Chapter Text
Ignis burned dinner, so as soon as the balcony door was open to air the apartment out, Noctis turned to stare a hole into the side of his face.
“Apologies,” Ignis muttered, doing whatever magical kitchen things he needed to save the fish.
Noct stared more meaningfully. “Are you dying?”
Ignis’s mouth twitched. “Assuredly not. It was a simple mistake, Noct.”
“Did your dog die? Your hamster? Your, I don’t know, your naked dwarf bulette?”
“The only helpless creature arguably in my care,” said Ignis dryly, removing blackened salmon skin with surgical exactness, “would require far fewer loads of washing and ironing, were he a naked dwarf anything. Never mind the royal expense of his dry cleaning.”
Noctis didn’t realize he’d gone silent until Ignis looked up. “Noct?”
“Is it my dad?”
“Ah, no. No, it’s nothing like that.” Ignis sighed and snuck his fingers under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. Noct relaxed slightly; if it were something actually serious, Iggy would be solemn, not half-exasperated like this. “It’s just… my uncle. And no, he isn’t dying, either. I was only thinking about something he said to me over lunch the other day. Ruminating, I suppose.”
Okay. Not Dad. Calming down, Noct sunk back into the couch and loosened his tie. “Must’ve been some ‘something’ to get to you this bad, Specs.”
“It won’t happen again,” he said quickly, not looking away from his cooking.
A beat passed, and another, and then Noct leaned all the way forward in his seat, squinting as hard as he could, one undone end of his tie in either hand. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked, astounded.
“I—certainly not. What do I have to be embarrassed about?” Ignis turned abruptly from the pan to retrieve plates and glasses with way more clatter than was strictly necessary, and Noct felt his eyes widen.
“Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Specs.”
Ignis pushed said spectacles up his nose and walked briskly past with his serving tray. “I’ve no idea what you could be on about,” he grumbled.
“You just ended a sentence with two prepositions in a row. You never do that.” Noctis got close enough to put his hand on the tray and pushed it down on the kitchen counter, trapping it there with their dishes loaded up. Intense now, he leaned in. “Spill.”
Caught, Ignis balked and started to sputter some kind of excuse. Noct leaned further in, and he sighed. “Uncle merely… expressed his concern. That I’m ‘too young’ to be ‘married’ to my job.” Like a displeased maid, he swept Noct’s hands off the tray and escorted it smartly to the dining table. Under his breath, he added, “Never mind it’s hardly my fault your upkeep’s become such a domestic proposition.”
Noct waited, then followed Ignis to the table. He crossed his arms, bent to the side so he could see Iggy’s face, and raised his brows just a hair.
After six years’ training with the Crownsguard, it took a whole five slow seconds for Ignis to crack. He was too refined to hiss through his teeth, but he still managed to make it sound like each word had to be dragged out of him with fishhooks. “And he suggested that I might be well served to find a… a mate. As an outlet, of sorts. So I don’t spend all of my waking hours in service to the Crown—just most of them.”
For some moments, the only sound was the quiet tinkle of silverware finding table.
“A. Mate?”
“His word. Not mine,” said Ignis, and six years with the Crownsguard couldn’t do anything against the color that spread faintly down the back of his neck.
They sat down to dinner, the two of them, in silence, and Noct managed to hold it long enough to eat half his salmon before he finally put his head down to laugh.
---
promptothenightfurry: omg a MATE???!!!?!!??1? ﾉｼ(*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ ﾉｼ(*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ ﾉｼ(*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ
promptothenightfurry: LMAOOOOOOOO!!
promptothenightfurry: does he think iggy’s a bird or something?? Omglololol.
fisherprince: i kno lol
promptothenightfurry: like is his hair a mating crest or what?
promptothenightfurry: plumage???
promptothenightfurry: noct help i’m dyingnngngn
RespectThePecs: The conversation’s even better with Prompto’s nick like that
promptothenightfurry: noct won’t change it back to something normal!!
RespectThePecs: Iggy’s uncle’s right, though
fisherprince: what
promptothenightfurry: whaaaaaaat?
RespectThePecs: When I go home, I leave the job behind
RespectThePecs: I eat dinner, play with Iris
RespectThePecs: Catch up with my old man
fisherprince: ya
fisherprince: same?
RespectThePecs: Iggy doesn’t do that
RespectThePecs: When he leaves the office, he goes to you
promptothenightfurry: (ó﹏ò｡)
RespectThePecs: Even when he doesn’t, he’s fixing your shirts or prepping your meetings
RespectThePecs: Shit like that
fisherprince: oh
fisherprince: so u think ignis should date some1?
RespectThePecs: Oh hell no, I think he should get LAID
promptothenightfurry: omggGG
RespectThePecs: Shake those tailfeathers at a nice peacock, if you know what I mean
fisherprince: nononono
RespectThePecs: Aw, your virgin eyes. Can’t take a little hypothetical yiffing in the chat, Princess? That’s racist against Prompto
fisherprince: ya im changing promptos nick
//promptothenightfurry is now nicknamed noctsbetterfriend//
noctsbetterfriend: awwwwwwwwwwwwww! you do care (●♡∀♡)
RespectThePecs: Yeah see, I thought that said “Noct’s butt friend” so your mileage may vary
fisherprince: y do we let u in here
RespectThePecs: Wouldn’t know your beak from your behind without me ;)
RespectThePecs: Anyway, dinner’s ready here. Iris cooked, can’t miss it
noctsbetterfriend: later gladio!!
fisherprince: get outta here
//RespectThePecs is offline.//
noctsbetterfriend: i should go too, didn’t realize it was so late! can't believe i haven’t eaten yet
fisherprince: prompto wait
noctsbetterfriend: ??
fisherprince: i got his mating call
fisherprince: ignis
noctsbetterfriend: omg
fisherprince: ............
fisherprince: ...
fisherprince: .
noctsbetterfriend: waiting on the edge of my seat here bro!!
fisherprince: ive come up w a new recipeep
noctsbetterfriend: omF
fisherprince: u kno
fisherprince: chicks dig it
noctsbetterfriend: KGKL:’;FK!!!
---
They cleared the chat history, of course. Ignis never checked between eight and ten. None of them knew what he did during that time—Gladio suggested trashy reality TV, Prompto thought he must be learning fifteen languages at once, and Noct had money riding on masked vigilantism—but they didn’t look a gift chocobo in the mouth. Late evening was their time, and their time was precious and full of stupid, hideous gossip.
The strongest friendships were built on just these kinds of bricks.
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noctsbetterfriend: hey though why don’t we set him up with someone just for fun?