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Summary:

It’s at this moment Ignis notices it. A purplish red splotch on the side of Noctis’s pale neck, right above the collar of his school uniform shirt.

The Prince of Lucis has a hickey on his neck.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Ignis isn’t surprised when he enters Noctis’s apartment and sees a worn pair of Converse sneakers neatly placed in the entrance next to Noctis’s haphazardly strewn pair of loafers. Prompto’s, no doubt. Sure enough, he can hear the familiar sound of the two boys’ laughter in the direction of the living room, though it cuts off shortly with a muffled grunt. Ignis sighs, rolling his eyes as he slips his own shoes off, placing them in line next to Prompto’s, picking up and straightening Noctis’s as well.

It’s not that he dislikes Prompto. Quite the opposite. It’s refreshing being around someone with no connection to the crown and his work. And though Prompto has a personality that is at a different end of the spectrum than Ignis’s, so to say, Ignis can appreciate it in small, expected doses. Emphasis on expected. Though he supposes it’s his own fault, having texted Noctis just an hour ago that he would be stopping by with some high priority reports from the council meeting he was just released from, not even waiting for a response or acknowledgement before heading over. Sure enough, he glances at his phone to see the message he sent remains unread, Noctis clearly too occupied with Prompto to bother with his phone, it seems. 

Ignis ignores the tiny lurch in his gut at that thought. He’s loath to call the feeling jealousy. He’s happy Noctis finally has a friend outside of him and Gladio. He may have even worried for a while that Noctis would finish his public schooling without making any close friends, due to his position as crown prince on top of his withdrawn personality ever since the Marilith attack in his youth. So he’s relieved Noctis has Prompto—someone carefree and unrelated to his responsibilities as crown prince, someone he can be goofy with and mess around with and just be young with. Prompto brings out a side of Noctis that has been rare to see in the years since Tenebrae. A side Ignis has missed dearly, that he didn’t seem to be able to bring out himself, despite their close and long held friendship. And maybe it’s that fact that makes him feel a bit… Dejected. Certainly not jealous though.

Ignis pushes those rather unsavory thoughts aside as he emerges from the hallway, entering the living room. The room appears to be empty at first glance, that is until the sound of a struggle followed by Noctis’s bright laugh cuts through the air before the prince’s head pops up over the back of the couch, hair disheveled.

“Dude, get off me!” Prompto complains, though his voice is tinged with laughter, shoving at Noctis’s face. The two of them are twisted up on the floor, as if they were just wrestling. The feeling of a sinking boulder in his stomach has nothing to do with catching Noctis in a compromising position with his best friend, Ignis tells himself. 

He clears his throat, announcing his presence. “Pardon me, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, voice dripping with a bit too much venom as he steps into the kitchen, setting a bag of groceries he picked up on the way over on the island counter.

“Specs,” Noctis replies easily, looking over at Ignis. “Wasn’t expecting you,” he says as he leans back, straddling Prompto’s lap to keep him in place while the blond squirms in an attempt to escape. 

“I sent a message but it appears you haven’t had the opportunity to check it,” Ignis explains, forcing himself to avoid looking at the two.

“Mmmm, yeah, I was a bit occupied,” Noctis smirks, reaching down and pinching Prompto’s side.

”Dude!!” Prompto exclaims, face bright red as he swats Noctis’s hand away. “S-sorry Ignis, I was just about to leave anyway,” he says, shoving Noctis off him and standing, quickly gathering a camera and several plastic film canisters off the coffee table and shoving them into his backpack. 

Noctis pouts. “Prom…” he hisses, but Prompto just gives him a look and an exaggerated gesture and Noctis rolls his eyes in response.

”Well, good to see you, Prompto… Apologies for my arrival, I didn’t mean to make you rush,” Ignis says dryly as he begins unbagging the groceries, observing the blond as he rushes to leave. His hair is sticking up—much like a chocobo’s behind feathers, his clothes are rumpled, and he’s bright red all the way down past his neck at this point. 

“No, no! No problem! I have to be home soon anyway! Tons of homework tonight! That I have to do alone at home of course, even though Noct’s in my class but like, he’s distracting you know—I mean not like that or anything but—”

Goodbye Prompto,” Noctis interrupts, playfully pushing Prompto towards the hallway as he rounds the sofa to sit on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter.

And with that, Prompto shuffles out of the apartment, seemingly taking all the noise with him as the door clicks shut behind him, leaving Ignis and Noctis in silence. 

“So why’d you decide to stop by today?” Noctis questions, peeking inside the grocery bag.

