fourstrings | push my mind around as if it's warming up your hand

push my mind around as if it's warming up your hand

[ Ignis has been thinking.

In general, he's very happy. With Noctis, in particular. They've fallen into something sweetly familiar, and he cherishes the ease with which they can just be together – sharing a meal, or curled aganst each other on the couch while Astra does her best to interrupt their respective study, or (especially) when they're intimate. It's not what he'd call predictable, which implies something dull and staid, but it's warm and wonderful and easy as breathing.

There is one thing, however, that is definitely predictable, and it bothers him.

Noctis is – obviously – the single most gorgeous thing Ignis has ever laid eyes on. Not because of his features (splendid though they may be), but because of the light of expression that moves in him. It doesn't seem like so very long ago that Noctis was sullen and withdrawn, hiding so much of himself behind a facade of detachment, and seeing Noctis relaxed, or animated, or flushed with pleasure has an effect on Ignis that he couldn't have predicted back when his affections seemed like something to be carefully ignored. It fills him with warmth to see Noctis unfurling in his presence, to know that he feels safe enough to be unguarded. To be himself. It makes him almost heartbreakingly beautiful.

And if he ever tells Noctis as much, he's rebuffed with the predictability of a thrown stone falling back to earth.

It is not, perhaps, the best plan he's ever had. Still, there's the desire there to show him. The belief that if only Noctis could see what he sees, he'd understand. And Noctis has always been more receptive when he's getting something he wants. To Ignis' great joy, what he wants is often Ignis. So that is how the idea forms: He purchases a very large mirror, and moves it into Noct's apartment while the prince is out. Into his bedroom, specifically; directly opposite the bed. Noctis is generally pleasingly open to new things, and unlikely to take a lot of convincing on the matter. Then Ignis' role is simple. He'll bring Noctis to that point he so loves to see, flushed and wanton and beautiful, and let him see too. If the whole process fails to convince him, then at least they'll have enjoyed themselves getting there.

And if he's 75% certain Noctis will insist on having the mirror removed after the fact, well. That's a problem for tomorrow's Ignis. For now he's sitting on the end of Noct's bed, dressed in clothes he knows Noctis enjoys both the look and feel of (and with buttons he's prepared to take sole responsibility for), and sending one very simple text message. ]

I'm in your bedroom.

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[ he's always liked being praised, and the warm sense of satisfaction is enough to keep him from immediately trying to take the edge off his own arousal. instead, he gently butts his head into ignis' shoulder like an affectionate housecat, cuddling closer in a silent sort of encouragement for the way ignis loops an arm around him and draws him closer. ]

What can I say? [ because he is feeling particularly full of himself. ] I'm full of surprises.

You certainly are.

[ and that too is warm and pleased. There's always been a part of him that struggles with the idea of Noctis doing something just to please him (in matters of the bedroom, specifically - if Noctis decided to eat broccoli simply to make Ignis happy there's a reasonable chance he'd propose on the spot, appearances be damned), but Noctis sounds so pleased with himself that it's impossible to fret. Instead he trails a line of kisses along Noct's jaw and a slower one at his mouth, entirely unconcerned with the taste of himself there, and lowers a hand between them to curl warm fingers around Noct's dick. ]

Let's make sure that doesn't go unrewarded.

[ he can't help the little moan that escapes him when ignis wraps his fingers around his dick, hips hitching forward in a helpless little motion. already, he's so hard that just the simplest of touches is enough to make him dizzy -- and in his head, there's still the decadent soundtrack of all those noises ignis was making for him, raw and utterly uncomposed.

so he breaks away from the kiss just so that he can bury his face in ignis' shoulder instead, squeezing his eyes shut as if that'll be enough to help cut down on some of this stimulation and delay the inevitable. otherwise, he's going to embarrass himself by coming in a matter of seconds, and his pride would never let him live that one down. ]

Oh?

[ And he's recovered just enough from that frankly mindblowing orgasm to want to check in, gently lifting Noct's face to watch his expression - though his hand, it must be said, doesn't release its hold on his cock. The look on Noct's face has him exhaling in quiet admiration, and is just enough to remind him of his original purpose here. ]

Look at you. I'll remember this.

