With an artful flutter, as if on cue

[blindsider]

[ Ignis is, to put it bluntly, buggered.

He has managed his condition since it first developed, when he was studying in Altissia. This was a convenient place for the onset; he was able to go through all the creeping horror of realizing what had happened to him and discover what he needed to do without it impacting on his performance in any way. By the time he’d returned home it was all under control, and while the honourable thing to do would have been to resign his position and never have contact with the royal family again, he can’t bring himself to do it. He’ll never harm Noctis or anyone associated with him, of course, and by this stage he’s so deeply in love with Noct and so devoted that he simply can’t bring himself to do it.

So he manages. It’s actually relatively easy to find a ready source of human blood, and he needs only a very small amount of it to continue performing at a level equal to that he’d always displayed. Easy enough, too, to tidily conceal a number of vials for their road trip, and his tendency to rise before the others means it’s simple enough to mix a little into his morning coffee and have nobody any wiser.

And then, because nothing can go smoothly on this trip, apparently, they get the Regalia back from the Empire and his supply is gone. He should have had Noct stow it in the armiger, really, but the thought that he’d discover it and ask difficult questions was too much. He reasons with himself that all he needs to do is wait until they land somewhere more densely populated and he can find a was to solve the issue discreetly, but that’s proving harder than he imagined. Between attacks and hunts and delays along the way, he feels worse and worse until it’s nearly unbearable. He starts making stupid mistakes in fights, has to leave Noct in charge of driving (it becomes bad enough that eventually he agrees to letting Prompto take the wheel) and every car ride, every night in the tent, every evening clustered around a table together is like torture. He can smell all of them, alive and vital and delicious. They don’t smell like food, not exactly, but with Ignis as prone to compiling recipes based on tasting similarities as he is, he can’t help but make the association. If they were wine Gladio would be a deep, rich Accordan red, Prompto something fresh and crisp like a sauvignon blanc – and Noctis. Oh, Noctis. Ignis had been present for King Regis’ 50th birthday and all the celebrations associated. There had been champagne, a famous vintage that was so prized as to be completely unavailable for purchase; it was only ever given as a gift, and only to the most important figures. It had been the most splendid thing Ignis had ever tasted, and it’s Jetty’s compared to the scent that billows from Noctis.

He cracks when they’re camping one night. Noctis rolls over in his sleep, bringing him painfully close to Ignis and in such a way that his head is tipped back, all the pale glory of his throat revealed, so close Ignis swears he can hear Noct’s pulse. So he flees. Leaves the tent taking only his daggers, leaves the haven. It seems inadvisable to try and drink from a demon, but it takes him a terribly long time to find an animal given the demonic presence in the area. He settles eventually on a rat; disgusting, yes, but al least not cute enough for him to have to look Noctis in the eye and know that his soft, animal-lover’s heart would be wounded by the knowledge of Ignis killing something sweet and trusting. It’s bugger of a thing to catch with his reflexes dulled as they are -

and then he vomits up all the blood in any case, rendering the whole endeavor useless.

His only option is to disappear. It will ache to do, and perhaps when the matter is resolved he can return and apologize, but the thought of it still hurts enough that he returns to the very border of the haven to look at the tent and regret his folly before he goes.

Which is another mistake, because that gives him the opportunity to see Noctis poking his head out of the tent, calling his name, and for Noct to see him in return.

Damn it all. ]

Comments

[linkstrike]

[ how doesn't really matter, does it? which is why he puts it out of his mind as soon as he realizes that the explanation isn't going to help things now. and neither is an apology, which is why he shakes his head when ignis offers it.

instead, he takes a step forward and grabs the other man by the wrist, hands firm and voice steady. ]

If you need blood, then take it. Let me help you, Ignis.

[blindsider]

No.

[ It's simple enough to say, but having Noct come closer, touch him, make that offer - shamefully, it adds a layer of temptation that feels deeper that just the scent of him, the occasional sound of his pulse. I closes his eyes a moment, draws a deep breath - through his mouth. He's not looking to invite more trouble. ]

You're my oldest friend, dearer to me than anyone. You're not food.

