FFXIV Misc. Posts

[eightlazylegs]

For Eithyrs related threading.

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[snapandflounce]

"S'not scratchy. All your hair is soft," Nero says, shifting again to get himself somewhat mobile -- but only to press into Cid's touch like a cat who hasn't remembered it can scratch yet. Maybe in time he'll remember his fangs, but if the bliss lingers he might get horny again before he gets too conscious.

He sighs softly, drowsy with contentment. "Should fuck me more often. Then you can see me like this more."

[eightlazylegs]

Oh. Oh, no, he shouldn't say things like that. It makes Cid wrap around him, like if he doesn't cling Nero will escape from him entirely. "If I have to," he says, reluctantly tender.

[snapandflounce]

"Oh no," Nero mumbles, wriggling in his grip, "you'll have to get laid more regularly. What a trial for the great Cid Garlond, getting his ashes hauled on a regular basis..."

Later he'll feel stupid for this. Right now he's in subspace, delirious on the contact with his beloved rival, the center of his universe, the warmth and touch of him. "What could possibly be worse?"

[eightlazylegs]

Cid's first impulse is to throw out some backhanded insult, like "Well, it's a trial when it's with you". But he can't. Not when Nero says it so softly, when he lays there all vulnerable like a crab out of its shell. Instead Cid rolls him over and runs a hand down his sweat-sticky chest to his belly, and just stares at him quietly. "Thank you" slips from his lips unbidden.

[snapandflounce]

Growing slightly more sober as time ticks by and the afterglow haze begins to dim, even Nero becomes aware of this tenuous, ephemeral moment. It is a soap bubble, just waiting for something to piece it abruptly or for air tension to simply win out and pop of it's own accord.

Being greedy, he takes advantage-- throwing his arms around Cid's neck to pull him in for soft, slow kisses. Let him get these last things before their spell breaks, let him luxuriate in these moments where Cid isn't frustrated with him, where he bolts before their feelings become a problem.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid returns the kisses, hands in his hair, brushing way sticky strands and the remains of tears. If they just don't speak, maybe they can stay like this - stay as friends and lovers, not as rivals, or whatever nasty construct Nero clearly thinks they are.

It occurs to him that for all that Nero treats them as competitors the man's never directly moved against him, not since Praetorium. He's found reasons to be near him, bickering all the while, but never..challenged him. Cid chews his lip, musing on what that could mean.

Is it better if he...should Cid break the connection? Let Nero live his own life?

[snapandflounce]

It's as if Nero senses that concern, and kisses all the more vigorously for it, trying to get him back into the now.

"Garlond... I can tell when you're wrapping yourself up in your big stupid brain," he mumbles between them. "Come back. It's nicer here."

[eightlazylegs]

"I thought you liked my big throbbing turgid brain." Bless him and those kisses, grounding him back in his skin. Cid can't keep his hands from moving, as if contact with Nero's skin can remind him that he's still here. That he's warm and real. That this isn't fantasy.

[snapandflounce]

"Oh, I do. It's one of your more admirable qualities," throwing his head back to bare his throat - whether in submission or backing his throat for more kissed, who can say. "S'a very good brain. But I like it when i short circuit it, too."

Like it when it descends into frenzied need, when they can't pretend anymore, and fuck like horny teenagers.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid whined again, and sank his face against Nero's shoulder. "You're so good on it. I hate it. But I only hate it a little."

His arms drew him in again and held him. "We're gonna have to get up soon," he mourns.

[snapandflounce]

"We do not," Nero said, and to prove it, he wriggled deeper, grabbed the covers, and pulled them up. "We can stay right here until the morning, and then I walk of shame right to the lab and get myself a cup of coffee for breakfast."

By God, he was needy today -- fiercely, clingly, needy.

[eightlazylegs]

"...they'll talk." Cid clings to him as he says it. He doesn't want Nero to think he's ashamed--this isn't about him. But he knows Nero has his pride.

But also his clinginess.

[snapandflounce]

"They already do, Garlond," Nero says, and gives a jaw cracking yawn, before he big-spoons himself against the other man. "Besides, if you wake up before me, you can get in another fuck before you shoo me out."

See? To Nero's fuck-fogged brain, this is win/win all the way down.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid tilts his head, considers that matter, and then reaches right over Nero to grab his alarm clock off the nightstand and start enthusiastically winding it. The little chocobo on top frantically paces in reverse as he sets it.

[snapandflounce]

"I hope to all your Eorzean Gods," Nero mumble before he gives another jaw cracking yawn, "that you set it for an hour that mankind actually considers reasonable." Because he's going to fall asleep in like ten seconds and if he doesn't get eight hours he will be unbearable the entire day.

[eightlazylegs]

"I'll make sure that you wake up to something nice, at least." Cid curls about him, smiling - it's longer before he falls asleep, but the soft sound of Nero's breathing gives him a way to ground himself.

When he wakes, he almost forgets where he is. Who he is. All he knows is there's a clattering that his fumbling hand silences, and then a warm body to embrace within the sheets.

[snapandflounce]

Nero sleeps like he always has; a giant Garlean furnace, the big spoon, and remarkably settled. He is warm, he is content. The noise rouses him some and he shifts as Cid moves to allow him to turn off the alarm. He is likely aware of where he's at--

--but then rolls back over to resume cuddling. He's fine, they're fine, ten more minutes, right?

[eightlazylegs]

"It'll go off again in twenty," Cid mumbles into Nero's ear. One leg lazily curls around him, tucking the man closer. "We got anything we can do for twenty minutes?"

He does have some ideas.

[snapandflounce]

Nero's eyes slowly opened, pale blue peeking out beyond the fringe of his nearly white lashes. Then he wriggles a little, dragging a half-hard cock against Cid's thighs.

"I'm certain you can suck my dick this morning in that time... Jerk us both, or fuck me hard and fast." The lube was gone but he was still relaxed, wouldn't be too hard to get him slick and ready again. "Something. We can absolutely do something."

[eightlazylegs]

Getting more lube means getting out of bed, which Cid is firmly against. He squirmed down into the blankets, seeking out that cock and running his hands across his hips and down the sides of his thighs.

[snapandflounce]

This is the better idea, anyway, thinks Nero, because he too does not want to deal with getting out of this nice, warm bed-- and he wants to get beard burn on his thighs. But he runs his fingers through the soft hair on Cid's head as he lets his legs fall open to make room for him.

"Good choice," he murmurs.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid made a happy little trill next to his leg. "Say it again," he murmured, half asleep and half drunk on the warmth of the man around him.

Call him good. Pull his hair. Make him yours.

[snapandflounce]

Nero chuckled low in his throat, dipping into that lower register his nasal tenor usually didn't reach. "Good choice, Garlond."

He abuses his power, and rolls the R in Cid's name.

[eightlazylegs]

Cid's mouth is on him in moments, taking him as deep as he can in the first go and then pulling out to get the angle to go even deeper. He doesn't have words to voice what he wants--what he want is Nero's confidence, his attention. And some hair pulling.

[snapandflounce]

Nero's got his hands in Cid's hair in short orders, even as as sighs in pleasure. "That's -- oh, so good, so good. I know it's not easy, but look at you..." He's barely visible with the blankets still half-over Nero's lap; he can see silver hair and his hands in it, the occasional hand against his thigh, and the rise of fall of Cid's head. Occasionally he catches a glimpse of his cock, spit-wet and glistening, before Cid takes it in again.

"S'right. Take it. Such a good job you're doing, Garlond..." He can't talk after that as he's dropping his head back for a groan he can't he hold back. "Fuck, don't do you-- you dare stop, you--"