Oh, this is interesting. He looks down at him curiously. ]
You want me to leave a mark?
[ They haven't actually talked about preferences at length, although even if they did, Noctis isn't sure he has a lot to contribute -- he's a blank slate where things like these are concerned, having never actually been in a proper relationship. These things are frowned upon when you're a prince and you ought to be betrothed, you see. But now, things are different. Things are... new. ]
[Hmmm. This is slightly more difficult to navigate than he'd been expecting it to be. He settles down, searching for the words that he wants before trying to string them together into an explanation that makes sense.]
I want you to feel free to do what feels right. Within reason. Trust that you needn't always ask permission before doing something — it's good that you do, and it's a fine, responsible habit to be in. But...trust that I'll stop you, if need be. And trust that I'll tell you the things that I want, when I want them. All right?
[ Ah, yes, this is much better. Noctis has been comprehensively briefed when it comes to consent and partners -- the Citadel has always had a very firm stand where that is concerned, and Noctis understands, of course. In turbulent times, the last thing they need is accusations of the prince sowing his wild oats nonconsensually and all that.
Although honestly, they don't have much to worry about, not when Noctis' interests don't include the great majority of them. Ignis is telling him specifically what he wants, what he likes, and Noctis relaxes. This is new ground, and he's not sure if he's navigating it right. But this, this feels clearer, like he's been given a direction. ]
All right.
[ He's unbuttoning Ignis' shirt now. One button, two, three, his hand sliding in to spread it wider open so that his mouth can trail after, sucking a soft lovebite under his collarbone. Lips, teeth, suction, sensuous and slow. Oh, this feels right. ]
[He does his best to hold himself steady, breathing in slowly and holding it as Noct moves to explore him; it doesn't hurt, really, when the bruise forms, but he's intensely aware of it anyway, and his eyes go half-lidded even as he continues to watch Noct for his reactions.]
[ How did he like that, Ignis asks him, and Noctis can feel his heart pounding in his ears. He can see the way the bruise forms and blossoms, like a flower on his pale skin, so flawless, impeccable, and Noctis can't help but wonder what the rest of him looks like, bereft of clothes.
Oh, Six.
He blinks, before he's looking up at him, meeting his eyes. He's into this, very much so, especially when Ignis looks like he likes it, too. He's kissing that bruise, feeling oddly, powerfully possessive. ]
I marked you up. [ He observes softly, not in the least apologetic. No, he quite likes this. ] I like it.
[ Their relationship won't work unless they're honest with each other -- like that pastry Ignis had spent years making for him. It won't turn out right if Noctis is vague, and ridiculously enough, maybe that's laid the groundwork for their communication, to a point. ] I like seeing it on you, knowing that I put it there, and that you wanted me to do it.
[He catches hold of Noct then, carefully checking his grip before flipping them over, rolling them so that he's on his back and Noct is above him. He'd seen that look in Noct's eyes, that glimmer of possessiveness, and doing this only encourages it in some small and subtle way — placing him in a position where he's looking up at Noct, raising his chin to meet his eyes, and his king's familiar weight is pressing him down securely so that he couldn't get away even if he wanted to.]
I like it, too.
[That sort of confirmation is important, and so is the clarification that follows on its heels.]
I like belonging. Something like this...is a reminder of who I belong to.
[ Noctis lands on his back, Ignis rolling him over so easily, his shirt open and exposing his collarbones. Ignis' hair is in his face ever since Noctis had essentially banned him from hair products, and Noctis has never seen someone with such incredible, raw sensuality.
Ignis undone is Ignis at his best -- he is always so put together than seeing him like this now makes his heart race, makes Noctis want to do all sorts of things to him, with him. Noctis wants to see what he looks like unguarded, unraveled, and he gently lifts and removes his glasses, leaning down to cup his face.
Here they are, with Noctis pinning him down, making sure that Ignis doesn't go anywhere -- he quite likes this, actually, and there is a gleam of something sharper, more confident in his eye. This, too, feels right, and his lips drift over the sharp, defined line of his jaw. He's eager to please, to tease, his hand splaying over the flat of his chest. ]
That you belong to me.
[ He puts it into words now, looking down at him. ]
[The world blurs when Noct lifts his glasses away from his face. Oh, he can still make out shapes and colors, approximate guesses at things, but there isn't the clarity he usually likes to maintain over his surroundings, and it makes everything softer because of it. The lighting is soft like the curves of Noct's face; the hue of his eyes is softer from not being able to pick out the distinct flecks of variation running through them.
The bed beneath them is soft. The pillows are soft. The stinging memory of Noct's teeth in his skin is so soft.]
I've always belonged to you.
[He closes his eyes, relaxing, and everything about his expression and his body language suggests an invitation to continue; he's soaking up the attention and basking in it.]
