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It's so strange, being back.

Ishgard hasn't changed in hundreds of years, strange to think it would have changed since he'd been here last, but then, everywhere else he'd been has changed just in the time he's been there. So it's strange to be walking streets he knows from his childhood but with eyes that are so different.

Beside him, Emmanelain chatters on about the different facets of city life. He had made sure Haurchefant knew to petition his former family with as much discretion as possible. They, of course, had simply said their son had died and they were certain some fugitive from Uldah couldn't be him anyway. He hadn't expected any differently. He feels like that person is dead and he breathes on as someone wholly different anyway, but it's strange, to be being shown around the place he grew up in by a member of one of the High Houses, someone his parents would have killed for him to be friends with just a few short years earlier, as though he were a stranger to this place.

He has always been a stranger to this place.

Dressed in Gridanian fashion and tanned lightly by the sun, he doesn't expect there's anyone here who would recognize him. He'd been barely more than a ghost when he left, hardly a warrior of anything. But as they pass through the Jeweled Croizer and Emmanelain gets caught up talking to some girl he's been trying to woo, there's a sudden, strange sensation at the back of his head, something like and unlike the Echo, and he turns, eyes scanning the busy street for... something. Someone.

(For some reason, unbidden, he remembers the night of the Calamity, giant pieces of some other part of Eorzea raining from the sky..

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It's startlingly easy at this height for him to get his arms around Phillip and his hands just under his ass to help him make up the last little bit of difference in heights between them. The motion is so natural, in fact, that it's hard to believe they hadn't done this before. There's definitely no surprise anymore at finding Phillip in his arms the moment the doors are closed and there's no hesitance now, either, the kiss deepening immediately.

There's nothing complicated about Gustavain's clothing, but there are a number of layers due the climate, so when they do finally separate at least enough to start working on pulling off each others clothes, he can't help but laugh and ask,

"Are the heels just standard issue for Viera or have you been holding out on me?" clothing preferences or desires haven't ever come up-- there are always other things to talk about, so this is new information on both sides.

That little lift does something to Phillip, and if he'd had any thoughts about shifting his form back at some point they were gone now. Between the two of them it's very easy to keep him at height throughout the kiss, and after he's just inclined to keep kissing as high as he can, working a few more blossoming marks into skin as he works off the upper layers.

The question gets a laugh in turn, Phillip flipping his hair slightly over his shoulder as he grins. "A bit of both," he hums, pausing from the disrobing long enough to run his fingers over the length of Gustavsain's chest, "I was rather trying to keep a lower profile, you know." There were definitely stuffy types in Ishgard who would not have taken kindly to his actual fashion sense, that's for sure.

It seems to be doing something to Gustavain, too. There's nothing wrong with Phillip's earlier height, but there's something that feels stupidly good about this, something he can't put into words, that he still has to drag him up a little, but it's a matter of only an inch or two, more of a match. It turns the kiss a little feral before the end, makes it easy to drag low, warm noise after noise out of his throat as Phillip works soft marks against his skin.

"So I can look forward to more of this, then?" They clearly very much should have discussed this, but Gustavain never even knew this was a little bit on the table.

Oh Gustavain. If this is enough to get that kind of reaction, then he is going to be utterly doomed when he discovers just how much Phillip enjoys dressing up. "This and far more, if you like," he says as part promise, part warning, hands sliding down to divest him of his pants, and as soon as that's done, pressing his hips back towards the bed to make it all the easier for Phillip to straddle his lap.

Obviously, the heels stay on.

"Gods yes," he doesn't bother a single moment of fronting about that. There's no reason to, not with Phillip, and even if it weren't Phillip, Gustavain has never been the sort to shy away from what he wants, when anyone bothers to ask him about it.

Like this, they're almost the exact same height, most of Gustavain's additional height is in his legs, which makes it extra easy to fall into more kisses while he drags him closer by his ass. There's something hungry about him, like it's been an age, partially driven by not thinking he was going to have this and then suddenly being given it, and also partially the joy of both familiarity and novelty at once. The body difference is the most noticeable, of course, but even Phillip's mouth is different, subtly, and the thrill of the new has always been something that not just Gustavain, but Azem has always chased.

Their fate is well and truly sealed on that end, then. Phillip has both a metaphorical and literal closet at his disposal that he is more than willing to use. But for now, there is plenty of newness in just this.

Each touch is fresh to him too, one of those things that his mind and soul knows but his body does not yet. The sensations are slightly different, enough so that there's the definite chance that there will be a touch that sparks more in him than he expects. He doesn't push anything in particular, allows Gustavain the 'gift' of choosing where to explore next, more than content to kiss and sigh and touch in return. (He's also just waiting to see how long it'll take for Gustavain to play with his ears.)

It's not that Gustavain hasn't thought of it, it's just that there are more pressing concerns at the moment, like falling fully backwards onto the bed and dragging Phillip down on top of him, hands working to free Phillip out of anything else he's wearing. Anything that remains on Gustavain is just because they hadn't made it to it yet, he's definitely ready to be out of all of it, no reason to wait when they'd started in such a rush.

He'll calm, eventually, exploration will win out over pure lust, it always does, but he's still caught in the first moments of this, a hand moving up to Phillip's hair to wind through the strands and tug him down into rich kiss after kiss.

By the time they're more horizontal, there isn't much clothing left to dispose of, and between the two of them they make short work of it. Phillip is more than eager to press skin to skin, basking in the warmth of their bodies together. It's not like it's horribly cold, or that they hadn't been in bed together mere days ago, but regardless of anything else Phillip near always has a bit of that hunger about him, like he feels like he will never get enough.

