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Sentinels and Guides;

Sentinels and Guides Shipping Meme
A Sentinel!AU Meme

There are special people in the world: Sentinels--whose five senses are incredibly enhanced, sometimes to the point of overwhelming and who can easily lose themselves in fugue states--and Guides, the empaths with the ability to ground a Sentinel and focus them. Meant to be the protectors of the Guides, for every Sentinel there exists a guide that is their perfect match. In some universes, when matches are made, a Sentinel and Guide form a soulbond to fill the feeling of emptiness.

How easy was it for you to find yours? How are Sentinels and Guides treated in your universe? Or maybe you're one of the normal, unremarkable people. Do you fear Sentinels and Guides? Despise them?

Rules
1) Post with your character/canon in the subject header.
2a) Choose whether your character is a Sentinel or a Guide
or
2b) If you don't know or don't care, just leave it blank!
3) Information about Sentinels and Guides can be found here and here. Information on 'The Sentinel' which this meme comes from can be found here.

4) All the tagging! Have fun 8D

Prompts
oo1. The Meeting:
How did you meet? Was it at an event organized specifically for finding your other half? By accident? Did you follow a mystical calling to them? Some other way?

oo2. The Bonding:
Do Sentinels and Guides in your universe soulbond? How does it go down? Is there a ceremony or do you just retreat to the bedroom?

oo3. Rejection:
Sometimes Sentinels or Guides propose a match but it's just not perfect. You don't feel the pull or maybe you think there is someone better or maybe you're already claimed. Maybe you were claimed and someone better came along?

oo4. Protection:
Sentinels are meant to protect Guides, any Guides, but it's even worse when they feel their Guide is in danger. They go feral; blind to anything but stopping and killing whoever threatened their Guide or the bond. Maybe someone attacked your Guide or you haven't bonded yet and you feel threatened or maybe you're the one doing the threatening. Whatever the reason, Sentinels in a feral state are dangerous and only their Guides can stop them.

oo5. Lost:
Sentinels often lose themselves in their senses. Either you're a Sentinel who has lost themselves or a Guide that has stumbled on one or a friend trying to draw them out. Unbonded Sentinels will find it hard to escape without a Guide. Or maybe you're bonded already which means you just need yours to come home.

006. Persecution:
Sometimes normal people or the government fear the power of Guides and Sentinels. Guides are empaths, feeling the emotions and sometimes passing thoughts of others and it can make people feel violated. Sentinels often have enhanced strength, which can make them dangerous. So they scorn them, hurt them or in the case of governments, regulate them.

oo7. Death:
Unbonded Sentinels and Guides eventually lose themselves to the empty cavern inside them. Torn apart from the inside by the feeling of something missing. Breaking the soulbond of a Sentinel and Guide is agonizing and horrifying, leading quickly to death for the remaining partner.

oo8. Old-School:
Guides used to be treated on the same level as slaves. Unable to work unless their Sentinel said. Not allowed out on their own. They used to wear collars and couldn't own land or inherit money. Maybe the old ways haven't completely fallen out of style.

oo9. Unbonded:
Nothing is worse than being an unbonded Guide or Sentinel. Always looking for your other half to fill that empty feeling but you probably have friends that aren't your match or who are trying to set you up with someone. Maybe you're skeptical about the whole love at first sight thing and haven't been looking.

o10. Wildcard: Some mish-mash of the above or anything else you can come up with!

Image from weheartit / original meme by

imadeamistake

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Gladio's eyes remain firm on his Guide, watching every little motion. They are finally alone, somewhere his mind considered fairly safe, and it feels like his entire being is focused on John's movements. His eyes do flicker, briefly, to the gun, noting where it had been, but it's nothing to his interest in John's physical being. When John turns around, Gladio's words are a command, and not entirely an intentional one. "Coat. Off."

He at least has the sense to remove his boots, the jacket coming off after to pile on top. The tank top remains for now, but he moves all at once, coming towards John to pull him against him. John might be able to hold onto it, but every part of Gladio is screaming that this this is finally his, and he needs to mark it inside and out so that everyone knows that.

The command is hardly needed. And John chooses to let it wash over him this time rather than reprimanding the Sentinel for trying to order him about. As soon as Gladio starts taking off his jacket, John is toeing off his dress shoes, and they're followed rapidly by the suit jacket and the cuffs on his button-down shirt. That's about as far as the good doctor gets before the other man is on him, pulling him forward.

