[ and the way clive says his name would have been the end had it not been for the perfectly hard rhythm he sets after teasing him. it doesn't take much more then. not really. he's strung out on the feeling of clive inside him, his voice low and gentle despite the gravel to it—all the things he focuses on as he presses his knees into clive's sides and chases almost greedily after his own orgasm.
it hits him hard. harder than the first time they did this, everything squeezing tight around clive as if his very life depends on keeping him there. inside him. deep inside him. his voice cracks on a moan, yanking at clive's hair unintentionally hard as it burns through him. and then —
then, he's just pliant, pressing his mouth to any part of clive he can reach with all the energy he has left. ]
[ Prompto shakes and grips and tugs at him, takes him and falls over his edge, and Clive feels his heart submit. irreversible and inevitable. if he gets sent back to Valisthea tomorrow, he knows he'll feel his soul ache for Prompto for the rest of his life.
so he calls Prompto's name, like it's the only thought in his mind. it is. Prompto, as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm, tugged closer and closer towards it with each breath. Prompto, as he tilts his head to meet Prompto's tired mouth with his own.
he spills over like that－ hips stilled, pressed inside to the hilt. he curls around the warm body pressed to him, affection verging on protective, and doesn't relinquish his hold even after he starts coming down from his peak.
if only Prompto could stay. Clive pours aether into him again, breathing deeply against blond hair while his magic brushes along all that beautiful bare skin. if only. ]
[ in those lulling moments between bliss and reality, prompto allows himself the smallest bit of hope. that this could be forever, that they might not have to say goodbye. even without clive knowing the darker parts (and vice versa), there's something there. something tangible in the weight of his mouth and the salt of his sweat, in the comfortable blanket of clive's magic flooding over him. he lets himself hope and holds on to it as relaxes his fingers and rubs gently down the back of clive's neck and then the length of his spine.
lightly, he presses him closer. ]
Don't wanna move, [ prompto mumbles, his thighs squeezing at him. ] Don't want you to either.
[ not yet. not to clean up or give him space. not to end this dream they've somehow become a part of. and the intensity of it is so overwhelming that prompto rests his face against clive's shoulder to keep from saying anything remotely close to stupid. because he would, he could, and that might ruin it all. ]
[ the world reshapes itself around them slowly; Clive thinks he liked this motel room better when it was just him and Prompto. but they finally wriggle into something resembling shape instead of formless masses desperately trying to shove together, and Clive finally manages to form thoughts that aren't just senseless sounds in the shape of Prompto's name.
lips press against sweat-mussed hair, then to a flushed ear. ]
Easy wishes to grant, [ Clive rasps. ] Would your Grace like anything else?
[ affectionately teasing, but also half-serious. whatever the rest of the day might bring, he'd like it to be whatever Prompto likes. if they have nothing else, they can at least have today to be indulgent.
Clive shifts, but only enough to be sure that his weight isn't overbearing. aware, at least, that it can get claustrophobic under his bulk. ]
[ he wriggles just a little at that, glad his eyes are closed so he doesn't have to expend the effort to roll them. ]
Far from it. [ there's a shiver at the heat of clive's words in his ear. ] Like, totally not royalty at all. Buuuut.
[ prompto hums in thought, aware of each point of contact between them and wanting clive to be comfortable as he sinks into the mattress. it's not the best, conscious of a spring trying to slowly dig its way into the back of a thigh, but he's very much decided to not move until he absolutely has to. slow and steady, his hands begin to wander and tug to keep clive pancaked against him.
he nudges against the damp heat of his skin, mouth finding a spot to kiss. ]
I think I'm good. Really, really good. [ better than good. ] What about you though? Can I, um, do something for you?
[ yeah, that seems the proper thing to say right now. ]
[ asked what he'd like, and that ugly, selfish thought resurfaces: i'd like you to come with me to Valisthea. seems too grand of a thing to say after sex, though-- like some trite pillow talk to laugh off as a joke, instead of the real ache Clive feels nestled in his chest.
instead, he pulls the blankets up over the both of them to prevent their sweaty bodies from cooling too fast, and bites another mark into Prompto's neck. everyone they pass from now until the next town will look at Clive and think him deranged for this, but. oh well. ]
You could stay with me. [ an open-ended truth. again, Clive is a terrible liar. ] And allow me to take another picture of you. Later.