He's pliant enough and willing to be dragged into kiss after kiss, while his hands smooth over the familiar skin, tracing over muscles and digging in nails to draw little red lines across his body. He wouldn't have been upset if Gustavain had found a distraction to occupy his bed, but now that he's here he's going to claim what is his.

And he's more than willing to be claimed, though he's doing a fair amount of claiming on his own. He's never shied away from more groping touches when he feels like it, though he's often more deliberate than that, or sometimes doesn't touch at all if he's completely overwhelmed, but there's something about the way Phillip's legs turn more into haunches than ass that currently seems to be particularly fascinating to him. Possibly it's just the newness, but he can't seem to keep his hands away, gripping into his ass to move him around and gain friction together rather than his more normal spot on his hips.

It feels like it goes on longer than it probably does, like they just make out for an eternity, building heat between them, like Gustavain might just get them both off like this to start with, too greedy for anything else. But he does finally roll Phillip down to the bed and back off a bit, clearly not with intention to go anywhere so much as just to look at him.

"I like it," he says, with a cheeky grin, because obviously, "Are you keeping it for a while?" He asks it, but he doesn't make it easy to answer, setting his mouth against the inside of Phillip's knee and starting to kiss his way up his thigh, eyes never leaving his.

The more Gustavain gets his hands on him, the more he'll notice that there is still quite a bit of familiarity in the newness. His general coloration is much the same, obviously, but while his build is definitely not at all like the hyur's, his memory may see and feel glimpses of the Amaurotine begging underneath him in the shape pressed against him.

Phillip is very much enjoying the attention, evident in the shuddering sighs and occasional whimper drawn out of him in between his mark making, seeming determined to leave plethora of them so there was no chance of concealing them all. When rolled, he doesn't bother trying to keep it up, seemingly content to just laze on the bed beneath his lover, stretching out and clearly showing off under his gaze.

"Mm, I'm considering it," he says, in a way that insinuates that the answer is yes but he'd rather play a little with it, "Perhaps you'll see fit to convince me one way or the other..." He manages to get the words out before Gustavain makes it high enough on his thigh to make speaking truly difficult, though the end of the sentence gives way to a low, needy hum.

"I'm certainly going to try," it's not really that he particularly likes this form better than the other, and there's some of that in the tone, rough and needy as it is, but that the "trying" is a pleasure all on it's own.

There's oil shortly after, long, slender fingers wasting no time opening him up. There's an edge of exploration to this as well, haste but only to a point and then a slowing that would feel like teasing if it weren't so thorough. He drops his mouth over Phillip's cock only a moment after he eases the first finger inside of him, but the motion is definitely less about pleasure for either one of them and more about exploration, assessing the presumably new shape of this to go along with the rest of him.

Phillip expected as much, really; give him a challenge, and Gustavain is sure to rise to it. (Pun intended, in this case.)

There is plenty of time for exploration, like as not, because he'll notice fairly quickly that his fingers meet a bit more resistance that he's used to from Phillip. In a way that makes sense, what with this being a brand new form and everything, but on the other hand Phillip could have simply not done that. It certainly opens up more avenues to play with, if that sort of thing is of interest to him. His cock certainly has differences, and even though his pleasure isn't the purpose there's still plenty to be had, Phillip luxuriating under the attention as Gustavain has his fill of exploring.

He's maybe a little rougher, then, in the beginning, than he intends to be, because it's easy to let his hands fall into old patterns while he's more interested in learning what's new about Phillip's cock. But when he does realize what's happened, he slows, licking a long stripe up his cock on the way up, until he can tilt his head slightly, almost inquisitive, a sly little smirk curving his lips a moment later,

"Well now, you do think of everything, don't you?" because it has to be deliberate. And while they don't really need games between them at this point, Gustavain knows an invitation to play when he sees one. He drags his finger inside Phillip now, pace slowed to a crawl,

"Just had to find someone to show you how to use this new body, didn't you? You couldn't even wait for me to get back from the markets," it's taunting, but accompanied by him sliding back up Phillip's body, until he can finally nuzzle one of those ears a bit, not quite playing with it just yet, "I understand now. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

They don't need games, but that doesn't mean they're not fun all the same. And while he would have been fine if Gustavain hadn't taken the bait, either continued with the roughness or decided to just be careful enough without turning it into something else, but all the same he's delighted when he takes the opportunity for what it is.

He starts to laugh when Gustavain starts teasing, only for that slow drag to turn the noise into something else entirely. "Just because I can wait forever doesn't mean I'm patient," he teases back, and as near always in his teasing now there's that deeper hint, the verbal acknowledgement that they really don't need these kinds of things to hold each other's attentions.

His arms wind up draped over the elezen's shoulders, a loose sort of embrace as he leans into the nuzzle. "You always do," he murmurs in return, pressing his mouth against his neck.

He doesn't exactly tease, they're both too worked up for that. But he does slow the pace down considerably, now-- less the breakneck speed of familiar lovers who are starved for one another and more the slow, learning pace of something new. He would have been fine to fuck first and find out all the new sweet spots in the aftermath but, as always, he's nothing if not adaptable.

"You're so pretty like this," he purrs into an ear and there's something in his tone that suggests that this is more of him playing than a compliment, though he does also mean it. He nuzzles his nose more deliberately right into the base of that same ear, "Softer, too."

There's barely anytime for him to preen under the compliment (because he is pretty, even if Gustavain is playing), before the nuzzle sends a soft shiver down his body. He hasn't really done any exploring of his own of this form, and while he could fine tune it however he wished, he finds it's more fun to not be quite so particular. The sensation just now wasn't exactly sexual, but it did feel highly intimate in a way that relaxes him further and wanting more of the hold.

"If you thought I wasn't pretty, I'd be upset," he murmurs, a normal playful counter softened considerably by how suddenly warm and safe he feels in his lover's arms, lips moving down to find the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder.

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