nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

Noct, the pizza-

[ 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.

[ What?

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. ]

As I said. It's dangerous.

[ 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.

[ And Noctis has yet to shed his own clothes. ]

[ 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:]

Hurry up.

[ 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. ]

C'mere.

[ 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.

[ Oh, gross. Ignis' nose wrinkles in response to that because despite spending a good portion of his time cooking, he doesn't necessarily like smelling like food and he certainly doesn't want to smell like pizza. ]

I'm afraid I won't be purchasing any pizza scented cologne any time soon, do try to hold back your disappointment.

[ He accepts the splash and doesn't return it mostly because he knows if he does they'll get into a splashing contest and they're adults and he doesn't want to explain to housekeepers why the floor is soaked after the king took a bath, thank you. Noctis' hands are put to much better use a moment later, stroking conditioner through his hair and Ignis hums quietly, eyes sliding shut at the attention, half-listening to what he's saying. ]

You're as biased as I am, I think, but the compliment is appreciated all the same.

[ His hair is slicked out of the way and holds with the addition of conditioner, which means he's free to open his eyes again and he settles back on the other side of the bathtub so Noctis can dip down and wet his own hair for Ignis to return the favor. ]

I don't know about a gang, but before everything happened, I did have one that I used to ride intermittently. It's probably long gone, and I've considered getting another but the cars are much safer as they're armored.

You ride bikes?

[ Noctis straightens, definitely interested. He's dipping down anyway, getting his hair completely wet before coming up, looking like a bedraggled, wet cat with his hair in his eyes and sticking to his scalp. He's pushing it back impatiently, because this is a thing he doesn't actually know about him -- the topic hasn't really come up, and Noctis could kick himself for overlooking such a thing. The mental image of Ignis in a biker jacket and on one of them, riding down the roads is an unbelievably delicious one, and he wades in close, clearing the distance between them to insinuate himself between his thighs.

Okay, it's shampoo time for the king, who despite appearances to the contrary also likes getting clean. The washcloth is in his hand, and he's squirming to reach the bottle of soap that's floating past, getting up on his knees so that he can splay his hands over his chest, his shoulders, admiring the sleek, warm feel of them for himself. ]

Or you could ride bikes in the countryside now and then. [ He offers, because the mental image is too good to pass up, and he wants to see what reality looks like stacked up against it. ] And I could do that with you. [ But mostly Ignis. ]

Rode is probably a more accurate term, but yes.

[ It's been years. His cycle is probably long gone by now, turned to rust and plastic or recycled once they started their work on the city. He'd been back once to look through the ruins of his old place, but hadn't found much worth or able to be salvaged. As far as he was aware, the entire building was condemned and was a smoldering heap on the ground while they rebuilt. Material things hadn't mattered as much back when things were so bad.

Utterly distracted when Noctis rises up, he smiles at the sight of him. ]

Hello, handsome.

[ One arm loops around his shoulders to tug him in close and he sweeps Noctis' hair out of his eyes with a delicate push of his hand, already groping for the shampoo to squeeze it into his hand. When he has an adequate amount - a little more than he uses for himself because Noctis has so much hair, he starts working it through in careful, slow strokes so he doesn't pull any tangles that may have resulted from the dip. He's as methodical about this as he is with everything, careful to ensure no suds or water droplets get in his eyes or ears, leaning into Noctis' hands in turn. ]

I'm not entirely certain I'd recall how to ride them safely; ten years is a long time to have no practice, but we could look into it.

[ It's funny how even now, hearing Ignis say that to him with that particular purr in his voice can still make Noctis warm and the tips of his ears crimson. He's moving into his hands like it's the most natural thing to do, loving and affectionate as he smiles back at him in return. Handsome, huh. It still feels so good to hear it coming from him. ]

You're weird.

