One Too Many

by Mrfart

You're an unstable film student with commitment issues, and Ignis was the first person you'd ever left a party with who didn't end up sharing your bed. Which was, you realized the more you got to know him, a real shame. (Self indulgent peacetime AU.)

10. Chapter Ten

The set was in full motion. You, as the production designer, skittered across the set from prop to actor to camera. Every little bit was important to make sure everything felt and looked right. As you focused the camera, your phone rang in your pocket. You ignored it the first time, but by the second round of ringing, your crew mates told you to answer it already.

You stepped off set into a corridor —the location today was an office building— and answered your phone with an unenthusiastic, "What's up?"

Expecting Prompto, who'd called earlier to invite you to Noct's, you were pleasantly surprised to hear Ignis on the line.

"I trust you're not getting up to too much trouble today."

Narrowing your eyes at such a greeting, you walked down the empty corridor to get a little further away from the set. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You told everyone, in no uncertain terms, that you were attending an, as you called it 'incredibly wild four twenty blaze it party'." He sighed. "Forgive me for being concerned."

Suddenly remembering what you'd said just days before, you laughed. "I was kidding about that."

"Oh." The line went quiet for a moment. "So you aren't high, then?"

"Just the regular amount."

"Of course. I needn't have expected much else." His voice was flat with a touch of disapproval. Normally, you were annoyed by this, but it came as a bit of a relief, the familiarity of the tone almost comforting.

It had been a week since you'd spent the night with him. You hadn't seen him in person since, but talked as usual through messages. Only in groups with the others, like when Prompto returned from his retreat and spammed everyone with his photos. This was the first time you'd spoken to him privately. You didn't like the way your body responded to his voice involuntarily. You were standing in the middle of an office building, smiling like an idiot, for Astrals' sake.

The distance he'd placed between you had been nice, and you'd appreciated it immensely for a few days, but there had come a point where you'd type out messages meant for Ignis only to erase them because there seemed to be an unspoken agreement to just pretend like nothing happened. Ignis was always busy anyway so you doubted it had been very hard for him to put it out of his mind. You suspected it was only so easy for you because Gladio hadn't bothered you about it. Yet.

"How, uh," you cleared your throat, dialing down the smile. "How've you been, by the way?" You seriously hated niceties, but you wanted to be sure that things weren't going to be unbearable between you.

You'd both known that sleeping with each other would change things, but you were determined not to let the change be a bad one. It could be a funny story you told the others one day… maybe.

There was a pause. "My thoughts have been occupied by the dinner tomorrow."

Yours had, too. A lot, actually. The big break up was happening soon. You and Ignis hadn't coordinated with each other in preparation. At all. Because things had changed.

"It's gonna be great," you said with false excitement. Then you backtracked because you knew that was a lie. "No, it's gonna be weird, but we'll get through it."

He chuckled on the line, and you felt it down to your toes. You'd missed him just a little. "Yes, we will. Have you yet come up with that dramatic one-liner?"

With a smile, you shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "I guess you'll have to wait and see. I actually have a foolproof plan."

He began to speak again, but you pulled the phone from your ear as someone at the end of the corridor called your name. They needed you back on set.

"I've gotta go," you said, making your way back. "No four twenty parties for me. I'm helping with a film today."

"Ah, at least you're merely the regular amount of under the influence."

"Very funny. You're not the only one who's busy and important, y'know."

"I've no doubt you're important to many. Good luck with the production."

You thanked him, hanging up and fighting the warm feeling you felt at his words. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe the friendship wasn't completely ruined. You could only hope.

—

Gladio: so wanna tell me what's up with you and iggy

You: Nope.

Gladio: really because he told me some interesting stuff

You: Oh so he told you we sixtynined each other for like five hours?

You: Then we put things up each other's butts. Big things. Small things. Things that would surprise you.

You: My favorite part was when your dad came over and spanked us for being so naughty.

Gladio: ok that's enough

Gladio: there's no shame in going down on a friend in need

You: So he really did tell you.

Gladio: no details sadly but yeah, i didn't take you for a hair puller

You: Gods kill me now. You just said he didn't give details.

Gladio: he didn't but he kept touching his head and wincing

You: Maybe he got a headache from dealing with you.

Gladio: nah trust me, I know that look on him, he was the same way after we tousled too

Gladio: though I bet I'm rougher

You: What are you talking about?

Gladio: oh I thought he told you we dated in high school

You: I just saw the sappy, borderline pornographic poetry he wrote about you.

Gladio: he still has those? Titan that's great

You: He should be a dirty poet. I only read a few and they were pretty hot.

You: Why aren't you together anymore?

Gladio: sometimes things just end

Gladio: look juicy just tell me your intentions

You: ?

You: You're kidding, right?

Gladio: he's my best friend

Gladio: i won't hesitate to kick your ass, i know you can't hold your own in a fight

You: Spare me. He's a grown man. He can handle one night of casual sex.

You: And I don't fucking appreciate whatever you're implying.

Gladio: ok don't be a dick about it

You: You're the dick.

Gladio: for fucks sake forget i asked

You: I'm sorry. I just don't buy into the whole knight in shining armor/protective big brother thing.

Gladio: i can tell

You: And if it's a jealous ex thing, I don't want any part of it.

Gladio: it's not

You: I do care about Ignis. Just FYI so mind your own business.

Gladio: that's all i wanted to know

You read and reread the conversation as you sat in the tub, relaxing after the long day of filming. Getting so annoyed so quickly wasn't usual for you, but you'd spent the last week preparing for some kind of shit from Gladio. So when he finally said something, you'd already pre-annoyed yourself.

Your main takeaway from it was that Gladio knew and didn't seem inclined to tell the others. Which was fine. The extent of his knowledge was questionable, but he hadn't asked about the courtship so Ignis must've only revealed what he thought was necessary.

You didn't really understand why Ignis had even told him that much. Gladio didn't need to know exactly how you'd gotten down on each other. It didn't make you mad so much as confused. Guys did do that kind of thing, telling each other about their conquests. Even you did that sometimes. But you'd thought Ignis would've been a kiss and take it to the grave kind of person.

Dropping your phone to the bath mat by the tub and sinking down into the hot water, you closed your eyes.

You were in way too deep. Good thing it was almost over.

—

Prompto leaned over a display case of guns. He couldn't afford any of them, some having intricate designs etched into the barrels or grips. You had to admit they were very pretty, however impractical.

"So I've been thinking," he said, looking over at you.

"That's a first." You rolled up the target sheet the range master handed you from across the counter.

"No, seriously, dude." He walked with you to the range, picking up hearing protection on the way. "You've seemed pretty happy since I got back. For someone who didn't… get the internship."

He'd noticed. You'd noticed that he'd noticed, but hadn't said anything because you didn't want to give him details. You weren't going to be as free with information as Ignis had apparently been with Gladio. Completely avoiding the topic would raise suspicion. You had to tread carefully. Then again, it was Prompto. He was one of your favorite people, but damn could he be dense.

"My dry spell isn't so dry anymore," you said, shrugging.

His face lit up in understanding. "Oooohhh."

You'd been using your newfound confusion over sleeping with a friend —it was a completely different experience than the usual one night stand— to block out the disappointment you felt at not being chosen by the Altissian Academy. To an extent, you were still in denial.

"Yeeeaaahhh," you drug out the word to make fun of him. "It was a Boy I met at that club Aranea took me to."

"Cool. Are you gonna see him again?"

That was a common question. With a small snort, you shook your head. "I doubt it."

And that was that. Potential crisis averted.

"Oh my. What are you doing here?"

Looking past Prompto at the unexpected voice, you saw a completely different potential crisis appear. Mirum stood there, reloading a handgun with precise movements.

Prompto turned around, looking between both of you. "Who's that?"

You didn't even try faking a smile, raising a hand unenthusiastically. "Hey, Mirum."

She walked toward you, sharp eyes going to Prompto. "Mister Argentum, I presume?"

"Uh," he waffled. "Yeah, how did you know? I mean, nice to meet you, I-I guess?" He looked to you for help.

You didn't want to get into this. You didn't want to interact with Mirum at all. Not out of any sort of anger at her or her inconsistent behavior, but because you weren't going to be in the right headspace for the breakup that evening if you had to pretend you gave a shit about the one-sided rivalry she wanted to have with you. Introducing them as quickly and casually as possible, you made your way to an open lane and set up your target sheet.

