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There was a song to be sung of this—innocent kisses, curious fingers, the nervous dance of tongues escalating into something bigger and needier.
A half-meant joke that somehow ended up with Ignis tearing his Crownsguard uniform apart while Gladio worked through his vestʼs buttons and his nerves. He knew the man liked things that were prim and proper, he knew he could go through an entire storm of meetings and errands without looking the least bit disheveled. That was why he was being so careful with his clothes, even when the buttons of his dress shirt were practically serving him his ass right now.
Too slow, too careful. As soon as Ignis had divested with his uniform, he shoved him back and Gladio ended up bouncing on the luxurious queen-sized bed so Ignis could take matters in his own hands. He was what…17? Eighteen? One year younger than Gladio at any rate.
Ridiculous. Exciting. Gladio worked swiftly through his belt, his zipper, charged by the same urgency of getting dressed and ready for training in 5 minutes, only in reverse. And to goad him, there was Ignis straddling him as he finally peeled his shirt and let it fall to oblivion. A year of training with the Crownsguard, with him and Cor and Noctis had given his once soft and skinny anatomy some chiseled features.
Gladio felt like a barbarian touching them in his wonder, his briefs growing tighter for every minute he lay exposed under this gorgeous man, every moment he let his shaking hands wander freely. Inspired, Ignis did the same after he left his glasses and his necklace on the nightstand. He was more eager when he cupped at his pecs, traced the simplistic outline of his future Shieldʼs crest.
“So this is what it feels like.” All that nervousness had led to a shaky huff and smile. They could just touch each other all night and Gladio felt like he would go home tomorrow satisfied.
“What?” Ignis stammered. “Being with me—”
The skies boomed, their lightless room illuminated briefly by the white of lightning. Both of them whipped suddenly to the window, like two boys caught with their hands stuck in the proverbial cookie jar. After that brief scolding, the rain fell harder, if that was at all possible.
Despite himself, Gladio started laughing in his breath. He put his eyes back on Ignisʼ naked abs and felt through his muscles. “Think the Astrals are trying to tell us something?”
“What?” Ignis sputtered again, whipping back to him, eyes round as if he was shocked to catch them both with their pants peeled back. “Do you think they caused this storm and stranded us here in the Citadel so weʼd have sex already?” They wouldnʼt be in this kind of situation if they hadnʼt been leaving hints like a trail of crumbs, after all.
Gladio was grinning so brightly, it was starting to hurt but his excitement wouldnʼt make him stop. “Well, they did get us topless.” His hands were now cruising over the muscles of Ignisʼ arms. “Weʼre a short trip away from our first time.”
Ignis touched his nose bridge, missing his glasses.
That made Gladio laugh. So much for being perfect. He was finding out so many things about Ignis tonight. In a way, that made him feel better, surer of himself. “Canʼt believe itʼs with you.”
“What is?” Ignis sounded like he was holding his breath.
“My first time,” Gladio revealed. “Iʼve never had sex with a man before.” Down there, he could see the exact moment Ignisʼ eyes widened and his jaw fell slack.
He crushed their mouths together, long fingers darting under the band of Gladioʼs briefs to get his first feel of what awaited him. Outside, the storm raged on, shrouding them in their own private world where they could bare everything without fear or modesty.
Gladio would never forget this night; it was the first day of winter. The first night they decided to live their lives together.
—
With how busy their days were, tied up to the prince that they served, there was hardly any room left in their calendar for just the two of them. Even these fancy dinners they called ‘datesʼ were, at their core, expensive soapbox sessions and meetings where they talked about their charge behind his back. As men whose lives had been sold to the Crown since conception, this kind of relationship never bothered them.
Until it did. Ignis was the first to complain about the way they were pursuing their couplehood and laid down the rules of how they were to proceed from then on: for one hour per week, he said, they would spend time with each other where they would talk about nothing but themselves.
Easier said than done. Calls from the Crown held nothing sacred and matters of public security could hardly wait for half an hour. They tried, though. Even if it was just an overextended coffee break once a month, it was something to look forward to.
“My boyfriend looks like a rockstar,” Ignis remarked, strolling hand-in-hand with the man himself. “Dresses in tank tops and leather like a rockstar. But for our first real date of the season, he takes me out to a park 5 minutes away from the office.”
