Urere Sanguis

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Author Notes: Clearly I have a very obvious kink for crossdressing. Like... very obvious. I wrote a pretty specific kink-meme request... but since no one was filling it, I decided to just fill it myself.

Warning: Sex, slightly drunk/drugged Ignis. Not fully penetrative, but there are many fun types of sex! All the sex.

Ignis didn't particularly want to be out; he had a meeting with the King at noon the next day about Noctis's welfare since graduation and then plans to spar with Gladio after. Then it would be returning to Noctis's apartment, making more Tenebraen pastries, helping the prince with his calculus homework whilst pining over what could never be.

At least, that was how Gladio phrased it when he threw a leather jacket at Ignis's head.

"We're going out. Just looking at you is making me sick. All this woobly emotional crap is getting hard to wade through, Iggy." His friend stared at him with big brown eyes, pleading. It was almost comical coming from a man who could bench press a car. "You're even making me sober. Just go out there, find yourself a hot piece of ass, fuck it senseless and let it go."

Let it go.

"I don't need to gyrate against someone in a club like a common beast to take care of my base urges. I assure you, if I have the urge I'll take care of it myself." He was hardly a virgin; there was a time in university where he had taken to trying new things that had been off limits before… it had been when Ignis was away from Noctis for long enough to realize that the pull he had to the prince was more than just lust.

He had felt lust before. Whatever was happening to him with Noctis... it was something that certainly had another layer under the surface. It was more than that, and Ignis knew he despised it. It was painful, like a constant ache in his chest.

"You wouldn't be so uptight if you did."

"It is absolutely none of your concern—"

"Look, Iggy. I get it. You're in love, you're devoted, yada yada ya. Fine. I'm not here to try an' convince you otherwise. What I am trying to do is getcha to come out with me, get drunk, get fucked, and let off some of that tension. It isn't good for you."

Gladio was trying his best to be a good friend, but all Ignis could see was black hair and blue, blue eyes.

Gladio sighed. "Just come out with me, be my wingman?"

Fighting with the Shield was futile. He may as well have given up, and it was clear to Gladio that he had already won the round and the night.

So there they were, packed into one of the popular clubs in Insomnia like sardines. The name "tHe sIXx" was emblazoned across the doorway in red chalky writing, though Ignis was not sure what could have made anything in the place holy. In fact, from the garbage bags piled high outside, Ignis could certainly imagine that the Six would certainly not enjoy a place of such… ill repute.

Ill repute. No wonder Gladio thought he was so uptight.

It smelled just as bad as it looked. The moment they were through the door the music and scent of bodies and sweat made Ignis feel a little lightheaded.

"Think he recognized us from those shots in the magazines," Gladio said as they passed, though Ignis would have been shocked if anyone in Insomnia didn't know who they were as of late.

The paparazzi had made it their mission to track down the prince. Ever since the gag order ended after Noctis graduated, the prince's photos could be taken at any function or public place; prior, only the King's carefully selected official photos were available to allow Noctis the "chance to learn and experience life in a manner befitting any young person of Insomnia."

Ignis hated it only second to Noctis, who had already quit his part time job at McCaelum's after one photojournalist caught him dozing into his burger during a break, his Kingsglaive escort Nyx flicking fries at his head.

Since then the prince had found himself spending most of his time in his apartment goofing off, at least until the shock of the prince with drool down his mouth, nose covered in fast food grease disappeared from popular culture.

Ignis wasn't sure when that would happen, but to be fair neither did Noctis.

Gladio caught his attention by slamming a glass tumbler into his hand, a stream of steaming liquid sloshing out and onto his hand. It didn't burn, but it definitely wasn't cold.

"What is this?" Ignis asked as he stared down at the concoction Gladio handed him, seeing that the flames were real, though they didn't seem to be hot. How peculiar.

"The Infernian," Gladio explained as he showed his own glass—solid blue with only the top of a beautiful clear ball of ice sticking out of the liquid. "I got a Hydraen. Drink up, Iggy. Let loose."

Ignis did not particularly want to let loose, but he knew from the look Gladio was giving him that if he didn't drink he would only delay the inevitable.

There was no getting out of this one, he surmised.

Ignis held out his drink, letting the flames flicker in the light. "To…" Ignis stared at the drink and the fire.

"To getting laid and moving on," Gladio raucously laughed until his voice seemed to echo through the room. A few people had looked up and over to the two of them, and Ignis could only shake his head and down the drink in its entirety. The flames puffed out and the liquid went down, burning a fire down his throat and straight to his belly. It filled him, letting a pleasant feeling rise through his skin, making his cock jump at the feeling of his pants digging into him.

