[The King's eyes are dark and unfocused. All he can feel is the teasing wet heat inside him and the hand on him. It's both too much and not enough at the same time. But then it stops and the whimper Noctis lets out is louder than he'd like to admit. Lips are teasing at the bruise against his thigh and it's not fair. His fingers grip at the sheets again (he might hear a rip, but that's not important). Gladio's teasing at his slit, and he's left empty and wanting.
He finally focuses enough to register Gladio's words. He gives a slight nod in response before he groans and shifts his hips. He doesn't want to feel empty like this anymore.]
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He finally focuses enough to register Gladio's words. He gives a slight nod in response before he groans and shifts his hips. He doesn't want to feel empty like this anymore.]
Gladio, please...