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“Noct?”
Noctis breathes in so sharply it makes him flinch. Prompto’s hand vanishes from his shoulder, and blue eyes crack open with leaden speed to gaze up at the blond. They’re heavy with sleep, and the edges of his form are hazy.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Prompto cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. “Are you okay?” He sounds unreasonably concerned for it being this early in the morning. Noctis can’t fathom why, but his brain also isn’t online yet, and he’s still working through convincing his facilities he’s alive.
“I- Yeah,” he mumbles, jerking his chin up and down once in a stiff movement. His muscles are groaning with protest as he pushes himself upright, sleep weakened and shaky.
Prompto is wearing a frown and a loose tank top that draws his attention to the exposed lines of his collarbones. He’s seated on the edge of Noctis’ cot, gaze tracking him, and when he manages to sit up fully, his eyes examine the whole length of him.
“You sure?” he doubts, and Noct’s lips press into a frown as he scrubs at the drowsiness in his eyes. He’s got all his limbs and they’re not under attack, so why is he so worried?
Slightly more awake, Noctis assesses. He feels uncomfortably hot. There’s sweat all along his back and sticking to his forehead, and his brain is throbbing dully deep inside his skull like the headaches he gets from sleeping too long. His throat feels thick, and when he cups his palm around the side of it, he can feel a spongy lump under his skin at the base of his jaw.
A sigh huffs out of him, and his chest shudders with the deep exhale. There is wet, sticky heat pooled in his core too, and as Noctis wakes fully, he becomes aware of the sensation of dampness in his underwear. He is definitely more than just sweaty.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs, massaging his fingers into the tender mass in his throat. It aches already.
Prompto doesn't look convinced in the slightest by his flat response. His open palm pets down the length of Noct’s spine, and chills race to follow it. The Crown Prince groans, and it takes everything in him not to sink back into the comfort of his blanket. He’s awake now. He might as well stay awake, even if he feels a bit like shit.
Noctis lifts his chin, and their eyes meet across the scant space between them. Prompto is searching his whole face for reassurance, and Noctis presses his mouth together in a pinched smile.
“Preheat,” he explains, hushed and voiced within a single exhale. Prompto wasn’t created with a secondary, he can’t smell it on him like the other two can, and recognition clicks in his expression at the statement as palpable relief floods him. His eyes scan over Noctis again, and then his hands follow the look as he smooths his fingers up and down his back. “Feels worse than usual.”
An understanding hum rumbles in his throat. Prompto’s weight tips into his side as he leans against Noctis, and he winds an arm around his waist and squeezes hard enough that it pushes a strangled sound from his chest. His body is warm, and it’s bordering the edge of what’s comfortable with the heat brewing under his own skin.
“It’s been a while since you had one,” he murmurs. The ends of his hair tickle where they brush against the side of Noct’s neck, and goosebumps break out over his skin at the prickly sensation. He leans his head to the side to rest against the top of Prompto’s, and he shuts his eyes with the hope it’ll dull his worsening headache.
Noctis doesn't reply. Prompto’s digits trace over the side seam of his shirt, slowly like he’s trying to be soothing. Mostly, it’s just distracting, which isn’t bad either.
“The other two know?” he asks, and Noctis hums his affirmative, nose buried in blond hair. They smelled it on him before he picked it up in himself, probably. They’ve been attuned to his scent since he presented. They know the nuances of it better than he does.
It hits fully two days later. He’s in the midst of reeling in a massive fish when he suddenly feels hot, and Noctis shudders out an exhale that rocks his whole frame. His gut feels tight and crampy, and saliva pools on his tongue as he blinks heavily. He needs to get back to camp.
They’re in the middle of nowhere. This close to Gralea, it’s too risky to hole up at an outpost for long. Riding out his heat at camp is the safest option, even if it won't be quite as comfortable as he’d prefer. They’re the only people around for miles, at least. The only things that’ll hear him wail are the trees. That, and whatever daemons spawn around the haven.
“Noct!” His thighs feel shaky by the time he gets back to their site. The fish in his bag feel exaggerated in their weight, his body is suddenly so weak, and Gladio swipes it out of his hand to whisk it away. His rough fingertips brush over the inside of his wrist, and Noctis chokes on the low sound that jumps out of him at the meager contact.
“Come along,” Ignis croons. His hand is warm and sure at the small of his back, and he presses it in to guide the Prince forward towards the tent. His steps are slow and measured, each stride cautious. It’s about as fast as he can manage nowadays, but it suits Noctis’ unsteady legs just fine.
Prompto’s inside already. He’s sitting cross legged at the foot of the cots on his phone, and his head jerks up when they stumble inside. His lips part on a breathy ‘oh’, and he slips the device into his pocket hastily.
It smells like alpha in here, all their bedding reeks, and Noctis’ mouth drops open to breathe it in along his tastebuds. His jaw is aching, and his stomach is beginning to feel like it’s turning itself in knots. More than anything, he feels empty.
They don’t speak much as he crawls onto the cots. There’s an extra mat rolled out in the center for added cushioning, they’re going to be spending an unusual amount of time in bed, and Noctis’ knees sink into it as he situates himself atop it. There’s a fluffy pillow at the head that he buries his face into, and the scent of them all floods his senses as he fills his lungs.
“I was wondering when it’d finally hit him,” Gladio murmurs from somewhere behind him, and the low rumble of his voice makes Noctis shudder. Ignis says something in return, but Prompto’s fingers are carding through the back of his hair and petting it away from his face, and Noctis can’t focus enough on anything else to hear them.
The whisper of shifting fabric fills the space in the tent. Three sets of hands ease him out of his clothes, and Noctis hisses as the cool air kisses his heated flesh. He feels so feverish, but there’s goosebumps lining his skin, and his whole body trembles like he’s shivering. This part is always so terrible, made worse by the cramping in his gut and the thickness in his throat. He wants to crawl out of his flesh or dunk himself in the frigid rivers of Ghorovas Rift.
“Whaddya need, Noct?” Prompto’s hands are all over him, in his hair, the back of his neck, brushing over the shells of his ears, but it’s not enough. It isn’t close enough. With shaky arms, Noctis pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, angling his chin up as he gazes up at him with his breath puffing between his lips.
“Kiss me,” he whispers, barely audible, and without a moment of hesitation, Prompto’s mouth meets his. It’s slow and devouring and full of teeth and tongue and wandering hands. Prompto kisses him like he’s taking him apart, and it stokes the fire of need burning in his belly.
