downrightfierce | 008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

and i cannot get you out

Prompto was pretty sure he was an idiot. No… not pretty sure. He knew he was an idiot.

And really… Cid and his never ending taunts to the marks on his neck were not helping. Nor was the fact he fucking hurt. He felt a little bit like he'd gotten hit by a truck. Or, more accurately, that he'd almost died, had his side torn to shreds and then decided to have some of the most intense sex of his life. Yeah… he was definitely feeling it.

But as much as a mess as his body was, it had nothing on his state of mind.

Because he had had some of the most intense sex of his life with Gladio, proceeded to spend the night with him cuddling, and then the morning he'd tried to fucking high five the other man, thanked him for the sex with a thumbs up and tripped over his own damn two feet as he tried to hightail it out of the caravan. Not exactly his smoothest moment.

“You. Are. Such. An. Idiot.” He mumbled and let his head fall onto the workbench. Gave it a few more hits with his forehead for good measure and realized he'd forgotten all about Cid for half a minute, at least until the older man started to laugh.

“Well I ain't gonna argue you on that one, kid, but you think you can keep the dramatics to a minimum here… we got work to do,” Cid said and pointed the end of a screwdriver at the pile of weapons on the end of the bench.

Prompto lifted his head. Sighed. Straightened up and grabbed the gun next to him. If nothing else it could maybe distract him from his own idiocy for a while. Distract him from that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had completely fucked everything up with his inability to be normal that morning. Distract him from how he could still feel Gladio's hands all over him, how the marks on his body still felt the ghost of lips, how he could still feel Gladio in him every time he moved.

Distract him from how he wanted more.

And it worked. For a while. He got lost in the work with Cid, found his mind clearing as he focused on the repairs and modifications, felt better as he took something broken and made it better. Worked at least until his phone buzzed against the bench where he had plugged it in to charge. He glanced up from his work and seeing that it was a text from Cindy he put his tool down and grabbed the phone.

Hey, Heartbreaker… looks like tall, dark, and handsome is getting ready to take off… thought you might like to know

The panic was almost immediate. Gladio was… leaving!?!? And that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to overt take him, felt massive all the sudden as his throat went dry and he could barely swallow against the hard lump caught in the back of it. His hands started to shake… and he knew from experience that this could quickly go into a full out panic attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe…

Five things to see; gun, screwdriver, phone, hammer, Cid. His eyes darted to each in kind. Four things he could touch; metal, workbench, denim, his own arm. And so his hand moved from gun to table top to his knee to arm. Three things to smell; gunpowder, the terribly fruity shampoo he'd borrowed from Cindy when he'd gotten back to the garage, the smoke from Cid’s pipe on the table. Two things he could hear; Cid drumming his fingers on the workbench… the blood as it rushed in his own ears and one thing he could taste was the bile that threatened in the back of his throat.

Fuck.

Prompto scrambled off the stool and ignoring Cid’s concerned voice behind him he bolted from the back room and to where he knew Gladio had parked his bike. He stopped a few feet short and now there had no idea what to even say.

“You're leaving?” he asked after a moment. His voice thin and tight.

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A motion below caught Gladio's eye and he shifted just enough to be able to catch sight of Prompto pleasuring himself, bringing out a low growl of desire at the sight of it. "Can't even keep your hands off yourself? Good. Think I could watch you all night, touching yourself. The only downside is that in the shower I can't turn you around and have you in my mouth, too."

And he meant it. Wouldn't have mind stretching out their bodies across the mattress in Prompto's room and proving he could give as good as he got. As much as he had always wanted to protect Prompto when they were younger, he wanted to fondle him now, fuck him cradle him close fall asleep with his arms wrapped around him... and the entire idea felt twisted in his head. It was all last night, the circumstances of their sleeping arrangement, had to be, but having felt it, it was like some subtle drug in his veins. Urging, urging for more of it because the heady milk of real human contact was a deep draught to drink.

He groaned, the noise vibrating around Gladio's cock at his words. And they only served to make his hand pump himself a little bit faster at the images it brought up. At the idea of Gladio's mouth on him in such an intimate way.

His own mouth moved back and forth against Gladio's length, a bit more sliding between his lips each time. Even with the night before it was still a sense of shock somehow at the size of the other man. He'd always assumed of course, but it was different to know for sure. Different when his mouth was wrapped around it and it wasn't just a thought in the back of his mind.

