[ Noctis finds his way home to Ignis, eventually -- thanks to Prompto's intervention. He's tired, muddy, bloody (the blood isn't his, don't worry), and he's pretty sure he looks like something a hundred coeurls dragged in.
He's acutely aware of the fact that he, too, is in desperate need of a bath; one isn't clean after a few days in the wild, and so Noctis lingers in the doorway when he finds him, reluctant to get too close. It's on the tip of his tongue to apologise if Ignis has worried for him, if his sudden departure had caused distress, but he really had needed that time away, the days alone just to work off the worst of it.
He's not necessarily the poster boy of all that's good and perfect, but he's holding it together, and maybe that's all anyone really needs to do. ]
I'm home.
[ He says softly. He'd be back, like he promised Ignis in the short, curt going away note. He doesn't come closer, self-conscious of his own state of mess. He feels like a hundred years old and a thousand sorrows deep, whatever the hell that means, but he's glad to see Ignis again. ]
[That note is really the only reason why Ignis hasn't been worried out of his mind, these past few days, and even with the note he's still been...largely worried out of his mind, um. It's a delicate balance between understanding that Noctis needs his space and needing, desperately, to be present to protect him; as it is, he's tried his damnedest to calm his protesting nerves and have faith in Noctis to be able to take care of himself, and to get home when it's time to come home.
Now, it seems, that time has come. He wants to jump to his feet, to run to him and take him in his arms — filth be damned — but he makes himself go slowly instead, soft like the tone that Noctis has chosen, and draws near to have a look at him.]
And with a fine layer of dirt on you, I see. I can draw you a bath, if you like.
[He reaches into his pocket, finding a handkerchief, and uses it to wipe off Noct's cheek (don't think about the blood don't think about the blood it's not his blood don't think about the blood) so that he can bend, shakily, to touch a kiss against it.]
[ Noctis offers a soft, token protest, self-conscious and shy despite himself. Ignis looks so... so Ignis, a welcome sight for sore eyes and he can't help but soften. It's sweet, how he wipes a little space for him to kiss, and Noctis feels his heart flutter.
Always Ignis, who knows just how to set his heart racing. He can see him, too, just the touch of tremor, and he lightly touches his fingers, not wanting to touch him more when he's this dirty. ]
[For a second, he almost interjects something else — a suggestion that he attend Noct while he's in his bath, perhaps — but thinks better of it and nods.
The handkerchief is largely done for without a wash of its own, at this point, so he offers it to Noctis, obligingly.]
Wipe your face and hands, at least. I'll go get the bath started; just come through when you're ready.
[ He says gratefully, because as far as he's concerned Ignis is doing this in his capacity as boyfriend, and when it doesn't look like memories are going to randomly spill out of him Noctis squeezes his hand.
He takes the handkerchief and wipes himself as best as he can, feeling a pang of guilt at getting the gunk on Ignis' material. So he goes to rinse it out as best as he can at the other sink while the bath runs. He's stripping at one of the enclosed shower corners too -- giving himself a quick rinse, too, to get the worst out before he sits in the bath. He snags one of the thin bathrobes, wrapping it around himself.
He joins him later, brows knitting. ] I think I made a mess of your handkerchief.
[ It must suck; his Ignis has always been a stickler for cleanliness. Do you want to join me? he wants to ask, but refrains. Maybe now isn't the right time. ]
[Even though the setting and circumstances are admittedly wildly different from life at the Citadel, the habit of running Noct's bath is almost comforting in its familiarity. With practiced ease and deft care, he's managed to get the temperature to just slightly on the hotter side of perfect, to make it last a little longer as it inevitably cools.]
In you go, then. I'll be around if you need anything, and as you said, we can talk when you're finished.
[But he hesitates on the tail end of that thought, like he's silently and quickly debating with himself, and then offers a little more carefully: ]
...Or. You're more than old enough to handle it yourself, of course, but...I could stay, and. And wash your hair for you, if you like.
[ Noctis says softly, after a moment. He's missed Ignis, missed the gentleness of his comfort and the warmth of his presence.
He does, however, wait until Ignis looks away before he sheds his robe and settles in with a long, slow sigh. It's slightly too warm for him, but it's still good -- he knows it's Ignis' way of making sure he gets a longer time in the bath and he appreciates it.
Reaching out, he takes his hand in his, drawing him closer. ]
Stay with me, Iggy.
[ Those words might have more meaning than just the immediate situation, especially from the way Noctis is looking at him, but he doesn't let on. ]
[It's easy enough, then, to fold a dry towel and set it on the ground near the edge of the tub, sinking to his knees on it so that he can stay close at hand without the awkwardness of standing up and towering over Noct as he soaks.]
