burstmodes | ( ic contact ) / duplicity

( ic contact ) / duplicity

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[ there are only two things that should be known about prompto, and they are this: he is loud and he is very eager to please. he puts everyone else before himself almost always, ignoring his own discomfort or stress because, in the end, nothing else matters but those things. it's something that barrels itself to the forefront of his thoughts just before ezio causes him to see stars, the sharpness of it nearly overpowering the hot sensation of his mouth and the wonderful pull of his fingers. maybe that's why he bites down on his lip to muffle whatever sound he pulls from his throat, gasping for breath and pushing so hard against the other man's scalp that he's sure he's hurting him. it's a tinge of guilt bleeding into the pleasure, and he doesn't know what to do with it. he doesn't know what to do with any of this except hold on and hope that he doesn't look as amateur as he feels. ]

A–ah, I'm so — [ doomed. completely and utterly because it's so hot, and he does the stupidest thing right in the middle of it, glancing down to catch a glimpse of the way his cock slides and disappears into ezio's mouth. ] I'm gonna ...

[ the words catch in his throat, and he doesn't know if he's dying or just suffering from some weird kind of seizure when he comes. it's probably not even three minutes, a quick inhale that nearly suffocates him because he can't catch his breath, and it's like he's never even done this before or ever had oral. which is embarrassing, and he'll think about it when he can even speak again. but his entire body reacts, thighs clenching and hands pushing against the shape of ezio's skull to hold him there in a silent plea not to move, not to stop, not to look at him.

his entire body is flushed, sweat beading down the back of his neck, and when it's over, he sags onto the table, wondering if he's just going to melt into the floor and live there forever. in fact, he can't even find anything to say, especially after hitting his orgasm literally a minute after they'd started. but maybe it's fine. maybe it's okay. he'd just need a few minutes and then – well, he'd be sure to return the favor somehow. ]

[It should be illegal to feel as prideful as he does right now. To have your ego expand this much in such a short span of time, to have it boasted so beautifully and eagerly should surely be a crime. There were so many things that Ezio was good at, so many activities that he could perform with practiced ease. Being particularly pleasing in bed was of them - especially when it came to using his mouth.

The fact that it takes less than those three minutes and it was his mouth that caused it did unreal things to his confidence, sending it soaring directly into cockiness.

Those fingers wrapped so tightly into his hair it felt as though it would give way under the force did something unreal to his body. Had him leaning away from the pull, had him sighing in pleasure as the pain turned into a dull, pleasant ache that would linger in the morning. Prompto's voice barely breaks through the fog formed by deep concentration, the only words of warning to ease of or take him in deeper.

It hits the back of his throat and he swallows it down, thick, pulsating spurts hitting the back of his throat and sliding down with surprising ease. Everything else falls out of focus - the movements of his tongue, the thrusting of his hand - his entire being going into not looking like some virgin who's never been on their knees before and choking.

And then silently thanking whatever god is watching out for him because he doesn't. Somehow he manages to look just the right mixture of debauched and pleased with himself when he finally glances upwards, watching Prompto with a mixture of eagerness and dazed pleasure, releasing him with a loud sort of pop.]

[ this whole thing is lewd. maybe it's the only thought he has in his head right now, struggling to focus on what else he needs to do because he's pretty sure ezio just sucked his brain out through his dick, and it takes a few seconds longer that he'd like to realize he's looking up at him, that he's watching his own cock slide from the other man's mouth. there's a shudder, the fast race of his heart echoing the rhythm of his breathing as he eases his hands away and grips the edge of the table for stability. if he tried to move much more than that, he's sure his legs wouldn't work, and beyond that, there's a million different things fighting for dominance inside him. what to do, what to say. should he even do or say anything?

it's kind of a moot thing when his body's doing it on its own, reaching out to touch ezio's face and thumbing along his jaw to the corner of his mouth. stuff like this doesn't happen to people like him, but it is. right? it's not a dream? he hadn't fallen asleep after sending him a handful of dirty pictures and texts? prompto worries at the thought, eventually trying to coax ezio back onto his feet so he can wrap himself around him and kiss him regardless of the taste of himself there. the idea of speaking is very daunting right now, but... ]

Lemme take care of you too. Please –

[ he knows he sounds kind of pathetic like this, but he doesn't want to quite let go of this fantasy right now. and anyway, he'd feel like a jerk if he just left after something like that. (how people do that stuff, he doesn't know.) still, prompto's hands are running over ezio's shoulders and sliding over the front of his chest, further down so he can try to reach between his legs and at least offer a little friction. ]

[Easily. You walked away and you never looked back. Looking back was what trapped you, kept you there inside of that moment. Made things awkward when they didn't need to be. Ezio couldn't even count how many times he had walked away without uttering so much as a thank you. It didn't matter anyway, did it? It wasn't like he knew their names.