[ Because there's no hiding from it now. Noctis has always seen Ignis as his, no matter whether he's realised it or not. His friend, his advisor, his companion, his -- his boyfriend. What a strange thing to call it, especially when he's so much more than that.
Ignis looks younger like this, more vulnerable spread out before him, and Noctis finds himself wanting more -- Ignis is open and soft only for him, letting him through those layers and layers of poise and composure to the real man beneath, and what a gift it is.
He noses him, cupping his face before he's kissing him again, thumb briefly brushing over his lower lip to tease before moving down, sliding his hand into the open vee of his shirt. ]
And I was always yours. Did you know that? I didn't realise it before --
You'll...never be wholly mine, Noct. But you shouldn't be. I don't want you to be.
[That's not something that you traditionally say to a significant other, is it? But it's the truth, and there's very little about the two of them that's traditional, all things considered.]
There's a part of you that belongs to your kingdom. A part that belongs to your bloodline. A part to the world...perhaps even a part that belongs to the Astrals.
[He closes his eyes, briefly, and then carefully adds one more.]
A part of you was Lunafreya's, too.
[It would be more shameful, more heinous, to ignore it. Regardless of what Noct's feelings might have been, platonic or romantic, there's no denying that much.]
You wouldn't be you without them. Just as I wouldn't be myself, without you. It's just who we are; there's nothing wrong with that.
[ Ignis is right -- sobering, but right, and gods, Luna. He was supposed to marry her, he was going to marry her -- is he still? That's something he has to sort out, and he's not entirely sure where to start. He thinks of her new, lovely and warm and full of passion, always just out of reach.
And then here is Ignis, who sees more clearly than he does and wants him anyway, and he bites his lip, guilty and uncertain. He wants, with all his heart, to plunge into this with Ignis, but he knows he can't -- he knows that there are other things that come first for him as king. No matter how much he wants Ignis, they have their duties to attend to, as well, for better or worse. ]
Yeah.
[ He says softly, his own gaze searching, soft and yearning. They're complicated creatures, the both of them, and Ignis is here, telling him that it's okay -- that this relationship is not as simple as he wants it to be, and that's okay, too.
Right?
He exhales a soft sigh, pressing his forehead to his. ]
[It's subtle, and fleeting, but Ignis doesn't miss how Noct instinctively changes the verb tense they're using when talking about Lunafreya back from past to present. But it's only to be expected, maybe. For Noct, she's still alive, and maybe knowing what he knows, he'll manage to save her the way that one day later in Ignis's memory, he didn't.]
I would never ask you to stop caring about her, Noct.
[He reaches up, bringing a hand around to the back of Noct's head, cradling it to help hold their foreheads together.]
I would never ask you to care less about something else, just for the sake of caring about me more.
[ How did he even get a man this good, this wonderful for him? Anyone else would probably have balked at that comment, brought up during an intimate moment no less. But Ignis, Ignis understands -- here is one of the few people who's seen the best and worst of him but loves him anyway and chooses not to correct the fact that Noctis is deliberately using present tense for Luna.
He noses at his cheek gently, exhaling a soft sigh. Things are complicated, but he can trust that Ignis will always have his back no matter what. Right? He's leaning in to press a soft kiss to his mouth, quietly grateful. ]
[It's a tease, designed to return a bit of levity to the moment, and help ease some of the weight of memory that's started to cling to them both. The kiss helps, too, when it's taken as nothing more than a kiss. Sometimes it's all right to do that, he muses, and let a kiss just be a kiss.]
[ It's designed to return levity into this moment, and it works. The kiss helps, soft and lovely and makes his heart flutter anew. Noctis, chuffed by praise, finds himself advancing again, buoyed by his own curiosity and shy desire. ]
I really am quite the looker, aren't I. [ Noctis smirks, mischief in every word. ] Is that how I reeled in a catch like you?
Hook, line, and sinker. You're a better fisherman than you thought.
[He's petting him steadily now, letting his little touches serve as silent, implicit encouragement as Noct gradually starts to explore the dynamic between them once again.]
But no. It was your heart I was lured to, not your looks.
[Something in him flutters at the word disfigured, too — something that hits a little too close to home, comes a little too close to the thought of the word blinded.]
[ It takes a moment, but he instantly knows that he's hit a raw nerve. Ignis' eyes, of course. Noctis doesn't yet know how it'll hit him, but it has him tracing the lines of his face, drinking him in. ]
[ Something is going to happen to him -- he's going to die, isn't he? Noctis sobers, exhaling a soft sigh. He can't hide it, and he closes his eyes, tucking his head under his chin.
Gods, he doesn't want to die, but he must. He has to. But what would Ignis do without him? ]
[He's quiet a minute, contemplating the impulse that's just struck him, and after a minute to gauge it and weigh it out in his mind, he makes the decision to try it, albeit tentatively.