I'm sorry about what you saw. About...the things I remember.
[ Noctis is tired. He's exhausted, sad, and he doesn't remember when he'd last felt less like shit. But Ignis, Ignis is the silver lining in a cloudy day, and as he gets on his knees beside his tub Noctis is reaching out with a clean hand, drawing him close. ]
Don't be sorry. You've carried those for so long.
[ He presses his forehead to his, closing his eyes, exhaling a soft sigh. ]
A sign that all my years of training were not in vain. I always wanted to be strong enough to carry my share of the burdens.
[And he thinks back to all of those nights sneaking out beneath the stars, how late they would stay because Noctis would fall asleep and he wasn't yet strong enough to carry him back — and how proud he was, the first time he was finally old enough and strong enough to manage it.]
You are never a burden. And my arms will always be strong enough to carry you.
[ Noctis exhales softly, looking back at him in surprise. His hand comes to brush his hair off his face softly. ]
You've carried more than your fair share of them.
[ He's shifting in the water, his words caught in his throat as he presses his face to his neck, closing his eyes and seeking comfort. He's trying to put himself back together, and Noctis makes it easier. ]
[He shifts, too, once he senses what Noctis is trying to do, seeking to make the angle a little easier on him as they try to gravitate together despite the barrier of the edge of the tub in the way.]
I don't know that I particularly succeeded. But...I told myself that I needed to trust you. That you knew what you needed, and that I needed to give you the space to pursue it.
[He sighs, softly.]
I trusted that you would be safe, and that you would come home.
[ He says softly, muffled against his neck. Ignis tries, of course -- but if their positions were reversed, Noctis would be worried to death, too. Giving him space had taken a lot of willpower, and Noctis is grateful to him for it. He feels Ignis' sigh more than he hears it, and it's in Ignis that he hides and retreats, it's Ignis that's his home. ]
It was -- it was a lot. Too much.
[ His dad, dying over and over again. ] Everyone's memories, so many of them --
[ Does he tell the truth? Does he tell Ignis what he really saw, what haunts his days, his nights? He closes his eyes, shifting against him. It won't help Ignis, it'll only hurt. After all, Ignis had seen Regis as a surrogate father of sorts as well, hasn't he? ]
I don't wanna talk about that right now.
[ There. He can't bring himself to lie to Ignis either, but he's buying himself time, at least. ]
[He nuzzles against him, seeking purely to be comforting, and lets them stay like that awhile before eventually picking up his head and pressing a kiss to Noct's wiped-clean temple.]
But when you're ready, you know you can tell me.
[He dips his hand into the bathwater, scooping up a small handful, and pours it lightly over Noct's shoulder.]
[ He's moving away and dunking himself in the water, coming out waterlogged and adequately rinsed. He's offering him a small smile, wiping the sopping wet hair out of his face.
This at least cuts down the trouble he's making for Ignis, and it feels nice. ]
Better. I was worried about how I was going to tactfully push you under.
[It's a big help, though, and he dunks his hands into the water to get them wet before reaching for the shampoo bottle and squeezing some into his palm.
It's true, he hasn't done this for Noct in years and years, since they were children and Noctis still had chocobo- and moogle-shaped toys floating with him in the bathtub, but reliving that bit of nostalgia now seems...fitting, in the wake of the awful memories they'd relieved together recently.
He works his fingers into Noct's hair, using confident circular motions that lightly scratch at his scalp and coat each strand of hair in smooth lather.]
[ Any moment now, Noctis is going to purr. He's eagerly leaning into Ignis' skilled fingers, feeling them rub into his scalp in soothing circles, sudsing him up.
He feels like a kid again, together with Ignis, but with one key difference: they aren't, and Noctis gets to reciprocate.
Eyes lidding, he makes a soft moan despite himself, and reaches for his other hand. ]
I'm feeling I should do the same for you too. Show you how good it feels.
[He freezes at the sound that escapes Noct's throat, hand going still for a fraction of a second as his eyes widen just slightly and his breath catches in his mouth. It only lasts a moment, however, before his control reasserts itself, and then he's back to lathering, checking his voice to make sure that his words haven't gone ragged from the reaction.]
Some other time. I'm not the one who just spent days rolling around in the mud.
[Except that then it occurs to him — when Noct is at his moodiest, it's because he feels powerless and impotent, unable to change things outside of his control. So maybe rather than doting on him, protecting him, shielding him...
...Maybe what he needs is an opportunity to succeed at protecting something, himself. Hmm.
