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“You’re stressed.” It was a statement, not a question, and Ignis felt the accompanying press of a fingertip into the center of his brow. “Your elevens are out.”
“I’m told aging comes with side effects,” Ignis replied wryly.
“Okay, so A. you’re in your thirties and B. you only get that crease when you’re stressin’.”
“Yes, well forgive me if establishing an entirely new government - with a disability, I might add - causes me some concern.”
“Oooookay now I know it’s bad, if you’re playing the disability card. Time to put the accessibility enabled laptop away.”
The snap of his work laptop shutting rang with finality, cutting off the droning text-to-speech voice that he’d only barely been listening to anyway. Ignis pulled out his ear bud and set it on top of his computer, crossing his arms. “So, I’m no longer allowed to work then, is it?”
Prompto’s voice was steady and chipper as ever. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that, Mr. Scientia. You’re going to need a more aggressive therapy.”
Ignis feigned worry. “You don’t mean…”
“That’s right,” Prompto said, tone serious. “Marital relations.”
Ignis frowned as if considering this. “Surely there must be another way.”
It was a game they’d played many times before. Prompto, who expressed himself best through levity, would find silly yet direct ways to initiate intimacy. Ignis’ part was to feign reluctance - a treat for him as well - only to eventually give in to his husband’s advances. Like many married couples, they’d long ago given up the pretense of grand romantic seductions. Ignis often wondered why people mourned the loss of such passion, when this was infinitely more fun, all told.
Prompto sighed dramatically. “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”
Ignis nodded. “I see. When will my treatment begin, then?”
“The sooner the better. You’re already in stage three stress. We don’t want it to progress any further.”
“Sounds serious. What’s the prognosis?”
“Depends on how you respond to this treatment. If you stay on it regularly for the next seven or eight days, you might see some improvement.”
“Goodness, that sounds exhausting. Can my body take it?”
“Probably! Only one way to find out!”
Ah, so Prompto’s patience was minimal today. Ignis debated doubling down on his role as he was dragged bodily off the sofa, but ultimately he decided that his lover had been correct; he did need this. Somehow, Prompto always knew.
It wasn’t often that Ignis could get out of his own head, but as Prompto’s skilled fingers stripped him of his tightly buttoned and starched shirt, so too did his knot of racing thoughts begin to loosen.
The tension he’d been unwittingly holding in his shoulders began to melt away as Prompto mouthed at his neck, slipping Ignis’s shirt off his shoulders and pushing him down into their bed. His rear hit the mattress and he huffed out a laugh. “Eager, are we?”
“Your health is my priority. Don’t wanna let the stress progress!”
“Is that all?” he asked, smirking.
“Hell no, I’m also just super horny for you. Now take off your socks.”
Ignis laughed and shucked off his socks; the sound of Prompto’s belt jingling and the rustle of his clothing hitting the floor finally caused his body to respond in interest. A waft of cool air carrying the scent of Prompto’s deodorant reached him just before warm lips crashed into his own. Ignis inhaled, reflexively bringing his hands to the bare skin at Prompto’s waist. He was wearing only his underwear, and Ignis skirted his fingers up along the skin at his sides. Raised ridges of scar tissue scattered across his torso painted a picture of their traumatic history, juxtaposed to the relative domestic comfort in which they now lived. The memories of what it was like living in the dark were beginning to feel distant, yet they would come to the forefront in vivid detail at strange times. Such was the way of trauma, Ignis supposed.
“Get out of there, Iggy,” Prompto said, tapping at Ignis’ temple. “What’s it gonna take to bring you all the way here?”
Well now, that was the question, wasn’t it? A small twinge of guilt struck him at having a wandering mind. “Apologies.”
“No worries, babe. I gotchu.”
He always did, of course. Throughout Ignis’ darkest days, Prompto was there. Even before Ignis had truly allowed Prompto into his heart, he would show up at just the right time, every time. It was uncanny, really. And the day he finally broke down those walls, Ignis realized that all he ever wanted was to be wrapped up in him, a constant reminder of solidity and comfort in an otherwise shaky world.
Ah.
“Actually…” he began, but a flush crept up his neck to his cheeks. Even after years together, Ignis found it difficult to ask for things.
“Go ahead, babe, I’m all ears.”
In fact, Prompto sounded quite eager to hear his thoughts. It emboldened him to speak his mind. “I think what I’d like is to be blanketed in you,” Ignis hinted, hoping the message was clear so he needn’t explain further.
“Ooooooh ho ho ho! The ol’ pronebone, eh? We haven’t done that in a while.”
“Really, now. Must you use such crass language? Where’s the romance?”
“You married me,” Prompto pointed out.
“Fair enough.”
“I’m totally down. I admit that I kinda thought we’d just get some quick stress relief here so like…”
“I’m more than willing to go and prepare if it means having you this way.” Ignis nuzzled into the base of Prompto’s neck, momentarily lost in the scent of him. He laid a kiss there and then stood. “I shall return in a moment. Don’t lose interest,” he teased.
“Never, Iggy,” Prompto replied sincerely.
-
It was definitely worth it, Ignis thought later, as he lay face down with his head resting on his arms, and Prompto teased at his rear. He allowed breathy noises of pleasure to escape, and Prompto hummed in encouragement. Ignis arched up into the touch and a particularly silly noise squelched out between Prompto’s working fingers, causing them both to laugh. He felt truly relaxed for the first time in ages.