While the Bond insists that's perfectly all right, that's brilliant, in fact, John pushes back reflexively. The urge to assert himself is still there, warring with a flood of pheromones that are telling him to just relax and let his new Sentinel take command. The doctor redirects the push so that he's walking Gladio backward toward the bed, if he can.

"Eager there, tiger?" John asks, aiming for playful, even as he can feel his heart start to race. If he can manage to get Gladio to actually back into the bed and sit down, the Guide will reward the good behavior with a burst of approval across the Bond and all but climbing into his lap, knees on either side of Gladio's hips, once more as he faces the man and nuzzles into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Edited 2017-04-07 03:35 (UTC)

It's a moment of balance. Gladio's instincts to completely own the moment and his guide collide with his knowledge that it isn't a problem if his partner wants to take control, leaving him not quite frozen as John pushes back but hesitating, caught between two worlds of thought - the biological and the logical. The former does 'fight' back against the Guide, urging his Guide to allow him to assert his dominance, to take control, to own him. The logical part of Gladio would be less keen on doing so against John's will, but despite the pheromones pumping from him, he actually does take a step backwards. Then another.

The 'reward' on getting to the bed, thankfully for John, is enough satisfaction for the biological to stop the pour of pheromones from his Sentinel. Gladio's hands go to John's backside, pulling him in closer as he relishes in being able to glide his jaw against John's hair, tucking their heads in close. This close, John will be able to smell everything coming off of Gladio, the strongest scent at the neck, matching where it is in John.

A sense of contentment settles in John's mind, and he feels the coil of tension that's been inside of him ever since they'd had to pull apart at the clinic start to unwind at last. "God, you're ten years too young for me, but you smell bloody good."

His hands are careful, resting on his Sentinel's shoulders. John turns his head after a moment and kisses along Gladio's neck where the scent is strongest before giving into what may be an incredibly inappropriate urge for a Guide and parting his lips to bite down hard. It's nothing compared to what Gladio did to him to give John his Bond Mark, but it's probably going to feel like something, especially when the doctor starts to suck. If John is going to get a mark to advertise to the world that he now belongs to someone, Gladio can deal with something a little more temporary to show that he's been claimed, as well.

Edited 2017-04-07 04:15 (UTC)

Gladio gives a snort of a laugh at John's comment on his age, his tone suggesting that John is ridiculous. "Age is just a number," he points out, enjoying still those words in John's accent. John is significantly older than he might have ever believed his Guide would be, but it doesn't bother him. There's fight in this soldier, someone who might, he hopes, understand that Gladio's duty comes before all else. A Guide who isn't some weakling he has to protect with no backbone... how can he not appreciate that, no matter John's age? He's not a bad looking man, to Gladio's eyes, very English. He can work with that, though.

But his thoughts are entirely cut short when John bites. A ragged sound, pulled out by surprise, leaves Gladio at the bite and his body tenses hard under John's hands, the sound turning into a growl that's almost threatening but yet he doesn't pull John away. The Sentinel in him protests the returned mark at such a sensitive place, but Gladio finds it unbelievably erotic. His head turns and lets John nestle in there more to make sure the mark remains, his fingers tight on the man's backside to keep him close.

"Bastard," he does breathe out at the end, eyes closed and breathing harder which only pulls on John's scent stronger.

John just hums back cheekily before mirroring the way Gladio had licked and worried at his own mark. Let him have a little taste of what it was like to be the Guide. The growl doesn't particularly bother or scare him. If anything the general acquiescense is encouraging the doctor to test his boundaries a little more to see what he can get away with. That's still at odds with his nature to submit, but he'll have to think about that later.

Once he's put sufficiently care into ensuring Gladio will have a visible mark for a day or two, he relents. Holding him so closely, the Sentinel will likely be able to feel the line of John's cock through his trousers as it begins to stiffen once more. "How far are we going here?" John asks. That is important to establish before his teasing crosses a line.

The fully mature and rational part of his brain says kissing and maybe a little friendly groping is as far as it should go for a first encounter with a stranger that he's not waving goodbye to the next morning. His body wants to insist he's ready to just outright take the younger man right here and right now, though, claim and be claimed completely. They haven't even kissed properly and he's already thinking about that. It's been months since John's had any chance for or immediate interest in intimacy. Apparently that's switch had gotten flipped along with the one that turned off his need for the cane.

