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Chapter Text

By the time Gladiolus Amicitia had reached the tender age of 13, heʼd already learned several things that would set him up for life: how to tie his shoelaces, how to ask for directions, how to defend himself barehanded, how to hold his breath underwater…but none of his teachers had thought it was important to teach him how to make the perfect sunny side up eggs.

Now, at age 20, he was struggling.

“Okay, Gladdy, this is it!” Iris prepped him, standing on top of a dining chair to bring her closer to her brotherʼs impressive height. “The moment weʼve all been waiting for. Are you ready?!”

“Okay, I got it,” Gladio affirmed, psyching himself up with a tight frown and a mean look about his brows. Like a true fighter facing the unbeatable champion, he bounced on the heels of his feet.

“Good.” Iris cleared her throat. “Now, carefully. Slide the egg onto the plate.”

This was the part Gladio always messed up—too careful and he ended up shaking the egg and breaking the yolk. Too fast and the yolk ran out upon contact with the plate. Or sometimes, he would upset that delicate sunny dot when he lifted the pan too soon.

Now, he was doing it according to all the lessons heʼd learned—a perfect 45-degree angle from the pan, patiently letting it slip off with the butter…

He didnʼt breathe until the pan was back on the stove and the egg was perfectly seated smack dab in the middle of the white plate. Even then, he took several steps farther from it before he pulled his fists down and grunted out a victorious, “Yes!”

“You did it!!” Iris squealed, climbing down her seat so she could run to her brother with her arms pulled high. He picked her up for a tight squeeze. “Gladdy, you did it!!”

“Congratulations, Sir.” Jared Hester, who had come to witness this historical moment and make sure none of the Amicitia siblings would burn down the mansion, applauded his young master. “Youʼve truly outdone yourself this time.”

“Thanks, Jared!” Gladio tapped him on his sleeve, Iris perched happily on his arm. “Couldn’t have done it without any of ya.” With a proud smile, he gazed at his perfect golden yolk again. “Think thisʼll really work? Think Iʼll get a chance on Ignis with this?”

“Hundred percent!” Iris popped both her thumbs up. “If he learns about how hard you worked on this egg, heʼll never reject you!”

Words to carry him through the biggest trial of his young life yet: confessing his feelings to his crush. Gladio seasoned the egg just as he was taught, buttered some toasts and then arranged the plates with a glass of orange juice onto a tray. And then, with one last deep breath, he carried his tribute out the kitchen and up the stairwell, where he hoped to find Ignis still in bed in his guest room.

How it came to be was quite a pleasant surprise. With Noctisʼ homework on classic Lucian literature coming up in a few days, Ignis took it upon himself to prepare a draft of his critique so he could focus on his history paper, as well as his quarterly appearance in his fatherʼs council meeting. And being in possession of the required reading, Gladio invited Ignis to join him for dinner so they could tag-team Noctisʼ assignment. By the time they had finished, it was already too late and Ignis had become too tired to drive on home.

Hence, his presence in the house, and that of Gladioʼs in his doorway where he cleared his throat, steeled his balls and knocked politely. This was it, the moment of truth. “Ignis, itʼs Gladio. Can I come in?”

“Of course! The door isnʼt locked.”

Gladio inhaled deeply, exhaled carefully, and finally made his way in. So far, everything was going as planned—Ignis was still in bed, though it seemed as if heʼd been up for some time now. He had a phone on his ear and a happy smile on his face.

“Coffee sounds great,” he said to his friend. “Iʼll send you a message as soon as I leave Gladioʼs house.” Then with a great sigh, he said, “Come now, Silas, itʼs just Gladio. Please donʼt be jealous of him.” Wait, Silas? Jealous? Gladio stopped in his steps, feeling every bit like a stranger whoʼd just walked into the wrong room. Ignis was smiling again. “Iʼll see you soon. Love you, too.” Love you—?!

At that very moment, everything came crashing down on the stunned Gladio. His hopes and dreams, his broken heart…the realization that while he had been studying the art of the egg, someone else had come and swept Ignis off his feet. All this time he thought he still had a chance on one of his best friends, he was already too late…

And the man who held his most tender affections…had given his away to someone else…

Ignis hung up and faced his way. That contented look fell open when his gaze landed on that loaded tray he carried. “Oh my, is that breakfast?” Too late—if he turned back now, it would be even more awkward and embarrassing.

So Gladio chose instead to force a smile on his face as he approached. “Thought you might be hungry,” he tossed in for good measure.

“I am a little,” Ignis confessed, bouncing up to sit. He looked like he was in a very good mood… “This is very kind of you, Gladio…” He trailed off; a look of twinkling delight decorated his face when those soft green eyes of his landed on the golden yellow of Gladioʼs masterpiece. “Why, that looks absolutely perfect.” It worked—it had all paid off. Countless wasted eggs, all those meals where he was forced to eat his mistakes because he didnʼt want to waste his food…

It would have been the perfect opportunity for Gladio to finally tell him everything. That heʼd been admiring him from afar, that he wanted to do something special for him to show him how special he was to him…

“Cool,” was all he said in the end, letting the tray stand over Ignisʼ lap, turning into a mini table especially for his use. Ignis was still obsessed with his sunnyside success. “So uh…” Gladio wiped his hands on his trousers and swung his hand out towards breakfast. “Dig in. Food wonʼt eat itself.”

Ignis picked up his fork and knife, though he hesitated to cut through the perfect dome.

“Cʼmon,” Gladio forced out a laugh, tried not to bring his hand to his hair. “It, itʼs just egg. I can just make you another one—”

“You?” Round eyes flew from breakfast to its maker.

Gladio felt his face burning up. “Uh…y, yeah…” He nodded, lips pressed awkwardly to a smile. “I…I made that.”

“Why?” Ignis spat out. “Gladio, I could have just as easily come down and helped with breakfast. My apologies, I didnʼt mean to enjoy myself thoroughly as a guest.”

