[ Iggy, the principle of the matter is: it's going to get washed, therefore it's okay to be gross.
Noctis is studying him, observing how that expression turns into something so carefully neutral, revealing nothing. It's a talent he has, Noctis thinks. If Noctis is the more emotional one out of the both of them, then Ignis is the one more suited for the endless political came. How he can shut himself off like this is a trait Noctis never truly understands. Letting his hands be moved, he's careful not to get it on Ignis, instead keeping an arm around his waist as he listens carefully.
They both love to excess, this much is true, and Ignis, as always, has never failed to keep an eye on the future of the crown. Ignis' lips across his knuckles is a charming thing, and his fingers curl over Ignis' own. ]
You've given up so much, too. [ He pauses. ] But I want you to promise me something.
[ It'd taken him years to perfect it, but it's been endlessly useful since doing so. How many times has he been in meetings with pompous political idiots who thought they wielded more power than they actually did? How many times did someone try to exert some measure of power over Noctis by way of Ignis, and he had to hold back his anger at the idea of it -- that they would even try.
These days, it's more frequently used when he's trying to make certain that his expression doesn't give away the knee-jerk reaction before he has enough time to consider his words, or what he actually feels. ]
I'm not certain I can until you tell me what it is.
[ And this is why Noctis needs him, why Ignis serves as the hand of the king, irreplaceable and above all others. Noctis might have experience in keeping his expression neutral, but it's more out of a general sense of ennui than anything else -- he does tend towards emotion when it happens. The young king might be able to see through bullshit and size people up accurately, but the person with the acumen and savvy to maneuver tricky political waters is Ignis, without question. He maneuvers easily through the multiple agendas like a man who steps in between raindrops. It's a remarkable talent.
Noctis? Noctis just keeps them all in line.
He is silent for a moment, considering his words with care. ]
If we are to do this, I want us to do this properly. It means -- working with me to find a solution. Not you deciding to go off by yourself because you thought it would be better on me and Octavia.
[ Don't think he didn't know why you left. Don't think he didn't know exactly how you think, Ignis. Ignis loves too much, too deeply, and Noctis wants more than anything to protect him, to give him what's due. ]
[ The best and worst part about knowing Noctis sometimes, is understanding what he means when he says something, and knowing that it comes from a good place, despite the way it makes his stomach twist. Do it properly he says. Work with me to find a solution.
Logically, Ignis knows that he doesn't mean anything by it, but what were the last few months of their lives before Ignis decided that it was leave, because there was no other option? Noctis wasn't about to stop becoming king, and they were too new, too unstable to try and force their way into a deal that they couldn't back up with no military, nothing but a head of state back from the dead and the remains of a former political institution still trying to scramble themselves back together again and take care of their people.
Still, it stings in a way he wasn't expecting and gently, he removes his hands from where Noctis has held them, folding his napkin once, twice, before he catches himself and just holds it. ]
I attempted to find a solution with you, but the only ones available to us were continuing to lead an affair in the dark and risk Octavia deciding -- well within her rights, mind -- that enough was enough. Or, we could simply start a divorce there - before any of our projects were completed, before we had the help we needed to keep moving forward, before we had solidified ourselves as a power worth trusting, not just a haphazardly arranged political branch from a city. The only other option was to stop and I tried--
[ It's easier, to keep his emotions in check when it's just him, or politicians. With Noctis, it's harder and it shows, Ignis clenching at the napkin, jaw clenched tight a moment before he forcefully releases. ]
The only other option was stopping, and I wasn't strong enough to stop wanting you if I were here. There was no other option.
[ Noctis says quietly as he releases him. He's right, of course -- how often had he laid awake at night, running through a whole host of options? It is inevitable that he would hurt one or the other or continue with both. But that Ignis is the one who took it all upon himself is still something that stings. Logically, rationally, it was the best option; it mitigates a whole world of losses, but irrationally, emotionally, it's something Noctis struggles to accept.
He watches him extricate himself, how the napkin endures all of that before Ignis realises what he's doing. With him, he thinks, Ignis has less control over his own emotions, and he studies the set of his jaw. There's something deeper that they're not touching on, something that Noctis has always wanted -- but perhaps it's not up for him to have. The country comes first, not their hearts, and not for the first time he feels something ache deep inside. They don't have the luxury to be selfish, and Noctis will never have the right to choose anyone -- or demand the right to choose anyone -- above the crown, their country, the ones who have sacrificed themselves for the country's sake. ]
You did the best you could before. But -- moving forward. We're going to have challenges like these one way or another. I want you by my side. And maybe -- in a much more official capacity. Can you accept that?
[ The longer silence is not the most comforting and then when he continues, well. Ignis doesn't respond right away. Noctis has always asked more of him than anyone else - not intentionally, not because he wanted to, but Noctis' requests are always, always the ones that Ignis will bend over backwards for, outside the initial one by Regis to take care of his son.
He's not sure what this sounds more like - a marriage proposal, or an ask to never leave again, but either way, it doesn't matter right now. Marriage is so far outside the realm of possibility, despite the fact that once, Ignis had a ring in a box and a thousand words threatening to spill out of his mouth at any point in time before it all went to hell. If it's to ask him to never leave again, well, they've touched on this, and Ignis has essentially promised, but --
Rather than making assumptions, he should clarify. Getting emotional helps no one. ]
Perhaps you should specify what, exactly, you mean by that. What other sort of official capacity is there?
Noctis likes to think that it was plenty obvious -- although frankly it probably is obvious only to him. He frowns, the tips of his ears pink as he decides that this is too awkward to say. So okay, maybe it's not obvious when Noctis himself is hedging on this. Eventually, in the years to come, they are going to consider more concrete steps to this thing that they have together, this relationship. Having a king for a boyfriend is only a novelty for a short time before the issue of titles come up. It's not so much a solid marriage proposal right now as something of a declaration of interest. Hell, Ignis is even wearing the ring on his neck.
Well, better to ask now than to be disappointed, right? ]
If you like, then sometime in the future -- King Consort. [ He scratches at the back of his head. Shit, he'll need to wash his hair later. Ugh. ] That kind of official. I don't mean now, just. Before things go further, you have to know that that's where it's going. Eventually.