[linkstrike]

And you're my oldest friend.

Ignis --

[ he takes another step forward, expression more determined than ever. ]

If there's something I can do to help you, let me. At least until we can get to Luna, until we can find a way to cure you.

[blindsider]

Noct -

[ but it's like the offer has undone him, cast some sort of spell, because Noct steps closer still and to Ignis' great embarrasment, something happens that hasn't happened since those first days in Altissia, when he'd been half out of his mind with pain and hunger and worry, before help had found him. A second of pressure in his gums, and then they're there, out. Fangs, sharp and white, betraying just how much he wants to say yes. He's spent so long denying that it could ever be a possibility that he managed to convince himself he didn't even want to drink from Noctis, and now he's so close, smelling so wonderful, and Ignis is so hungry.

He claps his free hand over his mouth, too late to hide it, and turns his face away regardless. ]

[linkstrike]

[ he doesn't miss the sight of those fangs, but it doesn't scare him. it's ignis, the last person on earth who would ever hurt him, and his new status as a... vampire (?) doesn't change that. if anything, those fangs only confirm how much ignis must be suffering, how hungry he must be to let it slip, and... ]

Ignis. [ softly, reaching up to wrap his fingers around the man's other wrist so that he can tug his hand gently away. ] It's okay. Really.

I'd do anything for you. [ it's been true since they were children, and nothing about what's happened makes that different. ]

[blindsider]

[ Perhaps it's just his imagination, his hunger and the intoxicating smell of Noctis conspiring to make a fool of him, but he could swear he can feel Noct's pulse through his touch. Strong, steady, if perhaps a little fast. He turns his gaze back to Noct's face, which is as heartbreakingly beautiful as always, and shakes his head. ]

I know. I know you would. Don't you see that only makes it worse? The way you smell - I already know. I know that one taste would be enough to fix the need in me forever. Like an animal, like a junkie. And if I ever hurt you, I couldn't live with myself.

[ His eyes are hot, itchy, prickling with tears. Partly the thought of it, and partly the ache of fighting that want, pressing at the borders of everything he is like he's sealed his fate already. ]

[linkstrike]

You wouldn't. Ignis, there's no way you'd ever hurt me, no matter what.

[ and it's stupid, but the way ignis describes it? it's enough to make his heart thump, to make that stupid little crush he's always carried around stir up into butterflies in his stomach. now isn't the time for that, he knows, but... well. the idea of ignis pulling him closer, mouth to his neck?

... it doesn't sound nearly as scary as it probably should. ]

Look -- [ a pause, and then he pulls his daggers from the armiger in a glittering burst of magic. ] If you get carried away or something, I'll warp.

[blindsider]

[ Oh.

It should be a sign that he's lost control, another reason why he absolutely shouldn't even entertain the idea, but Noctis brings up warping, demonstrates his power, and suddenly it seems so reasonable. And it's an unfair advantage, certainly, but Ignis can hear the way Noct's pulse speeds at the thought of it. That in itself is enough to make Ignis feel as if the world is spinning beneath him, because -

he wants it. Noctis wants it.

Ignis leans in, tongue swiping wet and pink over his lip, closer to the pale stretch of Noct's throat - and his eyes slide to the tent, suddenly. Gladio is a notoriously heavy sleeper, but he's also utterly devoted to Noctis, and to keeping him safe. And it would only take him realizing what was happening for Gladio to draw his sword from the armiger and have Ignis' head clean off his shoulders - one of the few things that can kill him now, or so he's told. So he takes a step back, shifts a hand in Noct's grip until he's holding his hand (though closed, rather than with fingers laced the way he'd like. ]

Come with me?

[ He hadn't gone far on his failed quest for... alternate sustenance, but he'd gone far enough to find a little clearing in a grove of trees. It's sheltered, almost musical with the sound of a small stream that runs through it -

and, if he's honest, private. This is likely to be the closest he'll get to being as close to Noct as he's dreamed. He'd like it to feel as if it were just the two of them, if that's the case. ]

[linkstrike]

[ ... oh.

it's... probably not a good idea? not because noctis doesn't trust ignis, but still. neither one of them probably have a full grasp on this, and leaving the other two behind takes away the promise of their help if something does go really wrong. it'd be better to stay close to camp, close to help, but... ]

Sure.

