First Date in Lestallum

[threevirtues]

After those first 36 hours where they are recuperating in Lestallum proper... very little changes about their routine, honestly. They're already so deeply embedded in one another's lives there's not much too change. Touches lingering longer, adding an extra hinge to keep their cots attached when they're on the road and they can cuddle. A more reliable way to get either one of them to sleep, really.

Shy soft kisses here and there.

It's all Talcott's dared for so quickly. He's still reeling that Ignis returns his feelings, that he's allowed to do even that much.

When they finally end up back in Lestallum they almost immediately have a day where they have to split up, too many practicalities to sort through before they head out again. Supplies, comms, laundry, food, repairs. It's so much to tend to and they never have long to do it before they're needed in the field again or find another scrap of information to chase down. Which, overall, means it's not difficult to arrange what he wants.

He doesn't usually park this way but he makes sure they have a camper at the end of the parking lot so he can pull the truck in perpendicular. It's not really private, nothing can be in a city so over crowded. But it gives him a corner to tuck them into, the shitty little plastic table and chairs pushed aside in favor of yanking the cushions off the collapsible table/couch thing in the camper to set up a little couch from roughly assembled pallets, using an empty crate as a table and preparing one of Ignis' favorite meals. Well... As close as he can. There's even a few flowers he managed to barter off one of the men tending the hot houses. The scent light and fresh, barely noticeable for Talcott but he knows it will be something that Ignis notices immediately.

It's the sort of cozy romantic set up that really should accompany a glass of wine but even if either of them were confident enough in their safety to indulge in such a thing... well no one is going to give a 17 year old, regardless of his position, alcohol. And once he has confirmation that Ignis is on his way back Talcott is quick to change out of the lighter clothes he's been wearing while setting up to.... the only nice clothes he has, really. But the important part is they're fresh and clean and smell of soap and there's a satiny finish to the shirt that will feel nice for Ignis if he ends up putting his hands on it.

And he's waiting beside the truck since he knows Ignis will not expect it to be parked as it is, ready to take his hand, kiss his knuckles, and lead him around to his little set up. And if his stomach is turning over itself like he might just throw up well hopefully it doesn't show in his voice. He's never actually hell even seen people on a regular date.

Hopefully Ignis doesn't think it's too cheesy.

It really is a good thing that Talcott foresees having to help Ignis around the truck because, predictably, he's on a course straight into it at first. Certainly the areas can be crowded in Lestallum - there's no avoiding it - yet the two of them always seem to figure out a way to make things... uniform. Predictable. Outside of the battlefield, that sort of predictability makes his life easier. And for that, it means always arranging the truck in a particular way mot of the time, and certainly not in way of any route from Lestallum to the camper.

Still, he knows Talcott's footsteps, so that at least means he's not surprised when he's approached or that hand takes his own. "Ah, Talcott. I see you arrived ahead of me..." And then, as lips press against his knuckles, Ignis laughs softly. "Now what's this...?"

Because they're certainly making a different walk than how things should usually go, to the point that he almost wonders if they're heading off elsewhere, but... No. Something must be in the way. He almost wants to ask if it's a delivery of some sort being prepared ahead of time, but, no. He tilts his head back just a bit, breathing in deep. "Lavender...?"

He knows the plant well. It was his favorite, once upon a time, in a brighter and sweeter childhood. It's found a use in the long night as well - for food certainly as he well knows, but its use as a herb for medicine is documented, along with keeping certain bugs away. Invaluable, when the human race as a whole can't waste a single little thing here. Finally, well, sometimes humans need a small little nice thing just to get through trials.

And what a trial they all live in.

That's not the only thing he can smell, however, and Ignis tilts his head to the side. "What on earth is all this, Talcott?"

Maintaining a measure of uniformity give Ignis the ability to have more independence and that is something Talcott always strives for. Just this once it's worthwhile for the surprise, though.

"You'll see." Talcott murmurs softly against the back of Ignis' hand before he's linking their arms together and unfastening the snaps on his glove, sliding it off while they circle around. There's a pleased little hum that accompanies all of Talcott's smiles when Ignis mentions the flower. When he finally starts to tilt his head and really question what Talcott is doing he pauses, circling around in front of Ignis so he can take his other hand, gently removing the other glove as well. With that done he step in closer, knowing that Ignis' hands will follow the motion to settle on his arms first, on the smooth sleek fabric that is so different than anything people can get away with wearing these days. Just a different sensation for Ignis to enjoy since he cannot see the little set up or the flowers.

"I... wanted to do something nice for you." His voice soft and a touch more uncertain than Ignis is used to hearing these days, still feeling out how this new component of their relationship does and doesn't impact things. "For us." This a little firmer, knowing that Ignis is too selfless to simply accept such a fuss over himself.

The fingers that come up to brush along Ignis' jaw are achingly gentle. There's the faintest hint of the warm scent of palm oil that clings to his hands, the callouses and scars well tended before Ignis returned so that his fingers can slide smoothly over Ignis' cheek. No rough patches to drag against his face. Talcott mimics the motions Ignis takes when kissing him, though for Ignis it is to guide himself and Talcott has taken to repeating the same as a warning so that he doesn't startle the other man when he leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Gloves have always been a regular part of Ignis's outfits for a while now - even a bit before the night fell for far too long. That said, there's no real reason for it outside of the practical. Outside of it simply being good to have his hands covered when they get up to all manner of messy business, both inside and outside of Lestallum. So there's hardly any protests when Talcott goes to remove them, save for some minor curiosity. Yet Talcott always has a reason for what he does. Ignis knows that well enough, and finds any unspoken question answered when indeed his palms light upon his arms out of sheer habit.

"Talcott.." It's been... quite a long time since he's touched any cloth that wasn't made to withstand the roughness of travel, of battle. It's almost a novelty, feeling the lovely way his fingers run across it.

Almost as lovely as the soft smell accompanying Talcott's fingers, almost as lovely as the way their lips slot together. Ignis takes his time with the kiss, savoring it. Their few kisses before have often been like this, but perhaps not for long. Still, Ignis wants to repay him for this. Wants to pamper Talcott in one of the few ways he truly can. "You didn't have to," he finally murmurs, not quite breaking the contact between their lips. "But I'm afraid all our terrible stubbornness has washed off on you, so there'd be no convincing you of otherwise, hm?"

The kiss alone is enough to make him melt against the other man, hand cupping his jaw and holding him close, lips still a little shy and exploratory. He's a quick learner but there are some things that even he is nervous about, and things he'd never dream of rushing.

Besides if they were in any sort of hurry then he wouldn't get to hear the soft way Ignis says his name, the hint of amusement at that tease that he can feel in the curve of Ignis' lips. Talcott answers with a soft hum, almost a chuckle, his own smile meeting his partners in one more soft kiss. "You know me." There's a hint of laughter in the words, something so very true about it, about all of it. Ignis knows him better than anyone else, of course he knows precisely what the response would be and can counter it before it's even spoken.

After a moment of just savoring their closeness Talcott finally steps back, hands still holding onto Ignis' as he leads him over to the short little couch he's put together on the fly. Not the best certainly but at least out here there's a breeze coming in from beyond the cliffs instead of the stifling heat inside the camper. As they move to just in front of the cushions Talcott dips his shoulder, sliding into the touch of Ignis' fingers to guide them up his arm. "I brought some things outside so we could be comfortable. And cooler."

It's the only explanation he gives as he sinks down to take a seat, trusting Ignis will be able to use the anchor point of his shoulder to lower himself down beside him. "You... haven't already eaten have you?" That would be embarrassing wouldn't it.

With how things have clearly changed around him, Ignis is a little more accepting of how Talcott guides him - especially in the subtle ways that don't feel quite so frustrating as he once had to deal with in the past when he first went blind. So he follows his footsteps, lets his fingers graze along his shoulder, and indeed settles down. Despite the trust, he still has no idea what exactly he's settling down into, so there's a small surprised hum as he meets comfortable cushions.

The most comfortable? Probably not. The best that one can have in this life? Certainly, and made all the better with that lovely breeze rolling in from the Crag.

"It must have been a great deal of work," he says, showing recognition for what Talcott's done, before he chuckles. "And Talcott... Why on earth would I ever have a meal without you if I could help it? But that would explain what else I was smelling past the lavender. Been busy in the kitchen, have you?"

Talcott tries very hard to never make Ignis feel coddled. He has always made a point of offering his hand or shoulder for guidance if Ignis should need it. He's pretty confident that Ignis could have navigated this alone with a little time or guidance but the point right now is that he wants to be able to touch his- his boyfriend. Just thinking the word makes him giddy. So he is thrilled when Ignis does take that offering to follow him down, to settle down on the couch with him.

"A little." There's that shyness again and he scoots close to slide an arm around Ignis' to coax him into leaning against him. "It didn't turn out as nice as yours but... the taste is good, I think." He's used to working with fiddly little things but only with machines. It means the delicate little crab long bao are... sloppy, most didn't maintain their shape while they were steaming but the recipe is the same one Ignis has always used.

"I made a few things, actually. All little like... finger foods. I thought-" He thought it would be nice to just cuddle and snack lazily on their dinner and it would be sweet and romantic. And maybe, just maybe, he'd thought it would be nice to share a few things. Though now that they're here and he's got Ignis beside him he wonders if it might not feel too close to how Gladio coddled him when he'd first been injured.

One hand comes up to touch his face softly, thumb running below Ignis' lip, careful, gauging his reaction. It was meant to be romantic and maybe a little bit more than that, being able to watch Ignis' lips, touch them between bites. But how does he explain that properly? He's not entirely sure he can.

It is truly in the way of men, sometimes, for them to second-guess themselves every step in the way, no matter how the final project results. Mostly it is men with too much brain for their skull, Ignis has found, on account of being exactly that kind of man.

Consideration turns to overthinking. Pride results in high standards. It can, truly, be a bit of a mess.

Easier to see the hesitation, sometimes, when you're outside of the mess.

