[ There had been a moment of silence, just long enough to let Prompto's imagination run away with him in decidedly unpleasant directions. Maybe he'd been reading everything wrong after all. Maybe he'd just sprung this on someone who absolutely didn't want it, maybe Noctis has someone else, someone closer to his own age, maybe he's just scared off the only person that's come to care about him at all--
And then, out of the quiet: Where are you?
Prompto shudders through a relieved sigh, blinking back the sudden burn behind his eyes as the tension unwinds from around his heart. Stupid omega hormones, if Noct feels like calling him on it. Noctis is speaking between the lines; asking where he is confirms that he's coming to find him-- to help him, the way he'd asked for it. All Prompto's anxiety washes away in the surge of fantasies that rush across his mind instead; soon, gods, soon those warm hands will be on his body, those lips on his skin. He can almost feel the scratch of the man's slightly unkempt beard-- at his neck, his abdomen, his inner thigh. The dense, red-hot coil of arousal between his legs wrenches tight again, making his legs quiver, another shameless stream of fluid running down the backs of his thighs as he pants softly against the phone.
Words. Words are a thing. He's about to answer-- when he can hear, on the other end, the unmistakeable sounds of Noctis fumbling with his keys, a couple of failed attempts to get a car door open. Even through the fog of lust, Prompto can't help the staggered moment of breathy laughter that breaks from his chest. ]
Yeah, I'm... I'm at home. Don't crash your car, okay?
[ His knees give out on him; Prompto rolls to his side instead, curling into himself a little, like it might contain this heat that's threatening to scorch him to cinders. He changes tactics again, hand abandoning his cock to dip under and press against his entrance-- and this time, he nudges a fourth finger in beside the third. The extra little burn in the stretch makes him gasp, push them in deeper, riding his hips against them in a rhythm he can't at all sustain. ]
no subject
And then, out of the quiet: Where are you?
Prompto shudders through a relieved sigh, blinking back the sudden burn behind his eyes as the tension unwinds from around his heart. Stupid omega hormones, if Noct feels like calling him on it. Noctis is speaking between the lines; asking where he is confirms that he's coming to find him-- to help him, the way he'd asked for it. All Prompto's anxiety washes away in the surge of fantasies that rush across his mind instead; soon, gods, soon those warm hands will be on his body, those lips on his skin. He can almost feel the scratch of the man's slightly unkempt beard-- at his neck, his abdomen, his inner thigh. The dense, red-hot coil of arousal between his legs wrenches tight again, making his legs quiver, another shameless stream of fluid running down the backs of his thighs as he pants softly against the phone.
Words. Words are a thing. He's about to answer-- when he can hear, on the other end, the unmistakeable sounds of Noctis fumbling with his keys, a couple of failed attempts to get a car door open. Even through the fog of lust, Prompto can't help the staggered moment of breathy laughter that breaks from his chest. ]
Yeah, I'm... I'm at home. Don't crash your car, okay?
[ His knees give out on him; Prompto rolls to his side instead, curling into himself a little, like it might contain this heat that's threatening to scorch him to cinders. He changes tactics again, hand abandoning his cock to dip under and press against his entrance-- and this time, he nudges a fourth finger in beside the third. The extra little burn in the stretch makes him gasp, push them in deeper, riding his hips against them in a rhythm he can't at all sustain. ]
Sh-should... probably just let you drive, huh...?