Chapter Text
Prompto's mood seemed low as he and Gladio tramped up the hill to Malmalam Thicket.
"What's up?" Gladio said gruffly. His younger friend stopped and sighed.
"I'm just fed up with running errands for people all the time. I want to do something important, leave my mark on this world, make people remember me," he said with a frown on his face. Gladio set down the camping gear and sat down on the wall for a moment.
"Errands is what we need to do. That is important to people. We keep them safe and that makes a hell of a difference once the daemons come out," Gladio explained. “Not everyone is destined to be a king.”
“I know…” Prompto said but Gladio’s words did nothing to cheer him up.
“Hey, doesn’t that witch live around here?” Gladio asked.
“Yeah…” Prompto signed again.
“Didn’t you want to go get potions from her last time we were up here?” Gladio asked.
“Yeah, but you said they weren’t safe and we didn’t have time to take a detour.”
“Well, we ain’t in any hurry today,” Gladio said with a shrug. “So if you really want to go…”
“Can we?” Prompto said, his demeanour changing instantly to one of nervous excitement. “Can we really go? Really?”
“Sure, but don’t make me regret it!” Gladio said, picking up his backpack and setting off up the hill again. He shook his head and smiled to himself. He was more fond of Prompto than he cared to admit and taking time to cheer him up would make the whole trip a lot more bearable.
When they arrived at the witches house she was nowhere to be found. Next to the front door, there was a small table set out with homemade potion bottles. There was a small slate with prices written in chalk and a wooden box with a slot for gil.
“Sorry, Prompto, she ain’t here,” Gladio said, turning back towards the path.
“Wait! We can still get potions though, right?” Prompto asked, hopefully.
“We don’t know what’s in ‘em. They might not be safe.”
“Since when did you turn into Ignis?” Prompto joked. Gladio grunted in response.
“I guess it won’t hurt to take a couple. Make sure you leave enough gill. We don’t want her cursing us.”
“Sure thing!” said Prompto snatching a couple of pink coloured flasks from the table and dropping the appropriate coins in the box. His smile beamed from ear to ear. Gladio shook his head and tried not to smile back.
“Best be getting on if you want to reach camp before nightfall,” he said.
“Yes, sir!” Prompto said running on ahead.
As the sun went down the thicket took on a sinister feel. Prompto was jumping at shadows as Gladiolus kept an eagle eye out for anything lurking amongst the trees. The pair were not far from the safety of the camping ground when they were jumped by daemons. The fight was harder than either of them wanted to admit. They were missing Noct’s warping ability and Ignis’s strategies but together they did their best.
“Gladdy!” Prompto shouted and threw him the witches potion. Without giving it a second thought he cracked the vial and consumed the potion. A strange sensation came over him but he didn’t have time to ponder its effects as he parried another daemon attack and stood his ground.
Finally, the battle was over and the men collapsed back to back in the safety of the camping ground.
“That was tough!” Prompto exclaimed, still breathing hard from the exertion.
“You’re telling me. There seem to be more and more daemons each time we come up here,” Gladio said wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Did the potion help you?” Prompto asked nervously?”
“Nah, I reckon it was a dud,” Gladio replied. The potion hadn’t raised his health or improved his strength, but it had given him an unusual sensation in his groin.
“I didn’t feel anything either,” said Prompto sounding disappointed.
“Never mind. I’ll pitch the tent, you get the fire going. I’m hungry for cup noodles,” Gladio said dragging himself back onto his feet.
With their bellies full Prompto and Gladio sat next to each other, staring into the flickering flames of the campfire.
“Gladdy?” Promtpo asked.
“What?”
“Are you sure that potion didn’t do anything to you?”
“Pretty sure it did nothing,” Gladio replied. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice that Prompto picked up on.
“I think it’s had a delayed effect,” Prompto said as he stood up from his chair. Gladio looked at his friend and noticed that his soft boyish features seemed more hard and masculine. He shook his head, it was probably just the shadows playing tricks with him. Prompto started striding around the campfire and even beat his chest with his fists a couple of times in some kind of primal show of masculinity.