[ And with that he moves both hands to Noct's hips to steer him until he's facing towards the mirror, shifting until he's behind him, chest pressed close against Noct's back. His hand skims down over Noct's chest and stomach, eyes on his face in the reflection. ]

Don't tell me you're coming over all shy now.

[ it's not that he's shy. ... or, if he had a little more presence of mind to argue, that's what he'd try insisting. but sometimes being the focus of ignis' intent and reverent attention is just too much, especially when he's almost positive that he's making some kind of weird and embarrassing sexface.

but he's distracted from that thought when ignis lets go of his dick without warning, all intelligent protests melting away into a needy whine. after all, in his highly esteemed opinion on etiquette, it's terribly ungentlemanly of ignis to not at least give him the courtesy of a handjob, especially after --

... oh. he'd forgotten all about that mirror.

and his mind and body almost immediately disagree on the subject; already he's trying to twist back around into ignis and hide his face again, but the idea that ignis went out and found a mirror to (presumably) debauch noctis in front of is enough to make his dick twitch with another helpless surge of arousal. fuck. ]

Ah.

[ It's a little warning noise, inappropriately close to the sort of sound Ignis makes when he catches Noctis transferring his vegetables to Ignis' plate, and accompanied by a little push of his shoulder to keep Noctis facing forward. But the chastisement comes with encouragement as he takes Noct's dick in hand again and thumbs gently over the head. ]

Have you any idea how hard it is to control myself around you when I've seen you like this? To walk beside you in the citadel and say "yes, Highness" when all I want -

[ his mouth his close by Noct's ear, warm breath against his skin as he shifts his hand to stroke slowly and firmly along the length of his dick ]

is to undress you and put my hands on you, and make you look like this?

[ this is unfair.

he's too turned on to fuss properly about this, and ignis must know that, because he promptly starts murmuring into noctis' ear with a voice that's as smooth and sinful as dark chocolate. and noctis can't squirm away with the way that ignis is pressed up against him, and even squeezing his eyes shut is no real relief when ignis is touching him and talking to him like this. ]

I -- [ and his voice breaks around another little gasp as ignis strokes him, shuddering down the length of his spine. ] I-Ignis, you --

You, Noct. It's you. You're beautiful, and the best thing that's ever happened to me.

[ His hand is still moving, slower than he knows Noctis prefers but firm, skating the edge between giving him what he needs and teasing. He buries a kiss behind Noct's ear, breathing him in. ]

But right now, you look like a little slut.

[ the words hit him like an electric shock, knocking his next breath out of him in a sharp exhale. and it's more reflex than anything else that has him opening his eyes -- there's a part of his brain that can't reconcile the word slut with ignis' voice, but.

it's impossible not to see himself in the mirror, as big as it is. and the sight in front of him is enough to make him flush all over again -- his cock is hard and leaking in ignis' hand, hips twitching forward helplessly as if he's trying to fuck ignis' fist. his lips are still slightly swollen and kiss-bruised, his cheeks are painted with a blush, and his eyes are dark and heavy-lidded with something that's impossible to mistake as anything but want. ]

I -- [ his breath hitches, lashes fluttering and words catching in his throat. ... but when in doubt, he's always defaulted to being a smartass, so. ] ... then why don't you treat me like one, already?

[ with a purposeful backwards press of his hips, trying to egg ignis into giving him what he wants. ]

[ That should be rather a lot to ask given how thoroughly Noctis had seen to Ignis' erection, but watching Noctis like this has started something stirring that is only encouraged by the sight of Noct looking at himself in the mirror. So Noctis presses back against him and Ignis responds by shoving him forward, trusting Noctis to catch himself of hands or elbows to leave him on all fours - or for his luxurious bed to break his fall, should he fail to. It's a matter of moments to retrieve the lubricant from the bedside table, and he slicks a still-cold dab of it against Noctis when the position leaves him exposed. Perhaps not treating someone like a slut in the manner most people might think of, but his failure to warm it the way he usually would is a statement that he hopes translates, at least. ]

So demanding. You might find you're more likely to get what you want if you ask nicely.