A moan chokes out of him between their joined mouths, but it’s swallowed up before it can take life fully. There are rough fingertips petting through the slick mess on his cunt, and Noctis’ pelvis shoves back instinctively to get them inside him. The angle’s wrong though, they just stroke over the rim of his entrance, and Gladiolus chuckles from the base of his chest as Noctis pulls away to whine.
“Something you want, Princess?” His lips are parted and kiss swollen, cheeks red, and he twists his shoulders so he can glare at Gladio over the length of his back. He’s on his knees behind him, and Noctis’ whole body jolts as his free hand comes up to cup around his hip like he’s ready to mount him. He’s still in his clothes, broad chest bared, muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moves. Noctis suddenly hates leather pants.
“Gladio.” His name comes out in a gasp as he sinks his middle finger inside up to the first knuckle. His cunt bears down urgently around the digit, but it’s so minuscule compared to what his body wants that it feels like nothing. Noctis’ throat constricts with a whine, and he plants his palms flat against the ground to give himself the leverage he needs to push back into it. Slowly, it slides into him further, and Noctis lets out a deep exhale as Gladio crooks it to stroke against his walls.
“So needy,” he purrs. Noctis usually is, and it’s only made worse by his heat, but Gladio’s a fucking liar if he tries to deny he likes it. His hand twists to rut his knuckle into his walls, and Noctis jumps as he rubs his thumb over the hard line of his clit. It makes his whole body jerk, and he gasps out a moan as the base of his dick throbs in time with his heartbeat.
“G-Gladio.” It’s harder to get out this time. Another finger joins the first, and Noctis ruts into them with all the force he can manage as his muscles clamp down around them. “Come on,” he encourages, the words breaking in the middle on a low groan as he spreads his fingers apart to stretch him open.
Expectedly, he takes his time opening Noctis up. Prompto cradles his head in his lap and pets his hair as Noctis shakes apart, and Gladio feeds him three fingers and then stuffs his thumb into his ass while using the slick mess he’s producing to lubricate the way. With rumbling, pleased encouragement, he pinches his fingers and thumb together inside Noctis and rubs into the thin wall that separates his holes. The deep pressure punches the air from his chest, and his hands curl desperately into the loose pants Prompto is wearing. With a choked yell, his first orgasm washes over him, and Noctis buries his face into Prompto’s thigh and clings to him as his muscles milk Gladio’s knuckles.
He isn’t given any time to recover. Gladio’s fingers slip out of him, and Noctis heaves as he blinks back to life. The clanking of metal pricks his ears, and then there are twin hands curled around his hips to angle his pelvis up. The blunt head of Gladio’s cock bumps along his cunt, and Noctis groans as he presses it into him in one long motion.
There’s blood rushing in his ears. Gladio’s broad hand is petting over his stomach, and Noctis can hear the far away sound of his praise as his body adjusts to the feeling of fullness. Prompto’s got his fingers in his hair and is cradling his head in his lap like it’s precious, and he’s saying something too. Something is missing, though. There’s something wrong, something missing, and his scent flares with distress as he comes back into his body.
“Ig-” Noctis starts, but before he can get his name out fully, he’s there. His familiar hand smooths up the length of his spine and cups around the nape of his neck, thumb grazing over the tender scent gland in his throat. Like flipping a switch, relief floods through him, and Noctis blinks his eyes open to gaze up at him. Somehow, he’s looking right back into them.
“I’m here,” he promises, voice smooth and steady. Noctis nuzzles into the strong thigh he’s got his face pressed into, and Ignis’ hand squeezes reassuringly around the back of his neck. “Just relax and let Gladiolus take care of you.”
With three sets of hands on him, Noctis’ senses are on overload before he even begins thrusting. His cock drags out slowly before he hilts it inside again, and Noctis’ voice spills from him as fingers pinch at his nipples and rub along his dick. He’s so sensitive, and he’s hard enough that he can feel the throbbing of the blood pooled in the length of his clit. Despite cumming just minutes ago, he needs it again. The full intensity of his heat has yet to set in, but he already feels like his nerves are on fire from the need in his belly.
“I-” he starts, his voice catching as Gladio snaps his hips forward. It’s hard enough to make his knees slip, but Prompto’s body blocks him from sliding far. “Gl- Gladio, please. I wanna-”
He can’t think well enough to get his words out straight, but it doesn’t matter. They all know what he needs, know how to play his body like a well tuned instrument, and Noctis trembles through another orgasm as Ignis strokes his clit over the hood and Prompto drags his nails over the scarred bites on his scent gland.
“What do you think, Princess?” Gladio’s speaking through his teeth. His hands are curled tightly around his pelvis, and he groans as he grinds his cock into him as deep as it can get. He’s so big, and Noctis bears down around him as he pants through his mouth like an animal in distress. His thighs are trembling so badly, and without Gladio’s strength holding up his lower half, he doubts he’d be able to stay up on his knees much longer. “You ready for my knot?”
The question explodes through him. Noctis chokes on the intensity of his cry, and he shoves himself backwards into the pressure of the body behind him. His cunt squeezes around him desperately, and he can hear the wet sound of his slick pussy as Gladio fucks into him with a rhythm that’s quickly growing inconsistent.
“Yes!” Noctis wails urgently, hands scrabbling for purchase in the cot beneath him. Prompto wheezes out an exhale that sounds both entertained and aroused, and Ignis rubs his palms up and down his side and back with measured pressure. “Yes, come on, give it to me.”
With a deep, rumbling groan, Gladio yanks his pelvis back into his own. The girth of his knot shoves past his entrance, and Noctis yowls as it impales him. The angle is divine, and the world blurs from the intensity of his pleasure as Gladio grinds against his ass. He’s so close, it’s so good, and when his Shield’s hips jerk violently and heat floods into his core, Noctis catapults over the edge with him.
There’s a firm lump beneath his cheek. Noctis becomes aware of it as the buzzing of his orgasm fades, and he hums as he rubs his face into it. Prompto’s legs twitch, and his fingers twist into the back of his hair. The blond hisses out an exhale through his teeth, and Noctis nuzzles into the grip.
“Later,” he assures, but his hips jump as the Prince opens his mouth over the thick bulge of his cock, lathing his tongue along the length of it through his clothes. There’s anticipatory saliva pooling on his tastebuds, and Noctis huffs in the scent of him through his nose as Gladio’s hips shift against him. His cunt flutters around his knot, and they both moan as his dick throbs in answer, pumping him fuller. “I can’t cum as much as you guys. Wanna wait.”
