[personal profile] chlorhexidine
chlorhexidine: (Iggy)
Gladio's fingers dug into the muscle of Ignis's shoulders, and Ignis closed his eyes, inhaling slowly and deeply. He'd had a crick in his neck most of the day, and by evening it was becoming unbearable. Gladio's fingers were large, his hands rough, but they were exactly what he needed to release that tension in his neck.

“A little higher,” he said, and Gladio's fingers worked up edging closer and closer to the spot that was troubling him until, “there.” He gasped with the pressure, and then relief, hazy satisfaction drifting across his face. He leaned back into Gladio's hands, murmuring happily as Gladio continued to work.

“You hold a lot of tension in your shoulders,” Gladio said, his voice emanating from behind Ignis, and just to his right.

“You honestly have no idea,” Ignis replied, his eyes remaining closed. He could stay like this for hours if Gladio let him, just enjoying the peace, and relief, and low rumble of Gladio's voice.

There were a few blissful minutes like that, and then Gladio's left hand drifted away, trailing down his back to curl around his waist and pull him back into Gladio's lap. His right hand stopped as well, then, fingers replaced by lips, and warm breath through the cotton of his shirt. He felt warm, and comfortable, and when Gladio's fingers tugged his collar aside to allow him to press a kiss to the side of Ignis's neck, Ignis tilted his head to give Gladio a little more space.

He reached up and tugged Gladio's hand away from his collar, holding it in his own over his heart, and settled back against Gladio. Gladio seemed to understand the cue, and curled both of his arms around Ignis in a protective hug, resting his chin on Ignis's shoulder. “You okay?”

“I am now.”

“Sure?”

Ignis smiled. It was hard to put his finger on the best thing about being with Gladio, but this was up there as a contender. He was unfailingly loyal, stupendously attractive, and as gentle as the brush of silk slipping over skin. Although he didn't look like someone that could show that kind of tenderness, Gladio was as soft and sweet as a marshmallow beneath the stubble and gruff masculinity.

“I'm sure.”

“Good, because if you weren't I'd have to go and find whatever's stressing you out and punch it.”

Ignis couldn't help but break into a smile. “The Niflheim empire, the rising numbers of daemons, half the royal advisors, and Noctis. You're going to be punching for a while.”

“My arm's gonna get sore,” Gladio replied. Ignis laughed. It was rare for him to laugh outside of being tickled, an act Gladio had been strictly instructed not to commit again, and an instruction Gladio had wilfully ignored on two further occasions, and when he did it was short, and quiet. It was now, but the feeling associated with laughter was there, and that was what counted, and Gladio seemed to notice it too because he hugged Ignis a little tighter against himself and pressed his lips against Ignis's jaw, near his ear. “I'm always here,” he murmured, quiet, and low, and intimate, “whatever you need, just say.”

Ignis reached his hand up, and back, until he could sink it into Gladio's hair. He'd grown it longer than when they'd met, and had it cut in a style common to the Kingsglaive. Ignis didn't object; it gave him something to hold onto, still. He pulled his head away, until he could turn to look at Gladio. “I will,” he answered, before he pressed in to capture Gladio's mouth with his own.

Gladio's tongue was gentle and probing against his own, taking the kiss no deeper than Ignis wanted it to go. Ignis was content to kiss sweetly and tenderly for a little while, and then he shifted, pulling away from the kiss only long enough to turn in Gladio's arms, so he could kiss deeper, and then push Gladio back.

Gladio rumbled happily beneath him as Ignis pushed him down into the bed. He'd always had a fondness for when Ignis took control, and Ignis enjoyed taking control. He also, sometimes, liked to be taken control of, and be enveloped in Gladio's arms and have his every sense devoured by the man, and Gladio was quite good at telling when that was what Ignis wanted from him.

Ignis shifted to straddle Gladio, settling his hips on top of Gladio's own, and the slight press and grind this caused as he bent over and shifted to play his tongue against Gladio's own in another penetrating kiss caused another happy rumble from Gladio, and a pleasant stirring in his own trousers.

He stopped for a moment, leaning up over Gladio as his heart pounded in his chest, and looked down at him. Gladio was looking back up at him with little less than adoration, and Ignis sighed and bit his lip.