Oh. Ignis' eyes go wide, the only indication of shock but it's a clear enough one. He'd thought-- well, it didn't matter what he thought. The ring around his neck is warm with bodyheat, but suddenly it feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds, as if it's got the potential to be a noose. Just enough rope to hang himself and the king with, which is never a position he wanted to find himself in.
It's true that he'll need to sort out what exactly they are soon, but asking the day that everything was announced-? It's a logical progression, given the fact that Ignis knows there's no one else for him and it's even more logical knowing that the feeling is returned, after all these years, but -- ]
I...had assumed that would be a logical progression based on everything but it's not something that we can hope for any time soon. You understand that, yes? There are countless aspects to discuss, and the Council will have to be brought in for much of it. It's nowhere near as simple as things were. There's a timeline built into this, whether or not we like how long it may be.
[ Noctis might be reckless sometimes, but he likes to think that he's got a sense of self-preservation, mostly. The wounds from this haven't yet healed, and he's in no hurry to rush the process. It will take years, and he's prepared for it; he doesn't want to mess this up any more than Ignis does, and he'd meant it when he said he wanted it done properly. He takes a step forward, sighing impatiently. ]
I know what we have to do where the Council's concerned. Bring them all in for all I care, let them run through this however they want for however long they want. But you need to know something: this is it, for me. You're it. It doesn't matter how long it takes, as long as you're willing to go through this with me.
[ Because if Ignis isn't, then he might as well bow out now. Noctis has his heart set on him, and as far as he's concerned, the whole getting married thing is just another technicality, more for the benefit of the people than themselves. That one can wait. ] But if you're not sure if this is what you want, then now's the best time to speak before I put hopes on anything.
[ He takes a breath. Sighs. ] I fucked it up once, Iggy. I don't want to do it again. Not with you.
[ Any other time, he might tell him to wait. That he can't possibly know what he's going to want one, ten, fifteen years from now. Will eighty year old Ignis want the same things as he does now? He can't imagine that he will, given how much his tastes have changed over the years. There's no way of ever knowing exactly where he's going to end up or where Noctis will, but that's life.
Despite all of that, though, it isn't as if it truly matters. The world could be ending and his answer will always be the same. He may like different foods or different clothing, or a thousand other things that will change over the years, but one thing is constant and that's Noctis. ]
I was yours the moment I saw you in the throne room, Noct. I've been yours since before I could remember what it even meant to belong to someone like that.
[ He doesn't need to bring out the ring, but his fingers touch against it under his shirt like it's a worrystone, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing. ]
I love you a frankly terrifying amount, Noct. That's not liable to change ever, nor are the lengths I'm willing to go for it, for better or worse.
[ Noctis notices. He sees him fiddle with the ring underneath his shirt, aware of what it means. He doesn't know if it's boon or bane, the way Noctis is fixated only on him, his love for him a kind of obsession he doesn't hold back on. Ignis is the only constant in his life, the only thing that belongs to him, the one person in his love that he treasures above all else.
There's a relief that sets in his shoulders when Ignis tells him what he does, but he does wish Ignis looks less burdened and worried by it all. He's stepping forward and takes his hand, drawing him towards him to press his lips against his forehead. Light and gentle. ]
I'm yours, too. All the way. [ For better or worse, and Noctis loves him so much it should be terrifying, too -- the lengths he would go for his love. It's Ignis, he can't do any less than that, and he's long accepted the inevitability of it, the consequences of his passion, fierce as a wildfire. It pleases him, thrills him, Ignis belongs to him, and no one else. ] The things I would do for you.
[ He means it, all of it, and he's leading him towards the bathroom. ]
[ It's a weak protest and he knows it. Ignis follows, because Noctis is his king and he would go anywhere, everywhere demanded of him. Once, the level of devotion he felt to the future king was terrifying. It was sobering to look at a man and be wholly aware that he would do anything to protect him, that he would burn the world down around them to keep him safe.
Much as he talks about keeping the country moving and making certain that they do right by it, that isn't, nor has it ever fully been his concern. Noctis is the one who must lead it, and Noctis' safety is the most important thing to make certain that happens. Whether or not Regis intended this terrifying level of devotion doesn't matter; it's where they're at and Ignis doesn't feel any inclination to change it.
He shrugs off his clothing once they make their way inside, enough that he can hang his suspenders up and toss his shirt into the basket. He keeps his pants on for the moment, leaning over to adjust the water temperature and then starts it filling from the dual heads at either side of the obscenely large tub. A moment later, he dips past to wash his hands -- properly, thank you, and then strips out of his pants, as well, leaving him in just his briefs and the ring hanging heavy at his throat. ]
When -- I'm not certain if I should even say this, but, when Ardyn threatened you -- you were passed out. When I used the ring. All I could think is that I'd let it burn - everything else, just to keep you safe. And I thought perhaps the years would temper that but instead it's only made it stronger.
[ Made it worse, maybe. It's clear that Ignis is hesitant to admit this, keeping his distance from Noctis for the time being, his fingers curled loose around the ring. ]
Such dedication can have its time and place, but it's also dangerous, Noct.
Noctis stares at him for a long moment, stunned. The confession is not something he's expected; they haven't really talked about it, what happened prior to Noctis' approval. He knows that he had put on the ring and had burned for it -- and it's only the depth of his devotion that had moved the Lucian kings to allowing him their power. He had paid the price for it, a price Noctis would be forever grateful for, a price that still makes him ache, if only because the one he loves so deeply and so completely had endured something no one should have to.
And he'd endured it not for the world, but for him. The knowledge of that is a shock, and he stops at the doorway, frozen in place at the extent of his devotion, the deeper, darker underlying sentiment behind Ignis' words. He would let the world burn to keep him safe, and he understands it now; just why Ignis clings so tightly to duty, to obligation. If he doesn't, he would raze everything around them to the ground to keep him safe by his side, and he's not entirely sure what to feel about that.
