[ Ignis waits patiently for the call because of course Noctis will call. He promised to call at night and while there's a time difference, Ignis is used to operating at odd hours and it doesn't bother him. The ringtone barely sounds when Ignis thumbs over it and turns video on; he's settled against the bed still, watching the camera with a lazy, warm little smile and there's a glass of wine next to the bed.

Truthfully, this could be enough. He doesn't always need to come to feel fulfilled when they're together and even now, the idea of watching Noctis get himself off while Ignis tells him how to do it would be enough. Being home, being able to touch and taste and worship him in person would be the most ideal, of course, but beggars, choosers. ]

You look lovely.

[ Ignis takes a slow drink of his wine, making a show of it: the way he swallows, throat bobbing, the way he licks over his bottom lip when the red lingers there. Part of him feels ridiculous for it but the rest of him shoves that down, focuses on the way Noctis is looking at him, even through the frankly mediocre camera. This is easier than dwelling on everything before, on nearly losing Noct. This is close enough to a sort of normal that he relaxes into it, sighing as he settles the wine to the side and starts stroking himself again. ]

I do. I remember how well you took it, how eager you were. How good you looked on the floor, on your knees, waiting for me to give you that. Show me your cock, Noct. Show me how much you miss me.