It feels like forever before his knot deflates. Time passes syrupy slow as Ignis and Prompto kiss above him, and Gladio bends double to rest his cheek against his shoulder blade and press his lips against Noct’s flesh. He manages another orgasm just from squeezing rhythmically around Gladio’s length, and he pants hot breath into the bend of Prompto’s knee as his Shield croons praise against his skin.
Sticky cum floods out of him in a rush as his cock suddenly slips out, and Noctis quivers at the empty feeling that overtakes him. Somebody’s fingers are there right away, maybe Ignis’, he can’t be sure, but it’s not enough to satisfy the craving in his gut when they press inside and spread apart. A whine vibrates through his vocal cords, and Noctis buries his face into Prompto’s leg.
“Not done yet, huh?” Gladio sounds amused, and his open palm slaps his ass with a loud smack. Noctis’ whole body lurches, his shocked cry muffled into Prompto’s thigh, and Gladio brings his hand down again on the opposite flank. The sharp sting ignites excitement in the pit of his stomach, but it doesn’t hurt like he wants it to. “You need more?”
His nod is frantic and immediate. He feels greedy, but his cunt is begging to be filled, and he clenches rhythmically around the digits inside him like he’s trying to convince their owner he’s worth more.
“Please,” Noctis breathes, summoning all his strength to slant his eyes open and twist his head. Ignis can't see him, but he pins his gaze to his Chamberlain’s unreadable expression, pleading with the tilt of his brows. “Iggy, I need you.”
It may as well have been a command for how swiftly he moves. Ignis takes action at once, and Gladiolus clambers out from behind him to sit beside Prompto and clear the space between his legs. They move like a well oiled machine together, smooth and fluid and responsive to his every demand, trained to obey their Prince.
Gentle hands manipulate him into rolling over. Ignis has always been like this, always preferred to be face to face where he can snatch away Noctis’ breath through claiming kisses and drown him in attention. The clawing need to see him dies in the air between them, unspoken but understood. With a pang in his chest, Noctis extends his fingers to loop them around his wrist, guiding his hand up until he can lay Ignis’ fingers along the side of his face.
Noct’s lips brush softly over the inside of his forearm where his pulse beats steadily under his skin. Ignis’ thumb rubs softly over his cheekbone, his jaw tight with pain he cannot voice, and Noctis squeezes his knees around him.
“Come on, Specs,” he whispers, stretching his arms up to wind them both around his neck. Noctis draws him in close and presses a soft kiss against his mouth, and Ignis melts against his body as the tension in him dissipates.
Between shared kisses and whispered praise, Ignis presses inside of him. He’s already stretched out from taking Gladio’s thick knot, but Ignis’ cock hits deep inside him in a way that snatches his breath from his lungs. He’ll never get used to the differences between them all.
“Are you alright?” Ignis inquires, head bowed so he can speak against Noctis’ mating bite, voice smooth. They’re both trembling, and Ignis’ hips don’t pause until he’s hilted fully inside. It’s hard to focus on anything but the sensation, but Noctis manages a nod, huffing the scent of spices and fire clinging to his blonde hair and the heady pheromones seeping from him.
“Yeah,” he answers, legs looping around his waist to keep him close. It changes the angle of penetration, and when Ignis grinds into him, the pressure against the upper wall of his cunt makes his vision blur. “I’m fine, please.”
Ignis needs no further convincing. He draws his pelvis forward and back in slow, deep strokes, and Noctis arches like a bow and clamps down around him. His nails claw over his strong back, and Ignis grips onto his waist with a hold Noctis can feel in his bones. He’s going to ache all over when they’re done with this. He couldn't be more pleased.
He can’t hold his voice in. He’s much louder than he should be for being in a fucking tent, but he just can’t help himself. With his head thrown back into the pillow and his eyes locked on the man above him, he moans openly, one hand snaking between them to rub frantically over the hard line of his clit. It jumps beneath his touch, and Ignis groans as his muscles twitch around him.
“Noct,” he grunts, hips snapping forward with a burst of force. It jolts his whole body forward, and his shoulder knocks into Prompto’s on his left who’s working Gladio over with his fist, lying on his back with the alpha knelt between his legs. He tips his head to the side to toss Noctis a toothy smirk, and his heart swells. He’d kiss him if he could, but he’s too far.
One hand smooths down the outside of his thigh. Noctis feels like his skin is tingling in every spot they make contact, and he shudders as Ignis captures his knee. Pressing it up towards his chest is a slow and cautious affair, and Noctis claws down his arms with a desperate shout as he drags the beginnings of his knot in and out of him.
“Ignis,” he heaves, his fingers slipping in the wet mess between his legs as he gets himself off. He’s barreling towards another orgasm so quickly his brain feels like it’s being left behind, and with the thickening scent of alpha inside their tent, his tongue feels clumsy. “Ignis, I need-”
His knot pops. Noctis yowls, his back arches off the cot in a dramatic bend, and Ignis presses forward until the thick swell is seated deep inside him. There’s nowhere else for him to go, no space to move but in, and his knot grows bigger and bigger until it’s taken up all the room in his cunt and his mind.
“You take me so well, Your Highness.” Noctis can barely hear his voice in his ear with how loud his heartbeat roars. His lips brush over the shell as he speaks, and his whole body shakes. “Almost like you were made for me.”
Ignis’ voice is a low purr, and it’s driving him up the fucking wall. His senses are all on overdrive, and he’s teetering on the precipice of another orgasm. He needs more, just a little, so he can finally cum. His brain is screaming with need, his want so great it’s tearing him apart at the seams.
“Ignis,” Noctis whimpers through gritted teeth, clutching onto him tightly with his free hand as his fingers fly over his clit. His hips jump as he presses his thumb against his head beneath the hood, and Ignis’ knot pulses inside him. “Please. Please, I want- Want you to fill me.”
A hum rumbles along the side of his throat. Ignis trails a line of kisses that linger along his neck, and his teeth graze across the swollen lump of his scent gland. His flesh breaks out in chills, and Noctis yelps as they sink in.
“You want me to breed you, Prince Noctis?” he drawls, lips brushing over his tender flesh to soothe the bite. His eyes are burning with unshed tears, and frustration is pummeling away inside his ribcage. He needs it, he needs it, he needs it.