Ignis leans into that soft touch at his face, once again enjoys how soft Talcott's hands have become. He likes them as they normally are, of course, in the same way that he has always liked how Gladio's hands have felt on him. The callouses, the little scars, all of that have always told him how much work his lovers have put into... everything, really. Whether it's with a sword or with an engine, their roughness speaks to it all. How can't he love men such as that?

"Finger foods, hm?" He tilts his head down just a tad, kisses those hopeful fingers at the tips. "Then you'll have to show me the fruits of your labor."

There's a rush of relief when Ignis tips his head to kiss his fingertips. Something that makes Talcott's heart do the strange fluttery thing it always does for Ignis. Despite his intention to make this slow and romantic and entirely about the meal those lips on his fingers is too great a temptation. His hand slips along Ignis' jaw, tilting his face a little so Talcott can lean over him to kiss him once more, soft and lingering for a moment.

"I love you." Murmured with barely a hair's breadth between them. Every time he's said it, maybe every time he will ever say it, there's a note of wonder in his voice. The ability to say those words still stunning him with each utterance. It's something that is, once again, followed by a breathless chuckle, small sounds of joy and disbelief which have him dropping his head down to lean on Ignis' shoulder for a moment. He can't help being embarrassed that he can (and does) get so giddy every damn time.

"You- are probably hungry. You've been working all day while I've been fussing." Lips brush Ignis' cheek in one more kiss for good measure before he finally sits back and scoots the crate that's serving as a table for them a little closer. Then he's plucking up one of those dumplings. He does it carefully, not expecting Ignis to just... wait for him to put something in his mouth but instead skimming one knuckle over his lower lip, turning his wrist and then letting the edge of the dumpling rest against that lip. Barely there, a whisper of sensation so that Ignis can take his bite whenever he likes.

And Talcott can just watching him, adoring and utterly lovestruck, gaze torn between watching for Ignis' reaction to his efforts and simply watching the way his lips move.

For all that he knew that Talcott was always the sort of individual who thrived on constant contact, touching whenever he could get away with it, there's still something charming to discovering that this little trait has extended to kisses. He's always so eager for them, constantly stealing what he can when he can. It's fortunate that he's so respectful that he understands Ignis's tolerance for PDA is rather low... because it would be rather embarrassing to discover it may have become more flexible from Talcott's presence alone.

At least with this, he can hazard a guess that there's something in the way for Talcott to act so boldly - the truck? That would explain why he had to be redirected.

It doesn't really matter.

He's being kissed, after all.

"I would say this all counts as work as well," Ignis points out while he listens to a crate scrape across asphalt. By the time that Talcott turns away, he'll find Ignis snapping his glasses shut to tuck into the pocket of his shirt. "Don't ever devalue your own work, Talcott. That only makes others think they can do the same to you in turn." With that, he turns his head properly to him, milky eye focused on nothing in particular.

Honestly, perhaps it may be silly for some that he still wears something over his eyes. There's no use for glasses, after all, not anymore, and he's always thought that people who wore sunglasses at night were tools.

Yet... Scars are one thing. What person still alive doesn't have scars in this world now? Especially hunters, for whom every mark on their body is a reminder of how close they cut it. It's something else entirely, he knows this for a fact, for a person to look him in the face and see how he can't. They think they can get something over him, or they pity him, or, worse, they try to tell him what he shouldn't be doing.

So he keeps them on for the most part... just not all the time.

And it's fine for right now, he thinks.

He nudges back against those thoughtful fingers, lips brushing along them slowly as he simply takes a moment to take in that pleasant smell. It's been too long since he's had dumplings, he thinks, lips following the curve of Talcott's fingers before he finally takes a bit. It's terribly improper, to leave something like that just half-bitten in one's grasp, however, so he finishes it off quickly enough with a second bite. And if this welcomes Talcott's fingers in just past his lips, and there's a brush of his tongue...

Well, that's just what happens with finger foods.

There's not much time for teasing however. Instead, just with the taste of good food in his mouth, Ignis automatically shifts into something thoughtful as he lets it rest in his mouth, takes in the juices that squeeze out with each bite. Yes, absolutely too long since he's had this indeed. "It's wonderful, Talcott," he promises him, smiling, before it becomes a little playful. "I imagine that you chose the nicest looking one of the lot?"

The finer wheat of Cleigne is something incredibly rare these days, what with most of the region utterly destroyed. It's only the fact that Dave still owes him a few favors and that Ezma has managed to maintain her own small crop of it for herself that he was able to get any at all. The claw meat is one thing, the more coastal animals are the ones still surviving half decently in some places, the majority of daemons being unable to swim to hunt them has been a blessing. It took careful orchestration to get this together but Talcott would still not call it work. This is very much just for them, not the world.

Still he couldn't stop the little hitch in his breath when he can feel the faintest brush of Ignis' tongue against his fingertips for all the world. A sound he doesn't quite realize he's made in the back of his throat, at once startled and yearning. If he has a moment, as he's drawing his hand back for another dumpling, where he brushes those same fingers against his own lips well. Ignis doesn't need to know.

"I- well... sort of?" Hmm that was the most whole one for certain. "There's a couple that are kind of weird." In that the neatly pinched center was, in fact, splaying outward like a half bloomed lopsided flower. Still perfectly edible just not really that presentable. It makes the balance of dough to filling a little off, each bite too much of one or the other. Especially as Talcot tried to make them smaller than Iggy does, keep them bite-sized.... ish.

Once the surprise of that first one is delivered, though, Talcott moves the plate closer, balances it overlapping on their thighs where they're pressed together. If Ignis wants to do the rest himself he can. But Talcott does pick up one more, repeating the same gesture, gently guiding Ignis' mouth toward it more than feeding him outright.

It's really unfair what something so simple does to his heartrate.

It's so hard to hold back when Talcott makes a little sound like that. It's a sound that reminds Ignis of his own time at that age, him and Gladio stealing time away together in little hidden spots where they were so certain they could get away with things. The noises they made, thing Ignis choked down. It's been so long, since then.

Sweet, really, to get such nostalgia just for kissing Talcott's fingers.

"Well, they are a difficult thing to master," Ignis agrees, listening to the faint scrape of the plate against wood. "It takes practice to get them right." Practice that isn't necessarily something they can afford right now. Maybe one day he'll write the instructions down, just for Talcott. Something to look back on. But in the absence of that... They'll enjoy what they have right now.

There's many ways to enjoy food even when it isn't perfect, after all. He shows that much as he takes in another bite. "Mmm... I think I missed some, Talcott." That's the only warning he gives as he drags his lips against Talcott's fingers, licks them with a swift flick of his tongue.

No, practice is not really viable these days, both for the scarcity of resources and the lack of time anyone has for such frivolities. Every task needs to be meaningful, helpful in some way. Learning or working, ensure there's enough for everyone, be it food, light, shelter. Too much to do to spend time making dumplings but he'd wanted to do something he knew Ignis enjoyed.

A soft smile curves his lips, accepting the reassurance for what it is, only to utterly lose his breath a moment later. There's nothing on his fingers, of course, a little smidge of tacky dough that had stuck to one fingertip maybe but certainly not enough to warrant Ignis' lips on his fingertips, his tongue a fleeting tease of heat. There's no hiding the little whimper that accompanies it this time, no even pretending that it's anything other than what it is.

"Ignis-" Breathed softly from right beside the other man, his tone nearly reverent. But he doesn't push for anything more. Though... he doesn't offer another dumpling either, hand frozen mid air for Ignis to do with as he pleases.

Well. It seems he has well and proper gotten Talcott's attention, if the way his finger freezes there still at his mouth is any indication.

Perhaps that's enough teasing for the time being, at least with Talcott and Ignis being - well, he wouldn't say first love, but first boyfriend, certainly. So while that hand remains trapped in place, Ignis guides his palm up those silky sleeves until his fingers can wind gently around Talcott's wrist.

"You know you're allowed to call me other things as well," he reminds him, tilting his head to the side and still smiling. "And... You are allowed other things as well, Talcott." Alright, a little bit of a tease- "Especially outside the cab of your truck."

He leans in again, a slightly more innocent kiss laid flat at his palm. If Talcott gets so worked up over just this little, well.. It may be for the best to encourage it now, rather than when their stomachs are full.

The teasing tone alone is enough to make his heart flutter in his chest like a trapped butterfly. It would be impossible not to pick up on what Ignis means by other things. It's there in the curve of his lips, the fingers circling his wrist, the slant of his head. Playful and certain and inviting in a way Talcott never thought would be directed at him.

He's already moving by the time Ignis says the bit about his truck, dumpling plate in hand and halfway back to the crate/side table. He freezes for a moment, turning back with wide eyes, blush racing across his cheeks. A small little noise of indignation in his throat and then there's the scrape of the plate returning to the table. What happens next has no business being as smooth as it is but Talcott has used how to use his strength as well as remaining agile, his combat style following after Cor and Ignis both.

So one moment he's beside Ignis, wrist caught in his grip. The next he's rolled up onto one knee to swing the other over Ignis' straddling his lap and pushing his hands up to cradle the other's between them. When their lips meet it's more insistent than their previous kisses, pressing hard and holding him near. A little clumsy, of course, but no less eager, working his lips against his boyfriend for a long moment before he dares let his tongue mimic the movements Ignis had done to his fingers, a swift flick against Ignis' lip.

"Was trying to be romantic." Murmured in the space between their breaths, a playful little nudge at his shoulder the only actual scolding part of it before his lips are on Ignis' once more.

Honestly, just knowing that Talcott freezes at the truck comment is enough to actually make Ignis laugh - a brighter one, the kind that he hasn't often had reason to indulge in with everything being what it is. Truly he thought himself so subtle, did he? When Ignis sleeps light and has sharp ears. When Talcott is so loud even when he tries not to be.

There's not much more to say, however. Not when Talcott is so quick, his weight heavy on Ignis's lap but not nearly as heavy as his kiss. For his swift decision, he's rewarded with a small gasp, and then a return of his kiss. More experienced by many years, certainly, but patient. Encouraging. Welcoming that curious little tongue before Talcott breaks the kiss between them for his complaint.

Ignis smiles. "You've been romantic all this time we've been together," he promises him, before any other words he could say are swallowed up.