“What!” Gladio laughed, beaming at his own boyfriend. “Itʼs spring! Look.” He redirected his plastic cup of iced latte to the pink canopy that surrounded them, themselves hosting a sparse crowd of admirers and photographers. “Cherry blossoms! Blue skies! Happy faces!” He presented himself with the back of his hand, laid flat under his chin. “Handsome faces.” For which he waggled his brows.
Ignis jabbed a finger on his scarred cheek and flicked his face back like a pinball spring. “Iʼm not saying I have a problem with it, Iʼm just pointing out the irony. One would expect from your long hair,” he reached to comb at the tail of it, “and full tattoo that your ideal date would involve breaking the speed limit on your motorcycle. Or attending loud concerts or parties, drinking 5 kinds of alcohol. And yet here you are, happy as a dog in the park. Dreaming about reading in a hammock under a tree, where he could gaze out to the stars…”
“Look, books are great and nature is underrated,” Gladio felt the drive to explain, anyway. Ignis listened with his cup on his lips. “Everyone who thinks theyʼre just for nerds donʼt understand how deep and wild they are. Theyʼre like protein for the soul, yʼknow? Makes you stronger here and here.” He pointed to his head and his heart.
“You should see yourself saying that,” Ignis laughed. They were coming up to a short bridge over an artificial river, where they could look down to children playing with stones. “You look like a professor trapped in the body of a gangster.”
“A gangster!” Gladio burst wide open with his cheer. “Well, canʼt say I donʼt like my surprises.”
“As do I,” Ignis replied, leaning his elbows on the curving rail. “I canʼt tell you how pleasantly surprised I was to find out that in spite of your personal style, youʼre actually quite…safe.”
“Safe,” Gladio echoed with the last traces of his laughter. He brought his straw up to his lips to finish his drink. “Canʼt believe I just came out here to have my reputation ruined.”
“All the better for me,” Ignis said with a happy look. “When I was starting to become attracted to you, I had worried that you would be into the things Iʼd described, and we would not be compatible. But then the most dangerous thing you put me through thus far is hiking on my leather shoes to see the sunset.”
“Yeah, and you liked that!” Gladio nudged his boyfriend lightly.
“And you even convinced me to take a kissing selfie of the both of us amidst dusken skies.” Which made Ignis smile a little bit shyly. “That was uncalled for. That must have been the first time I used my front cam for its intended purpose, and not just a quick mirror.”
“And you got me going to the market, buying my own food,” Gladio added. “Even taught me how to tell when somethingʼs fresh or not. You know what this means?” He peeled his hand from the side of his empty cup, waiting for Ignis to offer his before laid his palm over it and folded his fingers between his.
Ignis looked up to him from their conjoined hands, waiting for him to continue.
“Weʼre compatible,” Gladio finished. “You and I. Youʼre serious, Iʼm fun.”
“Thank you for not calling me boring.”
Gladio snickered. “I donʼt have a boyfriend whoʼs boring, Ignis.” He clicked his tongue. “But you like to work, and I like to play. Youʼre smart, Iʼm strong.” He ran his thumb gently over the back of Ignisʼ fist. “You’re hot black, Iʼm iced latte.” To which he raised his drink, causing Ignis to laugh and nod. “Put us together, weʼll be the most functional couple on this side of Eos.”
Ignis pulled his brows tight despite his smile. “Are you saying what I think youʼre saying?”
“That?”
“You’re interested in marrying me.”
“Do I gotta make it clearer?” Gladio beamed. “Yeah, I am. I havenʼt been with someone for more than a year, yʼknow? So I feel like this is it for me. Do you?”
“I…” Despite Ignisʼ quick start, he trailed off. Gladio would have been more surprised if he didnʼt—being a couple was one thing, after all, but being spouses was an entirely different world. He thought this was probably what was going through his head, his thoughts flashing in those green eyes of his. Maybe if theyʼd been other men, he ought to be worried.