They're both in a very similar state, both mentally and physically. There's no hiding the Sentinel's interest in his Guide, but more so the both of them will be able to scent it on the air, Gladio's own arousal a scent like a campfire, smoke and heat. Yet as he pulled back to look at John, a man who had been a stranger only hours earlier, who acted nothing like a normal Guide, he realized that there was some attraction there that had nothing at all to do with the man as a Guide. That aggression, the spine, the sass, the intelligence... while it might have originally led to a friendship, perhaps, hell even a one night stand, Fate has decided to do something different with them both.

But while John's more natural in his dominance towards Sentinels from years of experience, this is new territory for Gladio. It's old hand for him to lead the way, by his own nature and by his nature as a Sentinel, and everyone knows how Guides are supposed to act. More like Prompto, naturally submissively (though sometimes he thinks Prompto's got too much of that) and trying to please.

John's words force him to think on it, his hands smoothing up trousers and to John's back, spreading there. "...that depends entirely on you." His voice is low in the air between them, like it had been on the table back at the clinic. "I'll have you, right here and now, if you want it, but if that's going to make things awkward or you don't, say it now." Yet despite the growl in his voice, his eyes speak volumes. He means it. If John says no, or limits it, he'll keep it to that. His control can handle that; he's certain of it.

There's a primal thrill that speaks to the Guide in him when Gladio offers to have John just like that, here and now. There's maybe just a touch of pleasure to have his ego stroked by someone who looks and smells like this. (Still got it, Watson.) Gladio will likely feel some of that over the Bond and John's scent grows stronger--that, at least, falls in line with a typical Guide. He's something softer than Gladio, like tea with a hint of cinnamon.

John lets one of his own hands shift, stroking along the beard on Gladio's jaw before grasping his chin. The doctor gives the Sentinel as rather appraising look, mock-serious. "Mm... think we can help each other along this first time. Wouldn't mind going farther next go around." John strokes his thumb across Gladio's lips. "Might even let you suck me off if you can impress me when we're sparring."

He's aware that's probably not quite what Gladio meant by 'have you.' If the Sentinel is going to let the doctor set how this progresses on a physical level, though, then he's going to have to work for any scrap of submission beyond what John can't entirely help thanks to his biology.

Maybe it's a bad idea to turn it into a game and a challenge straight off. It might be insulting or dangerous to get the Sentinel riled up and push back against his natural dominance... but John's never been one to run from danger. There's too much fun in it.

There's the momentary flare of surprise in Gladio's eyes at John's choice of words. They send a bolt of need straight through him like a live wire, ending in a lift of his hips to drive himself up into John's warmth seated on his lap, his hands flexing against John's back. The desire's there for precisely what John says, yet the dominance is starting to rankle. Later, when they've cooled off from the initial stages of the bond, it won't be nearly as bad, the instinct of the Sentinel wouldn't be fighting him as hard as it is right now.

Or fighting John.

There's only a glimpse of what's coming, the narrowing of Gladio's eyes, before he growls and rotates his entire body to throw John off onto the bed, straddling his hips and bracing a hand to either side of his head. It's only natural to bend his head down and give a bite like a warning to John's neck, right at the bond mark.

For a second, a soldier's instinct lights up and he just about starts wrestling with Gladio... for all the good that's going to do given their relative size. John does know where the other man's injury is and how to exploit that, though. But there's no viciousness coming through the Bond linking them together--aggression, certainly, but it's not frightening.

John resists the temptation to fight for now, knowing full well from that initial thrust just how interested in John's way about things that Gladio is. That becomes much easier when the other man bites down on his Bond mark. That's going to be a potentially irritating weak point; John can tell immediately when there's a flush of heat and his body relaxes. He bites his lip, muffling a moan.

"Bastard," the Guide echoes after a moment, breathless. "You'll rip your stitches out doing that. Be careful."

John's not terribly careful as he fights through the haze of submission to slide his hands up, under Gladio's tank top. He leaves the man's injured side alone for the most part, just scratching along the Sentinel's side. For his uninjured side, though, John's hand goes all the way up to Gladio's chest where he runs a finger around the other man's nipple before flicking over it as a test and a small reprimand.

Edited 2017-04-07 18:13 (UTC)

The bite has exactly the reaction Gladio wants, scenting the release of that heat, feeling John's body uncoil beneath his. He gives it an encouraging nose, enjoying the sound of submission/desire/need/anger all in John's voice. There's something deeply satisfying about hearing it and it provokes a huff of a laugh out of Gladio to hear it. "I was careful," he informs the other. "Know how? I didn't rip them."

They could both be jackasses in their own way.