[ it'd be easy enough to catch himself before he falls forward, but noctis has a feeling that would disrupt the effect ignis was going for. so he allows himself to tumble down onto his elbows instead, spine curved into a bow that leaves his hips raised behind him.

... and, okay. cold lubricant probably isn't the most extreme way ignis could have interpreted the request, but. it's still enough to make noctis gasp a little sound of surprise, a shiver dancing up his spine and making him squirm. and really, the current note of authority is appealing enough; plenty of his fantasies have featured ignis lecturing him about something, which noctis has always just written off as some sort of weird self-defense mechanism to protect his brain from ignis' nagging.

still. two can play at this game. ]

Please, Ignis. [ and he spreads his knees a little wider on the bed and rocks his hips backwards a little, using the position to put himself on display. plus, there's a look over his shoulder that he's hoping is properly wanton -- it's pretty easy to go for, when he's still so hard it hurts. ] I need you.

I want to feel you inside me, I want you to fuck me.

[ Well.

He's not sure what his expectations were, precisely, but this certainly exceeds them. The way Noctis looks back at him, the way he puts himself on display, and especially the sound of his voice. It's intoxicating, desperately arousing, and honestly... a little inspiring.

Which is what leads him to do something there is a 0 percent chance of him not apologising fiercely and at great length for after all this is done. ]

Eyes forward, [ he says, and with very little thought going into it other than continuing something that Noctis seems very keen to play along with, he brings the flat of his hand against the curve of Noct's buttock with a sharp slap. ] Don't force me to make you wait.

[ noctis isn't expecting that sharp little slap when it comes, and while it's hardly enough to hurt, it still startles his next breath out of him in a little gasp. ... but the next thing that follows is a low (helpless) moan, because fuck. whatever mood is currently inspiring ignis, noctis is really into it.

so much, in fact, that he has to fist both hands into the sheets just to keep from reaching back and trying to touch himself. he's so hard that it's almost enough to make him dizzy, and not being able to give himself any sort of immediate gratification is its own sort of torture. which is why he obeys that demand, even though there is a low whine at the idea of ignis making him wait. ]

Ignis, c'mon... [ he asked nicely! ]

[ It's just as well Noctis doesn't seem prepared to wait any longer, because that moan is enough to make Ignis want him urgently. The way he'd said please earlier is going to plague him with poorly-timed erections for weeks, he can tell, so he might as well put this one to good use. The smack he's given Noctis' bottom was hardly enough to require it, but he still rubs his hand gently over where it had landed for a moment before he smooths a more adequate amount of lube against him. And look at that - Noct's gaze is back where he directed it, towards the mirror. ]

Good boy.

[ With that, he presses a finger in. Slow but confident, and though the promising warmth inside Noctis is familiar to him now it still pulls a low sound of want from him and merits another finger the very moment he feels Noctis is ready for it. ]

Edited (hilarious typo) 2017-08-13 19:58 (UTC)

[ it's probably just as well that ignis chooses to hit him with good boy at the same moment that he presses that first finger into him, because (hopefully) noctis can blame his reaction on one and not the other. it's dumb that something so stupid has such a powerful and immediate effect, but the words wash over him in a wave of heat, and he presses his face into the plush comforter beneath him just to stifle the ragged moan that follows. but there's no helping (or hiding) the way his muscles clutch and shudder around the fingers pressed into him, nor the way he pushes his hips back for more.

and even though he's half-sure that he isn't supposed to, noctis reaches a hand down between his legs and wraps his fingers around his own cock, not sure if he'd rather jerk himself off or prevent the orgasm that feels like it's boiling at the pit of his stomach. either way, he's a mess, and not sure he's fully ready to wrap his mind around why ignis calling him a good boy was able to have this much of an effect. ]

I-Ignis, I -- [ it's a whine, half-muffled by the fact that he's still hiding his face. fuck, it would probably only take a few firm strokes to get himself off, and he's always been horrible at delaying any sort of gratification, but. ] Fuck.