She wasn't going to let you go, apparently. Leaning into your area, she smiled. "I can't wait to see what I'm up against."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

You pulled your hearing protection over your ears, taking a stance you were used to. But your hands shook. You didn't like being watched. Glaring at her over your shoulder, you hissed, "Go away."

She laughed. "That's not very sporting of you, dear."

A succession of shots from the neighboring lane grabbed your attention. You both peered around the barrier once it was over to see Prompto reloading with a big grin. Mirum whistled, and his grin grew wider. He was showing off.

Rolling your eyes, you went back to your business. Hopefully she'd bother Prompto instead now. Your first shot was off the mark, just ripping the edge of the target. Typical. You sighed, making a few more attempts and only getting worse. Your aim always veered off to the side.

Mirum tisked behind you, and you went rigid. "You're gods awful."

Inhaling a slow breath, you turned to her. "Go away, Mirum."

She placed a manicured finger to her chin, ignoring you. "Perhaps you need a little guidance. May I offer some advice?"

Without waiting for an answer, she pointed at your right hand, which held the gun. "I can see you're right handed. Are you left eye dominant, by chance?"

If you hadn't taken the self defense class, you wouldn't have any idea what she was talking about. Iris had made you do a silly exercise to determine which of your eyes was dominant so you could properly swing the practice sword without hitting yourself all the time.

Hesitant to play along with her, you gave her a scrutinizing look before answering. "Yeah, why?"

She snapped her fingers, a smile stretching across her face. "That's your problem, dear. You're shooting as if dominance doesn't matter."

You looked down at the gun in your hand, not really following. "So?"

"So close your right eye when you aim," she said, huffing out a breath. "Really, must I spell it out for you?"

With a scowl, you turned around and followed the advice. One eye closed, arms straight but not locked, you took a shot. And it hit much closer to the bullseye than any you'd ever done before. Mild astonishment filled you, and you looked back at Mirum. "What the fuck."

"Indeed." She smirked, and you thought she looked pretty that way. If only her personality weren't so unattractive and fluctuating.

"I feel so scary powerful right now," you admitted. It was freeing, in a way, to suddenly have a modicum of control over something you never thought you'd grasp. You gave her a wary look. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because," she said, crossing her arms. "I shan't have a romantic rival that doesn't know her arse from her tits about marksmanship."

Part of you wanted to ask what the hell that had to do with anything, least of all romantic rivalries. But a bigger part of you just wanted to practice your newfound accuracy.

You turned away from her and unloaded everything into the target, aiming directly for the heart.

—

"So that was her, huh? The woman who has it for Iggy."

You followed Prompto out of the exit, the late morning sun hitting your eyes. "Yep. How'd you know?"

Prompto gave you a side glance, a slow grin coming to his face. "You guys were pretty much yelling your conversation for everyone to hear."

With a snort, you adjusted the bag strapped over your shoulder. "Oh."

"You didn't tell me you were leaning into it."

You smiled, looking at the ground. The sidewalk was heavily cracked and only got worse the closer you made it to your home neighborhood. "I'm not leaning into it."

"You aren't denying it either," he pointed out.

"Because she ignored me when I denied it before. I'm pretty sure she's just a harmless weirdo so it's not a big deal."

He nodded and tapped his foot on the ground as you stopped to wait for a walk signal. "I wonder why she's being nice if she thinks you're her rival."

You rolled a shrug over your shoulders. "Beats me."

"She's hot, though," he said, scratching the back of his head shyly. "You sure you aren't just flirting?"

You tried jumping from one white line to another across the crosswalk, and a car honked at you for going too slowly. Scrambling to the corner, you huffed out a sigh. "Someone like that, all proper, doesn't really suit someone like me."

An extension of that thought went through your mind left unsaid. An upper class person like that really didn't suit a commoner like you. Not Mirum.

And not Ignis.

—

The morning visit to the shooting range with Prompto had helped your confidence more than you'd anticipated. You planned to meet with Ignis in the Citadel just before dinner. You arrived with determination, a half-empty can of Ebony in hand, and what you thought was a passable breakup plan. You'd told Ignis it was foolproof, but the truth was you hadn't figured much out in the week of near radio silence.

On the elevator up to the appropriate floor, you struck up a conversation with a Crownsguard. You hadn't worn anything spectacular for the dinner so when the man gave you what he seemed to think was a subtle once over, you felt a small well of excitement pool within. School had been so busy the past week —seemingly endless final projects— that you hadn't gotten the chance to put yourself out there again.

"I love Ebony," he said, nodding toward the can in your hand. You'd been nursing it since you left home, needing the caffeine to fuel you through the dinner. The Crownsguard's smile was nice, and when he spoke, he used his hands in gestures that didn't quite match what he said, as if he didn't really know what he was doing. It was cute in an awkward way. "I slam probably five of those a day."

"Wow." You arched your brows, pretending to be impressed. You tapped a finger against the can, taking a drink. When a drop of it caught at the corner of your mouth, you kept eye contact as you licked it from your lip. "I like to take it slow. It's more enjoyable that way."

With a smile, he braced a hand on the railing that lined the elevator, leaning toward you slightly. "I can appreciate that." Now his once over was much less subtle.

The elevator dinged for your floor, and you lamented the end of the flirting. It had been so long, and you were rusty. A little bit of practice in a confined space with a cute guy wasn't so much to ask for. You gave him a smile, wishing the trip had just been a few floors longer.

Ignis had waited just outside the elevators in the residential area, and when the doors opened for you to see him standing there looking far too serious, you hesitated before stepping out to join in him the corridor. He looked disgustingly flawless, you thought. Which was all kinds of weird because he wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary.

"Wait."

The word made you look back, finding the Crownsguard holding his hand out to block the elevator from closing. You slowly faced him in confusion as he stepped out.

"What's your name?"

Taken with small surprise at the man's sudden decision to continue the conversation, you introduced yourself.

"I'm Bombulum," he said. "But my friends call me Bomb."

Oh, you bet they did. That was just the kind of bro name that someone would have being a Crownsguard.

"Nice to meet you, Bomb." As if it were a reflex, you retrieved your phone with a swift movement and held it out to him. "If you wanna share an Ebony sometime."

His smile grew, and as he entered his contact information, you looked over your shoulder to roll your eyes. The gesture was lost, though, when you realized Ignis wasn't paying attention to your situation at all. He was facing a painting, hand on his chin as if in thought. It was probably annoying him that you were wasting time like this.

"I look forward to it," the Crownsguard said, regaining your attention.

"Me, too." Your reply was halfhearted. You watched him get back into the elevator, giving him a small wave as the doors closed.

Now, you thought, to the matter at hand. You and Ignis would have a quick huddle, put on your game faces, and have the best break up ever.

You walked over to him, ready to get started. The hand he'd had at his chin closed into a loose fist as he lowered it and faced you. His brows were drawn, his eyes guarded. Was he seriously mad that you'd wasted one minute of his precious time to ask someone out? It wasn't like you'd meant for it to happen, the guy had followed you out of the elevator.

No. It wasn't going to be like this. Your first meeting post-one night stand was not going to be bad. You refused to let things turn sour already.

"Can you believe that's his name?" You hooked a thumb over your shoulder, pointing toward the elevator. Affecting an accent, you said, "My friends call me Bomb 'cause it's sick as fuck, bro. I love to party, serve the Crown, and slam Ebony all day, erryday." It wasn't working. This kind of nonsense only worked on Prompto, apparently. Ignis' expression eased a little, but what you really wanted, unrealistically, was to see a smile. "I think you have a lot in common with him, Iggy. He could be your soulmate."

He crossed his arms, expression still guarded but less severe. "What are you doing?"

You shrugged. "Making fun of somebody who doesn't deserve it."

His eyes quickly flicked over your face, as if searching. "Why?"

Way to make you feel like an ass. You didn't understand why he would try to make you feel bad about that. It was the most innocent negging, and it wasn't as if the Crownsguard was around to hear it. "I dunno. Because it's fun?"

"That's—" He cut himself off with a sigh. "Apologies. I'm merely disquieted by my current workload."

You chewed on your lip. That's made sense. You shouldn't have been wasting his time; unlike you, he was actually a very important and busy person. "I'm sorry, Iggy."

