He whimpered at the words, the idea of Gladio's dick so far down his throat he couldn't even breathe. A thought that should - had in the past - fill him with panic. To be that much at someone else's mercy, to be that far under someone else's control. Except it's Gladio and he trusts him. Implicitly. Completely. And so no, there's no flash of panic, there's no pulling away. There's just that whimper and a slight nod of his head before Prompto opened his mouth up more, inviting Gladio to find out just how far he could make it.

One of Prompto's hands moves to Gladio's thigh, fingers curled into the skin there for balance. His eyes still upward toward Gladio, even as his other hand moved to wrap his fingers around his own cock.

And he doesn't answer because he knows the answer is written all over his face. Please - do it - fuck my throat raw until I can't even breathe, can't even think, can't even see straight and until there's nothing but you.