He considers this, reflecting on discussions they've had before, and then adds carefully —]
I admit I'm feeling a bit knotty in the shoulders, though, if you'd like to assist me with that once you're out of the tub...
[ Let it be known that Ignis is the ultimate perfect boyfriend, so attuned to what Noctis needs before he even knows that he needs it. Ignis is right; he's at his worst when he feels powerless and impotent, and here Ignis is, flawlessly returning to him some of that ability, letting him have a chance to do something for the one he loves.
He sits up a little, his disappointment at Ignis not letting him wash his hair forgotten. He hasn't quite connected the dots as to why Ignis would offer, but he appreciates it all the same. ]
Really? I mean -- I can totally manage that. I have magic fingers.
[ Funny how something this small would have such a profound effect on his mood. Funny how Ignis makes him feel like he could do just about anything, still. ]
I knew that already — every time we stopped at an elemental deposit. Lightning fingers, ice fingers, flame fingers...
[It's a weak joke, maybe, but it's enough of one that it makes him smile, and he digs in a little more emphatically to Noct's hair with renewed purpose. He'd meant for this to be a lengthy, relaxing sort of bath, but Noct seems more excited about the prospect of getting to dote on him instead, so perhaps the right tack is instead to hurry things along.]
I'd be so appreciative, though. All that tension gets difficult after awhile.
[ Noctis must have really worried him. And while he enjoys having Ignis dote on him, he likes the idea of doing the same to Ignis, too -- especially when he has a lot to make up for. He supposes he would be worried sick, too, if Ignis had gone off by himself and left just a note. He wants to make it up to him, and he makes a soft, appreciative little noise at the enthusiasm with which he washes his hair, snorting at that remark. ]
The best fingers.
[ Noctis is sure to tell him, rinsing off when Ignis is done with sudsing it up, and he's leaning over to kiss him softly, chaste and full of gratitude and affection. ]
[Again, Ignis finds himself at something of a crossroads — one that pits his immediate, instinctive reaction against a lengthier, more thoughtful notion. Instinct bids him to fluster, of course, and to step back a little to figurative arm's length. But this is far from the first time that Noctis has floated that sort of idle suggestion, and perhaps that ought to be a sign to Ignis that Noct is clearly thinking about an escalation of...well, all this — so why isn't he?
It's worthy of further thought, and so he tempers his kneejerk reaction, buying himself a few extra moments with smoothing Noct's wet hair back away from his face as he considers.]
I'd like that, I think.
[His tone is thoughtful, contemplative, as he genuinely does think his way through it.]
I'd like to go a little further with you than we have before, once you're out of the tub. If you're of a mood for it.
Oh. Noctis hadn't thought things through when he'd asked him to join him next time -- but instinct and affection had pushed it, the fact that he's ready for more with him, that he wants it, and clearly so does Ignis.
His heart skips a beat at Ignis' thoughtful response -- where Noctis had always gone with instinct and gut feeling, putting less thought and care into his words than Ignis, the other so perfectly complements him. ]
Yeah -- I mean, yeah. I'd like that.
[ He says hurriedly, lest Ignis thinks his hesitation has anything to do with not wanting it rather than his brain shorting out with that spike of lust. ]
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He's acutely aware of the fact that he, too, is in desperate need of a bath; one isn't clean after a few days in the wild, and so Noctis lingers in the doorway when he finds him, reluctant to get too close. It's on the tip of his tongue to apologise if Ignis has worried for him, if his sudden departure had caused distress, but he really had needed that time away, the days alone just to work off the worst of it.
He's not necessarily the poster boy of all that's good and perfect, but he's holding it together, and maybe that's all anyone really needs to do. ]
I'm home.
[ He says softly. He'd be back, like he promised Ignis in the short, curt going away note. He doesn't come closer, self-conscious of his own state of mess. He feels like a hundred years old and a thousand sorrows deep, whatever the hell that means, but he's glad to see Ignis again. ]
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Now, it seems, that time has come. He wants to jump to his feet, to run to him and take him in his arms — filth be damned — but he makes himself go slowly instead, soft like the tone that Noctis has chosen, and draws near to have a look at him.]
And with a fine layer of dirt on you, I see. I can draw you a bath, if you like.
[He reaches into his pocket, finding a handkerchief, and uses it to wipe off Noct's cheek (don't think about the blood don't think about the blood it's not his blood don't think about the blood) so that he can bend, shakily, to touch a kiss against it.]