One thing John will learn quickly is pain doesn't bother Gladio. Most Sentinels had that in them when they were in a combat or Bond rage, almost Berserkers, but Gladio is someone who's trained from the time he was old enough to hold a practice sword to take blows, to go past the pain and thinking little of it until the job's done. On top of that... he likes it. Maybe it's tied into his personal love of the fight, but the pain makes him feel alive. So he'll stretch out under it, grunt at the flick but he'll give back with a nip of his teeth... though he's kind enough to move his mouth to John's jaw.

They have that in common, then. John's typically a gentle lover with the women he's been with, attentive and relaxed. There have been a few who enjoyed it a bit rougher, though, and that's always fun. The few men he's experimented with have gotten a harder time of it from him, as well. Perhaps it's some latent desire to prove he's not just some submissive Guide for anyone to roll over. He is not a man who will be ruled by instinct.

Except where present company is concerned, apparently. And even still, with Gladio's teeth off his mark, John finds his focus sharpening once more. It feels good, an honest give-and-take challenge for him, as well. Most of the Sentinels John's met up to this point have been ones he was able to put fully and easily in their place when needed. Whether it's the Bond or because Gladio is uniquely himself, he's harder for John to want to fully control him.

When Gladio responds to the flick, John takes that as license to rake his nails across the other man's chest. He turns his head away from the nip to his jaw before curling up and bringing his lips in close to the other man's ear to speak quietly. "You're a cocky thing, aren't you? Reckon we might need to do something about that." One of the hands he's been scratching with drops down to grope Gladio through his trousers.

It doesn't mean John doesn't have the capabilities to put Gladio under so heavily he wouldn't know a thing, but there is a unique difference in being Bonded - the connection that goes back to John when he does it. A Sentinel will almost always instinctively fight going under, in particular if he's in a Rage, but Gladio can also feel John's true intentions in return. It will end up making true Rages easier for John to control than the unbonded Sentinels in the past, but he'll know every second of what's happening to that Sentinel.

It's harder to shoot a stranger than someone you care about, but it's also easier to help them.

Gladio rumbles with a sound of appreciation at the scrape of John's nails across his chest, leaving behind crimson lines to match the black. It's a flare of heat that pools down between his thighs, making him twitch even before John's fingers find him. That pulls out a full on groan, his eyes half-closing as he rolls his hips into that seeking hand.

John will swiftly be able to feel that Gladio is very well matched in size below to his large frame, with heat felt easily even through the thick leather pants. "Heh. You're the one helping the situation." His voice was a low tease, turning his head enough to lightly jaw the edge of bearded jaw against John's cheek, then brought up a hand so that he could start to work, albeit one handed, on those remaining shirt buttons.

"...I wanna see all of you."

For half a moment, John almost pushes Gladio's hand away, a flare of self-consciousness rising. Rehab and weeks with the cane haven't been kind to his figure. Not to mention, he's 35, not 23. But the Guide lets that go. Gladio is going to see him at some point, and John's aware that he's not hideous, just not nearly so defined as his new partner. Something to work toward to ensure he can keep up with these young bucks, then.

"Not nearly as impressive as you are," John says, trying to at least do some expectation management while Gladio works his shirt open. "Don't get your hopes too high." John doesn't bother to help him, just runs the heel of his palm up and down the length he can feel. Let's see how the Sentinel does with buttons while he's being distracted.

As the buttons come off, Gladio will be treated to the sight of skin much paler than the rest of the Army doctor. John's tan lines stop at his neck and wrists, very distinct, still, from his battle fatigues. There's some pale hair running down his chest, but nothing to write home about. There are also various small scars, nicks and lines earned in combat through the years. Most prominent, though, is a still-new scar on his left shoulder, very near his heart. The skin is twisted, puckered up and white. Dealing with the bullet had been a complete mess, and there hadn't been much time to do more than stabilize him. It's all a blur to John. He just remembers looking down after a sharp pain in his back. And then being delirious after with infection and fever and hallucinating strange and sometimes horrifying things that made him try to lash out at people.

"Guess this is us comparing war wounds, hmm?"

From Gladio, at first, there is silence. No, John isn't as impressive as Gladio, but few men are and he knows that. There's a certain decided pride he takes in his body, meant for wielding a broadsword one handed and being able to stop a charging dualhorn in its tracks. It isn't what he expects out of other people.

There's a quiet rumble of appreciation at John's hand against his covered length, but Gladio's eyes are on the skin he's uncovered. His fingers move slowly, from scar to scar, until they find the one that nearly ended John's life. His thumb brushed over it, his face nearly expressionless before leaning in and pressing his lips just above it.

