[His breath hitches, just a little, and he moves to press their mouths together, wanting to swallow every one of Noct's little moans and keep them all for himself. There's a natural endpoint to this, he knows, and they're picking up speed toward it; if he wanted to stop, the time to do it would be soon and the window to accomplish it narrowing with every passing second.
But he doesn't want to stop. He doesn't. Noctis is home again, and Ignis is selfish, and right now all he wants is to love him as hard as he can in every way that he can.]
[ Noctis is more breathless than Ignis is, impossibly charmed by him and so swept away in love that he cannot help but kiss him back, hungry and passionate and wanting more.
Ignis makes him feel good, and so he shifts, boldly sliding his hand down past the waistband of his pants, taking care not to scare him away. Ignis is as new to this as Noctis is, and he steals another kiss, and another. His fingers curl over between his legs, tentatively rubbing him through the fabric. He takes it slow despite how hungry he is, eyes lidded. ]
[Noctis needs this, he reminds himself silently, as the sudden urge to respond in kind threatens to overtake him, and he has to actively work to quell it. Even in a moment like this, he wants to serve, wants to slip back into his old familiar habits of needing to please.
But he also knows that what Noctis needs right now is to do this for him. He needs to be in control, needs to see the fruits of his efforts reflected in the passion written into Ignis's expression. Noctis needs to see that he does make Ignis happy, that there is so much more that yields from his choices and actions than heartache and death.
So he doesn't reach for Noctis. He doesn't move to reciprocate, or try to match him. Paradoxically, he simply lets his head fall back and enjoys this, and lets Noctis see each and every second of it.]
[ Ignis Scientia, his love -- the man who knows him even better than he knows himself, who already understands what he needs and is giving it to him.
His heart soars when Ignis looks like he's enjoying it,when he lets his head fall back and he takes what Noctis offers. He doesn't feel like so much of a failure now, that at least something good, something pure is coming out of this choice.
He nips at his neck now, and then takes the risk, boldly sliding his hand inside his trousers, startled by how... different Ignis feels when he wraps his hand around his length, new and inexperienced and eager to please. ]
Oh.
[ Also, he's never touched him here before -- this is new. ]
[He means the nipping, probably, but there's so much to process at this point, and it's hard to hold himself back, forcing himself to simply let himself feel. But he lets his head fall to one side, baring more of his neck to Noctis's attentions, showing him the pale expanse of skin in open invitation.]
[ Noctis echoes softly, taking his hand out of his pants to do it again, to kiss and suck and nip, drawing a vivid, almost painful lovebite under his collar; Noctis' most possessive one yet.
He's kissing his throat again, lavishing attention over it before nosing against him and inflicting another, and another, a trio of lovebites right under where his collar will chafe. ]
[He groans softly at the loss of contact when Noctis moves his hand away, but it's disappointment that quickly shifts into approval with the feeling of teeth sinking into his skin. It's apparent from the moment he feels the sting of the bite that he'll be wearing these for quite some time; the bruising feels almost instantaneous, even if he knows that isn't necessarily the reality, and his head is already spinning with notions of what he'll see when he looks at himself in the mirror tomorrow.]
There, now.
[He sucks in a shuddery breath, opening his eyes to gaze at Noct glassy-eyed.]
[ Those gorgeous green eyes; his Ignis is stunning, so young and so open when he's like this, surrendering to him. He likes that Ignis accepts what he gives, and he spares a few seconds to admire just how lovely his marks are, how Ignis will wear them for just about forever. ]
You're happy to be mine, right...? You want to be?
[ Silly question, he knows, but Noctis wants to know. ] Because every time I see you, I want you so badly, all over again.
[He reaches up, hooking a hand behind Noct's neck to pull him down for a kiss. He's not sure if that's the conception of the answer that Noctis really wants to hear, but it's the one he can't help but start with, no matter the circumstance, because it's true. He has been shaped and defined by this love he holds, has built everything he is upon that unshakeable foundation. He belongs to Noctis, and he wouldn't know who he is without him — it's as simple as that.]
I do. I want to be yours — I've always wanted to be yours — more than anything.