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[ Noctis offers a soft, token protest, self-conscious and shy despite himself. Ignis looks so... so Ignis, a welcome sight for sore eyes and he can't help but soften. It's sweet, how he wipes a little space for him to kiss, and Noctis feels his heart flutter.
Always Ignis, who knows just how to set his heart racing. He can see him, too, just the touch of tremor, and he lightly touches his fingers, not wanting to touch him more when he's this dirty. ]
Okay. We'll talk after I get clean?
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[For a second, he almost interjects something else — a suggestion that he attend Noct while he's in his bath, perhaps — but thinks better of it and nods.
The handkerchief is largely done for without a wash of its own, at this point, so he offers it to Noctis, obligingly.]
Wipe your face and hands, at least. I'll go get the bath started; just come through when you're ready.
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[ He says gratefully, because as far as he's concerned Ignis is doing this in his capacity as boyfriend, and when it doesn't look like memories are going to randomly spill out of him Noctis squeezes his hand.
He takes the handkerchief and wipes himself as best as he can, feeling a pang of guilt at getting the gunk on Ignis' material. So he goes to rinse it out as best as he can at the other sink while the bath runs. He's stripping at one of the enclosed shower corners too -- giving himself a quick rinse, too, to get the worst out before he sits in the bath. He snags one of the thin bathrobes, wrapping it around himself.
He joins him later, brows knitting. ] I think I made a mess of your handkerchief.
[ It must suck; his Ignis has always been a stickler for cleanliness. Do you want to join me? he wants to ask, but refrains. Maybe now isn't the right time. ]
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[Even though the setting and circumstances are admittedly wildly different from life at the Citadel, the habit of running Noct's bath is almost comforting in its familiarity. With practiced ease and deft care, he's managed to get the temperature to just slightly on the hotter side of perfect, to make it last a little longer as it inevitably cools.]
In you go, then. I'll be around if you need anything, and as you said, we can talk when you're finished.
[But he hesitates on the tail end of that thought, like he's silently and quickly debating with himself, and then offers a little more carefully: ]
...Or. You're more than old enough to handle it yourself, of course, but...I could stay, and. And wash your hair for you, if you like.
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[ Noctis says softly, after a moment. He's missed Ignis, missed the gentleness of his comfort and the warmth of his presence.
He does, however, wait until Ignis looks away before he sheds his robe and settles in with a long, slow sigh. It's slightly too warm for him, but it's still good -- he knows it's Ignis' way of making sure he gets a longer time in the bath and he appreciates it.
Reaching out, he takes his hand in his, drawing him closer. ]
Stay with me, Iggy.
[ Those words might have more meaning than just the immediate situation, especially from the way Noctis is looking at him, but he doesn't let on. ]
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[It's easy enough, then, to fold a dry towel and set it on the ground near the edge of the tub, sinking to his knees on it so that he can stay close at hand without the awkwardness of standing up and towering over Noct as he soaks.]
I'm sorry about what you saw. About...the things I remember.
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Don't be sorry. You've carried those for so long.
[ He presses his forehead to his, closing his eyes, exhaling a soft sigh. ]
I'm lucky to have you.
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[And he thinks back to all of those nights sneaking out beneath the stars, how late they would stay because Noctis would fall asleep and he wasn't yet strong enough to carry him back — and how proud he was, the first time he was finally old enough and strong enough to manage it.]
You are never a burden. And my arms will always be strong enough to carry you.
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[ Noctis exhales softly, looking back at him in surprise. His hand comes to brush his hair off his face softly. ]
You've carried more than your fair share of them.
[ He's shifting in the water, his words caught in his throat as he presses his face to his neck, closing his eyes and seeking comfort. He's trying to put himself back together, and Noctis makes it easier. ]
I'm... you were worried, weren't you?
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[He shifts, too, once he senses what Noctis is trying to do, seeking to make the angle a little easier on him as they try to gravitate together despite the barrier of the edge of the tub in the way.]
I don't know that I particularly succeeded. But...I told myself that I needed to trust you. That you knew what you needed, and that I needed to give you the space to pursue it.
[He sighs, softly.]
I trusted that you would be safe, and that you would come home.
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[ He says softly, muffled against his neck. Ignis tries, of course -- but if their positions were reversed, Noctis would be worried to death, too. Giving him space had taken a lot of willpower, and Noctis is grateful to him for it. He feels Ignis' sigh more than he hears it, and it's in Ignis that he hides and retreats, it's Ignis that's his home. ]
It was -- it was a lot. Too much.
[ His dad, dying over and over again. ] Everyone's memories, so many of them --
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[He tips his head a little more, inviting, leaving a sliver more room for Noctis to bury his face in the side of his neck.]
