mumistheword | PSL: Noctis

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PSL: Noctis

Spoilers, emotions, and who knows what else may lurk here.

Ignis Scientia was not, in any way, a man who tended to overindulge.

In fact, even digging through his extraordinary memory, you might not have been able to dig up any occasions. The few things he enjoyed, he enjoyed in moderation. (There was never a second helping of cake.)

And you could very certainly never come up with another occasion when Ignis had been more than lightly buzzed, when it came to alcohol.

But there had been that day when the King had called Ignis in to tell him the terms of the treaty with Niffleheim, and Ignis had stood there watching Noct's reaction, watching the discussion, watching himself bow and take his leave after his prince, watching his heart shattered on the floor of the beautiful room that he'd used to love because Noct was a little happy, here, spending a little time with his father...

The next days had been difficult, Noctis trying to process the shift in circumstances. And Ignis had been by his side (or with his arms wrapped around him) - where he belonged, where he was wanted, and where he was needed.

But, last night, he had found himself on his own for the first time (Prompto had called in a boys' night out for Noct) and he had finally shattered. He'd found a bar and reached for the one way he could think of to turn his brain off, because it had just been too much.

Then... things had gotten a little blurry. He had come to his rooms under his own power, at least, he remembered snatches of that. But little else.

And now it was morning, and his head felt like it was being hammered in and out at the same time, the light too bright and his breathing too loud in his own ears.

But it was a morning, and he had things to do, so he reached for the nightstand to take his glasses and put them on to get started on coffee--

When he realized that he wasn't alone in the bed.

[ Honestly, the only reason Noct's been holding things together is because Ignis has been so completely nonplussed about the whole sorry situation. Sure, Ignis doesn't look happy about the treaty (a surrender to the Nifs in all but name) or about the news of Noctis's impending nuptials, but he hadn't said anything about it, not even one of the little hums of disapproval that Noct's all too familiar with. Noct has been the one who can barely keep his feelings off his face — a bitter mix of anger and disbelief, how can this be happening, how can everything change in the course of a single day — and who's been leaning into Ignis's side every chance he gets, seeking whatever comfort there is to be found.

He doesn't think that maybe he's hurting Ignis a little more every time he curls up in Ignis's arms. Doesn't think that Ignis is putting on a brave face as much as he is, that Ignis is just magnitudes better at it than Noct will ever be. Ignis is just like this, an unflappable, steady presence in Noct's life, and if Ignis can look so calm about this, then maybe it won't be as awful as Noct thinks it is.

That's what he tells himself, at least.

Which means that the last thing Noctis had expected to find after his night out with Prompto was Ignis completely smashed. He'd gone looking for his advisor to ask about his schedule the next day when it wasn't waiting for him, both of them spending the night in the Citadel out of necessity with so much to do in the week ahead. Finding Ignis hunched over the toilet in his ensuite, busy puking his guts out, had been a revelation. The smell wafting off of Ignis had made what was happening obvious enough, but still, Noct hadn't even thought that Ignis could get drunk.

He couldn't just leave Ignis there, not like this. And some part of him, the part that was greedily hoarding every dwindling bit of time the had left, wouldn't abide by calling Gladio or anyone else for help. Ignis was— well, whatever Ignis was to him, now, he wasn't going to let anyone else see Ignis like this.

It'd taken a lot more effort that Noct had liked to get Ignis cleaned up, changed into soft sleep pants and a t-shirt, and settled into bed, but he'd done it. And then he'd slipped onto the bed beside Ignis, a hand on Ignis's chest to feel the rise and fall of his breath, the steady beating of Ignis's heart, just to make sure that Ignis was really going to be okay.

By the time Ignis wakes up the next morning, Noctis has migrated to a more curled up position, slumped against the headboard with Ignis's head pillowed no on a pillow but on Noct's thigh. Noct's brow furrows as Ignis moves against him, and Noct turns his head with a soft grunt, clearly displeased, even still asleep, with the prospect of being woken up. ]

[ Ignis knows very, very well where his duty lies. He has always known, but this. What they have shared, it's been so beautiful and so good to them both that he's not managed to keep himself as far removed from it as he should have. Or kept Noctis as distant, either, but he is rather certain that was a lost cause in the first place.

But then the shoe dropped, and Ignis couldn't breathe with how badly it hurt.

Because he knows, knows for a fact, that if there is one other person who Noct has loved and adored for a long time (from their peers, at least), that is Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. The healer and guide and teacher. The magical friend whose loss has saddened Noctis for a long time.

A part of Ignis is utterly happy that Noct's chosen bride (even if not chosen with much input from either Noctis or his father) is not somebody who will make Noct's life miserable, who would be difficult to get along with, who would demand and demand and demand and not give anything in return. (Those are real dangers with arranged marriages in the nobility, Ignis knows, especially when one party is sensitive and gentle and quiet as Noct tends to be.) That part of him is relieved, because Noct has a chance for happiness, despite the direness of the situation.

