Chapter Text
For the first time in quite a while, Ignis was in the parlor for a reason other than seeing Gladio.
He served tea to King Regis, Noctis, and the representatives from Tenebrae, then placed the sugar and cream in front of Noctis. The young prince proceeded to spoon about half the bowl of sugar into his tea before taking a sip, shifting uncomfortably in the presence of the Tenebraean representatives. “Thank you, Ignis,” Regis nodded, sipping his own tea before speaking again, “As I’m sure you are aware, my son Noctis has agreed to marry Lady Lunafreya. This will strengthen the ties between Lucius and Tenebrae, which will further deter Nifelheim from overtaking Fenestala Manor.”
The dark-haired female representative set down her tea and nodded pensively, “I thank you for your concern of our manor, but can we be sure that this move will not paint a target onto both of our backs? We do not want the empire to see this move as one of targeted defiance.”
“Naturally we intend to protect the Nox Fleurets and the people of Tenebrae with this alliance. We plan to announce the engagement openly at the Lucian Ball. This opportunity will give us a chance to personally handle any concerns of Chancellor Izunia and Secretary Claustra.”
Ignis was sure he heard Noctis groan slightly at the mention of Chancellor Izunia. He moved to prepare teacakes for the Tenebraean representatives when he noticed movement outside the window.
Oh dear. This won’t end well.
To Ignis’s fear and delight, Gladio appeared at the window, shears in hand to trim the bushes by the window as he did every Wednesday. Gladio smirked and winked at Ignis, who returned the gesture with a subtle wink of his own. The gardener looked around the room, taking in the unusual crowd that filled the parlor. His smile grew wicked, as if he wanted to do something mischievous to tease Ignis who could only watch. The curve of Ignis’s lips dropped and he mouthed silently, “Don’t you dare.”
Gladio lifted the shears and started clipping the hedges, his movements slow and seductive, hips rolling. He bit his lip as though a task as lackluster as pruning shrubs sent ecstasy through his veins. He looked at Ignis and blew kisses, holding back laughter at the sour face Ignis was wearing.
“Ignis? Is everything alright?” King Regis asked, turning towards the butler with concern. “You look a bit flushed. Are you feeling ill?”
Ignis adjusted his glasses, hiding his face from the king. “I appreciate your concern, your majesty, but I am alright. If you don’t mind, I need to step out for a brief moment. Get a bit of fresh air. I am sorry for interrupting your negotiations.”
“It’s no trouble, Ignis,” the king responded. “Thank you for the tea. Expertly brewed as always.”
“Thank you for your kind words, your majesty,” Ignis responded with a bow, sparing a glance towards the window where Gladio was licking his lips in mock seduction. “I will return shortly.”
Once Ignis closed the parlor door with a soft click, he sprinted down the hall to the grand front entrance. “That fool,” Ignis murmured under his breath. “Doing that during a diplomatic meeting.”
Once outside, he turned the corner into the garden, spotting Gladio immediately. “Hey handsome,” Gladio cooed, his impish smile still plastered on his face. “You come to these parts often?”
“Get over here,” Ignis hissed, gesturing to Gladio to move away from the window and towards where he was standing at the entrance to the garden. Gladio sauntered towards Ignis, his smile never breaking, “C’mon Iggy. It was fun. I think deep down it made you laugh,” Gladio said, pulling Ignis’s gloved hand up to his chest and peeled away the glove, “I’ve overheard enough meetings to know they get pretty boring. I just wanted to see your beautiful smile.”
He kissed Ignis’s knuckles gently, flushing all of Ignis’s anger and irritation away as quickly as it had arrived. Ignis sighed, a defeated smile gracing his lips. “I know. But promise you won’t do that again. Imagine if King Regis had seen you gyrating seductively all over his shrubbery. Or worse.”
If Noct had seen that, I would never live it down.
“Oh, so you thought it was seductive?”
Ignis clicked his tongue, earning a peal of laughter from Gladio. “Don’t worry. I promise. Alright, I won’t keep you. Wouldn’t want them to get worried about you. But here, take this. Brought it for you,” Gladio said, tucking a small white jasmine flower into the front pocket of Ignis’s jacket.
“What does this one represent?”
“Whispered sweet nothings between lovers.”
“Will I get to hear those sweet nothings, or do I just get a flower to represent it?” Ignis asked, coyly.
