Off? Oh! Ooooh great idea. Gladio you're a- fuck genius!
[He's never been so relieved to have Gladio around as when he points out the obvious. If it was up to Prompto he'd be rutting into his hand with a palm full of slick and oh fuck even that seems greeeat. With his mind halfway clinging to thought he tugs his bottoms down enough to kick the offensively warm fabric onto the ground and lifts his hips, thrusting into the air even as he watches Gladio pouring the lube.
Any sort of filter between his mind and his mouth, limited as it was before, is gone in the heat of the moment as he groans out:]
Come oooon, I'm gonna die here if I don't get touched soon. c'mon c'mon c'mon
[Prompto feels like a whimpering, needy mess as he thrusts up into the air, his fist stroking down before he decides to try something else. His hands slide down to cup his own balls, fingers squeezing to see if the new angle helps but it only leads to him frustratingly biting down on his bottom lip.
Obviously his own hand isn't cutting it but it's not like he can stop because something is better than nothing. As much as Prompto wishes Gladio would hurry the hell up he wishes even more the guy would get closer so his lips can latch on that tanned skin and lick up the sweat he can see is glistening.]
no subject
[He's never been so relieved to have Gladio around as when he points out the obvious. If it was up to Prompto he'd be rutting into his hand with a palm full of slick and oh fuck even that seems greeeat. With his mind halfway clinging to thought he tugs his bottoms down enough to kick the offensively warm fabric onto the ground and lifts his hips, thrusting into the air even as he watches Gladio pouring the lube.
Any sort of filter between his mind and his mouth, limited as it was before, is gone in the heat of the moment as he groans out:]
Come oooon, I'm gonna die here if I don't get touched soon. c'mon c'mon c'mon
[Prompto feels like a whimpering, needy mess as he thrusts up into the air, his fist stroking down before he decides to try something else. His hands slide down to cup his own balls, fingers squeezing to see if the new angle helps but it only leads to him frustratingly biting down on his bottom lip.
Obviously his own hand isn't cutting it but it's not like he can stop because something is better than nothing. As much as Prompto wishes Gladio would hurry the hell up he wishes even more the guy would get closer so his lips can latch on that tanned skin and lick up the sweat he can see is glistening.]