Chapter Text
Noctis pat the side of his cigarette and the growing ashes scattered from the opposite end. The puff of grey from his nostrils swirled outward until the gust became nothing more than a foggy remnant of flame.
“It’s so boring here. Nothing ever happens in this town. It’s like this all the time.”
Monotone were his vocal strings. That solemn voice traveled on golden breeze, sent to nowhere and collecting with the great nothing. Noctis blinked slow, tired. His posture slouched significantly. That’s when Ignis turned his head to furrow his brow.
“Boring?” Ignis asked. He watched the embers crumble and scattered fumes fluttered far away until they were gone from sight. Noctis took another puff, soon to add in a line of vapors like chimney rings as the man observing him wet his lips in an attempt at speaking more clearly. His throat was coarse as he presented an argument. “Perhaps it only seems that way. This is our home afterall. It always has been. Considering it so should bring you some comfort.”
The tall man fixed his glasses back into proper placement upon his nose. He pondered over their years spent right here, from townhouse to townhouse, ultimately landing them in this apartment. Therein a silence brewed, and it was peaceful – at least to Ignis who treasured instances such as these.
Noctis appeared ignorant or otherwise unimpressed by the rays of warm sunset beams raying down from the skies. As it washed over the southern landscape, it painted Noctis in captivating highlights of domestic loveliness. The ongoing wind swept around him carrying clouds of toxic exhalation in grey drafts. The flurries from the shortening cigarette looked to be going nowhere. Purposeless. Just the same as Noctis saw his hopes and dreams. They were fading away. Simple as that.
At that time, Ignis stalled his glimpse of him. Standing with the sink water soaked in his shirt that stuck to the edge of the kitchen counter, he found himself entranced yet again by Noctis and his recurred boredom. His expression was as he wore it yesterday. It was empty. Void of joy and practically lifeless. There wasn’t even any room in those striking features for fear or sadness; no fantasies of the future.
And yet somehow, his beauty still managed to reach through to the surface and it was stunning. Noctis always managed to be that way. Without explanation. Without falter. Again and again.
What a gorgeous picture he would make right now.
Though Noctis was never one much for sitting still for long, someone like Ignis could validate in a heartbeat that his friend was indeed a lazy person. That sloth attitude hadn’t kept Noctis from persistently desiring more. He was endlessly at a constant longing. Ignis admired his ambitious style in spite of how it decorated his heart with anguish, like an exhibit of one in meaningless grief such as now. Smoking from the balcony perch, unbothered by what once was a risk to be caught by his father and given a verbal scolding. If it provided any thrill anymore, Ignis certainly didn’t see it. That was the only displeasure Ignis found in this image of him. Someone so radiant and full of vitality and passion was shrinking by the day into an unrecognizable relic of his past self. Noctis was changing, and it wasn’t for the better like Ignis hoped.
“Home shouldn’t feel like this…” Noctis leant into the palm of his hand and sent his eyes further towards the horizon of the city. Dozens of buildings and glistening windows littered the skyline.
Ignis lowered his head in unspoken thought. The man slowed from scrubbing the dishes and became still, dipped down in hot water and bubbles.
How long had they been like this, and how much longer could it keep going on? It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this way and he dread it wouldn’t be the last. He wished to voice all the ways their lives were well and safe, and especially so since they had each other. They weren’t alone – which was more than most could say. As friends and dreamers, side by side with one another, they were at the edge of chasing the brilliant and the unforeseen. They were running from the ugly history of their youth. If only he had the courage to show Noctis the delight of that instead of dwelling, he would kneel before him and tenderly praise the exposed space of his collar bone with a kiss and shower him with words to transform the shade of his ears red as roses…
Crystalline rainbows reflected from the cup Noctis raised to kiss instead, and he sipped away the nasty taste of his cigarette with a fresh splash of wine. The elegant shadows of the crimson juice complimented his body as the living work of art it was.
One day, Ignis vowed to change Noctis’ mind about Duscae. It was heavenly here. Whether one was to ask a tourist or even the locals, the answer was consistent. Sure, it kept most people here the duration of their lives. For those seeking to settle down, it was paradise.
