Mmm, feels more electric than hot to me, but who's keeping track?
[That is probably not what Nyx was expecting when he asked Regis to keep speaking, but it does prove one thing very definitely--the polite and proper Lucian King below him knows full well what he said. He was a much younger man when he learned the language, after all. There are a great many phrases he learned purely for the fun of it, and perhaps, so his tutors could take pride in the fact they had taught him such things.
Had Mors ever found out, he would have had them exiled if not worse. It's a good thing he never found out.
The laugh that starts to follow that statement gets swallowed by Nyx's kiss, transforming into a low growl at the back of his throat as he meets every bit of Nyx's demanding with his own. He doesn't even give the state of his shirt a second thought because he's finally got the Glaive close enough to get his hands on. Fingers trace over the network of scarring that marks Nyx's chest and for a moment, Regis can't help but feel pained knowing the how badly the Crystal's magic has already marred the young man. There's a strange sort of kinship he feels too, for his knows they share this; his own chest is marred even worse. The price of power, even as freely given as it is.
He turns his head, bringing his mouth nearer to Nyx's ear. When he speaks, his voice is more breathless than before, but his control of the language isn't hindered by it or by the fact that his attention is split as his hands slide down across Nyx's ribs and up his back, fingers carefully mapping out every scar as they come across them.]
What will you have me say, my wild one? Shall I tell you how honored I am that one so untamed would waste even a moment for another locked away in a cage of his own making? Shall I explain how watching you makes me feel more alive than I have in years? Do you have any idea how relieved I am we arrived in time to keep you from slipping away from this world? [Regis pauses then, moving just enough so he can press his lips to the edge of Nyx's ear.]
Or, perhaps I should leave the pretty words behind and speak of things decidedly less pure?
[Nyx writhes in Regis' lap,trying to arch into every touch, press up into those hands as they slide over his body. Each firm touch dragging a rough gasp from the younger man, pressing the sounds into Regis' skin.
For a moment Nyx wonders how the hell his king can make full sentences like that, eloquent and practiced if a little breathless. It's unfair, the control he has. It could be age but Nyx is pretty sure given another twenty years he still wouldn't be so composed, certainly not with an eager young thing in his lap.
Which is as much a challenge as the words and looks earlier had been.
Nyx's hands smooth down Regis' chest, fingers confident and unafraid of the scars that sprawl there, deeper and more elaborate than his own but it shows that the king favors his left side too, the web of lines marching up his neck, down his shoulder.]
You can do the pretty shit later.
[Low and rough, murmured against his collarbone before there's a series of sharp nips up along his collar, all the way up to his throat. Nyx lays himself forward, chest to chest, reveling in the heat of the other man and shifting so he can roll his hips down against him, the movement smooth and almost unnatural as though he were not entirely human at all but carried the coeurl's same fluid grace and flexible spine.]
Fuck. Regis...
[The movement is enough to have his breath leaving him in a sharp whine that he muffles against Regis' throat, teeth going to work on a very different pulse point this time.]
[The restraint has its advantages sometimes. Not long ago Regis had been ready to give in with abandon, but then Nyx gave him that moment to gather himself and now he's enjoying watching the Glaive come to pieces far too much to give in again so soon. Oh sure, there is only so much even his restraint can handle--already those exploring fingers are pressing him close to the edge again--but until he's pushed over, Regis intends on making the most of this.
His hands slide back down Nyx's back resting first on his hips, then drifting lower before he pulls the Glaive as close to him as he can, rolling up to meet his motion and holding him there. Regis might not have the flexibility that Nyx has, but he does still has some strength at his disposal.]
And what if I want to do the pretty little shit now? [It takes a second to judge the leverage he needs to shift them, but then Regis slides to the side enough that he can finally set his mouth against Nyx's skin, pressing lips and then teeth against the area where his collarbone meets his shoulder. When he pulls back a moment later, it is only to make a request before setting back to work.]
Stop muffling yourself. I want to hear your roars.
[Hands on his hips are nice and encouraging. Hands on his ass, gripping him firmly and holding him in place have him snarling slightly against Regis' throat, back arching, body rolling in that grip to fight the restraint. Not that he wants the other man to let go but he can't help but move, arching and gasping and biting sharply at the tender skin behind his ear.]
Then I need to get my pants off.
[Breathless but much of the teasing is gone, replaced with need and the dramatic reactions to every bit of sensation he gets. The heat of Regis' mouth on his shoulder, the gentle scratch of beard against his skin, the spike of heat the words send through him. It all has him squirming, pressing purposefully down against Regis' groin but also trying to push up towards his mouth in the same breath. Breaths that come faster and harder.]
Sure your -Shit tha's good- guard won't be... worried?
[But even as he asks it he's surrendered the grip on Regis' throat, head falling back as he rocks down, hands splayed over the king's chest. His fingers press hard into the muscle there then slide down, blunt nails snagging at the ridges of scars, down to his sides where pain and disuse has softened the edges of what had once been a powerful build. His nails bite harder, a sharp sting against the softer skin of his sides, below his ribs, anchoring himself as he moves and offers the full span of his chest to Regis' mouth.]
[The smirk that accompanies those words is clear in both tone and on the lips that press into Nyx's skin. Regis does move his hands, fingers dipping under the waistband of the Glaive's pants, but he makes no real move to remove them. Instead, he lets himself savor the feel of the fingers that explore his chest and scrape down his sides. There's no attempt to hold back groan or the shiver the sensation draws from him; once more he's quickly being reduced to mess of reactions all wishing to come out at once after being bottled up for so long.]
The guards have very specific instructions for what they are and are not to acknowledge hearing, and they have held their positions for some time. I have no worries about their ability to hold their tongues.
[Regis chuckles softly as his mouth begins following the scars that cover so much of Nyx's chest, paying close attention to each, burning them into his memory.]
Quite honestly, they will probably be too busy dividing up bet winnings with each other to care about much else. [Is Regis aware of the fact his guards have a betting pool about if he will ever take a lover again and who it might be? Of course he is and has found himself quite amused by the antics over the years. For a split second, he can't help but wonder who came closest to predicting this particular outcome and by what odds he will be winning, then his attention is pulled back to where it should be, teeth scraping sharply over the nipple his explorations have led him to.]
[For one hopeful moment he thinks that Regis might actually be planning to help him wriggle out of his pants, the dark denim tight and uncomfortable by now. But no, of course this infuriating man only teases, grips at him with those strong fingers on skin now and Nyx groans at the feeling.
The trailing heat of Regis' mouth over his chest only has his nails digging in harder, scrabbling for purchase on the other man's sides, his nails trimmed down so close he barely has enough to hold onto him with. Especially skimming over the fine web of scars that spark and burn with the sensations, blue-violet light dancing under his skin, the glow of magic drawn up from within him to answer each touch.
He starts to laugh, breathless and overwhelmed.]
Least 'm making someone a prof- AH!
[He doesn't need the request from Regis, teeth scrape over his nipple and he's already crying out, arching into it. One hand drops from Regis' side to slam into his hair again, the electricity burning through the air making the touch crackle loudly before he finds purchase, pulling hard, holding Regis' mouth against his chest as best he can.]
Fuck Reg- swear to gods...
[It's possibly a little awkward, holding Regis to his chest while he's panting and breathless and also still rocking in his lap. Only to get moreso when his other hand slips away from Regis' side to drop down to his own pants, twisting his hand to undo the button and try to find enough space to shimmy the zip down.]