[ prompto tips his head just enough to give clive room to bite him, and the gasp that leaves him echoes in his chest. soft but deep, hands gripping at him briefly. then, he's melting once more beneath him into the uncomfortable bed. ]
'm not going anywhere. Promise. [ perhaps he's not quite understanding, but prompto will give himself to him nonetheless. ] So... yeah. You can take any pics you want. Any time.
[ he rubs a hand up clive's back to finger at his hair, and after the shock of that statement sort of runs its course, prompto laughs softly. ] A miracle? Why? [ because they ended up in bed together? because they've been drawn into this thing without understanding the details of it? because there are no clear rules? ] I'm just me.
[ Clive would like to take a photo of Prompto now, crumpled and flushed and pooled beneath him, but that would require him to sit up and rifle though the carnage they've made of pillows and sheets to find his phone. maybe later.
now: ] You were the only one who believed me.
[ when he first arrived, is implicit. Clive sifts mussed bangs from Prompto's face, and looks down at him as if he could somehow convey the depth of his gratitude from one look; there's a limit to his language and vocabulary, after all. ]
When others believed I'd gone mad, you extended humor and patience. [ he still remembers it, and: ] You smiled, and I felt saved.
[ it's incredibly romantic, looking up at clive and blushing beneath the post-sex flush of his skin. prompto can feel his heart squeeze in his chest, wrapping itself around his throat and momentarily silencing him. so, carefully, he slips his hands to cup clive's face, urging him closer until their noses touch. ]
Not all that hard to believe you after everything I've seen, [ he offers, thumbs sliding over his cheeks. ] But I wanted to help anyway. I know how scary stuff like that can be.
[ waking up in an unknown place around unknown people and unknown circumstances. at least clive hadn't resorted to destructive methods to garner attention. and withdrawing just enough their eyes meet, prompto smiles at him, something soft and sweet and just for the two of them. ]
Look where we are now. [ it's a tease, an affectionate one punctuated with a light kiss to clive's mouth. ]
[ a soft laugh, caught between Prompto's warm hands. ]
Where I've always been, I think. In your sights.
[ again, wrapped around his finger, drawn, inevitably, to that smile. something about moths in flames, even if he's usually the one suffering the flame comparisons.
(he doesn't ask about the things Prompto has seen, not yet. a conversation to be had when they're not sex-drunk in bed.)
[ it's sweet that he asks, though prompto wonders if now is the appropriate time to have this kind of conversation. are they serious? is it just something fun to pass the time? (if that's true, they could have been doing this a lot longer than less than a day...) the complications of the facts make it difficult; clive could return to his world without warning, and —
prompto doesn't want to think about that right now. ]
If you want, [ he answers instead, pushing his fingers through clive's hair and smoothing it away from his face. ] Not sure how many people will though.
[ of course, he pauses and thinks, his expression falling slightly in earnest thought. ]
I dunno. Unless you wanna say we're boyfriends? But that doesn't seem right either since we're not really dating? [ he is absolutely not going to tell clive that they're friends with benefits. ] You can say whatever you want if they ask. I trust you.
[ his protest is quieted by a sudden surge of trying to fix whatever this miscommunication might be, looping his arms around him and pressing close. their noses touch, and prompto squeezes him in a loose embrace. ]
I just mean... I wanna be that for you. [ he wants clive to be happy too. ] I wanna be more than that, but what if – [ damn, he hadn't wanted to think about that, much less talk about it. ] Probably not the best time to bring it up – But what if we, um, get separated?
[ and he doesn't mean losing track of each other. he means clive going home. ]
[ oof. stupid move, Rosfield. his expression slides into a frown, thoughtful, but he stays where he is, elbows bracketing either side of Prompto's face. ]
Then I spend my life aching for you in Valisthea.
[ simply. a matter of fact. Clive can only feel how he feels, and he sighs through his next exhale, shoulders drawing back just a sliver. ]
...I can't say that the thought of taking you with me hasn't crossed my mind. A selfish, monstrous thing to think.