"Glad my Guide's a fighter," is all Gladio said, that approval, and appreciation, in his voice, as his lips brush skin with every word.

A knot of uncertainty he hadn't even really realized was forming in the silence releases and Gladio will feel that approval and more than a bit of warmth reflected back at him through their Bond. The moment is far more tender than anything John had been expecting, and he closes his eyes, and lets his head rest back again, baring his neck fully in submission as a sort of... gratitude? He's not even sure. It just feels like the right thing to do.

His other hand slides down from Gladio's chest and starts to undo the button and fly on the other man's trousers. If Gladio wants to see all of him, John's intent on seeing all of the other man, as well.

"Glad my Sentinel doesn't mind that." My Sentinel. The words are still strange on his lips. "Half-worried you lot get over-protective when it's not needed." That's still probably true, but for now there's gentle teasing. He opens his eyes a bit again, staring up at Gladio as he dips his hand into the Sentinel's underwear to grasp him fully with one hand.

John's small measure of submission earns him a mouthing across the neck, starting over the Adam's apple and ending at the Bond mark, though no bite followed. "Still might," he rumbles against skin at the mention of getting too over-protective.

When John's hand found him, Gladio gives a low groan through his teeth, pulsing against John's palm. He balances himself on knees and a hand to slide his hand down John's body until he arches a brow, then undoes button, fly, so that he can mirror his Guide and take him in hand.

"Might need to do something about us both," quoting John from earlier, his chuckle a vibration in his chest before he rolls his hips forward.

John shudders just for the mouthing and draws in a deep breath. His neck has always been a sensitive place... something of an inevitability with a Guide, but never quite to this degree. "I'll have to train you out of that, then," the doctor shoots back as he moves to finally press his lips to the other man's. It's only brief, something chaste to start when they've been rather less chaste about everything else.

And they're getting less chaste by the moment when Gladio takes John in hand. "Mm... yeah, well, I did say helping each other along, didn't I? There's a lad." Clearly this is just where he wanted you, Gladio!

John matches the thrust of Gladio's hips, arching up into the touch. As with much of the rest of him, John is just average, unassuming, but well-proportioned. He tries not to mentally compare their lengths, but, well... that's what blokes do, isn't it? Still, he's never been particularly embarrassed by his cock. It gets the job done to satisfy his partners, or it has up to this point. They'll find out at a later date, perhaps, if it's good for Gladio.

Given their relative positions, John does have the advantage of two hands over Gladio's one, so while he starts up a steady stroking rhythm for the other man, his free hand goes wandering further afield across Gladio's chest and stomach, searching for any sensitive spots.

With his hands in such sensitive places, it's impossible to miss the jump of cock in John's hand at the suggestion of 'train you'. Good, bad, it's hard to tell, but Gladio's hand tightens around him and it definitely puts it in the category of 'good'.

It won't take long for John to find two places that seem to make Gladio's rhythm stutter - up along at the tops of his ribs, under his arms, and the smooth flat plane just above his hip. John wouldn't know that most of the time Gladio doesn't even bother with a shirt, so there's a certain degree of weathering taken place, but there's still places that definitely find themselves quite sensitive.

Gladio takes his time, though his nose and mouth remain somewhere between John's neck, the bond mark, and the scar at his shoulder as he works John. John wants to keep it to this far, he can do that, as long as he's getting to finally touch his Guide to his heart's content.

John's resolved to be on top next time so that he can be the one more easily kissing and scenting along Gladio's neck and chest. The Sentinel's scent is fairly overwhelming, but there are other ways for a Guide to leave his mark, and there is some of his own scent to mark his Sentinel with. He'll know it's there, even if others might not take note of it.

It's hard to keep his full focus as Gladio works him, and the Bond slowly begins to cement itself between them with the intimacy. So, this is how their Bond is going to be. John's aware that a sexual relationship is going to bring its own challenges atop the current new Bond relationship. At least they're very compatible on both fronts from what John can tell. The rest of it, some of the first hints of their knocking against one another out with the rest of the group, is where they'll need to focus later.

His own hand follows the rhythm of Gladio's strokes, and John arches fully up into the other man's grip. He tries to stop himself making any overly embarrassing and needy noises, though that gets a little harder each time Gladio noses toward his neck. John swears quietly at a particularly nice pass and his own hands falter for a moment.

"Haven't... bloody hell, you're the first in months. I'm getting close. Ease off a bit. Rather have this last awhile." Mainly because he'd like to make his partner come first. It's something of a point of pride that he tries to satisfy the person he's with before himself. Whether Gladio shares that mentality or not remains to be seen.