[ He gives him a wicked little smile, cupping his face so that he can kiss him again, again and again, hand sliding down over his chest to feel the beat of his heart. He loves the assurance in Ignis' voice, loves that he isn't just pushing his own feelings onto Ignis, that he isn't saying this just for the sake of serving him.
Then -- ] Mm, c'mon, touch me. [ He doesn't want this encounter to simply be proving a point; he wants it to be about a mutual exchange, meeting each other halfway. ]
Easier said than done, when you're on top of me...
[He's teasing, though, and he starts to walk his fingertips up Noct's sides as he's bidden to move them, hesitating at the narrow part of his waist as something occurs to him.]
...May I touch your back?
[He asks softly, the inquiry careful. It's not something he's willing to do without permission, but he also doesn't think it's a request outside his right to ask, given the givens.]
[ Yes, well, Noctis feels his cheeks go pink, but then Ignis asks that of him so sweetly that he realizes how he's never allowed anyone near it, not even Ignis, for the longest time. It's not that he's ashamed of it -- okay, not mostly -- but the scars still bother him, remind him of when he had been too weak and powerless to do anything and had lost people he loved anyway.
But this time, it's different. This time, he will be strong enough to protect those he loves, and he catches his wrist, guiding him up under his shirt, right to the scars. It makes him shiver, just a little. ]
Yeah. Yeah, it's great. [ And then it occurs to him -- will Ignis think it's gross? Will he think it's unsightly? ]
[He realizes, of course, what a privilege he's being granted as he runs his fingers up the small of Noct's back until they're tracing lightly over the scars they both know are there, the ones he's never been permitted to touch. They're old wounds now, albeit ones he knows still plague Noctis sometimes, and he's almost reverent in the way he explores the ridges and valleys of them by touch, learning the patterns he's only ever seen from a distance before, covering over old memories of slashing claws and terror with gentleness and affection.]
My Noct.
[They took him away to Tenebrae and said he'd be better again when he came back, that he'd be the way he used to be, and they were wrong.]
I loved you even back then, I think. Before I even really knew what love was.
[ Noctis says softly, looking into Ignis' eyes. It feels... good, having Ignis touch him like this. It feels right and proper, even if he's nervous about it. But this is good. Being loved by Ignis like this is good. ]
And how you almost threw a week-long tantrum when you -- when I was different.
[ He admits softly. He'd never told him that he'd heard of it, that little Ignis had been steely-eyed and mad at them for being wrong, and he can't help but press his forehead against his chest, laughing softly. ]
I remember, Iggy. I remember when it was all they could do to appease you. I just --
[He remembers, of course. He must've been just ten or so, barely on the cusp between adulthood and young adolescence, old enough to understand while still young enough to be incapable of accepting it. He remembers trying everything to reach Noctis, remembers being waylaid at every turn because he'd thought his attempts were subtler than they really were. He remembers.
He remembers.]
You were mine, even then. And it felt like they were taking you away from me.
[ A lifetime ago, and Noctis had been both worried and warmed and exhausted. His Ignis, who had been so mad on his behalf, and yet still so young. He sobers up, stroking his face, leaning down to kiss his cheek, his lips softly. ]
You were too young, Iggy. They shouldn't have put it all on you when you were so young.
[ Such a heavy responsibility on those little shoulders, when he had been a child himself, too, so very young and innocent and unable to process what was happening. ]
[One time you won't, he almost says aloud, until he catches himself and thinks better of it. This isn't the time for thoughts like that, not when Noctis has only just returned from a retreat into the woods to escape such things.
If he tries hard, he can pretend that he doesn't know better. He can pretend that what Noct is saying is true, and that he has no reason to doubt it. Noctis will always come back to him, even when he sits the throne of his ancestors and dies to return light to the world. Noctis will always come back to him, even if in the interim he orders him to stay behind.
But maybe —
Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't end with the return of the dawn. Maybe...impossible as it is, maybe Noctis will find a way to make that promise come true, after all.
It's a silly, whimsy, childhood fallacy. People don't come back from the dead, and Ignis knows it.
...
