Everything is rough, hot, fast. He's too worked up already, and they've only just started. He can feel that stubble against his skin. It's the kind of roughness that he can only associate with Gladio. Something that's distinctly his and only for Noctis to really know like this.

He lets out a low whine. It's quiet and hushed in Gladio's ear. He did say he was quieter than his shield, and he was going to prove it. Maybe. Gladio tugs just right and Noctis' breath hitches. His own hand squeezes and mimics Gladio's movements.