“Sit down, Prompto,” Gladio said. “We need to rest for tomorrow,” but there was a fire in Prompto’s eyes and an energy coursing through his veins that wouldn’t let him sit still.
“I can’t, I’m pumped. I want to take on the world!” Prompto said, then he stopped and looked Gladio square in the eye. “I want to take on you!” Gladio threw his head back and laughed but his gloating was short-lived. Prompto slammed his hands into Gladio’s chest as a declaration of war.
“Oh, so you do want a piece of me?” Gladio said rising from his camp chair, thinking this would be an easy fight. He stood almost a foot taller than Prompto and weighed nearly half as much again so it came as a surprise when Prompto’s fist made contact with his six-pack with such force that it doubled him over.
Gladio swung his own fists in retaliation but his strength was lacking and his coordination failed him. Prompto landed another punch square on his jaw. This was no friendly sparring match, Prompto had every intention of overpowering him and seemingly he had the strength to succeed.
The pair tussled on the camping ground, knocking over the chairs, tripping on the tent pegs and throwing punches as if they were sworn enemies, not lifelong friends. There seemed no limit to Prompto’s strength but Gladio felt surprisingly weak and defenceless in comparison. One wrong move and Prompto had him pinned to the floor, face down on the ground and begging for mercy. Try as he might there was no way Gladio could shake him off.
“Enough!” Gladio cried. “You beat me!” Prompto rolled Gladio onto his back and pinned him down by his arms. Breathing hard Prompto stared into his eyes.
“I’m not done until I’ve had my fill…” Prompto breathed. Gladio melted when he realised what that meant. He was powerless to resist as Prompto placed a kiss on his lips. He lingered for a delicious moment then pulled away. Gladio strained to reciprocate but Prompto’s weight held him fast. The struggle was over, Prompto had won and Gladio was eager to accept his fate.
Prompto released Gladio’s arms and took his hand, leading him back to the seclusion of the tent. Burying his hands in Gladio’s thick, brown hair Prompto kissed him as if his life depended on it. Gladio’s rough stubble scratched his chin but that only seemed to intensify his desire. Prompto lifted Gladio’s tank top over his head and he kissed him again as he fumbled with his belt buckle.
Gladio’s head was reeling. He felt intoxicated but the sensation was so intense and pleasurable he didn’t dare fight it. He allowed Prompto to undress him without any resistance. Unsurprised to find his own penis standing hard and tall he watched Prompto free his own erection as he unzipped his trousers and freed his body of his clothing.
Prompto laid Gladio on his back. Drunk on the rush of testosterone he needed to dominate him completely. The situation seemed unreal, dreamlike but too intense not to be real. Gladiolus wrapped his arms around Prompto as he laid between his strong, hairy thighs, kissing him hard, again and again. The smell of Gladio’s sweat was the only aphrodisiac Prompto needed to spur him on.
Gladio sighed in ecstasy as Prompto firmly stroked his erection. His hand moved lower cupping his balls then Gladio gasped as Prompto’s fingers slipped inside him. Panicked by the foreign sensation Gladio reached to touch himself. Prompto’s fingers were delving into a moist opening between his anus and balls. Before Gladio had time to comprehend what was happening he cried out as Prompto withdrew his fingers and thrust his erection deep inside.
Prompto was like a jackhammer, banging away, harder and deeper with each thrust. Gladio lost his mind at the overwhelming sensations of friction against his aching cock and being filled again and again by the masterful Prompto. Just at the point when Gladio thought he could take no more Prompto cried out as he ejaculated and collapsed breathless on Gladio’s chest in a pool of Gladio’s own semen. Gladio reeled from his own release and the waves of contractions that continued deep inside him.
The next morning neither man could full recall the events of that night. Without looking each other in the eye they cleaned themselves up, got dressed and made a simple breakfast of bread and meat. They completed their errand using as few words as possible and neither spoke again until they reached the fork in the path that led to the witches house.
Prompto caught Gladio’s eye then looked away, embarrassed.
“You know, Gladdy, I don’t think the witches potions are all that good. Let’s give it a miss next time we’re out this way,” Prompto said.
“Agreed!” Gladio nodded. And with that continued back down the hill to the car.