[ The problem has never been that he stopped wanting Noctis; he's wanted him as long as he knew what it was to want someone like that and it's never faded. Noctis is gorgeous, and while Ignis knows that he's likely quite biased to think that, it's never stopped him before. Obliging, he tilts his head into the press of fingers and doesn't try to hide the soft noise in the back of his throat when Noctis' hands start working over him. It's enough of a distraction that it takes him a moment to get used to it, breathing shuddering out of him.
Blindly, he reaches for the soap, squinting when he realizes he'll knock something over if he isn't careful and finally grasps it, pouring a generous amount into his hand and groping for a washcloth a moment later.
He's reverent as he works, stroking over the line of Noctis' throat gently, working from his shoulders down, trailing the cloth over his chest and down to his belly before working over his arm, careful not to disrupt him while he's washing his hair. When it's finished, he wrings the cloth out and leans in for a kiss, heedless of soapy hair, smiling against the press of Noctis' lips. ]
You're so easy to worship, it's a wonder I have time to think of anything else.
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Blindly, he reaches for the soap, squinting when he realizes he'll knock something over if he isn't careful and finally grasps it, pouring a generous amount into his hand and groping for a washcloth a moment later.
He's reverent as he works, stroking over the line of Noctis' throat gently, working from his shoulders down, trailing the cloth over his chest and down to his belly before working over his arm, careful not to disrupt him while he's washing his hair. When it's finished, he wrings the cloth out and leans in for a kiss, heedless of soapy hair, smiling against the press of Noctis' lips. ]
You're so easy to worship, it's a wonder I have time to think of anything else.