[ after experiencing displacement, wishing it on someone he's come to care for is more than slightly horrendous, he's sure. his brows slant, apologetic for even speaking the words into existence. ]
[ so they hold each other and what? hope that they'll be able to stay together?
prompto doesn't like that idea. he also doesn't like the idea of clive returning to valisthea and thinking about him the entire time, never moving on with his life or trying to find some kind of happiness. he isn't that kind of selfish. but he doesn't want to let go of him either, and there seems to be no middle ground... ]
Hey, it's okay. [ not really? but prompto errs on the side of optimism, trying to smooth that frown from clive's face with a gentle sweep of his fingers. ] Seems like we're both kinda thinkin' the same thing.
[ because there's only so much grounding him to his home, which he's already been displaced from several times now. once as a baby and again not so long ago. each time, he's bounced back, and if it happened a third time — he'd be with clive. ]
You think I could? [ his voice is low. ] Go with you?
I don't know, [ is the honest answer, with no platitudes. he allows the fingers traveling over his face to soothe the worst of the concern cleaving into his features, but the contemplation lingers at his edges, leaving him looking sharper than before. strong features, accustomed to pulling tight in concern. ]
...But Valisthea is nothing like this world, with all of its conveniences and culture. I would find a way to take you if I could, but...
[ another exhale, and a slight nuzzle against the side of Prompto's face. ]
[ a moment passes, and prompto slowly winds his arms around clive, drawing him close to hold him there. ]
I don't need any of that stuff to be happy. [ he's not that shallow. ] But it's nice you're thinking of me.
[ for the first time in a long time, he's comfortable enough to be himself around someone else. that someone likes him and is fond enough of him to consider all those different aspects, and he doesn't want to let go of it any time soon. prompto might not know anything about other worlds – unless video games count – or how to survive in them, but if they're together, they could manage it somehow. ]
Maybe we can figure it out. [ there's a light kiss to the side of clive's jaw. ] And you can tell me more about Valisthea while we do?
[ Prompto, the first time someone has shown Clive such unconditional kindness with no reason to do so. no questions aside from the perfunctory, no judgment aside from simple teasing, no doubt as to the veracity of Clive's claims about being a man out of time and space. no demands have been made of Clive in the interim, no attempt to balance what he perceives as uneven contribution between the two of them in this journey.
new, and touching. all his life, Clive has been proving his worth: a son who his mother couldn't love, a royal-turned-soldier, a slave, an outlaw. Prompto has asked him about none of those things; when he calls Clive by his name, just his name, Clive believes that Prompto is looking at him, and no one else. ]
...Yes. Perhaps I can speak to the tomeskeeper in the next town for some counsel.
[ local jock, in sore need of some books. Clive pauses, then lifts just enough to pass a quick smile Prompto's way. ]
And I can tell you everything you want to know. Though I can't guarantee my skills as a storyteller. [ a little shift, and Clive makes the executive decision to slide downwards a bit to dot kisses to Prompto's collarbone. ] You'll need some time to think, too. Take it.
[ for whatever reason, the thought of it all is suddenly so intensely overwhelming that clive's voice serves as a better distraction from his own thoughts than anything else, and he hums softly in agreement, letting his fingers slip into dark hair again. such a decision shouldn't be made like this, he knows. but he's always been so quick to give away the deepest parts of himself, and if clive would want any of that in any way...
the dangerous feeling of attachment crawls up into his throat again. ]
I'm sure you're not as bad as you make it sound. [ there. a gentle ribbing, and as clive moves, prompto presses up against him. ] But uh, yeah. I'll think about it. And try to, I dunno, come up with a plan too.
[ information gathering, etc. whatever he needs to do, he'll do it. and maybe show clive the internet... but all of that is taking a backseat to the gentle affection between them. and in an effort to change topics, his voice drops a bit lower. ]
So... d'you really wanna spend the entire day like this?