“I received some urgent reports at the council meeting today, I wanted to bring them by so you could get a head start on them,” Ignis explains, earning a groan from Noctis. “I know, I apologize. Which is also why I thought I’d make you dinner, to at least make the visit not a complete negative.” 

“Mmmm, you know I can’t complain about that,” Noctis smiles, stretching out and running a hand through his hair. It’s at this moment Ignis notices it. A purplish red splotch on the side of Noctis’s pale neck, right above the collar of his school uniform shirt. 

The Prince of Lucis has a hickey on his neck. 

The ice cold shock quickly turns to a red hot flush, Ignis looking away quickly. He can hear his heart thumping in his ears, the pit of his gut feeling frigid still but his chest burning as his brain races to process his feelings. 

Surprise? A bit. But Noctis is a high school boy, he’s 17, of course his hormones are dialed to the max. Of course he’s going to mess around a bit, as uncomfortable as it makes Ignis to imagine it. 

Confusion?  Probably. Prompto is Noctis’s best friend, and male at that… Though Noctis never really showed much interest in girls. It would make sense he would seek to experiment with someone he knows and trusts. Or, maybe they’re something more than that… Which brings him to—

Jealousy? No. Absolutely not. It’s true that Ignis had been having some… confusing emotions lately in regards to Noctis. It doesn’t help that ever since Noctis began hanging out with Prompto, he seems to have gained a little more confidence in himself, teasing Ignis more and initiating more physical affection than he ever had before, at least not since they were children. A playfully suggestive comment here, a brush of hands there, the prince’s body pressing up against his own more than strictly necessary when they review council reports together. Does Ignis sometimes mistake it as flirting? Maybe. Is Ignis foolish enough to think Noctis would have feelings for him? Never. Ignis knows their positions. He knows what he can and cannot have, and even entertaining the thought of the Prince of Lucis having deeper feelings for his advisor is absolutely ridiculous. 

Logical as his brain is, however, his heart is a much more naive thing. It is with great shame and reluctance that Ignis might admit he has developed a crush, against his better judgement, for his friend—his prince. He knows it’s a hopeless notion. Doomed from the start. But matters of the heart are uncontrollable, it seems. And he wished to leave it at that, bury these feelings before anyone, especially Noctis, could find out. But he fears it may be too late for that now, as he feels those emotions bubbling out of his core like molten black tar, rising like bile in his throat. 

“Something wrong?” Noctis asks, raising a brow, having finished stretching and noticing Ignis freeze in the middle of unloading the groceries. 

“N-nothing,” Ignis tries to say, but Noctis is turning his head and—astrals, there’s a second one on the other side of his neck, bright and taunting. He can’t hold it back now, all those feelings, the jealousy, all leaking from his pores and catching fire and turning into rage. His hand shoots out across the counter, gripping Noctis by the chin harshly, turning his head to put the side of his neck on full display. 

“Are those hickeys?” Ignis hisses sharply, grip tightening on Noctis’s face as he turns it to the other side, revealing the other hickey. 

“Wh—fuck Ignis, calm down, what are you, my dad?” Noctis scoffs, leaning back as he swats Ignis’s hand away, his movements light as he laughs it off. “It’s no big deal, they must have happened earlier when Prompto—”

“I really don’t need the details, thanks,” Ignis tries, though after a moment of thought, he caves. “So it was Prompto?” he asks, and it sounds far too bitter. 

“What, are you jealous?” Noctis retorts. Ignis’s silence is telling. “Fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“If the press gets a photo of you with hickeys on your neck it’s going to be a huge scandal,” Ignis lectures, deflecting the focus to work concerns. 

“They happened in the apartment, I haven’t been outside since,” Noctis says, rolling his eyes. “So nothing for my diligent advisor to worry about… That is, of course, unless he’s jealous,” he taunts with a smirk, tongue sticking out to swipe along his lower lip. 

“Why on earth would I be jealous?” Ignis fires back too quickly. He realizes his gaze is stuck on the pink of Noctis’s tongue, and he tears his eyes away from it, desperately looking anywhere else. “And that’s besides the point… How will you cover them up? You’re not going to stay cooped in your apartment until they heal.”

“Oh my god, I’ll wear a turtleneck or something,” Noctis groans as he tips his head back and kicks his legs, like a bored kid during a lecture.

“In spring?”

“A sleeveless turtleneck. Crop top. Poparazzi’ll be way too distracted by my midriff to wonder why I’m hiding my neck,” Noctis grins, lifting up his shirt to show off his softly toned stomach as if in demonstration. 