I know you saw my memories. What else did you see?
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[ Does he tell the truth? Does he tell Ignis what he really saw, what haunts his days, his nights? He closes his eyes, shifting against him. It won't help Ignis, it'll only hurt. After all, Ignis had seen Regis as a surrogate father of sorts as well, hasn't he? ]
I don't wanna talk about that right now.
[ There. He can't bring himself to lie to Ignis either, but he's buying himself time, at least. ]
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[He nuzzles against him, seeking purely to be comforting, and lets them stay like that awhile before eventually picking up his head and pressing a kiss to Noct's wiped-clean temple.]
But when you're ready, you know you can tell me.
[He dips his hand into the bathwater, scooping up a small handful, and pours it lightly over Noct's shoulder.]
Shall we get you clean, then?
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[ He's moving away and dunking himself in the water, coming out waterlogged and adequately rinsed. He's offering him a small smile, wiping the sopping wet hair out of his face.
This at least cuts down the trouble he's making for Ignis, and it feels nice. ]
Better?
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[It's a big help, though, and he dunks his hands into the water to get them wet before reaching for the shampoo bottle and squeezing some into his palm.
It's true, he hasn't done this for Noct in years and years, since they were children and Noctis still had chocobo- and moogle-shaped toys floating with him in the bathtub, but reliving that bit of nostalgia now seems...fitting, in the wake of the awful memories they'd relieved together recently.
He works his fingers into Noct's hair, using confident circular motions that lightly scratch at his scalp and coat each strand of hair in smooth lather.]
How does that feel?
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He feels like a kid again, together with Ignis, but with one key difference: they aren't, and Noctis gets to reciprocate.
Eyes lidding, he makes a soft moan despite himself, and reaches for his other hand. ]
I'm feeling I should do the same for you too. Show you how good it feels.
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Some other time. I'm not the one who just spent days rolling around in the mud.
[Except that then it occurs to him — when Noct is at his moodiest, it's because he feels powerless and impotent, unable to change things outside of his control. So maybe rather than doting on him, protecting him, shielding him...
...Maybe what he needs is an opportunity to succeed at protecting something, himself. Hmm.
He considers this, reflecting on discussions they've had before, and then adds carefully —]
I admit I'm feeling a bit knotty in the shoulders, though, if you'd like to assist me with that once you're out of the tub...
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[ Let it be known that Ignis is the ultimate perfect boyfriend, so attuned to what Noctis needs before he even knows that he needs it. Ignis is right; he's at his worst when he feels powerless and impotent, and here Ignis is, flawlessly returning to him some of that ability, letting him have a chance to do something for the one he loves.
He sits up a little, his disappointment at Ignis not letting him wash his hair forgotten. He hasn't quite connected the dots as to why Ignis would offer, but he appreciates it all the same. ]
Really? I mean -- I can totally manage that. I have magic fingers.
[ Funny how something this small would have such a profound effect on his mood. Funny how Ignis makes him feel like he could do just about anything, still. ]
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[It's a weak joke, maybe, but it's enough of one that it makes him smile, and he digs in a little more emphatically to Noct's hair with renewed purpose. He'd meant for this to be a lengthy, relaxing sort of bath, but Noct seems more excited about the prospect of getting to dote on him instead, so perhaps the right tack is instead to hurry things along.]
I'd be so appreciative, though. All that tension gets difficult after awhile.
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The best fingers.
[ Noctis is sure to tell him, rinsing off when Ignis is done with sudsing it up, and he's leaning over to kiss him softly, chaste and full of gratitude and affection. ]
Maybe next time... you'll join me in here.
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It's worthy of further thought, and so he tempers his kneejerk reaction, buying himself a few extra moments with smoothing Noct's wet hair back away from his face as he considers.]
I'd like that, I think.
[His tone is thoughtful, contemplative, as he genuinely does think his way through it.]
I'd like to go a little further with you than we have before, once you're out of the tub. If you're of a mood for it.
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Oh. Noctis hadn't thought things through when he'd asked him to join him next time -- but instinct and affection had pushed it, the fact that he's ready for more with him, that he wants it, and clearly so does Ignis.
His heart skips a beat at Ignis' thoughtful response -- where Noctis had always gone with instinct and gut feeling, putting less thought and care into his words than Ignis, the other so perfectly complements him. ]
Yeah -- I mean, yeah. I'd like that.
[ He says hurriedly, lest Ignis thinks his hesitation has anything to do with not wanting it rather than his brain shorting out with that spike of lust. ]
Wait for me? I'll dry off and get out.
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