[ It's funny how even now, hearing Ignis say that to him with that particular purr in his voice can still make Noctis warm and the tips of his ears crimson. He's moving into his hands like it's the most natural thing to do, loving and affectionate as he smiles back at him in return. Handsome, huh. It still feels so good to hear it coming from him. ]

You're weird.

[ But don't stop calling him that, he likes it. He's patiently still under his hands, noting just how considerate Ignis is with everything, elegant and graceful when he shampoos him up, none of the suds getting into his eyes. He's using the washcloth to soap Ignis up in turn, taking good care not to disrupt him the way Ignis had done from him before, admiring the way the water rolls off his chest, his shoulders, and suppressing the urge to lean in and chase it with his mouth. It'd be soapy and gross, for one. ] You know, I don't think you know just how gorgeous you are. [ He says absently, gently rubbing the cloth up his stomach, dipping to his abdomen playfully. ] Or you could just wear leather pants, a tight leather jacket and nothing underneath, and we can see what we can do right here in this bedroom.

[ Heh. ] A bike helmet too, I guess.