[ When he was younger, he'd always sort of regarded sex with the same kind of disdain and lackluster interest as with camping, or fishing. Gladiolus and Noctis loved the activities, but they were inherently messy and resulted in more trouble than they were worth in Ignis' mind, but he always bore it because they enjoyed it and Ignis' love for them always outweighed his annoyance for messes. Condoms, at least, meant that the mess of sex could be somewhat countered; there was some interest in that when he'd sought out companionship in his teens and early twenties.

Now, he doesn't know what he was thinking. Now, he settles his knees on either side of Noctis' chest carefully, shivering at the touch to his cock as he puts his hands to the headboard and holds firmly. ]

I can feel your come sliding out of me, you know.

[ A fucking mess indeed. Ignis murmurs it distractedly, one hand on the headboard, the other sliding back to push two fingers into himself where he's stretched and slick and open, head falling back, throat working on a harsh little moan as he pushes into Noctis' mouth and then his own fingers unsteadily. ]

It's an appealing thought. You coming in me so many times th-that, nnnhhhh, Noct--

[ Composure lasts through the first orgasm, generally, but all bets are off on the second one where Noctis keeps talking and Ignis' rather inventive imagination fills in all the blanks while his cock is stroked. ]

I was supposed to be working you up to a second orgasm, not letting you ruin me.