“It…itʼs not that.” Gladio pulled at his earlobe. Stupid tongue, stupid mouth. “You…you remember last month? We spent all those nights sleeping in Noctʼs apartment ‘cause I was teaching him how to fight in the dark? So we always met at night? And youʼd sometimes make eggs for us for breakfast and…” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trainers. “You always gave him the perfect eggs. And you gave me the last good one so that youʼd take the worst.”

Ignis smiled shyly, putting his attention back to his plate. “Iʼm afraid…since weʼre always pressed for time…I do apologize I was unable to perfect them all.”

“I mean, I donʼt mind eating ‘em plain and scrambled, yʼknow?” Gladio shrugged. “I ainʼt fussy about my food. But…” This time, he couldnʼt stop himself from rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…wanted you to enjoy a runny egg, too. ‘cause I mean, you deserve it, too, yʼknow?” So much ado for eggs. “So I asked Jared and Iris to teach me. So I could make you one…”

Awkward silence settled easily like a draped blanket. Gladio had expected this much but now, he didnʼt know how to follow it up. His feelings were futile now. Heʼd already made it weird enough by serving Ignis personally without the intention to continue with some heartfelt declarations and now, he was just standing there, and Ignis was just sitting there. Looking as if the doctor had just told him some bad news.

He put the cutlery down instantly. Pressed the backs of his fingers on his cheeks.

Laughed brightly—or tried to—as he picked up his knife and fork again— “This is—” A clumsy twist of his wrist brought the glass of orange juice tilting dangerously to the bed. Ignis dropped his knife and rescued it swiftly only for his fingers to glance through the slippery glass, pushing it the other way—

“No!!” It was the most devastating wail Gladio had ever heard from Ignis when the glass landed on his egg—and split the dome. Yolk mingled freely with cold juice and ice, and the buttered bread became sopped with them. There was no tissue for Ignis to correct his mistake, though, so all he could do was to right the empty glass and cry, “No, no, no, this is a disaster!” It was more than that, it was the mother of disasters.

“H, hey, donʼt worry about it!” It was difficult to stay positive, though, after seeing all his hard work ruined so easily. But Gladio kept a conscious effort to smile when he carried the tray off of the frantic Ignisʼ lap, despite how it felt like heʼd poured the orange juice right onto his own heart. “Iʼll just replace this.”

“I apologize, I am not normally this frazzled…” Ignis frowned so bitterly up at Gladio, the trauma of his accident still fresh on his features. “Gladio, this is terrible, I am truly sorry!”

“It—itʼs just egg,” Gladio laughed. He had to keep laughing because everything was bad right now. “Take it easy, it ainʼt a life. Look, Iʼll just make a new one.”

“No, Iʼm coming with you.” Ignis tossed his thick blanket back so he could fly to his feet. “Give me 5 minutes. Let me make up for that egg.”

“Nah, itʼs fine! Itʼs…” Gladio cut himself off when Ignis disappeared behind the bathroom door with a sharp slam. Five minutes wasnʼt nearly enough time to psych himself up for another sunnyside perfection, but he had to at least show that this was completely nothing to his bruised heart.

But first, he had to dry his tears in his hands. Canʼt show Iris that heʼd already been rejected to begin with.

Chapter Text

Somehow, Gladio had made it through another long day—even when it seemed like it would never end. Thereʼd been meetings left and right, a surprise inspection of troops from his father whoʼd deliberately lied about being away to catch them off-guard, training sessions with the new recruits then the crown prince and then in the evening, with himself…

Despite all that, he managed to bring himself to the shower room where he could wash away all the dayʼs work, even put on a little music from his portable speaker to keep him company in the late night. He let it play on as he stepped out and made for the locker room to get dressed.

Cor welcomed him with his characteristic unreadable expression, back straight where he sat on the bench, arms crossed perfectly over his shirt. “Nice music,” he commented. “Is that whatʼs in these days?”

“Depends on what youʼre lookinʼ for.” Gladio grinned at the marshalʼs observation, setting his shower kit down next to him. He hadnʼt counted on the man to still be around but this wasnʼt the first time he was graced with his company post-practice.

He switched off the music, opened up his locker to bring out his bag. “Frankly, I donʼt listen to the radio these days, this stuff comes from Somnify. Want a playlist?”

That made Cor bounce his shoulders once in amusement. “I wouldnʼt know what to do with it, Gladiolus.”

“Need a ride?” Gladio pulled his towel off his waist so he could zip up his jeans.

Cor graced him with a modest smile, then. “I thought youʼd never ask.” That was normally why the important man lingered, after all.

They got into his SUV, relegating the backseat for their things. “Your tattoo looks like itʼs coming along nicely,” the marshal commented suddenly, pushing his seat back for the legroom. “When do you expect to get it done?”

“Hopefully before Astralsʼ Day?” Gladio shrugged, wheeling themselves out of the empty parking lot, through the gates with the bowing guards. “It all depends on the tattooist, I think heʼs got a family emergency right now.” He waited for a motorcycle to pass before he merged with the one-way.

“I see,” Cor said, turning his attention to the Crown City at night through his window. “By the way, have you seen Ignis today?”

“Nope.” Gladio looked right, then left, before he turned to the right. “Was he lookinʼ for me?”

“No,” Cor answered. “But he seemed out of it when we met for a quick session earlier. Iʼm just curious if you know why, or if it might be about the prince again.” Whatever it was, Gladio couldnʼt answer.

Couldnʼt wait to drop Cor off in his apartment so he could finally call a friend and ask what was up.

“Me?” Noctis asked him back, and from the tone of his voice, he could tell that he wasnʼt the reason behind Ignis being distracted. The TV was on, and he could hear the telltale rustle of a bag of chips. “Um…Iʼm fine, I guess. Why, did something happen?”

“Thatʼs what Iʼm trying to find out.” Gladio exhaled through his nostrils. “The marshal had a quick session with Ignis earlier and he said he looked a little out of it.”

