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Ignis steps into Noct's apartment, shutting the door behind him quietly. It's a Saturday morning, meaning Noct is probably still in bed, and Ignis doesn't want to wake him and startle him, given that Noct's not expecting him. It's not typical for him to come over on a Saturday unless there's something scheduled, but Noct's been quieter than usual these past few days, and Ignis is worried about him. He's been prone to bouts of depression ever since he came back from Tenebrae, and his ability to take care of himself during those periods drops drastically, sometimes becoming almost nonexistent. If this is another one, Ignis wants to make sure he's at least showered and fed.
He steps towards Noct's partially open bedroom door, sticking his head tentatively through the crack as he peers into the semi-dark room. He expects to see Noct rolled on his side in sleep, sheets half flung off him given his tendency to get hot during the night, but instead there's only a large lump of blankets on the bed, shaking slightly.
Ignis' heart clenches at the sight, his stomach plummeting uncomfortably. It's one of those days. The worst ones. "Noct?" he says quietly, and the blankets let out a sob. Ignis steps into the room, carefully settling himself down on the edge of the bed next to the lump. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Noct won't, he knows. Not at first. He never does. But the words will reassure him that Ignis is willing to listen. He needs that reassurance, because too many people have made him feel like a burden to them during his sixteen years of life.
Predictably, one portion of the blankets closest to the pillow begin rustling, moving back and forth—Noct shaking his head. Ignis uses that as a guide to get an idea of where his back is, and reaches his arm out, gently resting his hand down on top of the blankets. Once he's certain he has the right area, he begins rubbing soft circles over the fabric, keeping his touch light and soothing. More sobs begin to spill out from the blankets, stuttering, choked up noises that make Ignis' throat ache with empathy just to hear them. "Shh, Noct, it's alright," he murmurs.
He feels helpless. He never knows what to say in situations like these, especially when Noct's depression has a number of causes. But he can't bear to see his friend hurting like this and sit idly by, making no attempt to comfort him.
Noct cries for awhile, and Ignis lets him, continuing to rub his back through the blankets. It's nearly half an hour before his sobs die down, and Ignis knows from past experience that it's not because he feels better, but rather because he doesn't have the energy to keep crying.
The blankets rustle some more, and then Noct's hands creep out from under the edge, pulling them back until his head pops out. His face is a mess, blotchy and soaked in tears, his eyes red and bloodshot. Snot's flowing from his nose, and Ignis tries not to make a face as Noct swipes at it with his arm. "I feel gross."
Ignis laughs quietly, pulling his hand away from Noct's back. "I imagine so. Would a warm bath help?"
Noct thinks about it for a moment, scrunching his nose up. "Dunno," he finally says, and lets out a tired sigh. "'s effort..."
"I'll draw it for you," Ignis says, coaxing. "And I'll put in those oils you like. I'll even wash your hair, if you wish." Noct's not really that dirty, he'd showered yesterday morning before school, but Ignis knows if he doesn't convince him to bathe now, he'll spend the whole weekend in bed until his hair and skin are an oily, greasy mess, which will likely make him break out and distress him further. The public expects him to maintain a perfect image, which means makeup to cover up those perceived imperfections, and in the past year since coming out and beginning a social transition, anything that Noct feels makes him look even slightly feminine has tended to send him spiralling into dysphoria.
Sighing, he sits up, letting the blankets fall to his waist as he hunches his shoulders up by his ears. "Okay," he mumbles to Ignis, still not meeting his gaze. "A bath would be good."
Ignis sets a hand on his shoulder briefly, offering silent support, and then stands, making his way from the room to go prepare the bath. He turns the faucets on, letting the water run to heat up as he gets the oils from the medicine cabinet. Grabbing the small cup kept just for that purpose, he pours in a bit of coconut oil, and then adds a couple drops each of lavender and tea tree oil, swirling the cup to mix them together.
He sets them on the vanity and then turns his attention back to the water, testing the temperature with his hand. It feels warm enough, so he stoppers the tub and lets it fill while he goes to the linen closet and gets the largest, fluffiest towel Noct owns. Then he comes back, shutting the water off once the tub's full enough, pouring the oils in and using his hand to stir the water around, letting them scatter throughout it.
That done, he makes his way back to the bedroom. Noct's still sitting hunched over on his bed, not having moved from his spot since Ignis left. Silent tears are trickling slowly down his cheeks again, and it makes Ignis' heart ache, his chest tightening with sorrow, but he swallows the lump in his throat to quietly say, "Noct? The bath is ready."