Gladio chuckled. “For you, I whisper on command.” He kissed Ignis’s knuckles once again before rolling the glove back onto the butler’s hand. “Alright, alright. I’ve pulled you away too long. Go on. Get. I’ll see you later.”
Ignis pulled away from Gladio slowly, waving goodbye before hurrying back to the parlor. He couldn’t help forgiving Gladio. He had made him smile after all. Ignis shook the airy smile from his face and tucked the jasmine flower into his jacket pocket before reentering the parlor. He wordlessly served teacakes to the guests and his lieges, careful not to interrupt their conversation. But when he served Noctis, the prince gave him a shit-eating grin that meant at least one other person had seen what transpired between him and Gladio.
“So last week, they were working on preparations for the Lucian Ball?” Gladio asked, leaning against the parlor window, chugging the bottle of water Ignis had handed to him.
“In part,” Ignis said, matter-of-factly. “Preparations started quite some time ago. The Lucian Ball is quite a large event, and planning begins months in advance. The meeting was about a somewhat related matter regarding our relations with Tenebrae. I’m sure Noct has mentioned the engagement to you as well.”
“Yeah. He seems to get along with Lady Lunafreya at least,” Gladio shrugged. “Kinda sucks that he has to have a political marriage though. I couldn’t do it. I’d be gone every night having an affair with a handsome butler who has the most gorgeous eyes and makes the best meals in Lucius.”
“Well he sounds positively lovely,” Ignis smirked. “Introduce me someday. I’d certainly like to meet him.”
Gladio did a spit take with his water. His laughter is as bold and bright as the sun and radiates a warmth that makes the butler smile. “Did I mention hilarious?” Gladio spluttered between laughs. “Because he’s also hilarious.”
Ignis sat down on a stool he had moved by the window, leaning out the window to catch the midsummer breeze. “The groundskeepers must have quite a task ahead of them to prepare for the Lucian Ball,” Ignis sighed, resting his arms on the windowsill.
“Yeah,” Gladio hummed, moving closer to Ignis so their arms brushed against each other. “It’s always pretty rough. Gets so hot this time of year. Not only do we have to make sure the gardens are immaculate, we’re also charged with preparing flower arrangements for the ballroom. And since Noct is getting engaged to Lady Lunafreya… well, I’m sure you know what that means.”
Ignis nodded, “Sylleblossoms.”
“Yeah…”
Sylleblossoms only grew in Tenebrae, which meant if they were going to be planted in Lucius, they would need imported soil, a special greenhouse, and most importantly, meticulous care. Ignis had only seen them once outside of Tenebrae in all his years as a butler for the Lucius Caelum family, but soft blue flowers had left a lasting impression. “King Regis is hiring some temp workers to take care of the grounds before the ball, but I’m one of the few people in Lucius who knows how to grow sylleblossoms. Once they arrive…” Gladio paused, sucking in a nervous breath, “I won’t get to see you as much.”
Ignis threw his arms around Gladio, pulling the gardener into a tight embrace. “It’s alright. Duty to the crown comes first. It’s not as though we won’t see each other at all. We’ll still have some time during the weekends.”
“Yeah,” Gladio muttered, wrapping his strong arms around Ignis’s waist. “I know. I just… I guess I just want to be around you. Like, all the time. We’ve never spent more than a day or two without at least seeing each other. A whole week sounds like hell.”
“We’ll manage. Besides, if you absolutely must see me, I’m always here,” Ignis whispered, slowly wrapping Gladio’s long black hair around his fingers.
“Oh, so you never actually leave this room?” Gladio asked with a smirk. Ignis laughed and gave him a small nudge with his shoulder, never breaking their contact. “That’ll make the affair tough if my handsome butler can’t leave the parlor. But I’ll make it work.”
They continued to chat, no longer hugging, but their fingers weaved together on the window ledge. At the end of their time together, Ignis found it even harder to let go of Gladio’s hand, not knowing if today would be the last time that they could stay tangled together at their window for a while. But they eventually parted wordlessly, Gladio kissing Ignis’s temple.
That evening on the windowsill, Ignis found Gladio’s message: white clover. Ignis gathered them into a bundle and placed them in a small round vase (the same one he had used the first time Gladio left flowers for him) before taking a seat in his usual chair. He lifted the now worn book that was filled with colored page markers and notes and flipped to the page he was looking for.
White clover: think of me.
“Of course, Gladio,” he whispered to no one in particular.
