[ He does laugh this time, loud and open, like he used to over ten years ago, like Noctis is reteaching him how to do now. Noctis climbs up on top of him like a particularly determined octopus, hands everywhere and Ignis does his best to try and return it, stroking his hand down the line of Noctis' spine, cupping his ass appreciatively. The hand between his own legs gets a low, throaty little groan of approval. ]

It's a good name. [ Better, because it's Noctis' mixed with his, just in the way that his sounds better when mixed with Noctis.

The glasses are settled off to the side and Ignis stretches languidly underneath him, just because he can, his hands obediently going to divest himself of his sweats. They pool on the ground in a pile and for once he makes no attempts to try and fetch them again. ] Noctis, I brought you croissants.

[ He pronounces it with that extra little flourish, the same way that he does just because it makes Prompto laugh and call him pretentious. A quick glance at them reveals they're no longer crisp and buttery but soaked in his coffee. ]

Move that off of the bed or I won't let you do anything to me in the near future.