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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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There have certainly been occasions where their tendency to not talk about things has gotten them in trouble- such as their months long refusal to discuss what they meant to each other and what they wanted. But for much of their actual sex, they're both reasonably content to just wander where the mood takes them, where a little spark in the conversation can inspire something new to chase. Had Gustavain not brought his role in the outside world into this, Phillip wouldn't have thought to draw the line, but the pleased hum he makes as his lips move down his jaw indicate he doesn't regret it.

"Do you think I can't have both?" he asks, loosening the grip on his hair and bringing his hand closer to kneed at his scalp, working out the tension there and down to his neck, "I still have every intention of making you beg."

Once any kinks in his neck are dealt with, Phillip shifts them around so Gustavain is laying on his stomach, the soft blankets underneath him. (They'll move to the bed eventually, but now he just has a point to prove.) He starts working on the muscles in the elezen's lower back, working his way down to his ass and then his thighs.

The kneading fingers have his eyes drifting closed, his whole body relaxing into the touch with a low hum of pleasure,

"You can have whatever you'd like," he returns, another statement bold in it's lack of embellishment. He's easily eased back down to the pillows and blankets, easily rolled over, though Phillip's going to have to do something before too long if he's going to start working the tension out of his thighs, or rubbing his ass like that, because it takes almost nothing before Gustavain is a bit uncomfortable from having only the hard floor to meet his arousal, trying to shift some of his weight off it while also chasing just the slightest bit of friction...

Even so, he doesn't really complain, just lets the lingering tension in his hips and thighs speak for him.

"Still a bit tense, it seems." He's teasing, massaging deep into his thighs before having mercy, rolling Gustavain over so the discomfort is gone but so is the chance for friction. He winds up straddling over him, leaning down to massage the front of his chest and shoulders.

If Gus tries to interfere at all with his own hands, there will be 'repercussions' for that- first, just a quiet displacement, putting them back on the ground, but if he feels like testing things he's more than likely going to end up with them bound. Either way, Phillip works his way down the front, find every bit of him that might be experiencing some tension. Except the one obvious place, of course.

It's very clear that his thighs are tense and Phillip is going to have to spend some more time there if he actually wants to get the tension out and also that Gustavain really likes that. There's definitely the feeling that, given a bit more comfortable resting spot, it's the place to really go after if he wants him to beg-- he's moaning deeply for even the small time he spends there.

Not that his shoulders and chest get a bad reaction, but it's clearly back into the low, sensual noises and relaxation, though his cock isn't getting any less hard from it, certainly. He does reach up once or twice, but once it becomes obvious that Phillip doesn't want him using them, he gladly just leaves them on the ground, seems content, for once, to just let Phillip do what he wants.

He seems lazily content enough that, were it not for seeing how he was a minute before, Phillip might think he's got his work cut out for him, if he wants him begging and desperate. But perhaps that will actually make it all the sweeter, when he does.

There was a reason Phillip was leaving that area for last, especially after seeing how well Gustavain reacted to even a little bit of attention there. Still, he takes him time getting there, making sure every other part of his body has been freed from the tension before finally moving down to his legs.

He'll start from the bottom of them and work his way up, though there's likely much less to be done there so it doesn't take near as long. Soon enough, his hands find one of the man's thighs, tenderly digging in to work out the tension. Regardless of how much either one of them are enjoying it, they'll stay pretty firmly on his leg, and with the way he's still straddling Gustavain there's not much to be done to get pressure in certain places without asking.

It probably takes longer even still than Phillip might have been expecting. It's not at all that Gustavain either doesn't want to beg or even is really trying not to, it's that it's so good all on it's own that there's nothing to beg for. Maybe it's not strange for a former lancer to hold his tension in his thighs, maybe it's a bit odd given how long it's been since Phillip has seen him with one in his hand. Either way, following the path of the muscles in his legs has him moaning, shifting underneath him, and the longer he goes, the warmer those noises get. Every press of his fingers gets a reaction-- heated moaning, the soft arch of his back, his legs shifting under his hands.

Surely it's impossible to make someone come like this and, even if it weren't, the noises he's making seem more transported than sexual, but it almost seems like he's teasing a bit at it, the way he's moving. It might not be what Phillip is specifically looking for, but surely it's a delight in it's own right, to have both his lover and someone so important to so many people, so wholly relaxed under his hands, too relaxed and trusting to even be thinking about what else he could want.

If this winds up not actually turning into anything, Phillip wouldn't necessarily mind- Gustavain clearly does need actual rest, and if somehow lulls him to sleep during this then maybe that's just as well. Besides, it's pleasing enough to just have him here, knowing what he's been through and how very nearly he could have never seen him again without knowing what happened.

He won't really try to push it further, except to keep doing it all. Each of the muscles get worked deep, try to purge all the tension from them. It is a little surprising that after all this time, all the other weapons and jobs Gustavain has taken on, that this is still where he's the most tense, but perhaps it's some proof of the past, staying with him. He shifts to really begin working at his inner thighs now, thumbs finding the muscles and working them until they're loose and relaxed.

