[Nero sees what's happening in slow motion and knows it won't end well but still doesn't manage to warn his boyfriend not to do exactly that until it's a little too late. The choking is already happening. He sits up straighter to look down at Prompto, wanting to make sure he was okay before openly laughing.
His laughter is kept at a light chuckle when Prompto pulls himself up to kiss him. He doesn't shy away from the kiss at all, and lewdly slips the younger man some tongue before they pull apart.]
Mm, I can wait. [He's not complaining because he thought he'd be the one having to run to grab the lube. Nero was noticing that access to it was much better in areas in the apartment that weren't the kitchen, but this (and skipping preparatory steps) was becoming a habit. Which is not to say he'd be against taking an extra moment or so to work Prompto open with his fingers, but going very slowly with lots of lube last time had worked out alright in the end.]
You're in luck, you're just tall enough to ride. [Nero jokes, taking the lube to hurriedly slather it over his cock, stroking himself slowly to spread it--not doing a great job with not toughing himself as he waits for Prompto to come closer, gesturing with his prosthetic hand to beckon him back onto his lap. He has serious doubts about the sturdiness of the chair he's on, or would if he'd give it any substantial amount of thought. Seems like an issue to worry about in the future, and not right this moment.
He helps Prompto onto him, rubbing his hole with the excess lube from his fingers, slipping just one inside him before guiding the blond to slowly lower onto his cock.] Fuck..you feel good.
[ It's strange to compare all the other times they've fucked, but every time is always a different experience, something that Prompto thinks about in the in-between. And this one... he can't pinpoint what about it that makes it seem to exceed even that. Maybe it's because they'd sort of fought about something they'd already agreed to. Maybe it's because he's slowly beginning to accept that Nero isn't going to disappear and leave him after dropping the 'L' word on him. It's a lot of things he should probably take into account eventually.
Now, though, he's just so focused on keeping his balance – the chair isn't actually that wide or that sturdy – as Nero touches him, and a soft groan leaves him when he fingers him, hips pressing forward so that he grinds against his chest before he's being lowered down. That familiar burn earns another throaty noise, never having been the particularly quiet type. But alone, with Nero, it's even worse, and his fingers dig into his shoulders as he sinks down, trying to get his body to relax until he's seated in his lap. Even then, Prompto doesn't move much, breathing a bit ragged as he waits for everything to adjust. ]
Yeah... [ Mindless agreement, and he nuzzles along his shoulder, kissing at the indention his nails might have left. ] So show me what this ride can do.
[ His own bad joke gets a breathless laugh, rocking a little as he lifts up and tries to move. ]
[Nero thinks about being with Prompto often, to no one's surprise. Though they do it considerably less than how frequently it crosses his mind. Which--also wouldn't have shocked anyone. Sometimes he's able to keep his cool around the blond, and other times not so much. This time would be filed along with the latter category.
In moments where his feelings toward his boyfriend were so clear he could almost see their lives playing out like a feature film when he closes his eyes. Though there are moments he struggles to believe he deserves someone as incredible as Prompto, he feels none of that doubt when he's holding him by the hips waiting for him to get used to him. In the meanwhile his fingers wrap around Prompto's cock, stroking him slowly because he can't wait very long to touch him.]
There's only hard mode, and extreme. It's not really for the faint of heart. [The more this goes on the more ridiculous it becomes. Nero laughs, feeling that Prompto is rocking against him and trying to move so he helps out. One hand encouraging the blond to ride him harder despite the weak stability of the chair, while the other works out the right pace at which to stroke him. For a moment he feels pure bliss, a rare moment of clarity.
His eyes close again as he groans words of encouragement. Without realizing his body seems to glow a faint blue hue as his form changes. His skin is replaces by a harder textured covering. Not quite scale, not quite exoskeleton. His limbs and the trunk of his body thicken, along with the parts of him buried within his lover. The hand gripping Prompto's hip to encourage him now scrapes against his skin with claw-like digits rather than his fingers.
He hardly notices any of the other transformations either until he hears a loud clank of his prosthetic arm on the ground. At some point he's grown his own back. His eyes flutter open and while the scene looks almost exactly as he remembered it, anyone looking in would notice that they were a very different, unnatural color.
Floating very close behind him are two wing-like arms, casually clasped over his shoulders as if ominously waiting for something to do.]
[ He's no stranger to the sort of freaky sex they have during Cordis and the triple moons, but something about this starts to feel even weirder the more they move together.
