nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ Really, you shouldn't say things like that to Noctis. He's sleepy, yes, and would definitely love to settle in and sleep, nestled together with Ignis, but he remembers the wild look in his eyes, which pushes the necessity for it further back than it usually would. ]

You're not keeping me up. [ Technically true. It's Noctis that's consciously keeping himself up despite encroaching drowsiness. It's his worry that left to his own devices, Ignis would let his imagination run wild, that he would stew, alone, in the nightmares that had so ruthlessly wrenched him to consciousness. ] Is it still bothering you, that nightmare?

Liar.

[ A sweet one, though, and Ignis doesn't want to fight it. He's calmed down significantly, but knows that sleep is going to be out of reach for a while. It's stupid to keep Noctis up to suffer with him, especially when he needs sleep but the low rumble of his voice is comforting.

A few more moments to make sure that his subconscious gets the idea that Noctis is really alive and hopefully doesn't decide to have awful nightmares any longer, and then he'll try to rest again. Would that he had the power to fall asleep anywhere like their king possessed. ]

Do you ever feel as though something is too good to be true?

[ Like one day he'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream; Noctis will be in the ground and the rest of them will be dealing with the ruins of Insomnia. ]

Every morning, when I wake up next to you.

[ Yes. Yes, of course. It's not Noctis being glib; it's Noctis at his most honest. They've cheated death, thwarted the prophecy's blood price, but to what end? Noctis thinks about it sometimes, and he knows that his life had been bought, essentially, by his dearest friends' hard work and sacrifice.

He nuzzles against him quietly, soberly, nuzzling against his cheek before resting his chin against the top of Ignis' head, feeling the rise and fall of his body. It's a simple thing, feeling him draw breath. But it's more important than anything else in the world, to know that Ardyn hadn't claimed Ignis' life too, after all. He has killed so many, and caused the deaths of so much more, Ignis is not one of them. ]

And you?

[ Oh. Oh. He doesn't know what to say to that because sometimes, Noctis' raw honesty is so much that it's practically overwhelming. He's silent for a long moment, just soaking in the sweetness of it, resisting the urge to think that it's ridiculous that Noctis could have his choice of anyone and he's chosen him. It's a ridiculous thought and he's not prone to self-deprecation; it's just the illness and he knows it. ]

Sometimes I think about what could have been.

[ What could have happened, if they had failed. There's a million different ways things could have gone even worse; Noctis could have truly died out there with Lunafreya. Noctis could have died a dozen times over and it was pure fucking luck that saved him at points, not just the combined efforts of his friends. It's terrifying to think about and dwelling on it won't help anyone.

Ignis presses a lingering kiss to his pulse, stroking his sock-clad toes against Noctis' ankle gently. ]

Forgive me. Fever and lack of sleep mean I'm particularly prone to melancholy, I suppose.

It's all right.

[ He nudges back against him warmly, appreciating the kiss pressed to his pulse, the sweetness of Ignis' tender gesture. There are shadows in Ignis that he can't yet reach, but Noctis knows the value of patience, knows that it will take time to fully process what happened, and how to move forward together.

He's seeking out his hand, twining their fingers together as he raises it to his lips, warm and almost worshipful. Ignis might be ill, but it will pass, like dark clouds that only blot out the sun for a few moments. He's not certain if it'll be the same for the possibilities that he notices Ignis finds himself contemplating -- Noctis would be lying if he said he hadn't dwelt on that, either. ]

Tell me more about it. [ He wants to listen, he wants Ignis to let him in. Maybe then Ignis will be able to sleep better, knowing the burden is shared. ]

[ He feels ridiculous the more he talks about all of this; it's not as if Noctis would ever judge him for it, but at the same time, Ignis knows that he has his own things that he's going through. Of course, a relationship is a partnership, too. Noctis would want to know. Ignis is more than aware he's walking himself around in mental circles and talking about it will be more use than anything else.