“You’re ridiculous. Do you like giving me headaches on purpose?” Ignis questions, leaning over the counter and placing his head in his hands. 

“Kinda. You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Noct replies, the tip of his tongue once again sticking through his teeth as he rakes his eyes up and down Ignis. 

“Noct…” Ignis sighs, and it sounds tired as he drops his arms to his side, looking up at Noctis. He doesn’t understand what Noctis is thinking and it’s so frustrating because that’s been the one thing he’s trained for his entire life. The teasing and flirting… Is he mocking him? Is he just in a phase where he wants to experiment sexually? Why Ignis? Does he know about how he feels? Is he being cruel on purpose? 

“Iggy,” Noctis goads with a smirking chuckle.

At that, the thin thread of patience and rationality in Ignis snaps. He comes around the counter to Noctis’s side, the prince swiveling on his bar stool to keep his eyes on his advisor. Rough hands grab at Noctis’s shoulders, shoving him down until he’s splayed back against the counter behind him. 

“You are a horrible brat sometimes,” Ignis hovers over him, eyes locked on his marred neck. Noctis swallows, and Ignis can’t tear his gaze away from the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, up and down. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Noctis breathes, smiling under Ignis’s piercing gaze, legs wrapping around Ignis’s waist and pulling him in flush to him. “Maybe my advisor should teach me a lesson.” 

“What lesson, pray tell, is it that you need?” Ignis asks, lifting a hand to caress Noctis’s cheek, running down to his neck, over the fresh bruise there. Noctis flinches, the flesh sensitive, as he bites his lower lip. 

“Teach me what a man will do to me if I keep teasing him,” he breathes, challenging Ignis with a look directly in the eyes. 

Ignis should back off now, play it off like the joke it surely is. Even if it’s not a joke, he shouldn’t be enabling Noctis in this. This can’t go anywhere, even if they both wanted it. Which they don’t, Ignis desperately tries to convince himself. His hand trails back up Noctis’s neck, thumb brushing against Noctis’s bottom lip, and Noctis just continues to smile back, eyes sparkling as his tongue swipes out to give the digit a lick.

Unbelievable brat

“If it so please his highness,” Ignis hisses as he cracks, grip shifting to Noctis’s chin and angling his face just so to bring their lips crashing together. He wastes no time, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, licking into Noctis’s mouth and relishing the surprised moans it pulls from his prince’s throat. 

After several moments of heated exchange between their mouths, Ignis decides he likes hearing the sounds Noctis makes, and sets an immediate goal to coax out more. Hands travel to grip Noctis’s hips, pulling him in roughly and rolling his hips against him. The movement has Noctis gasping, breaking away from Ignis’s mouth to bring in shaky breath as he looks up into his focused gaze. 

“Fuck, Specs, didn’t know you had this in you,” Noctis says breathlessly, a smile spreading across his lips as he tips his head back up for more. 

Their kiss interrupted, Ignis’s eyes travel down, spotting the marks on either side of Noctis’s neck. That ugly twinge in his gut is back, telling him to take back what’s his, what’s always been his, no matter how long he denied it, no matter who else has touched his prince. 

He’s leaning down, ignoring Noctis’s mouth and latching onto his throat instead, right over one of the marks. A keening moan slips from Noctis,  the sensation of wetness and suction and biting on the sensitive wounds going straight to his groin, his hips bucking up against Ignis with no shame.

“Iggy,” he pants, hands tangling in Ignis’s hair, “Hurts, y-you’ll leave a mark,” Noctis warns, tugging gently at the strands. 

“You already have marks, what’s some more?” comes Ignis’s sharp reply as he switches to the other side, sucking the bruised skin into his mouth. “I’m teaching you a lesson,” he says between the biting kisses he litters all across the expanse of Noctis’s throat. 

Noctis lets out a breathy laugh. “You want to claim me so fucking bad, don’t you?” he moans, gripping Ignis’s hair tight. “Do it, then. Leave a mark. Show everyone who I belong to,” he goads some more, because the prince has never been quick to learn a lesson. 

Noctis tips his head back to give Ignis full access, letting him have his way with his throat. Ignis takes his time ravishing every inch of Noctis’s neck, up to the lobes of his ears, across the rise of his Adam’s apple, down to the dip of his clavicle.

“Mine,” Ignis breathes as he leaves one last gentle kiss on the tip of his prince’s chin, finally leaning back to look at the result of his handiwork. Noctis’s throat is completely covered in red patches, some areas already starting to darken to a purplish tone. Noctis is breathing heavily, looking up at him with cloudy eyes. It starts to sink in just what he’s done, like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on him. 

