Chapter Text
“This really isn’t necessary,” Ignis protested, managing to make his objection sound like an apology.
“Yeah. It really is,” Gladio disagreed.
They were moving down one of the myriad hallways of the Citadel, making their way from the training center back towards personnel quarters.
Ignis, mortifyingly, was being carried through the corridor by the Shield, cradled in the other man’s heavily muscled arms like a child.
He felt his cheeks heat, and focused on putting it out of his mind, acting as if he was being carried because he wanted to be, not because he needed to be.
But then he’d move the wrong way, his ankle would twinge again, and he’d be reminded that it was very much necessary.
“You almost had that last flip-combo,” Gladio said conversationally. “Maybe practice it more on it’s own, before adding in your daggers, yeah?”
"Indeed,” Ignis stammered slightly, quickly smoothing out his tone as he continued speaking. “I’ll take your advice under advisement.”
They had reacted the Royal Strategist’s quarters, and he coughed quietly to get Gladio’s attention.
“Thank you for your assistance, Gladiolus,” Ignis said with a slight bow of his head, once the larger man had put him down.
“Course. See ya.” With that, he walked off, leaving Ignis to tend to his ankle, nurse his pride… and consider how unexpectedly delightful it had felt to be caught up in Gladio’s arms.