitten lips grow a pretty shade of pink. ]

You're getting pretty hard there, champ. You wanna relieve some of that pressure?

[ He doesn't just release Prompto, he drags his fingers off him... lets the warmth of his hands bleed through his clothes as he slides his palms down and up his thighs, then reaches for his belt to open it. He moves slow and purposeful, giving Prompto plenty of opportunity to stop him, but he maintains that heavy eye contact with the same calm and confident demeanor. Prompto's never been like the rest of Noctis' entourage. He volunteered, learned to fight, bound not by duty but friendship to Noctis... and yet he was an immediate breath of fresh air. In a lot of ways, Gladio wants to protect him too, keep him sharp... his presence made Noctis safer and happier, but his playfulness endears him to Gladio. ]

Like a volcano ready to blow.

[he probably needs to work on his dirty talk, but now's not the time for that lecture. Prompto probably wouldn't be him if he had some masterful comment to make about how his dick is practically seething with ample amounts of wetness from the attention that Gladio's giving him, but that's for the other to find out as he begins to become undressed in his lap. he smiles, leaning his forehead up against the bigger man.

he knows he wants his lips on Gladio's, but does that push past the casual nature that this entails, or would it be weird? he's never thought about the way it curves, their fullness, or what it would feel like to push up against them, but now that their close proximity warrants it, and now that the other's fingers trail against his thighs, all bets are off the table. regardless, for now, he rests there, complacent in the other's inferno temperature, as he moves to give him more room to unzip. all the while, he's acutely aware of every single fraction of friction that he creates. he can feel Gladio beneath him- and suffice it to say, he's probably seen the other naked before countless numbers of times when they had to bath in a river or share bathrooms, or whatever.

but holy shit, when he's hard? that thing is a veritable monster.

Prompto's slowly hitting the realization that there's no way his small frame is accustomed to anything that size. but, you know what? he loves a good challenge.]

Yeah? Don't blow yet, you'll make a mess of us both. [ Which, in his current state of mine, doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Gladio's no stranger to the unspoken tells a person makes, he kind of has to -- he'd make a poor bodyguard if he didn't know how to read someone like an open book. He notes the way Prompto's eyes drop to his mouth time and again, recognizing the subtle hint of desire. When the blond drops his forehead against his chest, Gladio reaches a hand to the back of his neck, his fingers scrubbing gently into his hairline. ]

Let's both get comfortable, alright?

[ Once he has Prompto's belt open, he reaches for his own, letting the buckle hang loose on either side of him as he pops the top button open and draws down the zipper with a soft purr. He switches back to Prompto's next and helps him out of his skinny pants, at least enough to get his cock out. Hauling his own out of his pants, he feels like his cock is practically steaming in the air, hot and hard with want. He pulls Prompto closer by letting his hands rest on his hips, then sliding over his backside. His fingers dip into the loose waistband of his pants and into his underwear, exposing the cleft of his ass a little as he squeezes each cheek with both hands, then drags him up his thighs until their erections barely touch. ]

...C'mere.

[ Lifting his hands away, one comes up to cup the side of his face, tipping it up to meet his as he gazes at him. Without a word, he moves in and covers his mouth with his and kisses him. ]

[eventually, they're both going to need that awkward few moments to remove their respective pants off completely, but there's something deeply erotic behind getting undressed by another person. as haphazard as they could be, giving into the way their hot blooded nature are compelling them to be, this could be a non-event. Gladio is more than strong enough to pin him down against the cushion of the couch and rip downward, exposing him, and Prompto would be completely washed clean of any complaints that he might've had.

but this one is a very persistently annoying one- and that, of course, is once their bodies are close and Prompto's ridden up the long expanse of well built thighs, that their cocks aren't touching yet. the air around them makes the otherwise warm appendage long for the company of a hand, a mouth, an ass- anything beats the molecules of cool air that's left it to fend for its own out there in the world.

Gladio surprises him most when there's a firm hand to the back of his neck and he tilts upward, face ablaze with warmth as he maintains his raptured state of arousal to Gladio's scent, his muscles, his commanding touch. it felt so good, all of it, and he couldn't deny how much he loved the determined way that Gladio moved the both of them forward, without the hesitation that preoccupied so much of Prompto's demeanor.

when they kiss, it's soft at first, and it doesn't feel anywhere near wrong or shameful, which is honestly... something he should've been worrying about, considering their relative positions and stations in life. it just feels nice, like the warm embrace after coming in from the rain. he groans, given a few inches of room to work with now as he eases into it, giving into a base desire that feels new and tentative, but satisfying and alluring all the same.

Prompto pushes his cock up against Gladio's when he angles more for the kiss that they share. sidled up against each other, it's clear that Prompto is a tad smaller, but it's not a source of embarrassment for him, no- not when the tip of his head is slick with a little of his pre-cum, and gods, if Gladio squeezed his ass again he's sure there'd be more of it to go around for the both of them. he reaches down to cup both of them with one hand, a feat too impossible made by the width of their shared arousals.

he imagines that he could probably get off just by grinding against him like this. the texture of Gladio's underside provides just enough friction to make it happen, and the thought of that makes a shudder viscerally go up and down through his body. he'd have a wise-ass crack to make at Gladio that might deflate the mood, but for now, his mouth is otherwise preoccupied, and has no purchase or longing for anything else right now.]

[ There will be ample opportunities for Gladio to assert himself, and it's probably a good thing that the aphrodisiac didn't turn him more aggressive as it had with a certain other blond -- he could have split seams and torn cloth had he been so inclined to crowd Prompto up against the nearest flat surface and ripped the clothes off his body given the lack of supplies. Besides, it's best these things are discussed first, boundaries mapped out -- making sure that every act of aggression was talked over and then hedged on either side with proper care and comfort.

The kiss is tender for Prompto's sake. And it's only when Gladio feels him melt and moan against his lips that he softens his lips and allows them to part, just in time for the warm fullness of Prompto's cock to press against his own burly erection. Gladio sucks in a heavy breath through his nose, his fingers flexing as he kneads both cheeks of his ass. The sensation of their cocks, tacky from being trapped in their layers, snag nakedly against one another until the slick dribble of arousal smears between them. It's a gorgeous sensation that entices Gladio to feed Prompto his eager tongue with a deep rumble of approval in his chest, twisting the chaste kiss into something filthy. ]

Mmh.

[ Gladio's hand soon grasps them both, his tough and thick fingers covering Prompto's from the opposite side and squeezing hungrily. He swirls his tongue around his and then pulls back to give him a heated look as he guides his hand to stroke. ]

That's it. Squeeze tighter.

[ Gladio's cock is darker than Prompto's, matching his rugged appearance. It's muscular shaft becomes slick as thin lines of clear pre-cum beads up at the head and drips over their knuckles. He feels arousal quake through Prompto and speeds up his hands, going from sultry slow and stepping up to a steady stroke. He covers Prompto's mouth with a few brief pecks with his lips, his voice deep and quiet as he asks: ]

...Can I touch your ass? [ He technically already is, but there's a big, big difference between grab ass and kancho, something Prompto should know a lot about, so the same applies in this instance. ]

1. because you cannot convince me that gladio doesn't party with that body

it's true; that boy was made to fuck

I see only truth here

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I'm sorry for taking so long to tag back! Also the someone in this tag is me, gomen

dude its completely okay ♥

thank you, merciful fuckboi

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