Noct nods, wiping at his face, and after a long moment he pushes away his blankets, sliding off the edge of the bed and standing. He takes a few steps towards the doorway, but then he halts, his face crumbling as fresh sobs start shuddering out of him. Ignis is there in an instant, crossing the room to draw Noct to him, wrapping his arms around his sides as Noct buries his face in Ignis' shirt. Noct brings his own arms up to return the hug, clenching his fists into the back of Ignis' shirt, clinging on tightly. "Ignis," he chokes out, but it's the only word he can manage.
"It's alright, Noct, it's alright. Shh. Let it out," Ignis says, as Noct dampens his shirt. "I've got you."
"I hate this," Noct cries.
"I know," he says, even though he's still not certain what 'this' is. Depression, dysphoria, his father's declining health, the royal burden he bears... it could be any of them, and all of them leave Ignis feeling powerless to help. He rubs more soothing circles on Noct's back, but Noct doesn't cry long this time, pulling away from him after only a couple of minutes, his face an embarrassed red.
"Sorry," he mutters.
Ignis shakes his head at him. "It's quite alright. Come, let's get you in that bath while it's still warm."
Noct sniffles, nodding again, and follows him out of the room, his steps slow and apathetic, shuffling his feet rather than picking them up, as if lifting them requires more energy than he has at the moment. It hurts Ignis to see his friend so obviously hurting, but all he can do is take care of Noct in the only way he knows how, and hope he opens up eventually.
They get to the bathroom, and Noct sinks down onto the closed lid of the toilet, looking down at himself but making no move to get undressed. "Need help?" Ignis asks him, and when he nods, bends down to pull his socks off. He grabs the hem of Noct's shirt next, tugging up, and Noct lifts his arms obediently. He crosses his arms over his breasts immediately once they're bared, giving Ignis the first hint of the reason behind today's mood. Noct's been topless in front of him plenty of times before, so it's not embarrassment making him cover up now.
Still, he won't say anything unless Noct does. He doesn't want to presume, or make him feel as if he has to talk about it. He helps Noct get the rest of his clothes off, averting his eyes to give him some privacy, and then steps back to let him climb into the tub, watching as Noct sinks beneath the water until his chest is covered. "Is the temperature acceptable?"
Noct exhales slowly, closing his eyes. "'S good," he says. "Warm. Gonna stay?"
"I did promise to wash your hair."
"Yeah," Noct agrees. "Not yet, though. Wanna sit."
Ignis nods, pulling out his phone before settling himself down onto the toilet. He has a couple of meetings scheduled for today, including one with His Majesty, but he cancels all of them, sending texts with the appropriate apologies. It's a little daunting to have to cancel on the king, but Ignis knows he won't be upset. Not when Noct needs him.
His last text is to Gladio. I'm afraid I won't be able to make our training later this afternoon. Something has come up. My apologies. He looks up from his phone then, to check on Noct, upset to find he's crying silently yet again. He hasn't seen him this distressed in months.
The vibration of his phone distracts him before he can say or do anything though, and he looks back at it to find a response from Gladio. Noct?
It's a bad day. The worst I've seen in awhile. Reschedule later?
Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it. Take care of him, Iggy.
I intend to. He slips his phone back in his pocket, turning his attention to Noct once more. He's still crying, tears running down his cheeks as he stares blankly ahead of him, his eyes unfocused. Ignis stands, rolling up his shirt sleeves, and then grabs the detachable shower head, pulling it down and setting the spray to gentle. He turns the water back on, pulling the knob to switch to the shower. "Close your eyes," he tells Noct.
Noct does without a word, tipping his head forward slightly, and Ignis brings the shower head to him, letting it slowly wet his hair, running his hands through the strands to make sure he doesn't miss a spot. He turns the water off once Noct's hair is thoroughly soaked, leaving the shower head to dangle down against the wall from its cord. He grabs Noct's shampoo, pouring a small amount into his hand, and then begins to massage it into his friend's scalp, taking care to be gentle.
"How are you so good at this?" Noct mumbles, still keeping his eyes closed.
Ignis smiles a little. "Natural talent, I suppose. Or years of washing your hair. I used to do it frequently after you first came back from Tenebrae."