If you're not gonna-
Welp, since Someone's finally decided to commit better get a [SMUT WARNING] on this!
[The growl that leaves Regis' throat in response to Nyx's cries is nearly as loud as those cries themselves. The wild heat filling every part of his body is as unfamiliar as it is welcome, electricity crackling along the edges, a storm as dangerous as it is enticing.
For the moment, his focus remains on nipple that had pulled such delightful reactions from the Glaive on his lap. In the back of his mind, Regis can't help but wonder if Nyx is just this sensitive, or if--and this is his pride speaking--he's got a fair bit to do with that. Whatever the answer, he seals his mouth over the nub, sucking, tongue and teeth teasing with as much force as the Glaive had teased his wrist with earlier. He only releases his hold when he feels Nyx drop his hand down to his pants, scrambling to get them open.]
Here, here. I've got you. [His breath slides over damp skin as he shifts so he can bring one of his hands between them, nudging Nyx's away as he has a better angle to help with this particular troublesome issue. It's just a matter of a few seconds to deal with the zipper, but Regis is hardly ready to stop there. He may be a tease, but he's not that guy.
Not that he thinks Nyx needs any encouragement to wiggle out of his pants, but just in case, Regis tucks his fingers under the material to help slide it down far enough to free the Glaive's cock. Fire flashes in Regis' eyes and Nyx will find the fingers that close around him are slightly, though not uncomfortably, warmer than usual. The touches start gentle, but by the time his fingers reach the tip, the strokes are firmer and more confident before he twists his hand to start back up the shaft.]
[If Regis continues mauling his chest he will find that it's a bit of a combination of the two. Because the right side is not nearly so sensitive but, just as the heat of his mouth over those scars on the left side of his chest got an elevated reaction so too does the nipple on that side. Everything hypersensitive where the magic flickers so close to the skin. Something that is very clear as Regis works his teeth over the nub, drawing cries and curses from Nyx.
When the king finally pulls away enough to murmur against his chest Nyx is panting, sharp heavy breaths and his gaze gone distant and foggy with pleasure when he finally lifts his head to look down on the other man. The fingers in Regis' hair slowly uncurl a little, shifting his grip down to brace himself against the back of his neck, the top of one shoulder. He watches Regis' deft hands unfasten his pants and grinning something wild and feral at the heat in his king's gaze.]
Yeah... you got me.
[Muttered breathlessly and it's only after he's said it that the deeper implications of the words really register in his brain. Oh... oh.
But it's true isn't it? Wasn't that precisely why he'd come here? What had gotten them to this point in the first place. Nyx was utterly captivated by the man beneath him and every moment they've spent together in private has only validated all the curiosities and hopes and longings he's been harboring for years now.
Yeah, he's belonged to the Crown for nearly a decade but now, finally, he belongs to Regis. As much as a wild creature can belong to anyone.
There's a moment there where he thinks he should say something else, something more. Either to laugh it off or make it more than it was. But then Regis' hands are pulling his pants down around his thighs, strong fingers wrap around him and he's lost again. Another sharp cry, his voice already starting to go rough as he bucks up into Regis' hand.
His head falls back, he arches... and it's only the anchoring grip of his arm across Regis' shoulder that keeps him from tumbling backwards of his lap. A huff of breath that's nearly a laugh and then Nyx drags himself forward again, fingers catching at silvered hair to yank Regis' head back, crashing his lips to the king's, leaning into his grip and bringing the hand that's free now up to latch onto the top of the chair back. Suddenly he's so grateful for the Lucian decadence that gives him such a sturdy hand hold and the leverage to move his hips against both the hand working him so skillfully and the swell of Regis beneath him.]
[The silence that comes after that statement is unexpected. Regis waits several moments for some kind of smart, if breathless, comment to soften the deeper meaning that lies behind those words, but when it doesn't come, he pauses, looking up to take in Nyx's expression. The need is still there, but something else darkens those pale eyes. A realization, perhaps. Good, but something the Glaive hadn't been expecting. It causes Regis to pause in his actions, leaning up to press a much gentler kiss to Nyx's lips, fondness breaking through the heat in his own gaze.]
Forever. [The word is exhaled more than spoken against Nyx's lips and then Regis returns to his previous actions, the kiss that follows once more intense. He doesn't want to let Nyx fall too far into his own mind right now. Not when the Glaive has done so much to keep him out of his own.
When he sets his fingers back to work, the touch is firmer and this time he lets his fingers linger when they reach the tip of Nyx's cock, thumb spreading the dampness there. At the same time, his other hand slides up over the Glaive's hip, fingers splaying across his back and digging in there, one more anchor to keep the younger man from tumbling from his lap.]
Tell me what you want. [It takes some time to get the request gasped out between kisses and the need to catch his breath, not that Regis is in a hurry. He's finally let himself go to the heat and haze, soaking in each feeling, sound, and sight like one who may never experience any of it again. There is a push forward, but it is for more, not a rush to conclusion.]
It's enough to still his breath in his chest, make time stop for a span of heartbeats, something fragile and needy flickering through his gaze, a stunned surge of emotion that is not at all like the hot crackle of power that's been so common tonight but something softer, a shivering kind of warmth.
It's not fair, it's not true. It can't be, neither of them can make any guarantees about their own longevity but the fact that Regis, so careful with his words, would say it anyway... It's an offer, he knows that much, not a promise but still a statement of intent. That this man would even give him that much... It's more than he deserves, and yet when Regis captures him in another fierce kiss he returns it with every ounce of his being. More than he deserves but he will grab the opportunity with hands and teeth and never let go.
The kiss is bruising and demanding, whimpers and moans spilling out onto Regis' tongue and when he draws back enough to not only breathe but speak he has to start several times before Nyx allows him enough room to form the words. His mouth returns to Regis' throat, this time to the left, lips and tongue hot over the network of scars.
But he doesn't answer, doesn't trust himself to form words that won't be thick with not just pleasure but emotion he's not quite prepared to deal with just now. Instead he lets one hand move, shifting back to grab at Regis' bruised wrist, guiding his hand lower, not his back but his ass, and over a touch more, letting Regis' fingertips dip between the swell of muscle.]
[Promises are pretty, fragile little things far more at home in story and song where they won't be twisted and warped to serve whatever purpose their holders hide in their hearts. It's intent and action that get things done in reality and as such those things have always been the forces that directed Regis' life. Even years ago when he allowed himself to give into the fancy there might be a way to change Noctis' fate as the Chosen if he just looked hard enough, he never stepped completely away from those things, and it was they that eventually drew him back and allowed him to accept that some things cannot be changed no matter how much hope and goodwill drove his intent.
This intent is different from that one, though, for it's not based on a fanciful wish, but in reality. Regis knows he may only have a few more years before the Crystal's drain takes him from this world--perhaps even less if the Empire's incursions continue to become more aggressive--but he also knows that unlike others, his presence on this plane of existence won't end with his death. His soul will be bound to the Ring, and Astrals willing, Nyx will continue to defy death long enough to serve at his son's side as well. It won't be the same as being there physically with him, but he will still be able to watch over him.
Less logically, Regis has always been the kind to carry parts of those he's met within his heart. Nyx earned a place there when he was a much younger man, hurt, angry, and above all, determined--a fighter just like those that make up the Lucis Caelum line have always been. Much like Regis always has been.
And so Regis states his intent without hesitation or doubt for whatever form of 'forever' that may be granted to them.
