Someone To Lean On

Gladio burst into the hotel suite, red-faced and sweaty.

It wasn't that he hated hot weather—he liked it warm. He relished in those days where he could go outside without a coat and train in the sunlight, the warm rays tanning his skin. The climate in Insomnia had been pleasant and inviting, the changing seasons always welcomed. Lestallum, on the other hand, was a different animal altogether. Humidity rising from the disc coupled with the sweltering summer temperatures mixed to form a soupy, thick atmosphere that stifled the senses and threatened heat stroke at every turn. With his body temperature rising and his clothing soaked with sweat, he was beginning to curse his sister for taking refuge here.

"Gladio?" Ignis' voice wafted out from the small kitchenette. "Is that you?"

The warrior toed off his workout shoes and left them by the door. He ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel before joining his friend in the other room. Gladio rubbed his damp hair with the towel, trying to wick away some of the moisture accumulated from his run. He approached the young man, sidling up close to him while trying to stick his finger in a bowl of freshly-made cake icing. A torte cooled on a rack behind it. "Smells good in here, Iggy."

Ignis eyed him accusingly and scrunched his nose. He pulled the sweet treat away from mischievous hands. "Considering the source of the compliment, it most certainly does."

Gladio offered an embarrassed grin. "Yeah, yeah…I stink. Running in this goddamn heat will do that to a man."

"Do us both a favor and take a shower. Please." His voice was laden with irritation and something else Gladio couldn't quite place.

"Join me? Noct and Prompto won't be back for hours." Gladio traced a finger down the back of Ignis' neck, dipping down into the collar of his shirt. If Ignis was stressed, perhaps he knew a way to help him unwind. He was surprised when the bespectacled man pulled away from his touch.

"Not now…" Ignis sighed and went back to washing vegetables.

Confused by Ignis' lack of participation, Gladio decided to leave it for the time being. Something was definitely troubling him, but he knew better than to push the subject. Maybe if he gave him a little space, he'd open up eventually—like always. Gladio patted Ignis on the back and headed for the bathroom.

His shower was long and relaxing. Taking more time than he usually would, he enjoyed the serenity of not having a loud prince and his even louder friend rampaging through the suite. Sure, it was fun to have them around, and Gladio knew his duty came before anything else, but quiet was a luxury he hadn't been able to have in quite some time. As he turned the water off, the telltale scent of Ignis' dinner prep wafted in from the slightly-cracked door. He loved those little hot peppers Ignis seemed to be putting in everything lately.

He dressed slowly and took a moment to pull a comb through his damp hair. Just as he was balling up his dirty clothes, he heard a yelp from the kitchen, followed by a string of uncharacteristic profanities. He bolted from the steamy bathroom and found Ignis hunched over the sink, cradling his left hand in a dish towel. The fabric was quickly becoming stained red. Gladio dashed to his side.

"What happened?" He took hold of Ignis' hand and unwrapped the towel. Bright crimson blood spilled from a cut underneath his pinky finger. It was definitely deep. Gladio quickly re-wrapped the towel and held pressure on Ignis' palm.

Ignis shook his head in irritated defeat. "A stupid mistake. I was sharpening my knife and it slipped."

Gladio eyed him suspiciously. Ignis was one of the most careful, meticulous people he knew, especially when it came to his passion for cooking. For him to "just slip" and cut his hand like that was definitely out of the ordinary. He thought back to their previous encounter, Ignis pulling away from his advances and his voice laden with stress. Something was bothering him. Something big.

Was it something I said?

Something I did?

Ignis began to sway, queasy from the sight of his wounded hand. Gladio knew he was a tough guy, even though his studious appearance led others to believe otherwise. However, he also knew that Ignis' one weakness was injuries to fingers and hands. A weird aversion to have, but problematic nonetheless. Gladio grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him.

"You're gonna need stitches, Iggy."

Ignis sighed. "You're right, of course."

"I can do it here, if you want. Or we could go find a doct…"

"I trust you, Gladio." Ignis' voice was quiet. He blew out a long breath before adding, "I feel a bit faint."

"Let's get you sitting down." Gladio smiled softly. He knew Ignis trusted and loved him, but it was nice to hear it every once in a while. His field medicine skills were tried and true—Gladio prided himself on his wilderness know-how and survival mettle. He led Ignis to the table and sat him down, all the while keeping pressure on his hand. "Hold that towel tight, I'll be right back. Raise your hand up above your heart to slow the bleeding."