So he slips his hand underneath Noct's chin, lightly catching hold, and tries to coax him back up again, seeking to make him look up instead of glancing away and drifting off onto his own sobering thoughts.]
Come back to me. Stay here.
[Stay here in the moment, he means, instead of getting lost in despairing thoughts. Stay here, instead of letting himself get pulled away on the undertow of his heartbreaking destiny.]
[ Stay with him. Stay here. Noctis wishes with all his heart he can do this forever -- but he knows they can't. Even so, maybe for now, he can be selfish. He's barely an adult with the whole world on his shoulders and the thought that he's going to die, and then here Ignis is, asking him to come back to him. He looks up now, vulnerable and open and soft, biting his lip.
What does he say? What can he say, when his heart feels like lead? ]
I wish we could stay like this.
[ In the pocket outside of time, to be like this forever. Won't it be nice? This way, nobody dies and no one gets hurt. ]
Stay with me, right now. We'll work out the rest later.
[His fingertips stroke lightly along the underside of Noct's chin, affording him some tactile sensation, seeking to anchor him in the present moment with the feeling of it.]
[ His voice sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine. It's the feeling in it, the honeyed bass of his voice that thrills him to no end. Despite himself and the threatening encroaching thoughts, he lets himself forget his woes, if only for a few moments, within Ignis.
Ignis anchors him, his touch warm and very real, and he nuzzles into it, a hand coming up to rest on the line of his jaw. ]
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Oh, this is interesting. He looks down at him curiously. ]
You want me to leave a mark?
[ They haven't actually talked about preferences at length, although even if they did, Noctis isn't sure he has a lot to contribute -- he's a blank slate where things like these are concerned, having never actually been in a proper relationship. These things are frowned upon when you're a prince and you ought to be betrothed, you see. But now, things are different. Things are... new. ]
Do you like that?
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[Hmmm. This is slightly more difficult to navigate than he'd been expecting it to be. He settles down, searching for the words that he wants before trying to string them together into an explanation that makes sense.]
I want you to feel free to do what feels right. Within reason. Trust that you needn't always ask permission before doing something — it's good that you do, and it's a fine, responsible habit to be in. But...trust that I'll stop you, if need be. And trust that I'll tell you the things that I want, when I want them. All right?
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Although honestly, they don't have much to worry about, not when Noctis' interests don't include the great majority of them. Ignis is telling him specifically what he wants, what he likes, and Noctis relaxes. This is new ground, and he's not sure if he's navigating it right. But this, this feels clearer, like he's been given a direction. ]
All right.
[ He's unbuttoning Ignis' shirt now. One button, two, three, his hand sliding in to spread it wider open so that his mouth can trail after, sucking a soft lovebite under his collarbone. Lips, teeth, suction, sensuous and slow. Oh, this feels right. ]
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[He does his best to hold himself steady, breathing in slowly and holding it as Noct moves to explore him; it doesn't hurt, really, when the bruise forms, but he's intensely aware of it anyway, and his eyes go half-lidded even as he continues to watch Noct for his reactions.]
How did you like that...?
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Oh, Six.
He blinks, before he's looking up at him, meeting his eyes. He's into this, very much so, especially when Ignis looks like he likes it, too. He's kissing that bruise, feeling oddly, powerfully possessive. ]
I marked you up. [ He observes softly, not in the least apologetic. No, he quite likes this. ] I like it.
[ Their relationship won't work unless they're honest with each other -- like that pastry Ignis had spent years making for him. It won't turn out right if Noctis is vague, and ridiculously enough, maybe that's laid the groundwork for their communication, to a point. ] I like seeing it on you, knowing that I put it there, and that you wanted me to do it.
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I like it, too.
[That sort of confirmation is important, and so is the clarification that follows on its heels.]
I like belonging. Something like this...is a reminder of who I belong to.
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Ignis undone is Ignis at his best -- he is always so put together than seeing him like this now makes his heart race, makes Noctis want to do all sorts of things to him, with him. Noctis wants to see what he looks like unguarded, unraveled, and he gently lifts and removes his glasses, leaning down to cup his face.
Here they are, with Noctis pinning him down, making sure that Ignis doesn't go anywhere -- he quite likes this, actually, and there is a gleam of something sharper, more confident in his eye. This, too, feels right, and his lips drift over the sharp, defined line of his jaw. He's eager to please, to tease, his hand splaying over the flat of his chest. ]
That you belong to me.
[ He puts it into words now, looking down at him. ]
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The bed beneath them is soft. The pillows are soft. The stinging memory of Noct's teeth in his skin is so soft.]
I've always belonged to you.
[He closes his eyes, relaxing, and everything about his expression and his body language suggests an invitation to continue; he's soaking up the attention and basking in it.]