"Worry not," he said. "I'm more concerned about the dinner, if you could believe it."

You knew exactly what he meant. You'd stressed about it all week. Not talking to him had been a mistake because you didn't feel fully prepared.

"Care to tell me this so-called foolproof plan of yours before we arrive?"

It was like he could read your mind and knew you had very little idea what you were doing.

"Nope." You smiled at him tentatively. "I want your genuine reaction. It'll be more believable."

Mercifully, his expression slowly eased into a stern wariness. "I want to be clear, I will object if your plan is to seduce my uncle—"

"No."

"—pretend you have a deadly illness—"

"Nah."

"—imply that I won't do that thing you enjoy—"

"What?" Your smile grew into a grin at his ridiculousness. "Where are these ideas coming from?"

He rolled a shrug over his shoulders. "I know you well enough by now. I'm merely trying to match your level of absurdity. I want to stop it before the dinner becomes a slapstick nightmare." He uncrossed his arms and checked the time. Giving you a side glance, he began to make his way down the corridor. "Should something horrible befall my uncle, I won't hesitate to blame you."

You scoffed. "If anything horrible happens, it'll happen to me." Meeting his glance with one of your own, you found him gazing at you carefully. "What?"

Looking away, up to the high ceiling, then forward, he took a breath. "I want to thank you."

He let the words hang, though you expected him to elaborate. He just kept walking, slowing whenever you stopped to look at paintings. Some of them were of Noctis at various stages of his life, and you took it upon yourself to take a picture of each one so you could send them to Noctis with commentary on how cute he was as a kid.

The corridors in this part of the Citadel were long and maze like. You'd only been in this part of the palace when you'd stayed in the Amicitia guest room, and nothing looked familiar. It was a city within a city, the Citadel, and you didn't envy people like Ignis who seemed to spend their entire existence within the grand building.

While you typed out baby boy, baby in a picture message to Noct, you asked, "So you gonna tell me what you're thanking me for?"

He motioned for you to get a move on. "This arrangement has been strange, to be sure, and you've handled it with more grace than I'd given you credit."

Looking up from your phone, you frowned a little. He was wrong about that, but he didn't even know it. You'd messed up so many times. You felt like you didn't deserve the praise, so you shoved your phone into your bag and shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

He shook his head as if he'd expected you to say something like that. "I asked something of you that was unreasonable, especially considering how little we knew each other at the time. I'd thought…" He was gathering his thoughts, you realized by the slight movements he made of adjusting his gloves. "I'd thought you unremarkable enough to not draw attention and desperate enough to do it as long as I'd offered something worthwhile."

You gave him a flat look. "Desperate?"

His mouth twitched with a smile. Oh. That was nice. "Only in that you likely would've helped me had I offered you a paid Altissian vacation or something of the like. And I'll be quite honest, I'd expected you to demand compensation of some sort by now."

That hadn't occurred to you. When he'd presented the idea, you'd been so confused by his intentions and excited at having such a Big Secret that you'd only asked for a small favor. You knew you couldn't ask for one now, and even if you did, he wouldn't fulfil it because all you really wanted to know was what the other Big Secret was that the rest of them had without you.

But a paid vacation to Altissia? You couldn't believe you hadn't thought of that. Then again, you'd really been hoping for the internship to take you there, anyway.

Ignis seemed to grow tired of your extended silence. "I merely wanted you thank you for everything. I never anticipated you helping me to this extent or that we would become close."

His words felt emotionally charged, and you didn't want to touch them. But he was right. Somewhere in that serious, pragmatic man, you'd found a good friend. This was what you'd needed to hear from him. It was the tiny bit of reassurance that let you know that things were going to be okay, even if they had changed.

"That makes two of us," you said, slowing to look at another painting. You had to scramble a little to catch up when you realized Ignis wasn't slowing down for you anymore. "It's been… interesting."

"That's a word for it." He nodded, finally slowing a little to match your pace. His legs were too long, his strides too quick. He was in a real hurry to get the breakup over with. You were too, but you didn't want to break a sweat doing it.

—

Uncle Scientia's home was exactly what you expected. The place had ornate walls holding paintings and photos of people who looked similar to but not quite like Ignis and a sense of obsessive compulsive tendencies as everything seemed to be perfectly in its place.

The man himself walked you through a small foyer and into a dining room as he talked about something that fell to the wayside of your attention. Ignis held up the conversation, thankfully, as you looked about with abject curiosity.

The foolproof plan was to exaggerate all of your negative qualities. Really, it was the most ingenious thing you could come up with. You wouldn't consider yourself the kind of person a body would take home to meet their parents.

Breaking Ignis' heart seemed like an impossible task to fake. You couldn't think of what could possibly hurt the man. He was a romantic —the most surprising thing about him so far— but he wasn't emotionally forthright at all. If he were, he would've been able to tell his uncle how he really felt about the pressure to court in the first place.

So, despite his unfortunate infliction of being a romantic, he was pretty emotionally impenetrable.

In the end, you'd decided that you didn't need to pretend to break Ignis' heart. You just had to wear down his uncle's patience. If you acted as uncultured as possible, which wouldn't be hard, you'd give his uncle the assumption that Ignis simply must be in love with you if he put up with you. So when you dumped him, his uncle would think oh, this is devastating for my poor nephew, but good riddance.

Then, he'd have to give Ignis a break, right?

—

As you went through the first course —there were several and you were kind of intimidated— Uncle Scientia smiled gently at you. "I heard tell that you received defensive training recently."

You took a large bite of food and spoke around it, crumbs falling from your mouth. "Yeah, Iris and Gladio trained me."

"That's wonderful. You couldn't ask for a better trainer than from a Shield." He nodded, unaffected by your bad manners. Though, you could practically feel Ignis frowning at you.

"Oh, yeah. I was completely pathetic. I couldn't even learn how to hold the practice sword," you said. "I think Gladio only went along with it because we're both... uh, DTF."

That was enough subtext right? Let him know you're weak and also slutty. You were killing it with the plan. For sure.

Except, apparently, Uncle Scientia didn't understand what you meant. "DTF?"

Ignis sighed next to you.

"It means 'down to…' you know," you supplied, hoping he understood. Sure, it was tactless and juvenile, but it wasn't like you ever planned to come back here.

His uncle's face lit up in understanding. "I see. Down to fight. Gladiolus is a nice young man, but I do imagine he's the type to always be DTF. Your generation has such a fascination with acronyms."

You stared at him for a beat, then looked at Ignis who shook his head slightly. He clearly didn't like this approach. But that was okay, you had a lot of other bad qualities to accentuate. There were as many layersto this plan as there were faults in your personality, which you thought were too numerous to count.

—

The plan was hindered when you became distracted by Uncle Scientia telling you a story about Ignis sneaking Noctis out of the Citadel when they were younger. You listened and laughed, sending Ignis a surprised look. Would it be weird if you stuck around to hear more stories or look at pictures of him as a kid or other typical meeting-the-parents type of nonsense before dumping him? You bet he'd been a cute kid. Probably serious and polite to a fault.

When you realized where your train of thought was going, that you were actually enjoying the dinner, you felt a bit of the wind leave your sails. None of your ideas were going to work, no matter how many layers your plan had. You'd just have to do it, just hand Ignis the compact in front of his uncle. It was as much for yourself as it was for him.

Ignis had promised you wouldn't be under any obligation to follow courtship practices, and officially meeting his uncle was a big box being checked off. You hadn't signed up for this.

—

While you waited to be served dessert, you dipped into your bag for the compact. You were going to find an opportune moment and get it over with. Then you'd leave the Citadel, hopefully never to return unless legally obligated, and you could just be normal friends with Ignis instead of the lying pair of liars that you actually were.

The compact wasn't there. You shook your bag a little as if it were hiding, but it didn't magically appear. Then, you looked up at Ignis.

"Um," you whispered. "We have a problem."

He looked at you, saying nothing but raising a brow in question.

"I left the compact at home." You could envision where it was sitting on your kitchen table. You'd left it there next to your apartment keys specifically so you wouldn't forget it on your way out. The irony of it made you sigh.

"You're not serious," he said, voice low. Agitated lines formed on his face. "Tell me that's a poor joke."

