PSL: Noctis

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

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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.