“Hey, Specs, why’ve you been so mopey lately – ow!” Noctis shouted as Ignis accidentally pricked him with the pin he was using to tailor his suit pants. “Geez, a simple ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ would have worked.”
“It’s not my fault you keep squirming,” Ignis rolled his eyes, securing the pin in the cuff. “And I have not been mopey.”
“You spent fifteen minutes staring out the parlor window yesterday,” Noctis deadpanned, fidgeting as Ignis moved to pin the hem of the other ankle. “And that’s just what Prompto and I saw. I don’t know how long you were actually there.”
“Are you admitting that you and Prompto spy on me?” Ignis asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
“We weren’t spying on you. Not this time anyway,” Noctis retorted, holding back a smile. “But seriously, you’ve been bummed out for like two weeks now. What gives?”
Ignis rolled the cuff upward until it matched with the other leg, setting a pin in place. “Gladio is tending to the sylleblossoms in the west garden, and he and I have different schedules. As you know, I have free time in the mornings while you are in classes, but Gladio’s free time is in the evenings. With the preparations for the Lucian Ball, however, I do not have the time to leave the manor, and Gladio cannot leave his post at the greenhouse. Our time together has become quite limited. I had promised to see him on weekends, but the preparations for the ball have become quite demanding, so I haven’t seen Gladio in nearly two weeks. I’m embarrassed to say that I had grown quite accustomed to Gladio’s presence. So please excuse me if I seem mopey to you.”
Noctis stilled, leaving them both in silence save for the slight rustle of fabric as Ignis worked on the tailoring of Noctis’s suit pants. If Ignis dropped a pin, its sound would seem deafening. After a solid minute of uncomfortable quietness, Noctis coughed and said in a voice hardly above a whisper, “What if I gave you tomorrow evening off? That way you can see Gladio. I can go get dinner with Prompto or something so you don’t have to cook. It’s just depressing to see you so down.”
Ignis dropped the pin he was working with. “The preparations for the ball are quite hectic as it is, your highness. I couldn’t possibly take leave when we’re already so busy.”
“It’s not like you’d be gone all day. Just an hour or two,” Noctis responded, his voice rushed, “You really need to see him, Ignis. No offense, but you’re kinda depressing everyone. You’re probably slowing things down with how miserable you’ve been.”
Ignis’s hand stilled, unsure of what to make of the information. On one hand, he knew his duty to the royal line was the highest priority, but on the other, his heart ached for Gladio. He missed the man’s strong, tattooed arms. The sharp angle of his stubble-lined jaw. The way his hair fell around his shoulders and down his strong back. The way his lips felt against Ignis’s own as if they were parts of a matched set. He could go on for hours, but Ignis knew that he couldn’t waste all day thinking about Gladio’s loveliness, even though he wanted to do so. “Alright,” Ignis finally replied. “I’ll take the evening off as long as Gladio is fine with such a thing.”
Noctis smirked, “Oh, he will be.”
Ignis smiled and stood up, placing his hands on his hips. “This isn’t just a rouse to get out of your obligations and get up to no good with Prompto, is it?”
Noctis clutched his chest in mock offense. “I would never!”
The laughter Noctis failed to hold back said otherwise, but Ignis didn’t mind.
Ignis waited for Gladio on the veranda overlooking the west garden. He looked at the dishes, both covered with cloches, and wondered if the food he prepared was good enough. It was rare that they ever had anything that would qualify as a date, and this one in particular felt special. The perfectionist in Ignis was frantically questioning every decision. Were skewers nice enough? Not like Ignis had much time to make anything else, but he still questioned his choice. Were the potatoes mashed adequately? Did Gladio even like asparagus? He wondered if he had even made the asparagus correctly. He knew how he liked them cooked, but Noctis refused to eat any sort of vegetable, so he never got a second opinion. He tugged at the sleeves of his white striped shirt, fiddling with the black buttons, mind caught up in anxious thinking.
“You always mess with your sleeves when you’re nervous,” a familiar voice said softly behind him.
Gladio stood, just past the veranda door, one hand relaxed in his jeans pocket and the other holding a bouquet of pink camellia and striped carnations. His hair was clearly damp, freshly showered, and he wore a fitted black shirt that definitely didn’t get worn in the garden. Gladio rubbed his neck, hand pressed firmly against his wet hair. “Sorry I’m a little late. I was pretty gross. Didn’t think you’d wanna see me when – mmph!”