Another pleading whine croaks through his lips, Ignis’ hips shift ever so slightly, and then he’s done for. His orgasm slams into him so hard it feels like he’s been hit by the Regalia with Prompto speeding behind the wheel. His vision goes blurry and his ears ring and his throat scratches with the ragged yell he lets out. Noctis barely registers it when Ignis buries himself as deep into him as physically possible and spills. He’s so wet already, soaked with his arousal and theirs, but then he’s crested his waves and Ignis is still cumming.
He feels so full. Ignis’ knot plugs the mess of his and Gladio’s cum inside him, and when Noctis smooths his slick palm up the length of his abdomen, it feels tense from how much of it is stuck in there. He’s incredibly thankful for modern medicine. Just because talking like that makes his dick hard doesn't mean he actually wants a baby.
He and Prompto make out lying shoulder to shoulder while they wait for Ignis’ knot to deflate. His advisor lies against Noct’s chest with his mouth on his throat and wandering hands, and Gladio makes him cum two more times with his hand slipped between them. When he’s finally able to pull out, the wave of heat clouding the Prince’s mind has begun to dull, and he’s left feeling exhausted and clammy and disgustingly wet. He cleans up as well as he can manage, but it’s no use taking a proper bath when he’ll be sweating again in a matter of hours. The best thing to do is rest. Noctis downs a full bottle of water, mumbles something nearly incoherent about being tired, and immediately passes out.
It must be several hours before he wakes. The tent is darker than when they started, and his head feels like it’s filled with significantly thicker fog than before. He comes to with a soft noise that’s half trapped in his throat, and his gut aches with the pang of emptiness.
“Noct?”
Prompto sounds like he’s only half awake. He probably is, he’s got sleep mussed hair and wrinkles from the pillow imprinted in his cheek, and Noctis’ chest tightens with a mix of ‘cute’ and ‘need him inside of me’ as he twists to gaze at him where he’s lying behind him from over his shoulder.
His head isn't on right enough for him to register how he answers. Whatever he says makes Prompto frown, and he rolls over onto his side to press their bodies closer. His palm fits around Noct’s bare waist, and his mouth presses softly against the back of his neck where his mating bites throb.
“You’re burning up, buddy,” Prompto remarks, voice light like he’s amused by it, or maybe in disbelief. Noctis exhales in a shudder into the pillow, and his hand pets across the ridges of his ribcage. It’s supposed to be soothing, but all it does is make his want more painful.
“The other two are out there,” Prompto explains with a nod towards the tent flaps. “Daemons. The runes got too weak.” Noctis goes tense, and his scent sours with concern as he follows the slant of bright blue eyes. His head feels too muddy to listen properly, like his brain can’t focus on anything but his need for a knot, but he’s pretty sure he can hear their voices.
“They’re fine,” Prompto reassures, his open palm flattening as it drags leisurely down his front. He shimmies closer until he’s pressed chest to knee against his back, and his chin hooks affectionately over Noctis’ shoulder. “Lemme take care of you.”
Noctis is dripping wet. Prompto’s fingers glide over his thighs and along his pussy, teasing over his entrance, and he breathes a laugh against his shoulder as Noct’s hips jolt. Metal clangs off in the distance outside, but all his attention centers into the texture of Prompto’s fingerprints against his perineum.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs, lips brushing over his feverish skin as he speaks. Chills race down the whole length of his spine, and Noctis whines as he opens his legs. He’s desperate for more stimulation, but all Prompto’s doing is circling his digits along his rim and scraping his teeth over his flesh.
“Prompto,” he gasps, worry forgotten. His scent glands are aching, and he tips back his head to bare his throat in offering. His cunt squeezes, and Prompto ruts against the small of his back as he circles his fingers around the clenching opening of his cunt. He’s so hard along his spine, and Noctis yearns to feel it inside of him instead.
All at once, he sinks his fingers into him. Noctis’ eyes strain from how quickly they roll back, and his spine arcs to angle his hips and get them as deep as possible. Eagerly, he gives Noctis another, and then he spreads them apart to stretch him open mercilessly.
Pleading tumbles rapidly from his lips. Noctis’ hands grasp urgently onto the arm he’s got looped around him, and Prompto wastes no time fucking his fingers into him hard and fast. He’s absolutely brutal, and he curls them harshly into his walls as he bites at Noctis’ scent glands. It doesn’t have the same effect as an alpha’s saliva, but it makes his cunt spasm all the same, and the added stimulation shoves him into an orgasm so strong it winds him as effectively as a kick to the sternum.
He’s still cumming when he yanks his fingers out. Noctis’ voice breaks on a ragged cry, and it shatters in his throat when Prompto’s cock sinks into him all the way to his balls. He clamps down around him with desperate strength, and Prompto snaps his hips forward in wild pounding until he’s clawing at the bed roll and yelling. His body screams for a knot, but as he trembles through another orgasm and slick gushes out around Prompto’s throbbing dick, the heat haze lessens.
When the other two return, he’s sucking the cum from his cunt with two fingers crooked into his rim to hold him open. Four eyes settle upon the pair of them as they assess the situation. Gladio explains what they’ve walked into in a low voice as Ignis listens to the wet sounds, and the attention of his alphas makes his stomach flutter. Noctis sobs Prompto’s name, and the blond slurps around the base of his clit as he shakes apart around his knuckles. His whole face is soaked when he pulls back with a pop, and the Prince jerks as vibrant eyes pierce him from between his legs. He gives him two more wet orgasms as Gladio and Ignis strip off their clothes, and Noctis scrabbles at his scalp and clings desperately into spiked hair as he rides them out against his face. One after another, they crash through him, but he just can’t stop. Prompto’s too fucking good with his mouth.
His eyes close as he recovers, Prompto finally releases him to down a bottle of water, and somebody else’s fingers hook inside of him. He mumbles a soft sound in answer, pussy squeezing around them like a handshake, and then his consciousness slips away.
There’s light burning behind his eyelids when Noctis wakes again. He’s damp all over with sweat, he feels so hot, and his mouth is too dry. The croak he lets out grates in his scratchy throat, and movement rustles behind him.
“Mornin’, Princess.” There’s a big hand curled around his hip, and it squeezes around the bone affectionately. Noctis’ brain refocuses with a screech, and he pushes back into the hard body cradling him before he’s properly awake. He wants, he wants, he needs. The fog of his heat clings to every wrinkle of his brain, and the only thing that matters is being filled.
