[ Did Noctis look at it a lot? He's sure he would have looked at it a lot. Noctis is still, turned in his bed to give the greatest ass in all of Eos his full and undivided attention.
The crotch is really, really nice, too, but right now Noctis is wondering if he can bounce crackers off his butt and halfway to asking Ignis if he pours his incredible body in his clothes every morning because tight. ]
Turn around again so I can see, baby. [ A beat. ] Do we call each other baby?
[ Whatever he expected, it's not that, though he supposes that he probably should have. Ignis resists the urge to turn and examine it; it isn't as if he hasn't seen it multiple times given that he was born with it.
Still, the compliment is...appreciated, in a way. Ignis barely resists the urge to laugh once more and instead heads to the door when Gladiolus (he assumes) knocks. A set of straws is passed to him in a little cardboard box along with Gladiolus' lopsided smirk, though he closes the door on that.
One straw is placed in the drink and then Ignis comes back to the bed with ice water, settling on the bed next to him once more, careful to make certain it doesn't jostle too much with the weight of him settling. ]
You do, though I'm not quite certain I've ever had the compulsion to do so.
[ Gently, he slides a hand under where pillow meets the back of Noctis' head and eases the water glass closer. ]
Easy, now. Take a few sips of this and then we'll debate pet names and their uses.
[ It's good that Ignis resisted the urge to examine it, because Noctis is too busy getting himself visually reacquainted with that particular work of art, and he pliantly follows along, sitting up to take a sip of water -- then plenty of it, because he's thirsty in ways that, right now, don't have anything to do with how smoking hot his husband is.
But he finishes the water in record time, more intent on plumbing currently unknown depths in regards to Ignis' affections than he is on asking for another glass of water. ]
I was never much one for pet names, unfortunately.
[ The water is drained and gently, Ignis pries the glass from his hand and kisses it, soft and lingering and smiles as he goes to get another one. If he walks a little bit slower, lets Noctis eye his ass while he does it, well, they're married. It's nothing that he hasn't seen before, right? ]
I call you darling, most of the time. Sweetheart, sometimes, usually in response to you. You're the far more inventive one when it comes to nicknames, I'm afraid. I believe Gladiolus, a mutual friend of ours, said that I tend to use nicknames that an old woman would use.
[ He'd rolled his eyes at the time but it wasn't wrong. He brings the glass of water back rather than bringing the pitcher over (may as well give Noctis a look every time, right?) and settles back on the bed to hand it to him. ]
[ Noctis takes it but doesn't drink, and oh did he have a fine view of that ass all the way there and back. Ignis moves so elegantly, so gracefully -- every movement efficient. He's enraptured, and he sidles as close as he can when Ignis settles on the bed next to him.
Oh, this is good. He's pressing himself up beside him, and gives Ignis' thigh a comforting little pat. ] You're much hotter than an old woman. [ A beat. ] I should call you Hot Stuff.
[ Urging Noctis not to move isn't going to get him anywhere; he has a feeling that within five minutes he's going to forget what he's asked anyway, so instead, Ignis delicately starts to edge closer after pushing a hand against the line of Noctis' collarbone to still him. His shoes stay on, his suspenders stay fastened but he leans himself back against the headboard at Noctis' side and cards fingers through his hair again, smoothing his bangs. ]
Thank you. [ What a ringing endorsement regarding Ignis' potential attractiveness. Of course, a moment later, Noctis follows it up and Ignis rolls his eyes to the ceiling, unspeakably fond. ] Please, no. I'll take 'baby' over that.
[ The young king hums contentedly, woozy and happy to press back against his hand. He's getting tired, and he's handing the water back to him as he yawns. That Ignis is coming closer is heartening, and he insinuates himself right by his side, under his adviser's arm. ]
[ Ah. He should have figured. Ignis delicately toes his shoes off and drops one leg and then the other over the side of the bed so he can drop them onto the ground. There's nothing for the outfit he's wearing but it's comfortable enough. ]
I'm not surprised in the slightest. If you want to get some rest, I'll be here when you wake and we can figure out something for you to eat.
[ His arm winds around Noctis' shoulders, scooting down enough that Noctis can brace his head against the line of a bicep, and Ignis can cradle him properly. Quieter, pressed into the mess of his hair, almost inaudible: ]
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[ Did Noctis look at it a lot? He's sure he would have looked at it a lot. Noctis is still, turned in his bed to give the greatest ass in all of Eos his full and undivided attention.
The crotch is really, really nice, too, but right now Noctis is wondering if he can bounce crackers off his butt and halfway to asking Ignis if he pours his incredible body in his clothes every morning because tight. ]
Turn around again so I can see, baby. [ A beat. ] Do we call each other baby?
no subject
Still, the compliment is...appreciated, in a way. Ignis barely resists the urge to laugh once more and instead heads to the door when Gladiolus (he assumes) knocks. A set of straws is passed to him in a little cardboard box along with Gladiolus' lopsided smirk, though he closes the door on that.
One straw is placed in the drink and then Ignis comes back to the bed with ice water, settling on the bed next to him once more, careful to make certain it doesn't jostle too much with the weight of him settling. ]
You do, though I'm not quite certain I've ever had the compulsion to do so.
[ Gently, he slides a hand under where pillow meets the back of Noctis' head and eases the water glass closer. ]
Easy, now. Take a few sips of this and then we'll debate pet names and their uses.
no subject
But he finishes the water in record time, more intent on plumbing currently unknown depths in regards to Ignis' affections than he is on asking for another glass of water. ]
Do I like you call me? I think I would.
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[ The water is drained and gently, Ignis pries the glass from his hand and kisses it, soft and lingering and smiles as he goes to get another one. If he walks a little bit slower, lets Noctis eye his ass while he does it, well, they're married. It's nothing that he hasn't seen before, right? ]
I call you darling, most of the time. Sweetheart, sometimes, usually in response to you. You're the far more inventive one when it comes to nicknames, I'm afraid. I believe Gladiolus, a mutual friend of ours, said that I tend to use nicknames that an old woman would use.
[ He'd rolled his eyes at the time but it wasn't wrong. He brings the glass of water back rather than bringing the pitcher over (may as well give Noctis a look every time, right?) and settles back on the bed to hand it to him. ]
no subject
Oh, this is good. He's pressing himself up beside him, and gives Ignis' thigh a comforting little pat. ] You're much hotter than an old woman. [ A beat. ] I should call you Hot Stuff.
no subject
Thank you. [ What a ringing endorsement regarding Ignis' potential attractiveness. Of course, a moment later, Noctis follows it up and Ignis rolls his eyes to the ceiling, unspeakably fond. ] Please, no. I'll take 'baby' over that.
no subject
[ The young king hums contentedly, woozy and happy to press back against his hand. He's getting tired, and he's handing the water back to him as he yawns. That Ignis is coming closer is heartening, and he insinuates himself right by his side, under his adviser's arm. ]
So baby it is. I'm really tired, baby.
no subject
I'm not surprised in the slightest. If you want to get some rest, I'll be here when you wake and we can figure out something for you to eat.
[ His arm winds around Noctis' shoulders, scooting down enough that Noctis can brace his head against the line of a bicep, and Ignis can cradle him properly. Quieter, pressed into the mess of his hair, almost inaudible: ]
I am very glad that you're alright, darling.