Except that Lunafreya did. Even in death, the Oracle's work is not done, Ravus had said, and —
If the Oracle, then why not the King of Light?]
Promise me.
[His lips feel dry, his eyes soft, his fingers cold. But Noctis is safe in his arms, and for this one moment, he's willing to believe.]
Promise me you'll always come back to me. And if you do I promise to believe you.
[ People don't come back from the dead, and the look in Ignis' eyes gives it all away. People don't come back from the dead, and there will be one day where Noctis will break his promise to him. He doesn't want to -- he really doesn't want to die. He wants to go home to Ignis, Gladio and Prompto, he wants to run his kingdom and build it back up for his people.
There are so many things he wants, and he can't help a pang of bittersweetness at Ignis' question, so open and heartwrenching that he can't help but close his eyes briefly, trying so hard not to think about it. So much has changed between them, and Noctis, oh, how he loves him with all his heart, how it will hurt to leave Ignis behind, on his own.
He feels his heart tighten, and he grasps his chin, makes Ignis look up at him. ] I will. I'll always come back to you no matter what, I promise.
[ And he means every word of it. He kisses his lips softly once, then again, swallowing hard. ]
[He lets one of his hands slip free, reaching up to take the one Noct is using to grasp his chin, and eases it away from his face in favor of lacing their fingers together, one by one. He goes slowly, letting Noctis feel each smooth slide of their fingers weaving together in turn, until their hands are fully clasped like a bond, like a promise.]
I'll expect you, every time.
[He smiles, softly, and gives Noct's hand a squeeze.]
[ The back of his eyes sting with unshed tears, and not for the first time he thinks of what Ignis would feel like, lonely and left behind if Noctis goes, and it breaks his heart anew.
But it has to be done, right?
Their hands clasp and curl together, and Noctis feels a lump in his throat he has to choke down, making a soft noise as something in him gives way, and he buries his face in his neck, a light tremble in his frame. He has to be strong, he must be -- but this is his Ignis, who loves him no matter what. I'll wait for you, every time. ]
I love you.
[ He croaks, soft and thin, as if these little words would keep the darkness at bay and return his life to him, cancel out the need for a sacrifice. ] I love you so much. I don't want to leave you.
[He doesn't let go of Noctis's hand. The hand that had remained on his back comes up to wrap around him, shifting from affectionate to outright protective as he gathers Noct close and holds him tight, finding the leverage to roll them both over so that it's Noct on his back against the mattress, and Ignis looking down over him with soft, steady eyes.]
To take you now, they would have to tear you from my arms.
[You're safe, he tries to express in every way he can, words and tone and body language. You're safe, you're safe, you're safe.]
I'm right here. And so are you.
[And then he breathes in, and summons his courage, and whispers a phrase that rattles him to his very core.]
Please just cry, if you need to. Trust me to keep you safe while you do.
[ He's right here with Noctis, and he cannot ask for more -- Ignis has always been right by his side, for better or worse, loyal and unwavering, and Noctis curls tighter against him, his own desire taking a backseat in the wake of all the emotions that their joining has inspired. It makes him ache, this echoing pain, this knowledge that he's going to die young and likely never get the chance to do what others can do all their lives.
And when he looks up into Ignis' eyes, when his hand comes up to curve over his face, he swallows hard. Is it worth it? He doesn't know. It has to be, right? And now he's asking him to just cry, and Noctis bites his lip, holding back before he cracks a weak joke. ]
What, you want me to cry when I'm making out with you?
You can tell everyone it's because I'm a bad kisser.
[A weak joke with equally weak humor in response, but he leans into Noct's hand and continues watching him seriously, tracking the way that Noct's defenses are slowly breaking down and knowing that with just a little more push, just a little more coaxing, they might reach the point where he can break his walls open after all.]
Please, Noct. For me? Just...let them out.
[That torrent of emotions he knows is inside, that he can see hidden in Noct's wobbling expression.]
[ Noctis protests, soft and quiet. He's frowning, because he's too proud for that, because this is asking too much too quickly, when Noctis has always wanted to put on a strong front for him. Ignis worries, and the last thing he wants to do is add more burdens onto him.