"Yeah," he breathes out. "I remember. You were good at it even then. I never wanted anyone else to do it." He scowls. "Until we were told it was inappropriate. Couldn't have you seeing the Princess' growing boobs, after all, you might get feelings and try to act on them."
His voice is scathing, vaguely mocking the things Ignis knows he must have been told. "Nonsense," he says firmly. "Even if I were somehow blinded with lust at the sight of breasts, I would never cross your boundaries that way. You are my friend and I simply wish to help you."
"I know, Specs. I trust you. I always have."
Ignis grabs the shower head again, turning the water back on, and starts carefully rinsing the shampoo from Noct's hair. "I'm honoured to have such trust."
Noct says nothing to that, only dips his head further down as Ignis continues to run the water over his head, using his free hand to brush through the soft locks, keeping tangles from forming. The process is soon repeated with the conditioner, and Noct lets out a quiet noise as Ignis scrubs it into his hair, pleased to note it sounds content. His tears have stopped as well, and while Ignis isn't naive to think a simple bath is going to fix Noct's mood, he hopes it's relaxing enough to ease the worst of it.
He sets the water to drain when Noct finally gets out, patting himself dry and wringing his hair out before wrapping the towel around him. Ignis follows him to his room, going over to his closest as Noct drops back down to his bed, slumping over. "Anything particular you prefer to wear right now?"
Noct's quiet for several long moments. "My binder," he finally says.
Ignis simply gives him a nod and pulls it down from the hanger, his suspicions confirmed. Noct doesn't have a very large chest, and most days he's content to use just a sports bra. The binder only comes out when his dysphoria's really bad and he needs to feel and look flat. "Need help?" he asks, but Noct shakes his head.
"I got it."
"Would you like a shirt to wear over it?"
"Yeah."
Ignis grabs him one, a long sleeved black baseball shirt with dark blue sleeves that Noct favours, and hands it over, passing along a pair of boxers and some sweatpants as well. "Do you think you could eat something right now?" he asks once Noct is dressed. He's long learned not to ask if Noct's hungry during days like this—his appetite is always nonexistent on a bad day.
Noct shakes his head a second time, wrapping his arms around himself as he stands in the middle of the room, looking lost. Ignis doesn't miss the way he presses down slightly on his chest, as if he's trying to make his breasts flatten enough to spontaneously disappear. It gives him a pang of sadness to see it, but he's not going to comment on it and make Noct even more uncomfortable. "No. Sorry. Maybe in a few hours?" Noct says, trying to offer a compromise.
"That's fine," Ignis says. "Would you like to come out to the living room and sit with me?" He doesn't want to order Noct to do something. He's spent too much of his life being expected to please other people before himself, because that's how a princess is meant to act, at least according to those insufferable old fools on the Council that have far too much say in his life, and Ignis never wants his friend to feel as if he has to do things he doesn't want just to please him.
But he also knows that when Noct gets like this, he's often at a loss for what to do to help himself, and a little direction in the guise of options he can decide on won't go amiss. And it helps him feel as if he has control over at least some aspect of himself, which is immensely important when so much else about his life is beyond his own control.
"Yeah," Noct says, hugging himself tighter.
Ignis leads the way to the living room, taking a seat by the arm of the couch, on the side that faces the television. After a hesitant moment, Noct settles down next to him, curling up into his side, flinging his arm across Ignis' stomach, nestling his head into Ignis' shoulder. There's a blanket that stays on the back of the couch for Noct's late night gaming sessions, and Ignis pulls it off now, covering both of them with it, and then winds his arm around Noct's shoulder, across his back, pulling him in even closer.
"Do you mind if I turn the television on?" he asks, and feels Noct's answering head shake against him. He leans forward carefully, snagging the remote and game controller from the coffee table, starting up the console as he turns the television on. He clicks into Noct's profile, loading up one of the streaming services, and begins playing a show that he knows is one of Noct's favourites. He keeps the volume low, so that it's more background noise than anything else, and sets the controller back down on the table.
He can tell when Noct starts crying again, able to feel the slight shake of his body against him, but he says nothing, only lowers his hand some as he begins trailing his fingers lightly up and down Noct's back. When his dysphoria is this bad, words don't help.
He wishes there was something more he could do, some way that he could help ease Noct's dysphoria so that he didn't have to suffer like this. But they've tried many things to distract him or calm him since he came out and started being open about the dysphoria, and nothing has ever really helped enough, except Ignis sitting with him and quietly supporting him through the worst of it until it passes.