Ignis nodded silently and obeyed, lifting his bloody hand into the air as he hung his head between his shoulders. He took deep, even breaths in an attempt to get his queasiness to abate.

Gladio quickly dug through his pack, locating a small satchel filled with medical supplies. He dashed back to the table and sat down beside Ignis.

"Doin' okay?"

Ignis nodded his head languidly, keeping it hung low, and replied with a hushed, "Mmm-hmmm."

Reaching out, Gladio drew Ignis' hand closer to himself and unwrapped the towel. The fabric stuck to Ignis' skin, stained with coagulating blood. Ignis' head shot up and he hissed as Gladio pulled the towel away, causing the split skin to wrench itself apart.

"Sorry…" Gladio smiled apologetically and inspected the wound. The laceration was wide, but thankfully not deep enough to have harmed nerves or expose bone. That was something Gladio knew he most definitely couldn't remedy at the kitchen table. A few stitches and Iggy would be all fixed up. He doused a piece of gauze with antiseptic and wiped it across the injured area. Ignis bit his lip and groaned as the medication soaked into the wound. Gladio knew it must hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. "I can numb it with an ice cube if you want. Otherwise you'll just have to suck it up."

Ignis nodded knowingly. "Ice cube, please. My bravery is quickly waning."

"You got it." Gladio retrieved a cube from the freezer and held it against Ignis' bleeding hand. The ice immediately began to melt, the drips taking on a pink tinge as they mingled with blood. Ignis groaned audibly at the sensation. "I know it smarts, but you'll thank me later. Stitches the old-fashioned way are not fun. Trust me."

Ignis forced a tired chuckle and took over ice-holding duties, making sure not to look at his hand. "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not." Gladio removed a package of sterile needles and a spool of suture thread from the first-aid pack. He prided himself on always being prepared. As the ice numbed Ignis' hand, he threaded the needle. Setting the readied implement down to wait for the ice to properly take effect, Gladio figured this was a prime time to try and see what was bothering Ignis.

Gladio noticed Ignis' face was paler than normal. His eyes were tired as he tried not to look at his wounded hand. He looked so helpless and defeated. Gladio had never seen him like this before. Always the strong, level-headed "idea man" of the group, Ignis rarely got emotional—and when he did, it sure as hell wasn't around anyone else, usually not even with his partner.

"Iggy?" Gladio reached out and placed his hand atop Ignis' own. He prayed Ignis would be willing to talk to him. "Let me in?"

Ignis sat quietly, not acknowledging the question. Gladio watched him intently, focusing his gaze on Ignis' sullen face, his worried eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. After a moment, he licked his dry lips and began to speak.

"I was obviously not paying attention." Ignis voice was quiet as he looked up at him with desperate eyes. "I'm not myself lately, and I fear it could endanger Noct."

"What do you mean?" Gladio hated hearing the uncharacteristic wallowing in his voice.

"The headaches Noct has been experiencing. I'll admit they're troubling me tremendously."

Gladio had just been irritated with the prince, giving him grief at every opportunity and generally pestering him to get it taken care of. Ignis, on the other hand, had been more caring. He had offered herbal remedies to ease Noctis' discomfort, read up on alternative relief measures for persistent headaches. Ignis had been the one to hold ice packs on Noct's head at night and pull the drapes shut in the morning when the sunlight threatened to undo the prince's minimal recovery progress. But Gladio knew there was more to it than frustration over not being able to cure Noct's ailment. Ignis was not the type to let something like that bother him so much. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from their travels finally creeping up on him, or maybe there was something that Ignis knew about Noct's health that he didn't. Gladio let Ignis continue, hoping he would be forthcoming.

"I try my hardest to help him, and yet it obviously isn't enough. The headaches are getting more agonizing every day. What if I've overlooked something and Noct's health takes a turn for the worse? It would be on my watch, Gladio…and I don't know if I can handle that…" Ignis' voice trailed off with a heavy sigh.

Gladio removed his hand from Ignis' and brought it up to cup his chin. He forced Ignis to look at him. "Now you listen to me. I've never met anyone so devoted in my life. Noct would be out on his ass if it wasn't for you. You've gone above and beyond—on many occasions—to ensure his safety and health. You take care of him better than anyone ever could."

"I know, but…"

"No 'buts', Iggy." Gladio traced Ignis' lips with his thumb. "You're the best at what you do, and even if Noct doesn't say it a whole hell of a lot, he appreciates it. He knows you look out for him, even if it irritates him sometimes."