Deep down you've always known that, haven't you?
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[ Because there's no hiding from it now. Noctis has always seen Ignis as his, no matter whether he's realised it or not. His friend, his advisor, his companion, his -- his boyfriend. What a strange thing to call it, especially when he's so much more than that.
Ignis looks younger like this, more vulnerable spread out before him, and Noctis finds himself wanting more -- Ignis is open and soft only for him, letting him through those layers and layers of poise and composure to the real man beneath, and what a gift it is.
He noses him, cupping his face before he's kissing him again, thumb briefly brushing over his lower lip to tease before moving down, sliding his hand into the open vee of his shirt. ]
And I was always yours. Did you know that? I didn't realise it before --
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[That's not something that you traditionally say to a significant other, is it? But it's the truth, and there's very little about the two of them that's traditional, all things considered.]
There's a part of you that belongs to your kingdom. A part that belongs to your bloodline. A part to the world...perhaps even a part that belongs to the Astrals.
[He closes his eyes, briefly, and then carefully adds one more.]
A part of you was Lunafreya's, too.
[It would be more shameful, more heinous, to ignore it. Regardless of what Noct's feelings might have been, platonic or romantic, there's no denying that much.]
You wouldn't be you without them. Just as I wouldn't be myself, without you. It's just who we are; there's nothing wrong with that.
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And then here is Ignis, who sees more clearly than he does and wants him anyway, and he bites his lip, guilty and uncertain. He wants, with all his heart, to plunge into this with Ignis, but he knows he can't -- he knows that there are other things that come first for him as king. No matter how much he wants Ignis, they have their duties to attend to, as well, for better or worse. ]
Yeah.
[ He says softly, his own gaze searching, soft and yearning. They're complicated creatures, the both of them, and Ignis is here, telling him that it's okay -- that this relationship is not as simple as he wants it to be, and that's okay, too.
Right?
He exhales a soft sigh, pressing his forehead to his. ]
I care about her a lot, Iggy.
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I would never ask you to stop caring about her, Noct.
[He reaches up, bringing a hand around to the back of Noct's head, cradling it to help hold their foreheads together.]
I would never ask you to care less about something else, just for the sake of caring about me more.
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He noses at his cheek gently, exhaling a soft sigh. Things are complicated, but he can trust that Ignis will always have his back no matter what. Right? He's leaning in to press a soft kiss to his mouth, quietly grateful. ]
How did I get so lucky with you?
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[It's a tease, designed to return a bit of levity to the moment, and help ease some of the weight of memory that's started to cling to them both. The kiss helps, too, when it's taken as nothing more than a kiss. Sometimes it's all right to do that, he muses, and let a kiss just be a kiss.]
As lucky as you are handsome, I'd wager.
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I really am quite the looker, aren't I. [ Noctis smirks, mischief in every word. ] Is that how I reeled in a catch like you?
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[He's petting him steadily now, letting his little touches serve as silent, implicit encouragement as Noct gradually starts to explore the dynamic between them once again.]
But no. It was your heart I was lured to, not your looks.
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He moves to his unbuttoned shirt, then, reaching to rest his hand over his chest, following it up with a slow, lazy kiss. ]
If I were disfigured...?
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[Something in him flutters at the word disfigured, too — something that hits a little too close to home, comes a little too close to the thought of the word blinded.]
Noct.
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I would want you, no matter what.
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[There's something oddly comforting about the caress of Noct's hand, though, and he leans into it after a moment, moved by the sensation.]
I don't want to think of something happening to you, is all.
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Gods, he doesn't want to die, but he must. He has to. But what would Ignis do without him? ]
...Yeah.
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[He's quiet a minute, contemplating the impulse that's just struck him, and after a minute to gauge it and weigh it out in his mind, he makes the decision to try it, albeit tentatively.
So he slips his hand underneath Noct's chin, lightly catching hold, and tries to coax him back up again, seeking to make him look up instead of glancing away and drifting off onto his own sobering thoughts.]
Come back to me. Stay here.
[Stay here in the moment, he means, instead of getting lost in despairing thoughts. Stay here, instead of letting himself get pulled away on the undertow of his heartbreaking destiny.]
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What does he say? What can he say, when his heart feels like lead? ]
I wish we could stay like this.
[ In the pocket outside of time, to be like this forever. Won't it be nice? This way, nobody dies and no one gets hurt. ]
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[His fingertips stroke lightly along the underside of Noct's chin, affording him some tactile sensation, seeking to anchor him in the present moment with the feeling of it.]
♪ Stay with me,
'Cause you're all I need... ♫
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Ignis anchors him, his touch warm and very real, and he nuzzles into it, a hand coming up to rest on the line of his jaw. ]
Sing that again. I want to hear more of it.
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