Yet a part of him is crushed, because any hope he might have tried not to harbor, of remaining important to his amazing prince...

And yet another part was simply grieving. For them.

For days, Ignis has clung to his duty. He has clung to that first part of himself. Has kept on doing the right thing, because everyone deserves it.

But when there stopped to be a reason for him to hold on... he collapsed under the weight of the other two parts. Of the hopes that he shouldn't have had, of even a sliver of happiness. Of the awareness of...

Of how much he has loved Noctis, for years.

So yes. He drank to try to forget that, if only briefly. He forgot everything, even.

Now, it all comes back to him. With the familiar feeling of Noct's thigh beneath his cheek, with the well-known scent of Noct around him. With the faint grumble of not-awake-yet Noct that he can recognize under any circumstances.

And, of course, any thoughts of his own headache disappear as he looks up to see well enough the hunched-up shape of the prince above him.

Ignis's breath hitches, then he shifts, one hand coming up to press on Noct's thigh, just so, to not let him notice the weight has shifted. And he sets on to a series of motions with the idea of changing their positions, or at least letting Noct lie down into the bed so he can have the rest of his sleep comfortably. Without waking him up.

And yes, he knows that Noct can sleep on anyway, but... they are going to talk in a bit, anyway. Might as well indulge a little. He's not going to leave Noct sleeping in the bed alone, instead curling up around him in the (also familiar) way they have known to sleep well together.

Not theirs, anymore.

But only for an hour or two, Ignis can pretend. ]

[ It's the best night's rest that Noct's had in a week. He feels refreshed, comfortable and warm and full of a sense of general well-being, completely at odds with how he should feel when he was spending the night as someone's pillow. By all rights he should have a monumental crick in his neck. But he doesn't, and it's that strangeness that has him freezing up as he pulls himself from the grasp of sleep.

Freezing up and realizing that he's in someone's arms — and there's really only one person that could be.

He stares at Ignis's face, so close to his, smoothed out in sleep. Ignis looks tons better than he had the night before, at least, none of that sick pallor or the wretched twist of his mouth from what Noct could only assume was truly horrible nausea. Noct's never been black out drunk, but seeing Ignis like that is enough to put him off the idea entirely.

Ignis, drunk. He still doesn't have a clue why, and as much as he's loathe to wake Ignis up after finding him like that, there's not much time to delay. He wants to have this conversation before they get called away to their duties, which means they have only maybe an hour. Noct's probably going to need all that time to figure out what the hell's going on with Ignis, so he'd better get started.

He pokes — gently — at Ignis's shoulder. ]

Ignis? Hey, Ignis, wake up...

[ It doesn't take much more than the poke for Ignis to begin waking up - he is generally a light sleeper - and as wakefulness returns to his face, so does a pinched look of an ache behind the eyes.

Then he blinks his eyes open, squinting them a little to try to bring Noct's face into focus - barely possible, even from this close, or perhaps especially at this close -

And then

He smiles.

It's a small smile, easy and content, if only slightly blue. It gets pinched between his eyebrows soon. ]

Noct. [ A 'good morning' that is merely for them. For Noctis.

Then, back to mildly frowning as he braces himself. ]

I apologize for anything you may have noticed or remarked about, lasts night.

[ The greeting is nice and all, Noct won't deny that. If he has to be awake in the morning, curled up with Ignis and getting that smile directed his way is probably the best way for it to happen. Reflexively, Noctis finds himself smiling back, lips turning up in a little quirk of a smile, something small and intimate and expressly for Ignis.

But at the apology, Noct's smile vanishes, replaced by a faintly disbelieving stare. Anything he "may have noticed"? Like Ignis is going to get out of explaining what the hell was going on so easily.

Noctis lifts an eyebrow and gives Ignis's shoulder another poke. ]

Right. Like you getting so drunk that I found you puking your guts out?

[ Noctis has never exactly been one for subtlety. ]

[ Six, that smile. It takes Ignis's hungover breath the hell away, even slightly fuzzy as he sees it, and he wants to keep it forever, even as he knows it does not belong to him. (It never did. It never would.)

Then it melts into narrowed eyes, almost a glare, and a shoulder poke. And... Noctis a little angry is really almost as beautiful as Noctis smiling and how did he let himself fall this far?

He takes a deep breath and holds it, eyes finally fluttering away from the Prince's face. ]

Like that, yes. You were not supposed to see that.

The apology is honest. You are already dealing with plenty of things that range from unpleasant to worrying. I should not have added another to the list.

[ He is looking away. But that can't quite hide the hurt on his not-quite-as-calm-as-usual-thank-you-hangover face. And he is not letting go of how he is holding Noctis, either. ]

What?