All of the busy thoughts that had occupied his mind of late were pushed to the back as his hips undulated in time to Prompto’s ministrations. When those deft fingers slipped from him, he nearly whined in protest, but then a surge of excitement overtook him. How long had it been since they’d really taken the time to do this? Ages. Ignis couldn’t even remember the last time. But those sounds: Prompto’s breath, subtly quickened and heavier; the pop of the lubricant cap; the squish of it being applied to flesh… the familiarity of them did nothing to dampen the thrill of it, and Ignis found himself rutting into the sheets in anticipation.
At that, Prompto chuckled. “Easy there, turbo. I’m working on it.”
Ignis huffed, mildly embarrassed at having been caught out on his impatience. He opened his mouth to retort, but instead his breath came out in a whoosh as Prompto thumbed his cheeks apart, and Ignis felt the glide of his cock within the cleft of his ass. He teased in a slow slide, massaging his buttocks in time with his languid thrusts. Unable to help himself, Ignis moaned into the pillow, pushing back against Prompto.
Gods, why hadn’t they done this in ages?
Prompto let out a little “Mmn,” and Ignis could practically hear him biting his lip in concentration. His breath came shakily from his nose, and his hands grasped at Ignis’ muscles more firmly.
“Damn, Iggy. You’re so hot.”
“You seem surprised,” Ignis managed to say, only mildly strained if he did say so himself.
Prompto gave a breathless laugh. “Shaddup. You know you’re always hot. It’s just...fuck. It’s been so long since we’ve done this. Feels so good.”
Ignis could feel Prompto’s thighs shaking through the mattress. His breath caught and he slowed his pace further.
“Shit,” he panted.
“Hmmm...ready for the finale so soon?” Ignis teased.
“No no no no. Not gonna let it happen. Gimme a sec.”
Ignis would be lying if he said Prompto’s near loss of control wasn’t flattering. Even after all these years - or perhaps because of them - they could take each other apart with ease. The loss of Prompto’s heat against him did little to still his own arousal. So, while he waited, Ignis moved casually against the sheets, enjoying the subtle friction. He hummed, perhaps putting on just a bit of a show for his husband.
“Fuck, Iggy. You look so good like this. Fuck. I can’t wait anymore.” Fingers pressed into his back and one hand spread him open as Prompto lined himself up. Ignis sucked in a breath, ready for the intrusion, and it all came out in a moan as Prompto slid into him in one fluid movement. The weight of his lover pressed down against his back, and Ignis became pinned between Prompto's elbows, feeling hot breathy kisses along his shoulders. Just as he’d hoped, he felt overwhelmingly surrounded by Prompto. He was everywhere and everything; his scent, his skin, the sounds of his breath as he struggled to gain control. Ignis could already feel him moving ever so slightly within him, unable to help himself as his cock twitched.
After a moment, Prompto seemed to gather himself by what must have been sheer force of will. He kissed Ignis just between the shoulder blades, raised up onto his hands, and pushed into him in earnest. Ignis fairly whined in response. The deep pressure and slow glide of Prompto inside of him was nearly too much to bear, but in the very best way.
“Yes darling, just like that. That’s lovely,” he breathed.
Prompto only groaned in response, his arms already trembling and his movement barely controlled. Sensing Prompto wouldn’t last, Ignis shifted his hips just so and cried out as the angle brought intense pleasure on the next thrust. Prompto responded with something resembling babbling words inside a whine, and all restraint left them both. He drove into Ignis in a rolling rhythm, and Ignis pushed back to meet each thrust, pressing his cock into the bed in turn. It wasn’t long before Ignis’ own muscles began to shake, his abdominals quivering as tension quickly knotted low in his belly. He arched his back just as Prompto pressed deeply into him and then came, hard, with a strangled shout, spilling himself onto the sheets. Vaguely, he registered Prompto’s pitched, “Yeah babe! Yes, yes, ah fuck!” and felt Prompto’s cock give a great twitch inside of him. He moaned against the pillow as Prompto bit down onto his trapezius, pumping into him as they both rode out their orgasms.
Sweat slicked skin met his own as Prompto sunk down, blanketing Ignis with his full weight. He struggled to catch his breath with his lungs squeezed under an entire body, but Ignis didn’t care. He loved the sensation. Every muscle in his body seemed to melt like butter and he sank into the bed as Prompto buried his nose into his hair.
“Mmmn,” said Ignis. “I’m a puddle.”
“Yeah, same here,” Prompto mumbled into his hair.
They rested until their breathing evened out, then Ignis took a deep breath and sighed.
“No,” Prompto said. “You’re not allowed to say anything about cleaning up.”
“But…”
“No.”
“Very well. We’ll simply become glued to the bed.”
“And each other!” Prompto replied brightly.
“Yes, I’m sure that won’t have any unpleasant consequences.” He could feel an easy smile tugging at his lips, not truly inclined to argue about moving or not.
“Promise I’ll get us up and cleaned. But give me a few minutes to just enjoy this.”
Ignis hummed his assent as Prompto laid petal soft kisses to his earlobe, and thought that in truth, Prompto could have every moment Ignis had to give. He needn't even ask.