The show he put on is halfway through the second episode before the shake of Noct's shoulders stops, the soft sobs that had started halfway through the first episode slowly dying down. Noct sniffles a few times before muttering, "I'm sorry," his voice muffled by the fabric of Ignis' shirt.
"There's no need to be," Ignis tells him. "You shouldn't be ashamed to cry."
"Crying is what a girl would do. I don't want to be a girl."
"You aren't a girl," Ignis says simply, matter-of-fact, with no hint of doubt or disbelief in his tone. "And men cry too. We have emotions that can make us cry just the same as women do. You crying doesn't make you any less of a man, Noct."
"I never see you or Gladio cry," Noct says, sniffing again.
"No? Well, I prefer to cry in solitude. My face gets terribly blotchy and red everywhere, it's really quite unbecoming."
Noct laughs a little. "Okay, but Gladio doesn't cry, and he's probably the manliest man ever."
"You think? Here, let me show you a secret," Ignis says, pulling out his phone. Noct gets jostled around some as Ignis pries it out of his pocket, but he doesn't move away. Ignis pulls up his gallery, scrolling through until he finds the video he's looking for. "Here," he says, poking the phone into Noct's arm.
Noct snakes his other arm out from under the blanket to take it from him, cradling it in his hand as he taps on it with his thumb to start the video, turning his head so he can see it. Immediately Gladio's face fills the screen, his eyes reddened and his cheeks flushed. Tears are streaming down them, and his sobs come loudly through the speaker, making them both wince. "What—" Noct starts to say, brow furrowing, but then Gladio begins speaking.
"Noodles, Iggy!" he cries, the words slurred and just barely understandable. "Noodles. In a—in a cup. They're great, an' I'm so upset!"
"I'm afraid I don't follow. What exactly is upsetting about noodles in a cup?" Ignis' voice asks from somewhere off-camera.
Noct begins to grin, watching as Gladio starts sobbing even harder. Gladio will kill Ignis if he ever finds out he shared this video—that he even kept it—but he knows that the smile on Noct's face now will make it worth it. More so if it helps him feel less shame over crying. "'s just. The noodles, Iggy!" Gladio says again. "They're, ya know, they're in a cup! An' thas... thas jus'..."
"Bloody amazing?" Ignis' voice offers dryly.
"Yes! 'Zactly!" Gladio pounds his fist on the table he's sitting at, leaning forward, not seeming to mind the phone close to his face. "'s bloody amazing!" he roars. "But no one else appra—appershi—appsi—fuck wha's the word?"
"Appreciates?"
"Yes! Thank you! They don' have that for the noodles. 's jus'... 's jus' wrong." He lets out more sobs as he pillows his head into his arms atop Ignis' kitchen table, and there's a few more seconds of his cries before the video stops.
Noct snorts as he hands the phone back. "How drunk was he?"
"Oh, quite thoroughly sloshed by that point. He passed out not long after."
"Were you drunk too?"
"Indubitably," Ignis says as he sets his phone next to the controller. "That was my first chance to drink, and I admit to a curiosity about it. But it turned out I had a rather high tolerance for alcohol. My point, Noct, is that even Gladio cries, and if he can cry over something as ridiculous as cup noodles, then you're certainly allowed to cry over something as distressing as dysphoria."
Noct lets out a shuddering sigh, the smile dropping from his face as he turns his head to bury his face in Ignis' shoulder again. "I hate it," he says, his voice just above a whisper.
"I know."
They're both quiet then, the only sound in the room the low murmur of voices from the television. It hurts Ignis not to have any words of comfort to offer, but he's learned that empty platitudes are just that, empty, and they only make things worse. It doesn't help to be told that it'll pass eventually, or that things will get better, or that maybe in some hopeful future science will evolve enough in the way he wants to make his dysphoria a thing of the distant past. None of those things are assured, and even if they were, it wouldn't ease the feelings Noct is having in the current moment.
"Will you turn the TV up?"
"Certainly," Ignis says, leaning forward to grab the remote, raising the volume a few notches. "Is this satisfactory?"
Noct nods, turning his head back to see the screen. They watch several episodes for the next couple of hours, neither of them saying anything, but when Noct starts crying again at some point, Ignis begins rubbing his back once more, tipping his head to rest it against Noct's, hoping the physical comfort will be somewhat of a balm to his sorrow. He does settle back down eventually, but Ignis is still under no illusions that he feels better yet.
"Can we get delivery?"