You shook your head, expression becoming apologetic. You'd gotten a little high in preparation before coming to the Citadel, and you must've forgotten it in your haze. You'd been more concerned about the Ebony at the time. "Can't we come up with an alternative for now, and I'll give it back to you later?"

"How do you propose that?" Ignis whispered, brows furrowing. "It's not as if I carry courtship tokens with me like lucky baubles."

Uncle Scientia seemed to be in his own world, talking with someone from the Citadel's kitchen staff who'd brought up the food. He'd yet to probe you with overly personal questions like you'd expected and had taken every odd interaction with a grain of salt, as if he'd been around far too long to be bothered by your attempts at wearing out his patience. Your sidebar with Ignis was halted when he turned to both of you with a kind smile you were beginning to realize was just his resting expression.

"Ignis has told me of your aspirations to direct." Uncle Scientia was a well of patience, it seemed, unbothered by your heated whispers. "I can't say I know much about film, but it seems an honorable profession."

You tucked into the dessert without reservation, giving Ignis' uncle an openly scrutinizing look. There wasn't much honorable about the entertainment industry, you thought. It wasn't like you were a Glaive or anyone who actually helped the world.

"Thanks, but I doubt I'll make it very far. I'd have to actually have talent." You were a little caught off guard at learning that Ignis had shared something personal about you with his uncle. You'd been under the impression that he told his uncle nothing beyond the original lie. With a side glance at Ignis, you thought he seemed so suspect suddenly. "I never told you I wanted to be a director."

After a second of surprise that you were addressing him, Ignis straightened in his seat. "It wasn't difficult to surmise. You only appear happy when you direct." His fingers found his fork, and he cut a corner of his dessert. Before taking the bite, he looked at you. "You have a knack for bossing people about."

You scoffed, feeling a little insulted. "You're one to talk, dude. You have an inability to let people do what they want if you think it isn't the right way to do something."

Ignis pursed his lips, grip on his fork tightening imperceptibly. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. It is," you said lamely, taking another bite of food. It was delicious, but you couldn't appreciate it fully because of the budding irritation you felt at the man next to you.

—

You both followed Ignis' uncle to the parlor after dinner. It sounded boring, but when he offered to pour you a drink, you were suddenly all for it. You took the small glass of cognac with a grateful smile. You needed this.

Tipping it back, drinking it faster than you probably should've, you caught Ignis frowning. He was still upset at you. So you'd messed up and forgot the token; you'd figure something out! You closed your eyes, feeling the burn of it go down. You were going to fix this. You just needed a little bit of liquid courage first.

Uncle Scientia seemed ready to say something when someone poked their head into the room.

"Sir, the files on the western islands are in. You wanted someone to get you when th—" The visitor looked at you, then Ignis. "Oh, Lord Ignis. This might interest—"

"No, no, don't bother Ignis when he has company." Uncle Scientia excused himself, walking just out the door to speak to them privately.

You peered into your cup and drank what was left. Looking around the room, you found yourself looking at Ignis. Despite the books, the odd little statues everywhere, and the piano that sat in a corner, he was the most interesting thing in the room. Catching the glint of the tiny golden chain that held his pocket watch in place, you were struck with an idea.

"Give me your pocket watch," you told him in whispers, putting your glass down on a nearby table. "Take off the chain, and I'll pretend it's the compact."

Looking down at you, he frowned. "That won't work."

"It will," you argued. You held out a hand, but he made no move to comply. "I'll just hold onto it for a minute and then break off the courtship when your uncle comes back inside."

He shook his head. "He'll notice that it's not your token."

Giving him a flat look, you said, "He thinks DTF means down to fight."

His expression eased, as if he were considering your argument for a moment. Then he shook his head again. "How could you forget what is undeniably the most important—"

"Just give me the watch." You we're running out of patience.

His brows arched over his glasses, the edges of his mouth forming a careful frown. "I won't."

You scowled at him. He hadn't appreciated a single thing you'd done since the visit had begun. He'd sent you annoyed looks the entire time to make sure you knew how much he hated every part of your half-assed plan. He was the tactician here so why he couldn't have just come up with an idea himself was well beyond you.

If he was leaving all of the work for you, the very least he could do was play along. You waved your hand out at him, palm up expectantly. "I'm trying to help you. Give me the watch."

"No." He was digging his heels in on pure stubbornness at this point.

You took a step toward him and gripped his jacket with both hands, quietly hissing, "Give it to me, Ignis."

His eyes widened, green bearing down on you in soft surprise. You weren't fucking around. You were going to end this today so he could get rid of you just like he wanted.

The clearing of a throat made you jerk away. When you faced Ignis' uncle, you smiled sheepishly, a small blush forming on your face.

"I truly apologize, but I have to cut the evening short. There is a matter I must attend to," Uncle Scientia said. "If you wish to stay for a bit longer, you are welcome."

Ignis took your hand and bowed slightly. "Thank you, but I think we will be going shortly."

You resisted the urge to tear your hand away.

Uncle Scientia smiled at you. "It was a pleasure to officially meet you." Then he left you there with good tidings, striding down the hall with purpose. Much like Ignis had on the way there.

As soon as he was out of sight, you pulled your hand out of Ignis' and returned to scowling at him. "Great. Now we've done the total opposite of what we came here to do."

He returned the look, his frown sharp. "Who's fault might that be?"

You threw your hands up. "I forget stuff! You know that about me! You're so inflexible, y'know that?"

"You stated as much at dinner. Was that your plan all along, to insult me?"

"Is it even an insult if I'm right? You refused to even try my idea because it wasn't the proper way! He wouldn't have known the difference!"

He pushed up his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't yell. Someone may overhear."

With a sigh, you lowered your arms and crossed them. You weren't mad at him or even at the situation. His unwillingness bothered you, but it was your own fault for not bringing the one thing you needed for this to work. That was a recurring theme so far in this farce, accidentally letting people in on it and never having the token when you actually needed it. Why had he ever thought you were a good choice to play this part?

He was probably regretting everything. No wonder he'd been in such a rush on the way there. He wanted to get rid of you that badly.

You looked at him with a heavy frown. He'd just complimented you earlier on handling things so well, and here you were already proving him wrong. "I'm sorry. I know you're tired of the courtship, and I'm sorry I ruined it."

He seemed surprised at your apology, straightening his glasses before shaking his head. "It's my own fault for not following through on the promise of having it ended today."

You looked away, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Why was he apologizing? You didn't get him. His expressions were easy to read, but it was like being able to read a word without knowing its meaning.

"Do we have to break up in front of your uncle?" The idea seemed silly and awkward, but you remembered Ignis stressing the fact that he needed to witness it to make it most believable. It was all very convoluted, and you could hardly keep up at this point. "I can just give the token to you next time I see you. Then we won't have to put up with each other anymore."

He didn't respond, and the silence stretched for so long that you had to look at him.

His eyes were cast away from you, the thrum of his voice low. "If only it were so simple."

"I don't think," you sighed, feeling a heavy weight in your chest. Friend fights always hit you hard. Probably because you had so few friends. And you were pretty sure you were about to lose this one. "I don't think it'll be hard convincing your uncle since you spent most of the dinner glaring at me."

He looked at you, eyes meeting yours. "I don't know what sort of plan you seemed to be employing, but I didn't enjoy being around the person you pretended to be tonight."

"Oh, wow, big surprise." You rolled your eyes. "You hate my bad manners. Guess you shouldn't have asked a commoner to be your fake fucking girlfriend."

"That's not the issue." He shook his head. "Insulting me was off-putting enough. The disparaging remarks you made about yourself were far worse. Had I known that was your plan, I'd have come up with something myself."

"Then why didn't you?" You were close to yelling again, and you didn't give a damn. "If you want me out of your life so bad, you should've helped me come up with an actual plan instead of ignoring me for a week!"

Your anger was met with confusion. His eyes widened, brows arching over his glasses. "Why do you think that?"

A frown curled at your lips. "I know you've been ignoring me because of what we did. I can't—"

"No." His eyes searched your face. "Why do you think I want you out of my life?"

You looked away, touching the lip of your empty glass. The bottom of it hit against the wooden tabletop with a clink as you tilted it and let go. "Seemed pretty determined to get rid of me today. Until you refused to help me."

He sighed, and you looked at him again. It was difficult keeping eye contact. What if he saw how much this was bothering you? You hated that. You hated everything about this.