“Noct I—”

“Don’t freak out,” Noctis cuts him off, lifting a hand as he sits up, disentangling his legs from their place around Ignis. Ignis takes a step back to allow him space, but on instinct he reaches back out to steady him, gingerly placing a hand on his arm. 

Noctis rolls his shoulders, tilting his head side to side a few times as if to crack his neck, hissing in discomfort. Ignis winces as he watches him, the angry color blooming across Noctis’s neck only getting more intense as time passes. Noticing the pained expression Ignis makes looking at him, he takes his phone out of his pocket, switching on the front facing camera to observe the damage to his neck.

“Oh wow. You really did a number on me huh,” he murmurs, turning his head side to side to look at the different angles of his neck. Ignis feels like his face is on fire, a deep shame welling up inside him. “Looks like someone strangled me…”

“Noctis, I cannot even begin to apologize,” Ignis blurts out, staring at the ground. “I am utterly ashamed of my behavior and though provoked, I should never have let myself give into such abhorrent behavior—”

“Ignis, look at me.”

Ingrained in him since he was old enough to remember, he cannot help but obey the direct order, lifting his gaze up only to be met with a soft kiss on the lips. 

“Shhh, that’s enough spiraling from you. I wanted this, I asked for this, yeah?” Noctis soothes, but it does little to comfort Ignis’s racing thoughts.

“I should not be encouraging this type of behavior, Noctis! You are the prince, you should not be getting any hickeys, nonetheless from, from canoodling with two different people on the same day—”

“Only canoodled with you, though,” Noctis corrects, snickering at the word choice. Ignis stares at him like he grew a second head.

“This all started because Prompto gave you two hickeys—I saw them, there’s no use denying—” Ignis begins, but he’s cut off by a Polaroid picture shoved in his face. He takes the photograph, observing it closely.

It’s of Noctis, making a silly face with two black cylinders jutting out from either side of his neck, much like the bolts on Frankenstein’s monster. Ignis is not quite sure why Noctis is showing this to him now of all times, looking back at him with a raised brow.

“Did you know if you suck on an open film canister, it’ll stick to your skin? Prompto thinks it’s hilarious, so we were goofing off taking photos with Prompto’s new Polaroid camera I got him,” Noctis explains, motioning towards the photograph in Ignis’s hand. “Anyway, turns out if you keep it on too long, the suction from the canister will leave…” Noctis trails off, letting the realization dawn on Ignis.

“A hickey,” Ignis finishes for him, staring at the photo, then back at Noctis. “That is so… incredibly idiotic… And exactly what I’d expect from the two of you, I’m afraid,” he sighs. Noctis breaks into a wide grin. 

“I was honestly pretty pissed because I knew you would get the wrong idea, but Prompto convinced me I could use it to my advantage by making you jealous enough to finally make a move,” Noctis explains further. 

“Finally?” Ignis questions as he feels his face turning red. He’s beginning to feel a bit foolish, seemingly falling directly into Noctis’s little scheme.

“Uh, yeah? I’ve only been dropping hints for the last year or so that I’m really into you, and I know you well enough to know you’d never believe me if I just told you outright,” Noctis shrugs as he explains. “So I concocted this little plan to make you get out of your own head… And also to get you a little mad. You’re kind of really hot when you get angry, you know.”

“Awfully bold of you to presume I had feelings in return, wasn’t it?” Ignis muses, placing his hands on Noctis’s hips to pull him in closer. 

“Nah, that was easy. Like I said, I know you. You like giving me what I want,” Noctis teases back with a cheeky grin, leaning in and wrapping his arms around Ignis’s neck.

“Spoiled brat,” Ignis scoffs, but his expression is purely affectionate.

“And who’s fault is that? You love it, because I’m your brat,” Noctis corrects, leaning in and giving Ignis a soft kiss.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Ignis agrees. “You’re mine.”

“I’ve got the marks to prove it, after all,” Noctis grins, showing off his neck. “Though maybe next time just buy me a collar instead, it’ll be easier to hide.”

”Noctis!” Ignis chides, face turning red. He can’t keep the image from his mind, though, of a narrow collar around the prince’s neck, Ignis’s initials on the tag.

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Noctis prods, tongue peaking out between his smiling teeth.

“Oh, hush, you brat.”

Notes:

Thank you for reading this silly little thing!

When I was a kid, my sister stuck a film canister on her cheek and it gave her a hickey. We were young so didn’t understand the implications of hickeys (or even what they were), but in hindsight my parent’s reactions were quite hilarious.