He should have known better than to have trusted Gladio as he looked up, eyes narrowing.

"What was in that concoction you just gave me?" And that I stupidly drank without asking, though Ignis did not say the last part out loud. He hoped his face would say it for him.

Gladio clucked his tongue. "Nothing dangerous. Nothing illegal, either. Just a bit of a Mettle VX. Should help with your vitality; makes you horny as fuck, too," Gladio said as he pounded back his own drink. When he finished it he licked his lips and winked at Ignis. "You can thank me later, but Iggy— turn around and look at that number in red."

Ignis didn't want to turn around, because turning around meant admitting to Gladio that perhaps, fine, it was better of him to have done something like this than to have fallen to pieces in front of Noctis, but… he did it anyway.

He didn't regret it. Maybe it was the liquid rushing through his body, the way the Mettle VX was giving him an edge that he hadn't felt since he sinfully allowed himself to bury his nose into Noctis's hair one night when the prince had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Maybe it was loneliness. But, Ignis was pretty sure it was something more like lightning… or perhaps, like fire.

She looked like him.

Ignis wasn't sure what he really saw first—her black long tresses, her lush lips, her dainty nose, or her vivid blue eyes. Those eyes, so full of life and laughter made something inside of Ignis pull tight. She was close enough that Ignis could see her silhouette in the constant sway of changing colors. She was wearing red, like passion and blood and the drink he had downed a moment ago; it was the way Noctis's mouth would look if he had dared to crush their mouths together in the heat of a passion he kept hidden deep inside.

She really, truly looked like him; it was in her lashes, in her cheeks… and yet Ignis knew that she was different.

He could have her, couldn't he? No one would accuse him of abusing his station, no one would look twice. She was a woman; Ignis wasn't usually inclined to women, but…

She wore his smile like Ignis wore his heart on his sleeve.

"Go get her, Iggy. She's too pretty to be there all by herself." Ignis turned to see Gladio with another drink in his hand, rocking on the balls of his boots. "You'll thank me later. Trust me."

Ignis took a look at the drink in Gladio's hand— a violent purple that made Ignis's eyes water, but he quickly took that from him and downed it, not even wincing when the electricity in his mouth went down like a spark. He needed the courage; Ignis was not typically a shy man, and he had been involved in sex many times before and would no doubt many times after…

Yet there was something about her that Ignis could not quite put his finger on.

Ignis was pretty sure it was the Mettle VX and whatever was in the last drink he had downed, because there was something like a sheer fog in his mind, swallowing him whole. He could handle his liquor, but this was something different.

He realized it very quickly when he crossed the dance floor toward her, seeing her turned around. A pert, round ass and a long, sinfully delicious neck and there, nestled at the base of her throat at the point her dress met her choker, could Ignis see the hint of an Adam's Apple.

That suited him just fine.

So, using the courage of the booze and the red of her dress, Ignis boldly reached out and let his fingers run against the lace at her midsection, pulling her body taut against his.

"You look utterly ravishing, my dear," he murmured into her black hair.

She even used the same cologne he did.

She looked up to him with big blue eyes and yes, they were the same shade. A moment of something flashed through her eyes and she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Let's dance," she mouthed and spun from his arms, pulling him onto the dance floor. It was difficult to see her when the alcohol was only making Ignis see Noctis, and he wondered what she would look like when the alcohol disappeared from his system. That was the problem with taking anything mixed with Mettle VX; it made the mind think of what a person wanted, rather than what was there.

Her heels were black like her hair and Ignis couldn't help but to follow the curve of her heel up to her legs, the sheer skin-toned fishnets showing just a hint of her strong calves. The club was hot, because Ignis could feel the sweat prickling on his brow as he imagined those legs wrapped around his waist.

Clearly the pent-up energy boiling inside of him wasn't helping.

Damn it, Gladio. Damn it, Noctis.

Ignis focused on the shimmy of the woman's hips and the way they swayed to the music. Her hand was strong, slightly calloused but the red polish stood out starkly against her pale skin.

Ignis wasn't a fan of the loud music or the smell of bodies pressed together, but when she lifted his hand to place it on her hip as she swayed to the music it was hard for Ignis to think of anything but her. No.

Him.

Who was he kidding?

The only reason she was so alluring was because Ignis could almost see Noctis's freckles on her nose.