"I've held you in an uncomfortable position for long enough. I only wished to have it done with for your sake."

"It's not like I didn't want to be here. I said we were in this together." You shook your head again, still not understanding where he was coming from, but calming down slightly in the face of his confusion. It was markedly better than anger.

"It isn't your burden." His insistence was gentle but firm. "I shouldn't have forced you into this position."

You blinked, giving him an incredulous look. "You aren't forcing me."

His eyes narrowed slightly, considering you cautiously. "Is that not how you see it?"

You met his gaze, and this time you held it. "Ignis, you can't make me do anything."

His brows drew together, and he looked away, his confusion only seeming to grow.

You were just telling the truth. You'd come here willingly to help him; that's why it was so frustrating that he wasn't helping you help him. It was no wonder he'd thought you expected compensation. Apparently, he felt like you were being held hostage.

For maybe a few minutes of the dinner when you'd asked Ignis' uncle about his job, you might've felt like a hostage having to hear about the boring details. Otherwise, you'd never considered this something you had to do. You were just the kind of person who liked to keep their promises. Even to uptight nobles who didn't appreciate it, like Ignis.

"I want you in my life."

The quiet statement pulled you from your thoughts. Ignis had picked up your empty glass, filling it with the cognac. His lidded eyes flicked to you as he took a drink.

Words failing you at first, you watched the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He wanted you around. You felt a strong sense of relief veil your anxiety over nearly losing your friend. "I want, um— right. I want that, too."

He winced a little at the aftertaste, closing his eyes for a moment as he capped the decanter. "We will try this again with a more refined plan."

Your nod went unnoticed. "Sounds good. I won't mess up next time."

He shook his head. "Never mind that you forgot the compact. I shouldn't have reacted he way I had." He looked down at the glass, pushing it away before looking at you again. "But I'll not tolerate any more of your self deprecation."

His use of words irked you. Tolerate. It made you want to spend the rest of your life dedicated to doing nothing but belittling yourself at his expense.

"What did I just say?" You crossed your arms. "You're not my boss, Ignis."

He actually smiled at that. It was brief but charming, a glimmer of teeth as he conceded. "I suppose I was due for a reminder on that front."

Taken with his smile, you chewed on your lip, rolling on your feet from heel to toe. "So we'll regroup and try again?"

With a nod, he made for the door. "We should get going."

—

The walk back was silent as you passed by the same large paintings of Noctis that you'd seen earlier. You remembered the messages you'd sent Noct on the way there and checked your phone to see if he ever responded.

Noctis: why are you in that part of the citadel?

Frowning, you held back a sigh and looked over at Ignis. You were just messing up left and right. Inhaling deeply, you searched for an excuse to give Noctis.

Nothing came to mind. You couldn't stop feeling bothered at how much Ignis was actually telling people. You felt like you were losing what little control you had in this arrangement. This line of suspicion, at the very least, you could probably stamp down on before it became anything.

You: It's none of your business, Noct. :)

Noctis: ok cool

Wow. That was... impossibly easy. You hadn't thought he'd let it go like that, but Noct had never come off as pushy so you weren't sure what else you could've expected.

He may be a contender as your new best friend.

—

On the main floor, just beyond the elevators, you turned to Ignis to part ways, but the goodbye wasn't forthcoming. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, unsure of what you were about to say.

"I want that favor."

He looked at you with mild interest, wary almost. "Is that so?"

You nodded. "Nothing major. Just one request. I think I deserve it since this courtship is being extended." By your own causing, but still.

Ignis eyed you, wariness giving out to curiosity. "What favor do you need?"

Need? You didn't need anything from him, but you wanted a lot.

"Let me flirt with you again." It was flippant, but you really meant it. "I have so many things to say to you. I've been keeping count of every flirty comment that's plagued me since we were in Galdin."

A month of holding yourself back. Ignis had to acknowledge this as a legitimate request, right? Part of yourself was naturally flirty, and you really had to suppress that when it came to him. Then again, he'd been upset with you for the better part of the evening and probably wouldn't be inclined to do you any favors, least of all one that would upset him even more.

In a surprising gesture, he looked down, hiding the barest of smiles. When he met your eyes, he'd controlled his features into a neutrality and said, "If that is what you want, I suppose I could handle it once per day."

That was too strict, but you couldn't say you were surprised. "Okay, I'll take it, but it shouldn't count if you make it too easy."

He arched a brow. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged. "If you bend over in front of me, I'm probably gonna tell you your butt looks nice, and you can't fault me for that so it shouldn't count."

His mouth twitched with a near smile. "That sounds fair."

You nodded, enjoying every little indication he was sending your way. "Great." As he checked the time, you began to back away, offering a small wave that he didn't return. He'd wasted enough time with you already, and was probably itching to get back to his busy life upstairs. "Guess I'll see you later."

"Yes, take care."

Several steps away, you turned back, raising your voice above the din of the busy floor. "Oh, actually, I had one last question."

He sent an expectant look your way.

A slow grin grew along your face. "Would you consider yourself a cutie with a great booty or a hottie with a perfect body? Because I think you're both."

One of the guards standing by the elevators chuckled, and you waved at him again, enjoying the light blush that dusted Ignis' serious face.

If he was only letting you get one flirt in a day, you were going to make it count. And damn were you rusty.

—

When it came to photography, Prompto had the timing down just right. In everything else, he needed a little help. Which is why you weren't that surprised when he suddenly sighed and turned to you in distress as you bought an eighth of weed from a vendor. It smelled like your favorite flavor of ice cream and your curiosity was piqued over that alone.

"It's my fault, right?"

You looked up from smelling the stuff. "What?"

He only went to pop up events like this with you because he didn't like the idea of you going alone. The last time you'd done that, you'd gotten high with one of the suppliers, gotten kicked out of the venue for fighting with a cardboard standee, and lost one of your shoes on the walk home. You didn't mind the company because this particular lowkey event was packed with people, and you were just trying to get what you wanted and leave as quickly as possible.

Prompto touched one of the patches on his vest, finger pulling at the threads that held it in place. "The movie," he said, squishing against a wall as someone pushed past him. The place was way too crowded. "I didn't get the right angles. And— and the lighting was off because I—"

"No." You shook your head, putting the purchase in your bag before grabbing his wrist. "Come on, dude."

"But we just got here." He let you pull him through the crowds.

The event was held in a large, empty apartment. It had only been set up hours before and would be gone by morning. The laws in Insomnia over weed were vague so what you were doing wasn't technically a crime. Still, you knew it made Prompto all kinds of nervous. He always left the venue paranoid over being questioned by any police that might catch you leaving. His nervousness seemed to be overpowered by his distress this time, big blue eyes that were usually scanning the area were boring into you.

You left through the back entrance, walked down a narrow alley and came out onto the sidewalk of an adjoining street. Letting go of Prompto's hand, you looked at him. "It's not your fault."

Sighing, he crossed his arms, but it looked more like he was hugging himself. "It totally is. I'm sorry. I'll make sure you get it next year."

The distressed look on his face hurt your heart. He shouldn't blame himself, but of course he did. Prompto was like that. You chewed on your lip, shaking your head again. "Don't say things like that. You did a great job, okay?"

In this instance, your win would've been his win, and your rejection must have hit him harder than he'd let on before. He dropped his arms and looked away, shaking his head. "Nah, I could've—"

"They didn't pick me," you said, voice louder than you intended. It made him look at you. "It fucking sucks, but it's not your fault so stop."

He blinked, then gave you a smile, small but warm. "Okay."

You nodded, relief filling you at the sight of his smile. "Good. Now let's go back to my place, burn through some of this, and come up with an even better film idea to submit next year."

Not often did he join you in getting high, but you could tell he really needed it today. He bumped your shoulder with his as he fell into step next to you, his smile giving away to something more genuine.

—

Ignis: I've had your dress dry cleaned. When's best to have it sent to you?

You stared at the message, feeling a small bit of guilt. His Crownsguard lounge suit was piled on your bedroom floor, still dirty. You'd worn them twice since then, doing homework and laying around in them. They were comfy!

You: You didn't have to do that.

Ignis: And yet I did.

You: Are you going to Noct's tomorrow night?

Ignis: I'll make an appearance if I have time.

You: Just come! Meet me outside and give me the dress before we go in. I can just say I picked up my dry cleaning on the way over or something.