He's not entirely sure what to feel about Ignis' state of mind, that he would sacrifice anything for him, even his own life. He didn't know how it would have turned out, and the Ring of the Lucii is infamous for its deadly consequences. And then he went ahead to do it anyway, and Noctis shakes his head. ]
Iggy, you idiot. [ Noctis' voice is rough, but he knows he's a hypocrite, because he knows he would probably do the same if he could save Ignis. What use is a world without Ignis, what --
-- no. He can't think this way, he can't allow himself this. He is the king of Lucis, and he has no luxury of a lover's sacrifice. Ignis' words ring more true than ever -- that it's dangerous, that it has its own place, and Noctis takes a few moments to recalibrate himself as he shakes his head. He had been prepared to die, to give his life for this world, and suddenly he shudders to think of what would happen if he did. What would become of Ignis? ] You were going to let everything burn just for me?
[ I'll always be honest with you, he remembers promising years ago, when they were too little to understand the impact of their words or the weight such a promise would hold. As the years crept on, it became more evident; Ignis would be horribly honest at first until he learned how to blunt his words, how to soften them so they weren't an attack without meaning for them to be.
This, though. This is a whole other level of honesty. It's one thing to pledge yourself to your liege lord, one thing to devote yourself to their service, but it's something else entirely to look at a scale with Noctis on one side and the entirety of the world on the other, and to find the world lacking, light. To find that Noctis' worth weighs so heavily that there's never, ever been a question about it.
Then, for Ignis to tell him that? It's a great deal more than he's admitted in a long time, and part of him braces for the fact that Noctis won't accept it. That it's too much, that he never asked for this level of terrifying devotion from a childhood friend turned lover. He doesn't flinch at you idiot but it's a close thing as Ignis tries to decide if he ought to check on the water or fetch one of the bath bombs that was brought in with the latest shipment of supplies, some gaudy, glittery yellow ones that smelled like cloves. He needs to do something other than just stand there basically naked, tearing his chest open to hold his heart out and ask is this enough? ]
I didn't say I was-- proud of it. But Ardyn was - I couldn't let him. I wouldn't let him. If you weren't in it, it wasn't a world I wanted to be in, either.
[ Unsaid is that it's not just because of the prophecy, not just because Noctis was supposed to save all of them.
Ignis drags in a shuddering breath and meets Noctis' eyes through sheer force of will. ]
[ It's enough. It's more than enough -- this is Ignis' heart bared for him to see, offered to him so completely, so wholly. The sheer intensity of this revelation has him reeling, overwhelmed by the sentiment of it. Ignis has judged the world and found it lacking, and Noctis can never find it in himself to ever doubt his devotion again -- he cannot, not for this. How Ignis must be carrying something this terrifying inside of him, nearly naked and worrying at his ring. There is an awareness of all this that is almost painful, and in that instant Noctis understands him, too. Knows him for who he is when he reveals this private, forbidden little thing to him, spells it out and lets it hang between them. Ignis could have lied to him, smudged words so it's more palatable, but he has always held Noctis as an exception to so much-- and he knows all of this.
He accepts it. Noctis takes it for what it is, this heavy, terrible and wonderful gift Ignis has given over to him with faith and dread in equal measure. He crosses over to him, cupping his face in his hands and kisses him deeply, passionately, pressing him up against the edge of the counter. Noctis isn't eloquent, he's no wordsmith, and he's aware that there's nothing he can say to this that would be remotely adequate. ]
Then be with me to the end. [ He breathes against his mouth, cursed and hungry, and he knows he should urge Ignis to live, prompt him to walk on for everyone's sake. But what if it was Ignis that was ripped away from him, what light can he find in this world? It is punishment to walk on without the one you love more than life itself, a terrible burden Noctis would not place on him. His arm wraps tight around him, keeping Ignis captive in his embrace. ] And never go where I cannot follow.
[ Dangerous, and yet. Noctis' eyes has never blazed with such purpose, intent and immovable. ]
[ It's one thing to have a king with dedicated soldiers following him. It's the mark of a competent ruler, that his or her men will follow them to the end of the world. After all, that was, effectively, what Ignis, Prompto, Gladiolus and the rest of their friends did, isn't it? They followed him to the ends of the world, almost to the end of all things and then back again. They made it through the darkest period of their world's time and lived to see it brighten again. Dedication is one thing.
This, though. This all-encompassing devotion, this knowledge that it has never been as simple as: Jump. And: How high, Your Majesty? This is dangerous and it won't ever stop being dangerous. It's one thing for a king to have dedicated soldiers. It's another for him to have one soldier, let alone others, who would jump when told to, but who would also kill when instructed without hesitation. The trust he has in Noctis doesn't know an end. If Noctis brought a man in front of him and said he dies, Ignis isn't certain he'd hesitate, and that's terrifying to think about. Not just that his devotion extends to the potential for murder, but a king who is aware of it can be dangerous all on his own.
It should scare him more than it does, it should scare Noctis more than it does, but instead Noctis is crowding against him, kissing him hungrily, and asking him to promise something that he has no right promising, because he knows he'll get a yes. ]
Never, Majesty. [ Ignis breathes, and cups his face with both hands, tugs him into another kiss that's furious and hungry in equal parts, the bath mostly forgotten for the moment as he puts to use every single bit of knowledge from their time together to kiss him within an inch of his life. When he needs to breathe, he draws back and drags his teeth over Noctis' bottom lip, eyeing the flushed swell of it, the way Noctis' cheeks are warmed. He's a weapon for his king to choose how to use and he trusts Noctis enough to make his king fully aware of it. ] Where you go, I go. But you have many years of being on the throne before we even have to consider such a thing, and if anyone seeks to cut that time short, know that I won't let them.
[ Noctis finds himself consumed, kissed within an inch of his life by Ignis' ravenous hunger, as if that confession's unlocked something deeper and darker in both of them, a shared understanding that the light won't reach. The love the king feels for Ignis knows no end either, even as he accepts the portent that is his lover's boundless devotion, the likes of which can topple dynasties and reduce the world to ash.
