nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ Ah.

That. That's a whole new kettle of fish. Noctis looks surprised for a moment, and a part of him wants to protest, to push -- how can he stand to finally have him back and not do anything about it? How can he sit there so calmly and say something like that to him, like his feelings are a thing that can be turned off on a whim?

He can see the reasoning, it doesn't mean he likes it. ]

So when do you think the right time will be? Is it a unilateral decision or do I get a say in it this time?

I think it's a decision that we make in conjunction with the Council, with the various departments coordinating the release of information for the divorce.

[ He's gentle about it, but there's a firmness to his tone, here. Much as he wishes that they could leave this dinner table and go straight back to his room, there's political implications to keep in mind.

They might have a lot of friends here, but all it takes is one housekeeper to see them, or to see Noctis leaving Ignis' room or vice versa and to say something, then scandal. No, better they avoid that altogether. ]

A few months, most likely.

A few months.

[ He echoes. It's on the tip of his tongue to protest, to challenge that as long as no one sees, that's fine -- it's not like they haven't snuck around before. But he has a point. Noctis owes it to Octavia to make it right, whatever it is. He owes it to Ignis, even though he cannot help his irritation with him, and that unexpected little resentment, once raised, that cannot be quelled.

Ignis fields his catty response with a firm gentleness that Noctis knows he has to heed, but dislikes all the same, and he stabs his chopsticks what's left of his half of his potsticker. Just the idea of having so many people all up in what's supposed to be strictly private leaves him testy despite honourable intentions. He has to do this, there is no other choice. ]

Fine. [ He says at last. ] Do as you like.

[ It's an impossible situation in a lot of ways. It's not what either of them wanted. It's not what either of them anticipated, but maybe that was the problem. Ignis touches fingertips to his chest, stroking over the ring he still wears under his shirt like it's a worrystone and then turns his attention back to Noctis, watching him stab at his meal as if that'll fix things. ]

I'm doing this because it's the easiest option. Not because I like it.

[ Do as you like, as if Ignis isn't telling him this because they both need to know it, to work out another plan if something goes south. Ignis isn't the only one who will be held responsible here. ]

This is to protect you, Noctis, from the potential backlash.

Edited 2018-01-03 11:25 (UTC)

I know.

[ He says finally, after drawing out the silence. He knows. Ignis would always overthink, considering everything from all angles and then some, and Lucis and Noctis has been the better for it. But knowing what he can have and not being able to reach for it is frustrating.

He softens, looking at his mauled potsticker. No, the real problem lies much deeper, and it haunts them, a shadow underlying all their conversations, all that they are to each other. ] We've already lost so much time.

[ Eleven years and counting. ]

[ Ah. Yes, that's... a point. Ignis has thought it over himself, a dozen times. They'll have moments like this where they can justify meetings by Ignis' position. Maybe, if he notices that they're growing more frequently, he'll organize more meetings with the other two, too, just so it doesn't look too odd. ]

I know, Noct.

[ Ignis doesn't dare reach across the table but the temptation is entirely there. They have to draw new lines now; he has to draw new lines now, and he's not sure where physical contact falls. It's a slippery slope. ]

I won't be going anywhere this time, though, and neither will you.

You don't know that.

[ Assumptions like that are the quickest way to disappointment-- after all, hadn't he once thought that Ignis would never leave his side? Maybe the day will come when he will do it again when he decides that this is not he wants; and maybe it'll be sooner than he expects.

He finishes up the potsticker in silence, then the rice. It's a whole new game he has to learn now, and Noctis puts no stock in promises, not anymore. Finally, he adds. ]

Is that all you wanted to discuss?

Edited 2018-01-03 11:46 (UTC)

[ Oh.

Well. He deserves that, doesn't he. Ignis doesn't flinch, but for a moment his face goes that careful, crafted sort of blank that is so useful in politics. It's not quite a dig, but it's close enough and it's certainly merited given the state of things. Ignis inclines his head just a touch, pushing the rest of the potstickers over to Noctis while he finishes off his noodles. ]

I suppose that's fair. No, I think that's a fair summation of everything as it stands so far.