You: I can't give you the sweatsuit back though.

Ignis: Why is that?

You: Craziest thing, my apartment flooded and it washed away. Oh well.

Ignis: If you wish to keep it just say so.

You: Thanks, I think I need it now. Everything else feels like sandpaper against my delicate skin.

You: Be careful not to seduce me again because you'll be out of a wardrobe real quick. ;)

Hitting send before you realized how flirty you were actually being, you smacked your forehead with a hand. Fuck. Way to make it weird. He was a friend, you reminded yourself. Things were never going to improve if you didn't tone it down. Plus, you didn't want to waste your one flirt on that.

Ignis: I have plenty to spare.

You didn't know what to do with that. Plenty to spare because he wanted to spend another night with you? Or because he was just overloaded with Crownsguard sweatsuits? You decided it didn't matter because there wasn't going to be a next time with him. There really shouldn't even have been a first time.

You: So I'll see you at Noct's?

Ignis: I'll be there.

—

Buried between rows of books deep within the library on campus, you flipped through one book before slamming it shut and moving on to another. Techniques of film, the importance of mise en scene, blah blah blah.

You couldn't focus because you had an idea for a screenplay that burned to be written. It was really vague and didn't have any sort of resolution so you'd held off on writing it. You had made a promise to yourself that you'd not begin something you didn't plan to finish. Most of your projects went abandoned all the time, at various stages.

You didn't want to backtrack on your vow, but it was becoming too hard to concentrate on homework with the idea bouncing around in your head. Opening your laptop, you sighed and gave in. Much like other things currently happening in your life, you'd just get it out of your system and completely forget about it.

—

Three hours in, your friendly librarian Craigory pushed a cart past your hiding place and stopped to give you a questioning look.

"I'm either writing a masterpiece or complete trash," you said, typing even as you looked up at him.

He nodded in understanding, then pointed at the books.

"You can take them. They're useless to me now."

He picked them up, adding them to the cart and peering at your laptop screen. You moved it out of his field of vision, practically hissing.

"Stop being so damn nosy."

He lifted his hands in defense, and you sighed.

"Sorry, I have a lot going on."

He nodded again, pushing the cart away.

You leaned out of the aisle, quietly calling, "Thanks, Craigory."

He gave you a thumbs up and disappeared around a corner. He was, hands down, the best listener you'd ever met. Back to writing, you blinked your tired eyes against the brightness of the screen. You needed an Ebony, stat.

—

The courtship token Ignis had given you was definitely cursed. Other than Ignis, you hadn't so much as kissed another person since the fake courtship had begun. That in itself was depressing, but it was only multiplied by the fact that you hadn't gotten the internship. It was sinking in that you weren't good enough for Altissia yet, that your dream wasn't nearly as close as you'd thought.

You found yourself opening and closing the messages on your phone, wondering idly if it would be okay to just… call him up.

Ignis was wasn't like other Boys, but you had an itch that you desperately wanted him to scratch again, if only to distract you from your depressed thoughts concerning the internship and your life, in general. So you opened your messages and typed something out. Something not too forward, otherwise you got the feeling he'd be turned off. It was definitely wordier than your usual come over texts to past booty calls.

You sent it, biting down on the bit of anxiety that welled in you over it. Gladio had said there wasn't shame in it since you were just a friend in need…

You: You might be interested in coming over tonight. I have an Ebony with your name on it.

It wasn't until moments later that you realized your mistake. Your most recent conversation with Ignis had been in a group with the other guys.

Prompto: ew

Noctis: what?

You: Ignore it! I'm sorry!

Prompto: tbh this is tame 4 a bootycall frum u

You: Shut up!

Gladio: so your new squeeze likes coffee huh?

Squeeze? You frowned at the sentence. He was being so obvious.

You: Lots of people like coffee. I like coffee.

Ignis: What's not to like?

You stared at the message, embarrassment stinging at you. Ignis was acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. He had to realize it was meant for him.

Prompto: ya idk y u like it so much its gross D:

Gladio: this is almost unbearable lol

Gladio: let us know how it goes when you send it to the right person ;)

Noctis: nah I'd rather not know

You: Good because this has been humiliating.

Gladio: does that mean you're leaving Noct's early tonight to get laid?

Prompto: ya its suppos all nite hang :( will u srsly ditch us 4 sum boy?

You: Just forget you ever saw it!

Gladio: wanna tell us anything about this guy, do we know him?

The master of subtly, Gladio Amicitia.

You: Yeah, it's your dad.

You sighed, sending a bunch of eggplant emojis before leaving the conversation. It had been a bad idea from the start. You had hoped Ignis could give you a ride home after leaving Noct's, and that things could happen from there. But now you were embarrassed and just wanted to forget you'd even entertained the idea.

Your friendship with Ignis was still recovering from your tryst and the dinner. He wanted you in his life, but you doubted he'd meant it as a person you called on to distract you from life's problems with sex.

—

You waited outside Noct's apartment, dicking around on your phone, being sure to stand somewhere that couldn't be seen from his balcony. You were there for fifteen minutes before Gladio showed up.

"Iggy's gonna be late." He opened the door and looked back at you expectantly.

"So? I'm not waiting for him or anything." You followed him in to strengthen the lie. Ignis could've mentioned he wasn't going to be there to meet you and hand over your dress.

"You waiting for me then?"

With a roll of your eyes, you scoffed. "For sure. I was so desperate to get you alone before seeing the others."

Together, you got into an elevator that climbed up to Noct's floor. "Oh, yeah?"

You shifted the paper bag you had in an arm, lifting the neck of a wine bottle from inside. Buying the wine had been a last minute decision when you'd remembered that Noct didn't have any alcohol. And you'd found the most alcoholic wine you could get your hands on. "How drunk do I have to get you before you'll dance with me?"

He chuckled, leading you into Noct's place. "Let's find out."

—

The answer was very drunk. Noctis turned off the video game he'd been playing with Prompto to put on some music because it had been entertaining at first. Then, he'd gotten out his own stash of alcohol, something that had you grumbling about not knowing where his drink cabinet was this entire time.

By eight drinks, you had Gladio voguing with you while Noctis covered his face with his hands and Prompto recorded it all. You'd matched Gladio drink for drink and felt like you could just die.

You were incredibly thankful that no one brought up the earlier situation concerning the booty call. These guys were the best friends you could ever ask for, and you let them know that in your drunken state, touching the stubble on Gladio's face and pinching Prompto's cheeks while Noctis expertly avoided your prodding. But wait. Where was the fourth one?

"Where's Ignis?" You weren't asking anyone in particular.

"He's trapped at the Citadel," Noctis said, sitting next to you on the sofa. He leaned back, closing his eyes. "He probably won't make it."

You gave him a questioning look, turning it over to Gladio when you realized the prince wasn't paying attention.

"A noblewoman publicly announced her interest in him," Gladio laughed. "He's been stuck in his office, trying to avoid a confrontation."

Prompto gasped and smiled, pointing at you. "I bet it's her."

You nodded. "Dude, yes! It's definitely her."

Gladio looked between you.

"Was it the marchioness?" you asked, reaching for your glass. There was a few more sips left in the bottom, and you weren't going to waste them. "I bet it was the fucking marchioness."

"Yeah," Gladio said, looking surprised. "How'd you know that?"

"I know her. We're acquaintances. Kinda." You drank what was left in your cup. "She even told me about how they met. She's crazy about him."

Gladio stared at you in confusion for a long moment, and Prompto nodded, though he had no idea what you were talking about. You were all just a bit drunk. Maybe you more than the rest; your stomach was roiling.

In fact.

You shot up, quickly stumbling to the kitchen and throwing up into the sink. A hand patted your back as you remained hunched over just in case more decided to expel. Gladio said something, but your ears rang and your eyes blurred with tears. Minutes later, you were lifted like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. Somewhere on the way to Noct's room, you drifted off.

—

Waking abruptly with the terrible sensation of falling, you rolled over and sat up. A small headache, slight shakes rocking your body, and a dry mouth. You'd just gotten off the sleep train right into Hangover Junction. Gazing around, you tried to take in as much as you could and let your eyes adjust as your mind caught up with everything.