Ignis offered a soft smile. "You amaze me sometimes, Gladio. One would never guess you were harboring such sound emotional wisdom behind all that bravado."

"I'm full of surprises." He leaned over and pressed a quick peck to the dagger-slinger's lips. "You okay now?"

"My stomach has settled. As long as I don't have to actually look at the wound..."

Gladio shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"My doubts are much more in check now, yes." Ignis' eyes twinkled in the fluorescent light of the kitchen.

"Good." Gladio released Ignis' chin and took the ice cube from his hand. He poked at the wound with the tip of the suture needle. "Can you feel that?"

Ignis winced. "Somewhat, but I'll make do."

"You sure?" Gladio didn't like the idea of hurting Ignis any more than he had to.

"Please proceed. I have to prepare dinner before Prompto and Noct return."

"Listen to you…duty always calls, eh?" Gladio shook his head as he chuckled at Ignis' devotion to his work. He took firm hold of Ignis' hand. "It's gonna hurt…a lot. You ready?"

"…as I'll ever be."

"Might wanna turn your head. Watching your own hand get stitched up isn't exactly on the top of everyone's to-do list."

"Thank you for the warning." Ignis took a deep breath and nodded for Gladio to start. He focused his attention on the colorful dishtowels stacked neatly on the countertop.

With careful hands, Gladio pushed the tip of the needle into one side of the gaping cut, pulling the thread taught. Ignis hissed in pain, gritting his teeth. Knowing better than to stop, Gladio pressed on, piercing the other side of the wound with the same efficiency as before. Ignis continued to hold steady, even though his cheeks were beginning to flush. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly through his nostrils.

Again and again, Gladio followed the path of the cut down Ignis' hand, placing expert sutures in a straight line. Several moments later, he tied the last one off and clipped the remaining thread. Five stitches in all, the pattern made a line of black knots down the side of Ignis' palm.

Ignis let out the breath he was holding. "That was…unpleasant."

"Told you it was gonna hurt." Gladio wiped the closed cut with a bit more antiseptic before wrapping a gauze bandage around Ignis' hand. He then brought his palm up and placed a gentle kiss on the fabric over the wound. "All better now, though."

"Indeed." Ignis leaned forward and thanked Gladio properly, pressing his lips to the warrior's own, lingering for a long moment. He finally pulled back when he needed air. "Now, about dinner…I'm going to need assistance seeing as that my hand is incapacitated."

"Me?" Gladio shook his head. "No way."

"Come now, Gladio. It's really not that difficult. All you need to do is chop ingredients." He pointed to his bandaged hand. "As we both can attest to, my knife skills are quite lacking today."

Gladio huffed with a scowl. "Well…as long as I don't have to actually cook anything…"

"I assure you, I will handle that department." Ignis rose from the table, cradling his injured hand close to his stomach. He pointed to a pile of Leiden sweet potatoes. "Peel those, please."

Gladio joined him, a bewildered look on his face. He hesitantly grabbed for a knife and held one of the yams in his hand in confusion. He looked to Ignis for approval, shrugging his shoulders.

"By the Six, are you joking?" Ignis stared at him blankly. It was obvious Gladio did not know his way around a kitchen. The young man sighed and picked up a vegetable peeler. He gently took the knife from his friend and replaced it with the gadget. "Peel with this…not a knife. Otherwise you're asking for trouble." He held up his injured hand as an example.

"Right…" Gladio awkwardly dragged the peeler across the tough skin of the sweet potato, long strips sloughing off and onto the countertop. After a few strokes, he got a rhythm down and began peeling at a faster pace. Soon enough, all the yams had been stripped of their skin and lay ready to be sliced.

"See? You're not a total dunce." Ignis swiped the peels into the garbage with his healthy hand and a wry smirk.

"Who you callin' a dunce?" Gladio picked up the knife and playfully pointed it at his lover, mock-threatening him. "Just watch it, Iggy. Don't force me to sew your mouth shut, too."

"If you do so, however will I be able to kiss you properly?"

"Smart ass…" Gladio picked up a sweet potato. "What do you want me to do with these things?"

"Slice them lengthwise, half an inch thick. We're going to season and bake them."

"Like fries?" Gladio began to run the knife through the yams.