After that statement of intent, though, words become unnecessary, the shift in the air around them and the flicker of emotions across Nyx's face telling more than they ever could. The storm has lessened, but not blown itself out. This is the eye. The place of safety, of calm and rest before the dangers beyond return. It's only here that Regis truly and fully lets everything wash over him, finally taking the time to feel and acknowledge his own reactions--the sparks of need that each press of lips against his neck create, how uncomfortably tight his own pants have become--instead of focusing on those of the man in his lap. He falls more with each kiss, almost forgetting he even asked the question until Nyx talks a hold of his wrist to move his hand lower in a wordless answer.]
Are you certain?
[The question is soft, asked not because Regis doubts that Nyx knows exactly what he wants, but because his position demands absolute certainty. This he cannot let go no matter how close they've been tonight.
He turns his head, pressing his lips into Nyx's hair.]
[He has no intention of answering that question at first, growling annoyance against Regis' throat, teeth a sharp reprimand for asking something so foolishly obvious. A roll of his hips, arching back to press harder against Regis' hand...
And then that soft apology that makes him grumble but finally draw back from his throat for a moment. It doesn't click, immediately, why the king is pressing this issue so hard, but once it does he slumps against him, forehead thunking down onto the older man's shoulder with a groan, the eye roll audible in his exhalation. Fucking politics.
Then Nyx's lips are back on his throat, soft kisses this time instead of teeth. Up until Nyx can flick his tongue against the shell of Regis' ear. His cheek pressed to Regis' rubbing against him like some giant cat scent marking him, shivering at the way Regis' beard catches at his own stubble and the skin beneath.
And for the first time since Regis answered him so smoothly in the tongue of Galahd Nyx falls back into Lucian, the words still clicking a little with the accent carried over from his own language, making the words harder, sharper and more vulgar even.]
Fuck. Me. [A rush of hot breath over the king's ear, a huff of amusement as Nyx rocks his hips down against him.] Heh... sir.
[Then he snaps his teeth together, letting them click sharply in Regis' ear, a warning as much as the mockery of that title. His patience with the politicking will only stretch so far.]
[In those moments while Regis is waiting for his answer, he realizes that he may have been very wrong about some of the things he's considered unchangeable truths. At this rate, it's not going to be the Crystal or even the Empire that's the death of him, but Nyx Fucking Ulric instead. That shift from heat and bite to gentle warmth sets his body aflame at every point where their skin comes into contact. His blood and the magic within sing, telling him he should just forget he asked the question, that he needs to take this one last precaution, and Regis has to scramble to gather what few shards of his control remain in order to deny the request.
Those shards of control are scattered once more when Nyx finally gives his answer, the sharp short words driving a groan from his lips. Regis barely has the presence of mind to release the hold he has on the Glaive's cock before the shudder hits him. When he settles his hand again, this time against Nyx's hip, it's still shaking. His eyes are hazy when he turns them toward Nyx, his voice is soft, though, steady when he speaks.
It's not much, but Regis is going to take a little bit of pride in that.]
As you wish. If it is any comfort, sir has now retired for the evening.
[His fingers press harder into Nyx's hip as much to steady the remaining tremors in them as to feel skin and muscle under them.]
Third drawer down in the dresser. There's a box that will have all we need. Just ignore the fact the tag on the top says it's from my son.
[Nyx does roll his eyes this time, rumbling in Regis ear.]
You want me to call you sir in the bedroom we gotta have a talk first.
[A faint laugh, amused and as heated as things are, as much as he wants, that last question, more conversation and comments and things that require more thinking than just responding to his king's touch leave that fire banked subtly. He sighs, leans into Regis a little, just basking in the feeling of the other man against him instead of pushing for anything more for the moment.
Eye of the storm indeed.
As soon as the direction is offered he's looking to the side, judging the distance. And then he bursts out laughing, leaning back from Regis to flash him a Look, clearly awaiting the rest of that story.
While he could use the time to simply lean over and stretch and access the drawer in question he has to finally surrender to the fact that he will, in fact, have to take his feet again. He shifts his weight to one side, shimmies back a little, trails light kisses down Regis' chest as he goes. Eventually rolling back to his feet from the older man's lap with a resigned sigh.
He toes off his boots and kicks off both pants and boxers as he stumbles away from him to the dresser in question. This box better damn well be worth it.]
[Regis does really regret having to ask the question, but caution is how he's managed to make it through so much of his reign without scandal. At least with that out of the way, he doesn't have to worry about the responsibilities of his position anymore.
And, honestly, having Nyx settled against him is just as good a feeling as what they were doing before, just at a different level of intensity.
When Nyx finally decides to get the box, Regis' eyes follow him, the parting kisses causing his breathing to speed again. He'd be disappointed once completely alone in the chair again if he didn't have such a good show to watch as a distraction. How can one be disappointed when give the chance to watch more of that tanned skin appear? Regis shifts in the chair so he can settle his chin in one hand, eyes twinkling as he does. He'd not realized until now just how many small tattoos Nyx had and he knows each one has a story. It's going to be great fun finding them all out.
It's only once Nyx has finished stripping and pulled the box from the dresser that Regis finally starts to share the story. The box itself is a decently-sized gift box, bright, glittery, and as mentioned, baring a tag on the top that says in larger letters 'With love, Noctis.'
Regis can't help but chuckle as he looks at the box. So much trouble over such a silly thing.]
A few years back some brilliant member of the Crownsguard decided it would be a nice gesture for one of the graduating class to give the king a gift on behalf of the whole class. The gifts were practical once and then someone decided to make the tradition more interesting.
[Regis pauses a moment, amusement shinning in his eyes.]
One of the first gag gifts appeared with Gladiolus Amicitia's name one it. A few years later one followed with Ignis Scientia's name on it. Apparently, my son's Shield and Advisor decided that he shouldn't be left out of the tradition and approached him with the idea of giving me this year's gift. Of course, he resisted claiming it was silly for him to do such a thing considering I'm his dad and if he wanted to give me a gift he could at any time. I never was able to get them to tell me what they bribed Noctis with to finally get him to sign the tag, but he did so without ever knowing what they were going to put in it. He trusted them and well... [Regis motions toward the box inviting Nyx to open it. Inside he will find lube, condoms and several other choice items meant to help 'spice up' the king's non-resistant sex life.]
Needless to say, afterward I had a talk with said young men and let them know that while I don't mind a good prank, should Noctis ever find out what was sent to me under his name, it would be the last prank either of them played. I really have no wish for my son to die of embarrassment so young.
[Nyx is grinning like a fool as Regis explains this little tradition, imagining how scandalized the Prince, never mind most of the Guard he's encountered, would be to know what their King owns... and also who he's going to be using it with.
He's quick to flick the lid off, tossing it aside carelessly to rummage through the box. Lube, condoms, flavored condoms and he lifts those up with a wicked grin and a wink.]
Later~
[And then he pulls out a small box with two bottles in it, one blue and one red. Lube, and massage oil supposedly, one tingling, one warming and Nyx can't help laughing at that.]
They forget you have magic? All the heat we need right here.
[And as he says it he steps in close again, waggling his fingers at Regis before trailing one down the bared expanse of his chest, letting the heat of magic flicker from his fingertip to lick along the king's skin. His finger dips down, letting his nail scrape slightly at the hair line leading down to his pants.
Then Nyx is leaning in abruptly, dragging his tongue back up the line he'd just drawn, a sharp chill following in the wake of his mouth, hot and cold sharply contrasted even as the box gets dumped onto the rug so his fingers can start working on Regis' pants.