[ Noct has to take a second to blink at Ignis, processing the apology, because it's just so... bizarre. So out of right field, completely unwarranted, not what he was getting at at all. And yet it's so perfectly Ignis that he can't help but blow out a breath in a sigh, irritation not at Ignis but at himself for making it sound like he was angry about finding Ignis puking his guts into the toilet. ]

No, no way, that's not what I mean. Ignis... [ He purses his lips, brow furrowing. It's not a burden to know that something's going on with his advisor, his friend, but it doesn't feel like he can come right out and say that. ] I mean, why were you drunk enough that you were puking your guts out?

[ Oh.

Ignis actually stops breathing for a moment. And his mind overrides for a moment. He knows the appropriate thing is to deflect it. But he also knows that look in Noct's eyes, and that the only way to stop him from digging into this is to hurt him. Which he should do, he should. He should make him start pushing away, start them settling on their proper places.

But he can't.

He bites his lip, hard, a punishment for his weakness. Swallows. Opens his eyes to look at Noct, because he is pretty certain of at least some of what he'll see, but he wants to see it. ]

I needed to forget, if only for one night... [ Slow, deep breath. ] That I seem to have developed totally inappropriate feelings. For somebody who is getting married, too.

As I said. I did not want to add to the list.

[ Noctis's eyes widen as Ignis speaks. At first, it's out of concern. What could Ignis, who prides himself on his memory, on knowing everything, possibly want to forget? And then he feels a rush of nausea, totally inappropriate and unfair, the sick burn of jealousy. Ignis... Ignis cares about someone. And Noctis is the prince, he knows why he can't say anything about his own feelings. He's just found out he's being married off as part of the treaty, after all.

But still. Still, he hates the idea of Ignis with anyone else, and he knows that's not fair. He doesn't have any right to feel that way, doesn't have any claim to Ignis's feelings. He knows that.

He's so busy fighting down the selfish recoil of hearing that Ignis likes someone, and wondering who they are, what kind of asshole wouldn't return Ignis's feelings — Ignis! Ignis who's pretty much the greatest guy in the world, even if he does nag Noct incessantly about eating his vegetables! — that it takes a second for the rest of what Ignis says to register.

And then Noctis does recoil, sitting bolt upright and staring at Ignis, mouth open in a very unflattering gape of shock. ]

You... You have inappropriate feelings? For me?

[ ... oh.

Ignis's sight is plenty good enough to make out the expression on Noct's face. And the headache that he's been trying to ignore since he opened his eyes slams hard behind them, with a vengeance of nausea, too. His hands curl up against his body for a moment, empty, cold, before he pushes himself to sit, keeping his distance.

Recoiling is the correct reaction, after all. ]

I apologize, Highness. [ He will keep it together. He will.

... except he doesn't, because it's been a while, of sharing intimacies and learning and teaching, and this changes it all, doesn't it? Ignis's voice breaks, just a little, with the very quiet, ] for everything.

[ The unflattering gaping with his mouth wide open apparently isn't going to be stopping any time soon, because what Ignis says makes zero sense. Why is Ignis apologizing? Oh, right, maybe because Noct's gaping like an idiot. That would do it.

He lunges forward, awkard in his attempts to throw himself closer to Ignis and clear up the misunderstanding all without doing something unforgivably dumb like accidentally headbutting Ignis. Yeah, that would suck, and probably Ignis is hungover enough to start throwing up again, which... yeck. No, that's not what he wants to do.

Noctis manages to just invade Ignis's personal space in the more normal way and grabs for one of Ignis's hands. He looks up at Ignis through the veil of his bangs, messy from sleep, still a little shellshocked with the revelation but earnest, entreating. ]

No! That's, shit, I'm really bad at this. You don't have to apologize. [ He flounders for a second, but he hates that awful, blank, formal look on Ignis's face. He hates that little crack in Ignis's voice, like Noct's hurt him. Better to just put it all out on the table and make an idiot of himself than leave Ignis like that. ] Me too. I've got, uh, totally inappropriate feelings for you, too.

[ It's automatic, to reach up to catch and steady Noct. That doesn't change anything, although the hold on his hand feels nice. Soothes, a tiny little bit, the bite of the earlier reaction.

Then, those words. And Ignis blinks. Raises his hand to brush away those bangs. Press a light finger across Noct's lips. Noct really should not say such things, how hurt would Lady Lunafreya be--

And then it hits him, what Noctis actually said, and h actually stops breathing, eyes wide. Fingers stroke the prince's cheek. ]

Noct? [ For once in his life, Ignis doesn't know what to say. Noct - Ignis truly tried to make sure to keep things light, not engaging. To not pull him closer, at every opportunity he had to. Because his life is already complicated, because there is no future, because to try to draw him in would be wrong, and here the words are and.

He loves me. Too.

These last days must have been hell on-- ]

Six, Noct. Come here. [ And he opens his arms to gather the prince close. ]

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PSL: Noctis

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... uh. Sorry for the many lots words?

I love it

okay good

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/gently resurrects