“What is it?” Gladio knew, always knew when Ignis had something on his mind.

“Can I ask something?”

“Anything.”

Anything. How had Ignis been lucky enough to catch this one's attention? Between his looks and his... love, Ignis was thoroughly spoilt. Gladio was so many of his firsts, his first friend, outside of Noct, his first partner, his first love, and Ignis was still scared of what that word meant, of all that it implied, of what it meant for his ability to function without Gladio. He needed Gladio more than coffee, and he'd admitted to being hopelessly and genuinely addicted to that, recently. Gladio was more than an addiction. An addiction was by its nature something you didn't require to survive but upon which you've become dependent because your body, or your mind, or both, have become accustomed to its presence. Gladio was more than that. An addict, at the least, can envision a future without the object of the addiction; it may not be the rosiest picture they painted, but they would, at least, know what tomorrow would hold for them if they no longer had their substance of choice.

Ignis didn't. If Gladio was gone from the world tomorrow, he wouldn't know how he'd even wake up to face it.

“Could I be on top?” He asked.

Gladio looked up at him, his expression neutral, but not carefully so. It wasn't a deliberately held neutrality. “You mean like, ride me?” He asked.

Ah. “No,” Ignis answered, wondering if perhaps he'd pushed the boundary a little too far. Being with a man didn't mean he necessarily wanted to do that, after all.

He could see the thoughts crossing Gladio's mind in the shift of his jaw, the rove of his eyes from Ignis's face, to his chest, and down, and then back up again. It seemed to take him too long to answer.

“Okay.”

Ignis, who had been shifting mental gears to backtrack and assure Gladio that a refusal was also an acceptable answer, it was, after all, merely a question, found himself utterly blank for a moment. “You,” he began, hurriedly trying to adjust once more without effectively making his brain stall, “you're sure?”

Gladio shrugged one shoulder as if he'd decided it was no big deal. “Yeah. It's my first time though, so be gentle.”

Ignis looked at Gladio, at his honest and halfway earnest expression, and laughed again. He leaned forward again, to press another kiss to Gladio's mouth. By the Goddess he was lucky to have this one. “I'll take care of you,” he promised, his lips brushing Gladio's.

Gladio wrapped his arms around Ignis again, holding him in to kiss again before he replied, “I know, I trust you.”

Trust. That word had become synonymous with all the things Ignis daren't say. He trusted Noct, he trusted his majesty, and he trusted few as much as he trusted them, but that was mere trust. With Gladio it was more, not just the belief that he had Ignis's back, that he'd never hurt him, that he'd do everything in his power to protect him from things that may, but a knowledge. He didn't merely have faith that Gladio would be there should he need him; he knew it as surely as he knew his multiplication tables. It was information so basic, so inherent, that he knew it, could call on it, recite it by heart, and yet he could never explain it. Gladio had his back because he just did. Two times two was four because it just was.

He shifted his hips, dipping his hands low to work at the waistband of Gladio's trousers, unbuttoning, and then unzipping him, but he didn't go further. Instead he reached in and eased Gladio's shirt hem out. Rolling it up for the slow reveal of Gladio's abdomen was always a pleasure, and Ignis took his time, smoothing his fingers over the muscles, and the contours that separated them as if memorising them by touch. He could name each one, Gladio was near enough a walking anatomical map of hume musculature. He was an education.

He was certainly a learning experience. He purred like a happy coeurl, and his fingers tracked down to rest on the outside of Ignis's thighs as Ignis worked his shirt up, and then bent down to press his lips and his tongue against what he now knew was called the linea alba, and was, in practice, that delightful divide between the muscles up the centre of Gladio's stomach, leading from his navel to his pectorals. Gladio seemed content to lay back and allow Ignis to enjoy himself, but his fingers made their gentle back and forth in soothing, tender motions against his legs, and Ignis was quite happy for him to continue doing that for now.

His breath brushed warm against Gladio's skin, and Ignis breathed him in slowly, savouring the faint scent of masculinity and heat that lingered on him. “Do you have a preference for position?” He asked, guiding Gladio's arms up so he could remove his shirt fully. Gladio was watching him with a relaxed, happy expression, merely observing as Ignis did whatever he needed to do in order to get into the right frame of mind.