Metaphorically, the moment in which Ezio could have walked away from this encounter was the brief amount of time between the other's cock leaving his mouth and that those fingers caressing his face. Figuratively, it was then that he looked back (looked up) and he was stuck. In the blink of an eye it was over and he was sinking.

Sinking and leaning into that touch, lips parting to take the tip of Prompto's thumb between them, to graze over it with his teeth before releasing. Giving into the gentle coaxing, shifting his weight and rising to his feet. Placing one hand on either side of the other's body, boxing him in against the table as they kissed.

Prompto is speaking and it's difficult to get two brain cells to actually work together to comprehend what he's actually saying. Especially when his hands are on him, trailing heat over his skin and reaching for the hardness between his legs, providing glorious friction that has him rocking into the touch.]

How would you like me?

[ that's a loaded question if he's ever heard one. what should he say? it's like he's always stuck in that cycle of being too afraid to speak up, but time in duplicity has taught him that he can't waste the opportunity. he's pretty sure this is never going to happen again, and even if it does... what are the chances it's going to be just like this? he pants against ezio's mouth, humming out a soft approval when he gets his hand around him through fabric and gives a purposeful squeeze. ]

I, ah, I was thinking... [ which is so hard right now. he can barely get his mouth to work. ] W–well, you know, in me. But not sure you've got anything for that in the kitchen.

[ why were they in the kitchen again? prompto's having a tough time recalling that particular reason right now, but it doesn't keep him from trying to slide a little closer, trailing his mouth down along ezio's shoulder and pressing his teeth to his skin. it's not quite a bite, just the illusion of one before he sucks at the spot a bit harder than he normally would. he's beginning to understand that he kind of likes it rougher; at least a touch more than prompto's ever been used to with the few people he's been with.

it's kind of exciting, but he's also worried it's not going to be enough. he might not be enough. still, he's going to try, and he uses his other hand to pull at those thin pants, determined to get them over ezio's thighs so he can look down and – whoa, yeah. he has to be doing something sort of right if he's that hard. prompto teases his thumb against the tip, breathing the words out against the underside of ezio's jaw before he can even stop himself. ]

You're really hot. [ it's the stupidest thing to say at the wrong time, but oh well. there it is. ]

[It's too much.

It's too much. It's too close. Too intimate.

And yet all Ezio can imagine in that moment is Prompto spread out over his bed, all pale, freckles skin marked with swirling red and purple bruises. All beautiful blue eyes staring up at him as he moved, all blond, sunny hair fanned out across his pillow.

It's too much but he wants it. His entire body aches with how much he wants it. With how much he wants Prompto.

Thumb brushes over the tip of his cock and it hardens impossibly more. Breath catches within his throat at that nuzzle, and he's entirely ready to slip away, to lead Prompto to his room and do exactly as he wanted.

Until those words reach his ears and he pulls away, just enough to cup the others jaw in return, the smirk that crosses his feature entirely ego filled.]

And you're about to fuck me. [It's a distraction, a chance to pull away. To step out of the tangle of his pants, to take a step backward and gesture for Prompto to follow.]

[ the flush that sweeps over him at those words is almost extreme. it's a different sort of thing in comparison to the heat of arousal, swallowing around whatever nerves trying to creep up amidst all the desire so he can slowly slip off the table and shake off his pants onto the floor. the most embarrassing thing is going to be collecting his clothes when he leaves, but that's much later in the future. right now, it's about following ezio and trying to memorize everything about this moment because he's certain there will be no repeat of it.

would he allow himself that? he isn't quite sure, but he does make an effort to keep up.

eventually, he decides to overtake him, just enough so he can get an arm around his shoulders and haul himself close for another kiss. he doesn't want to be passive in this, not after what just happened on the kitchen table, and he bites at ezio's lower lip a little harder than he intends, sucking at it in an attempt to soothe. maybe he means it as a distraction, but there's no harm in prolonging this. right? there's a low-thrumming excitement to all of this, wrapped in the shadows and pressed to ezio so intimately that he can feel every part of him. what'll it be like when they — ]

Guess that makes me pretty lucky, huh? [ it's an absent mumble against his mouth, nipping at his lip once more before drawing away so he can give ezio a bit of a chase through his own place. he doesn't actually know where he's going, but how hard could it be to find his room? ]

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