[ safe search turned on, for when Clive learns the internet. there's still internal kicking about breaching the subject of Valisthea and his thoughts on bringing Prompto along, but the cat is out of the proverbial bag; he can juggle his guilt alongside his due diligence.
later. Clive needs more information, and he needs to figure out what his duties are in this world; right now, all they have is the truth of their bodies, and their closeness.
he slides further down, down from clavicle to sternum, and licks a long stripe down to Prompto's navel. ]
You'd get restless, I think.
[ so he says, as he considers cleaning Prompto's come off his stomach with his mouth. an open-mouthed kiss to his stomach, and Clive hums there for a moment. ]
[ it's true. he would get restless, but he's restless almost anywhere, so it wouldn't have made a difference to him. he could ramble on about anything clive would want to know. or maybe they could sleep in more; prompto has a suspicion that clive hadn't gotten much rest considering how he had felt waking up but...
none of that matters the moment clive's mouth slides over his stomach. ]
Ah, maybe. [ the slightest wiggle, and he's immediately parting his thighs just a little. almost in invitation. ] But I don't mind if – if you're needing the break.
[ a hand settling in clive's hair, prompto glances down and feels his pulse race. ]
You're really hot. You know that? [ he suddenly has the urge to talk, so that's what he does. ] Like, I wanted to help you at first 'cuz you seemed so lost, but also... I don't know. I wanted to touch your armor. [ a light pull to clive's hair. ] Wanted to get the right angle and capture all of you forever.
[ "hot", Clive has learned, doesn't always refer to temperature; a funny lesson in not worrying about whether Ifrit was leaking out of him unwittingly. he smiles at the designation, nose to navel with his tongue raking over the ridges of Prompto's toned stomach, cleaning off some of the residual stickiness lingering on his skin. ]
If I caught your eye in any way, I consider myself fortunate.
[ Prompto has an eye for capturing things with blistering honesty, Clive thinks, which makes being the subject of his focus quite flattering.
he nuzzles downwards, dotting kisses along Prompto's hip. marveling at how prettily he opens himself up for Clive's touches. his mouth finds a smooth inner thigh, and the temptation to leave a lovebite there is too strong; his scarred cheek brushes along pale skin. ]
I never imagined there could be so much joy in being seen by someone.
[ one last warning, before Clive bites. (gently, still.) ]
[ there's certainly a list of things that prompto has yet to teach him, but it doesn't seem all that important with the heat of clive's breath soaking into his skin and the soft tickle of his tongue following after. knowing that he's tasted him causes his face to burn, warmth sitting hot at the back of his neck. yet, it's also an incredible turn-on, holding his breath in anticipation.
the pressure of clive's teeth causes his hips to cant forward ever so slightly. ]
If you're not used to it, [ he answers, pulling just a bit more intentionally at clive's hair. ] Wish everyone could see you the way I do.
[ and that's why he wants to take as many photos of him as he can. to remember and to recall the details that his mind might eventually fail to recreate. even now, prompto wants to find his or clive's phone and record it—still-life or otherwise. but he also wants more of clive's mouth on him, so he doesn't move except for the slightest press of his body against him. ]
[ everyone is a bit of a stretch-- he laughs about it to himself, soft and nearly inaudible, and sits up after another kiss to Prompto's hip bone. ]
You're enough, I think.
[ he misses Prompto's fingers in his hair (a new discovery: he likes it when Prompto pulls), but he sits up and stretches sideways, rummaging blindly through the clothes he discarded the night prior for his phone.
once in his possession, he relinquishes it easily to Prompto. ]
[ it takes his brain a moment to figure out what it is clive's doing, but as soon as he has the phone, prompto smiles at him. also clearly amused. ]
C'mere. [ there's a tug on clive's hand, drawing him up along the bed. ] Lay like this, and I'll – yeah, okay. I think this'll work.
[ with clive positioned half on his side and half on his back, prompto makes space for himself within the curve of his body. he only needs one hand to tilt the phone's camera in such a way that it captures both of them, even going so far as to turn his face into clive and press the softest kiss to his shoulder. its automatic setting takes them for him as long as he keeps his arm steady, and there should be some decent ones in there.
he offers clive back his phone with the camera roll open. ] Wanna take a look?