“Huh, so him, too?” Noctis replied. “Yeah, I thought he looked like something was bothering him but he wouldnʼt tell me what it was. He left without joining me for dinner. Maybe he has more meetings?”

“I just left the Citadel and I didnʼt see his car,” Gladio shared. So what could it be…?

No—what else could it be?

Gladio frowned, even as Noctis offered to call up his childhood friend to see if he was at home. “Sure, sounds good.”

They got their answer soon enough: “Heʼs still outside, says heʼs having coffee with a friend.” A friend.

“Dʼyou know if heʼs eaten yet?” Gladio asked. He was driving again by the time Noctis had gotten back to him and had signaled a turn into his street.

“I dunno. Maybe? He couldnʼt have spent 3 hours in the coffee shop, could he?” Well, Noctis had a point. Still, Gladio couldnʼt settle with that…

“Yeah,” Gladio switched off his signal and pressed on the gas, “good point.”

Twenty minutes later, he was parking his car across Ignisʼ apartment building and taking the lift up to his friendʼs unit. A call through his door and the buzzing of his doorbell yielded no results. So he was still out.

From his pocket, Gladio produced his spare key and let himself into the empty apartment, something he secured for himself just in case of a royal emergency. Which this occasion wasnʼt but anyway, it was still something that concerned the prince so there was that. A brief inspection of Ignisʼ tiny kitchen just near the door produced some pork belly slices, carrots, potatoes, exactly one daikon radish and some green onions and ready stock, even a small bowl of leftover tofu cubes. It wasnʼt perfect but it was better than nothing.

He chopped them all up, tossed them to sauté in a pot before he added water, then brought them all to a slow simmer while he washed up after him.

Ignis had arrived just before Gladio was finished, looking every bit like someone who hadnʼt had anything decent in his stomach, or a decent evening at all. Those weary eyes caught him while he was bringing the tasting bowl to his lips.

“Hey!” Gladio started, putting down the dish so he could make his way to Ignis watching his progress with the enthusiasm of a ghost. “You’re finally home. Noct told me you were out with—”

“What are you doing here, Gladio?”

That caused him to stop. Gladio gestured to the door. “I left a note.”

Ignis raised the yellow sticky in his hand. “I saw the note,” he said. Gladio had stuck it to the door because he didnʼt want to surprise Ignis with his presence. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh…” Gladio raked his short hair back and flung a hand to his pot. “I made you soup. I…I wasnʼt sure youʼd eaten yet so I made something that could work both ways…donʼt worry. Itʼs one of the few things Iʼm good at—”

“Gladio,” Ignis cut him off with a heavy sigh, pushing his glasses up so he could pinch the skin between his eyes, that sticky note crumpled in his hand. “Thank you but I would like for you to leave right now.” Oh…

Gladio paused…

Then nodded, head bouncing up and down, as if to negotiate some time for his hesitation to swallow itself. “Yeah, okay, sure. Lemme just switch this off, itʼs almost done, anyway.” He started towards the pot.

“No, itʼs fine, I can take care of that.”

“Ignis, cʼmon, I didnʼt start this just so youʼd end up finishing it—”

“Gladio, please!”

Ignis wanted him to stop—and that was the way to do it. Between the roar grating at his throat and the twisted frown on his face, Gladio was left only to stare, speechless.

Bitterness colored Ignisʼ features as he shook his head. “Please stop,” he went on, softly, hotly. “Please stop taking care of me.”

Gladio was the interloper here, but to hear those words from a friend he held closely to his heart gave him the gall to look darkly at the very man he wanted to care for.

“Itʼs very kind of you,” Ignis insisted, as if that was enough to balm the prick of his heat on his skin. “And truly, I appreciate it. But this isnʼt your place—”

“‘cause it hurts you?” Gladio spat, interrupting him. “It hurts you that someone else is doing this when that damn Silas should be the one in my shoes!”

“Donʼt speak of him that way, Gladio.”

“Why not?” Gladio took one step closer to him. “‘cause Iʼm right? Whatʼs he done again, this time? Did he go out with his ex behind your back? Did he lie to you again ‘bout where he went last night? The friends he was hanging with?!”

“I said, stop it!”

“Why are you doing this yourself, Ignis?!”

“Because I made this decision, Gladio!” Ignis barked back, matching his indignation with bared teeth. “I made this decision to give him another chance so I need to stand by it!”

“It doesnʼt make you less of a person to give up on your first love and choose yourself for once!” Gladio retorted. “Life ainʼt perfect, Ignis! We all gotta make mistakes, even you. So stop trying to salvage something that ainʼt worth your life and look at your gods damned self for once!” He threw his hands towards him, and then to the pot. “And drink your gods damned soup while itʼs hot.”

He didnʼt even look at Ignis when he passed him, though he did stop by the open door once outside to see what he would do.

Which was to drag himself to the tasting bowl Gladio had set down, lift it carefully to his lips and slurp the broth. And choke, finishing the soup quickly so he could slip off his glasses and cover his eyes in his hand as he sobbed. He may as well have driven his knife straight through Gladioʼs heart. This shouldnʼt be happening. If he was only being cared for, the way he deserved to be for all his sacrifices, this wouldnʼt be happening to him.

He almost came back just so he could pull Ignis to his arms, but he couldnʼt do that to his friend. He would only risk breaking his trust and he didnʼt need that, not with his relationship leaving him in shards as it is.

With a heavy heart, Gladio left him to deal with his own sadness. For whatever it was worth, he at least wouldnʼt go to bed completely empty inside.

Chapter Text

yeah so that's how it is

Gladio hissed at Noctisʼ message on his phone, itching at his nape. Following the announcement of the disembodied voice, the doors on his side of the coach slid open, bringing in new passengers from the station. He got up as soon as he spotted an old woman and helped her down to his seat.

He spent the rest of the train trip holding onto one of the grips in the middle. How many bottles

1 big bottle of gin, Noctis replied.