[As he watches Nyx rifle through the box, Regis can't help but think that the Glaive looks like a kid in a candy store. Okay, so maybe that isn't the right metaphor; the expression on Nyx's face is nowhere near pure enough.
A horny man in his favorite adult supply store? Yes, that fits much better.]
If I recall correctly, those were young Gladiolus' addition. Perhaps you should thank him the next time you see him. [Honestly, Regis will never understand what his son's Shield had been thinking when he gave away that little bit of information during their talk. If Clarus hadn't been so disgruntled with the whole tradition, Regis would've had to ask him what exactly he was teaching his son about the importance of keeping certain things secret.
Regis straightens in the chair when Nyx finally abandons the box and makes his way back. The second item the Glaive pulls out causes him to have to fight the urge to roll his eyes just as much now as he did when he first saw it.]
That particular item was chosen by a young man who would have an aneurysm if he were made to think about the Crystal's magic being used in such a way.
[He loves you like a son, Ignis, but sometimes you are just too much. Pedestals so high are dangerous, and not the good kind of dangerous.
And speaking of the good kind of dangerous...
Regis' eyes fix on the fingers that make their way down his chest, green gaze holding just as much heat as radiates against his skin. By the time those teasing fingers make their way to the waistband of his pants, the banked passion from before has completely unfurled back to a roaring blaze. It makes that change in temperature all the more electric when it comes, and Regis' mind blanks out for a moment as he arches into Nyx's mouth, one hand finding its way into the Glaive's hair without any conscious choice being made to do it.
As if determined not to let Regis catch his breath, Nyx moves his attention to his pants next, which is both a blessing and a curse. Once more they are quickly becoming uncomfortable and the Glaive's hands are not helping with that one bit; all things considered, that's probably the point.
His fingers tighten slightly against Nyx's scalp, just enough to get his attention in case the breathless and hoarse whisper that follows isn't enough.]
As much as I like your hands right where they are, you may want to finish with the brace before you get too caught up there.
Edited (Of course I find a typo right after hitting send!) 2018-12-01 04:27 (UTC)
[There may well be a time when Nyx makes some sassy remark in Gladio's general direction about cherry being his favorite flavor. He's reasonably sure Gladiolus wouldn't get it.
Reasonably.
Later, there'll be time to joke around and consider that thought more fully, Later, he can explore some of these stories Regis has. For now he's rather preoccupied reveling in the responses he can draw out of the king. Feeling Regis arching up into his touch is exhilarating, and then fingers twisting into his hair draw a soft groan against Regis chest, teeth finding the edge of his collarbone.
It's the reminder that stops him from laving attention on the spot, instead making him put a little space between them again. A smirk, a flash of feral teeth and then Nyx is dropping to his knees once more. It takes him only the barest of moments to get Regis' pants unfastened the rest of the way, pulling them open just enough to be able to free him.
Undoubtedly, it will take longer, unfastening the brace by feel instead of by sight, but Nyx wastes no time leaning forward to take Regis' cock into his mouth, shallow and teasing little flicks of his tongue as his hands feel along the brace for clasps and closures.]
[It hasn't even been one night yet and Regis has already begun cataloging that smirk and flash of teeth as both something to be wary of and something to be thrilled by. Of course, considering where Nyx's hands currently are, it's the touch of fingers he's expecting, not the warm dampness of a mouth.
Regis' mind stutters to a halt once more, the moan pulled from his throat cutting off halfway as if his breath has been stolen away. Fingers of one hand tighten in Nyx's hair unconsciously, while those of the other seek out the Glaive's shoulder for some kind of stability. It's been so long and those teasing flicks of Nyx's tongue are enough to nearly drive him mad. He tries just once to gather the breath needed to speak and then quickly lets go of the idea completely, giving into the sensations running through him as he lets his head drop back against the chair with another moan.
It's almost a shame Regis is so caught up in the feelings running through him because it means he totally misses what task is busying Nyx's hands. Such skilled multitasking really should be applauded. One more thing for later it seems.]
[Nyx has no intention of doing more than tasting and teasing, swirling his tongue around the head of his king's cock and humming a pleased sound that he intentionally makes louder to let the vibrations add to the heat. He lifts his gaze, watches Regis slump back against the chair, stifles the urge to grin when the older man ends up clinging to him to steady himself.
And even as he does it his hands tug at each leather strap, unfastening clever metal hooks and clips. At least once he makes a sharp noise of protest as a clasp pinches his fingers. He doesn't let it distract from his task though, apologizing for the jerk and the sound with soft suckles.
Eventually he has to lean back, letting Regis slip from his mouth with a messy, wet slurping sound, obviously intentional because if he can't make the king be at least a little dirty then where's the fun in that?
Then he's sitting back on his heels, hands guiding Regis to extend his leg so that he can pull the brace off, far more respectful this time when he sets it aside and out of the way.]
[It's the disruption of rhythm and the pained sound that draws Regis back out of his haze, not so much any kind of discomfort. His tolerance for pain and discomfort are unfortunately high after so many years with them as his constant companions.
One pale green eye opens--and honestly, Regis isn't sure when he closed his eyes, but it obviously happened--and he has just a moment to turn a questioning look in Nyx's direction before the Glaive settles again, gentle and attentive. With a soft moan, Regis lets his eye fall closed again, the hand he has in Nyx's hair releasing its hold slightly, so his fingers can stroke gently instead of pull.
When Nyx finally pulls away, Regis finds himself torn embarrassingly between chuckling at the exaggerated way it's done and whining lowly at the lost sensation. The sound he produces is not really one or the other, which means he will not admit to the latter part no matter what.
Of course, considering Nyx's current track record, he will probably find a way to break through that 'no matter what,' but that's a worry for later.
Regis opens his eyes again when he feels the gentle tug on his leg and he can't help but smile when he fuzzy brain actually puts together what the Glaive was up to.]
[Oh he doesn't have to admit to anything and that's made clear by the pleased smirk he flashes at Regis. It happened and they both know it. He doesn't need to say so.]
Something like that.
[Now that the brace is unfastened and out of the way though all the gentleness bleeds away in a rush, eager to get himself as close to the other man as possible. Shoes pried off and tossed carelessly out of the way, one sock falling dangerously close to the fire before Nyx snatches it out of the way.
Then he's finally back to his feet, hands going to Regis' waistband. A slight nudge, encouragement to lift his hips before Nyx yanks the king's pant's off as well.
For a fleeting moment he steps back, hums a low appreciative sound as he drops pants and underwear away and simply appreciates the man before him.]
Fucking hell, Regis.
[It's the only warning the other man gets before Nyx is on top of him, crashing their lips together in another heated kiss even as he clambers into Regis' lap. ]
[Certainly there are many situations where Nyx's eagerness has gotten him into trouble, but this isn't one of them. Regis had been ready to help with removing the rest of his clothing once the brace was gone, but that would have given him time to start thinking again and the direction that train of thought would have taken would have been nothing short of disastrous for the current mood. It would have let him remember just how much he hates the shape his body's in; how much he's lost to the Crystal's drain over just the last few years; how there is no way he can compare to eager young man with him.
Astrals, even if he didn't have the mobility issues, when would he have time to train? How many times recently has he had to all but order people to allow Clarus time to train for his primary role?
