nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ 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.

[ Noctis' breath hitches when Ignis tugs him back, caught by surprise -- and a heartbeat later, instantly aroused. He loves when Ignis sheds the kid gloves and gives into his wilder instincts, when he looks at him like he means to eat him alive and Noctis is likewise eager to sink his teeth into him. His kiss lingers on his lips, and Noctis cannot help a sense of smugness and pride at how he's pushed him this far. They've done this a thousand times before, but it often happened with Ignis on his knees, drawing the pleasure out to impossible heights.

Now it's his turn, and more than anything he sees the appeal of it. He's hooked on pleasing Ignis, on drawing out the wilder, more ferocious side of him; they no longer have to keep this a secret (at least, not for very long), there isn't anyone else waiting in his bed but Ignis, and in here they are free to pursue each other, to be together the way they had always been before the marriage happened. He can look forward to happiness unmarred by shadow and the ticking of time, of the knowledge that another is waiting for him. Ignis is no longer a secret, he no longer needs to hide. After all, Noctis had practically declared his lasting, undying love for him on national TV.

He straightens up and chuckles breathlessly against his mouth, feeling the slick hot slide of his shaft against his stomach. His hand comes to grasp him firmly, jerking him off in smooth, long strokes. He kisses him back now, deep and ravenous, and he feels untamed and set free, his other hand coming to grip his shoulder, blunt nails digging into muscle. ]

This is never too much. You make me crazy, do you know that? [ He's biting at his lip now, dragging him feverishly into another kiss, greedy and aggressive. Noctis will always be here to meet him halfway. He will always be here to catch him, to fall into the madness together. ] C'mon. Quick shower, and we're getting out. I'm turning into a prune.

[ It's not that he ever forgot the depths that he wanted Noctis. He'd buried it away as deep and as far as he could when they were separated because what else could he do? It wasn't as if he was able to stay by his side when he knew doing so would risk everything they've worked toward but then being away from him was just as hard. Distracting himself with work had done something to keep him occupied, and spending time with Aranea had worked as well, but nothing came close to this. ]

I've some idea, yes. [ It's half-muffled into the kiss, muttered distractedly while he does his best to kiss Noctis within an inch of his life, both of them still needing to rinse off but he doesn't care. He could trade lazy handjobs with him in the bath and tumble into bed and sleep for the entire night and be happy, shower be damned. That's what Noctis does to him - makes him forget every inch of all that tight-laced propriety and settle it aside in favor of want, pure and simple.

One hand drops between them, stroking over the curve of Noctis' cock in turn while his own hips push up, fucking into the hand jerking him off, aided by the slickness of the bath and soap from earlier, his own moving just as quickly. Between that and the kissing, the heat simmers in his belly embarrassingly fast, but then Noctis is urging him to the shower and maybe that will give him a moment to breathe. The press of nails in his shoulder recedes as he pulls away a little, slowly drawing back, releasing Noctis' cock a little grudgingly. ] Better there than messing perfectly clean sheets or the bath, yes.

[ He drags Noctis in for another quick kiss like he can't stop himself, can't get enough and then pulls back before either of them lose themselves in it, fumbling for his glasses. ] After you. I'll drain the bath.

You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to do it alone.

[ Noctis grumbles good-naturedly, but he's climbing out of the bath, gripping the side so he doesn't slip and crack his head open or something. It's a very real fear, okay -- Noctis might be the chosen king, the lightbringer or whatever, but death by bathtub is definitely not the way he wants to go. He's reluctant to release him, already tingling and hard under his attentions. But the thing is, right now, they have just about all the time in the world. They're not in a rush to gorge themselves on these stolen moments. And then he feels something strange, an odd sense of contentment that settles over the fervid urgency.

They don't have to hurry when there's nowhere else to be, and he finds himself smiling like an idiot as he watches him do something as mundane as drain the tub. And yes, yes -- he can't get enough of him even if they don't have to hurry. He can't have enough of the way they kiss, the way he makes him feel like he could do just about anything. He's stepping towards the shower reluctantly, as if unwilling to be parted from him. It should be stupid, really, but Noctis doesn't care. This is the first time he really, truly has the love of his life, when everything is starting to fall into place, and he can't imagine ever giving it up.

Turning on the shower, he pokes his head out of the stall. ] C'mon, hurry up. This stall's too big for one person. [ No, it isn't. But it's a little too big right now and Noctis hates missing him. ]

I have no intentions of letting you tend to that alone.

[ Ignis glances over his shoulder to make sure that he's actually going to start the shower and not just watching, but of course he is, dripping water on the ground, looking soft and sweet. Ignis can't even be surprised or irritated at the water on the ground; he knew it, knew what he was getting into, what to expect and he watches Noctis make his way to the shower as if each step is more difficult than the last. It's terribly endearing, but it also makes Ignis work quicker in response.

The drain is pulled and Ignis steps one long leg out of the bath, then the other, cock bobbing with the motion. He fetches two towels on the way and settles them and his glasses on the counter near the shower stall and then finishes the rest of the way there, rather pleased neither of them fell, because that'd be their luck at this point, wouldn't it? ]

On my way.

[ He steps in a moment later, grimacing when the spray of water hits him and he's reminded he really needs to rinse his hair out but he's not about to steal the water from Noctis; even here he'd give him anything, everything. Ignis' hand drops back down and curls around Noctis' cock, irritation of conditioner long forgotten in the span of the few moments it takes him to look over the lean, naked line of him, flushed pink from the bath. ]

Gorgeous.

[ It's a soft murmur under his breath before he steps in for another kiss, hand sliding gently down so his palm strokes the underside of Noctis' cock and cups his balls, pushing him up against the cool wall of the shower. ]

Iggy.

[ Noctis playfully, breathlessly chides when he corners him, gasping with pleasure when he feels his hand slide along his cock and his balls, and he finds himself twitching in his palm, aching and so hard and his heart pounding in his chest. Looking up at him hungrily, an arm sliding around his lean waist, Noctis tries to nudge him back, letting go only to run his hands through Ignis' hair. They have to rinse the conditioner out, baby, and he catches his mouth again to draw him into another kiss.

He's rocking into his hand shamelessly, already leaking into his palm, sticky and eager. He cannot help the flare of affection at that praise, keening softly against his mouth. Ignis might deny him nothing, might give him everything, but it falls on Noctis too to do the same, sharing the water without question. In here, they are equals, and in between kisses he pants. ]

I can never have enough. Let me just --

[ There, he's rinsing it out of his hair. He's gently nipping at his bottom lip, full to bursting with love and sealing his body against his own, free hand coming down to curl around Ignis' dick as well, thick and full and bringing both of theirs together, lining up both of them to slide against each other, all velvet heat and slick friction. There, better? ] Love you.

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