Prompto pulled back entirely for a moment, sucked a breath between swollen lips. His hand that wasn't working himself gave a few thrusts to Gladio's dick as he looked up at the other. “Gonna come for me, big guy? Want you to come down the back of my throat…” his voice sounded foreign in the echo of the shower, raw and rough. And not really waiting for a reply he sunk his mouth back around Gladio's cock.

That might have been the single hottest thing anyone had ever said to him. Hearing Prompto, who didn't even sound like Prompto with that sexy roughened voice, tell him to come down the back of his throat... Gladio shuddered, bracing himself against the wall with one hand and the other gripping Prompto's hair tight. His eyes stayed half-lidded though as he watched his own cock disappear down Prompto's throat as through his last few thrusts, he took away some of Prompto's control and slid down deep, never any deeper than his hand restricted him.

It wouldn't be more than a handful before he gave a warning sound, then did as he was asked, what he wanted, cock nestled deep into that warm, willing throat, shuddering as he came with his teeth grit firmly together, mind briefly going wonderfully blank.

He whimpered at the tug of his hair, but definitely not in a stop way. No, it was perfect. The sharp pain that radiated from his scalp in contrast to the desire that burned along every inch of his skin. Perfect.

And he surprised even himself with how far Gladio could push himself in during those last few thrusts. A flicker of something akin to pride in his eyes as he felt Gladio's cock deep in his throat. As he watched the man above him start to completely unravel. And fuck he could watch Gladio come like that over and over.

He pulled back as Gladio spilled into his throat, swallowed and had a quick moment of thank fuck when he managed not to choke. His hand still wrapped around his own dick only took a few more thrusts to have him being pulled under by his own orgasm with a hoarse moan. He stilled for a moment or two after, breath ragged under the sound of the water running and then he laughed softly, a bit giddy in the come down, as he reached a hand up for Gladio to help him back to his feet.

Fuck. Prompto came just from all of this and a bit of help from his hand. Kid liked it that much? (Kid was such not a fair term anymore but his mind still held the label.) His thumb stroked over Prompto's neck and his voice was a rasp. "Do you have any idea how good you look, coming on your knees, taking that much of me? So damn good." He pet back over Prompto's hair, smirking at the laugh.

"...good to hear you laugh." His hand wrapped around Prompto's and hauled him up, then right into a deep kiss. Didn't give a shit about the taste of himself on Prompto's lips.

What wasn't there to like about it though. Gladio was hot as fuck when he came, the fact he made that happen? Yeah, that worked for him. More than a little. Add in what has officially been dubbed Gladio's Sex Voice™ praising him and he is more than gone.

He's easy to haul up, still light despite the muscle he's put on over the years. And he's quick to slip around around Gladio's larger frame, skin pressed into skin and a soft moan into the kiss. Fuck but he could get used to this, the feeling of being so wrapped up in someone like he was in Gladio in that moment. Which was a scary thought.

But he let himself get lost in the kiss, lost in Gladio. A hand slid up his back, over the black ink lines and threaded into the hair that had gotten longer over the years. He tugged gently, letting his lips part from Gladio's and pressed a soft kiss Gladio's jaw as he tugged his head back lightly. A grin before he let go and ducked his head under the spray of water for a moment. And while the shower had room, it was still a bit of a tight squeeze with Gladio. He'd washed his hair the night before so it didn't need to be done again. There was a thought, sort of swirled in the back of his mind of grabbing the shampoo regardless, but running it through Gladio's hair instead of his own, letting his fingers run through the strands and dig into his scalp. But it felt daunting somehow. Too intimate despite the fact he just had Gladio's dick down his throat.

So instead he leaned up, pressed a brief kiss to Gladio's lips before he spoke. "I'll let you get cleaned up," he said as he slipped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself. Though he didn't make a move to leave the room itself.

Then Prompto was just gone from his arms before he could even stop it, and Gladio took a moment before letting out a breath, hiding down the feeling that was brought about by the sudden loss of warmth. It was far from the first time he'd pushed down something similar, so it wasn't so difficult to do. (A lie, in a way, because it was harder than he could remember it being before.)