“Not really,” he admitted. Face to face was good, and let them see each other, but could be a bit awkward. They'd had some good, slow fucks on their side, Ignis's back against Gladio's chest as they both took their time to enjoy what they were doing without rushing to orgasm. Ignis on his front, fingers of one hand curled in the sheets, and the other into Gladio's hand, pillow tucked under his stomach to adjust the angle just so, so that even Ignis struggled to keep quiet when Gladio thrust in, the power of his whole body focused into the movement of his hips was a particularly good one. Any way they did it, it was Ignis he did it with, and that was the best bit, for Gladio.

Ignis seemed to be considering his options before he said, “Roll over then, I have an idea.”

Gladio smiled, as if he was reading Ignis's devious mind, and did as he was told. “You want my trousers off?” He asked.

Ignis left the bed, stripping off his own shirt as he went to retrieve something from his work bag. “Yes,” he answered, without looking round. He took his glasses, belt, shoes, and socks off before he got back on the bed, aware that his tendency to forget his glasses and socks both amused and exasperated Gladio. He unfastened the button of his trousers too, and then straddled Gladio's thighs. “Try and get comfortable,” he said, his eyes on the tattoo across Gladio's back. It covered most of his back, and he had this to thank for a lot of things. If Gladio hadn't asked his advice about what to get, well, things may have turned out differently. That tattoo was practically a friend, as far as Ignis was concerned. The mere idea of it had brought them together, and now he wore a part of it himself, tucked far enough back on his shoulder that no one other than Gladio had ever seen it, and likely never would.

He poured some of the lavender oil into his hands. He always kept a bottle in his work bag because, like the pens, and notebook, and spare pencil, and extra charger for his phone, he liked to be prepared. Sometimes, that meant being prepared for an impromptu massage. Lavender wasn't his favourite, personally, although Gladio seemed fond enough, but it was relaxing, and that was what he required.

He started from the centre of Gladio's back, working as normal, his hands passing over that tattoo in smooth, practised motions as he felt Gladio relaxing under him. Gladio shifted to drag a pillow under his head, looping his arms around it and breathing deep and slow. “If you get me too comfortable with this, I'm gonna fall asleep,” he warned.

“Don't worry,” Ignis replied, with more confidence than he'd realised he was feeling, “I have a plan, and sleeping isn't part of it.”

Gladio gave an amused huff, and settled into the pillow. Ignis leaned up, and over, pressing a chaste kiss to Gladio's cheek before he shifted down a little. His hands worked Gladio's shoulders and back with confident ease, and he could feel Gladio relaxing by degrees under him. He worked his way slowly down Gladio's back.

He stopped, and opened the other bottle, applying some of that to his hands before he went any further. He always kept a bottle of this in his work bag too, a hurried but delightful ten minutes with Gladio in the shower after sparring together had taught him about the wonders of being prepared for any eventuality in future. Gladio didn't seem to notice the change, at least not until Ignis shifted his position and slid his hands inside Gladio's underwear. Then Gladio cracked an eye, and watched Ignis over his shoulder as Ignis eased his underwear down, and then resumed his massage. “Take your time,” he said, closing his eye again, and shifting his hips a little to make it easier for Ignis to move his underwear as he desired. “I could let you do this all day.”

Ignis smirked to himself. There were worse things he could do with his time than run his hands over every contour of Gladio's body, that was for certain.

He shifted a little to start working up Gladio's legs, calf muscles first, and then up to his thighs, and then, slowly, workings to the inside of his thighs, until his fingers brushed just along the inside of Gladio's underwear and he saw Gladio's breath still. Ignis watched the rise and fall of Gladio's chest as he allowed his fingers to tease with promises he as yet refused to deliver until he was reasonably sure he was having the desired effect. Only then did he move to tug Gladio's underwear all the way down, and off his legs.

