burstmodes | ( ic contact ) / duplicity

[ ... why is this something that they're starting to do? prompto wonders that when he rolls over and checks the message that comes in, feeling the heat in his face creep along his cheeks as he admires the lines of ezio's torso and chest. he's so handsome, and he honestly has no idea why this is happening to him. but – chewing on his lip, he decides to keep it casual at first, typing out a handful of texts. ]

love the angle
can't decide if that or all of you is hotter

[ a tease, yes. then, against his better judgment, prompto sits up to pull the oversized tee he's wearing over his head and tilts the camera so it snaps a pic of his naked shoulders and chest – yes, dusted in freckles – and mussed blond hair. ]

too bad i missed out on joining you

[That is a really good question. Apparently, this is just their thing now, sexting each other in the middle of the night and then never speaking of it again.

He should not like those freckles half as much as he does. But they're everywhere, like a road map that he's desperate to follow with his lips to see where it might lead.]

You look beautiful like that. It makes me want to see how you would look after.

[There's no picture that comes after those words are sent, even though it takes a few long moment's in between one message and the next. Should he?

Fuck it, he's going to.]

Perhaps you could be here for the next one.

[ this is... it's bad. they shouldn't be doing this. he shouldn't be doing this, but for some reason, he can't help it. prompto's practically compelled to reply because that's what acquaintances do, right? friends? hell, he doesn't know what they are. ]

you sure?
i mean i don't take up a lot of space
you'd hardly know i was there

[ he reads that over and quickly adds: ]

unless you feel like pinning me to the wall

[ yeah, he's never going to recover from this. ]

[They are just two people who really care about Noctis and apparently both really like showers. Oh, and occasionally sexting each other. There's no harm in that.

So long as they ever acknowledge it by the light of day it'll be fine. (Spoiler: It will probably not be fine.)]

I do not need to be in the shower to do that.

[Going full throttle on this fuck it.]

I could take you on the kitchen counter. Or bent over my desk. It is up to you.

[ those are two very different things that should never meet. prompto is certain of that, even if he's not certain about why this keeps happening. but there's no crime in indulging in words, right? it's not like they're physically participating in any of these things. (even if he's secretly thinking about what it might feel like. just once.) ]

mmm i dunno
i think i might need to try out both to see what's better
or maybe you have a preference on how you want me

guess you should get me naked first either way

[Well, Prompto, if you play your cards right it's entirely possible you'll get to find out. Just once. Maybe twice. Then again in the morning. He totally hasn't given this any thought at all.]

I want you on your back beneath me so I can see your face when I make you cry out my name. Or me on my knees in front of you with your hands in my hair.

You're already half way there. It would be a shame to waste it.

[ his breathing picks up a little reading those texts, and he's not sure if it's because he's turned on or scared or both. he's just got to keep rolling with it. ]

or i could put it back on and take it off for you in person

[ shit, what is he doing. that's not part of the game. his fear boner is just guiding him along apparently. ]

and then we can test out your kitchen
or your desk
maybe even the shower

[Prompto.

Prompto Argentum.

What the fuck are you doing right now? How in Gods name is he supposed to say no to you? He knows what he should do, and it's very, very different then what he actually going to do.]

Prove it. Come to me and I will give you everything you want.

[And in ultimate Ezio style, he sends along his address, just to show how serious he is.]

[ this is bad. so, so bad.

never, in a million years, would he have thought he'd be in a situation like this, and for a second, he thinks about not showing up. he thinks about deleting every message and even ezio's username attachment because these are things he never does. but the curious part of him is already motivating him to climb out of bed and put on his shirt. then, he thinks better of it and takes the fastest shower of his life before dressing in a pair of yoga pants and the same oversized tee he'd worn to bed. just two thin pieces of clothes to separate him from whatever he's getting himself into, and before he can talk himself out of it, he goes.

he lingers outside ezio's door for the longest time before deciding to send a text. always classy. maybe it'll help with his nerves. ]

i'm here

[ that's it. that's all he sends. and nope, it's definitely not helping with anything. ]

[On the list of things that Ezio ever expected to happen, this ranks surprisingly high. Right next to him suddenly becoming celibate and the sky actually falling down.