The gardener was cut off by Ignis’s lips pressed against the gardener’s. A long, needy kiss filled with yearning and impatience. Ignis’s fingers tangled in the long wet strands of Gladio’s hair, pulling him closer, hungry for attention. Gladio pressed his free hand against the small of Ignis’s back, pulling him closer and reassuring the butler that he longed for Ignis as well. When they finally broke apart, Ignis was panting sloppily, and Gladio was grinning from ear to ear. “Guess I should stop visiting you more often if this is how I get greeted.”
Ignis turned bright scarlet, adjusting his glasses, which had become skewed in the near-assault on Gladio’s mouth that he had just initiated. “Don’t make it a habit,” Ignis muttered, exhaling gracelessly.
Gladio handed Ignis the bouquet, and Ignis looked over the array of pink and white. “They're breathtaking,” Ignis whispered, sighing sweetly, “Tell me what they mean.”
Gladio held his hands over Ignis’s, rubbing his thumb along the butler’s knuckles, “The pink camellias mean longing,” he responded, his voice a low and tender purr in Ignis’s ear, “The striped carnations have several meanings, some that aren’t so sweet like refusal. But in this case, their meaning is I wish I could be with you.”
“You always know exactly what to say, even without words,” Ignis hummed in response.
“You make it easy,” Gladio smiled. “Now about dinner…”
Ignis laughed and led Gladio towards the table with the covered dishes. “I didn’t have much time, so I just made something simple. But I hope it’s to your liking.”
“Well, if it’s half as good as the company, it’s probably pretty tasty.”
Ignis uncovered the plates and sat down across from Gladio. The gardener looked absolutely filled with joy at the sight of Ignis’s cooking. “I can’t believe you made skewers! They’re one of my all-time favorites. How did you know?”
The butler smiled, completely surprised by Gladio’s remark. “I’m delighted to hear! It was an absolute guess.”
“You wanna know what my all-time favorite food is?” Gladio asked, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“What would that be?” Ignis asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Gladio leaned across the table, looking directly into Ignis’s eyes, and whispered, “Cup noodles.”
Ignis’s face twisted, trying to hold back his perplexity (and mild disgust) at the comment, “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious alright.”
“I don’t think we can see each other anymore,” Ignis said, his face deadpanned, but his voice betraying him in attempt to hold back laughter.
“I know, it’s weird. But I love the stuff! It’s got that perfect combination of flavors.”
“I’m going to need you to stop and re-evaluate your life choices,” Ignis smirked, taking a bite of asparagus. At least the food wasn't cold. He had one less thing to worry about that wasn’t Gladio’s poor taste in meals.
They ate and chatted, about work and the preparations for the ball. Gladio said that he liked working with the sylleblossoms, but it was incredibly boring to stay in one place. Ignis also shared how his workload had increased, sometimes stretching into the morning. As Noctis’s head butler, he was charged with ensuring everything for Noct was fully prepared. He tasted and tailored and corresponded to letters regarding the ball, and he saw firsthand how much the event was causing Noct stress. “He doesn’t seem to be thrilled with the prospect of the ball,” he mentioned, Gladio watching, intrigued, finishing one of his skewers. “He cares for Lady Lunafreya, but at the same time, he isn’t too keen on the concept of marrying her.”
“He’s young,” Gladio shrugged. “Political marriage isn’t at the top of any twenty year-old’s to-do list. I think he just wants to still be a kid for a while, spend time with his friends. It’s hard to do that when you’re forced into the politics of royalty.” Gladio took a sip of wine and leaned back in his seat. “Speaking of Noct’s friends, have you noticed Prompto’s been sulking a lot lately since Noct and Lady Lunafreya got engaged? I think it’s bothering him more than Noct.”
Ignis raised an eyebrow. “I suppose he would be a bit upset that he won’t be able to spend as much time with Noct after the wedding.”
“Nah, it’s more than that,” Gladio shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “I think he likes Noct.”
Gladio held Ignis’s attention fully, completely captivated by the gardener’s insinuations, “What makes you say that?”
“He’s always sneaking glances at Noct when he thinks no one is looking. And he always wants Noct’s attention. Oh, and the touching. Prompto’ll try to get close to Noct and touch him in some way. Nothing weird, just like slapping him on the back or elbowing him in the shoulder.”
Ignis thought back to the last few times he saw Prompto and Noctis together. Everything Gladio said made sense. He wondered if Prompto was really good at hiding his emotions or if Ignis was just blind to them. “It could never work…” Ignis murmured. “The crown prince of Lucius could never marry someone like Prompto.”