Just not for long before the sounds around him rouse him out of this moment; Lestallum was never a quiet city. "Talcott- we're still in public."

Gods but he tried to be quiet, bit his wrist bloody on more than one occasion trying to muffle his whimpers. He'd tried so hard and had no idea how loud he actually was when he couldn't hear anything above his own panting breaths and the thrum of his pulse in his ears. Had Ignis heard the choked whimpers of his name that Talcott had cut off more times than he could count?

The very idea of it is enough to have him groaning against Ignis' lips, one hand sinking back into his hair, holding him close so Talcott can kiss him harder for one more instant before he breaks away once more. Tal lets his forehead drop to Ignis' shoulder, breathing a little too hard, face flushed scarlet and near enough to the other's neck that he's certain Ignis can feel it. The reminder only has him whining softly, turning his head so he can press his lips to Ignis' throat. Soft, shaking ever so slightly. He knows Iggy is right to protest but he's also so pleased to be in his lap like this.

"I used the truck to block us off. Someone would have to walk out to the railing over the crag to see us." He knows it's not enough. Not for someone as polite and proper as Ignis. But he presses one more eager nibbling kiss to his throat anyway. "I know. I know-"

But he can't bring himself to move away.

"There, there. It's a lot, isn't it?" Without thinking too hard, Ignis takes on a soothing tone. The grip in his hair is a little tight, but - not too much. Skirting it, perhaps, in a way he rather likes. His own pleasures are put to the side, however, in favor of gently stroking Talcott's back.

"You're so sweet like this, Talcott. You're very tempting." A turn of his head, a kiss into his hair. "But-" A slight catch of his breath in the face of teeth along his throat. "But we really should move."

Especially if all these very sweet noises Talcott makes only continue, in which case...

Well.

The camper will very likely not be enough to muffle it all, but it will be better than nothing at all. "Do you need help, Talcott?"

It is a lot. Of course it's a lot. He's so overwhelmed and part of him is frustrated for barely getting to let Ignis eat before he literally climbed into his lap. The hand on his back is soothing, gentle, could easily be just to help him remember to breathe. It's kind of hard to remember that with Iggy's hands on him, lips on his.

But that tone so sweet and soft and soothing and even though he knows, of course, that Ignis would never mean it that way it still sounds just close enough to the line between understanding and patronizing the Talcott jerks his head up, an irritated huff rushing out through his nose. In this of all things he absolutely does not want to be coddled.

"We should." And there's a warning in his tone, not whining and needy, not the same frustrated grumbling about romance and how he wanted to do this right. But a man determined to prove something. Many somethings, perhaps.

It's all the warning Ignis gets before Tal ducks his head again, fingers briefly tightening in his hair to help make him tip his head back so Talcott can get his mouth on Ignis' throat. Lips and tongue and just a little bit of teeth over his pulse, determined to get something more than just that little hitch of his breath out of the man. And it's only when he's achieved that when he finally pulls back, breathing hard because he hasn't figured out just how to breathe through his nose while doing these things.

"Right. Inside." Breathless but he does sit back a little to start gathering up some of the plates.

"Talcott-" Because of course he recognizes that particular tone, how exactly Talcott can get. Sometimes, it's like hearing his own echo coming back to him.

And Ignis knows himself and exactly what an echo can mean sometimes.

In some ways, it's not surprising when those fingers pull at his hair and force the arch of his neck. Yet still his heart kicks up in response to those lips, as though it can leap from his pulse right into that biting mouth. There's no skill here, not yet, but the stubbornness, the passion, all of that is enough to sheer right into him.

....However.

As Gladio could very well attest to, Ignis Scientia is an unbelievably stubborn individual. Sometimes for very valid and important reasons; he likely wouldn't be able to get back into fighting daemons while blind if he wasn't.

Other times, it may just be that there is something deeply wrong with the man.

Like right now.

Where Talcott's works to pull a stronger reaction from him, something louder than just a breath, Ignis actually only seems to get more quiet as best he can. His throat tenses and twitches underneath Talcott's determined attentions, heartbeat right there at his lips... But, through some sort of inhuman effort, doesn't make a sound besides his strained breathing and huffs of air. There's just the press of his hands. The occasional pull as his fingers dig into Talcott's shirt.

That means the entire stupid thing goes on perhaps much longer than it would for a normal person who doesn't few sex as a competitive sport. Longer still depending on if Talcott finds 'something more' to be good enough with the scrape of his boot heel against the ground as he arches up against him, or if he explicitly needs some sort of noise, any sound that might finally pull out from Ignis's tight throat.

It's all very stupid.

When Talcott finally pulls away, he'll at least get a view to reward his efforts: Ignis with his face flushed a deep red visible there in the Lestallum lights which peer through around and past their truck, exposed throat a roadmap showing all of the stops his teeth made on pale skin.

"Inside indeed," he says when he finally manages to speak, pushing himself up straight on the little makeshift couch. "Although, really, Talcott..."

Where Talcott leans forward, he'll find Ignis leaning to - but against his back, chest to his spine and mouth at his ear.

"Cover it to retain the warmth, and leave it be."

It is infuriating in so many ways. Especially because he can tell, eventually, that it is sheer stubborn determination on Ignis' part. Bastard.

But isn't that exactly why Talcott is like this too?

It does go on longer than it should. Especially because Talcott is so inexperienced with this and Ignis is denying him any feedback that might help him learn what to do better, where his teeth are welcome and where they're uncomfortable, how hard to suck and when to move on. So he really does just make an absolute mess of Ignis' throat. He must be doing something right though because Ignis does, eventually, arch against him and that's when the whining needy boy returns, relief in that sound. How is he meant to do this right with no guidance whatsoever, Ignis?

Being able to see the evidence of his mouth on Ignis' skin, the way he's flushed so bright despite his stubborn silence. All little signs that he wasn't doing too badly on his own. He hopes.

Oh but then Ignis is leaning against his back, that smooth voice in his ear, and what little restraint he might have had left vanishes. He's on his feet in a moment, reaching down to drag Ignis to his feet along with him. "It'll reheat." Half muttered under his breath and then he's kissing Ignis once more, hands in his shirt, pulling him along, trying to do too many things at once. Everything at once.

Really, nothing new there either.

Considering that pleased smile on Ignis's lips that can be felt against Talcott's own hungry mouth as they kiss? This is going exactly as he wanted it.

Well, mostly how he wanted it. With how Talcott is trying to multitask so much with something he's not particularly experienced in, Ignis finds fit to break the kiss, taking his boyfriend by the hands. "Patience now," he says as though this isn't at least a quarter his fault for riling the other man up. "Wouldn't want to trip."

This is half a tease, but half serious. With Talcott so eager and himself not wholly sure if anything else has changed in his immediate surroundings, it's a viable problem.

So Ignis takes the lead again, hand at Talcott's while he moves them and trusting his partner to course correct. He even holds up on some of the teasing he wants to do, trying to sate him with kisses rather than rile him up any further.

Talcott pauses for a moment, holds tight to Ignis' hands when he takes them. For a second he just leans in to press his forehead to Iggy's shoulder, taking a couple grounding breaths. "Y-yeah. Sorry." Not for being eager but for being a little too eager, enough to make him clumsy and reckless. He's trying so hard not to just fall apart but everything about Ignis makes it so hard.

Finally he lifts one hand, strokes his boyfriend's cheek lightly. "I would never let you fall." A moment of that soft, heartbreaking earnestness. Whether it's something so simple as tripping over his own silly rearranging of things or... the way he obtained the new scar marring his cheek. He means it, puts his everything into these quiet little vows he makes every day. Has made for years whether Ignis realized the extent of how deep the feelings behind them went or not.

It's that moment that helps him remember to breathe, to pace himself a little better. Not that it stops him from hurrying alongside his boyfriend towards the camper. "Left 2" a soft murmur, habitual for when things are new or arranged strangely, not interrupting in the slightest but giving Ignis a tiny bit of guidance. Two steps forward, a slight veer to the left, and he'll find the door for the camper since he's in the lead now.

Once they make it up the little trio of steps into the camper proper Talcott does something he never does. Closing not just the screen door but the actual door. It's too hot in Lestallum to close everything up but this at least they need. Inside everything is just as Ignis is familiar with and that makes Tal bolder yet, crowding Ignis against the wall that has the small fridge and some storage built into it so he press into the other man once more. His kisses are not quite so frantic now... though they're likely to get there again very quickly.

Those fingers at his cheek are joined, Ignis's overlapping them. "And you think you have to worry about being romantic or not," he says, so terribly fond that it makes his heart ache.

There's not long to dwell on that. Just moving, heading right back into the camper, and he perks up at the sound of the door actually clicking shut. So he's sensible, then. Good. That means Ignis doesn't have to worry in the slightest as he's pressed up against the wall, his arms wrapping around Talcott to draw him deeper into the kiss.

"So is this how you've always wanted me?" he asks inbetween contact, smiling once again. "Beneath you, while you did whatever you liked to me?"

Ignis' arms around him only make him press himself more fully against the other, savoring those kisses. A self-conscious chuckle muffled between them when Ignis asks that. He has things to answer with but he needs at least three more kisses before he can reclaim space enough to speak at least. He leans his brow against Ignis', bumps their noses together in a silly little affectionate gesture.

"Maybe? It's- It's definitely on the list but... Astrals, Iggy I've thought of so much." Talcott's words are barely above a murmur, fingers sliding up over Ignis' chest to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. "I wouldn't know where to sta- hm"

The sound is something curious and thoughtful. Something that has him tilting his head and leaning in for one more kiss, slower and sweeter. "It'll drive me crazy before long but-" Talcott's hands drift away from Ignis' buttons, seeking out the other man's hands and bringing them up. Gently he sets Ignis' fingertips at his brow where he's started a few times over the years, mapping out the changes in Talcott's face as he's grown. "You've, sort of, 'seen' my face. I want you to see everything."

Even if Talcott doesn't know where to start, Ignis imagines he can come up with more than a few ideas - so long as Talcott lets him, at any rate. But before he can so much as make a suggestion, there's that little curious sound right against his lips, their noses still brushing.