[ But don't stop calling him that, he likes it. He's patiently still under his hands, noting just how considerate Ignis is with everything, elegant and graceful when he shampoos him up, none of the suds getting into his eyes. He's using the washcloth to soap Ignis up in turn, taking good care not to disrupt him the way Ignis had done from him before, admiring the way the water rolls off his chest, his shoulders, and suppressing the urge to lean in and chase it with his mouth. It'd be soapy and gross, for one. ] You know, I don't think you know just how gorgeous you are. [ He says absently, gently rubbing the cloth up his stomach, dipping to his abdomen playfully. ] Or you could just wear leather pants, a tight leather jacket and nothing underneath, and we can see what we can do right here in this bedroom.

[ Heh. ] A bike helmet too, I guess.

[ It's unbearably cute how Noctis flusters at a compliment like that; Ignis' lips curl into a fond smile as he finishes stroking fingers across Noctis' scalp, making sure that he gets every bit of his hair taken care of. When he's done, he dips his hands in the water and smooths Noctis' hair back so it sits the same way his own is, slicked toward his neck. It's a little silly, but Noctis is still damnably attractive beyond all reason. ]

Trust me when I tell you that I am but one of many who thinks you are.

[ If that makes them weird then so be it. Noctis' hands work the soap and washcloth over him equally careful, humming at the attention like a large, overgrown cat that somehow loves water. For all that he teases Noctis about being flustered at a few choice words and compliments, his own cheeks threaten to pink at the way he says it, like it's the weather, like the water's warm. Objectively, he knows he's attractive enough. The scarring is...unfortunate, but Noctis knows how he got it and Ignis is comfortable with it being in service to his king so he's never minded past the slight irritation when it was healing. ]

Ugh, no, I don't believe I'll be doing that any time soon. I don't know how Gladio does it, it's positively dreadful. Much easier to cover what you're wearing with a set of adequate riding leathers that you strip off once you're done with it. Here, tip yourself back and rinse it out.

[ With Noctis in his lap, Ignis cups one hand at his hip and the other spreads at the center of his back between his shoulderblades, holding him steadily so he can recline back into the water and rinse himself without having to move. ]

If I were to take you out on one, you would absolutely have a helmet.

Edited 2018-01-09 03:39 (UTC)

Yours is the only opinion I care about.

[ He squirms under his hands then, feeling the way his hair's slicked back to his neck, matching Ignis' own. He gives him a wicked little grin before he surges up to steal another kiss, shameless and playful, reveling in the warmth of being so cared for, and caring for his lover in turn. He enjoys pampering Ignis, he finds; he loves when he gets to make Ignis blush, those cheeks flushed pink whenever he compliments him. He's the only one who gets to see his calm, collected adviser and lover this way, and he's all the more pleased for it.

He pauses in his cleaning of him, gently tracking over the scars and admiring them -- a mark of all Ignis has sacrificed and endured for him, and they can be no less than beautiful in his eyes. He'd spend every waking moment lavishing intimate attenion on his scars if he could, really. But here they are, enjoying each other with a sweetness that makes him giddy. He does as he's told, dipping his head back in Ignis' arms, rinsing it out properly so that he's all nice and wet and sud-free, settled comfortably against him. Pushing his hair back again, he looks back at him thoughtfully, reaching for the cloth again and pouring more liquid soap onto it.

Thighs, next. ]

I'm going to have helmet hair.

[ Noctis is a lot less thrilled about this. ]

Indeed.

[ He sounds faintly amused, watching the long, pale line of Noctis stretched out in his lap and he's reminded that his cock is still half-hard; he's ignored it for the time being but the moment Noctis rises back and kisses him like that, his body reminds him that he is only human and that it wants. While Noctis likely doesn't care about the scarring either, he knows that back years ago he was the sort to be worried about his own. Ignis had washed over it carefully, not lingering when he'd soaped up Noctis, but wondered if all these years later if he was able to or if it was best to leave that alone for the time being.

Soap is redeposited into the washcloth and Ignis eyes him a moment - don't think he doesn't see what you're doing there, Noctis. He'd left Noctis' thighs alone for the time being, not quite sure where they were going to allow things to go, but when Noctis starts toward them he cocks an eyebrow, wondering if it's so innocent as simply washing. ]

If mine is the only opinion you care about then it should hearten you to know that helmet hair won't bother me at all as it will mean if an accident happens, you'll be safe.

I care about my opinion, too.