The doctor resumes his own rhythm, whether Gladio obliges the request or not, thumbing over the head of the Sentinel's length at the top of each stoke now to add a little more stimulation. The hand that's been wandering finds its focus on tracing Gladio's ribs where they're most sensitive.

The last thing Gladio is going to mind at this point is John's scent on him. With his scent on John, this Guide is his and he'll be damn proud to show it off in either way. He knows he's scented Noct on Prompto before plenty of times and the other way around a few, which if he hadn't been around Noct since the time they were young might have driven him into absolute insanity a few times. It still sometimes had come nearly to blows even though he knew the Guide was claimed.

Here... they're going to have an issue. Gladio's as dedicated and determined as a lover as John is, so the 'who comes first' ought to be an interesting sexual 'debate'. As it is, Gladio does back off on John's request. Really, he's not entirely blind to reality. John's got some years on him, won't recover as quickly. He's still young (too young, according to John) and can.

He pulls his hand away, a smirk coming to his lips as he looks down on his Guide. "Maybe I'm not against the idea of having you wrung out and pliant under me, you know."

John scoffs and gives the inside of one of Gladio's thighs a pinch. "Don't be cheeky." The 'or else' is heavily implied in the look and tone the Guide returns. "It'll take more than coming off quick to have me wrung out and pliant." Not... a lot more. But certainly, he'd like to imagine he'd be a little more work than that. Drawing it out should bring more satisfaction for Gladio, anyway. John's certain of that.

"Get your hand up here by my head and lower your hips down. I've got a different idea." He keeps stroking Gladio even as he speaks, watching him through a hooded gaze. If Gladio obliges the ~~command~~ request, he'll be rewarded with another burst of approval across the Bond from his Guide as John shifts to align them and use both hands to wrap around both their lengths at the same time. It's getting more intimate than a mutual hand-job, but it's still tame enough for John to feel comfortable with it as a first encounter.

That pinch earned John a sharp growl, glaring briefly before giving a nip in return. He wouldn't take nicely to that any more than John was taking to his bites. Still, his smaller Guide has already proven to be able to urge him around, and even if he doesn't realize it, the command-reward system is already starting to set in his mind as he does as he's told, his eyelids fluttering as John's approval surges through him.

It's a damn fine choice as John's hands wrap around him, leaving Gladio to look down with hungry eyes to John, rolling his hips in the time that John set. With John's hands busy, though, he had every ability to be able to speak, dipping his head down to rumble. "Do you have any idea how good you smell? Better than any Guide I've ever scented... you smell like a fighter. Like gunsmoke. I can taste it on your skin, every time." His mouth finds John's shoulder and sucks gently.

John sucks in a sharp breath at the nip, but manages to brush it off for the most part as his Sentinel moves to obey. It's nice. This is nice, and he can absolutely work with it. Maybe it's a little harder to command the other man and they'll need to set out a few more general boundaries when they're not in the throes of passion, as it were. But this is moving along very well.

"Mm... not s'bad yourself." John can't help a light chuckle that devolves into a quiet moan as Gladio latches onto him and their lengths slide against one another through his hands. In a moment of madness, he confesses something he was going to hold back on a bit more not to sound like a broken loon. "I couldn't walk before you came into my clinic room. Been using the cane since they discharged me. But you turned up, and god... I dunno. It's like I can fight again." He turns his head away, embarrassed.

"Never mind me. Mm... getting too sentimental." And he hardly knows the man. But the scent of Gladio, what he'd done to set John's blood burning and his body wanting had changed something.

There will definitely need to be some talking, but until the biological is appropriately placated, it's almost impossible to think straight enough to bother. Gladio's nose finds its way up to John's hair, a very animalistic nuzzle, then he stops at John's confession. Just a pause, thinking on it even through the hormones rampaging through his veins.

He vaguely remembers the cane, but he could only remember it as their first few seconds of meeting before nothing more. It hadn't really registered that much with him when it had just been Doctor Watson, and he hadn't seen signs of it since so it hadn't even occurred to him about it. He pulled his head back enough to meet John's eyes, a brow lifting as he pulses against the other. "Doesn't seem to me like you're a man who needs a cane," he finally says, his tone pointed. He hasn't even noticed so much as a limp, only John's strength once he'd been put into the strange situation.

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Feel free to have this go as you wish - if it's too god-moddy let me know

You're good!

Whew!

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Sorry about the speed today!

No worries!

Re: No worries!