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[ and the way clive says his name would have been the end had it not been for the perfectly hard rhythm he sets after teasing him. it doesn't take much more then. not really. he's strung out on the feeling of clive inside him, his voice low and gentle despite the gravel to it—all the things he focuses on as he presses his knees into clive's sides and chases almost greedily after his own orgasm.
it hits him hard. harder than the first time they did this, everything squeezing tight around clive as if his very life depends on keeping him there. inside him. deep inside him. his voice cracks on a moan, yanking at clive's hair unintentionally hard as it burns through him. and then —
then, he's just pliant, pressing his mouth to any part of clive he can reach with all the energy he has left. ]
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so he calls Prompto's name, like it's the only thought in his mind. it is. Prompto, as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm, tugged closer and closer towards it with each breath. Prompto, as he tilts his head to meet Prompto's tired mouth with his own.
he spills over like that－ hips stilled, pressed inside to the hilt. he curls around the warm body pressed to him, affection verging on protective, and doesn't relinquish his hold even after he starts coming down from his peak.
if only Prompto could stay. Clive pours aether into him again, breathing deeply against blond hair while his magic brushes along all that beautiful bare skin. if only. ]
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lightly, he presses him closer. ]
Don't wanna move, [ prompto mumbles, his thighs squeezing at him. ] Don't want you to either.
[ not yet. not to clean up or give him space. not to end this dream they've somehow become a part of. and the intensity of it is so overwhelming that prompto rests his face against clive's shoulder to keep from saying anything remotely close to stupid. because he would, he could, and that might ruin it all. ]
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lips press against sweat-mussed hair, then to a flushed ear. ]
Easy wishes to grant, [ Clive rasps. ] Would your Grace like anything else?
[ affectionately teasing, but also half-serious. whatever the rest of the day might bring, he'd like it to be whatever Prompto likes. if they have nothing else, they can at least have today to be indulgent.
Clive shifts, but only enough to be sure that his weight isn't overbearing. aware, at least, that it can get claustrophobic under his bulk. ]
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Far from it. [ there's a shiver at the heat of clive's words in his ear. ] Like, totally not royalty at all. Buuuut.
[ prompto hums in thought, aware of each point of contact between them and wanting clive to be comfortable as he sinks into the mattress. it's not the best, conscious of a spring trying to slowly dig its way into the back of a thigh, but he's very much decided to not move until he absolutely has to. slow and steady, his hands begin to wander and tug to keep clive pancaked against him.
he nudges against the damp heat of his skin, mouth finding a spot to kiss. ]
I think I'm good. Really, really good. [ better than good. ] What about you though? Can I, um, do something for you?
[ yeah, that seems the proper thing to say right now. ]
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instead, he pulls the blankets up over the both of them to prevent their sweaty bodies from cooling too fast, and bites another mark into Prompto's neck. everyone they pass from now until the next town will look at Clive and think him deranged for this, but. oh well. ]
You could stay with me. [ an open-ended truth. again, Clive is a terrible liar. ] And allow me to take another picture of you. Later.
[ nibbling, now, over an earlobe. ]
You really are quite a miracle, you know.
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'm not going anywhere. Promise. [ perhaps he's not quite understanding, but prompto will give himself to him nonetheless. ] So... yeah. You can take any pics you want. Any time.
[ he rubs a hand up clive's back to finger at his hair, and after the shock of that statement sort of runs its course, prompto laughs softly. ] A miracle? Why? [ because they ended up in bed together? because they've been drawn into this thing without understanding the details of it? because there are no clear rules? ] I'm just me.
[ whatever that might mean. ]
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now: ] You were the only one who believed me.
[ when he first arrived, is implicit. Clive sifts mussed bangs from Prompto's face, and looks down at him as if he could somehow convey the depth of his gratitude from one look; there's a limit to his language and vocabulary, after all. ]
When others believed I'd gone mad, you extended humor and patience. [ he still remembers it, and: ] You smiled, and I felt saved.
[ simple, but true. ]
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Not all that hard to believe you after everything I've seen, [ he offers, thumbs sliding over his cheeks. ] But I wanted to help anyway. I know how scary stuff like that can be.