Noctis is aware of it, but he fears it none -- this is Ignis, the great love of his life, the man more precious to him than the light. If Gladio is his shield then surely Ignis is his sword, the extension of his very own soul, the only one with a place by his side. He's breathing hard when the kiss ends, savoring the heat of his vow as he looks up at him with lidded eyes, lips parted, kiss-bruised and bitten. But never let it be said that he doesn't want more of him, when he licks deftly against his lips to demand another, a shameless, open-mouthed kiss to seal this promise. Noctis isn't going anywhere; Ignis' singleminded devotion should scare him, but in him he sees so much more than just another powerful weapon. As his hands come up to cup his face he sees in him the other half of his soul. ]
I know. [ He says quietly, the truth almost painful in its clarity. There's something wrong with it, the way Ignis cleaves so completely to him; but then again, there's something wrong with all of them, with this whole damn world, and maybe this is good enough. If they're together, there is nothing that can stop them from restoring this world -- to return it to what it was before the daemons overran it. ] I know, Ignis. [ He presses his forehead to his. ] And you are everything to me in the world. Now come on -- the water's getting cold.
[ It's a terrible thing, this knowing that the world is inconsequential when it comes to Noctis' safety and health. This isn't what Regis meant when he wanted Ignis to take over tending to his son, but it's what it's transformed into, for better or worse. There's precious little in this world that Ignis would hold anywhere close to the importance of his king, not that he'd ever go so far as to say it. He thinks that Gladiolus or Aranea, maybe, has an idea; when things were so bad that he had to leave, they'd never broached the subject but he could see it, sometimes, written on their faces when they looked at him.
Now, it doesn't matter. Now, Noctis' hair is mussed, his lips kiss-swollen and shiny and Ignis wants to protect him with everything he has, but also dig his fingers in so deeply that there's no chance they'll ever be separated again. Ignis can't deny him anything, not another kiss, more time, nothing that's within his power to give and if it isn't, Six help him, he'll find a way. ]
You don't intend to climb in like that, surely.
[ Ignis murmurs it against Noctis' lips, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt to start stripping him with single-minded effeciency. It's not the kind of haphazard stripping that comes with the all-encompassing hunger to get skin against skin, but it's terribly close, shoving Noctis' shirt over his shoulders, stroking his hands over bared skin with a sigh that's swallowed into another kiss. For once, he lets the clothing lay where it is on the ground; his fingers flick open Noctis' pants and shove them down, too, but he doesn't do anything else because he doesn't want to trip him up when he still has to work off shoes and socks. Gradually, he forces himself back, tracing fingers down Noctis' sternum, snapping the line of his briefs playfully and then steps back further so he's out of reach and can tend to the bath. He tests the temperature with a few fingers and then slides his briefs off, only to glance back at the clothing on the ground with a sigh, gathering it up because his nonchalance with it lasts only a few moments.
When that's finished, he climbs naked into the tub and submerges himself after settling his glasses off to the side, rising up, hands smoothing his hair back out of his face. Teasingly, as if they haven't just bared their souls to each other:]
[ There's everything sexy about Ignis stripping him from his shirt to his pants like he's eager to get the hell into it instead of preparing for a bath. A graceful roll of his shoulders and brisk shedding of pants ensures that he's at least an obedient subject, and the hungry kiss that comes as a reward makes his dick stir. But then he's turning back to the bath instead of getting on his knees and Noctis carelessly tosses his own briefs aside.
Okay, so no sex yet. He can work with that. He allows himself to admire the curve of Ignis' ass when he's similarly naked, then leans against the counter and makes an audible noise of amusement when it turns out that Ignis can't abide a mess after all. Oh, he really tried. ]
You're never gonna be able to get rid of that habit, huh?
[ He teases, so ridiculously attracted to the way Ignis just takes a dip in the water and rises like some sort of mermaid. He's so very beautiful like this, all wet with hair clinging to his face, and Noctis takes it as his cue to climb in. Thankful that it's big enough for the both of them not to have to squeeze, he decides to sit opposite him and reach for the shampoo bottle. ]
[ He's half-hard but it's not what he's focused on at this point; physical concerns can be addressed later and he's far more preoccupied with watching Noctis climb into the bathtub, naked, all long, lean lines and elegance. That noise of amusement doesn't get past him, either; Ignis quirks a half-smile at him in response, knowing what it's in reference to. Messes last a grand total of a few minutes around him, despite his best efforts to try and ignore them. ]
A habit I'll likely never be able to shake, sadly.
[ Almost hungrily, he watches one long leg slide into the water, and then the rest of him follows and Ignis waits until he's settled before crossing the distance at Noctis' request, water rippling behind him. There are two seats at either end, so he straddles Noctis' lap to settle there and strokes wet hands over the broad spread of his chest, exploring, admiring rather than attempting to start anything just yet. The shampoo bottle gets a glance and obediently, Ignis dips his head in a little bow, one damp hand resting on the curve of Noctis' shoulder, the other stroking wet lines across his chest, his arms. ]
[ He likes watching the way Ignis' eyes lingers on him, and deliberately takes his time to climb into the tub, making sure that he gives Ignis a kind of a show. A part of him wants to help train Ignis out of that, but honestly, he loves that about Ignis, so don't fix what ain't broken, right? He's smiling when Ignis obediently comes to him, suppressing a happy shiver at the hunger in Ignis' lovely green eyes. He's not oblivious to the casual arousal, and he's leaning into his slick hands with a warm hum of pleasure before nudging at him, pouring some shampoo onto his palm. ]
Mmm, you can soap me up, if you like. [ Because Ignis touching him feels so good, and he's gently massaging his fingers into Ignis' scalp, sudsing him up with care and admiring the span of his chest, savoring the warmth of his fingers as he settles in his lap. Oh, Ignis does feel nice sitting on him. ]
[ The problem has never been that he stopped wanting Noctis; he's wanted him as long as he knew what it was to want someone like that and it's never faded. Noctis is gorgeous, and while Ignis knows that he's likely quite biased to think that, it's never stopped him before. Obliging, he tilts his head into the press of fingers and doesn't try to hide the soft noise in the back of his throat when Noctis' hands start working over him. It's enough of a distraction that it takes him a moment to get used to it, breathing shuddering out of him.