[ Noctis doesn't intend for it to be a dig, but it's what stays -- the uncertainty of his presence, of something that's broken between them that needs fixing. It's not Ignis' fault, not really. Or rather, it's both their faults, and it still hurts. When is the next time Ignis decides that this isn't what he wants, and makes to leave with Aranea for good?

He doesn't touch the potstickers, and nudges the plate back towards him. He's not looking to push Ignis into anything -- he's fine with keeping the status quo for now, but it's difficult to look at him and not wonder when he will slip from his grasp again, Noctis entirely powerless to stop him. Love isn't enough. Noctis isn't enough. ]

We're not okay, are we?

[ In a lot of ways, this isn't either of their faults; they're a slave to the system they've helped craft. Noctis was always going to have to marry someone if the situation arose and Ignis was never going to be able to watch him with someone else and know the best he could have was a relationship in the shadows. Still, he'd never expected it to turn out like this.

The plate is pushed back and Ignis resists the urge to sigh; his appetite is mostly sated, but more than anything else, he's tired. The idea of saying screw everything, the rules, propriety, everything and asking Noctis to come to bed with him -- to sleep, to wake up to him in the morning, is so tempting. He can't, but he's missed that so much that sleeping alone in his bed is still awful, unfamiliar. ]

No. I'm afraid we're not. [ Ignis' voice softens further and he reaches for his own drink but doesn't drink it. Instead, he twists it in circles, spreading the condensation. ] But I hope we will be.

Me, too.

[ He murmurs, watching him fiddle with his drink. It's a habit of Ignis', he realizes, in the rare, rare moments when he's at a loss for what to do. This isn't easy for Ignis either, and there are so many things Noctis wants to say but cannot quite articulate, from a reminder of his love for him to a bid for an assurance that they'll work on this and make it right. But it doesn't seem like it'll help. Octavia might have opened a door for them, but there is still so much left to fix, things that were cracked in the months that had led up to Ignis' departure and the year during it. Noctis would never be objective where Ignis is concerned, not when he's his greatest weakness. Before this, he would have asked him to bed, taken his hand and curled up into him and breathed all of him, kissing everything better until their problems are a lifetime away. Now, he doesn't know what to do in place of that.

He sighs, and reaches for his soda. He wishes he's better at this. ] Thanks for dinner. [ He tries. They have to start somewhere. ] Is old Cheung still running things? I thought he was grooming his kid to take over.

[ There's very few people who see it, very few people who Ignis trusts enough that he'll let his guard down that much. With everyone else there's a level of expectation placed on all interactions; Ignis is supposed to represent the crown in all capacities and the way he conducts himself down to the smallest details will matter.

With the others, though - Noctis, Prompto, Gladiolus, and even Aranea to an extent, some of the wall falls. He doesn't have a shirt to mend, and isn't hungry, so the drink is twisted in idle circles. ]

Of course. [ Blessedly, a person from their past who Ignis doesn't have to say is dead and long gone. It's happened too many times in the past. ] He's there, still working frankly absurd hours for someone his age. His daughter was telling me that she can't make him retire even though he's earned it tenfold. He likes to stay busy.

[ Just like someone else. ]

Sounds like someone I know.

[ Noctis cannot help a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. It's good to hear that he's keeping busy, and that things are settling down into a new normal. There's still a lot of work to be done for Insomnia and Lucis at large, previously-annexed, now-returned territories to oversee and firm up trust with, but sometimes it's nice to step back and look at all they've done together. Still, hearing Ignis describe himself to a tee about someone else is always amusing.

He'll still do that, he thinks. When he gets old and refuses to retire, and he can't help a surge of warmth. An old Ignis, an old him. Fates allowing, he wants nothing more than to grow old with him. He wants to be there with him every step of the way, and he looks wistful just for a moment. ] I wonder what you'll be like when you're old.

I haven't the faintest idea what you mean.

[ Yeah, sure, buddy.