Gladio inhaled deeply as Ignis returned his hands, this time brushing his hands lightly over skin that was soft, and warm, and freshly nude. “Lift your hips a little,” he said, and Gladio complied until Ignis could reach between his legs and brush soft fingers over tender skin. Gladio's sigh gave away that he was exerting a lot of self control, and somehow that was a bigger turn on than having Gladio merely naked in front of him.

He bent over Gladio, the outside of his own thighs resting against the inside of his as he carefully let his fingers trail up and inside the cleft of his rear. “If you don't like it,” he said, softly, “just say, and we'll stop.”

Gladio murmured his acknowledgement, and Ignis teased his fingers there, keeping a careful watch on Gladio's face, and his breathing as he explored new contours with his fingertips. The heat there was new, but familiar, and Ignis was gentle as he toyed just one fingertip against the tight ring of muscle. Gladio swallowed, his eyes closed, and Ignis let his fingers drift away and down between Gladio's legs again before drawing back up to repeat the gentle stimulation.

It earned him a shaky breath from Gladio, and Ignis smiled, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Good?” He asked.

“Not bad,” Gladio admitted, shifting his hips a little.

“Think you can handle a little more?”

Gladio murmured agreement, and Ignis slowly pressed his finger in. Gladio's fingers tightened slightly against the pillow under his head, but when Ignis removed his finger just as slowly as he'd pressed in, Gladio grunted with brief pleasure. Ignis drew his finger around Gladio in a circle, and then pressed in again, the lubricant he'd swapped to earlier doing its job nicely, and instead of drawing his finger all the way out, drew back a little before pressing in again, creating a gentle rocking motion.

Gladio made that pleased noise again, his breath deepening before he said, “That's good.”

Ignis kept it up a little longer, carefully drawing out as much as he dared before pressing back in until he was slowly easing his entire finger in and out to the low soundtrack of Gladio's murmurs. He withdrew completely to run his hand back down the cleft of Gladio's rear and between his legs to find his cock, which was nicely hard and rather hot in his hand. Gladio groaned at that contact too, and Ignis indulged the both of them for a few strokes before he let go with only a little regret.
“Get however you're comfortable,” he said, pulling away to remove his own trousers and underwear, “so long as I can reach you.”

Gladio gave an amused huff, but complied. “Yes, captain,” he said, always a sign that he was enjoying Ignis's slightly bossy tone, as he spread his legs and lifted his hips.

Ignis paused to admire the view. There was something particularly thrilling in knowing Gladio was wanting and waiting for him. Perhaps he'd have to try tying his hands to the headboard at some point, so Gladio would have no choice but to wait for as long as Ignis chose to make him.

He slipped a condom on himself, the sensation of going without being delightfully intimate but the clean up being unfortunate and not something he wanted to force the both of them to deal with today, and applied more lubricant to his hand. He gave a sigh as he returned to Gladio, resuming his gentle stroking of Gladio's cock and lingering at that for a little longer before he returned his fingers to Gladio's rear. He pressed one finger in, extra lubricant making the slip and slide of his fingers over Gladio's flesh even smoother, and worked at that for a while until he could feel Gladio's muscles relaxing, and then he slowly, and carefully, slipped in a second.

Gladio inhaled a little too sharply, and Ignis hushed him, stopping when he felt muscle contract, and then relax again. “I'm being careful,” he promised.

“I know,” Gladio replied.

Ignis started the gentle, shallow thrust of his fingers, slowly deepening the movement until Gladio gave a much happier and erotic sounding moan. Ignis reached his other hand around him, and stroked his cock for him in the same slow, gentle rhythm of his fingers until he heard Gladio swallow a curse.

“Think you're ready?” He asked.

Gladio growled, dipping his head down towards his chest before he answered, “Yeah.”

“There's a reason I enjoy it,” Ignis told him, almost conversationally as he continued to stroke in and out for a little longer, letting Gladio enjoy it just a little bit longer.

“I'd figured that,” Gladio replied.

“But?”

Gladio murmured against before he admitted, his voice low, “Might have to add this to some other things we do.”

Ignis laughed, and it wasn't his short, subdued laughter, but a genuine chuckle of amusement and pleasure. “Good,” he said. “If at any point you want to stop,” he began.

“Don't worry, I'll say,” Gladio told him.