All by himself?

yeah he wouldn't let prompto and i touch the stuff
well there's maybe like 1/4 left at the bottom

As if that was meant to improve the situation. Gladio had to sigh out loud in public.

are you going to him

Yeah, Gladio said. just gonna drop by the supermarket first

He bought chickatrice stock, actual fried chickatrice wings, then took the bus to Ignisʼ place, counting on his pantry to have the rest of the ingredients for what he had in mind: rice, ginger, scallions, soy sauce, pepper.

Everything went into the rice cooker, leaving him more than enough time to steep some green tea for cooling while he stirred the porridge now and again. It took more or less an hour to get everything done, and yet Ignis never stepped out to look in on him, not even once. Gladio doubted it was because he was quiet and figured the man was probably awake, except extremely hungover.

He moved carefully, then—he didnʼt want to make life harder for the poor guy. When he knocked on his bedroom door, he made a conscious effort to just…tap the wood with the crook of his finger. Even when he beckoned to the man, it was more like a loud mumble reserved to a private audience. He didnʼt wait for him to respond before he cracked the door open and peeked inside.

If anyone had told Gladio that he would one day see Ignis Scientia like this, he would have laughed at that person, challenged him to a bet and subsequently lost good money. But there he was, lying under covers, half his face in the pillow, a green sliver of an eye glaring at him under a heavy eyelid. This was his most successful impression of Noctis on a weekend morning, thus far.

He shouldnʼt blame Gladio for smiling, though he did, at least, keep his bemusement to himself. He opened the door a little wider so Ignis could see a little more of his face. “Hungry?” he asked. “I made some rice porridge for ya. Should remind you how it feels like to be human again.”

Gladio fixed Ignis up to lean on his pillow before he brought in a steaming bowl of the stuff, and a glass of iced green tea which was finished onsight.

As for his breakfast, Ignis took a little longer nibbling and slurping at it one spoon at a time. “Which soy sauce did you use?”

“Oh, uh…” Gladio scratched at the long part of his hair. “The one with the yellow label?” Was there more than one soy sauce in the kitchen? He just went for the first open bottle he found.

But Ignis nodded, scooping on. “I like it. Itʼs flavorful and spicy.”

“Yeah, I added a little extra ginger,” Gladio shared, putting his elbows on his knees where he sat on a chair next to the bed. “Itʼs a natural remedy, yʼknow?” Ignis nodded again. Of course he would know that. Between the two of them, he was the real chef. He was just some guy who tossed things into a pot and hoped they didnʼt burn.

“What happened, anyway?” he ventured to ask, now that Ignis wasnʼt inclined to murder him for looking at his face. “Noct told me you tried to make friends with a whole bottle of gin, and Prompto had to take you home?” Well, he knew what happened, from what little Noct told him.

But he did want to hear it straight from the chocoboʼs beak. And for that, Ignis lowered the bowl onto his blanketed lap, and stared deeply into the abyss between them. “I chose myself,” he muttered. Meaning he had another argument with that Silas, but chose a different ending this time. One that washed Gladio with surprise and relief but he had to be careful not to celebrate in front of his hurt friend. “And the blow to my pride was too much that I needed to dull my senses to live with my decision.”

Gladio let out a quiet breath through his nostrils. He flipped his hand like a fish. “Well, no one said self-care ainʼt painful. But I bet ya, itʼll be worth it.”

Ignis smiled dully. “I lost the battle. And I lost sight of myself, of what was important to me as a person who loved.” He tilted his bowl towards him to inspect its contents. “And the only way I could do it was by telling myself that even when I became the biggest fool, at least I would wake up to a bowl of porridge. With chickatrice and ginger and soy sauce and sesame oil.” He choked and started to shake with tears. “And now I see how low Iʼve fallen because it feels worth it…!”

“Whoah, whoah, careful where you spill that thing.” Gladio had caught both bowl and spoon before they touched his sheets and got up quickly to leave them by his writing desk where they would be safe.

Then he was back to Ignisʼ side, wrapping his arms around the man who sobbed into his hands. “All right, all right,” he cooed, patting him heavily on his back. “I know it ainʼt the best porridge but itʼll fill you up good. Better than a bottle of gin, at any rate. Next time you try to make friends with something that starts with a g, just call me, okay?” Ignis wasnʼt listening, of course.

Or maybe he was, because he thought he was crying harder. He was going to make himself feel worse this way, Gladio thought. Pounding headache, dehydration…

“Iʼll take the day off,” he told Ignis. When Ignis shook his head, he added, “Canʼt take care of the prince if I donʼt have his adviser, right? Cʼmon, I donʼt get paid enough to handle him on my own.” He wondered if, when Ignis quaked suddenly in his arms, it was because he was laughing. “Let’s just order delivery, though. I donʼt really wanna eat porridge for lunch…”

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay! Itʼs sizzling, itʼs sizzling—” Gladio spat out a curse when the pan popped.

“Ahhh, itʼs sizzling!!” Prompto panicked, flipping quickly through the Iron Shelf book he held.

“Hey, Prompto, donʼt just tell us itʼs sizzling, do something about it!!” Noctis wailed.

“If itʼs sizzling when it shouldnʼt be, you need to turn down the heat,” Ignis advised. Which was easier said than done.

At this rate, Gladio wouldnʼt be surprised if he combusted all of a sudden with the heat of the pressure of cooking not just for one, but for all four of them.

Something that came to be because he had to rise to the occasion—Ignis had come down with a fever after that late night hunt they ran so they packed up and made a detour to Lestallum, taking the long way around to avoid some meddling MTs. Unfortunately, that meant they had to take lunch at a haven because Lestallum was still about an hour or two away and everyone was hungry. Ignis wasnʼt allowed to touch the grill despite his willingness to sacrifice his health. Noctis, by virtue of his kinghood, refused to commit to the delicate task, as well, and volunteered instead to keep an eye on Ignis. That left Gladio and Prompto to tag-team their meal.