"Mmm." A quick sound, then Gladio went to work. His hair was significantly longer, long enough he could pull it back, but right now it was down around his face. There was little thought to it as he grabbed the shampoo and started working it through his hair, well aware he was still on display. Made for quite the sight with water pouring down over his body, unconcerned about his state of dress, but his mind rushed from thought to thought.

What did it all mean to Prompto? That was the answer he didn't have, but confused him the most. That confession in the parking lot, the need in his voice... Gladio scrubbed away days worth of dirt and grease out of his hair, digging in his nails to really get at his scalp, before tilting his head back to get the water running through it. "Like what you see?" he asked, smirking.

Hiding.

The thing was he didn't know what it meant to him. A constant flip flop between it was too much with it wasn't enough. A steady dichotomy of the fear of falling more into whatever this was between them but also the fear of it going away. He felt raw and vulnerable in a way he hadn't since - since a time he was trying really hard not to think about.

And it wasn't as though Prompto hadn't nursed his fair share of crushes over the years, people that had filtered in and out that he had found attractive and charming for a short time. People he'd given into for a night, some he still talked to some who were long gone. But it was different when he looked over at Gladio at the words. It felt different. There was a want there of course. One he was familiar with, the want to get lost inside someone else even if only for a few hours. The want to drown out the world with sex and all it entailed. But it was more. So much more. And he knew it was dumb. That this was what it was - friends blowing off steam with sex and he was stupid for even entertaining the idea of it being more. Both because of his own issues and because why the hell would someone like Gladio want more than that from him.

But still it was there. Still it tugged at him and shocked him with just how quickly it had snuck up on him.

He hopped up on the counter, towel wrapped around his waist and toes grazing against the tile floor as he gave a smirk of his own to Gladio's. "You know it," he answered and then did a little motion with his finger for Gladio to do a little turn.

Then again, Prompto... why the hell would someone like Gladio want even that much with him? It hadn't been something before, not even the hint of it, right? Things, and people, changed. They had all changed more than most since they had set out from Insomnia, that fateful day.

For Gladio, if he had to concentrate on those feelings, he knew certain things. He knew that something had changed between now and then because Prompto had gone from the gangly friend-brother to his mind being more capable of classifying him as something sensual instead of just brotherhood. Maybe the time apart had given him that clarity. Not that he hadn't, occasionally, thought of Prompto as cute, but that... that had been the kind of thing he couldn't act on. Maybe if sometimes had started before they had left on that trip, maybe, but during? Different. So he was telling himself.

He hated these kinds of emotions that twisted through him as painful as a knife, too complex to hold onto properly or understand. It was part of why he had left Ignis and Prompto those years back because it had all turned back on itself, turned into an anger that it felt like he couldn't control. He'd lashed out at Noct, before the end. Lashed out at Ignis in the time afterward. Lashed out even at his own sister. He'd left for their safety, he had believed.

He knew it was a lie, now. He'd left for his own cowardice.

Gladio huffed a laugh at the motion and did as requested, giving Prompto one hell of a view before he grabbed the soap, scrubbing it over his skin. Never remembered how good it felt to get clean than the rare moments he got to actually bath up properly. "It's been months since a hot shower. Forgot how damn good it feels."

It had… hurt. Gladio leaving. In some bone aching way that had settled over him in the wake of it. In the knowing that without Noct they weren't enough to keep each other. This little family he had found for himself ripped apart at the seams from the moment it had even been put together really. So yeah, it had hurt. He understood of course, why Gladio had left. And Prompto himself had followed not long after, Lestallum for Hammerhead for a supply run and when he'd found himself being useful in the smaller outpost than he had been in Lestallum it had seemed an easy decision to stay.

But people didn't stay in Hammerhead. Not really. Outside the handful of permanent residents and really whatever this thing with Gladio was Prompto knew it would be short lived. He'd stayed for the moment but Prompto knew he'd leave again.

And he wanted to be angry about it. About Gladio having left in the first place, the tensions that had radiated between all of them leading up to it. But he was so damn tired of being angry. And as Gladio laughed and did as requested it was just easier to give a laugh of his own, a low whistle in the space of the bathroom.

“Just don't go telling everyone,” he started, his voice light. “We’ll have a riot on our hands for holding out on the hot water.” He turned from his spot on the counter to look in the mirror and raked his hands through his hair. He'd have to cut it again soon, which was always a dicey affair.