It's impossible to think about these things with Nyx's hands on him, though. Regis' mind focuses on the way battle-worn fingers slide over his skin and the trails of heat left in their wake. When Nyx expresses his appreciation, Regis even finds himself chuckling, or at least, starting to. The end of the sound is lost in the crash of lips that follow it, in the heat and electricity that burns anew between them once they are back in contact. It doesn't take long for one of his hands to make its way into the Glaive's hair again, sliding up his neck to settle at the back of his head. The other hand takes longer to settle, though, since Regis has no intention of breaking their kiss or those that follow in order to look at the exact positioning of their bodies. Instead, he relies on wandering touches to get Nyx to shift until they are close enough he can wrap his hand around both their cocks and give them a slow stroke.]
[Nyx does his best to remain a man of action at all times. Introspection happens, of course, but he sure as hell tries to keep it to a minimum. It's something he's going to have to keep an eye on for Regis as well, at least when they're together. When he can.
Another thing he's going to have to do is make Regis laugh more, even if it's just the low chuckles that he's managed to swallow a few times now. The feeling of that low vibration against his lips, the way his lips slant under his mouth, the way it makes beard and mustache shift and twitch against his face... it's all enough to make him hum his own satisfaction back, kissing his king a little harder. There's something so gratifying about feeling the evidence of Regis contentment as much as his pleasure.
It distracts him, briefly, from the spark of heat between them and leaves him utterly unprepared for the jolt of pleasure when Regis' fingers curl around them both. Nyx jerks up into the other man's hand, head snapping back and his fingers digging hard into Regis' shoulder.]
Fuck!
[Sparks jump from his fingertips, tingling sharply along the skin of Regis' shoulder before he reigns it back in, channeling the swell of power into something more controlled as he lets his other hand slide down the older man's chest, keeping his fingers hovering just above the skin to let the electricity arc between them.]
[There's something awe-inspiring about the sheer amount of passion there is in Nyx's reaction. Regis isn't sure what specifically makes him think that. Perhaps, it's the bend of the Glaive's neck as he throws his head back. Maybe it's the way his braids slide along his skin, one defying the others to settle into the space between his neck and shoulder. For just a moment, Regis finds himself fighting the urge to lean forward and take that errant braid into his mouth to see the kind of reaction pulling it might cause.
Of course, stopping to think about it is his mistake for Nyx has already begun to recover, redirecting the very literal sparks flying between them into something more purposeful. It's not just the use of magic that draws the low moan from Regis' lips, though; it's that focus, that control, coming so closely on the heels of that moment of unrestrained wildness. There's a beauty to it...and hasn't he used that word a lot tonight to describe this man? There are others, but something about using those words seems wrong to Regis. One implies being tamed, another conformation, and another timidity.
Nyx Ulric is none of those things.]
You're so beautiful. If I knew which deity was responsible for your making, I would shower them in praise. [Despite the breathless, pretty words, Regis hasn't allowed the hand working between them to still, fingers quickening at times, slowing at others, never quite settling into a steady pattern.]
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hardbargain) wrote2018-11-08 08:23 pm
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[That is probably not what Nyx was expecting when he asked Regis to keep speaking, but it does prove one thing very definitely--the polite and proper Lucian King below him knows full well what he said. He was a much younger man when he learned the language, after all. There are a great many phrases he learned purely for the fun of it, and perhaps, so his tutors could take pride in the fact they had taught him such things.
Had Mors ever found out, he would have had them exiled if not worse. It's a good thing he never found out.
The laugh that starts to follow that statement gets swallowed by Nyx's kiss, transforming into a low growl at the back of his throat as he meets every bit of Nyx's demanding with his own. He doesn't even give the state of his shirt a second thought because he's finally got the Glaive close enough to get his hands on. Fingers trace over the network of scarring that marks Nyx's chest and for a moment, Regis can't help but feel pained knowing the how badly the Crystal's magic has already marred the young man. There's a strange sort of kinship he feels too, for his knows they share this; his own chest is marred even worse. The price of power, even as freely given as it is.
He turns his head, bringing his mouth nearer to Nyx's ear. When he speaks, his voice is more breathless than before, but his control of the language isn't hindered by it or by the fact that his attention is split as his hands slide down across Nyx's ribs and up his back, fingers carefully mapping out every scar as they come across them.]
What will you have me say, my wild one? Shall I tell you how honored I am that one so untamed would waste even a moment for another locked away in a cage of his own making? Shall I explain how watching you makes me feel more alive than I have in years? Do you have any idea how relieved I am we arrived in time to keep you from slipping away from this world?
[Regis pauses then, moving just enough so he can press his lips to the edge of Nyx's ear.]
Or, perhaps I should leave the pretty words behind and speak of things decidedly less pure?
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For a moment Nyx wonders how the hell his king can make full sentences like that, eloquent and practiced if a little breathless. It's unfair, the control he has. It could be age but Nyx is pretty sure given another twenty years he still wouldn't be so composed, certainly not with an eager young thing in his lap.
Which is as much a challenge as the words and looks earlier had been.
Nyx's hands smooth down Regis' chest, fingers confident and unafraid of the scars that sprawl there, deeper and more elaborate than his own but it shows that the king favors his left side too, the web of lines marching up his neck, down his shoulder.]
You can do the pretty shit later.
[Low and rough, murmured against his collarbone before there's a series of sharp nips up along his collar, all the way up to his throat. Nyx lays himself forward, chest to chest, reveling in the heat of the other man and shifting so he can roll his hips down against him, the movement smooth and almost unnatural as though he were not entirely human at all but carried the coeurl's same fluid grace and flexible spine.]
Fuck. Regis...
[The movement is enough to have his breath leaving him in a sharp whine that he muffles against Regis' throat, teeth going to work on a very different pulse point this time.]
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His hands slide back down Nyx's back resting first on his hips, then drifting lower before he pulls the Glaive as close to him as he can, rolling up to meet his motion and holding him there. Regis might not have the flexibility that Nyx has, but he does still has some strength at his disposal.]
And what if I want to do the pretty little shit now?
[It takes a second to judge the leverage he needs to shift them, but then Regis slides to the side enough that he can finally set his mouth against Nyx's skin, pressing lips and then teeth against the area where his collarbone meets his shoulder. When he pulls back a moment later, it is only to make a request before setting back to work.]
Stop muffling yourself. I want to hear your roars.
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Then I need to get my pants off.
[Breathless but much of the teasing is gone, replaced with need and the dramatic reactions to every bit of sensation he gets. The heat of Regis' mouth on his shoulder, the gentle scratch of beard against his skin, the spike of heat the words send through him. It all has him squirming, pressing purposefully down against Regis' groin but also trying to push up towards his mouth in the same breath. Breaths that come faster and harder.]
Sure your -Shit tha's good- guard won't be... worried?
[But even as he asks it he's surrendered the grip on Regis' throat, head falling back as he rocks down, hands splayed over the king's chest. His fingers press hard into the muscle there then slide down, blunt nails snagging at the ridges of scars, down to his sides where pain and disuse has softened the edges of what had once been a powerful build. His nails bite harder, a sharp sting against the softer skin of his sides, below his ribs, anchoring himself as he moves and offers the full span of his chest to Regis' mouth.]
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[The smirk that accompanies those words is clear in both tone and on the lips that press into Nyx's skin. Regis does move his hands, fingers dipping under the waistband of the Glaive's pants, but he makes no real move to remove them. Instead, he lets himself savor the feel of the fingers that explore his chest and scrape down his sides. There's no attempt to hold back groan or the shiver the sensation draws from him; once more he's quickly being reduced to mess of reactions all wishing to come out at once after being bottled up for so long.]