[ waking up in an unknown place around unknown people and unknown circumstances. at least clive hadn't resorted to destructive methods to garner attention. and withdrawing just enough their eyes meet, prompto smiles at him, something soft and sweet and just for the two of them. ]
Look where we are now. [ it's a tease, an affectionate one punctuated with a light kiss to clive's mouth. ]
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Where I've always been, I think. In your sights.
[ again, wrapped around his finger, drawn, inevitably, to that smile. something about moths in flames, even if he's usually the one suffering the flame comparisons.
(he doesn't ask about the things Prompto has seen, not yet. a conversation to be had when they're not sex-drunk in bed.)
craning forward, nuzzling foreheads, Clive ventures: ] ...Prompto. If anyone asks--
[ a tilt of his head, doglike. ]
--am I permitted to call myself your lover?
[ or is there some modern vernacular for this, too? something "dude"-adjacent? Clive has no idea. ]
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prompto doesn't want to think about that right now. ]
If you want, [ he answers instead, pushing his fingers through clive's hair and smoothing it away from his face. ] Not sure how many people will though.
[ of course, he pauses and thinks, his expression falling slightly in earnest thought. ]
I dunno. Unless you wanna say we're boyfriends? But that doesn't seem right either since we're not really dating? [ he is absolutely not going to tell clive that they're friends with benefits. ] You can say whatever you want if they ask. I trust you.
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--I didn't mean to press. Apologies.
[ "dating" and "boyfriend" are slightly unfamiliar, but he can infer their meanings from context; no, he supposes, they're neither of those things. ]
I won't make trouble for you. I promise it.
[ it is, ostensibly, what Prompto wants to make of it. Clive is here by his grace, and he won't ruin it if he can manage. ]
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[ his protest is quieted by a sudden surge of trying to fix whatever this miscommunication might be, looping his arms around him and pressing close. their noses touch, and prompto squeezes him in a loose embrace. ]
I just mean... I wanna be that for you. [ he wants clive to be happy too. ] I wanna be more than that, but what if – [ damn, he hadn't wanted to think about that, much less talk about it. ] Probably not the best time to bring it up – But what if we, um, get separated?
[ and he doesn't mean losing track of each other. he means clive going home. ]
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Then I spend my life aching for you in Valisthea.
[ simply. a matter of fact. Clive can only feel how he feels, and he sighs through his next exhale, shoulders drawing back just a sliver. ]
...I can't say that the thought of taking you with me hasn't crossed my mind. A selfish, monstrous thing to think.
[ after experiencing displacement, wishing it on someone he's come to care for is more than slightly horrendous, he's sure. his brows slant, apologetic for even speaking the words into existence. ]
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prompto doesn't like that idea. he also doesn't like the idea of clive returning to valisthea and thinking about him the entire time, never moving on with his life or trying to find some kind of happiness. he isn't that kind of selfish. but he doesn't want to let go of him either, and there seems to be no middle ground... ]
Hey, it's okay. [ not really? but prompto errs on the side of optimism, trying to smooth that frown from clive's face with a gentle sweep of his fingers. ] Seems like we're both kinda thinkin' the same thing.
[ because there's only so much grounding him to his home, which he's already been displaced from several times now. once as a baby and again not so long ago. each time, he's bounced back, and if it happened a third time — he'd be with clive. ]
You think I could? [ his voice is low. ] Go with you?
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...But Valisthea is nothing like this world, with all of its conveniences and culture. I would find a way to take you if I could, but...
[ another exhale, and a slight nuzzle against the side of Prompto's face. ]
Not at the expense of your happiness. Never.
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I don't need any of that stuff to be happy. [ he's not that shallow. ] But it's nice you're thinking of me.
[ for the first time in a long time, he's comfortable enough to be himself around someone else. that someone likes him and is fond enough of him to consider all those different aspects, and he doesn't want to let go of it any time soon. prompto might not know anything about other worlds – unless video games count – or how to survive in them, but if they're together, they could manage it somehow. ]
Maybe we can figure it out. [ there's a light kiss to the side of clive's jaw. ] And you can tell me more about Valisthea while we do?