Hence this. “Okay, okay, I got it!!” Prompto announced victoriously. “Mm, mm, mmmm…” He scanned the lines of the page with his finger. “Nananana…when the sauce is sizzling—when the sauce is sizzling! Add the breaded chocobo fillet to the pan, making sure to leave enough room to coat them completely!”

“Right, got it!” Gladio reached for the bowl of dressed fillet and set them down one by one, as gently as he could. Despite that, the pan still attacked him with an angry hiss. “Shit—” He jumped back.

“It wonʼt bite you, Gladio, take it easy,” Ignis told him.

“Ahh, dammit—hey!” That was Noctis. “Get away from my dadʼs car!”

Off he went, summoning his spear from the crystals to wave it at a pair of voretooths sniffing around the Regalia parked just across the road from the camp. Speaking of things that bit.

“Ahh, shouldnʼt we help?” Prompto tilted himself to the side, looking past Gladioʼs bulk, towards the errant creatures in question.

“Nah, Noctʼs a big boy now. He can handle two voretooths,” Gladio answered him—

“You should be flipping that one in the middle now.”

Both Gladio and Prompto squawked and jumped at Ignisʼ intrusion, his nose poking between their shoulders while he pushed at his glasses. A gloved hand hovered dangerously close to the tongs in Gladioʼs hand until he nudged him back with a forearm between them. “What the hell, get back on your chair! Prompto, youʼre on.”

“Roger that!” Prompto struck his brow with his hand before he took the sick man by his elbows and guided him steadily back to the fire.

Noctis returned shortly after, fuming about opportunistic wild animals, and then the spicy chocobo fillets were done, too.

Gladio and Prompto served both king and adviser personally. From their initial scent test, their little foody link-strike seemed to have worked. Even though the breaded fillet looked a bit soggier and darker than what the book showed…

“Whoah, it smells good,” was Noctisʼ swooning verdict. Gladio and Prompto shared a triumphant grin and bumped their fists. Then he cut himself a piece of the fillet and ate it with a spoonful of steaming hot rice.

Like poison, it made him drop his cutlery, letting it clatter to the dirt as his hand flew to his mouth in total shock. Those deep grayish, bluish eyes stared at his Shield and his best friend in complete betrayal. “H, hey…are you two trying to kill me?”

“What?” Gladio tensed around his shoulders. “What is it? Too hot? Too spicy?” Heʼd been accused of attempted murder by training but not by food poisoning. Was that possible? From the corner of his eyes, he saw Prompto taking his first taste and then jumping in his seat as he coughed.

“Itʼs too salty!” Noctis raged, swinging the dish at them. “I feel like Iʼm gonna need a kidney replacement before I finish my plate!”

“Hey, just ‘cause we ainʼt Ignis doesnʼt mean we did a terrible job!” To prove his point, Gladio took his first mouthful of his lunch. A celebration of soy sauce burst like a bomb in his mouth, taking no prisoners and leaving only the most cowardly hint of heat in its wake…and then nothing more.

He winced. “Oh.” If it werenʼt for his pride, he might have spat it out on the ground right then and there.

“Oh?!” Noctis cried in indignation.

“Prompto,” Gladio turned to his fellow chef trying to drown himself in mounds of white rice, “is yours bad, too?”

“Gladio,” Prompto looked like a kicked puppy when he shook his head, “I donʼt wanna finish it…”

Gladio hissed, flinching at his honesty. “Hey, you werenʼt supposed to say that out loud. We did this together.”

“You know that part where you went, Prompto, youʼre on? Thatʼs it, thatʼs probably where it all went wrong.”

“Hey, I was just following what you told me!”

“I see now how sick I am,” Ignis sighed, a quiet voice in the midst of the chaos.

All three eyes turned to him instantly. “Ignis, what do you think?” Gladio sputtered, suddenly rigid with suspense.

Ignis began by scraping the breading clean off the meat. “Well, the fillet is overdone, the breading isnʼt coated equally on both sides and the sauce is a little burnt…but other than that, itʼs quite tasty.”

“Really, Ignis?!” Hope became the shape of Promptoʼs eyes. “Y, you think so?!”

“Ignis, donʼt eat it if itʼs bad,” Noctis hissed, trying to take their main chefʼs spoon from him. “You donʼt have to defend them—”

“Nonsense, Noct, I need the protein and the carbohydrates to regain my energy.” So Ignis carried them away from his grabby hands.

“Ugh, whatever.” Noctis got up to leave his unfinished plate by the grill. “Gladio, Iʼm taking one of your cup noodles!”

“Hey, donʼt take the curry!”

“But I want the curry!”

Prompto wanted the curry, too, but out of guilt and friendship, he stuck with their terrible lunch, copying after Ignisʼ technique of just doing away with the breading to make it a little more bearable. Ignis thanked him for the risk he made by allowing him to splurge on junk food once in town. As for Gladio…

His thanks came in the form of a bottle of beer, the expensive kind, the kind that Gladio only drank when he felt particularly good about himself. Night had fallen and after a long day of wrestling with lunch and a pair of gigantoads who wanted them for lunch, their merry band finally made themselves comfortable in the last room The Leville could offer their budget.

Gladio took his tribute, toasted with Ignisʼ choice of bottled tea and drank to surviving another day. They stood in the balcony where they could look over the half-empty thoroughfare, its music rising up to their room. “You feeling better, then?”

Ignis nodded. “Indeed. And itʼs all thanks to you and Prompto,” he said. “Though perhaps you really ought to just stick with the one-pot stuff.”

“Might as well just slap me in the face and shake my hand at the same time, Ignis,” Gladio chuckled. “Still, least you got your carbs and your protein. And those skewers we had for dinner were amazing, werenʼt they!” A nudge to his friendʼs side who shook his head in agreement. “Good enough to forget about lunch.”