[ Noctis grumbles absently, but there's no teeth behind it when he definitely starts towards him, bold and shameless as the towel scrubs gently up the inside of his thigh. Right, then left, before he gently grasps his cock -- half-hard and so fucking perfect, like is it going to be weird if Noctis says that Ignis has the best looking dick he's ever seen? It probably will be, and it's not like he's had a long line of dicks to measure it up against, but.

He takes special care to clean him up, soapy fingers moving up and down his shaft, gently massaging against the foreskin before he reaches his balls and takes his time with it. He's heavy in his hand, warm, and his own dick stirs in response. Shit. This is really fucking hot, and the way Ignis looks at him is even hotter still.

Aware of the effect he has on him, Ignis' dick in his palm, he looks up at him with lidded eyes. ] Is this okay?

Yours is the only opinion I care about, he says mere moments earlier.

[ Ignis sinks back into the cradle of the bath tub and watches him, weighing where he wants this to go. He was careful to avoid anywhere too sensitive, too private because he wasn't certain where they stood. They hadn't...really talked about what it meant now that they were fully out and public, all their sins aired like dirty laundry for the world to make a spectacle of.

The world doesn't get this, though. This: Noctis with his hair slicked back and messy, dripping lines down his throat, his shoulders. This: Noctis sliding a soft washcloth over his thighs and then swordsman rough hands over his thighs, his cock, soap and water slicking the way. He could stop this. He maybe should until they clearly define what boundaries they're going to hold to (so they can break them anyway) but he sinks back into the bath a little further and looks at Noctis, like he's the king being serviced by his retainer. One slow breath in, held and then exhaled and he tilts his head back a little, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he decides. His cock has already made its decision, the traitor, fattening up in Noctis' hand with just the faintest bit of attention. ]

Yes.

[ Six, but Ignis is so gloriously beautiful like this, sitting above him, like he's every inch a king. And here Noctis is, paying his respects, worshiping him with care and devotion, watching how his cock fattens and stiffens in his grasp, responding to his touch. They have yet to negotiate boundaries, to decide what's okay and what isn't, but Noctis can't find it in himself to care.

They've already come this far, forged their vows to each other in the privacy of this bathroom -- even so, he looks to Ignis, cautious despite himself, caring more for him than his own pleasure. Ignis is the only one who matters, and his thumb gently rubs circles over the head of his dick before he cups some water and rinses it off. Another careful rinse, twice and three times, every gesture tender and worshipful, his eyes darkening with something much like desire.

It's been a long, long while since he's properly had Ignis, even longer still without the weight of guilt and the knowledge of inevitable separation, and he aches for him, the longing so overwhelming that he's surprised by himself.

And when the soap is washed off, the king slowly, delicately presses a kiss to the head of his lover's cock. ] Tell me to stop, [ He breathes, gentle and slow, dark eyes holding a world of promise. ] and I will.

[ This isn't like before - moments stolen in private with enough regret that he could choke on it, drown in it. He can have this, can have Noctis and he'd be a fool to give that up, wouldn't he? Ignis already did it once and spent every moment of every day regretting the necessity of it. Now, it's certainly not necessary.

Both hands lift so he can cup Noctis' face, tilting it up so that when he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to his lips it's easier, while Noctis' hand stays busy against his cock, rinsing it clean, taking his time with it the same way Ignis has a thousand times over in the past, dragging the pleasure out until Noctis was taut with it, ready to snap. To have that single-minded determination and focus turned on him again is thrilling all on its own, but to have it without any strings attached, to know that they can go to their bed afterward and he can wake up in it with no worries is even more thrilling. ]

Wanting you to stop was never the problem.

[ Ignis runs a hand through Noctis' hair and tugs just shy of too sharp, pulling him away from it because he wants a kiss, wants to dig his fingers into all that pale skin and leave a thousand marks so that when he wakes up in the morning he knows that Noctis is his, properly. The kiss this time is sharp, teeth dragging over Noctis' bottom lip, a leg winding around his waist to tug him up and in so that Ignis' cock pushes against his belly eagerly, the friction of it sending heat sparking down his spine. ]

The problem is I've always wanted you too much.

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