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new, and touching. all his life, Clive has been proving his worth: a son who his mother couldn't love, a royal-turned-soldier, a slave, an outlaw. Prompto has asked him about none of those things; when he calls Clive by his name, just his name, Clive believes that Prompto is looking at him, and no one else. ]
...Yes. Perhaps I can speak to the tomeskeeper in the next town for some counsel.
[ local jock, in sore need of some books. Clive pauses, then lifts just enough to pass a quick smile Prompto's way. ]
And I can tell you everything you want to know. Though I can't guarantee my skills as a storyteller. [ a little shift, and Clive makes the executive decision to slide downwards a bit to dot kisses to Prompto's collarbone. ] You'll need some time to think, too. Take it.
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the dangerous feeling of attachment crawls up into his throat again. ]
I'm sure you're not as bad as you make it sound. [ there. a gentle ribbing, and as clive moves, prompto presses up against him. ] But uh, yeah. I'll think about it. And try to, I dunno, come up with a plan too.
[ information gathering, etc. whatever he needs to do, he'll do it. and maybe show clive the internet... but all of that is taking a backseat to the gentle affection between them. and in an effort to change topics, his voice drops a bit lower. ]
So... d'you really wanna spend the entire day like this?
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later. Clive needs more information, and he needs to figure out what his duties are in this world; right now, all they have is the truth of their bodies, and their closeness.
he slides further down, down from clavicle to sternum, and licks a long stripe down to Prompto's navel. ]
You'd get restless, I think.
[ so he says, as he considers cleaning Prompto's come off his stomach with his mouth. an open-mouthed kiss to his stomach, and Clive hums there for a moment. ]
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none of that matters the moment clive's mouth slides over his stomach. ]
Ah, maybe. [ the slightest wiggle, and he's immediately parting his thighs just a little. almost in invitation. ] But I don't mind if – if you're needing the break.
[ a hand settling in clive's hair, prompto glances down and feels his pulse race. ]
You're really hot. You know that? [ he suddenly has the urge to talk, so that's what he does. ] Like, I wanted to help you at first 'cuz you seemed so lost, but also... I don't know. I wanted to touch your armor. [ a light pull to clive's hair. ] Wanted to get the right angle and capture all of you forever.
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If I caught your eye in any way, I consider myself fortunate.
[ Prompto has an eye for capturing things with blistering honesty, Clive thinks, which makes being the subject of his focus quite flattering.
he nuzzles downwards, dotting kisses along Prompto's hip. marveling at how prettily he opens himself up for Clive's touches. his mouth finds a smooth inner thigh, and the temptation to leave a lovebite there is too strong; his scarred cheek brushes along pale skin. ]
I never imagined there could be so much joy in being seen by someone.
[ one last warning, before Clive bites. (gently, still.) ]
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the pressure of clive's teeth causes his hips to cant forward ever so slightly. ]
If you're not used to it, [ he answers, pulling just a bit more intentionally at clive's hair. ] Wish everyone could see you the way I do.
[ and that's why he wants to take as many photos of him as he can. to remember and to recall the details that his mind might eventually fail to recreate. even now, prompto wants to find his or clive's phone and record it—still-life or otherwise. but he also wants more of clive's mouth on him, so he doesn't move except for the slightest press of his body against him. ]
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You're enough, I think.
[ he misses Prompto's fingers in his hair (a new discovery: he likes it when Prompto pulls), but he sits up and stretches sideways, rummaging blindly through the clothes he discarded the night prior for his phone.
once in his possession, he relinquishes it easily to Prompto. ]
If you'd like, [ is a little amused. ]
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C'mere. [ there's a tug on clive's hand, drawing him up along the bed. ] Lay like this, and I'll – yeah, okay. I think this'll work.
[ with clive positioned half on his side and half on his back, prompto makes space for himself within the curve of his body. he only needs one hand to tilt the phone's camera in such a way that it captures both of them, even going so far as to turn his face into clive and press the softest kiss to his shoulder. its automatic setting takes them for him as long as he keeps his arm steady, and there should be some decent ones in there.
he offers clive back his phone with the camera roll open. ] Wanna take a look?
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