The guards have very specific instructions for what they are and are not to acknowledge hearing, and they have held their positions for some time. I have no worries about their ability to hold their tongues.
[Regis chuckles softly as his mouth begins following the scars that cover so much of Nyx's chest, paying close attention to each, burning them into his memory.]
Quite honestly, they will probably be too busy dividing up bet winnings with each other to care about much else.
[Is Regis aware of the fact his guards have a betting pool about if he will ever take a lover again and who it might be? Of course he is and has found himself quite amused by the antics over the years. For a split second, he can't help but wonder who came closest to predicting this particular outcome and by what odds he will be winning, then his attention is pulled back to where it should be, teeth scraping sharply over the nipple his explorations have led him to.]
Howl for me, Wild One.
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The trailing heat of Regis' mouth over his chest only has his nails digging in harder, scrabbling for purchase on the other man's sides, his nails trimmed down so close he barely has enough to hold onto him with. Especially skimming over the fine web of scars that spark and burn with the sensations, blue-violet light dancing under his skin, the glow of magic drawn up from within him to answer each touch.
He starts to laugh, breathless and overwhelmed.]
Least 'm making someone a prof- AH!
[He doesn't need the request from Regis, teeth scrape over his nipple and he's already crying out, arching into it. One hand drops from Regis' side to slam into his hair again, the electricity burning through the air making the touch crackle loudly before he finds purchase, pulling hard, holding Regis' mouth against his chest as best he can.]
Fuck Reg- swear to gods...
[It's possibly a little awkward, holding Regis to his chest while he's panting and breathless and also still rocking in his lap. Only to get moreso when his other hand slips away from Regis' side to drop down to his own pants, twisting his hand to undo the button and try to find enough space to shimmy the zip down.]
If you're not gonna-
Welp, since Someone's finally decided to commit better get a [SMUT WARNING] on this!
For the moment, his focus remains on nipple that had pulled such delightful reactions from the Glaive on his lap. In the back of his mind, Regis can't help but wonder if Nyx is just this sensitive, or if--and this is his pride speaking--he's got a fair bit to do with that. Whatever the answer, he seals his mouth over the nub, sucking, tongue and teeth teasing with as much force as the Glaive had teased his wrist with earlier. He only releases his hold when he feels Nyx drop his hand down to his pants, scrambling to get them open.]
Here, here. I've got you.
[His breath slides over damp skin as he shifts so he can bring one of his hands between them, nudging Nyx's away as he has a better angle to help with this particular troublesome issue. It's just a matter of a few seconds to deal with the zipper, but Regis is hardly ready to stop there. He may be a tease, but he's not that guy.
Not that he thinks Nyx needs any encouragement to wiggle out of his pants, but just in case, Regis tucks his fingers under the material to help slide it down far enough to free the Glaive's cock. Fire flashes in Regis' eyes and Nyx will find the fingers that close around him are slightly, though not uncomfortably, warmer than usual. The touches start gentle, but by the time his fingers reach the tip, the strokes are firmer and more confident before he twists his hand to start back up the shaft.]
Better?
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When the king finally pulls away enough to murmur against his chest Nyx is panting, sharp heavy breaths and his gaze gone distant and foggy with pleasure when he finally lifts his head to look down on the other man. The fingers in Regis' hair slowly uncurl a little, shifting his grip down to brace himself against the back of his neck, the top of one shoulder. He watches Regis' deft hands unfasten his pants and grinning something wild and feral at the heat in his king's gaze.]
Yeah... you got me.
[Muttered breathlessly and it's only after he's said it that the deeper implications of the words really register in his brain. Oh... oh.
But it's true isn't it? Wasn't that precisely why he'd come here? What had gotten them to this point in the first place. Nyx was utterly captivated by the man beneath him and every moment they've spent together in private has only validated all the curiosities and hopes and longings he's been harboring for years now.
Yeah, he's belonged to the Crown for nearly a decade but now, finally, he belongs to Regis. As much as a wild creature can belong to anyone.
There's a moment there where he thinks he should say something else, something more. Either to laugh it off or make it more than it was. But then Regis' hands are pulling his pants down around his thighs, strong fingers wrap around him and he's lost again. Another sharp cry, his voice already starting to go rough as he bucks up into Regis' hand.
His head falls back, he arches... and it's only the anchoring grip of his arm across Regis' shoulder that keeps him from tumbling backwards of his lap. A huff of breath that's nearly a laugh and then Nyx drags himself forward again, fingers catching at silvered hair to yank Regis' head back, crashing his lips to the king's, leaning into his grip and bringing the hand that's free now up to latch onto the top of the chair back. Suddenly he's so grateful for the Lucian decadence that gives him such a sturdy hand hold and the leverage to move his hips against both the hand working him so skillfully and the swell of Regis beneath him.]
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Forever.
[The word is exhaled more than spoken against Nyx's lips and then Regis returns to his previous actions, the kiss that follows once more intense. He doesn't want to let Nyx fall too far into his own mind right now. Not when the Glaive has done so much to keep him out of his own.
When he sets his fingers back to work, the touch is firmer and this time he lets his fingers linger when they reach the tip of Nyx's cock, thumb spreading the dampness there. At the same time, his other hand slides up over the Glaive's hip, fingers splaying across his back and digging in there, one more anchor to keep the younger man from tumbling from his lap.]
Tell me what you want.
[It takes some time to get the request gasped out between kisses and the need to catch his breath, not that Regis is in a hurry. He's finally let himself go to the heat and haze, soaking in each feeling, sound, and sight like one who may never experience any of it again. There is a push forward, but it is for more, not a rush to conclusion.]
What do you need?
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Vunajan.
It's enough to still his breath in his chest, make time stop for a span of heartbeats, something fragile and needy flickering through his gaze, a stunned surge of emotion that is not at all like the hot crackle of power that's been so common tonight but something softer, a shivering kind of warmth.
It's not fair, it's not true. It can't be, neither of them can make any guarantees about their own longevity but the fact that Regis, so careful with his words, would say it anyway... It's an offer, he knows that much, not a promise but still a statement of intent. That this man would even give him that much... It's more than he deserves, and yet when Regis captures him in another fierce kiss he returns it with every ounce of his being. More than he deserves but he will grab the opportunity with hands and teeth and never let go.
The kiss is bruising and demanding, whimpers and moans spilling out onto Regis' tongue and when he draws back enough to not only breathe but speak he has to start several times before Nyx allows him enough room to form the words. His mouth returns to Regis' throat, this time to the left, lips and tongue hot over the network of scars.
But he doesn't answer, doesn't trust himself to form words that won't be thick with not just pleasure but emotion he's not quite prepared to deal with just now. Instead he lets one hand move, shifting back to grab at Regis' bruised wrist, guiding his hand lower, not his back but his ass, and over a touch more, letting Regis' fingertips dip between the swell of muscle.]
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This intent is different from that one, though, for it's not based on a fanciful wish, but in reality. Regis knows he may only have a few more years before the Crystal's drain takes him from this world--perhaps even less if the Empire's incursions continue to become more aggressive--but he also knows that unlike others, his presence on this plane of existence won't end with his death. His soul will be bound to the Ring, and Astrals willing, Nyx will continue to defy death long enough to serve at his son's side as well. It won't be the same as being there physically with him, but he will still be able to watch over him.