His own eyes closed, Prompto relies on his sensation of touch to feel the way Nero rocks into him, the sounds he makes and the pressure of his hands on his hips. The cock inside him. It's all familiar and feels so, so good, reaching between them to help Nero figure out the rhythm with his hand so he gets the best of both sides of it, but slowly, he notices the slightest little things that throw off his own movements. Mostly, it's the increasing pain through his ass and back and legs, and then, when it's almost too much, he peeks at Nero to give him a questioning look.
At least, that's what he'd wanted to do. All he manages is a choked sound of disbelief at what he's seeing. ]
Fuck – [ It flies out of him so fast that he can't stop it, glancing down and suddenly feeling very, very faint. ] What the h–hell?!
[ He panics, unsure if he wants to touch him but having no choice as he tries to lift himself off his dick – that thing's inside him? how is it inside him? he's freaking out, he can feel it in his bones – and manages to get halfway there before he curses again and careens to the side, tumbling onto the hard floor with a sharp thud. His breath leaves him, but it doesn't stop him from scooting as far as back as he can and ignoring the way everything hurts. More than that, he can't stop shaking, which is making it very, very difficult to escape or try to get to his feet so he can run. ]
Dude, you're – [ Nope. He's checking out. Prompto pulls his legs up and tucks his face against his knees, arms over his head because he can't seem to breathe. ] I can't even look at you right now!
[When he speaks is voice is different than usual, sure, but he's sure he might just be a bit raspy. He doesn't understand why Prompto is looking at him like that and trying to fight him to get away.
Nero wants to tell him to calm down and hold him close, but in all the commotion Prompto manages to hoist himself off and fall onto the kitchen floor, scooting away from him like he'd grown horns or something. He reaches for his boyfriend and only then notices his arm is...not his arm. It startles him enough that he jerks back, nearly knocking himself over but the additional transluscent blue arms stop him from falling and give him stability.
His hands touch his face, hair, and then horns slowly. There's a look of horror on his face that mirrors Prompto's before he turns away from him to look at his reflection in the microwave. Nero wants to scream but he can't bring air into his lungs so he just looks at his boyfriend apologetically for a moment and rushes out of the kitchen to lock himself in the bathroom (after a lot of fumbling with the lock, his claws are big).
He doesn't know what the fuck just happened, or why, and it's killed his arousal more quickly than the speed of light.] No no no. What the fuck is happening to me?! [Nero stands in front of the mirror trying to make sense of it, or will it away, but nothing works. Prompto might hear some loud crashes coming from inside if he's not run out of the apartment by then.]
[ Without the added help of moonlacing, everything is starting to ache like he was run over, and if he looks, there are very noticeable claw marks along his hips and thighs where Nero had gripped him. But he doesn't look. He doesn't do anything for a long time, every muscle in his body clenching as he tries to get himself to calm down.
It's fine, right? This was just some... some thing they would get over because it wasn't going to happen again. Or would it?
He doesn't even know what's happening.
Which is probably what forces him to finally move, hissing softly at the pain that's radiating through him, and he crawls forward to grab at Nero's shirt and pull it on so he's not completely naked when he tries to stand. Prompto has to use the edge of the door for support, but the more he uses his legs, the more tolerable it is to move. Sort of. At least he manages to get to the bathroom before he hears whatever's going on inside, and his first instinct, even if it might be to run away, is to grab onto the knob and try to open it. ]
Nero? [ He feels faint, but... no point turning back now. ] What's going on in there?
[The crashing sounds from behind the door become more infrequent as Nero gains some amount of awareness of the spectral limbs behind him and isn’t constantly knocking things over anymore while he tries to figure it out—to no success.
He’s not thinking about much outside of how mortified Prompto was and how he doesn’t know what to do or if he can even change back. It wasn’t that time of the month for moonblessing changes, so it had to be something else. Even if he suspects it has to do with the Sparda blood he has, there’s no proof to that theory and it wouldn’t solve the issue of reverting him to normal.
Nero doesn’t really even hear the first time Prompto calls to him or tries the door. He’s just trying to find that sinking feeling and the uncomfortable onset of a panic attack.]
[ There's a sigh, and he leans forward to rest his head against the door, hand still around the knob. So whatever had happened hadn't been something he'd imagined or anything Nero had been aware of before, but... ]
We can't figure it out if you keep hiding. [ Not that he actually wants to see him again like that, but Prompto's just going to swallow it down. Weirder things have happened, he has to remind himself. Over and over again. ] Do you... should I do anything?