Blindly, he reaches for the soap, squinting when he realizes he'll knock something over if he isn't careful and finally grasps it, pouring a generous amount into his hand and groping for a washcloth a moment later.
He's reverent as he works, stroking over the line of Noctis' throat gently, working from his shoulders down, trailing the cloth over his chest and down to his belly before working over his arm, careful not to disrupt him while he's washing his hair. When it's finished, he wrings the cloth out and leans in for a kiss, heedless of soapy hair, smiling against the press of Noctis' lips. ]
You're so easy to worship, it's a wonder I have time to think of anything else.
[ Noctis is almost purring by the time Ignis is done scrubbing him up, and he's taking his time with massaging his scalp, working up the front and the back with care, before he's chuckling softly into the kiss Ignis stills from him. ]
Hey, you're still sudsy. [ And look, now Noct has some of the foam on his hair too. Not that he cares, especially not when Ignis works him with talented fingers and he's more than a little turned on -- he can't not be, when Ignis is so good at handling him, working his magic on his body even if it's just cleaning up. He feels good, squeaky clean the way only Ignis can manage, and he basks in the intimate moment they share together, reaching for the cloth himself.
Setting it aside, he gently nudges him. ] Keep going, flattery's gonna get you everywhere. [ He splashes him just a little, but the smile speaks volumes of just how he's pleased by that comment anyway. Oh, how he feels the same -- he could worship him for hours, press him back against the bed and make him to him the entire damn day if needed. Ignis is his own kind of drug, addictive and all-consuming, and Noctis can't find it in himself to be sorry. ] All right, sink your head in so I can get to your body, too. You're filthy.
[ Now that they can do this -- actually can do this, not just hide it in the shadows, he's eager to get anything and everything in that he can. All those little moments he'd never taken for granted, but never appreciated as much as he should have until they were no longer attainable. He still has to get Noctis' legs and back, but that's easier when they've shifted positions so he leaves it for the time being. For now, rolls his eyes at the splash and dips himself into the tub, scrubbing fingers through his hair to get the suds out and then rises, blinking water out of his eyes. ]
I'm filthy?
[ Ignis gives him the most dubious of looks. ]
I seem to remember a certain someone wiping greasy, filthy hands onto my pants in his hair as if he wasn't raised with the best of manners.
[ Please, Noctis, he knows. Ignis rakes a hand through his hair and reaches for the conditioner, handing it over. ]
On the bright side, smelling like pizza isn't a bad thing.
[ Noctis, entirely unrepentant, takes the conditioner from him and splashes him again for good measure. He takes his time with him, the conditioner slick and smooth as he slides it through his hair, taking care to reach all of it, playing with the soft strands. ]
Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you rake your hair back? Or when your hair's in your eyes? [ Even moreso like this when he's without glasses, his green eyes so beautiful. Noctis pauses only for a few moments so that he can meet his gaze, smiling. Now that they can actually do this together, it feels like magic, it feels like everything he's been waiting for all his life, and he's in no hurry to rush it. No, this moment is precious, and he's helping to slick Ignis' hair back with the conditioner, his handsome face unframed. ] Mmm, like this, too. You look like you should be in a motorcycle gang somewhere.
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Noctis is studying him, observing how that expression turns into something so carefully neutral, revealing nothing. It's a talent he has, Noctis thinks. If Noctis is the more emotional one out of the both of them, then Ignis is the one more suited for the endless political came. How he can shut himself off like this is a trait Noctis never truly understands. Letting his hands be moved, he's careful not to get it on Ignis, instead keeping an arm around his waist as he listens carefully.
They both love to excess, this much is true, and Ignis, as always, has never failed to keep an eye on the future of the crown. Ignis' lips across his knuckles is a charming thing, and his fingers curl over Ignis' own. ]
You've given up so much, too. [ He pauses. ] But I want you to promise me something.
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These days, it's more frequently used when he's trying to make certain that his expression doesn't give away the knee-jerk reaction before he has enough time to consider his words, or what he actually feels. ]
I'm not certain I can until you tell me what it is.
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Noctis? Noctis just keeps them all in line.
He is silent for a moment, considering his words with care. ]
If we are to do this, I want us to do this properly. It means -- working with me to find a solution. Not you deciding to go off by yourself because you thought it would be better on me and Octavia.
[ Don't think he didn't know why you left. Don't think he didn't know exactly how you think, Ignis. Ignis loves too much, too deeply, and Noctis wants more than anything to protect him, to give him what's due. ]
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Logically, Ignis knows that he doesn't mean anything by it, but what were the last few months of their lives before Ignis decided that it was leave, because there was no other option? Noctis wasn't about to stop becoming king, and they were too new, too unstable to try and force their way into a deal that they couldn't back up with no military, nothing but a head of state back from the dead and the remains of a former political institution still trying to scramble themselves back together again and take care of their people.
Still, it stings in a way he wasn't expecting and gently, he removes his hands from where Noctis has held them, folding his napkin once, twice, before he catches himself and just holds it. ]
I attempted to find a solution with you, but the only ones available to us were continuing to lead an affair in the dark and risk Octavia deciding -- well within her rights, mind -- that enough was enough. Or, we could simply start a divorce there - before any of our projects were completed, before we had the help we needed to keep moving forward, before we had solidified ourselves as a power worth trusting, not just a haphazardly arranged political branch from a city. The only other option was to stop and I tried--
[ It's easier, to keep his emotions in check when it's just him, or politicians. With Noctis, it's harder and it shows, Ignis clenching at the napkin, jaw clenched tight a moment before he forcefully releases. ]
The only other option was stopping, and I wasn't strong enough to stop wanting you if I were here. There was no other option.
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[ Noctis says quietly as he releases him. He's right, of course -- how often had he laid awake at night, running through a whole host of options? It is inevitable that he would hurt one or the other or continue with both. But that Ignis is the one who took it all upon himself is still something that stings. Logically, rationally, it was the best option; it mitigates a whole world of losses, but irrationally, emotionally, it's something Noctis struggles to accept.