Less logically, Regis has always been the kind to carry parts of those he's met within his heart. Nyx earned a place there when he was a much younger man, hurt, angry, and above all, determined--a fighter just like those that make up the Lucis Caelum line have always been. Much like Regis always has been.
And so Regis states his intent without hesitation or doubt for whatever form of 'forever' that may be granted to them.
After that statement of intent, though, words become unnecessary, the shift in the air around them and the flicker of emotions across Nyx's face telling more than they ever could. The storm has lessened, but not blown itself out. This is the eye. The place of safety, of calm and rest before the dangers beyond return. It's only here that Regis truly and fully lets everything wash over him, finally taking the time to feel and acknowledge his own reactions--the sparks of need that each press of lips against his neck create, how uncomfortably tight his own pants have become--instead of focusing on those of the man in his lap. He falls more with each kiss, almost forgetting he even asked the question until Nyx talks a hold of his wrist to move his hand lower in a wordless answer.]
Are you certain?
[The question is soft, asked not because Regis doubts that Nyx knows exactly what he wants, but because his position demands absolute certainty. This he cannot let go no matter how close they've been tonight.
He turns his head, pressing his lips into Nyx's hair.]
Forgive me, Wild One. I need you to say it.
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And then that soft apology that makes him grumble but finally draw back from his throat for a moment. It doesn't click, immediately, why the king is pressing this issue so hard, but once it does he slumps against him, forehead thunking down onto the older man's shoulder with a groan, the eye roll audible in his exhalation. Fucking politics.
Then Nyx's lips are back on his throat, soft kisses this time instead of teeth. Up until Nyx can flick his tongue against the shell of Regis' ear. His cheek pressed to Regis' rubbing against him like some giant cat scent marking him, shivering at the way Regis' beard catches at his own stubble and the skin beneath.
And for the first time since Regis answered him so smoothly in the tongue of Galahd Nyx falls back into Lucian, the words still clicking a little with the accent carried over from his own language, making the words harder, sharper and more vulgar even.]
Fuck. Me. [A rush of hot breath over the king's ear, a huff of amusement as Nyx rocks his hips down against him.] Heh... sir.
[Then he snaps his teeth together, letting them click sharply in Regis' ear, a warning as much as the mockery of that title. His patience with the politicking will only stretch so far.]
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Those shards of control are scattered once more when Nyx finally gives his answer, the sharp short words driving a groan from his lips. Regis barely has the presence of mind to release the hold he has on the Glaive's cock before the shudder hits him. When he settles his hand again, this time against Nyx's hip, it's still shaking. His eyes are hazy when he turns them toward Nyx, his voice is soft, though, steady when he speaks.
It's not much, but Regis is going to take a little bit of pride in that.]
As you wish. If it is any comfort, sir has now retired for the evening.
[His fingers press harder into Nyx's hip as much to steady the remaining tremors in them as to feel skin and muscle under them.]
Third drawer down in the dresser. There's a box that will have all we need. Just ignore the fact the tag on the top says it's from my son.
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You want me to call you sir in the bedroom we gotta have a talk first.
[A faint laugh, amused and as heated as things are, as much as he wants, that last question, more conversation and comments and things that require more thinking than just responding to his king's touch leave that fire banked subtly. He sighs, leans into Regis a little, just basking in the feeling of the other man against him instead of pushing for anything more for the moment.
Eye of the storm indeed.
As soon as the direction is offered he's looking to the side, judging the distance. And then he bursts out laughing, leaning back from Regis to flash him a Look, clearly awaiting the rest of that story.
While he could use the time to simply lean over and stretch and access the drawer in question he has to finally surrender to the fact that he will, in fact, have to take his feet again. He shifts his weight to one side, shimmies back a little, trails light kisses down Regis' chest as he goes. Eventually rolling back to his feet from the older man's lap with a resigned sigh.
He toes off his boots and kicks off both pants and boxers as he stumbles away from him to the dresser in question. This box better damn well be worth it.]
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And, honestly, having Nyx settled against him is just as good a feeling as what they were doing before, just at a different level of intensity.
When Nyx finally decides to get the box, Regis' eyes follow him, the parting kisses causing his breathing to speed again. He'd be disappointed once completely alone in the chair again if he didn't have such a good show to watch as a distraction. How can one be disappointed when give the chance to watch more of that tanned skin appear? Regis shifts in the chair so he can settle his chin in one hand, eyes twinkling as he does. He'd not realized until now just how many small tattoos Nyx had and he knows each one has a story. It's going to be great fun finding them all out.
It's only once Nyx has finished stripping and pulled the box from the dresser that Regis finally starts to share the story. The box itself is a decently-sized gift box, bright, glittery, and as mentioned, baring a tag on the top that says in larger letters 'With love, Noctis.'
Regis can't help but chuckle as he looks at the box. So much trouble over such a silly thing.]
A few years back some brilliant member of the Crownsguard decided it would be a nice gesture for one of the graduating class to give the king a gift on behalf of the whole class. The gifts were practical once and then someone decided to make the tradition more interesting.
[Regis pauses a moment, amusement shinning in his eyes.]
One of the first gag gifts appeared with Gladiolus Amicitia's name one it. A few years later one followed with Ignis Scientia's name on it. Apparently, my son's Shield and Advisor decided that he shouldn't be left out of the tradition and approached him with the idea of giving me this year's gift. Of course, he resisted claiming it was silly for him to do such a thing considering I'm his dad and if he wanted to give me a gift he could at any time. I never was able to get them to tell me what they bribed Noctis with to finally get him to sign the tag, but he did so without ever knowing what they were going to put in it. He trusted them and well...
[Regis motions toward the box inviting Nyx to open it. Inside he will find lube, condoms and several other choice items meant to help 'spice up' the king's non-resistant sex life.]
Needless to say, afterward I had a talk with said young men and let them know that while I don't mind a good prank, should Noctis ever find out what was sent to me under his name, it would be the last prank either of them played. I really have no wish for my son to die of embarrassment so young.
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He's quick to flick the lid off, tossing it aside carelessly to rummage through the box. Lube, condoms, flavored condoms and he lifts those up with a wicked grin and a wink.]
Later~
[And then he pulls out a small box with two bottles in it, one blue and one red. Lube, and massage oil supposedly, one tingling, one warming and Nyx can't help laughing at that.]
They forget you have magic? All the heat we need right here.
[And as he says it he steps in close again, waggling his fingers at Regis before trailing one down the bared expanse of his chest, letting the heat of magic flicker from his fingertip to lick along the king's skin. His finger dips down, letting his nail scrape slightly at the hair line leading down to his pants.
Then Nyx is leaning in abruptly, dragging his tongue back up the line he'd just drawn, a sharp chill following in the wake of his mouth, hot and cold sharply contrasted even as the box gets dumped onto the rug so his fingers can start working on Regis' pants.
Finally.]
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A horny man in his favorite adult supply store? Yes, that fits much better.]
If I recall correctly, those were young Gladiolus' addition. Perhaps you should thank him the next time you see him.
[Honestly, Regis will never understand what his son's Shield had been thinking when he gave away that little bit of information during their talk. If Clarus hadn't been so disgruntled with the whole tradition, Regis would've had to ask him what exactly he was teaching his son about the importance of keeping certain things secret.
Regis straightens in the chair when Nyx finally abandons the box and makes his way back. The second item the Glaive pulls out causes him to have to fight the urge to roll his eyes just as much now as he did when he first saw it.]
