[ And he must have been hurting too, himself -- Noctis had essentially gently turned him down, afraid to hope, afraid for Ignis; it must have been difficult to watch. ]
[He draws in a slow breath, listening to the sound of Noct's words echoing in his ears again and again. Let's go to bed, as though it's that simple, as though it can really be that easy to mend things.
He wants it to be that easy. He wants it to be as easy as kissing him was, when they'd set aside questions of propriety for a night and simply let themselves feel.]
[ He's not wrong -- it's what Noctis wanted, what he needed, and if he hadn't done what he did then he wouldn't have met Prompto, spoken to him.
He's not sure if this is going to be easy; for them, this is uncharted territory, and it seems now like the stakes are infinitely higher now that he knows the taste of his lips, the warmth of his love, the fire of his devotion.
It should be terrifying, difficult, but Noctis is too tired for all of that, too exhausted for pride and another fight, and he exhales a soft sigh, allowing himself to feel. ]
You didn't do anything wrong.
[ He's quiet, trying to find the proper words to say. ] You did what you had to do. I just -- I freaked out.
[The word is soft, but with the sort of steady authority that invites no argument — the sort of tone a mother uses when gently chiding a favored child — and it seems they're not getting up for the moment after all, as Ignis rests his hand on the back of Noct's head and guides him back down to his chest, to feel protected and steady and safe against the rhythm of his heart.]
You've always taken it badly when someone you care about is hurting. Every time you act out, it's because you feel responsible for suffering you couldn't prevent.
[The Astrals chose well when they chose Noct, Ignis thinks grimly. That's a perfect tendency to have in a sacrifice — someone who can't help but want to bear the burden for others, to prevent their suffering.
Not for the first time, and not for the last, he silently vows he'll watch the world burn before he lets them use his Noct like that.]
Sometimes you choose suffering for yourself, but then you won't allow the people who love you to make that same choice. You'll suffer for love of others, but you won't let others suffer for love of you. Even when they would choose it, freely and willingly, because they love you.
[ Noctis says firmly, shifting to brace himself above him after a few moments, looking down at Ignis. He's not angry, he's determined. As much as he loves the way Ignis protects him, shields him and keeps him safe, he knows that there are times when the situation's reversed. And when those times come, Noctis won't back down.
He leans down to nose against his cheek -- he's no longer the young charge Ignis has to protect. He's... they're more than that, right? He's reaching down to brush Ignis' bangs off his forehead, a hand coming down to stroke over his cheek.
How determined his Ignis is, how fierce, and maybe that's enough. Maybe knowing Ignis' depth of feelings for him is enough, and he feels something in his heart clench. ]
I -- I like you. A lot. [ And he doesn't know how it'll pan out, even if he has an idea. In every scenario he passes sooner than Ignis will, whether he gets to live out the rest of his days as king or not, and he's not sure how it works in here, either. Does time stop for them? He wishes it does. Ignis' observation is right, perhaps, but Noctis doesn't want to fight. He's tired of it -- he just wants to hold Ignis and love him, and be loved, and think about the things twenty year olds in love think about. ]
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[ Noctis says, after a moment. He's missed him. ]
I know you were just trying to give me space.
[ And he must have been hurting too, himself -- Noctis had essentially gently turned him down, afraid to hope, afraid for Ignis; it must have been difficult to watch. ]
no subject
[He draws in a slow breath, listening to the sound of Noct's words echoing in his ears again and again. Let's go to bed, as though it's that simple, as though it can really be that easy to mend things.
He wants it to be that easy. He wants it to be as easy as kissing him was, when they'd set aside questions of propriety for a night and simply let themselves feel.]
You're saying I'm forgiven, for telling Prompto?
no subject
He's not sure if this is going to be easy; for them, this is uncharted territory, and it seems now like the stakes are infinitely higher now that he knows the taste of his lips, the warmth of his love, the fire of his devotion.
It should be terrifying, difficult, but Noctis is too tired for all of that, too exhausted for pride and another fight, and he exhales a soft sigh, allowing himself to feel. ]
You didn't do anything wrong.
[ He's quiet, trying to find the proper words to say. ] You did what you had to do. I just -- I freaked out.
no subject
[The word is soft, but with the sort of steady authority that invites no argument — the sort of tone a mother uses when gently chiding a favored child — and it seems they're not getting up for the moment after all, as Ignis rests his hand on the back of Noct's head and guides him back down to his chest, to feel protected and steady and safe against the rhythm of his heart.]
You've always taken it badly when someone you care about is hurting. Every time you act out, it's because you feel responsible for suffering you couldn't prevent.
[The Astrals chose well when they chose Noct, Ignis thinks grimly. That's a perfect tendency to have in a sacrifice — someone who can't help but want to bear the burden for others, to prevent their suffering.
Not for the first time, and not for the last, he silently vows he'll watch the world burn before he lets them use his Noct like that.]
Sometimes you choose suffering for yourself, but then you won't allow the people who love you to make that same choice. You'll suffer for love of others, but you won't let others suffer for love of you. Even when they would choose it, freely and willingly, because they love you.
no subject
[ Noctis says firmly, shifting to brace himself above him after a few moments, looking down at Ignis. He's not angry, he's determined. As much as he loves the way Ignis protects him, shields him and keeps him safe, he knows that there are times when the situation's reversed. And when those times come, Noctis won't back down.
He leans down to nose against his cheek -- he's no longer the young charge Ignis has to protect. He's... they're more than that, right? He's reaching down to brush Ignis' bangs off his forehead, a hand coming down to stroke over his cheek.
How determined his Ignis is, how fierce, and maybe that's enough. Maybe knowing Ignis' depth of feelings for him is enough, and he feels something in his heart clench. ]
I -- I like you. A lot. [ And he doesn't know how it'll pan out, even if he has an idea. In every scenario he passes sooner than Ignis will, whether he gets to live out the rest of his days as king or not, and he's not sure how it works in here, either. Does time stop for them? He wishes it does. Ignis' observation is right, perhaps, but Noctis doesn't want to fight. He's tired of it -- he just wants to hold Ignis and love him, and be loved, and think about the things twenty year olds in love think about. ]
I don't want you to choose that for my sake.