He watches him extricate himself, how the napkin endures all of that before Ignis realises what he's doing. With him, he thinks, Ignis has less control over his own emotions, and he studies the set of his jaw. There's something deeper that they're not touching on, something that Noctis has always wanted -- but perhaps it's not up for him to have. The country comes first, not their hearts, and not for the first time he feels something ache deep inside. They don't have the luxury to be selfish, and Noctis will never have the right to choose anyone -- or demand the right to choose anyone -- above the crown, their country, the ones who have sacrificed themselves for the country's sake. ]
You did the best you could before. But -- moving forward. We're going to have challenges like these one way or another. I want you by my side. And maybe -- in a much more official capacity. Can you accept that?
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He's not sure what this sounds more like - a marriage proposal, or an ask to never leave again, but either way, it doesn't matter right now. Marriage is so far outside the realm of possibility, despite the fact that once, Ignis had a ring in a box and a thousand words threatening to spill out of his mouth at any point in time before it all went to hell. If it's to ask him to never leave again, well, they've touched on this, and Ignis has essentially promised, but --
Rather than making assumptions, he should clarify. Getting emotional helps no one. ]
Perhaps you should specify what, exactly, you mean by that. What other sort of official capacity is there?
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Noctis likes to think that it was plenty obvious -- although frankly it probably is obvious only to him. He frowns, the tips of his ears pink as he decides that this is too awkward to say. So okay, maybe it's not obvious when Noctis himself is hedging on this. Eventually, in the years to come, they are going to consider more concrete steps to this thing that they have together, this relationship. Having a king for a boyfriend is only a novelty for a short time before the issue of titles come up. It's not so much a solid marriage proposal right now as something of a declaration of interest. Hell, Ignis is even wearing the ring on his neck.
Well, better to ask now than to be disappointed, right? ]
If you like, then sometime in the future -- King Consort. [ He scratches at the back of his head. Shit, he'll need to wash his hair later. Ugh. ] That kind of official. I don't mean now, just. Before things go further, you have to know that that's where it's going. Eventually.
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Oh. Ignis' eyes go wide, the only indication of shock but it's a clear enough one. He'd thought-- well, it didn't matter what he thought. The ring around his neck is warm with bodyheat, but suddenly it feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds, as if it's got the potential to be a noose. Just enough rope to hang himself and the king with, which is never a position he wanted to find himself in.
It's true that he'll need to sort out what exactly they are soon, but asking the day that everything was announced-? It's a logical progression, given the fact that Ignis knows there's no one else for him and it's even more logical knowing that the feeling is returned, after all these years, but -- ]
I...had assumed that would be a logical progression based on everything but it's not something that we can hope for any time soon. You understand that, yes? There are countless aspects to discuss, and the Council will have to be brought in for much of it. It's nowhere near as simple as things were. There's a timeline built into this, whether or not we like how long it may be.
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[ Noctis might be reckless sometimes, but he likes to think that he's got a sense of self-preservation, mostly. The wounds from this haven't yet healed, and he's in no hurry to rush the process. It will take years, and he's prepared for it; he doesn't want to mess this up any more than Ignis does, and he'd meant it when he said he wanted it done properly. He takes a step forward, sighing impatiently. ]
I know what we have to do where the Council's concerned. Bring them all in for all I care, let them run through this however they want for however long they want. But you need to know something: this is it, for me. You're it. It doesn't matter how long it takes, as long as you're willing to go through this with me.
[ Because if Ignis isn't, then he might as well bow out now. Noctis has his heart set on him, and as far as he's concerned, the whole getting married thing is just another technicality, more for the benefit of the people than themselves. That one can wait. ] But if you're not sure if this is what you want, then now's the best time to speak before I put hopes on anything.
[ He takes a breath. Sighs. ] I fucked it up once, Iggy. I don't want to do it again. Not with you.
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Despite all of that, though, it isn't as if it truly matters. The world could be ending and his answer will always be the same. He may like different foods or different clothing, or a thousand other things that will change over the years, but one thing is constant and that's Noctis. ]
I was yours the moment I saw you in the throne room, Noct. I've been yours since before I could remember what it even meant to belong to someone like that.
[ He doesn't need to bring out the ring, but his fingers touch against it under his shirt like it's a worrystone, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing. ]
I love you a frankly terrifying amount, Noct. That's not liable to change ever, nor are the lengths I'm willing to go for it, for better or worse.
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There's a relief that sets in his shoulders when Ignis tells him what he does, but he does wish Ignis looks less burdened and worried by it all. He's stepping forward and takes his hand, drawing him towards him to press his lips against his forehead. Light and gentle. ]
I'm yours, too. All the way. [ For better or worse, and Noctis loves him so much it should be terrifying, too -- the lengths he would go for his love. It's Ignis, he can't do any less than that, and he's long accepted the inevitability of it, the consequences of his passion, fierce as a wildfire. It pleases him, thrills him, Ignis belongs to him, and no one else. ] The things I would do for you.
[ He means it, all of it, and he's leading him towards the bathroom. ]
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[ It's a weak protest and he knows it. Ignis follows, because Noctis is his king and he would go anywhere, everywhere demanded of him. Once, the level of devotion he felt to the future king was terrifying. It was sobering to look at a man and be wholly aware that he would do anything to protect him, that he would burn the world down around them to keep him safe.
Much as he talks about keeping the country moving and making certain that they do right by it, that isn't, nor has it ever fully been his concern. Noctis is the one who must lead it, and Noctis' safety is the most important thing to make certain that happens. Whether or not Regis intended this terrifying level of devotion doesn't matter; it's where they're at and Ignis doesn't feel any inclination to change it.
He shrugs off his clothing once they make their way inside, enough that he can hang his suspenders up and toss his shirt into the basket. He keeps his pants on for the moment, leaning over to adjust the water temperature and then starts it filling from the dual heads at either side of the obscenely large tub. A moment later, he dips past to wash his hands -- properly, thank you, and then strips out of his pants, as well, leaving him in just his briefs and the ring hanging heavy at his throat. ]
When -- I'm not certain if I should even say this, but, when Ardyn threatened you -- you were passed out. When I used the ring. All I could think is that I'd let it burn - everything else, just to keep you safe. And I thought perhaps the years would temper that but instead it's only made it stronger.