Noctis' lips twitch up - not a lot, not terribly noticeable, but enough. It's a shadow of a smile and while it's nowhere near how he used to smile so quickly, so easily around them before, it's a start. They can work their way back up to that sort of thing and figure out what their new normal is. It may take time, but it'll be worth it. Anything, for Noctis, is worth it. He won't make the same mistakes twice. ]

I'm...not certain. Shorter hair, most likely. My father went gray later in life, but it's not terribly obvious with how light our hair is.

I'm surprised you didn't go gray earlier, considering everything you have to deal with.

[ Noctis muses, taking sips of his soda before setting it aside. This is an easier conversation to have, a reminder of their easy camaraderie, the warmth and the reminder of how they were with each other. This is a good start, too, and maybe this is the only way to rebuild trust and restore faith. ] I think you'd make a handsome old man.

Prompto used to tease that he'd found a gray hair or two when he was assisting me, at times. Once my vision was back, I looked for myself but shockingly, I seem to have avoided it for the most part.

[ He can't quite imagine himself with the same hair style while it's gray, though. The pompadour just wouldn't look the same; it'd be odd. What will be nice to do is go back to it, however. He's missed his morning routine. The compliment jars him a little bit- he doesn't look startled but there's this beat where it hits and he lets himself enjoy it, lets himself have a moment where he's just full of warmth and affection for a man he loves to a point of excess. ]

I hope so. I'm certain you'll be much the same. [ Despite Regis' aging so quickly, he still looked regal beyond all reason, so it stands to reason. Ignis' lips tug into a tiny smile at another thought. ] Luna's going to be lovely, you realize. Between the two of you, she'll be fierce as can be.

[ Luna, huh. He softens at the mention of his daughter, this beautiful, wonderful little life he had made with Octavia, and his smile widens despite himself. She is the pride and joy of his life -- he'd messed up on so many things, could have done better on even more, but Luna... Luna's perfect. That Ignis can see the same also makes something warm curl in his chest. ]

And you, too. [ He says after a moment, wonders if he's taking too big a risk in including Ignis in his daughter's formative years, wanting him to be there with him as he and Octavia raise their daughter. Ignis, he thinks, should be a part of this as well. But is this pushing the envelope? Where's the line now? ] I've seen how you handle her, she seems to like you a lot.

[ At first he worries that he's made a mistake talking about the daughter that Noctis has with Octavia - mentioning anything related to the latter seems to be a pretty good attempt at shooting himself in the foot. Thankfully, Noctis doesn't seem upset. ]

At that age, they like anything that they see, it seems. [ She's all too happy to gum all over his shirt collar and glasses when she takes them off of his face; thankfully, there's no danger of them breaking as they're rather thick and ever since Noctis fixed his eyes, he doesn't need them. ] I forgot how much...easier babies could be, though their sleep schedules leave a bit to be desired.

It's because you won't let her cry it out, Mom.

[ Noctis teases. There are some times when it's just Luna throwing a tantrum, and he's been informed that those times -- it's better to let them cry. Noctis isn't always very successful at this; it bothers him, too, when his baby cries, but he reminds himself that she's fed, clean, and cuddled to sleep prior to that and it's just her fussing. Ignis, however, is another thing entirely. He's been told that the man is pretty much devoted to the little princess, and he's warmed by the reports. How lucky she would be if she had a fraction of his love, too.

Being loved by Ignis, he thinks, is quite a special thing. ]

Do you like her?

I sat for long periods of time in a car with three grown men who complained about their arses going numb if we drove for longer than an hour with no bathroom breaks. A baby crying is nothing.

[ It's said sweetly, but the teasing edge is there. For a moment, it's like things are normal again. Ignis doesn't grin but his smile widens enough for a hint of teeth and he's genuinely happy for a beat. This is normal. This can be their new normal, they just have to fumble blindly through it. At least he has experience with that. ]

I do. She's quite sweet. One of her nurses picked her up a stuffed calico cat and she seems quite thrilled with it. The last time I saw her, she was gumming furiously at a paw, loath to let it go.