[ Maybe they should have taken a break. Maybe they should have let all of this wash over them to get back to the way things were. Or something. Prompto doesn't have any clue, and on top of that, his body really hurts. It's like he's been fighting daemons and wandering around Eos for a week straight with no real break aside from sleeping on the hard ground of a haven, but even then, he'd never fucked someone (something?) on top of that to the point of pain.
He sags a little, tapping at the door with his unoccupied hand. ]
I don’t know what we’re gonna figure out from making you look at me like that again either.
[Nero never thought he had such a problem with being different, but he never looked this different before. He’s not sure what to do or even if he wants to let Prompto help.What could even be done?]
If you want to leave, I’ll text you when I’m back to normal. I’m sorry if I hurt you.. [He starts to lean his forehead against the door but is stopped by his horns and looks down at his hands. How did he even grow his hand back? That wasn’t possible, was it??]
Maybe it’s just my genetics catching up with me. [Eventually he unlocks the door but he doesn’t open it. Nero sits on the edge of the bathtub, waiting to see if the blond might try the door again.]
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His laughter is kept at a light chuckle when Prompto pulls himself up to kiss him. He doesn't shy away from the kiss at all, and lewdly slips the younger man some tongue before they pull apart.]
Mm, I can wait. [He's not complaining because he thought he'd be the one having to run to grab the lube. Nero was noticing that access to it was much better in areas in the apartment that weren't the kitchen, but this (and skipping preparatory steps) was becoming a habit. Which is not to say he'd be against taking an extra moment or so to work Prompto open with his fingers, but going very slowly with lots of lube last time had worked out alright in the end.]
You're in luck, you're just tall enough to ride. [Nero jokes, taking the lube to hurriedly slather it over his cock, stroking himself slowly to spread it--not doing a great job with not toughing himself as he waits for Prompto to come closer, gesturing with his prosthetic hand to beckon him back onto his lap. He has serious doubts about the sturdiness of the chair he's on, or would if he'd give it any substantial amount of thought. Seems like an issue to worry about in the future, and not right this moment.
He helps Prompto onto him, rubbing his hole with the excess lube from his fingers, slipping just one inside him before guiding the blond to slowly lower onto his cock.] Fuck..you feel good.
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Now, though, he's just so focused on keeping his balance – the chair isn't actually that wide or that sturdy – as Nero touches him, and a soft groan leaves him when he fingers him, hips pressing forward so that he grinds against his chest before he's being lowered down. That familiar burn earns another throaty noise, never having been the particularly quiet type. But alone, with Nero, it's even worse, and his fingers dig into his shoulders as he sinks down, trying to get his body to relax until he's seated in his lap. Even then, Prompto doesn't move much, breathing a bit ragged as he waits for everything to adjust. ]
Yeah... [ Mindless agreement, and he nuzzles along his shoulder, kissing at the indention his nails might have left. ] So show me what this ride can do.
[ His own bad joke gets a breathless laugh, rocking a little as he lifts up and tries to move. ]
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In moments where his feelings toward his boyfriend were so clear he could almost see their lives playing out like a feature film when he closes his eyes. Though there are moments he struggles to believe he deserves someone as incredible as Prompto, he feels none of that doubt when he's holding him by the hips waiting for him to get used to him. In the meanwhile his fingers wrap around Prompto's cock, stroking him slowly because he can't wait very long to touch him.]
There's only hard mode, and extreme. It's not really for the faint of heart. [The more this goes on the more ridiculous it becomes. Nero laughs, feeling that Prompto is rocking against him and trying to move so he helps out. One hand encouraging the blond to ride him harder despite the weak stability of the chair, while the other works out the right pace at which to stroke him. For a moment he feels pure bliss, a rare moment of clarity.
His eyes close again as he groans words of encouragement. Without realizing his body seems to glow a faint blue hue as his form changes. His skin is replaces by a harder textured covering. Not quite scale, not quite exoskeleton. His limbs and the trunk of his body thicken, along with the parts of him buried within his lover. The hand gripping Prompto's hip to encourage him now scrapes against his skin with claw-like digits rather than his fingers.
He hardly notices any of the other transformations either until he hears a loud clank of his prosthetic arm on the ground. At some point he's grown his own back. His eyes flutter open and while the scene looks almost exactly as he remembered it, anyone looking in would notice that they were a very different, unnatural color.
Floating very close behind him are two wing-like arms, casually clasped over his shoulders as if ominously waiting for something to do.]
What was that?
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His own eyes closed, Prompto relies on his sensation of touch to feel the way Nero rocks into him, the sounds he makes and the pressure of his hands on his hips. The cock inside him. It's all familiar and feels so, so good, reaching between them to help Nero figure out the rhythm with his hand so he gets the best of both sides of it, but slowly, he notices the slightest little things that throw off his own movements. Mostly, it's the increasing pain through his ass and back and legs, and then, when it's almost too much, he peeks at Nero to give him a questioning look.
