[ He'd always thought of infidelity as the most painfully boring trope used in movies and books. Either you married someone because you loved them or you didn't, and if you were married to someone you didn't love and it wasn't for duty, then you should do right by them and leave. That's how it works, logically. That's how it should work.

Worse: his dalliance with Aranea was what felt like the affair, despite it being the only thing he's done for himself that hasn't actively almost harmed another relationship. Aranea was simple.

Noctis, closing and locking his door like he owns not just the Citadel but Ignis' space and time too, is not simple.

How long are you going to last, he thinks, and sidesteps before he can be tumbled back onto the bed, before Noctis can strip him out of the last flimsy bit of cloth between them. He gropes for his robe a little unsteadily, a little too quick for it to be refined. It's tugged to his throat, his gaze cutting away the moment Noctis says that with so much warmth and feeling that once, Ignis could have believed it. ]

The only bed you want to be in is mine. That's the difference.

[ Sharper, this time, willing Noctis to be the one to understand so Ignis doesn't have to push. ]

Is this fair to either of us? Answer me. Is this what you want another ten years from now? Shall we continue to sneak around like unruly teenagers hiding from our parents?