It's a while before it happens again. He's lost all of his button-up shirts to the elements at this point. Noctis used one to wipe up ectoplasm from a Flan, and Prompto's chocobo hurled on another after eating some mysterious greens. Only his grey undershirts are left of his wardrobe, and it pulls at his scar every time he has to reach his arm up to put on the damn thing.
Noctis stops staring at his chest as if doing so will make his own chest grow. Instead he's taken to glaring at Gladio's forehead. A lesser man would grow self-conscious, but it's only starting to piss Gladio off.
“Is there something on my face Noct?” spinning around to face his prince. Gladio kicks the dead goblin. “Or am I so handsome you have to stare instead of fighting, like you're supposed to.”
Noctis twitches as if guilty. “I was thinking about Aranea.” he scoffs airily, dispassionate, “and how much easier it was to have her around. Didn't even have to pull out my sword.”
Gladio knows he's lying. Knows from Ignis and Prompto's account of the Steyliff Grove Dungeon. Aranea was deadly and efficient – good to have on your side, but hardly accustomed to the dynamics of the trio she was traveling with. Prompto had described in animated hand gestures how they had nearly skewered each other when Aranea leapt and lanced on the same enemy Noctis had warped to.
“Yes it's too bad she's not here to skewer you again, or is that something you like?” Gladio doesn't want to rise up to the bait. Because he knows Noctis is baiting him to react. He doesn't voice the roughness in his chest like tar oozing down his throat, scraping raw on its way down. A lesser man responds with insecurity, but Gladio is all about offense being the best defense. “You're hardly old enough for her tastes, Princess.”
Gladio can almost see the hackles rising on Noctis' back. “At least she was here.” Noctis spat quietly. So quiet he almost loses it in the echoes of the cavern. Noctis turns to face another pack of goblins before he could properly digest the meaning of that.
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: Gladio/Noctis, Doesn't Bother Me Anyways 2/?
Date: 2016-12-28 12:28 am (UTC)Noctis stops staring at his chest as if doing so will make his own chest grow. Instead he's taken to glaring at Gladio's forehead. A lesser man would grow self-conscious, but it's only starting to piss Gladio off.
“Is there something on my face Noct?” spinning around to face his prince. Gladio kicks the dead goblin. “Or am I so handsome you have to stare instead of fighting, like you're supposed to.”
Noctis twitches as if guilty. “I was thinking about Aranea.” he scoffs airily, dispassionate, “and how much easier it was to have her around. Didn't even have to pull out my sword.”
Gladio knows he's lying. Knows from Ignis and Prompto's account of the Steyliff Grove Dungeon. Aranea was deadly and efficient – good to have on your side, but hardly accustomed to the dynamics of the trio she was traveling with. Prompto had described in animated hand gestures how they had nearly skewered each other when Aranea leapt and lanced on the same enemy Noctis had warped to.
“Yes it's too bad she's not here to skewer you again, or is that something you like?” Gladio doesn't want to rise up to the bait. Because he knows Noctis is baiting him to react. He doesn't voice the roughness in his chest like tar oozing down his throat, scraping raw on its way down. A lesser man responds with insecurity, but Gladio is all about offense being the best defense. “You're hardly old enough for her tastes, Princess.”
Gladio can almost see the hackles rising on Noctis' back. “At least she was here.” Noctis spat quietly. So quiet he almost loses it in the echoes of the cavern. Noctis turns to face another pack of goblins before he could properly digest the meaning of that.