[ his answer is still nearly automatic. and so is the way he squeezes gently around ignis' hand, as if he's pressing reassurance into his touch. it'll be fine! he really does believe, with all of his being, that ignis wouldn't hurt him, no matter what changes he's undergone. and if the impossible happens, if ignis does get carried away, then he can warp his way back to the haven before anything happens. it'll be fine. ] Lead the way.

[blindsider]

It's not far.

[ It's mean to be reassuring, but his relief breaks over him like a wave, and he smiles until he catches himself, remembering the fangs that probably make being smiled at by him a uniquely unpleasant experience, right now. It's easy enough to get it under control - his whole body feels wound tight, tense and coiled as a spring, as he leads Noct to the little grove. It doesn't take long, and it's uneventful enough - he'd learned in his earlier hunt that demons seem either unusually quiet this evening or willing to give him as wide a berth as possible.

Still, when they enter the clearing, he can feel the reality of it, anticipation thrumming through his body and his throat seemingly clenched tight as a fist with concern. He turns to Noct, still holding his hand, worry knitting his brow. ]

I haven't - I've never taken blood straight from the source, so to speak. I can leave you a moment if you want to mix a little into a drink?

[ He could. He should. But he's wanted his mouth against the Prince's neck since long before any of this, and he can't shake the image of it, the desire. ]

[linkstrike]

[ oh.

honestly, he hadn't even thought about that -- in all his pop culture knowledge of vampires, they always did the deed with a bite to the neck. the idea of mixing some into a drink is... way more clinical, and probably safer, but he won't deny the little pang of disappointment at the idea that maybe ignis doesn't want to be so close. still! he's the one with the weird vampire problem, and noctis is only here to help, so it feels wrong to start making demands about how this is done. ]

Would that, uh, be better? I don't exactly have a ton of... [ a little laugh, trying to hide the jangle of nerves. ] ... donation experience.

[blindsider]

No.

[ He says it far too quickly, given he's had no experience of doing it any other way, but he knows. He knows it the same way he knows that Noct's blood is something special, knows it the same way he knows he'll never love anyone the way he loves Noct, no matter what happens. Still, he shakes his head and looks at least a little abashed. ]

Not that I have a basis for comparison. I only mean to say that there's no need for you to do anything that will make this more uncomfortable for you than it must already be.

[linkstrike]

[ even more oh.

the speed at which ignis answers is enough to send another one of those dumb flutters through his system, heat rushing to his cheeks and heart skipping a beat in his chest. it's a weird thing to be pleased about, but... all of this is pretty weird, so what the hell. ]

Nah, it's cool. [ did that sound cool? he really hopes so. ] We can do it the old-fashioned way.

Might as well get the whole Dracula experience, right? Too bad you don't have a cape.

[blindsider]

[ It probably would sound cool, if Ignis wasn't distracted by the way the sudden flush of Noct's cheeks makes his mouth water. He swallows hard, thinks about following suit - but playing it cool is probably a lost cause at this point, so instead he lifts and arm until it obscures the lower half of his face as if there's a cape draped over it, and solemnly intones his very best D-movie bleuagh.

It's that or bring up the point that by this logic the traditional attire for Noctis would be a flowing nightgown, and that's probably a topic best avoided.

Joke made, he glances about. There's a rather large rock jutting out of the ground, so he crosses to it and sits, back leaned against it, attempting to look casual. ]

Best if we sit, I think.

[linkstrike]

[ it's the last thing noctis is expecting in the middle of a moment that feels so serious, and... that's why the laugh it startles out of him is bright and genuine, even if he tries to stifle it by biting down on the inside of his cheek. it's a confirmation that ignis is still ignis despite everything, and that makes noctis feel like he's made the absolute right choice in doing this. ignis would never, never hurt him -- and if the tides were turned? ignis would be the first in line to offer himself up to help. ]

Good to know they didn't drain the dork out of you, at least.