Gladio tucks his thigh between his legs, hauling him back onto it with an arm wrapped entirely around his waist. Noctis feels dwarfed by him, and his instincts shout to roll over and present himself like a good omega should. As it is, he’s trapped, and he grinds helplessly into his quad muscle and works slick into his bare skin.
“There you go, Noct,” he purrs, stroking his calloused fingertips feather light over his pubic bone as he cums around nothing, jolting in his hold. Noctis’ nails dig into his arm as he clings to him, and Gladio’s thumb presses down into the rigid line of his throbbing clit to push him into another orgasm.
“Alpha,” he hiccups, locking his ankles around Gladio’s calf to keep him in place. He rides his thigh with increasing desperation, and the backs of his eyes pinch with desire. His whole body feels like it’s coiled tight and about to burst, but he can’t get enough friction to release with how wet everything is. “I- I need-“
Gladio’s hand shoves its way between their bodies, and his fingers crook to slip three into Noctis in a single smooth glide. He bears down around them as his mouth drops open in a strained yowl, and his knuckles go white with exertion as he clutches onto his Shield’s thick forearms. His vision blurs, and his throat goes tight as Gladio laps over his mating bites.
The flaps of the tent peel back as Noctis cums gasping, and Ignis follows Prompto inside. The smell of soot and seasoned food clings to them, and with it follows a rush of pheromones. Alpha, another alpha, his alpha, layered with Prompto’s mild, manufactured musk. The cloying scent of them makes his tastebuds prickle, and he gulps mouthfuls of air to swallow the essence down.
“He’s awake, I see,” Ignis drawls, slipping the jacket he wears over his arms. Prompto snorts, tossing his vest aside, then kicks off his boots and his jeans with careless abandon.
“He’s out of it,” Gladio informs, hitching the Prince closer against his chest. The metal buckle of Ignis’ belt clinks, and Noct’s eyes go glassy and unfocused as his body reacts to the sound of it. He squeezes around his Shield’s knuckles, and he loses his breath in a rush as they spread apart and rock within him. His lashes flutter as his eyes roll back, and Gladio scrapes his teeth over the tight muscle in his shoulder.
Ignis’ hum vibrates his eardrums as he comes to kneel before them. Noctis locks his gaze onto him, and despite being sightless, the eye contact pins him in place with the way Ignis looks into him. His pupils are fogged and mangled, but Noctis drowns in his stare. He feels frozen in place, held captive like he’s got the points of his daggers in his limbs.
Abruptly, Ignis’ gaze shifts. There’s some sort of silent negotiating happening over his head, a back and forth he isn’t privy to, nor does he care to be. The three men come to a consensus as Noctis squirts around Gladio’s pistoning fingers, and then he’s passed to Ignis then Gladio and back again.
There are no words spoken between them as Noctis sinks onto his Advisor’s cock. Straddling his hips while he balances with his hands gripped around his shoulders, Noct lowers himself to sit fully atop Ignis in his lap, the length of him spearing so deep into his gut it hurts. His muscles flutter around him, and Ignis pets down his trembling thighs as he adjusts to the penetration.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” Ignis praises, gaze locked blindly onto his face, steady hands bracing him by the hips. His hair is down against his forehead, and the only thing he wears is his necklace. He’s so perfect Noctis feels like he can’t breathe. His hands shake, and they slip down his torso to steady himself against Ignis’ abdomen.
“You look so gorgeous taking him, Noct,” Gladio growls behind him, fisting his cock with a twist in his wrist from his position between Ignis’ knees. He’s got his free hand looped around Noctis’ torso, and he rolls his nipple between his thumb and his finger before he flicks it with his nail.
Noctis’ whole body jerks in answer, and Prompto laughs and breathes, “He’s so easy.” The shutter of his camera clicks, and Noctis blinks wildly as his brain tries to catch up. It’s so much stimulation. He can’t focus, it’s so hard, and his elbows buckle as he trembles through an orgasm he didn’t feel coming. The shutter clicks again.
Gladio’s palm skitters down the length of his body. Noctis pants through his open mouth as he fights through a wave of pleasure that threatens to knock him over, legs shaky as his thighs strain to bounce in Ignis’ lap, and those fingers meet his clit.
“Gladio!” Noctis shouts, his voice filling the tent, and Ignis’ hips jerk with a wet smack as his nails cut into the flesh of his tense stomach. The sharp thrust makes his cunt flutter around him, and it starts up a feedback loop of up and down rocking and grinding hips until Noctis has to stop as he cums in a flood. His legs feel jellied, and the screaming need of his heat is the only thing keeping him moving.
Rough fingertips continue in their path over the Prince’s skin. They trace along the jut of his hipbone and around his back where he can’t see, and then they slip over the knob at the base of his spine and descend. Pressure blooms against his asshole as Gladio rubs his fingers between his cheeks, slick from the wet mess all over his lower body. It’s gone before he has time to properly enjoy it, and his hips chase the ghost of the sensation with a gasp cutting through his throat.
“You think you can take more, Princess?” Gladio rumbles, his fingertips tracing a slow ring around the base of Ignis’ cock. It jumps from his attention, and Noctis’ thighs ache as he bears down around it in rhythmic squeezes. Ignis exhales through his teeth, and his fingers clench hard around the sides of his waist where he holds onto Noct. “Think you can take me here?”
The words don’t unscramble in his head until his thumb hooks around the rim of his cunt. Noctis goes entirely still, throwing back his head with an animalistic yell, and then every muscle jerks with a frantic need to cling to the added pressure inside him. It slides inside of him so slowly he can feel every ridge of his calloused knuckle, and Ignis’ cock jumps from the internal stimulation along its length.
“He can take it,” Prompto answers. Noctis barely registers that he’s failed to reply, mind completely centered on the texture of Gladio’s thumb rubbing over his walls and the deep pressure of Ignis in him alongside it. “Look at how bad he’s squeezing you. He wants it.”
His thick knuckle bumps around as he twists his hand. The angle he finds as he turns his palm towards himself forces Noctis to stretch wider, and a pinched sound squeezes out of him high and ruddy. Every muscle in his body is quaking, and Gladio feeds another digit into him in a slow glide.
The stretch is intense. It doesn’t hurt, Noctis is soaking wet and used to the girth of Gladio’s thick knot, but it’s just so much pressure around his rim. His muscles are bearing down hard, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from collapsing as he adjusts to it. He wants it more than anything, wants to be full of his alphas, and Noctis forces himself to be strong and prevail.