Noctis wasn’t interested in staying settled.
Even if by miracle he could persuade Noctis to see reason, Ignis knew his perspective over this small-town was set. Fate predetermined something greater to call him. The unknown beckoned his spirit in new directions far from the day-to-day familiarity. There wasn’t an alternative answer to be given.
Ignis loathed the thought of uprooting.
“Do you recognize this one, Noctis?” Ignis dried his hand on the cloth hanging over the stove handle before turning their radio dial. Melodic volume lifted with the twisting of the knob. “It was our song in highschool.”
Noctis remained in place. Irritated, his eyelids fell heavily shut and he quietly sighed. “Ignis, you know I don’t like hearing that anymore.”
“…I’m sorry?” Ignis lifted his head to look back at Noctis. He didn’t seem irritated at all. But- “What was that you say?”
“I said I remember it,” Noctis repeated patiently. He leant back as the last cinders expired from the bowl of his ash tray. “We slow danced to this one back on Saxham street and in the Nebulawood with all the lights…” His lips parted in reminiscence. “I admit. It was a pretty good one. I’ll give you that.”
Ignis bat his lashes from confusion. How odd. He mistook this moment completely and thought he’d heard words that apparently weren’t ever spoken. Was he still upset over what happened…?
“Ah… My apologies.” After a hesitation, he began to reach out to the small black speaker box. “Should I turn it off…?”
Eventually, the sound of feet scuttled across the floor and the weight of footsteps bent the apartment floorboards. In the next seconds, Ignis was startled to find hands on his backside.
“No…” came his whisper. “You can keep it on. Reminds me of sneaking out. Kinda miss those days.”
“You mean, you’re not mad?”
Noctis deliberately leant a little more of his weight against him. “Don’t make a comment like that. Just enjoy it. If there’s one thing I remember about this tune-” A hand crept around Ignis’ torso toward the radio buttons and the volume cranked higher “-it’s not nearly long enough.”
Together, the pair swayed slightly back and forth on their heels. Noctis’ motions were sluggish. Ignis’ were tender as his feet were tired from the long day on his legs without rest. Yet he couldn’t pass the opportunity to feel someone he treasured relaxing their face between his shoulderblades. Wrapped around him. Fingertips grazing his chest. Ignoring the dampened stains of his apron. Minutes of blissful rocking away from falling asleep standing up. Of course Ignis could collapse from exhaustion alone. But if another slow dance after their intimate hardship could soothe him to sleep rather than this ongoing monotony, he’d oblige. Happily. Even if that meant he didn’t get to look the one he loved in the eye.
There was warmth radiating from them for just a short while. It was splendid while it lasted.
That night, Ignis concocted a plan. There was a way to restore Noctis’ vitality. All in due time.
And in the right amount of time, Ignis confidently presented the fruits of his labor. It took years of careful planning and hard, hard work away from the one he wanted to save, but at last Ignis gave an exalted exhalation, then slammed down the last of his luggage upon the ground in front of his feet. Noctis almost jumped back upon witnessing his enthusiasm.
“This is everything,” Ignis exclaimed. Noctis could only gawk at him.
“What are you scheming now, Specs?” He frowned nervously at the face Ignis made in response. The maniac simply waltzed in the door, randomly packed all his shit and posed there proudly. He couldn’t pretend that provided some kind of comfort. “A-Are you moving out? You could’ve let me know ahead of time for the rent-”
“There will be no more rent here. I’ve foreclosed the deal.”
“W-What?” Noctis shrugged sharply. “What are you talking about?”
The man in glasses extended his hand to show off the coloured slips of two cross-country tickets. Upon realizing what they were, Noctis’ jaw almost hit the carpet.
“There’s no way-!” Slowly, reality dawned over him. His eyes went wide like moons.
“There is,” Ignis nodded. He felt himself suddenly shining brighter than the tickets in his hand and richer than the money weighing his pocket wallet. “We’re going to Insomnia!”