[ but it's said with affection, and he's more than happy to follow ignis over to that rock and settle into a seat beside him. and then? he reaches out almost shyly to take his hand again, because having that connection feels right. ] Ready?

[blindsider]

[ It helps, really, to see Noctis laugh. Makes it feel less like a sinister deed done in the dark and more like a part of their friendship, complicated and convoluted as it is. And then Noct takes his hand again, and Ignis' chest tightens in the most wonderful way that makes him feel warm like he hasn't for weeks. So he squeezes, trying to take a moment just to enjoy the feeling of that closeness even through the clamour of his instincts to bite. ]

Somehow, the answer is both absolutely and not at all.

[ He smiles as he says it though, and angles himself toward Noct in preparation. But it feels... awkward. Wrong, almost. He wants Noctis closer to him, in his arms, and he can't tell how much of that is hunger and how much of it it the feelings he's carried for Noct for years. Still, he's already imposing, so he shuffles a little closer, lays a hand against Noct's neck and his mouth near his throat, close enough to kiss. And oh, he wants to. ]

May I?

[linkstrike]

[ is he ready? yes and no all at once, and it's impossible to tell whether the tangled knot in his stomach is nerves or excitement. especially when ignis shifts closer, mouth close enough to his skin that he can feel the tickle of the other man's breath. his breath hitches, pulse so loud in his ears that he scarcely hears when ignis asks him if he's ready.

but the clasp of their hands is reassuring, and he reminds himself that it's ignis -- ]

Yeah. [ it's soft, breathless. ]

[blindsider]

Alright.

[ It's all he can manage, really, because this close that tremble has started up again and he can feel his resolve crumbling. So much so, in fact, that he allows himself the faintest brush of lips against the curve of Noct's neck before he proceeds.

Then, it's fairly simple. The bite is swift, just the sink of fangs into flesh incredible, and then-

oh. Bliss. He was so, so wrong - Noct's blood isn't like champagne, it's like nothing he ever could have imagined. Rich and wonderful and intoxicating, and he can feel it flowing into him and enlivening him. And almost without any control in the matter, he scoops Noct up and pulls him into his lap, never breaking the seal of his mouth against Noct's throat. ]

[linkstrike]

[ that brush of lips against his throat is so different than the bite he was expecting that it makes his breath hitch, heart leaping up into his throat --

and then ignis bites down, and the feeling of it sends a flare through his system. something like pain and pleasure all at once, enough to send bright sparkling flares dancing across his field of vision. ignis draws him into his arms, into his lap, and noctis is dizzy with it all. swept away, and he grabs a fistful of ignis' blazer just to steady himself. the moan that spills out of him is something helpless, something he's even scarcely aware of, but gods.

if this is what it's like, no wonder all those damsels are swooning over dracula. ]

[blindsider]

[ Even before he hears the moan, Ignis can taste that reaction in Noct's blood - taste the spike of pleasure through him that's such a wonderful surprise in addition to the pain Ignis had expected. A mouthful is already more than he's accustomed to but he can feel all the sharpness he'd lost coming back to him and more. Ironically, he feels more alive than he ever has. He slips a hand up into Noct's hair, cradling the back of his head as he drinks. He's hard, now, but there hardly seems room to be ashamed of it amongst everything he's feeling.

It's enough. More than enough. And he'd been so worried that actually biting someone would turn him into little more than a beast, but it feels as though the opposite is true. This gives him crystal clarity, an awareness beyond what he's ever experienced. He can hear the rustle of the grass as insects move slowly through it, smell the difference in the foliage of the types of trees that surround them - so the feeling of Noctis this close, warm and sweet, is better than anything. He should stop, but he can't bear the thought of it ending so soon - slows, instead, until the blood he's taking isn't in great needy swallows but the slow movement of his tongue against the pinprick points in Noct's throat, and keeps his prince clutched close. ]

[linkstrike]

[ it's almost like being asleep. well, no -- it's more like dreaming while he's still awake, caught up in some wonderful spell while still being aware of everything that's happening. even the smallest touch feels electric; ignis' hand sliding through his hair is enough to draw a little gasp out of him, and the slow licks of ignis' touch against his throat have his blood running hot.

it's only then that he notices he's hard, but he's lulled into too much of a dreamy state to even feel embarrassed by it. he's forgotten entirely about his plan to summon a weapon from the armiger and escape -- right now, he'd be more than happy to keep his neck bared and let this go on forever. ]

Ignis...