“Prom.” Gladio’s voice is so deep he can feel it in his skeleton. Noctis’ head drops, chin resting against his sternum, and the Shield’s free hand snakes between his body and Ignis’ to stroke up and down either side of his clit. His fingers are so big, rough from years of training, and the texture of them as they stroke up and down his dick robs the breath from him.
Gladio must do something to beckon him, or maybe Prompto just reads what he wants in his expression. The cot whispers as he shimmies closer on his knees, and then both his hands extend to cup around Noctis’ cheeks as they lift his head up. Prompto’s mouth meets his in a gentle kiss, and he licks behind his teeth and combs his fingers through his hair until he melts like butter.
Thoroughly distracted, it’s far easier for Gladio to stretch him open. He fits three fingers into Noctis’ cunt alongside Ignis’ twitching cock, and Prompto swallows every sound he makes. At some point, he takes over jerking Noctis off, and he whines into their kiss as Prompto squeezes around the base of his clit and shudders through a weak orgasm. His legs feel so sticky, and Ignis’ lap is wet from his slick.
“Alright, Princess,” Gladio murmurs as he starts to come down from the high. His stubble scratches along Noctis’ shoulders as he presses a line of kisses over his tacky flesh, and the prickly burn aids in his distraction. “You ready for me?”
Noctis nods once to confirm, shifting his position on Ignis’ hips so he can angle his pelvis back and up. His legs are starting to get stiff, and Ignis kneads his knuckles into his thighs when he picks up on the tension. He’s going to be exhausted when he comes out of this.
“Give it to me,” Noctis begs in a rush of breath, tossing a heated glance over his shoulder towards him as Prompto licks over the curve of his jaw. Gladio spreads his fingers apart once more, Noctis heaves, and then they pull out of him agonizingly slow. He feels too empty now, and his gut tightens with the want for more.
Gladio rises up fully onto his knees, clambering into position behind him with Ignis’ bent legs supporting Noctis in the center. His cock sits hilted as deep within him as it can get, and he’d scarcely believe there’s room for one more if he hadn’t taken them both before. Even if it’s a struggle, he needs it, and stubbornness alone will win him what he desires.
“Deep breath, baby,” Gladio instructs as Prompto bows his head to close his lips around Noct’s tender nipple. His fingers play over the slick mess between his thighs, rolling his clit between two of his fingers, and Noctis’ attention fractures between the points of stimulation. It’s hard enough to focus through the haze of his heat; he’s overwhelmed in the best way possible.
The hot, blunt head of Gladio’s cock ruts along his cunt. Noctis exhales in a shaky huff, eyes fluttering shut, and his fingers curl into his palms against Ignis’ chest as it begins to breach him. He’s trembling so badly, teetering on the edge of an orgasm he can’t quite reach, and he struggles to focus on the feelings drowning him through the haze in his brain. He needs it, he needs them.
It takes force to push inside, Noctis may be dripping wet and over eager, but there’s only so much viable space inside him for them to fit into, and it’s a tight squeeze. “Breathe,” Ignis reminds him, speaking through his teeth, and Noctis sucks in a lungful of oxygen so quickly it stings his throat. Prompto doubles his distraction efforts, he bites into Noctis’ scent gland and strokes his fingers rapidly over his cock, and Ignis rubs his palms soothingly over the tendons at the insides of his thighs and guides him through deep breathing.
All at once, the pressure gives way. The head pops inside, and Noctis jerks with a yell. It’s so sudden it makes Prompto flinch, and he breathes a sheepish laugh into the crook of his neck as his hand resumes its pace.
“Is it good, Noct?” he asks, but there’s no space in his body for words when his alphas are filling him up so completely. It’s so much, it feels impossible to take, but Gladio just keeps pressing in until Noctis can feel his hip bones resting against his ass. Prompto’s lips move, he’s speaking right up against his throbbing scent gland, but Noctis doesn’t hear a single word he says.
With every shaky inhale, Noct’s throat catches on a choked sound. He can’t think, can’t do anything but feel, and it takes all the conscious effort he can muster to let his cunt relax enough for them to move. The intrusion feels massive, they are massive, but as Prompto plucks a weak orgasm from him with his thumb under the hood of his clit, the splitting agony in his gut fades.
“There you go,” Gladio purrs, broad hands smoothing down his sides until they come to rest at his hips. The sound his pussy makes when he pulls back is disgustingly wet, and Noctis trembles like a leaf in the wind as he feeds it back inside. “So tight, Princess.”
The tent fills with stilted moans and deep grunts as he and Ignis find a rhythm. They can’t move very much in their tangled positions, but they don’t need to. Just the feeling of being so full is enough to set them all ablaze with his heat. Prompto’s teeth litter marks across his chest and his shoulders, and he works him apart with his fingers twice before Noctis is shaking so hard his arms buckle.
With a strangled cry, he falls forward into Ignis’ chest. His arms and legs feel too weak to go on, and his whole body is quaking. With pheromones flooding his brain and hands all over him, his mind is drowned with overwhelming stimulation. He’s long gone, reduced to nothing but a vessel of his heat.
“Do you need to stop?” Ignis breathes into his ear. Noctis shakes his head, face buried into his collarbone, and he whines a soft sound as Gladio’s fingers trace leisurely down his spine. The thought alone shoots distaste through his scent, and his Advisor presses a kiss into the sweaty crown of his hair.
“Wanna be full,” Noctis murmurs, speech a little slurred. His tongue feels thick, and his thoughts are so slow, like his brain is full of mud. He can’t stop shaking, and there’s an ache in the pit of his stomach that’s begging for more. He wouldn’t stop for daemons swarming their camp. It isn't an option.
The energy between them simmers, pooling with the thickness of syrupy affection as they hold one another. Prompto gets up on his knees to kiss Gladiolus over his body, and Ignis cards his fingers through the back of Noct’s hair with a soothing purr rumbling in his chest. His heart feels as full as his cunt does, and with pleased pheromones flooding through his system from his mates, Noctis is certain he could fall asleep slumped between them all.
Instead, Gladio forces him to attention. “Noct,” he murmurs, thumb slipping over the knob of his tailbone before it shifts down lower. His whole bottom half is covered in sweat and slick and cum, and there’s no resistance at all when he pushes his thumb print against his asshole. Noctis jolts, but it sinks inside with ease, and he breathes out through his nose in a long exhale.