[ The cause of Noct's reaction is lost on Ignis, but the reaction itself isn't. It makes him sigh, something that comes out of him breathy and shuddering, and he matches the way Noctis reaches for himself by hastily slicking himself with lube and pressing into him without further delay. Easy to rationalize that it's for Noctis, that his moan and the way he touches himself signals a need for urgency, but the heat and pressure of Noctis around him provoke a moan of his own and rather give him away.

He waits a brief moment, making space for him to collect himself and for Noctis to adjust. This is new territory, but his perpetual concern for Noctis and his drive to be always careful, always gentle falls more than a little to the wayside when he's so responsive it's dizzying. He rolls his hips forward, moving until they're flush against the curve of Noct's buttocks, and then stills.

It takes considerable effort. ]

Up. Look up, Noct. I want you to watch.

[ oh, fuck.

he was half-expecting some sort of mercy, but the way that ignis replaces his fingers with his cock and presses into him in one smooth motion is enough to make noctis arch and cry out, fingers clutching at desperate fistfuls of the bedsheets. and for a moment, there's nothing in his head but white noise as he tries to ride out that first slow wave of pleasure, but.

ignis, the bastard, decides to be still, and that's what actually gets noctis' attention.

and processing the request (demand?) takes another moment, sending a little trill of something that's half-embarrassment and half-arousal up noctis' spine. there's a part of him that wants to shake his head adamantly and refuse, because he's positive that he'll just see himself making some kind of dumb sexface and immediately lose the ability to get turned on forever, but. ... the idea of being able to see ignis is appealing, and that's what finally makes noctis turn his face enough to be able to catch sight of the mirror again. because ignis is absolutely gorgeous like this, skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat and eyes dark with want.

... and noctis can't resist rocking his hips back into him a little, just to see what it does to ignis' expression. ]

[ What it does is ruin him.

Or ruin the illusion of control he's striving for, at least. Noctis pushes back onto him and it twists a desperate little sound out of him, something echoed in his expression. His lips part against the barest swipe of his tongue, his eyes flutter almost closed, and his hands shift to grip Noctis by the hips like he thinks he's going to lose him somehow. It's almost too much, even before his eyes find Noct's in their reflection and make it all feel that much more intense. ]

Good, [ he says, because encouraging Noctis seems to be working so far. So a small smile, a low word of praise, and then it's too much to resist no matter how much he might want to see if he can goad Noct into taking control and moving against him. He draws out long and slow, and the slide back in makes his fingers tighten and twitch against Noct's skin. ]

[ just watching ignis is enough to make noctis groan a low sound from the back of his throat, helpless desire blooming through every inch of him. and he'd probably be well on his way to repeating the motion, but. their eyes meet in the mirror, and that's almost too much, even before ignis praises him again.

and good isn't quite as effective as good boy, but it's still enough to make him gasp and shudder, the breath melting into a low moan as ignis rocks him through that first slow thrust. the pace is enough to make him huff a little impatient sound -- already working his hips back as if to encourage another, watching ignis' fingers flex against his skin (because eye contact is just too much). ]

More. [ because he's at least recovered enough to remember how to be demanding. ]

[ That's enough to prompt a little laugh - his Noctis, beautiful and demanding, wriggling back against him in a way that makes his meaning clear.

It means something to Ignis that Noctis is so open when they're together. In his daily life he's shyly quiet, too aware of the fact that his position means duty to be demanding about much of anything (except, maybe, with regard to food). He attends functions he doesn't want to attend dressed in fancy clothes he doesn't enjoy wearing, and Ignis is generally the only person who ever hears a word of complaint. It's impossible to see all that and not relish how free Noctis can be about what he wants when it's just the two of them and the hot press of their bodies, to absolutely thrill in giving it to him.