But they werenʼt, and he could make a rough guess about why Ignis was hesitating. He would hesitate, too. “Well, I ainʼt ready to propose yet either,” Gladio spat out hurriedly before Ignis got the wrong idea. “We still got things we gotta do. I know that. W, what I meant to say was that…”
“No, I understand,” Ignis cut him, squeezing his hand tighter. “Of course, I understand. And…I do see a future in us, too.” Despite the clear skies and the bright day, when next he smiled, it was weighed down by the corners. “Iʼm sorry if I alarmed you with my second thoughts. I didnʼt mean to. But perhaps…in my joy of being with you, I hadnʼt considered that we were drawing closer to that possibility. And now I realize I should start looking at us more seriously.”
“Well, we probably wonʼt get married any time soon, anyway.” Gladio shrugged. “So thereʼs no need to rush. But…at least now, thatʼs out in the open.”
Ignis nodded. “Itʼs always good to be clear about oneʼs intentions. Who knows? Perhaps I might even race you to that proposal.”
“You?! Race me!” Gladio laughed out loud at that, following the tug of Ignisʼ hand when he led them back to the Citadelʼs imposing structure. “Youʼll be too busy coming up with the perfect proposal to put a ring on me!”
“Oh ye of little faith.” Ignis rolled his eyes. “Why donʼt you just watch me surprise you?”
“Oh, Iʼll watch you, all right.” Gladio grinned, leaning his face close to Ignisʼ. “Iʼll watch you cry like a baby when you see me on my knee.”
“Just one knee? Or both?” There was a playful smile on Ignisʼ face before they both laughed and sealed themselves in a kiss.
—
Many summers later, no one was still coming down on his knee or crying like a babe. Neither did life with the Chosen King get any easier. But that didnʼt mean theyʼd given up the dream; even when they hadnʼt been talking about it, it was still there, at the back of their heads.
Waiting for the both of them to visit sultry Lestallum in a sleepy afternoon, best spent in the hotel room if not for Ignisʼ insistence to seize the day and trawl the market.
“Gladio!”
He was by the fruit vendor in the middle stalls when he called his attention. Gladio waved back with his wallet then paid the grains seller for some bags of walnuts and almonds, helping himself to a little of each just to take his mind off the rising temperature.
“Weʼll take half,” Ignis had told his vendor by the time Gladio had gotten to him, offering him some cubed watermelon by the toothpick. Gladio welcomed himself to it straight from Ignisʼ fingers, sucking at the juicy sweetness before he crushed the fruit in his tongue. “As well as these bananas.” He indicated the bunch strung overhead.
“You gonna try those pies again?” He reached over to the tray of watermelon samplers and took another for himself. “Hey, these are actually good stuff.”
“I bought half a watermelon and a bunch of these.” Ignis nodded to the bananas. “Theyʼll go well in a smoothie which will make it easier for Noct to take them. Whatever it is that is causing his headaches, I hope to alleviate them even just a little with this recipe.”
“Yʼknow what else is making it worse for Noct?” Gladio hissed at the white hot skies overhead, not even a cloud in sight. “This damn heat. Dehydration can be worse than a vengeful ex so letʼs actually just take a whole damn watermelon with us. Sir!” He raised his hand for the vendorʼs attention from the back where he was bagging their bananas.
“Gladio, we wonʼt have room in the car.”
“So weʼll finish it here. Weʼll just take a whole piece with us.” The last part, he said to the vendor. “Get what you need for your smoothie then cut up the rest. Weʼll share some to Iris, Jared and Talcott if we have to.”
Brute strength came into play easily. Amidst Ignisʼ protests, citing food waste and their limited budget, Gladio shouldered the watermelon and left Ignis with the bananas and the payment.
He had a disappointed look on his face when he and Gladio marched off towards the exit. “I had our expenditures perfectly planned this week,” he persisted.
“You canʼt perfectly plan anything while someoneʼs ill, Ignis,” Gladio pointed out, trying to sound sensible even when Ignis seemed determined to keep up with his frown. “Besides, whatʼs the use of saving up and camping out if we wonʼt be spending it all on His Majesty, anyway? Heʼs the reason why weʼre out here in the first place.”
“Still, there is no reason to forego moderation. Especially if you arenʼt the one staying up all night, juggling numbers just to make ends meet,” Ignis muttered towards the end, ending with a sigh while he scanned the stalls they passed. “Ah milk! Canʼt have a smoothie without milk.” He didnʼt even leave Gladio with a glance when he took off towards it.