“You wanna be full, yeah?” Gladio’s voice is even and rumbly, smooth like he’s trying to soothe him. His scent aids in the effort, wrapping around him in a comforting hold that keeps his heart rate steady. Noctis makes a soft, affirmative noise, and he massages his digit into his walls with a crook in his knuckle. “You think you could take Blondie here?”
His whole body jerks like he’s been electrocuted. The mere suggestion is enough to make him wild, and the desperation of his heat flares anew. “Yes,” he replies, every muscle in his body tightening to squeeze around the places he’s filled. “Yes, yeah, I can.”
For a while, the other two stay put. Gladio dips his fingers into the slick gushing out of his cunt to lubricate them thoroughly, and Ignis talks him through it with praise as he stretches him open. He’s less sensitive there, but it’s intense all the same, and every thrust of his fingers feels like he’s being stabbed straight in the gut with a spear of unfiltered arousal. He cums twice as Gladio spreads apart his knuckles and twists them inside, and they rub harshly against the length of his own cock through the thin wall separating his holes. The restraint he has is impressive, and he manages not to react to the stimulation except in little shifts of his hips and the pulse of his dick against Ignis’.
“Think you can get him ready for you?” Gladio rumbles, and Noctis blinks his eyes open from where he lies boneless against Ignis. Prompto’s so hard his cock is flushed bright red, and he’s leaking steadily from his tip where he lingers beside them. His face is doused with color, and he’s wearing his desire so openly in his expression that it feels like Noctis is punched with it when their eyes meet. Gladio’s got one strong hand cupped around the back of his neck like a collar, and he shoves encouragingly as they drink each other in.
“Okay,” Noctis agrees in a hushed tone, bobbing his head in a honeyed nod. He feels like he’s buzzing all over, and he wets his lips with sparks exploding on his tongue. His mouth is watering at the anticipation of the taste of Prompto’s cock, and he parts his lips to accept it inside as he shimmies closer on his knees.
The angle is a little uncomfortable. Noctis has to strain his neck to be able to reach him, and Prompto is forced to kneel half atop Ignis’ shoulder on the pillows. It helps when Prompto cradles his head in his hands to support its weight, but the moment the musky scent of him hits his nostrils, Noctis no longer cares about silly things like the prick in his neck or breathing.
He wastes no time taking him as deep into his throat as he can. Noctis’ nose nudges against his pubic bone as he swallows him down, and Prompto sputters his name and lets his hips twitch forward because he knows Noct can take it. His cunt pulses when he gags around the intrusion, and Prompto’s voice cracks.
“Noct!” he cries, hands locked around the back of his head with laced together fingers. He’s thrusting steadily into his throat, giving him no time to adjust, and Noctis blinks up at him through the mess of his bangs as he hollows his cheeks and sucks hard. “Noct, it’s so- So good. I’m so-“
“Prompto.” Ignis’ voice slashes through the moment. His tone is sharp and commanding, leaving no room for nonsense, and Prompto whines in the back of his throat as his rhythm stutters. Noctis moans around him, pointed tongue digging into the slit of his leaking cock, and his lashes flutter as he fights to keep his eyes on him. “Do not finish now.”
His pelvis is shaking violently. He’s teetering on the edge, at war with his self control, and his cock is throbbing along Noctis’ palate as he works his mouth over him. He’s just barely holding on, and he whimpers as his hands claw through black hair in a feeble attempt to distract himself. They scratch against his scalp in a frantic bid for restraint, and pleasure sparks through Noctis’ gut at the bite of them.
In a hard won victory, Prompto manages to pull back. His cock slips out wet and dripping, and Noctis flicks his tongue along the ridge of his head before he flops back heavily onto the cot beside them all. He’s breathing harder than Noctis is, and his cheeks are violently red.
When he’s managed to regain his breath, Prompto declares he’s ready. His expression is so serious, but Ignis and Gladio both jab him with teasing insults. Prompto lobs them right back as Noctis floats in his head, clenching rhythmically and without thought. His mind is fuzzy and his awareness far away, lost completely to his heat. All he needs is to be full.
The positioning is challenging. There’s a confusing tangle of limbs as Gladio leans back and Prompto swings his leg over his thighs, climbing halfway into his lap to straddle him. He’s too short to reach squatting and too tall on his knees, and they shift and adjust Noctis between them like a ragdoll until they get the angles right. The two cocks seated inside him bump and shift about, and Noctis murmurs soft sounds as they nudge into his walls. Used to the stretch at this point, he buries his face into Ignis’ neck and breathes in the smell of his scent gland, lips brushing over the trio of bites he wears at the base of his throat. Ignis is pumping soothing pheromones into the air to keep him relaxed, but Noctis doesn’t have the consciousness to even think of going tense.
“Alright,” Prompto murmurs, perched between Noctis’ bent frame and Gladio’s pretzel legs. There’s no telling how long they’ll be able to keep up this conglomerate of bodies, but Prompto’s got shit stamina anyway, and Noct’s on a hair trigger too. It’ll be enough. “Ready for me, buddy?”
Noctis couldn’t say for sure how he responds, but whatever it is seems worthy. Prompto takes a very deep breath as Ignis encourages him to do the same, and then he’s cleaving Noctis in half as he feeds his dick into his ass.
It is more than he’s ever taken before. It explodes through all his senses, and Noctis howls as his body stretches to accommodate. He doesn’t realize he’s sobbing, but Ignis brushes his thumb over his cheek and it comes back wet. It hurts, it’s so much, and it’s the most difficult challenge he’s ever put his body through. His blood roars in his ears and his heart hammers, and every muscle in his body tightens up in protest as his walls fight the intrusion.
The moment lasts forever. It is ages before Prompto stops moving, hilted all the way inside him, and Noctis shudders out a wrecked croak when he finally stills. He’s stretched to his absolute limit, and he can feel every ridge and vein of the cocks stuffed inside him. There’s barely enough room for them, and they’re all pressed together so tightly it can’t be comfortable for them. Noctis can feel the sharp pain of the stretch around the rims of his holes when he bears down, and when the cocks inside throb in response, it sets off a chain reaction of movement in his holes as they pulse and jerk with hard won restraint.
To his credit, Ignis attempts to check on him. Out of his mind as he is, Noctis offers nothing coherent, but it must soothe his concerns enough that he allows them to proceed. Motion ripples through Prompto’s pelvis, hesitant, and then the other two follow.
It must be difficult to move. They don’t fuck him hard or fast, but instead they shift slowly and grind into him in deep rotations. Their cocks bump around together within him, and it’s all Noctis can do to lie there and accept them as he sobs into Ignis’ collarbone and clings to him without strength.