The way she grinded herself on Ignis, how she moved to the beat of the music, how she curled her fingers in Ignis's hair and pulled him down, whispering something against his neck…. It was hard to think, it was even harder to breathe. He couldn't tell what her words were, but he could only focus on the inky black hair against her dress, falling like black waves on burning blood.

She smelled so good, and Ignis wanted to feel her painted lips against his. He wanted to feel her body, her hands on him, her cock against his…

And then she took his hand again and the world was spinning in a miasma of colors that made Ignis's head hurt for a moment. The fresh air was a blessing, and her body against his and her fingers in his hair made Ignis feel like his entire body was on fire.

Ignis was a gentleman; courteous to a fault. He enjoyed to wine and dine his dates, get to know them. Casual trysts weren't his forte-that was more for Gladio. But he never kept them around for too long. There would always be something that would come up, usually involving Noctis. Noctis always was there, Noctis always needed him, and Noctis would always come first. And then his dates would grow weary of playing second fiddle for the prince, because it was more than Ignis's job to care for and love Noctis. It was who he was and who he would always be.

Perhaps it was better to meet supple, warm bodies that looked like his prince enough for him to pretend just for the night. In the morning, before the sun would rise and shatter the illusion, he could leave. It was better that way.

He had already given away his heart; they didn't need the morning light to see how his eyes would never be for them. Not truly.

So, Ignis didn't mind when he finally felt her mouth on his, her tight red dress and cock bulging against his pressing leg. He could feel her red lipstick smearing against his mouth and he embraced it fully. With a little pressure, more than he would have dared had he not accepted the drinks from Gladio, Ignis pressed his hands to her throat and cradled it gently to the side. She was busy nibbling at his ear and Ignis let his teeth run across her choker.

She seemed to have no issue with allowing Ignis do as he pleased, as he pushed her body against the wall. He knew from the pained grunt that the rock had dug into her skin and so Ignis pulled away and slipped off his borrowed leather jacket, wrapping it around her thin shoulders. It seemed to devour her entire upper body whole, though from the twinge at the corner of her mouth she certainly didn't seem to mind.

"We aren't done." Her voice was deep and low, the sound so familiar that Ignis's heart nearly burst in his chest. "Put your hands on me."

Who was Ignis not to comply? Hiking her up and pressing her against the wall, Ignis could hear the sound of creaking leather. No doubt Gladio would throw a fit later on about the state of his jacket, but Ignis could not be bothered to care, not with that wanton sighing and moaning filling the night air. She lifted up her thigh and with great care, Ignis wrapped his hand under her.

"Oh, oh," she muttered and Ignis sighed as her tongue darted across the shell of his ear. "Ignis, fuck."

Ignis blinked through the haze of the Mettle VX.

"I never told you my name."

Ignis head positively swam as he pulled away from the woman, his head full of pumping blood and the smell of that heady cologne, oh… the smell. Of course it has reminded him so strongly of Noctis; it was a special blend made specifically for Noctis's use.

Only Noctis.

"Fuck, don't stop," Noctis bit down on his ear. "Don't you dare stop. Please."

It was a prayer, one that Ignis could never say no to. It didn't matter what it was…. It was always for Noctis. Anything for Noctis.

Always Noctis.

Ignis allowed Noctis to throw up his other leg around Ignis's waist, letting them lock at the base of his spine. Hadn't this been what Ignis had dreamed about, yearned for during nights of passion while wrapped in the arms of others?

"Noctis," Ignis moaned when the other man ran his hands over his neck. "Noctis, I'm…"

I'm not sure we can do this. I'm not sure that we should do this. I'm not even sure if you are real, or if I'm real. I'm not sure what I should do.

"Please, Iggy. Please—" Noctis jutted his hips forward, the sinuously long black wig dragging against his cheek, cutting across his chin and down to his throat.

It was foolish that he hadn't noticed the little beauty mark against Noctis's chin; it was something Ignis had dreamed of kissing so many times that he could recall nights upon nights where he had forced himself to count numbers rather than think of the constellations of freckles and beauty marks. They were things he could not touch, would never touch.

Except now there was red lipstick blotting the skin next to that black mark, stark like the silence and the cold. He knew this face. He knew it.

It was him; maybe his body, maybe something deep inside of him had known from the beginning. Ignis wanted that to be the truth, but he knew better…. He wanted Noctis so badly that he was allowing himself to fall into his own senses.

This had to be the Mettle VX. It had to be.

It couldn't really be Noctis… except his smell and his face and those eyes. He knew them.

He knew this body.

He knew this smell.

He knew those damnable, beautiful eyes.