“Divine,” Ignis added, raising the bottle to his lips. “Quite simply.” He took a sip. “I want to try my hand on it.”

Gladio huffed, smirking at the town below them. “Bet youʼll give that grill a run for his money.”

“No, my audience is quite simple,” Ignis said, turning to him. “A little salt, a little pepper…and he would be more than satisfied.”

Gladio grinned. “Yeah, let the meat speak for itself!” He faced Ignis. “Sometimes, these people just overpower everything with herbs and Altissian pink salts…wait—me?” He pressed his beer to his chest.

Ignis laughed behind his smile. “No other, Gladio,” he confirmed his shock. “You…who have always taken care of me, even though I must have frustrated you countless times with my stubbornness and blindness.”

A confession which made Gladio laugh a little and gesture to him with his bottle. “Well, you wouldnʼt be Ignis if you werenʼt stubborn. And I wouldnʼt be doing it if…” He had to stop himself…

“If you werenʼt Ignis.” And mask his bashfulness by pulling from the bottle, drowning his honesty with beer. The truth, of course, was that he never stopped admiring him, not once. There was simply no question about it. The only reason why he had never been so forward about his feelings before was because he was worried it would get in the way of his duty to the prince. And he didnʼt want Ignis to think he was demanding anything in return for his affections.

And, there had been no opportunity to tell him about it until now, and Gladio had always prided himself with his frankness. “Look, catʼs outta the bag, anyway,” Gladio spat out before he could change his mind. “I like you, Ignis,” he said to those green eyes of his. “I…I always have. Ever since—”

“Ever since you made me that gorgeous egg in your house, Gladio,” Ignis nodded, “I know.”

Gladio stared at him. “Oh.” Well, this was…embarrassing. All those years, he thought he was hiding it well but…

“It…no, you made me realize how much worth I truly have as a person,” Ignis went on, still facing him. “I must admit, it hurt me at first. That a friend would cross the distance for me but not someone who claimed to love me. I thought I could teach him but that had been a mistake. And yet you never left me.”

“Not that I could.” Gladio shrugged.

“It took me years to see something so plain, itʼs almost hilarious,” Ignis started to laugh, “if…if it werenʼt too late.” Too late?

“Hm? With me?” Gladio stared at him, eyes round, brows high. “You kidding me? I just said I still liked you, Ignis! Which part of that is too late?”

“But I tarried too long to come to the realization that I…” Ignis bit his lip. “Iʼve come to care about you…more than a friend might. Your presence delights me, I feel warm and soft when Iʼm with you.”

“You make me feel all fuzzy and gooey, too,” Gladio snorted, amused by the turn of events. What 20-year old Him wouldʼve said if he knew. “It ainʼt too late—it wonʼt ever be too late, Ignis.” He shook his head, taking a step closer. “Not when itʼs you, Ignis. ”

“Truly?” Ignis looked like he almost couldnʼt believe it. What else could Gladio do but nod eagerly? When next he laughed, it came out with the brightness of his heart. “I must be the most fortunate man alive now!”

“You mean I feel like the luckiest guy on Eos.” Gladio grinned with him. He probably should have thought about his duty to the king first before he followed his heart, but he couldnʼt do that to Ignis. And after all these years of gazing from afar, he couldnʼt do that to himself either.

“M, may I…?” He offered his hand.

Ignis took one look at it, then unclipped his glove from his wrist and slipped it off his fingers.

For the first time, since he started to admire him, Gladio learned the shape of his hand in his.

Chapter Text

Miracles were few and far between these dark days, after Noctis had left them for the crystal. So when Gladio could actually get his hands on them, he liked to count them one by one, as a way of being grateful for their existence: a haven, a warm fire, a knife in his hand, sharp enough to slice through the meat and prise it from the bone.

Whatever animal it was, Gladio couldnʼt say anymore. Years spent in neverending night had twisted even the wild fauna of the region. He thought it might be a bulette but then it seemed too skinny and soft, and the fat too lean to be one. So it could be that even they had been mutated…or worse, gone extinct…

In any case, that animal had tried to pounce Gladio on his way to the haven, lost, and now it was food. No sticks to be found in this barren land, no time to look for them either; the risk was simply too high.

So he was just going to have to deconstruct this skewer. Gladio-style Skewers, he decided to call it, making himself laugh. An audience of one. He popped his pan-slash-plate onto the fire and waited for it to heat up. A meal for one.

It had been ages, actually, since Gladio had enjoyed the company of a friend to share the fire with. And while that meant he could at least spice up his meat the way he liked and even fill himself up, it only satisfied his physical senses. As for the rest of him, they were still left wanting. For warmth, for conversations, even if it left him in tears, as life these days were wont to.

Oil touched the iron and sizzled. Then came the meat, bringing up smoke and a noisy hush. Gladio gave it a little stir with the same cutting knife before he took a small vial of powdered seasoning from his pack to douse the protein with. Now the flavors were coming up to the air—savory, a hint of garlic.

“I must say, Sir, that smells quite delicious.”

Gladio had almost dropped the whole thing into the pan at the sound of that voice: even-toned, deep and soothing, reminding him of better days in the sun.

He couldnʼt believe his eyes when he saw his visitor coming up to the haven. “Ignis!” One more miracle for the road: Ignis Scientia.

And for the first time since theyʼd met, he was walking without the assistance of a stick. Gladio got up to guide him to a spot next to him. “W, what are you doing here!” he laughed. “Smelled my cooking all the way from the tomb? I thought you were in Fallgrove!” He couldnʼt believe he had an actual, warm-blooded human being with him at that moment in the haven. Even better, it was one of his most favorite people of all.

“I was,” Ignis answered, bringing himself closer to the flames to fan the smoke towards himself, sniffing. “But Talcott saw your pickup, and I thought lʼd drop by to say hi.”

“And Talcott?” Gladio turned first over one shoulder, and then the other. “Whereʼd he park? I havenʼt seen that kid in months!”