In the end, he wouldn't have been surprised if Prompto, and Ignis, were angry with him. It was something he would have accepted because it was fair. He had been the beginning of the cracks that should have destroyed their friendship, yet... this was proof it wasn't beyond repair. It had been changed, cracked, but not completely gone.

He was grateful as anything for that. It would have been another marker on his grave to have been the murderer of their brotherhood.

Gladio reached over and turned the water off, running his fingers through his hair a few times to get out the tangles from washing it, then grabbed for a towel. A brisk drying, body first, then his hair, before he tucked it around his waist. When he came to peer into the mirror, he had to bend over, but he did rub his thumb over his jaw. "Been needing to clean this up for a while, but ain't doing shit without a mirror and time."

...Might take the chance to slap Prompto's backside sticking out.

He jumped a little with a hey! at the slap to his ass, but there was a laugh that was quick follow. "Come on now, that's a sensitive area today," he pointed out with a wink and moved to let Gladio at the mirror.

"Yeah you're looking a little mountain man-y," he pointed out and sat on the closed toilet seat lid. A small shrug. "Not that it's not a good look, because it is, but..." another little shrug. "There's like good mountain man-y and then I haven't shaved in two years mountain man-y..." he was rambling.

"I promised you a massage, I remember." Gladio's smirk showed that he definitely had no problem in that ass slap and probably would do it again if he had the chance.

"Speaking of," Gladio said as he pulled out the small shaving kit, the straight razor flashing out before he checked the edge, "see you're starting to not do the shaving thing, either. Bit of a mess, kid." His voice was teasing, looking amused but actually serious in his offer.

He had a bit of soap in there and he worked up a lather, running the lather over his cheeks and neck. "I think I can rock the mountain man look, though."

"Hey, it's distinguished!" he tried to counter but ended up scratching sheepishly at the back of his neck. A shrug and he looked up at Gladio. "I uh - ran out of a razors like four months back," and really it's probably pathetic that it even took four months to get where he was. Which was patchy and admittedly fairly terrible even with all his posturing to the opposite.

"You could probably pull off any look though, Gladio, I mean... come on," said with a light chuckle and he made quick work of tossing his boxers back on but didn't make a move to get dressed much past that.

"Distinguished? Yeah that's a word for it." He reached over and brushed his thumb over Prompto's stubble, silently being like yep, peach fuzz, this is what he grows in the space of a day, but just gave a quiet laugh. "Here. If you want to clean it up." He folded the straight razor back up and offered it over to Prompto, the concept that the blond might not know how to use it not even crossing his mind.

Those shitty disposables couldn't handle his beard, and his father had taught him at a young age how to shave with the straight razor. You won't always have electric laying around, and besides, it's a hell of a weapon if you ever need to shove it in your boot. He could still remember staring up at his father, there in the safe, warm comfort of his parent's bathroom back at home, surprised to hear that but nodding as if he completely understood.

Now he did. All the little things he couldn't go back and thank his father for.

He made a bit of a face at Gladio as he poked fun. A shake of his head at the offered razor. "Oh come on, dude," he started with his tone light and self deprecating. "You really think it's a good idea to let me anywhere near my neck with that kind of blade," finished with a small laugh.

Which, in addition to pointing out his ability to trip over nothing on a good day level of clumsiness at times, also means he has no freaking clue how to use that thank you very much. His dad hadn't really been around enough, or cared enough really, to take the time to pass along any sort of sage man knowledge. And given he hadn't though the world would end up how it was, he never sought out how to shave with anything other than the easy to use disposables himself.

For a long few seconds, Gladio eyed Prompto over, then a warm smirk touched his lips and he gestured at the toilet. "Sit." Pointed and simple, trusting that the other would do so. He continued on his preparation, but it wouldn't be for him.

Hot water on the cloth, a bit of shaving soap to foam up, then Gladio came over, looming over Prompto. "Chin up, then don't move."

He'd wrap the hot cloth over Prompto's chin, cheeks, and neck.

He huffed a questioning sort of sound but followed the directions anyways. Sitting on the lid of the toilet and chin jutted up it was only when Gladio came back with the cloth did he really clue into what was happening.

Gladio was going to shave the shitty, patchy, terrible chin fuzz he had going on.