You were in a bed, that much was clear. Your feet under the blanket touched the body of someone sprawled across the lower half of the bed. Lifting the blanket, you saw Noct's dark hair. The familiar sight was a relief, anchoring you to reality. You nudged his head with a foot, and he grumbled, curling in on himself.

The door opened, startling you into dropping the blanket. You wondered if this was a dream because Ignis came in carrying a bottle of water. He seemed startled himself to see you awake.

"Usually when I dream about you, the prince isn't in the bed with me," you joked, your voice scratchy.

Ignis stopped by the bed, handing you the bottle of water. His hair was disheveled, eyes looking tired. The sleeves of his button down were rolled to his elbows. Your hands trembled trying to take off the cap on the bottle. Without prompting, he did it for you and handed it back.

"Must you be so overindulgent?"

You rolled your eyes as you drank the water. Of course the first thing out of his mouth had to be a reprimand. He couldn't just say something nice to ease your pain. You wanted to ask him why he never sent a message or anything about not coming to Noct's, but you didn't want him to know that you even cared.

"Did you finally show up just to fuss?" You leaned back against the headboard. When he made to leave, you grabbed his hand. "Wait. I wanna talk."

"What about?" He sounded just as worn as he looked.

You pulled him by the hand. "Sit with me. I heard Mirum proposed or some shit."

He sighed, but acquiesced, removing his hand from yours and rounding the bed to settle next to you against the headboard. "So Gladio told you."

"Yeah, but I already knew she liked you." Another drink of water, much longer, and he brought up a hand to stop you from guzzling it down.

"Slowly now. You'll just make yourself sick." He took the bottle from you. "How did you know she fancied me?"

You pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, shivers coursing over your body. Not that you were cold, but the blanket was a comfort all the same. "She told me. The time I visited your office. And at the nightclub."

"You knew this entire time?"

You rolled your head against the headboard to face him. "Yeah. I'm sorry, but I didn't really wanna get involved." His expression remained exhausted. You wanted to touch his face, to ease the signs of stress. Instead, you twisted the blanket between your hands and kept talking. "I think it's kinda brave, I guess, that she announced her intentions. Especially since she thinks we're courting. Audentes fortuna iuvat. Y'know, fortune favors the bold?"

"I'm familiar," he said, letting you take the water bottle from him. "Fortune isn't the only thing to favor the bold."

Another sip and you asked, "What does that even mean?" Your head ached, and you were so tired, but this was such a pressing thought to you.

"Making one's intentions known…" He ran a hand through his hair. "It invites disappointment, confusion, and mild terror."

His expression said everything; he'd hidden in his office to avoid Mirum, even late into the evening, because he felt all of those things? You knew he was adverse to beginning an actual courtship anytime soon, but the fact that he found it terrifying that someone had genuine interest in him was just a little hilarious.

"Isn't that what makes it so great?" You put the nearly empty bottle of water on Noct's nightstand, and looked at Ignis with interest. You were fighting sleep despite the juiciness of the conversation and needed to keep eye contact so you had a reason to keep your eyes open at all.

He blinked. "How so?"

You inhaled deeply. "Liking somebody is kinda like a punishment, and sometimes making a move is the only way out. If they don't share your feelings it's a disappointment but also kind of a relief?" You leaned your head back, a soft thud against the headboard. "Like you'll listen to sad music for a while, but you'll get over it eventually."

Ignis didn't seem to be grasping your explanation. "And if the feelings are shared?"

That was an interesting response. Maybe Ignis could be pushed into moving his fake courtship business over to Mirum if he liked her back. She would definitely do a better job than you had so far. For some reason, the thought didn't sit well within you. Probably because you'd hidden the truth from him for so long, even going so far as to sleep with him while knowing she liked him. But now you could make things right.

"Then you're totally confused and terrified, like you said." You smiled at him softly. "But she's with you, like… in it. You're not alone anymore."

He only looked at you, not saying anything for so long that your eyes began to droop. A gentle squeeze of his hand on yours made you open them again to see his troubled expression. "I'm uncertain as to what to do."

"My unsolicited opinion, full stop, is to go for it," you said, squeezing his hand in return. "She's petty and weird, but you're kinda weird, too. And she's in love with you."

"I don't share the feeling," he said, a quick response that had your eyes focusing on him, a bit more alert. "I can't imagine being in love right now."

"Well, shit." You sighed, an unexplained sense of relief filling you. "What are you gonna do about it, then?" You let go of his hand to elbow him, but there was no force behind it. "Huh, stud? Because she wants you super bad."

He looked down at his gloved hands, fingers splaying and then curling in swift movements. "She's invited me to her coming out ball this coming weekend. If I were to go, it would be seen as an acceptance of her affection."

"Then don't," you said flatly. If he didn't like her back, he shouldn't get her hopes up. And he shouldn't… Your head pounded at the thought of him going there to do whatever the hell nobles did at balls. You didn't want him to… You were too tired to think about this. "Don't go."

He nodded slightly. "My thoughts exactly." Long fingers adjusted a glove, his gaze still avoiding yours. "Unless… if I were to arrive with you at my side—"

"No," you cut him off. A frown pulled at the corners of your mouth. "That would be kinda vicious. Isn't she your friend?" Honestly, he shouldn't be considering something so mean. You didn't particularly like Mirum, but she was still a person with feelings. Plus, the idea of going to a ball sounded boring as all hell. "Think about how you'd feel if you were in love and told everyone, and then that person showed up to your party with someone else."

He sighed. "You're right."

"I know," you said, your tone curt. Slowly, your eyes were drooping again, and this time, you weren't even fighting it. With a yawn, you patted around, finding his hand again. "I'll help you get out of it, I promise. Let's just get some rest for now. You look like garbage."

You slid over, head resting on his shoulder. He was such a solid presence next to you. It made you feel safe without feeling small.

"You are ever the treasure." His voice was softer, though his tone was purposefully drab. "Someone who drank themself sick calling me rubbish."

"Mmm," you hummed, his comments falling on sleepy ears. Rest came easily, filled with dreams where Noctis hadn't been in the bed with you, and the conversation had taken a decidedly different turn.

—

Tumbling out of Noct's bed, you stretched. A familiar ache bit at your head. You moved the blankets around so Noct, who still slept soundly, would eventually be hit by the sliver of sunlight that was ever so slowly traveling down the bed.

With heavy steps, you left the bedroom. An incredible smell had you walking directly to the kitchen where Ignis was chopping this and mincing that.

"G'morning," you mumbled, sitting on a stool and watching him with sleepy interest.

"Morning." He looked up from his ministrations, a small smile on his face.

You looked at all of the things he had going on. Multitasking must've been second nature to him. "Breakfast party?"

Returning his gaze to the veggie he was chopping, he said, "Not so much a party as it is necessary for everyone in order to recover from your tawdry night."

While you looked around, he grabbed something from the fridge and handed it to you. Coconut water. You frowned, not so much a fan. But you knew it was good for hangovers, and it didn't taste that bad.

"Thanks." You took a sip, and asked, "Where's Prom and Gladio?"

"I've sent them to the corner store." He dropped the veggies into a pan with eggs. You supposed he was making some kind of omelet. "They were each complaining of a terrible headache, for which Noct has no medicine. They should be back momentarily."

You nodded. "Good. My head feels like it's gonna explode or melt or something else just as bad."

Ignis kept at it, and you wondered if he was okay himself. He'd stayed up late to take care of you, and presumably the others, yet here he was in the morning, extending that kindness in such a gesture. The hollows his eyes were a little dark, and his hair wasn't as perky as usual. It was cute, unkempt and swept back like the laziest almost pompadour you'd ever seen.

Getting down from the stool, you rounded the counter and stood at the edge of the kitchen. "Let me help."

He looked up from a pan, a careful frown on his face. "Forgive me, but you'll only be in the way."

"No, I won't," you insisted. "I know a thing or two. Just give me a job."

He looked at you for a beat before nodding. "Very well. Come here."

Going to his side, you listened as he explained what he needed you to do. Which was to make toast. You rolled your eyes but set to work without complaint. Your head did hurt like hell so it wasn't like you were up to cooking anything intricate.

Two slices in, Ignis said, "Do you suppose this is still fresh? Noct has had it for some time."

He was holding a jar filled with honey. A honeycomb sat inside, slowly floating around the thick liquid. He'd opened it, and peered inside. Thinking the only option for testing it was pretty obvious, you reached up and dipped a finger in, drawing out a string of honey.