"Everything... Is that so?" His smile grows softer as his fingers ghost along the curve of Talcott's brow, feeling all the ways it's changed since he's known him. "I understand. But in that case, we really should go to the bed. I won't settle for a poor job of this, you know." He'll take in every little bit of him.

Talcott lets himself do precisely what he's ached to do for years. As Ignis' fingers ghost over his features he leans into each touch with a soft, contented sigh. The way Ignis' teasing softens, the smile he gives Talcott when he explains what he wants, both for Ignis and himself. It's enough to make his breath hitch with emotion all over again.

"Of course you wouldn't." Talcott laughs softly, delighted that Ignis doesn't think it too sappy, is willing to indulge him a little in this. And maybe, some small part of him, wants to feel Ignis' hands on him, wants him to be able to really appreciate how he's changed, how he's grown. Not that there's any doubt, not with they way Ignis kisses him or how he'd let Talcott press him against the wall, nearly the same height and perhaps even a touch broader. When he's done filling out he'll be far more impressive than one might have expected of that scrawny 11 year old.

One more stolen kiss and then Talcott finally steps back, keeps the fingers of one hand tangled with Ignis' as he moves to the back of the camper where the bed awaits them both. He's already kicking off his boots at least as they go, uncertain if he should take his shirt off or if he should let Ignis do it. How much Ignis wants to do. How much it's expected he would do-

No no he's getting in his head again.

Indeed, he's certainly getting too into his own head again, because Ignis makes that decision for him. Before they can quite reach the bed, he comes to an abrupt stop, tugging Talcott with him. "Right here," he murmurs, tugging at him just slightly so that he gets the message to turn around. Only then does he step right up to him, both hands rising up.

For all the passion that they've been wrapped up in, for all the teasing Ignis has done to him since they first sat down... There's nothing of that anymore. It's just the light ghosting of his fingertips along Talcott's face as though it's the first thing he's gotten to feel in years. A skim along his hairline, a slow drag down the curve of his jaw...

And then Ignis's lips. Following each touch, a little fluttery kiss as though that will help imprint it all the more strongly in his memories. To his forehead, to his jaw, along the very tip of his nose and then ducking in to his ear. A trail made first by his fingertips at the arch of his throat and then stalwartly followed by his mouth. While it's busy there, agile as ever, his fingers work along Talcott's shirt to continue the process all over again.

Almost a shame, really - it's such a nice shirt. Nicer than anything, considering. But that's exactly why it'll need to come all the way off, unbuttoned fully and then slid back off of his shoulders.

He stops obediently, turns easily when Ignis tells him to, makes a small curious noise as his brow furrows lightly and he tilts his head. A soft gasp accompanies the first feather light touch to his face and as Ignis' lips begin to follow the trailing path his fingers take Talcott's left to simply gasp and shiver under the light touches. At first his hands hover uncertainly, not sure where he should place them, if he should.

Then slowly he lowers then to Ignis' sides, fingers just as light where they rest at his boyfriend's waist. Every other breath is a sound, sweet and soft, treasuring each new sensation. Gradually, as Ignis begins to work down his throat, Talcott lets his head loll back, fingers tightening in the other's shirt.

"I-Iggy..." His sounds are every bit as indulgent as the sweet flutter of Ignis' lips on his skin. For a moment he thinks perhaps he should go back to unbuttoning Ignis' shirt too. It's so hard to will himself to do anything when Ignis is spoiling him like this though, when he can luxuriate in the feel of his lips and the love behind each of those touches. It's so sweet and gentle, sensual in exactly the right ways but also laden with more emotion than he'd expected when he suggested this.

By the time his shirt is slipping off to the floor Talcott is whimpering, pleading little gasps of Ignis' name. Hands alternating between clinging to his side and stroking Iggy's hair, gentle encouragement in each touch, in the way he shivers with each breath.

When his lips find a soft spot right in the center of Talcott's chest, he can feel the way his heart is beating so hard, so fast. As though it might leap right out. Ignis lingers for a long moment there with teeth and lips alike, in a way well practiced and which he knows will make a small mark blossom there over the hours to come.

Ignis won't be able to see it... but he'll know it's there.

Just like he'll know he'll have kissed the curve of Talcott's shoulders, lingered on those well developed arms that have pulled him from danger so often. Repeated again on the other side, that perfect partner which makes up a pair that's held him so closely. And then, as he slowly lowers himself down onto his knees... He down the hands attached until he can raise those, too, up to his lips.

"Ready, Talcott?" he whispers, keeping his eyes closed as he tilts his head up to him, lips still to his fingers. With the way his eye doesn't focus, can't, he imagines it's better this way. Doesn't ruin the moment.

This is it. Ignis Scientia is going to kill him and he will die happily.

The slow lingering kisses and touches, the way every piece of it is so achingly tender he's torn between losing himself to the sensations or being swept away by how deeply he loves this man that is so perfectly sweet to him. But he's afraid he might do something ridiculous, like crying, if he lets himself get too caught up in the way his heart trips over itself in a frantic rhythm just for him.

It's a good thing, then, that Ignis decides to ply teeth as well as lips to that spot on his chest, working at hard-won muscle until Talcott has fingers in his hair again. He doesn't try to pull Ignis away, would never dream of it, but he needs something to hold onto as the heat of that clever mouth heightens to a strange kind of ache that makes him want to squirm and writhe. It's all he can do to stay where he is, his free hand shaking slightly as Ignis comes back up along his shoulders and Talcott does his best to detour him for a moment, only briefly so he can kiss him once more, anchor himself again before those lips drift away again.

The last thing he expects, somehow, is Ignis going down to his knees. The sight alone, those beautiful lips pressed to his fingers, makes his knees weak and a low, wavering moan escapes him. "I have no idea." He mutters, a delirious little laugh following the words, his free hand moving to stroke Ignis' cheek. "But I- I don't know if I can keep my feet just looking at you like that never mind-"

He trails off again with another distressingly high pitched sound somewhere between eager and embarrassed.

"Well, try not to collapse on our first night together." Ignis grins, still right there againt Talcott's fingers. "That would be rather embarrassing, having to treat you for whatever bump you'd get on your head." Still, he understands. Good, really, that they're at this point of the process.

Because all he really needs to do is let go of Talcott's hand and reach forward, find exactly where his pants are and how they're done up. At least this he always knew he could do with his eyes closed; being blind doesn't change much to undo them, and tug them down over Talcott's hips, down to his knees.

Talcott only gets one moment to take in the sight of his dick right there by Ignis's face... before Ignis reaches up and shoves him back and onto the bed.

"Make yourself comfortable, Talcott."

Ignis grins against his fingers like that and Talcott laughs breathlessly as well, some measure of the tension breaking at the idea of falling over and making that much of a mess of things. It gives him a moment to better trust his footing before Ignis' hands are on his pants, and Talcott forgets to breathe entirely. It's a very different thing from anything he'd ever imagined, watching Ignis unfasten his pants, perfectly practiced in a way that Talcott should have expected. In the wee hours of the night his thoughts were always a jumble of different things, snippets of scenarios but nothing concrete. Certainly nothing that could have prepared him for the heart stopping anticipation of it all.

It's so quick and efficient, his pants sliding down and then his view of Ignis' beautiful face interrupted by his own erection, close enough that he can feel the other man's breath on heated skin and he hardly has time to register that Ignis has moved before he's toppling backwards onto the bed. If nothing else... he finally remembers to breathe.

One sharp, startled gasp and then he grunts as he falls back onto the mattress, the air half knocked out of him just by virtue of how unexpected it was. It's a little awkward and he has to take a moment to shake one foot free of this pant leg before he pushes himself up on his elbows. "Ignis?" Curious and unsure. Part of him ready to scramble up the bed so Ignis has plenty of room to sprawl out between his legs, the rest too stunned by what's happening to move from the edge of the bed where Ignis can stay there on his knees.

He- He should move right? Right?

"I can- um." Hold on a sec, he needs to free his other leg before he can move too much or he's just going to get tangled.

Hearing the scramble of fingers on sheets, the slide of a foot to the floor, has Ignis pull back just to ensure he doesn't accidentally get himself kicked with Talcott's own foot. It also has him chuckle, endeared by the scramble of noise.

"Remember your shoes," he says, head cocked to the side as he listens for signs of settling again. Is that it.... He thinks so, and his hand goes to bracket his ankle, skim up his calf. "Comfortable, Talcott?"

Because this may take a while again, with how thorough he plans on being.

Okay he managed to get one boot off before Iggy pounced him. It is, in fact, somewhere on the floor near Ignis right now. But with Ignis reiterating that question he decides that, yes, moving up is a good idea. It takes another moment or two of shuffling to finish peeling off his clothes and make sure he's not right on the edge of the bed. Still close enough, however, that Ignis can easily do as he pleases.

Just a hand on his calf shouldn't be enough to make him shudder but it is, it absolutely is, another small sound catching in his chest. He sits up though, all the way this time, leans forward a little so he can reach out and trail his fingers over Ignis' cheek once more. "Almost." A quiet murmur before he leans in to steal another kiss, something he doesn't have the willpower to keep gentle, though he does keep it relatively short.

Then he's leaning his forehead against Iggy's, smiling a hair's breadth away from his lips. "I love you." Another gust of amusement at his own sappiness? nervousness? all of it. "Okay. Yeah. Comfy." But he only leans back on his hands a little, not ready to fall back and lose sight of the other man.

There is perhaps a trend Ignis is picking up on here, as Talcott keeps leaning in to surprise him with kiss after kiss, almost needing them as though a diver underwater needs air.

He can't say he would mind this sort of trend.

"I love you as well," he says back, stealing another kiss of his own before Talcott can pull back to rest against the couch. It doesn't seem to be completely from what he can hear; camper beds tend to make a lot of noise. They always did but especially moreso with the times being what they are. There's nothing so heavy as to disturb them as much as they could be, just a slight and short noise.

Well, if he'd like a show, by all means.

