do you really need his hands for your passion?

[blindsider]

[ He’s done the one thing Noct asked him not to do.

Before he left, they had a little going-away party. Just him, Noct, Gladio and Prompto, an excuse to sit around eating good food and enjoying each others’ company, nothing very different from how the usually spent weekends other than the fact that Gladio had brought beer. Two was all it had taken for Prompto, pink-cheeked and even chattier than usual, to clap Ignis on the back and say next time we see you you’re gonna be different, I bet! All cool and cosmopolitan! And Noctis had turned to them and don’t so quietly that Ignis almost missed it. He’d said it again, whisper-quiet as he gave Ignis a surprisingly tight hug as he left for his year in Altissia. The crown prince of Lucis had clutched him tight, buried his face in Ignis’ shoulder, and so quietly that Ignis was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it, whispered don’t change.

He hasn’t changed overmuch, he doesn’t think. He’s picked up a few sartorial flourishes, certainly, swapped out his frames and his hairstyle for something that was more contemporary to his Altissian peers. Updated his wardrobe, certainly. But his interests have stayed steadfast: art, literature, cooking, and Noctis. But therein lies the biggest change of all.

For years, he’s wanted Noct. Loved him since they were children, obviously, but it grew and changed and deepened over time, until Noctis was his last thought at night and his first in the morning, until his favourite piece of music was Noct’s husky, boyish laugh, until his favourite work of art was the blue of Noct’s eyes or the beauty mark by his mouth. And over time he’d become sure that Noct returned his affections; reading sweetness into the brush of a hand or the way Noct would lean against him while they watched a movie on his couch as Ignis did paperwork, the way Noct would sometimes look up at him from under his lashes. And so Ignis decided: when they were both graduated, when everything was just as proper as it could be, he’d file all the appropriate requests for clearance and, crownsguard permitting, ask Noctis on a date.

A year in Altissia has scuttled that plan. A year steeped in the complete and utter romance of it, the gondolas and the art and the music, and the happy, beautiful couples at every cafe, gallery, bar, everywhere Ignis looked. No, that plan won’t do at all.

Ignis has changed, and that’s why he shuffles his dates around so that he’ll arrive back in Insomnia just before Noct’s birthday. Before he leaves he buys Noct a gift that is, if he’s honest, inappropriately extravagant – a jacket of buttery-soft leather (Lucian black, of course), stylish but casual enough to fit right in to Noct’s favoured wardrobe. Perhaps not the most romantic gift, but he likes to think of Noct wearing something he chose. And the night before Noct’s birthday (he wouldn’t presume to attempt and hog the day for himself) he resolves to tell Noctis just how he feels. Without making the appropriate applications first. Cor Leonis is a very fine person, but Ignis will not have him know of his feelings for Noct before Noct himself does.

None of this newfound confidence is enough to prevent him from having his heart in his mouth as he knocks on the door to Noct’s apartment, gift box under his arm and a bag of ingredients in his hand, but still. The Ignis of a year ago would have been scandalized.

Here’s hoping Noct isn’t. ]

Comments

[linkstrike]

[ the city isn't the same without ignis in it. life isn't the same without ignis in it.

and it would probably be embarrassing if that wasn't vastly outweighed by how much it sucks -- noctis has already heard a lifetime's worth of ragging from gladio about how he needs to stand on his own two feet, a constant crush of pressure from a country waiting to see if its prince can mature into a king. maybe it should even feel like freedom, having an ocean between him and the person usually responsible for nagging at him to eat his vegetables and pick his clothes up off the floor. but instead? it just sucks.

for what it's worth, noctis does manage to keep his head above water. a small team from the citadel take over a portion of the tasks ignis used to do for him -- someone organizes his calendar, someone else reads and notates reports to be dropped off for him, yet another someone steps in as chauffeur. but the rest, noctis refuses to have anyone else do for him; he has to take prompto with him as a navigator on his first ignis-free trip to the grocery store, and his first attempt at cooking dinner ends with a shrieking smoke detector and a lecture from cor, but he survives.

and it's not like ignis is impossibly out of reach, either. cell reception between insomnia and altissia is spotty at best, but they've taken to writing letters back and forth. ignis talks about the things he's seen, the food he's tried, the places he's visited, and... well, noctis always feels more than a little boring in comparison, but he tries to fill up the pages with stories about customers from his part-time job or light-hearted bits of news or a success he's had with training or school. (makes a point not to let the mantra of i miss you i miss you come home i miss you spill out onto every page, which ends up being the hardest task of all.)

but none of that stops him from counting down the days until ignis is due back home. and by the time they've dwindled down to less than a week, noctis is practically wired with anticipation -- he's a mess in practice with gladio, a jittering bundle of nerves through every council meeting he's forced to attend, and even ends up so scatterbrained through a dinner with his dad that regis starts (not so subtly) trying to pry as to whether noct's social life has made any interesting new additions.

still, the knock at his door? the last person in the world noctis is expecting is the one person he was hoping most to see.

at first, his brain can't even wrap around the fact that it's ignis standing there -- he's left gaping at the new clothes, the glasses, the hair --

but then, before ignis even gets the chance to get a word out, noctis lunges forward to wrap him up into a hug, arms tight around him and face buried in the older man's shoulder. ]

[blindsider]

[ Well!

That's certainly a pleasant surprise, and Ignis does his best to hug back with both hands occupied, deciding on just wrapping his arms around Noct and squeezing while his hands cling to their packages. And oh, but it's good. Noct buries his face in Ignis' shoulder and that puts the soft mess of his hair close enough to brush Ignis' cheek, a sensation that he can't help leaning into. And foolish as it may be, he breathes in deep. Scent tells him Noct has continued to purchase the products Ignis had started getting for him (a conversation that had started with Ignis suggesting Noct move on to a scent more refined than Broadsword body spray and his heart fluttering slightly when Noct had simply said you smell good, you can pick for me) but there's always been something to it that is just Noct, and it has Ignis smiling before he realizes he's doing it. ]

Good evening, Noct. I missed you too.