[ When they were younger and Ignis was less disciplined, he had hated the idea of earning something based upon arbitrary standards that you couldn't ever fully understand if it wasn't documented. He hated the idea of spontaneity, of things happening without rhyme or reason. Sometimes, if he was good at his studies, he'd be given a surprise like ice cream afterward. There was never any indication as to why and it'd always irritated him fiercely; if he knew why he was being rewarded he could duplicate his actions and that would be that. Instead, he was left guessing.
Who would have thought that twenty years later, Ignis would be squirming on the fingers of his king, his husband to be and absolutely none of this is planned. With the introduction of Noctis into his life, spontaneity had followed. He realized why the teachers and his parents had surprised him with little things rather than letting him grow complacent, because he did the same thing to Noctis. His favorite dessert, a shirt he'd been eyeing at the mall, a thousand little gifts that cost no time or effort, really, but were noticed and Ignis wanted to give them to Noctis because he could. Because love wasn't just about meeting certain goals and checking things off a list; it was messy and strange and raw.
We made it, Ignis thinks, and eases the steady stroke of his hand on Noctis' erection, his free hand sliding up to cup the line of his jaw, stroking affectionately. ] We made it. We made it, we're here, we have a countless number of mornings for me to bring you breakfast in bed, to go to sleep with you and wake up to you in the morning.
[ Ignis presses a flurry of kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his lips. An endless number of mornings to give him small surprises, to make sure that Noctis never doubts that Ignis loves him with everything that he is as a person. ]
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Who would have thought that twenty years later, Ignis would be squirming on the fingers of his king, his husband to be and absolutely none of this is planned. With the introduction of Noctis into his life, spontaneity had followed. He realized why the teachers and his parents had surprised him with little things rather than letting him grow complacent, because he did the same thing to Noctis. His favorite dessert, a shirt he'd been eyeing at the mall, a thousand little gifts that cost no time or effort, really, but were noticed and Ignis wanted to give them to Noctis because he could. Because love wasn't just about meeting certain goals and checking things off a list; it was messy and strange and raw.
We made it, Ignis thinks, and eases the steady stroke of his hand on Noctis' erection, his free hand sliding up to cup the line of his jaw, stroking affectionately. ] We made it. We made it, we're here, we have a countless number of mornings for me to bring you breakfast in bed, to go to sleep with you and wake up to you in the morning.
[ Ignis presses a flurry of kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his lips. An endless number of mornings to give him small surprises, to make sure that Noctis never doubts that Ignis loves him with everything that he is as a person. ]