Down low as he is, Ignis decides to start from the opposite end this time. Talcott has probably never had much reason to think about his own feet before, but that's about to change. Those feather light touches continue even here, following the arch of his foot, grazing along his heel, lifting it up so that Ignis can bow his head and start his trail of kisses there. Foot, to the delicate curve of Talcott's ankle, following his fingers up to his calf, pressing down into the softness of his thigh...

....But not to one area in particular, not yet.

It is a trend and one Ignis will have to contend with for the forseable future. Talcott hadn't quite expected Ignis' lips to follow his hands, for each featherlight touch to be taken with such care. He should of, that's something he realized as soon as Ignis started, but he hadn't thought that far ahead when he'd said it and now he has to deal with Ignis' face being much too far away. He can't help it, he needs to kiss the other man more than he needs to breathe and if he isn't able to murmur sweet things against his lips for more than a few minutes he might just wither away.

Nothing could have prepared him for Ignis kissing his way along his foot of all things and the touches are light enough that he's not sure if it tickles or feels nice. It's a muddled sort of sensation that has him squirming all too quickly, the heel of his free foot pulled up to dig into the edge of the mattress. Once Ignis has finally moved past the delicate skin at his ankle Talcott collapses back onto the bed with a huff.

He pants for a moment before pressing his hands over his face and groaning loudly when Ignis finally moves up to his thigh. It's not a conscious decision but as he finally relaxes again his legs fall open wider, inviting but not demanding, not yet. He's waited years to have Ignis' hands on him, that perfect mouth on his skin. Eager though he might be for more he will savor every moment Ignis gives him.

Well. Maybe not if he starts over on the other leg with his foot. Then he might just flail himself straight off the bed.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?" Amused and breathless with just a little bit of exasperation in his tone. Oh he knows Ignis too well to think this won't be precisely where he's going to be for a maddeningly long time. But Iggy will be able to hear the fond smile in his voice, how much he's enjoying this even if (or maybe because) his boyfriend is using his own request against him.

There's that tell-tale creak, and Ignis is smiling wide as he moves up, kisses peppered along Talcott's brow and cheek before finding a home on his mouth. "You were the one who asked this of me," he points out, although they both know that he's taking it much farther than that. It doesn't stop his smile, however. "I'm merely fulfilling the request."

With one arm braced against the mattress, this leave the other free to drift up along Talcott's thigh, find the hard press of his hip and skim along his pelvis.

"I'll never do things half-heartedly, Talcott. Especially not for those I love." Another kiss. "And you are having delightful reactions, I must say."

Ignis moving up over him gives Talcott an opportunity to touch him in return, finally. His arms immediately wrapping around the other man, one hand at the back of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. One that he moans into as Ignis' hand moves up his thigh. There's a moment there where he almost wants to pout, to tell Iggy he knows this isn't quite what he meant. But seeing that smile on his lips, warm and so very pleased, knowing he's the one that put it there, he doesn't have the heart.

He's right not to, it seems, with how sweet and romantic Ignis gets the next moment. But it's impossible not to continue squirming at least a little with Ignis' hand on him. He lifts his leg to press into the touches at his thigh, arches beneath him when those fingers reach his hip. That last kiss is broken with a sharp gasp and Talcott's hands drag down Ignis' back, struggling for something to hold onto and finding only fabric. Damnable fabric when he should have warm skin beneath his palms.

"How could I not?" A muffled helpless groan, anticipation quickening his breathing even more than the almost ticklish sensations did. But he still has enough focus to pull his hands around between them, doing his best to work quickly at unfastening the buttons of Ignis' shirt so he can press his hands up inside it. He may not have the patience for all of them if his hand carries on it's current path but he'll at least have room enough to touch in return.

From the moment that Talcott's fingers drag down the rough texture of his shirt - sticking unpleasantly if Ignis is honest, all sweat from moving about in the boiling heat of Lestallum that's ten times worse than it ever was when they used to visit it when daytime existed - he already knows exactly where they'll end up. It's just a matter of when his dear boyfriend can get over his new favorite habit of kissing him as though he might drown otherwise.

There's no need to be so desperate, really.... but Ignis appreciates the energy.

"Careful, now," he murmurs, when those lovingly calloused palms finally drag around to the front, and fingers that should be rather clever begin to fumble at his buttons. "You might just give me a swollen ego with such praise.

Still, he's hardly cruel. Helpful, in fact, as he makes sure to push up on his palms so that there's nothing in Talcott's way as he works on the buttons - no kisses, or awkward angles. At worse, when he undoes the first couple of top buttons, something slips out, and bumps against his knuckles. A simple beaded necklace, with a skull accessory on it.

"You know, I had much more skin to cover."

Some of that desperation comes from just how close he came to missing out on this, something that he's reminded of every time he kisses Ignis. Every time he touches him it's with even more wonder than the last. That he's allowed this, that he almost let himself miss this chance with this man he loves so dearly.

Part of it is, of course, that for however much he insists he's not (or at least not only), Talcott is a teenager and one that has spent the entirety of his adolescence yearning for this. To have Ignis' hands on him. To be able to kiss him, touch him, not needing to worry about crossing any lines just luxuriating his his love and affections.

Never mind that Talcott is, has always been, a quick study and an enthusiastic learner. Why should this be any different? Especially when the study material is so enticing.

"Hah. You know exactly how good you are." Swollen ego. That only counts if it overexaggerated and Talcott knows very well that Ignis is as confident as he is because he can back it up with skill and precision. Precision. A skill they usually share but Talcott's fingers refuse to cooperate for the moment. An excited rush and the way he shivers just with Ignis' proximity, even now that his hands are both firmly planted on the mattress. Eventually he yanks Iggy's shirt out of his pants enough to get at the last button.

As soon as it's freed Talcott is shoving the offending material off his boyfriend's body, letting his hands skate over all that newly bared skin. "You can still cover it. I just... wanted to touch you too." The words swiftly muffled by trailing kisses to whatever patch of skin he can reach. Shoulders, arms, chest... he'll have to collapse back eventually when Ignis picks up his exploration but he's going to take all the time he can to map out his lover's body just as thoroughly.

Frankly speaking, there's something rather charming to that eagerness. And if his fingers slip along buttons, that's just what comes along with it. Is in fact necessary for that charm, until those warm hands can push his shirt off. Only then does Ignis push himself up a little bit, knees pressed against the edge of the mattress so that his shoulders can roll back. It will be a bit of a bother to find it again, when all is said and done...

But for the feel of even a little air rolling over it to cool his sweaty body, Talcott's palms sliding over muscles and old scars, he thinks he'll accept that later chore just fine.

This time, it's his turn to shiver as lips travel along his body, following the hard press of his collar bone down to his chest. "Apologies for the state I'm in," he murmurs, even as his fingers skirt along Talcott's shoulders, and one hand slides into the hair at his nape. "Unlike someone, I rather wasn't expecting a romantic dinner, so I neglected to clean up."

Talcott's the reason's it's getting tossed aside on the floor. The least he can do, later -much later if he has his way- is help Ignis find the stupid shirt again. The important thing right now is that he has all that beautiful skin bared for his hands, his mouth, reverent kisses and those hands that fumbled so much on the buttons far more comfortable in the way the hold firmly onto Ignis.

"Gods" A soft murmur of wonder when he drags his mouth away long enough to look up at Ignis, to watch the way the muted golden light of the camper highlights the lines of his body. There's a thought there, words that want to escape, to tell him how breathtakingly beautiful he is. How he's perfect and how much Talcott loves him.

Then Ignis is apologizing and he can hear the eye roll in the exasperated breath that follows. Even with the teasing that comes after Talcott isn't listening, hands already cradling Ignis' face to meet him for another almost possessive kiss. More assertive than Talcott has been so far (save for the marks that now adorn Ignis' throat). "Shut up." Mumbled between their mouths, messily enough that Ignis might have trouble understanding the words, if not the sentiment.

One hand mimic's Ignis', fingers toying with his hair while he continues to kiss him. He's stalled quite enough though, as far as Tal's concerned, and if Ignis doesn't get back to tormenting him Talcott might just have to see about switching their positions.

Considering the smile that Talcott tries to so possessively swallow up in a kiss, Ignis will absolutely not shut up. Not in the long run, at any rate. But for a temporary bit of respite? That's far more manageable, and Ignis tightens his grip against Talcott's hair, returns that passion with no small amount of his own.

Yet he never intended to stay up here for very long, really. Just a temporary little visit, to give Talcott a break from all his attention. So soon enough, he tightens his grip in Talcott's hair to pull him away, and licks his lips. "Now, quite enough of that," he says, voice just a little ragged at the edges from how much of themselves they'd put into that kiss. "After all, I've not quite finished fulfilling your request, my dear." And his hands settle back down on Talcott's shoulders, pushing him hard back down to the mattress.

At least it's not a far journey for him to go down to where he should be, his reaching down to skim from Talcott's knee and skimming across the top of his foot again. "Ticklish, are you, Talcott?"

Those fingers winding tight in his hair pulls a gasp from Talcott, one immediately smothered by more kisses. It's the second twist, the way Ignis uses that hold to drag them apart that has him groaning, nails digging into Ignis' shoulder lightly. That having his hair pulled could feel quite so good all on it's own is a startling realization but one he can't deny. Oh but then Ignis speaks and the texture of his voice alone earns a pleased little hum from Talcott. He sounds good like that, kissed so thoroughly that his usual crisp diction is blurred at the edges, roughened with want.

But none of that could have prepared him for the pressure of Ignis' hands on his shoulders, pinning him back down to the mattress in an abrupt show of strength and control that startles a needy little whine out of the teen. Ignis moving back immediately after has Talcott pushing himself back up to try to follow him, one hand reaching after the older man. By the time Ignis' fingers are trailing over the top of his foot Talcott surrenders though, slumping back down onto the bed, still breathing hard.

"I didn't think so." Huffed out between amusement and just an edge of frustration starting to bleed into his voice. He doesn't want to rush this, at all. By the Six, though, Ignis is taking his sweet time teasing him. Especially those fingers over the top of his foot that have him squirming again already, knowing it is likely to get so much worse. He had never been the one to squeal and flail when attacked with tickles as a kid, that had always been Iris, but apparently he was a lot more sensitive than he'd realized. Or maybe he's just so hyper aware of every place Ignis touches him that he can't help writhing about it.

