He doesn't really care what happens to Prompto, whether he likes it or dislikes it. But he's not immune to intimacy by any means, even though anyone dragged into his bed just wound up spat out. When he's touched on the cheek, almost tenderly, he leans into it. When Prompto shifts, he shifts to accommodate, spreading his legs a bit wider, tightening his grip a bit more.
And as Prompto responds, he starts to move, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling them closer together. It's bold, but it's still civil. Still polite, although what they're doing is dipping into the territory of sexual as opposed to simply intimate. He's a man, at the end of day, and men react predictably to this kind of attention. He's starting to stir, and in a very obvious way.
Which was punctuated by some muffled sound, something like a huff. It melts into a moan, as he forces himself to pull away. Just not too far, just in case.]
Perhaps our devices will function properly, now.
[He found his voice but it's a bit strained. And his eyes are dark, pupils a bit blown. Arousal evident. He peers at Prompto, breath heavy and slow.]
You're starved for this, aren't you? Is that what you want...?
[Obviously, this was no longer about the cards. His own device chirps happily, conditions fulfilled. But just as Prompto was caught in McGillis' orbit, McGillis surrenders to the pleasure of the act itself. And ever cognizant, asks in so many words, shall we continue? Because even a beast could bow to consent.]
no subject
He doesn't really care what happens to Prompto, whether he likes it or dislikes it. But he's not immune to intimacy by any means, even though anyone dragged into his bed just wound up spat out. When he's touched on the cheek, almost tenderly, he leans into it. When Prompto shifts, he shifts to accommodate, spreading his legs a bit wider, tightening his grip a bit more.
And as Prompto responds, he starts to move, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling them closer together. It's bold, but it's still civil. Still polite, although what they're doing is dipping into the territory of sexual as opposed to simply intimate. He's a man, at the end of day, and men react predictably to this kind of attention. He's starting to stir, and in a very obvious way.
Which was punctuated by some muffled sound, something like a huff. It melts into a moan, as he forces himself to pull away. Just not too far, just in case.]
Perhaps our devices will function properly, now.
[He found his voice but it's a bit strained. And his eyes are dark, pupils a bit blown. Arousal evident. He peers at Prompto, breath heavy and slow.]
You're starved for this, aren't you? Is that what you want...?
[Obviously, this was no longer about the cards. His own device chirps happily, conditions fulfilled. But just as Prompto was caught in McGillis' orbit, McGillis surrenders to the pleasure of the act itself. And ever cognizant, asks in so many words, shall we continue? Because even a beast could bow to consent.]