Gladio grunts his name from between his teeth. Somebody’s hips jerk hard enough to jolt Noct’s body between them, and they all groan as his holes squeeze. His body is so full he can barely suck in a lungful of air, there’s no space in his chest for oxygen, and his moan rattle from his throat as fingers find his clit. He can’t tell who they belong to, and his eyes are too blurry with the tears sticking to his lashes to look.
“Noctis.” Gladio’s voice sounds far away, low and gritty in a way that he can feel in the roots of his teeth. His cunt spasms, and wetness gushes out of him as three sets of hips twitch. The tent’s full of heavy breathing and the thick scent of arousal, humid enough they’re all sweating.
There’s a hand on his belly. The fingers press together, and then they push up into his gut, driving in and hooking right over the crest of his pubic bone. Noctis’ eyes fly open wide, and a loud cry wracks through his body as the pressure inside him intensifies tenfold. He stares unseeing at the canvas wall of the tent, and his holes clench desperately as Gladio’s fingertips massage Ignis’ cock through his body. It makes everything inside him shift, rubbing them all against one another, and a chorus of groans and gasps sounds.
“You feel that?” The fingers shift, seeking, and then they dig in again even harder. Noctis’s walls flutter with yearning, and he hiccups between sobs and high moans as he clings onto the cocks destroying him. His attention narrows into the blinding sensation of pressure, and Gladio’s hand massages at all three of them from outside of his body. “You feel us all inside of you, baby? I can.”
Noctis cums gasping and crying, pleading for all three of them, for more. He gets impossibly tighter as the contractions stampede through him, and it sets off a link strike of shuddering hips and aborted thrusts. Prompto is the first to break, and he sobs violently and he trembles against his back as he fills him. His hands scrabble for purchase around Noctis’ body, and heat floods into his core.
The friction of his pulsing cock on the other side of the thin wall separating his holes trips the other two over the edge. Ignis grits out a warning before his knot pops, and Gladio follows a moment later. Noctis goes rigid between them, and a scream rips through his throat as the swell of their knots tears him impossibly wider. He’s blind with the intensity of it, ears ringing, and torn between agony and cumming again. His heat wins out, and Noctis screams as he twitches and claws into whatever limbs he can latch onto while his orgasm steamrolls him.
He’s fairly sure he loses consciousness. When he opens his eyes, he feels achingly empty, and he whimpers as he stretches out his legs and his arms and his back. Everything hurts, and a pathetic little whine breaches his lips as he writhes. His gut feels crampy and uncomfortable, and he wraps both his arms around his middle as he curls in on himself.
Gladio’s lips are on the back of his neck. “Shh,” he soothes in a whisper, and Noctis’ voice breaks on a high whimper when his cock presses into him. It’s a slow, easy glide, and he feels loose and used when he hilts in him. It settles the agony of heat in his stomach, and Noctis purrs a pleased noise and slumps into the cot as he fucks into him leisurely. He’s out cold before he manages to cum, and when he wakes again, he’s stretched around a knot. It isn’t Gladio’s. He must’ve cried for another in his sleep.
The cycle doesn’t end until night breaks. Thoroughly exhausted, Noctis slumbers through most of it, waking sweaty and needy and wet until someone stuffs him full and he manages to rest again. It isn’t his longest heat, but it’s definitely the most demanding, and when the fog of it finally clears and he feels like a person again, he’s so tired he can barely function. Everything hurts, and his holes feel puffy and tender and so sore they burn.
“Open,” Ignis instructs. Noct’s jaw slackens so he can fit the spoon along the curve of his tongue, eyes cracked open to gaze up at him. He swallows dutifully, and warm soup slithers down his throat. “Good boy.”
He’s half lying down on a cot under the stars, propped up against Prompto. It hurts too much to sit, and his legs are so weak Gladio had to carry him outside. They’d wiped him down while he was asleep, but he still feels tacky all over, and his cunt has yet to stop leaking slick and cum. He’s in desperate need of a bath, but it can wait until morning when he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die if he tries to move.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, lids heavy. The trees whisper with a breeze that feels divine against his feverish flesh, and Noctis lolls his head back against Prompto’s thigh as he slumps. His fingers brush his filthy bangs back from his face, and Gladio leans in to squeeze affectionately at the bend of his knee.
In the morning, Noctis finally manages to eat the fish he’d caught. Ignis cooks while they lounge in their chairs around the fire, and he does his best not to squirm too much. It still aches to sit properly, and wearing pants is far too painful to bear. He’s got nothing but a t-shirt Gladio packed draping his body, along with a smattering of new bites and scratches and bruises. When his fidgeting gets too consistent to pass off as casual, Prompto sinks to his knees between his feet to soothe the burn in his cunt with a chunk of ice melting on his tongue.
Like nothing happened, they break down their campsite two days later. Supplies packed into the Regalia’s trunk, they set off on their journey, wind in their hair and music turned up loud enough for Ignis to complain but quiet enough to carry out a conversation.
“Insatiable lot, aren't they?” Ignis sighs, glancing into the rearview mirror. It must be on instinct; he can’t see the reflection, but his ears work just fine. Gladio chuckles beside him as Noctis braces both his hands on Prompto’s shoulders, sinking down into his lap to seat himself on his cock in one smooth motion. Prompto shouts and grapples at his hips, and Noctis throws back his head with a groan. His jacket’s falling down around his elbows, and his hair’s mussed from Prompto’s fist in it when they’d kissed.
“Let ‘em have fun,” Gladio shrugs, flashing his teeth in a smirk tipped towards him. Ignis’ hands shift in his lap, tightening into fists around his knees as he glances between the road and the direction of the moaning behind him, and Gladio reaches across the console to pat his thigh consolingly. “I won’t crash the car, Specs. Nobody’s around, anyway. They’ll be alright.”
They don’t make it to their destination, but instead to a free spot along the side of the road where they can put the seats down and the top up and come together. Noctis groans as he grinds in Ignis’ lap on one side of the car, and Prompto leans in to kiss him in the center as Gladio fucks up into him on the other. The windows fog before any of them manage to cum, and the poor Regalia’s backseats suffer not for the first time to the staining of oily lubricant and sticky cum.
His cunt spasms and he shouts, and Ignis talks him through his second orgasm with measured words and thrusting hips. Difficult as it may be at times, there’s no one else Noctis would rather be on this journey with.
These three guys really are the best.