He has, in a way, told Phillip precisely how to take him apart, if he's so inclined. For all his selflessness, Gustavain is hedonistic in bed to a fault. (Well, depending on who you ask, anyway. Phillip likely doesn't find much fault with it.) They're still on the floor with him flat on his back on it, Phillip's weight holding him there, and while there's no denying he's enjoying it, he's already said what he'd prefer, in his teasing way. Give him ten seconds to rut into the bedcovers with Phillip doing that to the muscles in the backs of his thighs and the prize would be easily won.

It's harder, like this, but not impossible. What's working against Phillip isn't relaxation or sleep-- he's still very much hard and ready-- it's that he doesn't really want him to stop precisely what he's doing, particularly not when he digs his fingers into his inner thighs. He moans to that, a little deeper than the others, and tries to part his legs further for more of it, dizzyingly responsive.

It is a very difficult decision, because while despite what Phillip said he is primarily interested in making Gustavain feel good, moving to the bed will mean he has to stop touching him for at least a few moments, and given the way the man looks and sounds, even that seems like too much time apart.

But eventually he gives in, pulling back so he's on his knees. "Your muscles are vey stubborn," he says, as if he's annoyed by it but they both know he's not, "Get on the bed, on your stomach. Maybe then we'll get all that tension out."

"Like the rest of me," he quips back, because that's true, but he's hardly being stubborn right now. Impossible to miss the soft shudder that goes through him at Phillip's "suggestion", and he'll roll to his feet with an ease Phillip hasn't seen from him in a long time, clearly more limber than previous with the work he's already done.

Once again, Gustavain's lack of any kind of cheek or sexy talking back about the order specifically, not even a "yes, sir", speaks volumes to how much he's willing to cede control of this situation right now, not even attempting the slight "protection" of seeking solace in jokes and teasing-- or at least, ones specifically about what's happening. He'll stop with the general japery and quick-wittedness when they put him in the ground and not a second before.

He sprawls out on the bed eagerly, pulling a pillow down to wrap his arms under and lay his head on and if Phillip were to walk in right now, he might think Gustavain ready to go to sleep, the way his eyes go heavy-lidded and relaxed almost immediately. But he definitely knows better.

"Like this?" he says and okay, maybe that's a little teasing, but it's mostly sweet.

Clearly he should do this more often, if it helps loosen up Gustavain that much. Assuming there's any time for any of that, of course.

He gets up and follows after him, unable to resist smoothing a hand over his hair, taking in the sight of him. "Perfect," he says quietly, leaning down to kiss the curve of his neck before letting his hand slide down the man's back, down to his legs.

It's easy enough to find those tights spots again, and with Gustavain on the soft bed it's much easier to work through them. Of course, depending on their priorities, he might not actually get to finish said work.

Gustavain hums softly in a quieter sort of pleasure when Phillip pets through his hair for a moment, a lazy, relaxed smile curving his lips.

"Hardly," he quips back, but it's quiet, and it's good to hear him say it with a lighter tone, a little scoff, than the deeper, darker thing it could have been given how this had all started. He's silent after that, at least for a moment, Phillip's fingers drawing out a low groan the moment he starts his work again.

All of the muscles are tense, even the lightest of his combat roles rely on a lot of running if nothing else, and all of it feels incredible, even moreso now that he's on the warm, soft bed. There's no reason to try to stifle the warm, low noises the massage is pulling out of him, so there's a whole litany of them, his body shifting in a lazy sort of bid for a bit of friction.

It's all very soft, clear that he's aroused and that it's sensual but not openly sexual. Except Phillip is quickly going to learn that if he digs his thumbs in along the muscle they naturally lay against if he just lays his hands on Gustavain's upper thighs, that he can get an entirely different kind of moan, deepening the higher he follows that muscle.

It doesn't take long at all for him to find, the motion something he winds up doing just to try and get into those muscles. He grins the first time he hears what that does to Gustavain, backing off to work out the other muscles before diving back into it, alternating between that and the more sensual pleasure.

"Better?" he hums, a little teasing but undeniably warm, pleased with how he feels the reaction beneath his hands. This really should become a regular thing; maybe he'll kidnap Gustavain for a day at a time to make sure he gets some godsdamn rest...

Each time he does it and then backs off, the reaction gets better the next time, more heated, lewder. A particularly long, hard press of his fingers sliding upwards gets a "gods" out of him that sounds more sobbed than spoken, fingers gripping harder into the pillow for a moment. But it takes a while before he finally begs,

"Please," he hasn't been holding it back, not really, he's just been waiting until he really means it, and it shows in his voice, "Please, I want--" he's not shy about asking for what he wants, normally, but another press of those fingers has the rest of the sentence splintering in his head and it leaves a pretty opening for more teasing.

(Maybe that's why he doesn't struggle to reach for the words right away, though it's not a conscious decision.)

"Please what?" It comes out of him near automatically, as his hands slide back down his legs and then up again, pressing in to the back of his thighs, "I'm doing the best I can for your leg muscles already."

It's definitely a tease, especially as he leans down to press a little kiss to the curve of Gustavain's back, where his clothes have almost certainly gotten pushed up from his attempt at getting friction. It's a very sweet gesture, in the middle of all the rest of this.

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