[ Noctis snorts at that -- yeah, he caught that shade. And really, he can't complain. Ignis has been dealing with their shit for as long as he can remember, and Noctis' shit for even longer. The reminder of Ignis' quiet, undying devotion, his efforts all these years makes Noctis shift, fills him with an intense gratitude. All that aside, all their issues with each other aside, one thing is obvious: Ignis has done so much for all of them, and for Noctis especially. And -- ]

I'm glad you're here.

[ He says finally. He's been getting better at expressing himself; in thanks to just about everything that's forced him to grow up, to take on even bigger responsibilities. In thanks to the love he's never stopped feeling for the man sitting opposite him. ] And I thought you gave her that toy. Or was it the green fish plushie?

[ He wouldn't have traded spending that time with them for anything in the world, though. He teases, but he didn't mind; for someone as fussy as Ignis could be, the other three were remarkably fun to travel with and none of them were ever really at each other's throats over anything related to their living or sleeping arrangements. ]

I -- me too, Noct.

[ The comment shakes him from his thoughts and the response is instinctive, a little surprised. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Ignis gathers condensation on his fingertip and then slides it down the line of his glass, not quite sure how he sorts through the rush of words that want to spill out through his lips any time they get close to anything resembling feelings. ]

No, the fish one was the one I purchased. It was meant as a distraction - she kept trying to gum at the buttons on my suit jacket, or on my gloves so I thought a plush similarly shiny would help distract her. It works well enough; she keeps trying to eat the fins and scales.

A little girl after my own heart. [ Noctis hums. But he's proud of it -- that Luna has a fondness for putting just about everything in her mouth is amusing, and he's ridiculously fond of her habits. Noctis notices just how he's reacting to those words, the comment catching him off guard, and he aches to touch him, to run his fingers through his hair and pull him close, but he resists. This is going to be difficult, but in the mood Noctis is in, the warmth between the both of them, Noctis thinks he can take anything on.

The days that come after turn to weeks, but despite the promise and the intention to keep things casual, the tiniest gestures keep slipping through; whether it's lingering touches, the closeness between them during photoshoots, or willingly sitting close together whenever he and Ignis are out with Gladio and Prompto and somehow it always turns out that they have to sit far too closely together during cozy breakfasts at private restaurants. Noctis notices, but says nothing -- the little things help to stave off the longing and yet still somehow stir them up further; but he tries to ignore that.

Prompto and Gladio know, however, that they've decided to shelve things and resume just being friends, as king and adviser -- and while the latter is openly dubious at that assertion, he doesn't push. At least, not really. Noctis, on his end, is far too wrapped up in his increasingly lessening proximity to Ignis and the increasingly frequent little touches, tiny gestures to really notice just what is going on between their other two friends.

Tonight is a rare night for all of them. Prompto and Noctis had planned a movie marathon the day before Noctis' birthday, featuring perennial favorites like the Conjuring and its sequel, and Noctis is all for rewatching it for old times' sake (it doesn't hurt that they're his personal favorites as well). And so it is that they're all gathered in one of the rooms Prompto had insisted on, colder and draftier than Noctis would like but far enough away from the central areas of the citadel that nobody would come by and bother them. The large screen's set up, so is the sound system and the movies, and before them are mountains of snacks and sodas and the blessed absence of anything related to vegetables. Somehow, loveseats are the only ones Gladio can find, and before Noctis can offer to sit with Prompto, his best friend's already settling in with Gladio.

Which, of course, leaves Noctis with Ignis, but it's been a long day and he's too tired to keep up a front that he even gives a shit about boundaries that he just settles in with him for the movies, pressing close and leaning against him. Ignis is familiar, he's warm and so good and it's getting so chilly that he's nudging even closer. Prompto makes a soft complaint about the cold halfway, and Gladio grunts -- Noctis isn't sure what's happening there but at least Prompto doesn't bring it up again. Noctis, however -- yeah, still feeling the chill. Softly to Ignis, he asks. ]

Are there blankets?

[ He wants to be a part of this, in whatever shape it takes, he realizes. Luna isn't his daughter and he has no right to her, of course, but he wants to be a part of Noctis' life, and Luna is going to be a huge part of it. Being able to help with her, to assist with all of the insanity that comes with a newborn is part and parcel with his job, but it's never felt like one.