“He said he would look in on Cid,” Ignis shared. “He also said…we might like to be alone tonight.”

Gladio looked at Ignis; theirs was a fledgling love story, too young to take care of its own. Like a weak plant, it was stunted when it missed the light of the sun. That promise of spending their days together, hand-in-hand…of a shoulder to lean on became forgotten, replaced by the new terrors of a new world. Daemons, scarcity, hopelessness…

“Well,” Gladio said, shrugging, “I donʼt mind.”

Ignis smiled to the fire, its light reflected off his green visor. “Neither do I,” he said. Years had passed since he and the other man had met and yet Gladio couldnʼt remember a time where he looked more handsome, scars and ruined eyes be damned. That sleek pompadour with that lock of hair out of line, a defined jaw, with that little cleft on his chin…

“Eyes on the pan, Gladio. You donʼt want it to burn.”

“Yeah, good advice.” Gladio cleared his throat. He turned a few cuts over, letting those sides sear with a loud hiss. “So howʼs life treating ya? You donʼt bring that stick around anymore?”

“After I lost it to a serpentess, I figured I might as well go without.” Ignis adjusted his glasses, then took another whiff of dinner. “I havenʼt perfected life without it yet but I suppose you can say that everyday is a practice for my proprioception and my hearing. One day, I will get it down to an art. What is this protein? Is it garula?” Was there still any in the first place?

“Frankly? I dunno,” Gladio admitted. He poked his knife through a piece, found that it was tender enough for eating so removed it from the fire. He gave it a few good taps along the side of the pan before he brought it close to blow on it. “It tried to eat me, though, so I ate it first. Here, why donʼt you try? Careful, itʼs hot.”

With his other hand, he tapped lightly on Ignisʼ chin to guide him to the direction of his food. His friend…lover, boyfriend, whatever, opened his mouth readily and slid the piece off the blade with his teeth. He backed up, fingers on his lips as he chewed studiously—

Ignis started to cough, hand sliding down to his throat while Gladio opened up his hip flask and offered it to his friend. “Itʼs just beer,” he managed to tell Ignis before he guzzled it down unquestioningly.

He was still hacking when he returned the flat vessel to Gladio. “Take it out of the fire,” he choked.

Gladio snatched the handle and sat the base onto the cool rock in front of them as instructed.

Still coughing. Ignisʼ features looked tight behind his visor. He would pause sometimes to swallow his spit and then cough out whatever was stuck there again. “What did you put in that thing? That, that powder…is it powder or is it a powdery texture?”

“Itʼs seasoning,” Gladio sighed, trying not to frown as if the blind man could still see him. So instead, he pinched his lips towards one cheek. “Just something I put together to bring around for things like this. Salt, pepper, garlic powder, chili powder…”

“No sweet?”

“Huh?” Gladio pulled his brows together to that question. Sweet what?

Ignis had mostly calmed down by now, though he did still ask for his hip flask. Instead, Gladio searched his camping bag for his canteen of water and offered it. That was more welcomed. “You’re supposed to balance out those flavors with something sweet,” he continued after a mouthful of fluids. “Brown sugar, or granulated honey.”

“Oh.” Gladio poked his knife into a cut of meat and inspected it. Some parts of it had charred, though when he brought it to his nose to sniff, it wasnʼt…bad. It was still wild, aromatic. Carefully, he ate it and chewed. The game was there, the fibrous texture, wrapped around in a layer of salt and pepper and some flat-tasting umami…

He started to cough, too. The seasoning hadnʼt all melted in the grease. Ignis handed him his canteen. “Look, it ainʼt half-bad. Just gotta chew it carefully.”

“Half-bad?” Ignis chuckled, then sighed, shoulders sagging with his exhalation. After a pause, he smiled wryly. “No. Admit it, this is terrible, Gladio.”

Gladio scowled at him. “Look, I know it ainʼt Scientia-grade but itʼs good meat in a pinch—”

“I donʼt mean you and how youʼve done this, Gladio.” Ignis removed his gloves to hover his fingers uneasily over the warm air of the pan. “You could never be terrible at what you do. And I will always appreciate you sharing it with me.”

Before his friend burned himself, Gladio stuck his knife in another part of the meat, scraped it clean along the sides of the pan before he offered it.

Ignis wiped his finger along the top end and sucked on his skin. He was trying to get rid of all the excess seasoning, Gladio figured. “But if it werenʼt for my blindness…if it werenʼt for my incapability, we wouldnʼt be stuck with this kind of dinner.” He consumed the meat. This time, there was no offensive coughing as he chewed more carefully. “Itʼs good meat, Gladio.”

“Yeah? What did I say, huh?”

Ignis smiled again, weightily. “Still I…I wish I could give you better meat. More than what a pinch can offer. I still remember all your favorites, Gladio. Your smile, that look on your face when you finish them, how sweeter you cuddle at night.” A shy laughter.

“Hey, I can still be sweet.” Gladio shifted closer to his friend…boyfriend? When Ignis put down the knife, he left it in the pan, slipped off his bracer so he could take Ignisʼ naked right with his left. Those fingers responded and squeezed him back. “Ignis…where is this all coming from?”

“You donʼt owe me anything, Gladio,” Ignis told him. “If thereʼs someone here who owes anyone—”

“You donʼt owe me anything, Ignis,” Gladio spat, eyes wide. Ignis shook his head, though. “You gave us our kingʼs life, and youʼre still alive. What do you owe? We make our choices because we gotta make a stand for what we believe in, thatʼs all!”

“But I miss being useful,” Ignis sighed, his smile broken. “I miss being relied on. I miss being confident, knowing my way around the kitchen, around this world…”

“So what?” Gladio cupped his cheek, ran his finger over the raised lines of his scar. “Get it back. Look, you know you can do it. I know you can do it—youʼre Ignis Scientia! If you need someone to root for ya, then Iʼm here. And Prompto and Iris and Talcott and Cid…and everyone else. Hell, even Noct!”