"I don't see why not. What did you have in mind?"
"Dunno. Something without vegetables," Noct says. "Altissian? Maybe that place down the street from the arcade Prompto and I go to. Could get fish."
Ignis raises his eyebrows. He knows the place Noct is talking about, and all of their fish platters are dinner meals. It's a bit heavier than what he'd eat in the middle of the day normally, but if it's what Noct wants, if it will make him feel better even the slightest bit, then Ignis is willing. "I suppose that would be fine."
Noct snags his phone from the table, putting Ignis' passcode in and opening the browser, quickly pulling up the menu for the restaurant. They put in their order, and then turn their attention back to the TV. When the food comes another episode and a half later, Noct pulls away from him reluctantly, taking the blanket to wrap it around him like a cape while Ignis goes to meet the delivery girl. He takes the bags from her with a smile, quickly signing the receipt, and then carries the food back to the living room, setting it down on the table.
He pulls out both containers, checking them to see which is which, and then takes Noct's over to him. "Grilled barramundi and rice, no vegetables in sight," he says. "Would you like a drink with it?"
"Soda's good. Thanks, Specs," Noct says as Ignis brings him one back. He grabs his own food, a salad big enough to feed two people, and sits back down next to Noct. They eat, but Noct's only halfway through his food when he heaves a sigh and closes the container, setting it on the coffee table. He pulls his legs back up on the couch, tucking them under himself, and then leans his head against Ignis' arm.
Ignis takes a few more bites of his salad, and then sets the container down by Noct's. Noct reaches out for the remote, turning the volume of the television back down, and then scoots himself down the couch until he can lay his head in Ignis' lap, rolling on his other side so that he's facing him. Ignis takes the blanket that's tangled half around his body, freeing it and settling it back over him as Noct closes his eyes. "Gonna nap?" Ignis asks him.
"Yeah," Noct mumbles.
Ignis brings a hand down to his head, beginning to pet through his hair gently. Noct lets out a pleased noise, nuzzling his head into Ignis' stomach. Most of the time, neither of them are the most affectionate of people, but on days like this Noct soaks up touch like he's starving, and Ignis has never once considered denying him it. With other people, touch feels awkward and uncomfortable, but with Noct it's always been as natural as breathing.
They stay quiet, Noct's breathing slowing as he gets sleepy, and Ignis watches the television without giving much actual attention to it. He's seen all the episodes before—this show is put on every time Noct finds the world too overwhelming to deal with. Which has become more and more frequent over the past two years. Coming out had eased that some, but not as much as Ignis had hoped for.
He's startled when Noct speaks up abruptly, having thought he'd fallen asleep already. "It hurts, Specs." His voice is low, thick, and Ignis knows more tears will be coming soon, if they aren't already.
"I know. I'm sorry, Noct." The words are simple, but not lacking in heartfelt sincerity, tinged with sadness, and he knows Noct will hear that.
"I just—I want—I hate—" Noct breaks off, a couple of sobs escaping him, but he swallows down more before they can come out. "I'm never going to be able to have what I want and I hate it. It's not fair." More sobs that he tries to choke back, speaking through them when they refuse to cooperate. "I want what you have, and Gladio has, and my dad. I want a chest that's flat without having to wear something to squish it down or get surgery that will leave me with more scars for the rest of my life. I want to be called a guy without people having to put 'trans' in front of it first, I want people to look at me and not have to hesitate as they try to figure out which pronouns they should use, and most of all I want to have a dick between my legs that I was born with! It's not fair!"
"I want you to have those things too," Ignis tells him, feeling his throat closing up as his chest tightens, aching with grief for his friend. "I wish more than anything that you could."
"It feels wrong, everything is wrong, I feel wrong," Noct cries. "I look in the mirror and it's me in the reflection, but it's not my body. It's not what I'm supposed to have. I don't want to be like this. I hate it, Ignis, I hate it."
Noct grabs onto him, fisting his hands in his shirt as he pulls himself up some, burying his head in Ignis' chest, and Ignis leans forward, wrapping his arms around Noct in a tight hug, holding him as he sobs. He won't ever truly understand what Noct is going through, but he can see how badly it tears him apart, and he wishes desperately that he could take that pain away from him. "I know, Noct, I know. I know." There's nothing more he can say, nothing that will make it better, nothing that will soothe Noct's hurt.
"I just want to have been born a guy."
