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Ignis knew something was up the second Noctis backed out of buying his own apartment, opting instead to stay in the Citadel, ‘crushed under his father’s thumb,’ as he put it. It became ever more obvious with each passing day, when Noctis would hurry home from the university and actually took up an interest riding. The only outdoor activity that Noctis used to ever give a shit about was fishing, and there are no fish on the chocobo track. Then Ignis asks if Noctis wants him to pick up anything from the store, and Noctis answers gysahl greens. Something’s definitely wrong.
When Ignis loses track of Noctis in the Citadel, needing him for another mandatory evening tutoring session, it’s not hard to pick which halls to check first. Noctis doesn’t appear to be down in the stables, but Ignis spirals upwards, checking all the corridors that overlook them, and sure enough, he finds Noctis leaning halfway out a window on the second story, peering down at the green courtyard below.
Ignis is careful not to approach right away. Instead, he walks quietly to a nearby window and glances out himself, trying to find where Noctis’ gaze is glued. It’s not difficult to figure out. There’s an attractive young man carefully grooming Noctis’ favourite charcoal-coloured chocobo down by the hedges. It’s conceivable that Noctis is grinning fondly at a well-loved steed, but Ignis thinks it’s far more likely that he’s ogling the cute blond’s ass. Every time the stable boy leans over, bending to brush the lower feathers, Noctis’ eyes flare. Ignis lets out a little sigh—he should’ve known.
He finally approaches Noctis, who startles, but only manages to tear his eyes away from the window for a few seconds. Then he’s back to staring. Ignis feels obligated to dryly ask, “Noct, are you sleeping with a stable boy?”
Noctis’ head whips around. He splutters, “No.” Except his face screams yes. It only takes a few seconds for him to guiltily crumble under Ignis’ heated gaze. He coughs and corrects, “Well, I mean, not really, but, uh...” He shrugs and admits, “Y’know what? I’d like to.”
Ignis rolls his eyes. Noctis just can’t do things the easy way. He has half a dozen suitors proposing to him every week, all from wealthy families, well connected to the crown, and he’s never shown any of them even the tiniest bit of interest. But he has no problem staring at a stable boy’s taut rear.
Noctis even asks, “Do you think I should talk to him? But, like... what would I say?”
“Noct.”
“Fuck, he’s so cute. I think he plays King’s Knight—I see him on his phone all the time. But like, how do I get his friend code? That’s a good start, right? Or will that just make it seem like I only want to be friends when I totally want more?”
“Noct.”
“Every time I go down there he asks what I want to ride and I just wanna be like you, dude, but what if I do that and—”
“Noct!”
Noctis finally stops talking. Ignis reminds him, “You can’t sleep with a servant.”
“What if he sleeps with me?”
Ignis doesn’t get paid anywhere near enough. He knows that Noctis is currently talking to him as a friend, not as a prince to an advisor, but Ignis considers the two one and the same. He cares about Noctis too much to allow a scandal. He insists, “Don’t.”
Noctis frowns, his nose wrinkling up. He begrudgingly says, “Okay. Sure, Iggy.” Which Ignis knows is code for I’m totally going to do it anyway.
Ignis shakes his head and resolves to just deal with the tutoring now—he’ll have to talk to the stable boy in the morning.