[ Made it worse, maybe. It's clear that Ignis is hesitant to admit this, keeping his distance from Noctis for the time being, his fingers curled loose around the ring. ]
Such dedication can have its time and place, but it's also dangerous, Noct.
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Noctis stares at him for a long moment, stunned. The confession is not something he's expected; they haven't really talked about it, what happened prior to Noctis' approval. He knows that he had put on the ring and had burned for it -- and it's only the depth of his devotion that had moved the Lucian kings to allowing him their power. He had paid the price for it, a price Noctis would be forever grateful for, a price that still makes him ache, if only because the one he loves so deeply and so completely had endured something no one should have to.
And he'd endured it not for the world, but for him. The knowledge of that is a shock, and he stops at the doorway, frozen in place at the extent of his devotion, the deeper, darker underlying sentiment behind Ignis' words. He would let the world burn to keep him safe, and he understands it now; just why Ignis clings so tightly to duty, to obligation. If he doesn't, he would raze everything around them to the ground to keep him safe by his side, and he's not entirely sure what to feel about that.
He's not entirely sure what to feel about Ignis' state of mind, that he would sacrifice anything for him, even his own life. He didn't know how it would have turned out, and the Ring of the Lucii is infamous for its deadly consequences. And then he went ahead to do it anyway, and Noctis shakes his head. ]
Iggy, you idiot. [ Noctis' voice is rough, but he knows he's a hypocrite, because he knows he would probably do the same if he could save Ignis. What use is a world without Ignis, what --
-- no. He can't think this way, he can't allow himself this. He is the king of Lucis, and he has no luxury of a lover's sacrifice. Ignis' words ring more true than ever -- that it's dangerous, that it has its own place, and Noctis takes a few moments to recalibrate himself as he shakes his head. He had been prepared to die, to give his life for this world, and suddenly he shudders to think of what would happen if he did. What would become of Ignis? ] You were going to let everything burn just for me?
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This, though. This is a whole other level of honesty. It's one thing to pledge yourself to your liege lord, one thing to devote yourself to their service, but it's something else entirely to look at a scale with Noctis on one side and the entirety of the world on the other, and to find the world lacking, light. To find that Noctis' worth weighs so heavily that there's never, ever been a question about it.
Then, for Ignis to tell him that? It's a great deal more than he's admitted in a long time, and part of him braces for the fact that Noctis won't accept it. That it's too much, that he never asked for this level of terrifying devotion from a childhood friend turned lover. He doesn't flinch at you idiot but it's a close thing as Ignis tries to decide if he ought to check on the water or fetch one of the bath bombs that was brought in with the latest shipment of supplies, some gaudy, glittery yellow ones that smelled like cloves. He needs to do something other than just stand there basically naked, tearing his chest open to hold his heart out and ask is this enough? ]
I didn't say I was-- proud of it. But Ardyn was - I couldn't let him. I wouldn't let him. If you weren't in it, it wasn't a world I wanted to be in, either.
[ Unsaid is that it's not just because of the prophecy, not just because Noctis was supposed to save all of them.
Ignis drags in a shuddering breath and meets Noctis' eyes through sheer force of will. ]
As I said. It's dangerous.
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He accepts it. Noctis takes it for what it is, this heavy, terrible and wonderful gift Ignis has given over to him with faith and dread in equal measure. He crosses over to him, cupping his face in his hands and kisses him deeply, passionately, pressing him up against the edge of the counter. Noctis isn't eloquent, he's no wordsmith, and he's aware that there's nothing he can say to this that would be remotely adequate. ]
Then be with me to the end. [ He breathes against his mouth, cursed and hungry, and he knows he should urge Ignis to live, prompt him to walk on for everyone's sake. But what if it was Ignis that was ripped away from him, what light can he find in this world? It is punishment to walk on without the one you love more than life itself, a terrible burden Noctis would not place on him. His arm wraps tight around him, keeping Ignis captive in his embrace. ] And never go where I cannot follow.
[ Dangerous, and yet. Noctis' eyes has never blazed with such purpose, intent and immovable. ]
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This, though. This all-encompassing devotion, this knowledge that it has never been as simple as: Jump. And: How high, Your Majesty? This is dangerous and it won't ever stop being dangerous. It's one thing for a king to have dedicated soldiers. It's another for him to have one soldier, let alone others, who would jump when told to, but who would also kill when instructed without hesitation. The trust he has in Noctis doesn't know an end. If Noctis brought a man in front of him and said he dies, Ignis isn't certain he'd hesitate, and that's terrifying to think about. Not just that his devotion extends to the potential for murder, but a king who is aware of it can be dangerous all on his own.
It should scare him more than it does, it should scare Noctis more than it does, but instead Noctis is crowding against him, kissing him hungrily, and asking him to promise something that he has no right promising, because he knows he'll get a yes. ]
Never, Majesty. [ Ignis breathes, and cups his face with both hands, tugs him into another kiss that's furious and hungry in equal parts, the bath mostly forgotten for the moment as he puts to use every single bit of knowledge from their time together to kiss him within an inch of his life. When he needs to breathe, he draws back and drags his teeth over Noctis' bottom lip, eyeing the flushed swell of it, the way Noctis' cheeks are warmed. He's a weapon for his king to choose how to use and he trusts Noctis enough to make his king fully aware of it. ] Where you go, I go. But you have many years of being on the throne before we even have to consider such a thing, and if anyone seeks to cut that time short, know that I won't let them.