Ignis was nodding by the time he was done with his declamation. “Of course. You…when you say it, you make it sound so possible.”

“Thatʼs ‘cause it is. I know you can do it, Ignis. Youʼre amazing. Thereʼs nothing you canʼt do once youʼve put your mind to it.” Even when Ignis couldnʼt see him, he had to smile. He had to behave as he normally would when he was still sighted. For his sake.

Ignisʼ hand alighted on his left cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of his earliest scar. “I believe you, Gladio. I will believe you, the man who never lost faith in me.”

“No, I believe in you.”

“No, I, you.”

“We gonna argue all night?” Gladio smirked. “You? No, you?”

“Well, the night is long.” Finally, Ignis grinned like he meant it.

That brought out a victorious laughter from Gladio, and his arms around his friend-boyfriend-favorite-person. Ignis hugged him back, and they stayed that way, basking in each otherʼs warmth and presence. They were both of them a promise of hope to each other. A promise of better things to come. If they just hung on to each other…they knew, one day, they would make it through the tunnel together.

Chapter Text

A year after the Long Night, and life was still rebuilding itself.

A decade of destruction could not be turned over in so little time, and much less the legacy of a clan that had brought so much darkness upon Eos, simply for want of power. Despite that, they would still celebrate Founderʼs Day in a weekʼs time—only now, they refused to honor the man who had started a chain of atrocious events. Instead, they wanted to celebrate the young man who didnʼt balk from his calling and died to save them all:

Noctis Lucis Caelum read the stone base of the king standing in the middle of the new plaza, where once stood…something Gladio forgot. A museum? A plaza for someone else?

There were other monuments being built for him, he knew. Images of him as a young prince, fishing, feeding cats, riding a chocobo. A project of Promptoʼs and a group of stoneworkers who wanted to keep Noctis as a part of their second, third lives.

Gladio would see them all once they were unveiled in Noctisʼ death anniversary. Before that, there was work to be done.

“Mr. Gladio!” the young voice called him and honked his truckʼs horn. Everything in this world was new—new schools, new libraries, new houses, new restaurants…a new government in a new city. But some things, some remnants of the world of ruin still persisted. Like old trucks, old friends.

Old habits. The world was still healing so despite having reclaimed their home, Gladio couldnʼt stay put. There were other towns and cities who needed what they had, and vice versa.

He turned back from Noctisʼ regal statue and waved to Talcott in his well-loved truck. He was parked at the back of a stout restaurant which used to belong to the soup kitchen until it had been moved to a bigger building, and its head chef quit, wishing to try something else closer to his heart.

“Mr. Ignis told me not to tell you,” Talcott began as he opened the door and got in the passengerʼs seat. “But todayʼs lunch special is Road Trip Skewers.”

Gladio clicked his tongue and hissed, pulling the door shut. “Heʼs doing this on purpose, isnʼt he?”

“You mean Lady Amicitia is,” Ignis corrected him, coming out of the back door to hand him a black plastic box where he normally packed him some food for the road. He was dressed in his usual black apron, The Regalia & Co. embroidered in purple over his left breast. Even his inclination for dark spectacles to obscure his scars and his eyes stuck around. “Iʼm only doing this because she wouldnʼt stop nagging.”

“If Iris wants those skewers, she can make them herself,” Gladio insisted. Not that he had a chance to change the menu this late in the morning. “Of all the days Iʼll be out on deliveries…”

“Then be back by dinner,” Ignis said, folding his arms over his chest as he stepped closer to the door. “Iris has agreed to close the restaurant for me. As for myself, Iʼve got something special in mind for you.”

“Yeah?” Gladio grinned, reaching down through the open window to touch his cheek. “Then Iʼll be back by then.”

Ignis smiled, leaning into his hand.

They rolled out of the restaurant, Gladio and Ignis waving to each other. Past the checkpoint, on their way to their first stop in Longwythe, Talcott finally broke the silence.

“So have you decided where to hold the proposal, Sir?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Uh…nope,” Gladio admitted, scratching his head. “Yeah, I guess we better, huh? Promptoʼs still split between the restaurant and the Regalia monument. I told him to just choose both but I guess heʼs the guy with the ring. Man, I canʼt believe heʼs getting married ahead of us.”

“Still no plans, Sir?”

“Weʼll get there when we get there, I guess,” Gladio chuckled, finally peeling the lid from the box. “I mean, Ignis and I are already living together, anyway.”

“Have you considered a civil union for the time being—”

Gladio cut him off with a burst of laughter. It wasnʼt Talcottʼs suggestion that tickled him, though—inside the plastic box was a set of sandwiches, lined up over a pair of green leaves and then surrounded by cherries and grapes. There was nothing special about them—the spreads were all store-bought, the bread plain wheat stuff.

What made them precious, though, was the heart shape they all came in, and the little sticky note under the lid which read in Irisʼ handwriting, From Iggy with love. P.S. Seriously! He did the planning and the cutting, I just arranged it and followed his instructions and wrote this message. Take care, Gladdy!

“Thatʼs a full package, Sir.”

“Right?” Gladio chuckled, taking a sandwich filled with strawberry jam. “Who needs a ring when you got sandwiches like this! Want a piece of my heart?” He offered it to Talcott.

Talcott giggled and shook his head. “No thanks, Sir. Ms. Iris packed me a salad.”

“Ooh, Ms. Iris packed him a salad,” Gladio echoed, making the young man red to his ears. “You know, as her big brother, I got rules about this sorta thing.”

“Yes, Sir,” Talcott nodded, clearing his throat.

Gladio laughed again. Fortunately for him, he was in too good a mood to bother him with that just yet. He bit into his sandwich and tore one side of its curved part. Sweet and tart filling mingled with the flatness of the bread. Just like Ignis, he thought. Making his life fuller and sweeter.

Looking at the sun through his window, he thought for a change, he couldnʼt wait for the night to come.