He winced. Now he knew how upset Ignis was. The man wouldnʼt admit it, of course, he hated ‘appearing ruffledʼ but Gladio had learned by now how to listen to the words he didnʼt say.
Also that waiting for him to simmer down was not the first step, it was the second. First of all, he had to show him that he understood that he had caused him to be unhappy and was ready to ask forgiveness for it. The easiest way to do it was to get him a gift. Didnʼt always work, he was a gestures-over-gifts kind of guy (they talked about love languages once before this road trip and that was fun (for Gladio) and insightful (for Ignis)) but times like this, it was the thought that counted.
A quick sweep brought him to a sleepy metalworkerʼs table, full of souvenir stuff like Lestallum spoons and forks, Lestallum keychains, Lestallum accessories…
“Hey, Ignis!” Without hands left, Gladio had to nod him over. Ignis took his time with the purchase of the milk, making a clear indication that he wasnʼt keen to give into Gladioʼs fancies after that stunt he pulled. He was determined to prove himself, though—he would wait for him with ready cheer even with a moon on his shoulder (literally, who knew watermelons could weigh so much?) and his sweat dripping down the sides of his face and the back of his neck. Icky.
“What is it?” Ignis exhaled, barely even making the effort to hide his annoyance. That all changed when he saw the stuff Gladio wanted to show him, those green eyes sparkling in recognition. “Wedding rings!”
“For a Lestallum wedding, yeah?” Gladio grinned at his boyfriend. He had set their bananas aside to pick up one part of the pair on the third row closest to them. “I was lookinʼ at that, too. Classy, donʼt you think? I like the black gems lined up around it.”
“Subtle yet sophisticated,” Ignis agreed, turning the jewelry in his fingers to explore it.
“So? Wanna get married here?” Gladio crooned closely to Ignisʼ ear.
But with one last smile, his boyfriend returned the ring to its partner. “If I were to get married, I would want to do it at home. It would be the perfect recipe for a homecoming. Besides,” he nodded back over his shoulder, “I feel ill at ease getting married before a certain someone does.” And he was waiting for them.
Gladio shrugged, or tried to. “Yeah, I guess youʼre right.” With a nod of thanks to the drowsy metalworker, he followed Ignis out of the market. “Ooh, wouldnʼt it be cool if he were the one to officiate our wedding?”
“Indeed,” Ignis agreed easily. “If he would deign to actually marry us. But I imagine he would prefer to complain about how weird it is first.”
“Got that right,” Gladio chuckled deeply, then sighed in the same breath while he tried to wipe his face on the skin of his arm. “Gods, Iʼm sweating buckets here.” When Ignis stopped them so he could shift his bags to one hand and use his handkerchief to dry Gladioʼs cheeks, he knew he was forgiven.
—
It made no sense to get married in other ways—Lucis held many wonders but none of them held as much meaning as the Crown City did. And he and Ignis, after losing their home, they became such sentimental creatures.
After they lost their king to the crystal…they became lost creatures, too.
Months, years…a full decade spent in darkness, untethered from each otherʼs light. The hardships severed their relationship and brought them to alien arms, looking for that same warmth that had once soothed them. When they met, it became like poison that festered them with acid until they couldnʼt bear to meet anymore. They dreaded the next hunt, the next chance encounter.
Until they realized that it wasnʼt the meeting that burned them—but the parting. The injustice of having to choose a stranger instead of each other. When Gladio wisened up, he stopped dating altogether, put his heart and soul in hunting daemons instead, turned every defeat and victory into a balm to coat his yawning loneliness.
But even the biggest victory couldnʼt feel the gap in his spirits. The daemons were gone but so was Noct. With nothing to kill and no one to kill for, Gladio felt completely isolated from the life he once had.
That night, after they buried the king, Gladio couldnʼt even bring himself to celebrate their triumph and drown out his sorrows with the rest of the survivors. His presence was among them but his heart yearned to be somewhere else.
To be with someone else, who suffered in the same way that he did. His other half, the other side of his coin.
He saw him outside the Citadel where they felled the behemoth once, his back pressed to the wall, drenched completely in his Kingsglaive uniform. An autumn rain swept through their broken city, the seasons unhindered by their loss.