It's on the tip of his tongue to tell Noct that he was, because no matter what his body looks like, he is a guy to Ignis, as male and valid as any cisgender guy, but he knows that isn't what his friend means right now. So he keeps quiet, continuing to hold onto Noct, letting him cry it all out. He cries hard, and loud, harsh sobs ripping out of him in a way that Ignis knows will leave his throat aching later, but he's cried on and off all day, and his tears dry up fairly quickly this time, the noises soon dying down, soft shudders wracking him as an occasional sob still sneaks out.
"My therapist says I'm grieving," Noct mumbles eventually, loosening his grip on Ignis' shirt some, pulling away a little. Ignis lets him, loosening his own hold, though he still keeps his arms around him, skimming his fingers up and down Noct's back again. "He says I'm grieving the loss of the cis body I should have."
"Is that how you feel? That you're grieving?" Ignis asks quietly.
"Yeah. Kinda. It's like... it feels weird. Because I feel like I'm grieving the loss of a person who doesn't really exist. The person I could have been, if I had been born male. It feels weird to grieve someone who's not real. But... it hurts, all the time, when I think about the me I could have been. It chokes me up, so bad I feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Other times I get really angry and I just want to yell and throw things until I'm calm. And then sometimes I'm so sad that even crying is a huge effort..."
Ignis swallows. Noct is so rarely open with his feelings, and even less so about his dysphoria, so to hear him be so candid leaves Ignis feeling both honoured at being trusted and saddened that this is what he's been dealing with. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, the sympathetic words feeling far too inadequate.
Noct sighs, wriggling out of Ignis' arms some, scooting back down to rest his head in Ignis' lap again. "If the options for bottom surgery were better, I feel like it would be easier to deal with. But I don't think I would be happy with either of the current ones. It'd just remind me even more that I'm not cis there." He wipes at his eyes, scrubbing at the tears that are starting to build up once more. "At least my boobs aren't so bad. Binding helps the worst of it, and I think I could live with the scars if it ever got bad enough for me to want top surgery."
"They look pretty minimal in the pictures I've seen."
"You've researched it?" Noct asks, sounding surprised, though Ignis doesn't know why he should be. He knows well Ignis' preference for informing himself on even the most minor of things that affect his life, and understanding Noct's gender identity certainly isn't something minor to him. "Yeah, they're really not that bad. It's just..."
"I know," Ignis says. Noct has been highly sensitive and insecure about the scars on his back ever since they first healed. He can understand his reluctance to deliberately inflict even more upon his body, even with the benefit of easing his dysphoria. "Whether you ever decide to get top surgery or not, you're still valid as a man, Noct."
"Doesn't feel like it," comes the soft admittance moments later, and a few tears begin to trickle down his cheeks, more filling his eyes. Ignis takes his thumb and gently wipes them away. "No one really sees me as one, 'cept you 'n Gladio 'n Prompto. And my dad. People at school still eye my uniform like they're wondering why I'm not in a skirt, and my teachers always pause before they say 'Mr.' Caelum. Guys glare at me when I go in the boys' restroom, and I can hear them making fun of me when I change in the locker room for P.E. And..."
"And?" Ignis asks softly, trying to ignore the upset knot forming in his stomach. He's known Noct's social transitioning hasn't been easy on him—there's been endless speculation and rumours and gossip about it all over the internet and in the media, and while plenty of people have been supportive to their prince, there have been just as many who've had rude or downright cruel things to say. But he hadn't realised it had gotten that bad for him at school, though in retrospect he feels as if he should have realised it would be. Not everyone confines their transphobia to anonymous comments online.
Noct shudders, closing his eyes as fresh tears spill over. "One of them tried to grab my chest last week. I shoved him away before he could really touch me, but he said as long as I had 'these things' then I'd never be a real guy, and I'd never belong among them."
"Noct." Ignis is horrified. The knot in his stomach worsens, fear mingling with the upset horror. If his classmates have escalated their cruel words to include sexual behaviour with them, then Noct isn't safe there.
"It's fine," he says before Ignis can voice any concerns. "I mean... I know it's not fine, but I shoved him pretty hard. Also Prompto punched him in the face."
At that, Ignis lets out a startled laugh. He's only met the kid a handful of times, but Prompto looks as if he couldn't even manage to swat a fly, never mind punching another human being in the face. Ignis finds himself rather impressed, and hoping he got in a good hit.