Maybe he'll try again, maybe the next time around will be much better. He's still clinging to what's left of his walls, even if they're cracking, even as he grips Ignis tight and feels the hot stinging of tears he so desperately pushes back. ]
[He holds him, carefully, making the tiniest of adjustments to the way that they're positioned to more securely pin Noctis to the mattress — ever seeking to help him feel safe, shielded from the world between a soft place and the familiar strength of Ignis's body.
He knows better than to push, though; if his coaxing wasn't enough to bring Noct's walls down, then he's not going to keep assailing them. Noctis knows what he needs, and the pace at which he needs to take this. It would be antithetical to seeking to comfort him, to try to push him out of his comfort zone in a moment like this.]
It's been a hard time for you, lately. Come here, and let me kiss you.
[It's a gently offered out, a means of escape. Kissing is easy, and doesn't have to involve heartbreak.]
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no subject
[His breath hitches, just a little, and he moves to press their mouths together, wanting to swallow every one of Noct's little moans and keep them all for himself. There's a natural endpoint to this, he knows, and they're picking up speed toward it; if he wanted to stop, the time to do it would be soon and the window to accomplish it narrowing with every passing second.
But he doesn't want to stop. He doesn't. Noctis is home again, and Ignis is selfish, and right now all he wants is to love him as hard as he can in every way that he can.]
I love you, you know.
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[ Noctis is more breathless than Ignis is, impossibly charmed by him and so swept away in love that he cannot help but kiss him back, hungry and passionate and wanting more.
Ignis makes him feel good, and so he shifts, boldly sliding his hand down past the waistband of his pants, taking care not to scare him away. Ignis is as new to this as Noctis is, and he steals another kiss, and another. His fingers curl over between his legs, tentatively rubbing him through the fabric. He takes it slow despite how hungry he is, eyes lidded. ]
Wanna... make you happy.
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[Noctis needs this, he reminds himself silently, as the sudden urge to respond in kind threatens to overtake him, and he has to actively work to quell it. Even in a moment like this, he wants to serve, wants to slip back into his old familiar habits of needing to please.
But he also knows that what Noctis needs right now is to do this for him. He needs to be in control, needs to see the fruits of his efforts reflected in the passion written into Ignis's expression. Noctis needs to see that he does make Ignis happy, that there is so much more that yields from his choices and actions than heartache and death.
So he doesn't reach for Noctis. He doesn't move to reciprocate, or try to match him. Paradoxically, he simply lets his head fall back and enjoys this, and lets Noctis see each and every second of it.]
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His heart soars when Ignis looks like he's enjoying it,when he lets his head fall back and he takes what Noctis offers. He doesn't feel like so much of a failure now, that at least something good, something pure is coming out of this choice.
He nips at his neck now, and then takes the risk, boldly sliding his hand inside his trousers, startled by how... different Ignis feels when he wraps his hand around his length, new and inexperienced and eager to please. ]
Oh.
[ Also, he's never touched him here before -- this is new. ]
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[He means the nipping, probably, but there's so much to process at this point, and it's hard to hold himself back, forcing himself to simply let himself feel. But he lets his head fall to one side, baring more of his neck to Noctis's attentions, showing him the pale expanse of skin in open invitation.]
Just — below the collar, please —
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[ Noctis echoes softly, taking his hand out of his pants to do it again, to kiss and suck and nip, drawing a vivid, almost painful lovebite under his collar; Noctis' most possessive one yet.
He's kissing his throat again, lavishing attention over it before nosing against him and inflicting another, and another, a trio of lovebites right under where his collar will chafe. ]
no subject
There, now.
[He sucks in a shuddery breath, opening his eyes to gaze at Noct glassy-eyed.]
Is there no mistaking I'm yours, now?
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[ Those gorgeous green eyes; his Ignis is stunning, so young and so open when he's like this, surrendering to him. He likes that Ignis accepts what he gives, and he spares a few seconds to admire just how lovely his marks are, how Ignis will wear them for just about forever. ]
You're happy to be mine, right...? You want to be?
[ Silly question, he knows, but Noctis wants to know. ] Because every time I see you, I want you so badly, all over again.