"Then I'm glad to help you learn something more about himself." Even if Talcott can't quite see that little smile on Ignis's face, certainly he can hear it in his voice. There is honestly a temptation, here, to tease him on that particular matter for a good while longer. Talcott has been making such adorable noises this entire time; Ignis thinks he could listen to them for awhile longer.

Yet he supposes he should be kind. This is their first time together, and... Ignis supposes that he has a fondness for romance in the end over anything else. Better than the fumbling when he and Gladio first went about it, and that little embarrassment that Nyx never did let them forget about.

So fortunately for Talcott, Ignis's lips only light upon the front of his ankle for a moment before going back up his leg. No dallying about, although his leg is still kissed up the length.

There's another difference as well, and that would be his hands helping his legs spread out just a little more so that he can make himself quite comfortable between them, down there on the floor. His kisses drift dangerously inwards along one thigh. Opposite, his hand ghosts along the other, until his fingertips brush along that eager arousal he knows is right there between them.

For as long as they've known one another, worked with one another, Ignis truly knows only a little bit of Talcott thanks to the annual indulgence he's allowed. That's only truly covered a trivial portion of the other - his face, his shoulders, those areas mainly. This entire moment has been as much of a learning experience for him as Talcott, getting to truly understand the way the other man has filled out.

It shall be interesting to see how he's filled out here as well.

It's a terribly conflicted feeling, that smile in Ignis' voice makes him want to do more for the other man, let him continue on tormenting him so long as he can hear that delightful note of amusement. But then his hands and lips move over his skin and Talcott wants nothing more than to beg him to stop teasing him so. He won't. He knows better, of course. Giving Ignis a demand is the fastest way to get him to do anything else.

He's entirely at Ignis' mercy and perhaps that only adds to how responsive he is. How responsive he always is for Ignis, no matter what they might be doing. Every fleeting touch getting another soft sound of appreciation. But as Ignis settles back to the floor, those perfect lips trailing up along his thigh, Talcott grows quiet. He hardly dares to breathe lest he somehow discourage the path Ignis takes up his leg. But Ignis will still hear his breaths, the rasp of fabric as Talcott's fingers twist into the sheets.

The first featherlight touch of Ignis' fingers has a tight whine start up in his throat. The anticipation like this may well be the thing that kills him. Not the bullets of blood loss or any of a thousand more mundane reasons. Just Ignis Scientia, taking his time exploring Talcott's body will be enough.

"Iggy..." He doesn't mean for it to sound so plaintive but it does anyway, even as Talcott is reaching down, struggling to find his boyfriend's other hand so he can anchor himself to the other. He lets his knees spread wider, tilts his hips up toward that touch. Everything in him straining and eager, the muscles beneath Ignis' mouth near trembling with restraint until he finally has to gasp in a sharp breath, the words coming unbidden. "Please, Ignis."

Almost more than the eager rise of Talcott's hips, the desperate keen of his name, there is something... so very beautiful about feeling those fingers feel out for his own. To take in those calloused palms, tended to so lovingly so that they are soft and smooth to his senses, and feel how the fingers entangle with his own.

Something sweeter than all of it, that he adores.

"I suppose I can't deny you, when you ask so politely," he breathes out, moving his body with elbow and knees more than anything else due to his position. It's a little tricky doing a proper blowjob when he's blind, sometimes, at least at the start, but that's why he has his own scouting hand from before to thank. Makes it easier to not embarrass himself as he lowers his head, breath gusting over the throbbing heat his fingers are wrapped around.

One would think it easy enough to simply start at the top. Traditional, even. And yet his breath trickles downwards, until his lips are right there at the base, parted wide for a sloppy kiss that brushes against the soft skin past it and along his sack.

He could make a teasing joke, he supposes, about how Talcott had clearly liked him messy considering how he'd kissed his sweaty body...

But alas, his mouth is rather full, wet kisses all against Talcott's arousal.

It's hardly the first time, and it certainly won't be the last, that Talcott has reached out to Ignis, taken his hand and held it tight like a lifeline against whatever emotions he might be feeling. When something new or overwhelming was happening. The first time he'd needed stitches, the first time Cor had let him drive, the first time they'd found the mention of Ardyn's name and been able to tie him to the old Adagium legends with certainty. So many little firsts and emotional highs that have taken place in his life had happened hand in hand with this man.

It's only fair that in this, possibly the most intense of both, he should reach out for Ignis once more. The anchor of Ignis' hand in his is also probably the only thing that keeps him from coming up off the bed when the teasing trickle of breath becomes the wet heat of Ignis' lips. Even with that anchor he arches beneath the other, carefully trying to control himself enough not to jerk too much, not wanting to do anything to disrupt Ignis. What is not controlled in the slightest is the stuttering cry those perfect lips wring from him.

For all the times he'd considered it, thought about what it might feel like to have Ignis with him like this, or at least something similar, the actual sensation is so far beyond anything he could have imagined. Cliche, perhaps, but somethings are cliches for a reason and this is definitely one of those. It's not just one kiss for him to adjust to, though, no of course Ignis is immediately going right back to being maddeningly thorough.

Which leaves Ignis to listen to the frantic scrabble of fingers against fabric, Talcott's free hand twisting in the sheets, only to jolt with the next slick press of lips and his grip to falter. He doesn't have any idea what to do with himself other than pant and squirm, sharp little sounds punched out of him and fingers desperately searching for another anchor.

In the back of his head, distantly, there's a pang of disappointment, of loss. One of those little things that rolls up into the surface again and again, no matter how many years it's been since he first lost his sight. Just what things are he missing, because he can't see the exact expression Talcott is making? How his lips part, if his brow winds tight together in pleasure, all of that.

It's a pity. All he has are the sounds of his nails, raking across the sheets, and those little noises as his rough breath winds out from his throat.

Still, if it's all he has, then he'll quite gladly milk those sensations for what they're worth, and let his tongue savor every centimeter of warm salty flesh his mouth can cover. Especially when he finally reaches the very top, and hot breath rolls over the cock head. "Don't get too excited already," he murmurs right against him, reaching out towards those sounds until his hand can reach out and grab Talcott by his wrist, the one with that scrambling hand. "There's even more for you, my dear."

He's already whining in response to those words, taunting him against sensitive flesh, when Ignis' hand finds his wrist. Talcott twists in that grasp, not to get away but to return it. At least for a moment before he's using that second anchor for just a little bit of leverage to drag himself upright again. He does his best not to shift his hips too much, to at least keep himself close enough that his cock might smear pre and saliva over Ignis' cheek but it is still there against his face where he can keep track of Talcott's movements even with both hands occupied.

Once he's up though Tal bends over Ignis, back bowed and he has to strain a little to manage it but he presses a kiss to the top of his head. "Gimme-" A panted laugh, his heart hammering hard enough that his chest aches with it and his voice wavers. "A second."

He's close enough that Ignis will feel the shake of his head in the way his hair shifts, Talcott's breath disheveling it even more. "W-wait- Stars you're gorgeous-" He only barely draws back enough to look down at Ignis' face, lips reddened with kisses and the work he's already put in. It will take a moment for him to reel in his breathing, to feel less like every touch from Ignis is an electric jolt up his spine. He's still not sure how much he trusts himself to last longer than a few minutes with Ignis' mouth on him but gradually he withdraws his wrist from his boyfriend's grasp so he can smooth his fingers back through thick ashen hair.

"Maybe..." Another weak laugh but he straightens up after a moment, willing to let Ignis carry on and, theoretically, more able to keep himself from falling apart the moment he gets that perfect mouth around him. "Don't get your hopes too high."

At least he can poke fun at himself a little bit for being so young and excitable.

Even if it puts a halt to the momentum that the two of them have built up to this point - or, rather, that they've admittedly got carried away with starting all the way from when Talcott first started to hand feed him dinner - then Ignis truly doesn't mind. There's only the briefest moment of concern when he feels Talcott shifting, pushing upwards... and that is rather quickly set to the side when he feels that kiss right there in his hair.

Really, now. Gladio could take some pointers from his brother, here, in kissing Ignis far more. He thinks he rather likes the habit in a way he never could have imagined.

In the meanwhile, he waits right here contentedly, listening to the gradual shift in Talcott's breath, how it falls back into a steadier rhythm. The precum dries a little bit in the meanwhile, tacky on his cheek, but that's just the price one pays to perform good fellatio. Besides... it gives him some ideas.

One in particular he'll pursue later, but perhaps not right now. Turning his head, he lays a softer kiss on the inside of Talcott's leg. "Well then, if that's the case... Perhaps we should finish with a bang, don't you think?"

Even as he's speaking, his words are flowing right along Talcott's erection just as he's rising his head up, brushing his lips carefully to help guide him all the way up to the top.... before, right as he finishes his words, he parts his lips and slides down that warm cock all the way to the base, nose nuzzling against the soft hair he eventually finds on the way down. He sucks, throat squeezing down tight on whatever has breached that far, before dragging his mouth right back up.

He is, quite frankly, only expecting a pump or two of this before orgasm, but he's fine with being pleasantly surprised.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that could prepare him for what comes after those teasing words. His lips move, his breath hot on his skin and that's enough to Have Talcott already struggling to maintain the fleeting peace he managed. Processing the actual words Ignis breathes out against his cock? Not happening. The tone, however, is enough to tell him he is not prepared.

Even in his wildest dreams he could not have imagined Ignis not just taking him into that perfect, beautiful mouth but swallowing him whole in one smooth motion. It doubles him over, hunched over Ignis' head, fingers twisted into his hair again. At least at first. He hardly registers the sound that rings through the camper, the broken wail that he only thinks to muffle far too late.

By the time Ignis is drawing back there isn't enough air left in him to cry out with that second stroke, a muffled curse perhaps but it's hard to tell because he can't stay bent over Ignis like this and still let the man move. Gods help him he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Good, magnificent, blinding pleasure but there'd been a thought there, briefly, to not give himself over to orgasm immediately.