"You could say that. It's healthier than frying them." Ignis motioned for Gladio to throw the slices in a bowl as he worked. He drizzled some olive oil on top, along with a liberal amount of salt and pepper. When they were all coated, he instructed Gladio to dump them on a baking sheet before placing them in the oven.

"That all we're having? You skimpin' out on us?" Gladio punched Ignis in the arm playfully.

"Certainly not. Open the refrigerator and take out the salmon."

"Hey…livin' large tonight, eh? What did I do to deserve you?" Gladio retrieved the package and opened it, laying the filets on a second baking sheet. Ignis said nothing, and seasoned the fish in exactly the same way he had the potato slices. "This goin' in the oven too?"

"Not yet. Be patient." Ignis slid the sheet down the counter and out of the way. "Those snap peas need to be trimmed."

"You sure these aren't beans? 'Cause they look like beans…" Gladio picked up a small basket of green vegetables and eyed them suspiciously. "Noct won't eat 'em if they are, you know."

"I assure you they are not. Break off the stem ends and put them in that bowl."

Gladio obeyed, strong hands gripping the delicate vegetable just a little too hard. The stem, as well as half the pod ripped away from the rest. The warrior grumbled—and Ignis chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Gladio tried again, and failed miserably. He threw the pea pod onto the counter with a huff. "Stupid peas…"

"Allow me to show you." Ignis slid close to Gladio, wrapping his arm around his toned torso. He set his palms atop strong fingers and moved along with his friend. Even with an injured hand, he was able to guide Gladio's fingers carefully. In tandem, Ignis assisted him with the prep, peeling the stems off each one in the basket with ease. He pushed his body close to Gladio, nuzzling his chin into the crook of his neck as they worked.

"Dammit, Iggy…cut it out!" Gladio giggled like a child, something he only reserved for Ignis' company. His cheeks flushed. "You want me to help you, or you want to disappoint Noct and Prompto with no dinner? Because I'm gettin' pretty worked up and won't be of much help soon…"

Ignis immediately ceased his teasing, leaving Gladio breathless. He regretted daring him to stop. Ignis was usually sparing with his spontaneous affections and Gladio knew to take it when he could get it. Their travels with the others left them with little time to themselves, and he cherished any moment they could steal away.

"Suit yourself." Ignis moved back to Gladio's side, a sly smirk just barely crossing his thin lips.

Gladio missed the heat of Ignis' body pressed against his back. He took a few cleansing breaths and tried to think about things that would douse his flames. A few quick flits of his mind about baseball and gutting fish and he was back in business. That didn't mean that he wouldn't make Ignis pay dearly for his crimes—later.

"You're a cocktease."

"The best…" Ignis opened the oven for him, effectively changing the subject. "Salmon, please. Fifteen minutes and it should be done."

"Right…salmon." Gladio slid the sheet into the oven and closed it. He leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms over his chest. "So what now?"

Ignis dropped the trimmed snap peas into a skillet, and they immediately began to sizzle. He pointed to a few cloves of garlic, already pulled from the bulb and peeled. "Chop those."

Gladio obeyed, sliding the cutting board over to Ignis when he was finished. The bespectacled young man brushed the garlic into the pan with his healthy hand and the kitchenette immediately erupted with an intoxicating aroma. A quick sauté and they were finished. Gladio assisted him in pouring them into a small bowl, Ignis' injury preventing him from lifting the skillet efficiently.

"That it?" Gladio looked at the bounty of food on the counter.

"All we have to do is wait for the fish." Ignis busied himself attempting to clean up his workspace.

"Leave that for later, I'll do the dishes after dinner." Gladio moved closer, wrapping his arms around Ignis' lean body. He lightly kissed his neck, relishing in the soft, fading scent of his morning aftershave.

"I hate to leave the kitchen untidy…," Ignis purred as Gladio's hands snaked up his chest.

"You're just going to have to deal with it, Specs…" Gladio turned him around and brought him close to his own body. "There's a good ten minutes left on that salmon, and I intend to make very good use of our time."

Ignis narrowed his eyes seductively and allowed himself to be swept away.

-end-

A/N: That moment when you wake up with a great fic idea…and then it gets out of control from its original form and ends up turning into what you see above. The hurt and angst were planned, the steaminess was…not. This is definitely a straying from my usual content style. I was even thinking of not posting it at all…but a little birdie told me I had to.

Speaking of that little birdie…it would be easy to blame Saber Wing for this fic, but she can attest that all she received was a text proclaiming that things had gone awry. Also, she's an awesome beta.