That particular item was chosen by a young man who would have an aneurysm if he were made to think about the Crystal's magic being used in such a way.
[He loves you like a son, Ignis, but sometimes you are just too much. Pedestals so high are dangerous, and not the good kind of dangerous.
And speaking of the good kind of dangerous...
Regis' eyes fix on the fingers that make their way down his chest, green gaze holding just as much heat as radiates against his skin. By the time those teasing fingers make their way to the waistband of his pants, the banked passion from before has completely unfurled back to a roaring blaze. It makes that change in temperature all the more electric when it comes, and Regis' mind blanks out for a moment as he arches into Nyx's mouth, one hand finding its way into the Glaive's hair without any conscious choice being made to do it.
As if determined not to let Regis catch his breath, Nyx moves his attention to his pants next, which is both a blessing and a curse. Once more they are quickly becoming uncomfortable and the Glaive's hands are not helping with that one bit; all things considered, that's probably the point.
His fingers tighten slightly against Nyx's scalp, just enough to get his attention in case the breathless and hoarse whisper that follows isn't enough.]
As much as I like your hands right where they are, you may want to finish with the brace before you get too caught up there.
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Reasonably.
Later, there'll be time to joke around and consider that thought more fully, Later, he can explore some of these stories Regis has. For now he's rather preoccupied reveling in the responses he can draw out of the king. Feeling Regis arching up into his touch is exhilarating, and then fingers twisting into his hair draw a soft groan against Regis chest, teeth finding the edge of his collarbone.
It's the reminder that stops him from laving attention on the spot, instead making him put a little space between them again. A smirk, a flash of feral teeth and then Nyx is dropping to his knees once more. It takes him only the barest of moments to get Regis' pants unfastened the rest of the way, pulling them open just enough to be able to free him.
Undoubtedly, it will take longer, unfastening the brace by feel instead of by sight, but Nyx wastes no time leaning forward to take Regis' cock into his mouth, shallow and teasing little flicks of his tongue as his hands feel along the brace for clasps and closures.]
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Regis' mind stutters to a halt once more, the moan pulled from his throat cutting off halfway as if his breath has been stolen away. Fingers of one hand tighten in Nyx's hair unconsciously, while those of the other seek out the Glaive's shoulder for some kind of stability. It's been so long and those teasing flicks of Nyx's tongue are enough to nearly drive him mad. He tries just once to gather the breath needed to speak and then quickly lets go of the idea completely, giving into the sensations running through him as he lets his head drop back against the chair with another moan.
It's almost a shame Regis is so caught up in the feelings running through him because it means he totally misses what task is busying Nyx's hands. Such skilled multitasking really should be applauded. One more thing for later it seems.]
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And even as he does it his hands tug at each leather strap, unfastening clever metal hooks and clips. At least once he makes a sharp noise of protest as a clasp pinches his fingers. He doesn't let it distract from his task though, apologizing for the jerk and the sound with soft suckles.
Eventually he has to lean back, letting Regis slip from his mouth with a messy, wet slurping sound, obviously intentional because if he can't make the king be at least a little dirty then where's the fun in that?
Then he's sitting back on his heels, hands guiding Regis to extend his leg so that he can pull the brace off, far more respectful this time when he sets it aside and out of the way.]
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One pale green eye opens--and honestly, Regis isn't sure when he closed his eyes, but it obviously happened--and he has just a moment to turn a questioning look in Nyx's direction before the Glaive settles again, gentle and attentive. With a soft moan, Regis lets his eye fall closed again, the hand he has in Nyx's hair releasing its hold slightly, so his fingers can stroke gently instead of pull.
When Nyx finally pulls away, Regis finds himself torn embarrassingly between chuckling at the exaggerated way it's done and whining lowly at the lost sensation. The sound he produces is not really one or the other, which means he will not admit to the latter part no matter what.
Of course, considering Nyx's current track record, he will probably find a way to break through that 'no matter what,' but that's a worry for later.
Regis opens his eyes again when he feels the gentle tug on his leg and he can't help but smile when he fuzzy brain actually puts together what the Glaive was up to.]
Two birds with one stone, hmm?
[What a clever one you are, Nyx Ulric.]
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Something like that.
[Now that the brace is unfastened and out of the way though all the gentleness bleeds away in a rush, eager to get himself as close to the other man as possible. Shoes pried off and tossed carelessly out of the way, one sock falling dangerously close to the fire before Nyx snatches it out of the way.
Then he's finally back to his feet, hands going to Regis' waistband. A slight nudge, encouragement to lift his hips before Nyx yanks the king's pant's off as well.
For a fleeting moment he steps back, hums a low appreciative sound as he drops pants and underwear away and simply appreciates the man before him.]
Fucking hell, Regis.
[It's the only warning the other man gets before Nyx is on top of him, crashing their lips together in another heated kiss even as he clambers into Regis' lap. ]
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Astrals, even if he didn't have the mobility issues, when would he have time to train? How many times recently has he had to all but order people to allow Clarus time to train for his primary role?
It's impossible to think about these things with Nyx's hands on him, though. Regis' mind focuses on the way battle-worn fingers slide over his skin and the trails of heat left in their wake. When Nyx expresses his appreciation, Regis even finds himself chuckling, or at least, starting to. The end of the sound is lost in the crash of lips that follow it, in the heat and electricity that burns anew between them once they are back in contact. It doesn't take long for one of his hands to make its way into the Glaive's hair again, sliding up his neck to settle at the back of his head. The other hand takes longer to settle, though, since Regis has no intention of breaking their kiss or those that follow in order to look at the exact positioning of their bodies. Instead, he relies on wandering touches to get Nyx to shift until they are close enough he can wrap his hand around both their cocks and give them a slow stroke.]
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Another thing he's going to have to do is make Regis laugh more, even if it's just the low chuckles that he's managed to swallow a few times now. The feeling of that low vibration against his lips, the way his lips slant under his mouth, the way it makes beard and mustache shift and twitch against his face... it's all enough to make him hum his own satisfaction back, kissing his king a little harder. There's something so gratifying about feeling the evidence of Regis contentment as much as his pleasure.
It distracts him, briefly, from the spark of heat between them and leaves him utterly unprepared for the jolt of pleasure when Regis' fingers curl around them both. Nyx jerks up into the other man's hand, head snapping back and his fingers digging hard into Regis' shoulder.]
Fuck!
[Sparks jump from his fingertips, tingling sharply along the skin of Regis' shoulder before he reigns it back in, channeling the swell of power into something more controlled as he lets his other hand slide down the older man's chest, keeping his fingers hovering just above the skin to let the electricity arc between them.]
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Of course, stopping to think about it is his mistake for Nyx has already begun to recover, redirecting the very literal sparks flying between them into something more purposeful. It's not just the use of magic that draws the low moan from Regis' lips, though; it's that focus, that control, coming so closely on the heels of that moment of unrestrained wildness. There's a beauty to it...and hasn't he used that word a lot tonight to describe this man? There are others, but something about using those words seems wrong to Regis. One implies being tamed, another conformation, and another timidity.
Nyx Ulric is none of those things.]
You're so beautiful. If I knew which deity was responsible for your making, I would shower them in praise.
[Despite the breathless, pretty words, Regis hasn't allowed the hand working between them to still, fingers quickening at times, slowing at others, never quite settling into a steady pattern.]
Will do you that again for me, wild one?
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