[blindsider]

[ It's wonderful. He can feel the pleasure in Noct in something that's more expansive than taste, now, as if it's flowing into him instead of the blood that he's now taking by mere drops. It floods him, taking over; with his thirst slaked nothing is more important than the feeling of Noct's body against his, the sweet sounds he makes, the knowledge that he's enjoying it. Unthinkingly, Ignis presses up against the weight of Noct in his lap, rocks Noct gently against him, and the friction makes him gasp -

which is enough to break the hold of his mouth against Noct's throat. It isn't quite enough to break the spell - the bliss of it is still pulsing through him, and he's not quite himself enough to regret pulling Noct into his lap or indeed remove him. But he does pull back a little, enough to look at Noct's face, searching. ]

[linkstrike]

[ it makes him groan when ignis rocks up against him, the heat of his cock able to be felt even through their clothing. proof that how good this feels is a mutual thing, and... hell, maybe that means they can do it more often. a lot more often.

but just as the thought crosses his mind, ignis pulls away from his throat. it doesn't lift the fog that's hanging heavy over noctis' thoughts, but he does make a little sound of protest --

and maybe that's why, when their eyes meet, it feels as natural as anything to lean up and press their mouths hungrily together. he can taste his own blood on ignis' mouth, and that really should be gross, but gods. he's wanted to kiss ignis for so long, and everything pumping through his system just makes it feel so right. ]

[blindsider]

[ Yes. Noct kisses him, hungrily, crushingly, and Ignis returns it with all the urgency he feels. It's something he's craved, dreamed of for years, and while none of those fantasies had included painting Noct's own blood into his mouth with the press of his tongue it's no less magical for it.

He presses up again, rocking his hips up against the weight of Noctis over him, and his hands are at the fastenings of Noct's pants before he realizes what he's doing. And - maybe it's overconfidence from all the power the blood seems to have given him, maybe it's the connection he'd felt as he drank, but he doesn't stop himself. Works at the button and zipper until he can slip his hand in and curl his fingers around Noct's dick. ]

[linkstrike]

[ he'd be embarrassed if he had to admit just how long he's wanted to kiss ignis -- and even if this is nothing like he way he imagined it might go, it's still ridiculously good. ignis deepens the kiss almost immediately, and the hot swipe of his tongue is enough to make noctis whine a greedy noise in return. every bit of that hunger ignis had shown while feeding off him is still present in this kiss, and somehow that just makes it hotter.

more, he wants more --

but then, almost as if he'd spoken the desire out loud, ignis' hand is dipping below the waistband of noctis' shorts and those long fingers are wrapping around his dick. it makes noctis gasp, breaking the kiss with a wet sound as he clutches at ignis like a drowning man. this is all happening so fast -- too fast? -- and there's a part of him that thinks maybe they should pump the brakes here so they can talk the whole thing over, but... gods, it feels good when ignis touches him. it makes it nearly impossible to think, and the way his head is still swimming from having ignis feed off him makes it that much harder. it's so much easier just to fall into it, to rut his hips up greedily into the other man's hand, to let himself have what he's wanted for years. ]

[blindsider]

[ Noct breaks that kiss and Ignis aches with the loss of it, even with the hard heat of Noct's dick in his hand, where he's wanted it for years. Still, it's worth it for the way Noct bucks up into his grip, and Ignis is drunk enough off the feeling Noct's blood gave him and the magic of long-held fantasies realized that he just moves his hand to mimic the hitch of Noct's hips, stroking over him until he finds a slow rhythm. ]

You're so beautiful. You're everything I thought you'd be. More. I've wanted you for years, and I never dreamed you'd be like this.