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Noctis is aware of it, but he fears it none -- this is Ignis, the great love of his life, the man more precious to him than the light. If Gladio is his shield then surely Ignis is his sword, the extension of his very own soul, the only one with a place by his side. He's breathing hard when the kiss ends, savoring the heat of his vow as he looks up at him with lidded eyes, lips parted, kiss-bruised and bitten. But never let it be said that he doesn't want more of him, when he licks deftly against his lips to demand another, a shameless, open-mouthed kiss to seal this promise. Noctis isn't going anywhere; Ignis' singleminded devotion should scare him, but in him he sees so much more than just another powerful weapon. As his hands come up to cup his face he sees in him the other half of his soul. ]
I know. [ He says quietly, the truth almost painful in its clarity. There's something wrong with it, the way Ignis cleaves so completely to him; but then again, there's something wrong with all of them, with this whole damn world, and maybe this is good enough. If they're together, there is nothing that can stop them from restoring this world -- to return it to what it was before the daemons overran it. ] I know, Ignis. [ He presses his forehead to his. ] And you are everything to me in the world. Now come on -- the water's getting cold.
[ And Noctis has yet to shed his own clothes. ]
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Now, it doesn't matter. Now, Noctis' hair is mussed, his lips kiss-swollen and shiny and Ignis wants to protect him with everything he has, but also dig his fingers in so deeply that there's no chance they'll ever be separated again. Ignis can't deny him anything, not another kiss, more time, nothing that's within his power to give and if it isn't, Six help him, he'll find a way. ]
You don't intend to climb in like that, surely.
[ Ignis murmurs it against Noctis' lips, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt to start stripping him with single-minded effeciency. It's not the kind of haphazard stripping that comes with the all-encompassing hunger to get skin against skin, but it's terribly close, shoving Noctis' shirt over his shoulders, stroking his hands over bared skin with a sigh that's swallowed into another kiss. For once, he lets the clothing lay where it is on the ground; his fingers flick open Noctis' pants and shove them down, too, but he doesn't do anything else because he doesn't want to trip him up when he still has to work off shoes and socks. Gradually, he forces himself back, tracing fingers down Noctis' sternum, snapping the line of his briefs playfully and then steps back further so he's out of reach and can tend to the bath. He tests the temperature with a few fingers and then slides his briefs off, only to glance back at the clothing on the ground with a sigh, gathering it up because his nonchalance with it lasts only a few moments.
When that's finished, he climbs naked into the tub and submerges himself after settling his glasses off to the side, rising up, hands smoothing his hair back out of his face. Teasingly, as if they haven't just bared their souls to each other:]
Hurry up.
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Okay, so no sex yet. He can work with that. He allows himself to admire the curve of Ignis' ass when he's similarly naked, then leans against the counter and makes an audible noise of amusement when it turns out that Ignis can't abide a mess after all. Oh, he really tried. ]
You're never gonna be able to get rid of that habit, huh?
[ He teases, so ridiculously attracted to the way Ignis just takes a dip in the water and rises like some sort of mermaid. He's so very beautiful like this, all wet with hair clinging to his face, and Noctis takes it as his cue to climb in. Thankful that it's big enough for the both of them not to have to squeeze, he decides to sit opposite him and reach for the shampoo bottle. ]
C'mere.
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A habit I'll likely never be able to shake, sadly.
[ Almost hungrily, he watches one long leg slide into the water, and then the rest of him follows and Ignis waits until he's settled before crossing the distance at Noctis' request, water rippling behind him. There are two seats at either end, so he straddles Noctis' lap to settle there and strokes wet hands over the broad spread of his chest, exploring, admiring rather than attempting to start anything just yet. The shampoo bottle gets a glance and obediently, Ignis dips his head in a little bow, one damp hand resting on the curve of Noctis' shoulder, the other stroking wet lines across his chest, his arms. ]
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Mmm, you can soap me up, if you like. [ Because Ignis touching him feels so good, and he's gently massaging his fingers into Ignis' scalp, sudsing him up with care and admiring the span of his chest, savoring the warmth of his fingers as he settles in his lap. Oh, Ignis does feel nice sitting on him. ]
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Blindly, he reaches for the soap, squinting when he realizes he'll knock something over if he isn't careful and finally grasps it, pouring a generous amount into his hand and groping for a washcloth a moment later.
He's reverent as he works, stroking over the line of Noctis' throat gently, working from his shoulders down, trailing the cloth over his chest and down to his belly before working over his arm, careful not to disrupt him while he's washing his hair. When it's finished, he wrings the cloth out and leans in for a kiss, heedless of soapy hair, smiling against the press of Noctis' lips. ]
You're so easy to worship, it's a wonder I have time to think of anything else.
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Hey, you're still sudsy. [ And look, now Noct has some of the foam on his hair too. Not that he cares, especially not when Ignis works him with talented fingers and he's more than a little turned on -- he can't not be, when Ignis is so good at handling him, working his magic on his body even if it's just cleaning up. He feels good, squeaky clean the way only Ignis can manage, and he basks in the intimate moment they share together, reaching for the cloth himself.
Setting it aside, he gently nudges him. ] Keep going, flattery's gonna get you everywhere. [ He splashes him just a little, but the smile speaks volumes of just how he's pleased by that comment anyway. Oh, how he feels the same -- he could worship him for hours, press him back against the bed and make him to him the entire damn day if needed. Ignis is his own kind of drug, addictive and all-consuming, and Noctis can't find it in himself to be sorry. ] All right, sink your head in so I can get to your body, too. You're filthy.
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I'm filthy?
[ Ignis gives him the most dubious of looks. ]
I seem to remember a certain someone wiping greasy, filthy hands onto my pants in his hair as if he wasn't raised with the best of manners.
[ Please, Noctis, he knows. Ignis rakes a hand through his hair and reaches for the conditioner, handing it over. ]
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[ Noctis, entirely unrepentant, takes the conditioner from him and splashes him again for good measure. He takes his time with him, the conditioner slick and smooth as he slides it through his hair, taking care to reach all of it, playing with the soft strands. ]
Have I ever told you how sexy you look when you rake your hair back? Or when your hair's in your eyes? [ Even moreso like this when he's without glasses, his green eyes so beautiful. Noctis pauses only for a few moments so that he can meet his gaze, smiling. Now that they can actually do this together, it feels like magic, it feels like everything he's been waiting for all his life, and he's in no hurry to rush it. No, this moment is precious, and he's helping to slick Ignis' hair back with the conditioner, his handsome face unframed. ] Mmm, like this, too. You look like you should be in a motorcycle gang somewhere.
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