It was at once utterly endearing, kind of hot and downright terrifying. Any by far one of the most intimate things he'd ever done in his life. He forced himself to stay present as he realized Gladio was moments away from holding a blade to his skin, forced himself to remember where he was, who he was with. Shoved the panic at the vulnerability to the back of his mind.

Gladio, this was Gladio… a silent mantra that ran through his mind.

First, Gladio slid the cloth around Prompto's neck, letting the wet heat soak into the skin. "...gotta get your skin wet and the heat softens everything up. Trying to shave dry you might as well be shaving with sandpaper." He chuckled, not really aware of just how terrified Prompto really was in that moment. "Plus I've got some soap I save just for shaving - gotta find another bar, sometime, almost out - makes it so the razor glides."

It was so strange, the idea of teaching someone their age how to shave, but it came easier than he expected. A lot of that, he suspected, was because it was Prompto and it just was hard to be awkward around him. His fingers slowly massaged the cloth in against Prompto's skin, watching him as he stood there. "You probably could manage something on your chin, if you let it grow." His thumb rubbed across that chin.

He was quiet as Gladio talked, his eyes on the other as he worked. It was nice, letting someone take care of him. Nice to have something to focus on other than the sad state of affairs their world had turned out to be. And if he was feeling lame for this impromptu lesson he didn't show it. Didn't much feel it either. Not with Gladio.

There's a wrinkle of his nose at the suggestion of growing it out. “Yeah but I'd have to get through the gross patchy thing first,” though he'd thought about it a few times. “Might make me not look twelve though,” with a shrug and a little laugh.

His hands rested on his knees, fingers flexed but not nearly as tight as he'd expected. But still… “Can you - can you keep talking, when you start,” asked softly, asked because he wants to keep this the way it feels right then. Like being taken care of by Gladio was nice and not fall into the traps of his own mind.

"You don't look twelve," Gladio grumbled, frowning down at Prompto about that before pointing out, "I'm not into teens." His thumb brushed over a bit of cheek above the towel before he pulled it away and slid that thumb along the rougher part of the cheek, nodding in approval. After he put the cloth aside, he worked the soap in between calloused palms until he had some foam to work with and patted it along where the razor would need to go.

The request made him raise an eyebrow, but he just gave a nod. "Sure." As simple as that, though he wondered why. His gaze asked the dozen questions his lips didn't, but he finally did give into one easier one. "So, you keeping the soul patch or am I getting rid of it?" He grabbed the razor and flipped it open, letting Prompto make the final decision on the bit of hair. "Or I could clean you up and leave it, see what you think, and trash it if it doesn't look good."

He knew it was an odd request, but still asked. The situation playing into some still very vivid memories of blades - albeit quite larger ones - being held close to his throat with his life gleefully threatened. And while Ardyn had certainly made a convincing Noctis it had still been off in subtle ways. The inflection of a word, the tone of a sentence, a word choice that Noctis never would have dreamed of making.

So yeah, it would be better to hear Gladio talk.

Prompto shrugged a little though at the question asked of him. “Second,” he answered after a moment. “I kind of like the chin fuzz,” aka the only part of his facial hair that hadn't come in as a patchy mess.

Gladio knew basically nothing of Prompto's time away from the group, no more than Prompto knew about his, but his didn't come with the quiet, subtle signs of trauma that Prompto still carried with him, nor had they found Gladio hurt (...well, the scar on his forehead but-) or bound up in an enemy lair. Yet it didn't feel like he had the right to ask or even to offer up an ear. If Prompto wanted to talk about it, Gladio imagined he would.

Then again, he never would have imagined Prompto capable of keeping in a secret like he had about what he was for all of those years. It didn't change who Prompto was, not for any of them, but it did tell Gladio back then that there was more to Prompto than met the eye.

"Alright, alright. Let me clean you up and maybe you can make the fuzz look decent." Gladio chuckled and lightly took hold of that chin, looking over the angles of Prompto's face. "It's all about the angle you hold it at. Gotta put it at just the right angle so it slides without chaffing." The razor finally touched skin, then he gave a light scrape, showing Prompto what it would feel like. "See? Just like that." He tilted the blade up in front of Prompto's eyes so he could see the foam and the little bits of hair.

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008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

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