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[He reaches up, hooking a hand behind Noct's neck to pull him down for a kiss. He's not sure if that's the conception of the answer that Noctis really wants to hear, but it's the one he can't help but start with, no matter the circumstance, because it's true. He has been shaped and defined by this love he holds, has built everything he is upon that unshakeable foundation. He belongs to Noctis, and he wouldn't know who he is without him — it's as simple as that.]
I do. I want to be yours — I've always wanted to be yours — more than anything.
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[ He gives him a wicked little smile, cupping his face so that he can kiss him again, again and again, hand sliding down over his chest to feel the beat of his heart. He loves the assurance in Ignis' voice, loves that he isn't just pushing his own feelings onto Ignis, that he isn't saying this just for the sake of serving him.
Then -- ] Mm, c'mon, touch me. [ He doesn't want this encounter to simply be proving a point; he wants it to be about a mutual exchange, meeting each other halfway. ]
no subject
[He's teasing, though, and he starts to walk his fingertips up Noct's sides as he's bidden to move them, hesitating at the narrow part of his waist as something occurs to him.]
...May I touch your back?
[He asks softly, the inquiry careful. It's not something he's willing to do without permission, but he also doesn't think it's a request outside his right to ask, given the givens.]
Would it be all right?
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But this time, it's different. This time, he will be strong enough to protect those he loves, and he catches his wrist, guiding him up under his shirt, right to the scars. It makes him shiver, just a little. ]
Yeah. Yeah, it's great. [ And then it occurs to him -- will Ignis think it's gross? Will he think it's unsightly? ]
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[He realizes, of course, what a privilege he's being granted as he runs his fingers up the small of Noct's back until they're tracing lightly over the scars they both know are there, the ones he's never been permitted to touch. They're old wounds now, albeit ones he knows still plague Noctis sometimes, and he's almost reverent in the way he explores the ridges and valleys of them by touch, learning the patterns he's only ever seen from a distance before, covering over old memories of slashing claws and terror with gentleness and affection.]
My Noct.
[They took him away to Tenebrae and said he'd be better again when he came back, that he'd be the way he used to be, and they were wrong.]
I loved you even back then, I think. Before I even really knew what love was.
no subject
[ Noctis says softly, looking into Ignis' eyes. It feels... good, having Ignis touch him like this. It feels right and proper, even if he's nervous about it. But this is good. Being loved by Ignis like this is good. ]
And how you almost threw a week-long tantrum when you -- when I was different.
[ He admits softly. He'd never told him that he'd heard of it, that little Ignis had been steely-eyed and mad at them for being wrong, and he can't help but press his forehead against his chest, laughing softly. ]
I remember, Iggy. I remember when it was all they could do to appease you. I just --
no subject
[He remembers, of course. He must've been just ten or so, barely on the cusp between adulthood and young adolescence, old enough to understand while still young enough to be incapable of accepting it. He remembers trying everything to reach Noctis, remembers being waylaid at every turn because he'd thought his attempts were subtler than they really were. He remembers.
He remembers.]
You were mine, even then. And it felt like they were taking you away from me.
no subject
You were too young, Iggy. They shouldn't have put it all on you when you were so young.
[ Such a heavy responsibility on those little shoulders, when he had been a child himself, too, so very young and innocent and unable to process what was happening. ]
But you know I always come back, right? To you.
no subject
If he tries hard, he can pretend that he doesn't know better. He can pretend that what Noct is saying is true, and that he has no reason to doubt it. Noctis will always come back to him, even when he sits the throne of his ancestors and dies to return light to the world. Noctis will always come back to him, even if in the interim he orders him to stay behind.
But maybe —
Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't end with the return of the dawn. Maybe...impossible as it is, maybe Noctis will find a way to make that promise come true, after all.
It's a silly, whimsy, childhood fallacy. People don't come back from the dead, and Ignis knows it.
...
Except that Lunafreya did. Even in death, the Oracle's work is not done, Ravus had said, and —
If the Oracle, then why not the King of Light?]
Promise me.