Ignis smiled, and withdrew his fingers. For the moment, he released Gladio's cock as well, resting his hand instead on Gladio's hips, and using his other hand to position himself. The heat from Gladio was new, and more intense than from his mouth, or hands, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through Ignis. “Ready?”

“Go for it.”

Ignis momentarily wondered if Gladio had really chosen the best phrasing there, as it sounded like Gladio was expecting something a little more brutal than Ignis intended, but he brushed that aside and slowly pushed in.

The heat and tightness were divine, and Ignis gave a small groan of his own. Gladio hissed, softly, but didn't tell him to stop, and they shared a shaky breath once Ignis was all the way in. “Are you all right?” Ignis asked, maintaining his composure and self discipline despite every nerve in his body telling him this was the best feeling he'd ever had in his life, let's do it again, right now.

“Yup,” Gladio answered, but he breathed deeply and let it out slowly. “It feels pretty,” Gladio tailed off, searching for the word.

“Intimate?” Ignis offered.

“Yeah.”

Ignis murmured his agreement with that assessment. “It can feel blindingly pleasurable,” he said, “but I don't know if I'm quite up to that just yet.”

“Feels pretty good right now,” Gladio said. “Maybe next time.”

Next time. Ignis looked at Gladio with a soft smile of helpless affection before he remembered himself. “I'm going to start slow,” he advised, “if you want more, or less, just say.” This part was new to both of them, after all, and had the potential to be a learning curve. How steep or gentle that curve would be would rely upon their communication. They'd found what Ignis liked, together, now they were exploring new avenues.

“I'll tell you,” Gladio said.

Ignis did as he promised, his initial slow draw back eliciting a low rumble of pleasure from Gladio. He pushed in again, finding that sensation to be heady and delightful himself, and set up a slow but intense rhythm. He kept one hand at Gladio's hip, but let his other drift forwards to take hold of his cock once more and stroke him in the steady rhythm of his own hips.

Gladio groaned again, and after a few minutes asked, “Little harder?”

The harder push Ignis gave with his hips drew a grunt, and then a groan. Ignis was, in many ways, glad that Gladio wasn't staying quiet. It let him keep better track of how things were going for him. It took rather a lot of self control to move at Gladio's pace instead of establishing his own, and Ignis slid his hand along Gladio's back, moving from his hip to his shoulder as he thrust into him at an achingly steady pace.

After a few more minutes, and a few instructions from Gladio to speed up, or slow down a little, Ignis began to find it hard to hold on. Gladio seemed to know, his fingers reaching up to brush over Ignis's at his shoulder before he moved it down to join Ignis's other hand stroking his cock. “Go on,” he said, “don't hold it back.”

Ignis managed a few more strokes inside Gladio before he shuddered and came. Gladio groaned as well, a deep growl of pleasure as Ignis came inside him and his thrusts became stilted and then halted. He didn't withdraw immediately, taking a moment instead to recover his composure before he stroked Gladio more firmly. It was Gladio's turn to groan with building pleasure, until Ignis withdrew, and then Gladio cursed, and came.

“Fuck,” he repeated, as Ignis separated from him, and dropped onto the bed beside him, a sheen of sweat cooling on his skin. Gladio rolled onto his side too, looking at Ignis with slightly dazed happiness. “Definitely using some of that on you in future.”

Ignis laughed, and looked away. “Thank you for letting me do that,” he said, to the ceiling.

“Yeah, well,” Gladio replied, with only a trace of self consciousness, “it wasn't bad for me either. Need a shower though.”

“An unfortunate side effect,” Ignis agreed.

Silence moved between them, a comfortable, sated sort of silence, which Gladio broke with a, “Hey?” He reached his hand out to brush his finger along Ignis's cheek. Ignis turned to look at him, the question in his eyes, if not on his lips. “You ever wanna try anything, just say. You don't need to thank me.”

Ignis smiled at him, pushing up on his elbow to lean over. “I do,” he replied, “for trusting me.”

Gladio looked into Ignis's eyes with a smile and asked, “It's mutual, right?”

Ignis pressed a chaste kiss to Gladio's lips before he answered, simply, “Yes.”

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