Gladio stood in front of Ignis who tightened his arms around him, tapping him on his wrist before he took the same hand to bring it to the bottle of beer he carried. “Somethinʼ to keep you warm,” he mumbled.
Ignis nodded in gratitude and finished his drink in one pull. “Prompto?”
“Left ‘im with the others.” Gladio swept that stubborn lock of hair back over the top of his head. “You wanna go in?” Ignis shook his head. “Okay, then.”
“You should go,” Ignis whispered, leaving the empty bottle by his feet. “Iʼll be fine here.”
“I ainʼt fine in there,” Gladio told him. “Feel like a ghost that donʼt belong. Everyoneʼs trying to move on but,” he shook his head, “I dunno if I even can.”
“Where do we start?” Ignis replied. “Where do we start to forget and start to begin again?”
Gladio nodded to his words. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, ‘xactly.”
Ignis sniffled. Gladio wondered if his eyes were open but with the water on his visors, it was difficult to say. “I donʼt even know if I can still live in this place. We fought to take it back but the cost was too high. I have no one here thatʼs left to come home to.”
“No one? Ignis,” Gladio stepped forward to clasp his hand in both of his, “what about me? Iʼm still here, arenʼt I?”
“But Gladio,” Ignis frowned bitterly, “we tore ourselves apart.”
“Then letʼs mend ourselves.” Gladioʼs voice was shaking. “Weʼre the ones who did this so weʼre the only ones who can fix this! I love you.” Words heʼd never spoken in years. He thought theyʼd rusted over with disuse but like muscle memory, maybe all they needed was a little practice to be perfect again. “I still do.”
Ignis shook his head. “Donʼt kill us with sweet promises we canʼt keep.”
“I kept my duty to my king even when it killed me to let him die, whatʼs a promise to the man whoʼs keeping me alive?” The right place and the right time…it took Gladio years and a decade to finally understand that they were lies, pure fantasies reserved for dreams. Nothing in the world could ever be as perfect. They waited…and lost their home, their families, their best friend.
Gladio would not wait any longer, before they lost each other for good.
He came down to his knees—both of them—holding tightly to Ignisʼ hand like a lifeline. No ring to carry him through, no sunsets, no fancy locations. Just his words and the emptiness of his heart, that cried out, “Ignis Scientia, Iʼm asking you to spend the rest of your days with me. Be with me, stay with me. I tried to live my life without you…I said Iʼd find somebody when this is all over but…” With a shaking head, he told him, “Itʼs you. Itʼs always been you.”
He missed the exact part Ignis started to choke and sob, but Gladio couldnʼt tell when heʼd started sniveling like a boy either.
Without another word, Ignis fell to his own knees and pulled his fiancé in a fierce embrace.
—
An hour later, and the rain still hadnʼt quite let up, and neither had he moved one page further.
So Gladio just gave up, left his book on his nightstand and rose to his feet. He took his night-robe from where he left it by the foot of the bed and donned it on while he padded towards the sliding door. As soon as he pushed it open, cold wind whipped at him, causing him to shiver under his silk garb.
“Gladio, would you care to shut the door?” Ignis called him from outside their bedroom. “Itʼs too cold, and the wind might blow the rain in.”
“In a minute,” Gladio called back, sticking by the wall while he gazed out to the wet world, made out of their garden and the greenhouse in the middle. Amidst the distant booms of thunder, he heard Ignis shuffling in, pushing the main door shut.
“Gladio? Are you by the balcony?”
Gladio glanced back to see the blind man, his scars and milky eyes exposed and his hair down, patting his side of the bed, and then sighing. “Donʼt worry about me, I put on a robe.”
“A robe is hardly a viable protection against a winter storm.” Still, Ignis climbed onto the sheets and crawled towards his spot where he settled down with a grateful sigh. “And Iʼm sure that Caela knows how to survive this one more than you do.”
Gladio snorted. “Thanks for the trust.”
Ignis smiled at that. “Come sit by me, Gladio.” He patted the empty spot beside him. Even with a full set of pyjamas on, he looked tempting enough.
But Gladio would remain a fool for just a little longer. He turned back to the garden. “What if I just leave a crack open? Just enough to let ‘er in.”