The kiss to his fingers gets a soft noise in response, Ignis reaching out to graze fingertips over the curve of his jaw, the pout of his lower lip. He's so lovely sometimes that it strikes Ignis all over again and he feels silly for being almost flustered by it; he's far too old for that. ]

Ardyn was successful. You were - we lost you to the Astrals, the crystal, the ring. You fulfilled your destiny and he was defeated, but not before they took you, too. It wasn't...the situation itself was awful, but the worst was feeling so helpless. You had a duty to fulfill and I understood that, even in a dream, but that did not make it any easier to accept.

No, I guess it wouldn't.

[ Noctis says quietly, after a long silence. How much worse it must be for the people who love him -- for Ignis, Gladio, Prompto, to be haunted by the possibility of failure. Dying, he supposes, is easier than living through loss, because at least it ends. Not that Noctis wants to die, mind; even if he's prepared for the eventuality.

Sometimes, he thinks in his more private moments, if it might be better if he did, after all. A life to pay for all the others who have given theirs up for his sake along the way. But he owes his days to his people and their loved ones, he owes it to them to restore their home.

He leans into Ignis' fingers, eyes lidding at the delicate touch. This is not the rambling of a delirious man -- it's Ignis naming the ghosts that haunt him before they become a noose around his neck.

Leaning in close to lay a soft kiss to his chin, his cheek, he murmurs. ] Now is probably a good time to remind you that you're the strongest, bravest man I know. Not just anyone would charge in and demand the favor of the old kings. You --

[ His fingers come to rub over where the ring had been on Ignis', and he takes that to his lips, pressing a kiss over it, too. ] You're never helpless. You'll always find a way -- that's the kind of person you've always been.

[ Part of him hates this - he's always depended on being strong enough to be Noctis' shield of a different sort, so baring any sort of weakness feels even more strange. But it is Noct. He knows him, trusts him. He loves him. If he can't trust Noct with this, then what is he doing?

Besides, it feels better to get it out, to tell him about it. It never came to pass; Noctis is fine, warm and solid underneath Ignis' hand and he's grateful for that. It's a gift and he isn't going to squander it. Noctis leans into the touch and Ignis sighs quietly. Sometimes, he's overwhelmed with it: with how much he loves Noctis, with how grateful and lucky he is and moments like this make it all the clearer.

The sickness may be a portion of it; he feels absolutely horrendous but knows that he'll get well soon enough and dwelling on it won't help. It may make everything seem all the worse, but he's aware enough to realize it and compensate for it. ]

Flattery will get you everywhere, Highness.

[ He tilts his head up to it, like a flower to the sun and feels himself warm in a way that has nothing to do with his fever at Noct's gentle touch and kiss. ]

I'll do everything in my power to make certain your trust in me is never misplaced.

I'd hope so. I plan to get everywhere with you.

[ Look at him, still so beautiful when sick and looking like death warmed over -- and Noctis knows this is love, full and unrelenting and joyous, and when Ignis tilts his head up to him, when he accepts his kiss and his touch like it's the only thing in the world he wants, Noctis' heart sings. He never thought he'd have this again, he thinks, he never thought this kind of contentment would sit in his chest, so close to bursting. ]

In here, I'm your lover, not your king. [ He kisses the side of his mouth now, then his lips. If he gets sick again, he gets sick again, he doesn't care. ] Now get some sleep, and I'll give you a bath when you wake.

Mmnn, a good thought to consider.

[ He should let Noctis sleep, though. It's late and they're both tired, one of them from sickness, the other from job duties. He's laid bare his nightmares and while it still felt raw and a little awful to consider, Noctis hasn't run from the room and he's still being terribly sweet. It's ridiculous, just how much he loves him. It feels absurd, thinking about it, how things could be so different if they didn't have this, but no. He was lucky enough to wake up in a world where Noctis would be asleep beside him and he wasn't going to squander that gift.

The kiss to his lips gets a slightly disgruntled little noise made against Noctis' mouth, but he doesn't pull back. He does squirm down onto the blankets and sheets and strokes his hand down the line of Noct's chest, ending at his hip, settling his head on the pillow. ]

I'll hold you to that in the morning.

LET'S PLAY {open post}

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