But it is. It is happening and for a long moment, all he does is stare at that text. Two simple words, so innocent and unassuming, but they change everything in a single instant.

He could not answer, could pretend that he's already fallen asleep, could save them both from this and whatever will come of it. Should. But all he has to do is remember all of those pictures that are still currently residing in his phone to decide he's definitely not going to do the sensible thing here.

It takes approximately sixty seconds from the time the text came through to the time Ezio is opening the door, artificial golden lamplight illuminating the space behind him, making it more than apparent that all he had bothered to put on was a dark pair of lounge pants.]

That didn't take long.

[But even as he speaks he's reaching out, fingers trailing along the length of an arm before intertwining their fingers and tugging, intent on pulling Prompto inside.]

Edited 2019-04-26 20:59 (UTC)

[ he's nervous, but he's trying not to be. he's honestly doing his best, and when he doesn't get an immediate response, that small voice in the back of his head begins to niggle at him, telling him to ditch and pretend he'd gone to sleep or gotten distracted with a video game. yet, the door opens far too quickly for him to just sneak away, and his eyes narrow right at ezio's chest, trying to find words when his mouth doesn't even want to work.

the touch to his arm sends goosebumps rolling across him. ]

I just, uh, live down that way. [ where is that? he doesn't know, and he's not going to specify, blindly letting ezio draw him inside. his eyes adjust pretty quickly to the light, anxious for some unknown reason. it's probably because he literally came over here for sex. ] So... [ he bites at his lip, looking everywhere but at the other man. ] You wanted a show, right?

[ shit, why did that just come out of his mouth? and sounding confident, like he knows exactly what he's doing. ]

[Yet Ezio's eyes never stray far from Prompto's face, only ever leaving to trail down the length of his body to where their hands are currently joined, fingers carefully interlaced as he leads him across the open expanse from front door to kitchen.

Honestly, he has no idea where down that way is - he can guess, of course, considering Prompto is a dominant now and most dominant's live in the same place - and he doesn't really care. They both know exactly what he came here for, and no amount of small talk is going to change it.

Those eyes lock to the place where teeth dig into that bottom lip and he unconsciously licks his own, taking a step in until he can feel the heat rolling off the other's body.] I want everything you are willing to give me.

[ he's determined to keep his composure, and for the most part, it works. at least until they get to the entrance of the kitchen and – shit. those words in ezio's voice are really doing it for him, shifting in an effort to keep focus away from the very obvious fact he's a little turned on. his yoga pants are doing nothing to hide that.

at least ezio moves and gives him something else to focus on. ]

Everything? You sure?

[ it's a little coy, but... well. he's come all this way, and he can't back down. so, like everything else up to this point, he reaches back to grip the collar of his shirt, and with a tiny shimmy of his entire body, he tugs himself out of his tee. he drops it to the floor and then presses close to loop his arms around the other man's neck. at least he doesn't have to stretch too far, but he only does it to purposely rub himself right up against ezio; so much for being subtle. he finds his ear. ]

Gotta give me some clues first. Or do you wanna check the kitchen? [ as close as he is to him, he can't bring himself to erase the rest of that distance and kiss him. ]

[Hands come to rest upon each hip bone almost unconsciously like they're so used to completing the action that they do so entirely on their one. Fingers flex slowly, soft little twitches of movement that are barely there and yet all too real. Once, like a flutter of butterflies wings. Twice, like a silent warning bell who's call won't be heeded.

Again, firmer than before, a sort of prelude to a soft tug that brings their bodies flush, forcing whatever space remained between them to disappear. And it's impossible to keep that smirk from crossing his features as he feels Prompto pressing into his thigh. Even more so when his own hips angle outwards, allowing the other to feel his matching excitement.]

Your first clue is that it involves a flat surface. [Even as he speaks his head is dipping forward, lips brushing over Prom's jawline, working his way up towards his ear and back down.] Your second is whatever position you choose.

[ it's like a relentless drum of heat, the way ezio is teasing him. prompto can't figure out which way is up when he drags him in, the grind of their hips a glaring reminder that this is, in fact, reality. they're not exchanging texts or pics in that safe realm of extended fantasy. they're not in separate places with walls between them. prompto feels a shiver running all the way down his spine when those words ghost his ear, and he's just – ]

I, ah, dunno. You said something about the counter? [ he turns his head inward and finds that the motion causes his lips to smear across ezio's cheek. ] Or we could test out your table. Think it's sturdy enough?