“W-What!? I thought we couldn’t afford it! Ignis-”
There was a struggle to completely accept everything this meant. To Noctis, it was his all. He began rambling on in disbelief, but just like that – spilled paint on a blank canvas – Noctis came to life. He dazzled in animation with extensive colours that Ignis yearned all these weeks to see. How prismatic Noctis became.
The city of no slumber gave them the promise of a new future. Hopefully, a better one they could both chase. As long as Noctis was there, to Ignis, it was the only thing that mattered.
After that reprieve, it didn’t take another shot at convincing. One phone call to Noctis’ father and they could set their sails. Make way for the bustling roads and towering skyscrapers. Indeed, Ignis had a plan, and stage one was complete. The second phase involved a bit more conditioning. His prolific companion had a penchant for the arts from boyhood to present and Ignis wasn’t oblivious to it. The fact of the matter presented itself quiet clearly upon that day in the kitchen, smoking and cleaning plates while the radio sang to their onward journey. There were opportunities waiting for Noctis in the biggest metropolis this continent has known.
Noctis aspired a career in the world of artistic design. What better way to launch that into function than to start a business?
One last time, the two hugged one another in the golden rays of that Duscean apartment… and Ignis could swear the very walls were wishing them well, missing the couple at the final twist of the doorknob.
The latch was locked and they never looked back. It was decided. They would make their living in Lucis Capital.
It was a city of many dangers and unexplored vastness. But a speckle of floating dust on unoccupied window spaces had been enough to remind Ignis why he fought to bring about this change in the first place. Theirs was an aim only fantasies are made of. It took a temptation, fight, and blossomed through reverence.
To Ignis, the torn muscles, mental strain and poured sweat were more than worth a single smile of his.
“It’ll be important that you filter out all the weirdos then huh? In case we actually get those?”
The airstream billowed through Noctis’ hair and scattered the form of his strands about his face. Hot sunlight scalded the Regalia as they sped down the country road. Noctis hung a hand over the door and relished the outdoors despite the heat.
Ignis quickly fixed his vision on Noctis and observed him long enough to spare a knowing sneer. “I am certain people will take notice of you after we gain acquaintance. Insomnia thirsts for talents, Noct. Fear not, though. I have the means of warding away unwanted individuals. We shan’t be spineless newcomers, nor the uneducated victims of scheming, either. I’ve done the research.”
“Awesome.”
“When we arrive at the studio, I will contact the special agents and have the advertisements readied. That is, after we’ve finished moving in and get a chance to integrate beforehand. Does that sound alright?”
Noctis tugged his lips till they formed a smirk. “You’ve really got this whole thing covered, don’t you?”
Ignis returned a meek grin. He worded himself very wisely next. “It takes diligence to be sure every move is made correctly. I am opposed to the idea of anyone misusing your talents. You’re only just getting started.”
Ignis kept himself in a realistic position regarding their transition. He didn’t want anyone taking advantage of Noctis for his looks, his ignorance or inexperience. This was a major motivation behind Ignis’ study and why he referred to different specialists to pick the best location to settle, as well as the safest people to mingle with. Without their helpful information, even Ignis might have been subject to the unpredictable. This was a big urban economy full of hungry monsters… However, he hadn’t a lust for sullying Noctis’ positive outlook on Insomnia already. He kept most of the ugliness to himself. Afterall, Noctis hadn’t been this optimistic for months.
“You’re going to be marvelous, Noct,” Ignis went on. “I just know it.”
“Not just me.” His passenger smirked. “Can’t do this without a manager. Baby, we’re gonna hit Insomnia like a splash of hot coffee.”
“Hah. Well… First, we will have to settle into a hotel for the night. We can make the rest of the trip in the morning. Does that sound alright?”
“Let’s get a bottle of champagne before we book a room,” Noctis suggested. “We’ll set off in the morning after we celebrate!”
Ignis snickered. Inside, he was shouting out in triumph. “Very well.”
The covers made a smooth sound as they fell away from Noctis’ body when he sat up, and cool fresh air touched on his heated skin. He refrained from releasing the groan creeping up his throat thanks to becoming aware of that familiar headache pulsing through his skull. The clock told Noctis it was early. The nests of his knotted black hair told that their night had been long. He’d gone through it… and the late hours handled him rough this time. Despite his overall ache, Noctis could not stay. He knew the method by now. It was time to go.