He manages to last more than two but only just barely, rocking his hips up to meet Ignis' lips before his body goes tense beneath the other man. Another ragged cry spills from him along with the rush of seed that spills so neatly into Ignis' throat like this. That cry was, in some ways, reminiscent of Ignis' name but it's too strangled to make out as anything coherent. For as tense as he is, as much as he wants to twist those fingers in Ignis' hair and keep him right there, his beautiful throat sheathing his cock, Talcott forces his fingers to unclench. It's a struggle, giving Ignis that freedom when all he wants is to hold him so close. But one he manages with shaking hands and strained breaths and something like a sob hitching in his chest just from the intensity of it all.

Hm.

So.

Talcott is even louder than Ignis thinks he could have ever calculated for, even knowing what he did about certain nighttime habits he used to have while they were traveling out on the road.

This is good to know for the future.

The present has him being far more concerned with staying nestled right where he is, almost content with the motion and the sweet sting from where Talcott's fingers wind so very tight in his hair, like sparks of electricity that accompany of thick swallow. Or, if not content, then certainly satisfied as he kneels there to every desperate sobbing wail from Talcott's lips as he spills straight into his gullet. The taste is a bit much, especially after the lovely food they have waiting for them outside.... but Ignis thinks he likes it as a side dish nonetheless.

He waits, patient and thorough, to wring out every last drop. Until Talcott's poor spent length is limp in his mouth, and Ignis's tongue can sweep away anything left over right at the very tip as he draws back up. He doesn't tease him past the point of oversensitivity yet.... but it'd be rude to leave too much of a mess behind.

Even if there is just a bit of cum dripping from the side of his mouth when he can finally turn his head up towards Talcott, their foreheads pressing against one another. "There we go," he hums, reaching to gently stroke Talcott's face. "Better than what you used to imagine, when you thought of me?"

Give him some credit Ignis. He tried really hard not to actually do anything of the sort when Ignis was with him. Far more often he was off in the middle of nowhere, just him and his truck in the midst of so much darkness. When there was no one around to hear him gasping and crying out. Probably for the best considering how loud he is now. It is, perhaps, something to consider working on deterring. Just for the sake of those around them. Then again there are few enough people that would be bothered by people taking what fleeting opportunities they have to enjoy themselves or each other.

That he doesn't need to hold Ignis close, that his boyfriend stays right there, swallowing around him, lips and throat milking him through the most intense orgasm of his life makes it all the sweeter. Shaking fingers skim lightly over his hair, down to pet his cheek, enamored with the sight of him so content even with his mouth full. His vision swims for a moment as Ignis draws back, gentle though he is it's still so much for his nerves when he feels as though every tiny shift is a fresh jolt of electricity through him.

A shaky laugh escapes him with the question that follows, words still too blurred in his mind to form anything coherent. So he just nods slightly, using the motion to nuzzle against the other man, noses bumping lightly together. When he can finally blink away the dampness clinging to his lashes and really look at Ignis there's almost immediately another groan. Something low and appreciative as Tal brings his other hand up as well.

One lays against the side of his neck, thumb pressing lightly under the curve of his jaw to coax him into tilting his head back a little further. The other stays at his cheek, though he guides Ignis into turning his head just a little bit. For a moment he just watches one stray drop of his own cum sliding down from Ignis' mouth, stilling briefly before curling around his jaw to begin down his throat. Which is precisely when Talcott breaks that mesmerizing moment to duck down a little further, pressing the flat of his tongue over one of the bruises he'd made on Ignis' pale skin. Then he's following the path back up, lapping away any lingering evidence from Ignis' face until he reaches the other's mouth and kisses him as deeply as he can.

If there's anything odd or off-putting about kissing the man when he still tastes like cum Talcott sure as hell isn't aware of it, determined to devour him in that moment. Even if he does gradually start to lean back, tugging gently to encourage Ignis into rising up from his knees and following him back onto the bed.

Not accounting for the state of his eyes - how they surely must be eerily discolored, how they can no longer focus on people, the scarring that may or may not be properly healed - Ignis is well aware that he makes for a pleasant sight. The line of marks about his arched throat when Talcott gently encourages his head back. How pink his lips must be after everything.

The single trail of cum rolling down his skin.

There's a pleasant ache all around his neck from the work he's put his throat to, swallowing down his love's cock as he did, and it stings just a little nicer when that clever tongue drags up against them. Enough to pull out a soft moan of Ignis's own, one muffled soon enough with that kiss.

"I'm with you," he murmurs, following the coaxing motion even as it makes his own arousal strain in his pants, the movement making him rub up against cloth. Still so restrained, and his own self satisfaction, the sounds Talcott made - they've only made him more sensitive for now. Still, he's not the impatient sort, and content with going in for another kiss. He hadn't expected Talcott to be so fine with kissing him in the aftermath like that... But the world has rather made them all a little more used to filth in some areas, and, well. He's always been the impulsive sort, hasn't he?

Ignis' eyes used to be a pure, vibrant green. Just the sort of color Talcott had envied, his own hazel eyes only slanting towards green in just the right lighting if he was wearing just the right colors. He'd favored red as a child because Iris did as well and he liked to think it brought out the gold in his eyes, made him look the part of their little brother a bit more.

While Ignis seems to think they must be unsettling now Talcott finds them no less beautiful, dulled slightly in their intensity like crystal tumbled in the salt and sand of the sea, worn to a smooth frosted finish. The sort of thing that hides their beauty in some ways. Highlights it in others. He never flinches away or turns from that unseeing gaze and, if Ignis were to really think on it, the small sound Talcott makes to acknowledge when Ignis has correctly identified his position on sound alone is very much the same one that comes when he smiles. Pleased to have Ignis' attention in whatever form it takes.

So far as he's concerned Ignis is just as beautiful now as he had been the day the met and every day after.

Which may be a factor in why it never even crossed his mind that he wouldn't want to kiss Ignis as soon as he had the breath to, the odd taste on his lips barely noted beyond his joy at being able to kiss him, the way their mouths fit together so smoothly now, the feel of his boyfriend's face in his hands. Impulsive, perhaps, but given the state of the world the idea that something like that would even be considered filthy was never introduced to him. Especially not when Ignis moans so sweetly into his mouth and as soon as Talcott is certain the other has at least one knee under him on the mattress Tal lets his hand go back to drifting over his body.

He does try at least to caress every inch of bared skin before his hands move down, try not to rush too much, not to immediately drop his hands to Ignis' belt. It's... debatable how successful he really is at it. Before long he has one hand sliding down the other man's front, feeling the stretch of fabric there, the heat of him through his pants. The exploratory touches only last a moment, though, before his fingers are focused on the task of unfastening his belt, his trousers, pushing the whole mess down as much as he can reach to be able to grab at his hip, dance his fingers over his lover's arousal.

Marvel at the fact that it's for him.

It's a light touch, Ignis knows, but it's a touch that he's been bereft of this entire time. Just to feel that much has him break the kiss with his breath catching. "Mm - there we are," he murmurs, before he's leaning in again. It's a bit of a multitask, he knows, but Talcott has clearly done so well already. He's hardly worried about that at all.

Just keeping his own hips still, patiently waiting to see how the other handles him... That's all he needs to do, as he enjoys the comfortable pace of their kiss.

Talcott chuckles softly against Ignis' lips, a lopsided giddy little smile tugging at them. "Mmmhmm there you are." Muttered softly, teasing, as he lets his touches become a little bolder. This, at least, is something he's fairly familiar with. Fingers curl around Ignis' length, a gentle stroke then another firmer one.

And then, rather abruptly, he pulls his hand away. Before Ignis can really protest it much though Talcott is pushing up against him, trying to encourage him to roll onto his back so Talcott can hover over him this time. "Not fair you're still wearing clothes." Grumbled against his lips, his neck, Tal's mouth steadily drifting down even as he tugs at Ignis' clothes. There's not that much left for him to take off but unlike the heavy cargo pants Talcott tends to wear Ignis' pants are fitted and trim and require a little more effort to remove.

There's a triumphant little huff when he finally manages it and Ignis will have to make him go find those later too because they are very much getting tossed unceremoniously off the end of the bed so that Talcott can crawl back up over him. Lips skimming over him in a line of featherlight kisses from knee to hip to the center of his chest. Before he moves up enough to claim his mouth again, though, his fingers return to their previous position with a slow, gentle squeeze. "Iggy... What do you want me to do?"

He has no trouble reciprocating the same but he knows quite well that he's going to be messy and uncoordinated about it so if there's something else Ignis would like him to do he's.... definitely open to suggestions.

Not just the pants, but shoes as well - although at least those are a lot easier to slip off and let drop to the side without any consideration for them. (Not that the shirt is getting any consideration either.) In Lestallum, Ignis prefers to wear those old dress shoes when he can, and spare his boots for all the journeying outside. Split the longevity between them. A little habit that's quite useful, as it turns out, for situations like this.

Which is more than can be said for the way that Ignis laughs - first at Talcott pushily switching their positions, and again when he makes his complaint. "I should have worn more," he says, hands greedily skimming over Talcott's shoulders while his pants are fussily removed. "Something proper for a first date."

In other words, something to antagonize Talcott just a little more.

But then those shoulders shift against his palms, those kisses rise, and Ignis shifts his fingers to slide against Talcott's hair again. "What wouldn't I wish for you to do," Ignis says, lips close enough for them to be felt as he speaks. Those fingers are so lovely, as they glide against his cock, although they're a tease just as much with how aroused he is. But more.... He wouldn't object to that at all.

"Have you ever done fellatio, before?"

"Absolutely not." Tal chimes in immediately, nibbling lightly at Ignis' stomach. Not a scold exactly but something close enough. No, actually. He should very much not have been wearing more.

"Anything." He murmurs against the other's skin, trailing kisses, hand stroking oh so slowly over his cock. Anything Ignis asks of him he would do without question or hesitation. That he asks that question at all only makes Talcott shake his head, laughing softly, nuzzling against Ignis' belly to make sure he feels the gesture and the scalding heat of his face.