[ why does he keep asking stupid questions? there's a dark flush blooming down his chest and extending further, the freckles at his shoulders and the soft dusting along his hipbones brighter than usual because of his pink skin. he tries not to think about that and just bites the bullet, licking at his bottom lip before ghosting a kiss at the corner of ezio's mouth. then another and another, his breath growing heavier with each grazing kiss. ]

[His mouth opens and his lips part and the answer to that question, stupid or no, is right at the tip of his tongue waiting to fall. But it never comes, silenced before it ever has a chance to become anything more than a simple thought.

The first one comes as a surprise, eyes falling closed and a breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding finally releasing. He allows the second to come much like the first, savoring in the feeling of those soft lips against his own and that heated skin beneath his touch.

By the third he gave in, head angling to bring their mouths together, the connection soft and slow. The fourth is harder, more desperate, teeth nipping against Prompto's bottom lip and tugging.

All the while he's carefully maneuvering them back, towards the table Prompto had wondered about, the solid oak thick and sturdy, more than likely capable of holding their combined weights once they finally reached it.]

[ kissing him is a thousand conflicting emotions all at once, but he's decided he isn't going to stop. he isn't going to let his brain dictate what it thinks he wants, letting his body fall to instinct and what experience he does have. that ezio is guiding them makes it a little easier, less of a chance prompto will fall and die of embarrassment, and when his ass bumps against the edge of the table, there is a bit of finesse in him, using a hand to lift himself up onto it so he's sitting. it's better levarage for a lot of things, but mostly? they can keep kissing.

he bites at ezio's bottom lip, teasing at the spot with his tongue before using it to kiss him deeper. an eagerness reflects in it that prompto can't hide, glad for the dim lighting and equally glad that he's sitting. a moment passes, and he hooks one of his legs around him, curling it against his hip to bring him closer. just enough to feel him, and it's – a lot. this is all a lot, but he tries to keep going, sucking in a breath that falls out on a soft moan when there's finally some friction between his legs. the material of his yoga pants is thin and hide nothing; so there's no denying that this is really working for him. ]

What now? [ it's a hot whisper against his mouth. ] Is this the way you want me?

[This is wrong. This is so wrong for so many reasons. And the portion of his brain - the single tiny, tiny brain cell that has managed to escape the cloud of lust and want currently falling over him - realizes all of them. Prompto is Noctis' best friend and that connection alone should have been enough to make him back away.

But his body wasn't listening, more than intent on doing whatever it pleased. And right now that was slipping between the open space created by Prompto's legs, pressing in with hips and chest, hands going to each thigh and hitching them high about his waist.

Pale skin called out to him like a beacon, inches of smooth flesh marred only by the splattering of dark freckles. How far they reach? Could he begin at his throat and follow them down, pausing only to worship the arching hardness he felt straining against him?

Lips brushed along the line of jaw, painting the beginning and soft trail downwards, pausing in his quest only to whisper against the shell of Prompto's ear.] I want you to watch as I show you just how many other uses there are for my mouth.

[ he's not going to survive this. he doesn't know why or how any of this started, despite the evidence of it burning a hole in his phone, and if he could think, prompto might have tried to push away from this. make some excuse and trip his way out of ezio's apartment before running away. that would show him what kind of person he was when it came to things like this, but... the warm press of his hands and the way he so easily handles him is just too much.

prompto practically melts like butter. then, his heart is in his throat at that whisper. ]

Are you – [ there's a low sound in the back of his throat, trying to find something to say that isn't ridiculously lame. ] Ah, you really gonna blow me right here?

[ stupid thing to say? check. yet, prompto doesn't pause, squeezing his legs around ezio's waist and looping an arm around his neck to haul himself closer. he's trying to memorize each and every detail so he can look back on this at some other time after they never do this or talk again. just something nice to have on a rainy day. and he tilts his head, nuzzling against the spot between ezio's jaw and neck before letting his teeth scrape at his earlobe. his hand, too, wanders down between them, intent on getting his fingers under those loose pants to feel him. ]

[When you look at the accumulated list of places he has had sex just during his time in the city alone, sucking cock in the middle of his dining room wouldn't even make the top ten of the strangest. Top twenty maybe. Possibly.]