Noctis struggled to release himself from the tangles of blankets and mangled sheets. He nearly surrendered to their tender caresses along his naked thighs and bare back. He stunk to high heavens and wanted to shower but that too would have to wait. Nostrils first recognized the scents staining his fingertips, just as his flesh felt accustomed to the stickiness along his limbs. Both wrists and ankles were equally marked. Dark and love bruised.
Those same sheets surrounded a submissive soul who begged Noctis the whole evening before to stay in his arms. Remain. This damn mattress yearned to cocoon him into a merge with his ex-lover, and weave him into a trap between its fabrics. Confined to its bewitching warmth lay the second victim of this voyeur bed. Noctis pondered over how Ignis lay there motionless and sound asleep. Scorned by their remnants of sensual weakness… It seemed neither of them were a match for the blissful addiction of carnal embraces.
Vicious.
It was always a rarity that Noctis rose before Ignis whatsoever. It was easy today. So long as Noctis kept quiet, getting dressed and getting along should be just as easy, with the condition of sustaining this migraine.
Fatigued and sex-worn, Noctis gathered his scattered clothes off the studio room floor. The expensive skintight top fit into his fist, followed by his authentic brand slacks and other necessary coverings, then he soundlessly assembled them in the proper layering to hide his nudity. The erotic turmoil of last night’s tears had dried out and nulled in crusted streams to this stale sense of digging in their old wounds.
Last night, they pushed and pulled at each other. Had they truly let anything go?
Ignis didn’t budge from his passive breathing motion, and his stripped back shifted little by little. Clawing scratches tattooed his skin. Up and down. Back and forth. Noctis adored that gentle pattern in Ignis’ lungs after they’d tussled in a war-field/love-zone… Once, they set themselves ablaze with the fiery essence of kisses. They stole air straight from the other’s ribs in passion and clung to the shapes of their lips smashed over one another. Ignis looked beautiful as he slept. Dreamy. Like they weren’t criminals to the feeble desire of flesh. This never should have come to pass. It was wrong, and yet Noctis took a pause to memorize the aftermath… the amorous glow of this unconscious man and the empty space of messy cushions. Noctis failed to deny his advances for quite some while and realized before he was fully clothed again that the fondness he felt was still very real. It was painful.
Eventually Noctis tore his melancholic gaze away. He tossed some dirty tissues into the nearby bathroom trash bin to rid the floor of some clutter. Next, he secured a piece of paper from the pages of a notebook Ignis left open on the front office desk… He ignored the documents lying next to the organized binders. Those didn’t concern him right now.
It had been three years since they brought their drive into the city of Insomnia. Three years of running from the truth; that they came together… but all Noctis could think of was drifting apart, even when repetitiously laying so close… It really couldn’t be helped, and he was tired of telling himself that.
Noctis scrawled a note. He folded it kindly – as if that were his only way of leaving an undisclosed apology for Ignis. His childhood friend. His highschool sweetheart. His partner. His past. His youth.
His guilt.
Ignis shook his head one. Twice. Fiercer.
“Noct?”
The man made an effort to pinpoint where his slippers had gone as he threw himself up to seated but discarded pursuit of them in the end. Ignis coughed a few times and massages against the sore muscles of his body.
His clothes from the night before were all that remained. Evidence to a crime scene, scattered madly about the floor.
“Oh no…” It was happening again.
Ignis scrambled for the house robe located on the corner of the closet shutters. That was plenty to shelter his indecency as he bolted for the bedroom door. He called out the name of the one who gave his devote affection, every inch Ignis did treasure ceaselessly. As it usually does, the morning takes him away.
“Are you still home?” he tried despairingly. No response came back. Nothing from the living room, nor the hall or even the kitchen. There were no radio tunes. No poems hiding in folded airplanes. It was just Ignis. He hadn’t even a single golden ray, it seemed.
Ignis found the answer he was looking for by the time he fixed his first cup of ebony for the morning.