[His lips feel dry, his eyes soft, his fingers cold. But Noctis is safe in his arms, and for this one moment, he's willing to believe.]
Promise me you'll always come back to me. And if you do I promise to believe you.
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There are so many things he wants, and he can't help a pang of bittersweetness at Ignis' question, so open and heartwrenching that he can't help but close his eyes briefly, trying so hard not to think about it. So much has changed between them, and Noctis, oh, how he loves him with all his heart, how it will hurt to leave Ignis behind, on his own.
He feels his heart tighten, and he grasps his chin, makes Ignis look up at him. ] I will. I'll always come back to you no matter what, I promise.
[ And he means every word of it. He kisses his lips softly once, then again, swallowing hard. ]
I belong to you after all, right?
no subject
[He lets one of his hands slip free, reaching up to take the one Noct is using to grasp his chin, and eases it away from his face in favor of lacing their fingers together, one by one. He goes slowly, letting Noctis feel each smooth slide of their fingers weaving together in turn, until their hands are fully clasped like a bond, like a promise.]
I'll expect you, every time.
[He smiles, softly, and gives Noct's hand a squeeze.]
And I'll wait for you, every time.
no subject
But it has to be done, right?
Their hands clasp and curl together, and Noctis feels a lump in his throat he has to choke down, making a soft noise as something in him gives way, and he buries his face in his neck, a light tremble in his frame. He has to be strong, he must be -- but this is his Ignis, who loves him no matter what. I'll wait for you, every time. ]
I love you.
[ He croaks, soft and thin, as if these little words would keep the darkness at bay and return his life to him, cancel out the need for a sacrifice. ] I love you so much. I don't want to leave you.
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[He doesn't let go of Noctis's hand. The hand that had remained on his back comes up to wrap around him, shifting from affectionate to outright protective as he gathers Noct close and holds him tight, finding the leverage to roll them both over so that it's Noct on his back against the mattress, and Ignis looking down over him with soft, steady eyes.]
To take you now, they would have to tear you from my arms.
[You're safe, he tries to express in every way he can, words and tone and body language. You're safe, you're safe, you're safe.]
I'm right here. And so are you.
[And then he breathes in, and summons his courage, and whispers a phrase that rattles him to his very core.]
Please just cry, if you need to. Trust me to keep you safe while you do.
no subject
And when he looks up into Ignis' eyes, when his hand comes up to curve over his face, he swallows hard. Is it worth it? He doesn't know. It has to be, right? And now he's asking him to just cry, and Noctis bites his lip, holding back before he cracks a weak joke. ]
What, you want me to cry when I'm making out with you?
no subject
[A weak joke with equally weak humor in response, but he leans into Noct's hand and continues watching him seriously, tracking the way that Noct's defenses are slowly breaking down and knowing that with just a little more push, just a little more coaxing, they might reach the point where he can break his walls open after all.]
Please, Noct. For me? Just...let them out.
[That torrent of emotions he knows is inside, that he can see hidden in Noct's wobbling expression.]
no subject
[ Noctis protests, soft and quiet. He's frowning, because he's too proud for that, because this is asking too much too quickly, when Noctis has always wanted to put on a strong front for him. Ignis worries, and the last thing he wants to do is add more burdens onto him.
Maybe he'll try again, maybe the next time around will be much better. He's still clinging to what's left of his walls, even if they're cracking, even as he grips Ignis tight and feels the hot stinging of tears he so desperately pushes back. ]
Lemme just... I'm so tired.
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[He holds him, carefully, making the tiniest of adjustments to the way that they're positioned to more securely pin Noctis to the mattress — ever seeking to help him feel safe, shielded from the world between a soft place and the familiar strength of Ignis's body.
He knows better than to push, though; if his coaxing wasn't enough to bring Noct's walls down, then he's not going to keep assailing them. Noctis knows what he needs, and the pace at which he needs to take this. It would be antithetical to seeking to comfort him, to try to push him out of his comfort zone in a moment like this.]
It's been a hard time for you, lately. Come here, and let me kiss you.
[It's a gently offered out, a means of escape. Kissing is easy, and doesn't have to involve heartbreak.]
(no subject)