"Iggy. I hadn't kissed anyone until 2 weeks ago." Well. A little more than 2 weeks but he's rounding down to make his point. Of course he hasn't. Hells, the only reason he knows that word, not just the far more crass "blowjob" is because- well there'd been a book Gladio had found in some library along the way and he, as he does, read the entire thing cover to cover.

But that question certainly answers his own and Talcott slowly adjusts himself to drape over Ignis' legs, kissing at his hip, his stomach, the light trail of hair leading down. He's nothing if not observant so, even though he was incredibly distracted at the time he does his best to mimic what Ignis had done to him. Wet, open-mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, certainly messier than Ignis but the intent is there, at least. He hums softly, getting used to the feel of that heated flesh against his lips, doing his best not to let his teeth too close but there's inevitably going to be a bit of too-firm pressure here or there, no matter how careful he tries to be.

"I would never be so presumptuous as to what you have or have not done." But he's only teasing, really. Nothing truly so important as to focus on, not when there's Tal's sweet warmth and gentle kisses all along his body. Ignis luxuriates in the sensation, one hand reaching back to dig into the feeling of sheets and the pillow, once he's fumbled about enough.

His other hand goes quite the opposite way, brushing over Talcott's hair with only a slight tremble as pleasure is finally released just a little bit with every one of those hot kisses. Indeed, they're clumsy. Indeed, sometimes the pressure is just a little too much. Fortunately for Talcott, however... Too much is one of those things that Ignis sometimes wants. Needs, perhaps, in some cases. So he doesn't mind as much as he perhaps could, soft little approving sounds of pleasure falling from his lips while he pets him.

"Careful, now... Mm... Experiment all you like, Talcott. See if you can find all the ways to make me cry out your name..."

Well. Maybe not just sounds of pleasure. Maybe a little bit of goading to pull at the competitive nature he knows hides in his boyfriend.

The way Ignis says the word makes the teasing clear enough that he gets a light little pinch in retaliation. That's the only retaliation though because then Talcott's mouth is busy and he finds he is quite enjoying himself. Especially once Ignis' fingers are in his hair and he has those soft sounds to guide him.

He closes his eyes, lets his mouth lead him over every bit of Ignis he can taste, root to tip and back down again. He quickly becomes more aware of when he slips up, when his teeth touch too much and when that little bit of a firmer edge is appreciated. Each sound from Ignis, no matter how small helps him form a mental map of the other man. One of Talcott's hands ends up splayed low on Iggy's belly, feeling each shift and twitch in the muscles there, the other on his thigh, memorizing what gets the strongest reactions, what makes him relax.

The encouragement to experiment isn't needed and Tal knows it's an attempt at goading him but like this he feels absolutely no urge to rise to that challenge. Not yet anyway. It had been one thing when Ignis was refusing to respond to him but now those response come and he wants to learn everything he can before he tries to make it a challenge. Best to go into it well prepared after all.

Which means his mouth might wander a little more than Ignis expects, out to each side, following the crease of his thigh, out to scrape his teeth over the hard line of his hip. Back to center again and down, first the drag of his tongue, then more wet, messy kisses, then drawing one of his lover's balls into his mouth fully. Rolling the flesh on his tongue before doing the same to the other, oh so gently sucking to draw away from his body by mere fractions. He even presses further down against the bed to nudge his sac out of his way so he can lave his tongue over the delicate skin just behind.

By the time he's been quite thorough in his explorations and moves back up he does so with more surety, more confidence. Fingers wrap around the base of him and the moment Talcott's tongue reaches his tip he once again mimics Ignis. Finally taking his cock into the wet heat of his mouth. It only lasts for a fraction of a moment, however, before Tal is forced to jerk back, coughing and trying not to gag.

"You made it look so easy." Grumbled under his breath, cheeks heating with embarrassment. Sure he hadn't expected to get as much into his mouth as Ignis, his boyfriend had way more experience after all and he's certain Gladio has to be bigger than him. But it still feels like what Talcott is able to take is... disappointingly little.

It's incredible how much easier things go, isn't it, when Ignis doesn't decide to play stubborn. There's no biting back the sounds he makes, or throttling them deep in his throat before they have a chance to grow strong. This time... he's a lot more generous, even if it's not in his nature to be nearly as vocal as Talcott was.

A soft sigh to meet those soft kisses all along his thigh. The difference between an appreciative hiss when there's a sting of pain along his hip from teeth, and the silence which falls where it's just a little too close or perhaps not close enough.

Low moans for the suction along the sensitive bundle of flesh beneath his cock, and then how it rolls all the higher for that sensitive skin even further down.

....And of course, a low breathless laugh at all that sputtering.

"Well, I've had years of experience," he points out, grunting just a little bit as he pushes himself up onto his shoulders, fingers easing up from where they'd twitched and tightened in Talcott's hair a few times. "Mm... Even a small length is more than you'd think. The mouth truly isn't that large... especially when you start reaching the back." An idle pet. "Only a few inches. Meanwhile, the average length is more around five."

Why does he know that? Because he does. Next question.

"Perhaps I was a bit mean, taking you in so easily like that. Now I've gone and given you high standards, hm? I should have gone with my other plan."

The fingers in his hair soothe the sting that comes with that laugh. It's not mean, he knows that of course. But any time Talcott goes into something where his inexperience (and therefore age) causes him to stumble he's always a little bit huffy about it. At least until he doubles down to practice and research until he's mastered it in an absurdly short period of time..... something for poor Ignis to keep in mind for the coming week or two, certainly.

The fact that Ignis knows the average measurements offhand? Doesn't surprise him in the slightest. In fact it makes him a little more reassured. Whether he means it to or not there's the implication in those idle facts that Ignis was once in his exact position. Had to do the same research he's likely to go dive into before they leave the city.

Talcott huffs, a sound that conveys the little bit of sulkiness that accompanies his well, it's unfair to say failure exactly but... mistake.

Sulkiness that he muffles by laying himself back over Ignis' lap, mouthing at his cock once more, even if he doesn't quite try to take him into his mouth again yet. Maybe... well maybe part of it is just to see if he can at least force Ignis' far too coherent words to stumble. Just something to return the bit of confidence his exploration had offered.

"Like I wouldn't have high standards anyway?" Followed by a punishing little bite at Ignis' hip, teeth firm where the bone comes so close to the skin. Only a little harder than what had gotten a positive response on the other side. "You had other plans?" A curious lilt to his tone, the sort of thing it's easy to imagine would match a mischievous spark in hazel eyes.

Curiosity is, as always, the best way to redirect Talcott. But the idea that Ignis might have had thoughts of what to do with him in the time between that stupidly rushed confession and when they had time and space enough to do something about it makes him shiver slightly. What plans might Ignis have had? Other than taunting him with all the ways the reality would beat out every fantasy he's ever had.

However he choses to answer, though, he's going to have to do so with Talcott's mouth busily kissing along his shaft and moving back up to at least take the tip into his mouth to play with.

It's exactly because Ignis knows that Talcott can bounce up to his feet again and get right back at him that he feels so comfortable being able to laugh like that. And isn't he proven right almost immediately? With those hot eager lips teasing at him, each hot gust of breath pulling at his hips. Fortunate, really, that Talcott has given up on taking him fully into his mouth. Otherwise...

Well, otherwise, he wouldn't even have this much freedom to move, or else he'd be worried on choking his poor boyfriend.

"Ha, I-" And his voice catches there, in time with that sharp nip to his skin, lilting just a little higher, before he recovers. "Mm, I suppose you would have. Curious and proud... is quite a combination, I have to say." He scrapes his fingers along Talcott's scalp, an encouragement all its own. After all, he's certainly not stopping him.

Especially not when he gets right back to work all over again, refining his technique even as Ignis can feel him there, mouth moving along the heat of him and then swallowing him up completely. His eyelashes flutter for a moment, more sensation than anything else because they can't be anything else, and he loosens up the restrictions on his throat. Lets slip a soft moan, thigh tensing as he braces a foot against the bed. "Mmmm, that's right... I wanted to put in so much thought for you... A proper showing of how much I adore you, Talcott..."

The light scrape of fingers through his hair makes Tal moan around Ignis, lips pulled carefully tight around the head of his cock while he savors that sensation. Then he has to pant out a few hard breaths through his nose before refocusing on his task. A task that he is so very eager for when he can hear the quiet sounds from his lover, the breathy pauses in his words, feel the way his body tenses with the urge to push for more.

With Ignis' leg bent so he can push against the bed while he moves Tal leans his face gently against the inside of his thigh. Slowly he draws Ignis out of his mouth, fingers curling around the base of him and stroking gently, spreading saliva over his shaft while Tal kisses at his thigh. "Yeah?" A smirk hidden against his skin. "Just how did you want to show me?"

One more kiss, then another long lick up the length of him, the tip of his tongue worming between the grip of his fingers to tease at the other man. "Tell me?" The last question is a little softer, a bit more gentle. He wants to know, of course, but he also doesn't want to push Ignis into talking about something if he doesn't want to. Maybe even isn't able to with how Talcott carries on, gradually starting to adjust his grip so he can find a good place where he can bring his lips down to meet his fingers.

Oh, that moan reverberates through him in all the best way, rattles the pleasure throughout his skull and sends all his coherent thought scattering. His toes dig into the sheets just like how his fingers desperately grasp into the pillow in the opposite direction, following the strength of his moan.

He need that minute, with Talcott kissing and smirking against his skin, to pull it all back together nice and orderly - which he's sure that Talcott will no doubt store away inside that steel trap mind of his. It's a touch tricky, with how that wet hot tongue of his still works at him, but Ignis is nothing if not a man of composure. It's dragged back soon enough with a soft sigh, his fingers easing up enough to stroke through Talcott's hair.

"A few ideas... here and there. Some more idle daydreams than anything." A breathy laugh, another deep sigh tapering into a moan as Talcott slowly becomes more confident in what he can take. "Like surprising you... with a tease of lingerie."

That would never happen in this economy state of the world, of course, but still. It had been an amusing thing to think about. But more seriously....

"I would think about relaxing you with my hand... after a hard day of all the work you do. Following that with my mouth... Or - mmm - doing what Gladio has done for me, massaging your sore muscles and following it up with something even nicer..."