“For all we know, she could be waiting out the rain in the farm, Gladio. Come now, wonʼt you keep me warm?”
“But Iʼve been looking out the greenhouse and I canʼt find her. Sheʼs not by the hammock either.”
“Gladio,” Ignis sang out his name. This was getting harder.
“Fine,” Gladio conceded, “let me just call her name one more time—”
“Gladiolus Scientia.”
Okay. That was his name right there, which made Gladio loath to hold off much further. Sighing loud enough for his husband to hear him through the storm, he finally pulled the door shut, and admitted defeat.
Ignis had a bright smile on his face before Gladio consumed it with a kiss, and then let out a startled cry of laughter when a wicked finger darted straight to his side.
“You know I canʼt resist you when you pull the full name treatment on me,” Gladio snarled delightfully between his breath. When Ignis moved closer to the middle, he followed his lead and mounted him, letting those sure hands feel for the fabric of his robe to slip it off his arms.
“And I canʼt resist not pulling the full name treatment on you.” Ignis tossed off the silk to the floor and raised his knees to trap his husband between his legs. With a contented look on his face, he brushed his fingers over the outline of his beard. “Gladiolus Scientia. Itʼs strange…and fascinating, calling someone else my name. Do you not miss yours?”
“Hard to say,” Gladio smirked, “when I love yours just as much.” Ignis kissed him for that. “‘sides, everythingʼs different these days, I donʼt mind not sticking with Amicitia.”
“And if Iris thinks the same?”
“Thatʼs where I draw the line.” Ignis laughed with him. “Nah, I know sheʼll want to keep it. Even if she werenʼt the last Amicitia standing, sheʼs too proud of our name to let it go just like that.” This was the compromise the three of them reached. It was too cruel, after all, to let a House die just so it could be assimilated into one that wasnʼt yet completely endangered.
“I feel so fortunate to have a living sister-in-law,” Ignis sighed, and earned a kiss from his husband for that.
One chaste touch led to something more, as things were wont to go between them. Until Ignis was flat on his pillow and Gladioʼs fingers were progressing steadily down his buttons. First one, then two…
When they heard the telltale purr of a cat outside in their balcony, they only stopped briefly so they could smile at each other, and Ignis could tell him, “I told you Caela will be fine.” Gladio didnʼt get up for their most beloved pet, though, too busy stripping his husband, filling his mouth with his intent—
“Papa? Dad?” Three knocks through the door.
Ignis didnʼt have to shove Gladio off to get him rolling back to his side of the bed but he did anyway. “Aureus? Something wrong?” His fingers flew up his shirt, undoing Gladioʼs hard work.
That was the boyʼs cue to step through the door, push it shut, and hurry towards Gladio with his arms up so his father could lift him off the floor and dump him in the space between his parents. As soon as he was in his safe zone, he burrowed his face onto Ignisʼ shirt.
“Is it the storm?” Ignis asked readily, hand falling to the boyʼs deep brown hair. “Does it scare you?”
“A little,” the boy mumbled. And by that, Gladio knew he meant a lot. He wondered if this was some imprinted fear while he was still in his motherʼs womb. She had been a refugee from Gralea who had moved to Insomnia, hoping for a better life for her child but fell ill and died during birth. With no relatives to look after the boy, Ignis decided they would adopt him.
He put on a chuckle, patting him on his arm. “Thatʼs okay. Dad and Papaʼll be here to protect ya. Want Papa to sing you a song?” Aureus shook his head. “No?”
“Dad doesnʼt want Papa to sing either.”
Gladio clicked his tongue at Ignisʼ self-satisfied smirk. “Thanks, I love you, too.”
It wasnʼt much longer until Aureus finally fell asleep, following a few hushed conversations that was meant to take his mind off the dying storm. When he was purring in peace, Gladio tapped Ignis on his arm and whispered, “Iʼm sorry.” They had both been in the mood tonight.
But Ignis only smiled and shook his head. “This is our life now, Gladio. This little one,” he glanced down towards the sleeping child, “this family…they must all come first.” Their family.
They certainly took their time, going the long way around, but they got there in the end. Through light and darkness, death and new life.
“Yeah,” Gladio said, watching his husband and his son. “This is our life now.”