[he feels downright dirty. there's the press of erection up against him, and a question that incinerates every nerve ending in his body, becoming all too hyper aware to yes, god, yes, he's starved for this. so much of Prompto's life is the need to feel validated, the urge to impress or please others, and McGillis plays into that so well that it has his head spinning. he vividly pictures himself like this, face heated from the motion of having a hand up against the wall for balance and he rides the ever loving fuck out of him, and it's enough to make his own tight pants feel even more restrictive than normal.
what does he want? it's not a question he's too familiar with, instead, usually being in the position to ask that of the other party. his needs always feel small in the comparison to others', especially when he can simply feel fulfilled just by being wanted in the first place. it's no small hidden secret that Prompto doesn't have a lot of faith in himself, and yet, McGillis instills a sort of powerful confidence in him.
and yet, when he asks, he can almost feel the answer being pulled out of him instinctively. Prompto has it in him to beg for it, the word "please," just on the tip of his tongue. he'd like nothing better than his shirt to be pulled up and off and discarded in the distance, hands clashing as he submits to the beast below him. without a single doubt in his mind, it'd probably be the most mind-blowing sex that he's ever had in his life. his entire body aches for it, the intensely pleasurable pain, the weight of another body intertwined into his, and the lack of feeling empty.
but fuck, his conscience is such an annoying cockblock.]
You have no idea how badly I want it.
[... here he goes, ruining it, because Prompto's biggest enemy is, well, Prompto.]
But... [he sighs, and it's involuntary, the way he shifts ever so slightly and ends up grinding his ass into McGillis' arousal even more.] We should... probably cool off.
no subject
what does he want? it's not a question he's too familiar with, instead, usually being in the position to ask that of the other party. his needs always feel small in the comparison to others', especially when he can simply feel fulfilled just by being wanted in the first place. it's no small hidden secret that Prompto doesn't have a lot of faith in himself, and yet, McGillis instills a sort of powerful confidence in him.
and yet, when he asks, he can almost feel the answer being pulled out of him instinctively. Prompto has it in him to beg for it, the word "please," just on the tip of his tongue. he'd like nothing better than his shirt to be pulled up and off and discarded in the distance, hands clashing as he submits to the beast below him. without a single doubt in his mind, it'd probably be the most mind-blowing sex that he's ever had in his life. his entire body aches for it, the intensely pleasurable pain, the weight of another body intertwined into his, and the lack of feeling empty.
but fuck, his conscience is such an annoying cockblock.]
You have no idea how badly I want it.
[... here he goes, ruining it, because Prompto's biggest enemy is, well, Prompto.]
But... [he sighs, and it's involuntary, the way he shifts ever so slightly and ends up grinding his ass into McGillis' arousal even more.] We should... probably cool off.
Right?