So: the prince demands more, and more he gets. Still deep, drawing out of him in long strokes that just give him more room to thrust back in, his pace quickening until every inward press ends in the slap of skin against skin. The movement draw his eye down to where they're joined and the sight of it makes him catch his own lip between his teeth- so that's why everyone makes such a fuss of this position - but it's not long before his attention moves back to the mirror and Noct's face, flushed and beautiful. ]

[ fuck, it's good.

each deep thrust is enough to press right up against all the places that count, and the quicker pace is much more aligned with noctis' usual tastes. and it isn't long before every inch of him feels like it's awash in pleasure; his nerve endings feel lit up with sensation, and every firm thrust is enough to wrench a helpless little noise out of him as ignis finds that spot each and every time. perfect, it's perfect, and there's absolutely no reason he'd ever want it to stop, but --

noctis catches the way ignis' gaze flicks down between them, and realizing what he's seeing is enough to spark an instant wave of curiosity (and heat). so he's pressing back almost immediately, struggling up onto his elbows and then trying to sit up, whining a low sound of complaint when that's enough to disrupt both their rhythm and the angle. but if ignis is determined to put the mirror to good use, then it seems more than fair that noctis should be able to demand it for his own purposes, too. ]

Ignis, I wanna see. [ and even with ignis' cock buried inside him, he's still too damn embarrassed to spell it out anymore than that, so. ignis better put that genius mind to good use and get the damn hint. ] I want --

[ Oh.

Oh.

Once Noctis makes his intentions plain, Ignis can't be miffed at the interruption to what was feeling exceptionally good. There's a moment where he stills, sucking air at the realization as a hot throb of want pulses through him, and then he's all action. Reaching to haul Noctis up onto his knees, shuffling behind him until eventually Ignis is sitting on his heels with Noctis in his lap, thighs splayed out over Ignis' legs.

It's a maneuver that would have been much simpler if he'd pulled out first, but some things are worth a little extra effort. ]

It's quite the view.

[ Whispered close against Noct's ear, and he tugs the lobe of it gently between his teeth as he reaches down in front of Noctis to cup his balls, ensuring an unobstructed view as he rocks up into him. ]

[ noctis is endlessly pleased with himself when ignis both immediately grasps what he wants and also immediately moves to grant it. (especially since ignis is able to hoist him up without any particular effort on noctis' part -- all he really has to do is settle back against ignis' chest, fully trusting ignis to keep them balanced.)

but the sight of ignis' cock sinking into him is enough to drag a low groan out of noctis -- there's something undeniably arousing about actually being able to see the way they're joined, and watching the way ignis rocks back up into him in one smooth slide sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through him. ] Ignis...

[ and he can't resist the urge to touch, to reach down and stroke his fingers curiously over that place where ignis is pressed inside him. he can feel the way the tight ring of muscle is stretched tightly to accommodate ignis' cock, and somehow it just makes it that much more real. a shudder thrills up his spine, and he's already squirming to try and roll his hips down against the older man, eager. ]

Show me.

[ Noct's reaction is enough to fill him with an intense blend of pride and desire, but that's nothing - nothing - compared to the sight of Noct's exploratory fingers and his following demand.

A hand planted behind him on the bed gives the extra leverage he needs to comply, leaning back giving him the room to thrust upwards. No teasing this time; Noct's enthusiasm deserves a reward. It doesn't take him long to find a rhythm, driving into Noctis as quickly as he can with the new angle tearing a low moan out of him. ]

Noct, [ and it's a breathless, desperate thing, his voice burred warm with want. He's beautiful, beautiful, and Ignis can't bear to look away from him. ]

[ if asked, noctis probably couldn't even say why being able to see this is so arousing. but here's the thing: no one's asking. so that just means he can indulge without bothering to worry about why, eyes locked to the mirror and to the almost hypnotic sight of ignis rocking up into him.

until the sound of noct makes his gaze flick back to ignis' face in the mirror, and the intensity of their eyes meeting is almost enough to undo him entirely. the pleasure is a steady blaze inside him, but something about that intimate connection just makes it that much more -- he fumbles for ignis' free hand immediately and tries to clutch at it, voice choking around a low cry as ignis drives into him again and again and again.

and then it's over before he can help it; one last perfect thrust against that spot inside him is enough to make the world scatter into stars, and noctis arches and cries out ignis' name, still clutching a white-knuckled grip around the other man's hand. he wants to keep watching, but he can't -- it's all too overwhelming, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and bite down hard on his lower lip just to keep himself from coming utterly to pieces. ]

push my mind around as if it's warming up your hand

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