The dinner ends blessedly easily; they go their separate ways and Ignis thinks that while it may not be easy, it's...doable.

He's quickly proven wrong in the span of a few weeks. It's remarkably hard not to slip into old habits, and it's harder still when so much of his life and time at the Citadel do revolve constantly around Noctis. Sometimes it's a photoshoot and an interview; he's there to coordinate, to screen questions, to ensure the king isn't asked anything off the record. He's there to straighten Noctis' tie, to fix his hair, to smear some of his own pomade onto his fingers and work it through Noctis' unruly bangs. Eventually, he doesn't notice himself doing it as much, but by the time he really thinks about it, it's graduated to more.

Noctis fits in against his side at breakfast, the booth laughably small. He can't argue that Prompto and Gladiolus should take it and give them the chairs, either, because Prompto is already seated and he's the only one narrow enough for it. The first few times the two of them put Noctis next to him, he thinks nothing of it. Afterward, though, it happens too frequently for it to be anything but intentional. At first he thinks that it's because of them trying to push Noctis to him and vice versa, but then after watching a while he revises that hypothesis. Prompto sitting close isn't strange; he was physically affectionate and liked bumping shoulders, liked being close like an over-eager puppy who didn't realize how large he was.

Prompto cuddling up to someone wasn't strange. Prompto shouldering himself under Gladiolus' arm at one point when they were all out together, saying something low and soft and the smile on Gladiolus' face before the shorter man was gently shoved away-? That was something else. He never mentions it - if they're holding it secret, so will he, but it's something he notices more and more. Are he and Noctis like that? He's not sure; an outsiders perspective is better to gauge.

Regardless, it keeps happening and Ignis isn't about to boot them out of their own seats where they live so he makes the loveseat work. There's a truly horrendous variety of sugary sodas and snacks, but Gladiolus, the saint that he is, picked up some kale chips for him so he's been idly nibbling on those while they prep for the movie. By the time they're settled, Noctis is a warm weight against him again, but it's closer than the booth. They're in private - there's no fancy clothing, no neatly pressed suits. Ignis is in a pair of slacks and a simple button-up with suspenders, but it's comfortable enough. Still, when Noctis curls into him, he adjusts one side from habit, the strap sliding over his shoulder to fall loose, so Noctis doesn't end up with his face pushed against cold metal when it's already chilly. ]

Ah. One on the -- couch, it seems. [ Couch. Not loveseat. Ignis gropes back and shakes it out, gently settling it over Noctis' thighs. A glance at Gladiolus reveals what could reasonably be construed as an apologetic smile if Ignis didn't know the bastard. ]

Sorry, kids. Iris tried to get me into the whole cute blankets and throw pillows thing but it just never stuck. That's the only one we have.

[ And Noctis fits against him all the damn time, pliant under Ignis' attentions out of habit, and he ends up liking it too much to really care. Lines have been blurred for as long as he remembers, but far be it for the king to enforce them. Ignis is a comforting presence by him, and it's easy to lapse into what they were before, little touches and standing a little too close, sometimes a hand briefly resting on the small of his back before he reminds himself that they have to keep a distance from each other.

He can't, it's even more difficult to stay away, to not want him, and the constant reminders wears him down enough not to pay much attention to it anymore, and if Ignis doesn't say anything about it, it's okay, right?

Even now, too, when Ignis shifts under him and he musters up a little smile when he notices the extent of his thoughtfulness. The strap goes, and he has to resist the power urge to nose against his chest. It's dark, they're close, and it's not like the other two will notice, right? But he has to respect what they've agreed on no matter how difficult it is, and he tugs on the blanket to share it with him as well. Ignis must be feeling chilly too, right?

Pulling his legs close to his body, he's just a maneuver away from practically spilling into Ignis' lap when the blanket is draped on the both of them. ]

Mm. That's all right.

[ The king isn't complaining, not when Ignis feels so good pressed against him. His hand coming to rest on Ignis' knee absently, he watches the screen. ] You okay with it, Iggy?

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