At least, that's what he'd wanted to do. All he manages is a choked sound of disbelief at what he's seeing. ]
Fuck – [ It flies out of him so fast that he can't stop it, glancing down and suddenly feeling very, very faint. ] What the h–hell?!
[ He panics, unsure if he wants to touch him but having no choice as he tries to lift himself off his dick – that thing's inside him? how is it inside him? he's freaking out, he can feel it in his bones – and manages to get halfway there before he curses again and careens to the side, tumbling onto the hard floor with a sharp thud. His breath leaves him, but it doesn't stop him from scooting as far as back as he can and ignoring the way everything hurts. More than that, he can't stop shaking, which is making it very, very difficult to escape or try to get to his feet so he can run. ]
Dude, you're – [ Nope. He's checking out. Prompto pulls his legs up and tucks his face against his knees, arms over his head because he can't seem to breathe. ] I can't even look at you right now!
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Nero wants to tell him to calm down and hold him close, but in all the commotion Prompto manages to hoist himself off and fall onto the kitchen floor, scooting away from him like he'd grown horns or something. He reaches for his boyfriend and only then notices his arm is...not his arm. It startles him enough that he jerks back, nearly knocking himself over but the additional transluscent blue arms stop him from falling and give him stability.
His hands touch his face, hair, and then horns slowly. There's a look of horror on his face that mirrors Prompto's before he turns away from him to look at his reflection in the microwave. Nero wants to scream but he can't bring air into his lungs so he just looks at his boyfriend apologetically for a moment and rushes out of the kitchen to lock himself in the bathroom (after a lot of fumbling with the lock, his claws are big).
He doesn't know what the fuck just happened, or why, and it's killed his arousal more quickly than the speed of light.] No no no. What the fuck is happening to me?! [Nero stands in front of the mirror trying to make sense of it, or will it away, but nothing works. Prompto might hear some loud crashes coming from inside if he's not run out of the apartment by then.]
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It's fine, right? This was just some... some thing they would get over because it wasn't going to happen again. Or would it?
He doesn't even know what's happening.
Which is probably what forces him to finally move, hissing softly at the pain that's radiating through him, and he crawls forward to grab at Nero's shirt and pull it on so he's not completely naked when he tries to stand. Prompto has to use the edge of the door for support, but the more he uses his legs, the more tolerable it is to move. Sort of. At least he manages to get to the bathroom before he hears whatever's going on inside, and his first instinct, even if it might be to run away, is to grab onto the knob and try to open it. ]
Nero? [ He feels faint, but... no point turning back now. ] What's going on in there?
[ And again, he tries to open the door. ]
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He’s not thinking about much outside of how mortified Prompto was and how he doesn’t know what to do or if he can even change back. It wasn’t that time of the month for moonblessing changes, so it had to be something else. Even if he suspects it has to do with the Sparda blood he has, there’s no proof to that theory and it wouldn’t solve the issue of reverting him to normal.
Nero doesn’t really even hear the first time Prompto calls to him or tries the door. He’s just trying to find that sinking feeling and the uncomfortable onset of a panic attack.]
D-don’t come in! Something’s wrong with me!!
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We can't figure it out if you keep hiding. [ Not that he actually wants to see him again like that, but Prompto's just going to swallow it down. Weirder things have happened, he has to remind himself. Over and over again. ] Do you... should I do anything?
[ Maybe they should have taken a break. Maybe they should have let all of this wash over them to get back to the way things were. Or something. Prompto doesn't have any clue, and on top of that, his body really hurts. It's like he's been fighting daemons and wandering around Eos for a week straight with no real break aside from sleeping on the hard ground of a haven, but even then, he'd never fucked someone (something?) on top of that to the point of pain.
He sags a little, tapping at the door with his unoccupied hand. ]
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[Nero never thought he had such a problem with being different, but he never looked this different before. He’s not sure what to do or even if he wants to let Prompto help.What could even be done?]
If you want to leave, I’ll text you when I’m back to normal. I’m sorry if I hurt you.. [He starts to lean his forehead against the door but is stopped by his horns and looks down at his hands. How did he even grow his hand back? That wasn’t possible, was it??]
Maybe it’s just my genetics catching up with me. [Eventually he unlocks the door but he doesn’t open it. Nero sits on the edge of the bathtub, waiting to see if the blond might try the door again.]