“Yeah,” Gladio muttered. They sat in silence for a while, finishing up their meals, but not talking. Not sure what to say after that conversation. The air around them felt heavy, and every word that he wanted to say felt caught in his mouth. Finally, Ignis broke the silence, his voice thick and cautious, “Could you imagine that though? If Noct escorted Prompto to events like the Lucian Ball?”
Gladio stroked his chin for a moment with a soft hum, then pushed his hair into his face in mockery of Noctis’s long bangs. “Hello Madam Secretary,” he said, imitating Noctis’s voice as best as he could with his own deep timbre. “I’d like to introduce – Iggy, stop laughing. You’re making this impossible – I’d like to introduce my boyfriend, Prompto. After the ball, we will be going fishing and Prompto will take no less than twenty-seven pictures of me standing in the same place for five hours.”
Ignis was howling with laughter at Gladio’s impersonation. The gardener smiled and let go of his hair, letting it fall messily around his face. “You’re quite talented, Gladio,” Ignis smiled, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Gladio smiled, “Someday, you will learn all of my secrets.”
“Tell me one,” Ignis coaxed, reaching across the table to interlock his fingers with Gladio’s.
“I want to kiss you right now,” Gladio breathed, his voice low and seductive.
“That’s no secret,” Ignis responded.
“I guess it’s not.”
They met halfway across the table, Ignis’s hands pressed firmly against the table while Gladio’s cupped his face. The kiss was heavy and sweet. Soft, but filled with longing. It wasn’t sloppy like their first kiss that night, but no less needy. When their lips fell apart, Gladio leaned forward and whispered into Ignis’s ear, “Iggy, I want to show you something.”
“Alright,” Ignis whispered in response, following Gladio’s lead with laced fingers.
“Do you trust me to lead you?” Gladio asked, holding both of Ignis’s hands in his own large, calloused palms.
Ignis nodded.
“Close your eyes,” Gladio ordered, pulling Ignis along. They were off of the terrace now, walking through the grounds, empty except for the two of them. The sounds of the beginning of the night filled the air around them. Crickets and cicadas buzzed and the summer breeze rustled the nearby trees. They walked for a few minutes, Ignis never opening his eyes. “Gladio, where are we…”
“Shh…” Gladio hushed, continuing to pull Ignis along. “We’re almost there.”
They continued to walk, footsteps softly crunching against freshly cut grass. Gladio let go of one of Ignis’s hands, and the faint sound of a keychain jingled. A lock clicked and a door opened, hardly creaking on its hinges. “Just a few more steps,” Gladio said, leading Ignis onto a hard floor. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
Ignis opened his eyes, and his mouth dropped. Surrounding him and Gladio from nearly every angle were light blue flowers with wispy petals and white pistils. “The sylleblossoms,” he whispered, drinking in the sight of the beautiful foreign flowers.
“Welcome to the greenhouse,” Gladio gestured, smiling serenely.
“Gladio, I’m not supposed to be here,” he whispered, but he was absolutely awestruck. Sylleblossoms were rare enough as it is, but seeing such a vast collection of blooms outside of Tenebrae was a magical experience. It was like a scene from a fairy tale, a garden hideaway where lovers were whisked away, meeting each other until dawn with only each other’s light to bask in until the sun peeked over the horizon.
“I won’t tell,” Gladio whispered in return.
For the third time that night, they kissed. Ignis wrapped his arms around Gladio’s neck, while the larger man’s arms snaked around the butler’s waist. Ignis closed his eyes, imagining what they must look like from an onlooker’s perspective: picturesque lovers in a storybook scene. The kiss was so undemanding, velvety smooth and meaningful. They slowly parted, lips wet and pliant. Ignis’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared deeply into the whiskey golden eyes of his partner.
His Gladio.
“When you said you wanted to show me something, this actually wasn’t the first thing that came to mind,” Ignis said, turning to face the sylleblossoms with a slight tinge of pink in his ears. “I actually thought that your intentions were… less than pure.”
“I mean, if you want, we can lay a tarp down,” Gladio joked.
Ignis knocked his shoulder lightly before settling his head down against Gladio’s firm bicep. “Absolutely not. I am not in the business of defiling sacred flowers.”
“Your loss,” Gladio laughed, curling their fingers together and pulling Ignis back in to resume their kiss.