Ignis could feel himself hardening as Noctis ground himself down on the front of his pants. The sparks from his drink were settled so comfortably in his stomach; it was liquid courage, liquid luck. It was enough for Ignis to unzip his own pants, to be bold enough to help him pull out his cock. With more tenderness and care than he though capable in his current state, Ignis adjusted Noctis against the wall and hiked up his dress. His panties were red, too; the same shade as his dress, as his lipstick, as his blood.

"Iggy, please?" Such a soft question, instead of a command. It made Ignis's insides quiver, the kiss of something so human and needing pulling at the prince's words. "Touch me?"

Who was he to deny Noctis anything?

Ignis glided his fingers against the nip of fabric and slowly pulled it down, freeing Noctis's cock from the confines of the red lace. His precum was already heavy on the fabric, but Ignis could only manage to get the panties off one leg before Noctis attacked his lips again.

It was difficult to manage, and for once Ignis was pleased that the years of working out daily under the Crownsguard had paid off, giving him the stamina and strength to hold up the squirming prince in his arms.

Yet, once their cocks were touching everything seemed to melt away. Nothing mattered because the delicious moan emitting from Noctis's mouth only seemed to make him harder.

How was this possible? It already felt like his entire body, from the tips of his hair down to his toes, was a livewire, taut and ready to snap at the least bit of provocation. It was Noctis's nails running through his hair, scratching against his scalp as his thighs tightened. It was the rub of the stockings as they came loose and pooled around Noctis's right knee, exposing the flesh to the cold.

There were already goosebumps from the cold against his skin, a sheen of sweat slick across his brow. Ignis wanted to wipe it away, but watching it drip down his face, sliding down his throat, sent his body careening forward.

Instead, Ignis kissed him harder and Noctis was only more pliant and willing in his arms. How was it that it took a red dress for Ignis to cave into his own desires?

What a sight they would have been for anyone who dared to pass by at that moment; Ignis could feel the wig was slipping from Noctis's head, their mouths a gash of red, their bodies exposed and raw.

"Harder," Noctis demanded, "Gods, Ignis, harder. Please."

Ignis wanted to wrap his hand around their cocks, to tighten his hand around Noctis and feel him pulse against his skin, but did not want to drop him. Oh, gods… there were so many things Ignis wanted to do.

It was so tempting a thought to spread Noctis open, to press himself inside of that tight heat, but Ignis held back his desires. They weren't prepared, rutting against each other like the bests Ignis had been so callous about earlier in the night, but Ignis hoped that when the Mettle VX wore off he would still be able to see Noctis. His Noctis, his unflinchingly beautiful Noctis.

That would need to wait. He wanted to do that without the aid of drinks or drugs.

The fire was building inside, rich and heady like blood and sex and desperation. Red like Noctis's lipstick, like his dress, like the panties bouncing against his black heels.

"Noctis, Noctis," Ignis moaned as he rocked back and forth, their cocks rubbing so deliciously against one another, the heat of their friction giving them warmth in the slight bite of the February chill. "Noctis, I…"

Love confessions were not for men outside of seedy clubs, with dark stones and wet trash their companions. Noctis deserved more, he deserved the world. He deserved better than this.

"I know," the other man whispered into his ear, and Ignis lost his composure as Noctis whispered into his ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shock through Ignis's entire body. "I know, Iggy. Fuck, I've always known."

Ignis gave into that voice, allowed the drinks and Noctis's words to pull him into a place that he did not know what way was up or down, but only that his body was hot against Noctis and Noctis was there, and Noctis was coming hard against the lace of his dress and Noctis was perfect and always had been, and how was it possible to love Noctis more than he already did?

And Ignis followed him, because Ignis would always follow Noctis.

Always.

How long they were in the alleyway, Ignis wasn't sure. He could still feel the cum on the dress Noctis wore, bright white and sticky against the red and sinfully warm. When he looked up at Noctis's face he could still see the beauty mark on his chin, the sweat at his brow, his blue eyes like the ocean.

Ignis leaned forward and pressed their lips together, careful to not hurt the prince.

"Fuck, Iggy," Noctis whispered against his mouth. "Take me home. Take me with you."

Ignis gently put Noctis down, making sure to pull the ruined dress down to cover him up, leaving the red panties on the ground where they had fallen. He tucked himself back into his pants, not bothering with the buckles.

"How?"

How were they supposed to get home?

"Nyx is working tonight. He won't say anything." Noctis's eyes were wide, mouth trembling. "Just… please don't say no."

And so, Ignis didn't.

Happy Valentine's Day! If you want the sequel (AKA: The morning after) just let me know!

Please Review!