[ It's uncanny, really, and in a way that visibly, immediately puts him on edge. All those old feelings from a few months ago come back, as strong as if he were feeling them instead of just watching Prompto descending into the madness of it. There's shame, of course, embarrassment, but also an undeniable sense of empathy, even if...well...one of them is taking it a hell of a lot better. Maybe it's because of the relative safety in it, of having someone familiar and (relatively) non-judgemental to keep an eye on things, help keep them under some kind of controlled circumstances while the rest gets to spiral out of control.
The smallest bit of drool pools at the corner of his mouth when Prompto half-shucks his pants. He doesn't even realize it until he opens his mouth to say something, hand immediately jumping up to swipe at the drip before it can fall. He doesn't suspect the effect is contagious, but maybe it has been a little while since he's spent that kind of time with anyone. And the brief, sharp eye contact clenches his chest in a way that convinces him he might as well not hold off. Not here, with a friend; it's gonna get weird either way, so they might as well get it out of the way now. ]
I get it.
[ Spoken softly, as he steps away from the curtain to check the built-in benches. As he suspected, the cushions lift, and inside the seat bucket is any number of lubricants and prophylactics. Scented, flavored, warming, cooling... He opts for something relatively neutral, though it smells like coconut tanning oil when he opens it. Then he replaces the cushion and takes a seat, reaching forward with his other hand to reel Prompto in by the sagging elastic of his shorts. ]
Just take 'em off.
[ Told, not asked, as he pours some of the lube into his palm. ]
no subject
The smallest bit of drool pools at the corner of his mouth when Prompto half-shucks his pants. He doesn't even realize it until he opens his mouth to say something, hand immediately jumping up to swipe at the drip before it can fall. He doesn't suspect the effect is contagious, but maybe it has been a little while since he's spent that kind of time with anyone. And the brief, sharp eye contact clenches his chest in a way that convinces him he might as well not hold off. Not here, with a friend; it's gonna get weird either way, so they might as well get it out of the way now. ]
I get it.
[ Spoken softly, as he steps away from the curtain to check the built-in benches. As he suspected, the cushions lift, and inside the seat bucket is any number of lubricants and prophylactics. Scented, flavored, warming, cooling... He opts for something relatively neutral, though it smells like coconut tanning oil when he opens it. Then he replaces the cushion and takes a seat, reaching forward with his other hand to reel Prompto in by the sagging elastic of his shorts. ]
Just take 'em off.
[ Told, not asked, as he pours some of the lube into his palm. ]