A/N: It's been awhile, I know. I just haven't been in the state of mind to write. But without further ado: Fluff. Mindless fluffity fluff.


It was too warm to get away with curling up to Ignis at night. Noct missed the winter months. The headaches had been waking him in the middle of the night since last summer, but on those cold nights he had slept soundly until morning. He studied the angular lines of his advisor's face in the darkness. Ignis slept on his back with one hand on his chest, routine even in sleep. The only time he had broken this routine was when he would pull Noctis against his chest to keep the prince warm. Noct sighed. He wanted to believe Ignis missed it, too, but his advisor wasn't soft like he was. He dared to put a hand on Iggy's arm, left bare by the tank top he slept in, and traced the lines of the muscles pressed taut against his skin. He missed falling asleep in those arms.

It had to be an ungodly hour of the morning, as it always was when the visions awoke him to the feeling of his head splitting open. He a thump and looked over his shoulder. In the darkness it was hard to make out details, but he could tell from where pale skin met tan that Prompto had adhered himself to Gladio. There was a shock of blond hair fanned out on Gladio's shoulder, and the bigger man's hand seemed to have gone instinctively to the back of Prompto's head, keeping him close. Noct's stomach twisted. He averted his eyes from them again, trying not to envy their easy comfort with each other.

"You should sleep."

There was almost a Noctis shaped hole in the tent where he jumped out of his skin. Ignis was staring at him, hands folded under his head, stretching the ribbed cotton of his shirt across his chest. Noct thanked the Six for the darkness that kept Ignis from seeing the color rising to his face. One pull and that worn out tank top would rip right down the middle, revealing the broad shoulders as they tapered down to a slim waist and...yeah. Iggy was right. He needed to sleep.

"I can't," he whispered back.

"The headaches are getting worse, aren't they?"

He didn't say anything. It was better than lying to Ignis, and easier than admitting that he, the one they were all fighting to protect, couldn't handle something as small as a headache. He could just hear Gladio yelling at him to buck up and remember that migraines were the least of the trials he would face in the effort to reclaim Insomnia. Worse, he could see Ignis sticking up for him, protecting him like always.

"Come here."

Ignis said it so quietly that Noctis could have believed he imagined it, but there was a hand reaching for him, fingers curling in a beckoning motion. His heart stuttered as he slid closer to Ignis. Rather than turning on to his side, Ignis remained on his back and pulled Noct's head on to his shoulder. Noctis blamed exhaustion for the way he turned his face into Iggy's neck to inhale his scent. He sighed in contentment. With any luck, Ignis wouldn't remember these few waking minutes in which Noctis smothered him with sleepy affection. That would be great.

"Cinnamon rolls," he murmured.

"Pardon?"

He threw a leg over Ignis and grinned. "Smelling you makes me want cinnamon rolls."

"Noct."

"Hm?"

"Go to sleep."

He couldn't have stayed awake much longer anyway. The tension was melting out of his body at last, and Ignis was rubbing the most wonderful circles on his back. His rest was painless and peaceful. He didn't awake in the dark with the visions still flashing behind his eyes, like retina burn. He didn't even think he dreamed. The only thing he knew was sleep and the distant sound of his advisor's heartbeat, reminding him that Ignis had him, and he was safe.

((()))

Morning came too soon. He stretched, expecting to be alone in the tent as he was always the last to rise, but this was not the case. There was still a warm person next to him. He opened his eyes. Ignis was sound asleep, one half of his face covered by hair that wasn't held up by product. Noct's mouth went dry. They were both on their sides facing each other and so close that Noctis could feel every exhalation warm his skin. He gave way to impulse, reaching out to stroke those high cheekbones with his thumb. His heart did a weird sort of flip-flop. Ignis was always pristine and put together by the time Noct woke up, but now he was nothing of the sort.

Godsdamn, he was beautiful.

"Morning," Ignis said, voice thick with sleep.

Noctis jerked his hand back. "Hey."

Ignis caught his retreating hand by the wrist, his grasp firm but gentle. "You're up early."

"Actually, you're up late. Prompto and Gladio are already gone somewhere."

Iggy's eyes opened in surprise at this. Only one was visible and Noct couldn't resist the urge to brush away the hair blocking the other. Ignis' hair was soft and warm. Now both emerald green eyes stared back at him, close enough for Noct to see the streaks of gold in them. He noticed Ignis was still holding his wrist. Though his advisor's body was the most relaxed Noct had ever seen it, there was a quiet tension between them.

"What's up?" he asked when he couldn't stand that forlorn stare any longer.

"I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

Ignis let go of his wrist. "Our relationship has been growing more informal lately, and it seems to have been making you feel uncomfortable. Forgive me."

Noctis hoped Ignis didn't take his silence as confirmation of these fears, but he couldn't talk and fathom his advisor's stupidity at the same time. All the awkward moments, the hesitant touches, Ignis had chalked up to him being uncomfortable? Because reasons, that's why. He didn't remember taking Ignis' face in his hands. If he could recall that, he might have been able to pinpoint when he decided, with finality, to commit friendship suicide. All he knew was that one moment Ignis was watching him with concern and the next his eyes closed instinctively. They closed because Noct kissed him.

He had barely tasted Ignis before he was pulling away. His heart raced not with anxiety at first but with overwhelming joy, a sense of completion. Then reality caught up with him. Ignis was slow to open his eyes and when he did, there were too many emotions in them for Noctis to determine how screwed he was. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Explanations bubbled up in his throat, each one sounding worse than the last.

"Highness..."

Ignis' voice was soft and almost reverent. He gave Noct the slightest push on to his back and leaned over him, chest rising and falling much faster than it had been when he woke up. Indecision raged on his face. Noctis couldn't stand that look of conflict for long. He pulled Ignis down to him and kissed him deeply, hoping for all the world he wouldn't be pushed away, that this dream wouldn't come to a grinding halt. Ignis opened his mouth and fantasy converged with reality. He supported himself on one elbow, his other hand framing the side of Noct's face with such tenderness that Noct's chest ached.

He didn't know when it started. Maybe it was as long ago as the first time Ignis grasped his hand, helping him out of his bedroom window when they would sneak out of the palace. Maybe it was when the car broke down. He wasn't sure, but there seemed to be a lifetime of desire unleashed into their kiss. Soft touches became more desperate. The hand he rested on his advisor's chest clenched into his shirt, Ignis' hand on the side of his face wove into his hair. They broke apart for air and leant their foreheads together.

"Ignis," he breathed, unsure what he was asking with that single word.

His advisor didn't seem to know, either, but in a gravelly voice he answered, "Noct."