"Yeah." Noct opens his eyes once more, smiling a little. "Made his nose bleed. Got suspended for it. But the guy's left me alone since then. I'm not worried about him. His words hurt more."
Ignis frowns, not satisfied with Noct's attitude towards what he considers attempted sexual assault. But he recognises now is not the time to discuss it—it can wait for a time when Noct is less distressed, and perhaps able to think about it more rationally. And if not, Ignis can make a discreet visit to the school himself to at least assure his safety. "You have as much right to be there as any other guy. Some people are assholes, but don't let any of them ever make you feel like you don't belong."
Noct swipes at his eyes again, though it does little to lessen the wetness soaking his cheeks. "It gets lonely. I know I'm not the only trans person in Insomnia, but I feel so alone sometimes. Like I have to deal with this all by myself, only I don't know how."
"You're not alone," Ignis tells him, running fingers gently through his hair yet again, soothing him. "You have myself, and Gladio and Prompto, and your father, and even Clarus and Cor. Not to mention the lady Lunafreya, and Iris. We're all your family, and we're all here for you, in this and anything else life may throw at you one day. I know we may not ever be able to fully relate to what you're going through right now, but I know all of us would do whatever it takes to understand and help you through this as best as we can. We're in this together, Noct, you don't have to go it alone. We'll figure it out."
A sob breaks free at that, and Ignis' shirt is grabbed once more as Noct turns and hides his face in it. Ignis holds him until his cries stop, whispering soft assurances to him. "I'm sorry," Noct finally mumbles as he pulls away. "I don't mean to keep crying all over you..." He sighs. "I haven't cried like this in months."
Ignis shakes his head. "It's quite alright. Shirts wash. And if it's been months, I dare say you needed this purge of emotions."
Noct raises a shoulder briefly before letting it fall back in a sad attempt at a shrug. "I hate crying. I always spend too much of the day doing it, and it feels like a waste of time. I never feel better enough after."
"It's okay to take a day off from doing anything productive every once in awhile." Ignis smiles a little. "Even if you spend that day crying."
"Who are you and what have you done with Ignis?" Noct asks, raising his eyebrows as he lets his eyes go wide in mock horror. "The Ignis I know would never spend a day being unproductive."
Ignis raises his own eyebrows in return. "No? Then what productive thing have I done today, O Wise Prince?"
"Made sure I don't actually drown in my misery," Noct answers promptly, although Ignis catches the brief pleased smile that flits across his face at hearing 'prince.' "Like you always do when I get like this. Even though I'm sure you have more important things you could be doing."
"Your happiness and well-being will always take priority to me."
Noct averts his gaze, his cheeks flushing. "...Thanks."
"You're welcome," Ignis says simply. He moves his arms away as Noct sits up, shrugging the blanket off him, and then watches as he grabs their food from the coffee table, carrying it to the kitchen to stick it in the fridge. When he comes back, he doesn't sit right away, instead pulling his shirt off before beginning to awkwardly work himself out of his binder.
"'s hot," he mumbles, seeing Ignis look at him, but Ignis is just relieved that his dysphoria has lessened enough to not feel like he needs the binder right now. Whatever Noct feels about crying, it's clearly done him some good.
He puts his shirt back on once he's got the binder off, and then settles on the couch again, curling up into Ignis' side and clutching at his shirt, as he had when they'd first come in this morning. Ignis puts his arm back across his shoulders, letting his fingers trail lightly along Noct's arm. Noct makes a contented noise, snuggling deeper into him. "Would you like to watch something?" Ignis asks him, glancing at the television, which has been sitting on the 'Are you still watching this show?' screen for the past half hour.
Noct shrugs. "Doesn't matter. Just wanna sit here with you." His voice turns hesitant, uncertainty leaking in. "If that's okay..."
"I could think of nothing better," Ignis tells him, tilting his head to rest gently against Noct's, closing his eyes. Noct's body is warm and solid against his, a comforting weight, and the sorrows and stresses of the day begin to melt away now that he feels confident the worst has passed. He's not one for napping, but right now he's relaxed and content, right where he wants to be, and sleep is tempting.
"It still hurts," Noct says softly several minutes later, jolting Ignis out of the half-asleep state he'd been slipping into, his eyes fluttering back open. "But... not as much. I don't feel so empty and alone now. Thanks for being by my side today, Specs."
Ignis shuts his eyes again, exhaling a slow breath, feeling Noct's hair tickle his cheek, and tightens his arm around him. "Always."