Yes. [That single word is practically breathed to life, low and soft, as those teeth scrape over his sensitive flesh, head unconsciously canting to the side in silent encouragement for Prompto to keep going. To dig them so harshly they bruise, with so much force that they break the skin and scar over (just like the short, silvery lines that currently adorn his neck, a perfect imprint of a set of teeth.)

The pants are slung low upon his hips, tied loose by the drawstring, and they shift easily, making room for that hand to slip downwards to find him hard and ready. Just like he has been since Prompto had sent him that very first picture.

Fingers slide into blond spikes and tug gently, tilting his head forward to press warm lips over heated skin, attaching and sucking until it takes on a deep reddish hue that will transform into beautiful purples and blues come morning.]

[ he can't say any of this is a mixed signal when it's all laid out in front of him–the tilt of ezio's head, the roll of his hips. prompto isn't exactly what one would call experienced; he can count the number of times he's done things with other people on both hands. but, at the very least, he's enthusiastic about it and not as shy as he'd been once when he'd shown up a blushing virgin in the city. so, he follows instinct and the heat that's beginning to well up inside him, the fabric of those thin yoga pants uncomfortable against him, and when ezio practically asks to be bitten, he obliges. slowly.

prompto sinks his teeth in at the spot between neck and shoulder, a soft thing that increases with pressure as his fingers coax between them to get into those pants. when he feels how hard he is, he loses his breath, and... this is, strangely, one of the hottest things he's ever done to someone else. or maybe erotic is the right word. a random hookup where they fuck in the kitchen before disappearing back to their lives like ghosts. he pants out a sound, trying to say something, but then, ezio sucks a bruise into his skin and he whines.

it's an embarrassingly loud sound, smearing his lips over hot skin as he tucks his face against his shoulder, and he's already shivering from the anticipation of more. does he say anything? does he do something? if they keep this up, he's going to come, and then what? that would honestly be the end of him. ] Please. [ yet, he seems to have no filter, and his hand squeezes at his cock, giving it a slow stroke. ] Keep going...

[ before he explodes and most certainly not in a good way. ]

[Most of the encounters Ezio participated in were of a particular nature, a one time only sort of affair that was over and done with before the sun had risen to shine light upon their sins. A constant state of two people rushing through this most intimate of acts only to disappear like strangers in the night, to never become a permanent memory in each other's minds.

It was the ones who were still there when morning broke and the world came alive who were the trouble. A mere handful of people who had ever gotten close to in any capacity, who's names and faces he could still so easily recall, could still bring forth inside of his mind like it had happened yesterday.

Maybe that was why this was currently happening between them, why Prompto was currently perched on the edge of that heavy oak table before him, whining softly and practically begging for whatever Ezio was about to give him. Not because they had spoken or seen one another since that first slip up, but because he could still relive those visions without even having to pull up the evidence that still resided in his phone.

It was also possibly (probably) the reason why neither of them should ever speak of whatever this was again.

Prompto listens so well to the silent signals of his body, those teeth sinking into tender flesh and making his heart skip a beat inside his chest. Makes the air that had become trapped within his throat to release on a low, breathy sound, all pleasure. Those fingers are wrapped around him and each slow stroke is like the sweetest torture he has ever known.

Nails dig lightly into sides, against hips and downwards, little sharp bites of pain to contrast the pleasure of his mouth, to counter the way his tongue and teeth are sliding across a pale, freckled shoulder. A provided distraction as one of those hands slip beneath the waistband of light pants, both surprised and utterly pleased to find nothing underneath, to find nothing standing in the way of wrapping his palm around the base of the hardness he finds and stroking.]

[ he's trying not to think about. any thinking that he does is going to be done later, alone and full of something that might border on regret. possibly fear tinged heavily with arousal. of course, he seems to be falling into habits like this without being consciously aware of it, and he wonders if more will come of this after it's over. or maybe ezio will just forget about it, and prompto can continue on with his life as if nothing is happening between them. maybe ezio won't ever think to talk to him again. maybe he's just hoping for too much the way that he always seems to do.

his feelings are mixed when that particular thought flits through his mind, but he doesn't dwell on it. not with the biting, the throaty groan from ezio that rings in his head and causes his heart to beat faster. the first touch to his cock causes him to jerk, fingers stuttering in their rhythm around him, and then, as the pressure increases, he squirms, wiggles, writhes. his breath comes much faster now, panting against the curve of ezio's shoulder and – damn. this isn't good. this isn't good at all. he's so turned on that it's almost painful. ]

Ah, f–fuck... [ he doesn't know if he wants to squeeze his thighs around him or just fall back on the table and thrust up into ezio's hand. ] If you, mmm, if you keep doing that – [ he can't quite catch his breath, trying to go back to stroking him in time with the way he's being touched, but prompto had never been particularly good at hyperfocusing on anything. his concentration is all over the place. ] Keep doing that, and I'm gonna come.

[ embarrassingly fast. too quick for this one single encounter that some part of him wants to hold onto and cherish in a way. and more than that, prompto's just loud. he pants and moans and presses his forehead hard against ezio's shoulder, his free hand digging into the curve of his arm like it'll keep him from doing just as he says and ending this before it's even started. ]

[Would it be for the best if that was how this all ended? With them both getting what they seemingly wanted and then never bothering to speak to one another again? Wouldn't it be easier to forget without the sight of the other's constantly returning to serve as a reminder? To never hear that voice again, knowing that his mind would always recall the way it sounded when it deepened when words turned to moans and whines and pants.

Maybe. Possibly. Definitely.

Yet some part of him wants to hold on to this, wants to hold on to Prompto like some sweet hidden secret that only the two of them will ever be aware of. Wants everything to appear normal and usual on the surface, but dig any deeper and the darkness would reveal it's self.

But it gets pushed aside, trampled down back into the portion of his brain that's currently completely shut down and incapable of performing rational thought. Feelings could only ever complicate everything, and this was already far from simple.

The sound that falls from his lips is a deep chuckle that carries little amusement, full of prideful acknowledgement that he truly was that talented when it came to playing a body like it was nothing more than a well-learned instrument. Perhaps he should relent, move away and allow Prompto time to cool down, to catch his breath and keep what he's warning against from happening.

But he doesn't.

Lips press against skin one final time before he shifts away, just enough to put enough space between them for him to lower himself onto his knees, hands placed on eac thigh to spread them wide. One minute they're there, squeezing softly and teasing and the next they're slipping beneath that waistband and tugging downwards eagerly, teeth sinking into the expanse of his bottom lip as his goal finally sprung free.

Little more than a glance passes in way of warning, eyes darkened with fire and lust before his head dips forward, tongue lapping over the thick head, dipping into the slit and tasing the salty precum that had gathered there.]

[ every time something else happens, he rethinks his position on life and how terrible this is. it's honestly the worst because he already feels like he's falling down some sort of hole that he'll never be able to come back from. that he's attracted to ezio should speak volumes, and the irony of it is? they hadn't actually met in person before this. it had always been texts or pictures or anything else, but now... he doesn't know. he has no real idea, and he's afraid to ask.

so, he just swallows it down and pants out another sharp sound when he draws away.

being free of his pants earns ezio another breathy gasp, and prompto slaps a hand down on the table to brace himself when he watches the other man lower himself to the ground between his legs. he's shaking when their eyes meet. he's shaking when he leans close and he can feel his breath on his skin. he's shaking when the heat of ezio's mouth slides over him, and there's nothing he can really do except enjoy it.

the breath is nearly punched out of him, and he curls his fingers in an effort to center himself, trying to think of anything other than the man going down on him. but it's a poor attempt, his other hand reaching out to rest it against his hair before sliding between the strands and gripping almost too tight. prompto's given up on composure and whatever shame is still circulating through him, shifting his hips forward as he gently urges him down to take what he wants. it'll be a thing to remember when he comes in the next three minutes, but he's given up on caring about that too. the most he does is mumble ezio's name under his breath, encouraging him with every noise that slips from him. ]

( ic contact ) / duplicity

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