Ignis didn't seem amused. You ignored him, popping your finger into your mouth to taste if it was off. You didn't think honey really expired, but this stuff might've been special for all you knew.

"I can't tell. It tastes a little fruity," you said, smacking your lips. "Here, you try."

You reached for more, but he held it out of reach. "No more of that," he reprimanded, twisting the lid back on and placing the jar down. "I'll trust that it's alright since you aren't immediately disgusted by the taste."

Turning around with a shrug, you switched out the bread for more, piling toast onto a plate. Ignis was no fun. You'd wanted him to sexily suck honey from your fingers. Maybe it was for the best. You really shouldn't have been pursuing thoughts like that about him.

"I found myself surprised to see you still here last evening," he said over the sound of the frying pan.

You took a secret bite out of a piece of toast, making sure he wasn't looking. "Why?"

He hummed as if he were thinking. "I'd thought you had plans to meet with that Bombulum fellow."

Your mind was drawing a blank. "Who?"

He sent you a confused look. "The Crownsguard you met the other day. Your... casual inquiry for company yesterday?"

It took a moment, but once your aching brain really chugged, you pieced it together. "That, that was actually, um..." Your eyes widened. If he really didn't realize the booty call had been for him, you weren't going to embarrass yourself further by admitting it. "No, no booty call for me. Friends are more fun, anyway."

His green eyes widened, face easing into mild surprise. With a small nod, he returned his attention to cooking.

Good. Yet another crisis averted.

You went back to the very important Toast Duty, focusing on that until you felt him bump against your back. You smiled when you turned around to face him, determined to avoid any further awkward moments. "Oops, I guess I am in the way aft—"

He'd bumped into you on purpose, hands finding the counter on each side of you as he leaned down. He didn't hesitate, pressing his mouth to yours and gently moving his lips, coercing yours open with soft pressure. You lifted on your toes, kissing back with a gentle force. The ever present taste of coffee along with a mild staleness hit your tongue as he opened himself up for you.

You imagined your morning breath was terrible, but the hand he brought to your waist told you he didn't mind. The moment you reached a hand up to his chest, he broke the contact, drawing back to look at you.

"The honey does have a fruity flavor," he murmured. "A tad sour. Citrus, I'd say."

You blinked, dropping back to the flats of your feet as he let go of you. "Right."

He returned to cooking again as if kissing you had just been another part of his morning routine. Toast production halted as you stepped toward him, eyeing the food he was making.

A tight feeling curled in your chest. Indignation, you thought. You'd beaten yourself up over almost calling him up, but he couldn't care less about what lines he crossed, apparently. "Was that another point-making kiss, or am I missing something?"

He lifted a pan, sliding its contents onto a plate. "For someone who enjoys the act so greatly, you're sorely mistaken over the nature of flirtation."

As he prepared another, breaking eggs and mixing in veggies and spices, you stood in place and tried to make sense of him. He'd been throwing you so many curve balls, you could barely keep up.

Finally, when he glanced at you with a small smirk, you found your voice. "W-what?"

He tilted the pan to even the burn on the dish before turning to you. "You treat it merely as a means to an end, but it's more than that," he said, using his free hand to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. "It's a dance."

The feeling in your chest tightened uncomfortably. His touch was searing, and you didn't like it. Knocking his hand away, you turned around and began shoving pieces of bread into the toaster as if you were force-feeding it. The ambient cooking sounds accompanied by the quiet thud of Ignis' feet told you he'd went back to task. Good.

Noct's front door opened just in time to distract your tumultuous mind, Prompto trudging in with complaints about the brightness of the sun while Gladio grunted intermittently. You took a painkiller when it was offered, drinking the rest of the coconut water with mild chagrin. When you looked at Ignis again, he was frowning, attention on the last serving he was currently cooking.

"Just so you know," you said, voice quiet. "That was your one flirt of the day."

His frown eased, and he peered down at you gently. "One is all I need."

You swallowed thickly, pinned by the gaze.

"What are you guys talking about?" Prompto asked as he sat on a stool, facing you both.

Ignis turned away and began to serve the dishes, placing one in front of Prompto. "How well we were able to hide vegetables in the food this morning. Noct will never suspect." He wiped his hands on the apron tied at his waist. "I suppose I should wake him now."

You watched him walk down the hall and disappear into Noct's room. He was able to switch himself between faces so easily. Like an actor. Like a politician. You felt a twinge of something at being the only person who got to experience sides of him he clearly didn't let others see.

—

The screenplay you'd created from nothing sat unfinished in your hard drive. Like you'd told Craigory, you couldn't decide if it was a masterpiece or trash. You were leaning toward the latter because if you'd learned anything from the Academy's rejection, it was that you still had a lot of growing to do as an artist.

You'd written three different endings for it, one of which had been done with Prompto's help when you'd gotten terribly high, but none of them seemed right. Bogged down by the thought that you'd wasted hours of your life writing something that no one would ever see, you lounged around your apartment in Ignis' sweats and threw yourself a pity party.

Then you remembered that you had a blog.

So, you posted the screenplay sans ending, and hoped that at least one person read the thing and got it. You didn't even care if every production company in Lucis saw it and thought it was terrible. As long as someone read it and understood why an ending seemed impossible.

—

You were sowing the seeds of a lie. Because lying was your thing these days. At least when it came to Ignis.

You: Great news, I need help this weekend.

You: I have to take a Conversational Altissian class and I need a fluent partner.

Ignis: That is convenient.

A long smile spread across you face. This fool! You didn't need help in Altissian. Language was one of the few things your mind comprehended fairly easily, and you sat at the top of your class in Altissian without rival.

What you really wanted to invite him to was a poetry class on campus that was open to the public. You wanted to see just what kind of raw slams he could throw down at a moment's notice, but you knew he'd never go for that.

You: Yes. I thought it could get two birds with one stone. No coming out ball for you, and I'd get to improve my language skills.

Ignis: Is it an all day affair?

It wasn't. The poetry class was only until lunch, but he didn't need to know that…

You: Of course! I wouldn't have invited you otherwise.

You: Haha! I would never waste your time on something that didn't help you! Silly Ignis!

Ignis: Are you alright?

You: Yes. :)

You: Pick me up at 8 am on Saturday?

Ignis: See you then.

You: Yes. :) :) Be ready with your best and most romantic thoughts.

Ignis: What is that meant to mean?

You: Altissian is a romance language, Iggy.

Ignis: I'll keep it tame for the sake of the course.

You: Don't worry about that. Get as down and dirty as you want. :) :) :)

Ignis: Your abuse of smiley faces is concerning.

You: :) See :) you :) Saturday :)

—

Fresh from a shower and determined to get your friend to open up this secret side of himself, you strode into your kitchen Saturday morning to scrounge up a last minute breakfast before leaving for the poetry class. Your phone rang once, going ignored when you saw that it was Mom. She never called, for good reason, and you weren't really in the mood to find out what she would complain about this time.

The second time was shorter, and you waited until you were completely done with your breakfast before checking to see what could've been so urgent. A message sat in your inbox from Mom when you finally did check.

Bokeh died last night.

The simple statement made you freeze. Not your chocobo. Ignis' face appeared on your phone's screen, and you answered with a light, forced laugh.

"H-hey," you stuttered, no longer feeling any sort of pull to seem genuinely excited about the poetry class. "I can't make it. I'm sorry. Bokeh died and I— I have to go home. Right now."

You rushed to your room, your phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder. On the line, Ignis let out a breath. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, sure," you said, throwing clothes into a small suitcase. Whatever. You just needed to buy the soonest bus ticket home. "Sorry I can't help you today, but this is important, Ignis, I have—"

"Let me drive you home," he interrupted. "I'm only a block away right now. I'll stop just long enough for you to get in and take you directly there."

"I dunno." You struggled against the zipper of your suitcase. "I can take the bus."

"Please." He sounded resolute already, and you knew you'd have an argument on your hands. There was no time for that. You wanted to rush home now to prove to yourself that Bokeh was actually just fine, and Mom was just a jerk with the worst sense of humor in the world. Ignis' voice broke you from the train of thought. "Allow me to drive you. It would be quicker than the bus. I don't mind in the least."

Looking out your window, you spotted him parked along the sidewalk, his black car standing out against the rundown street. "Okay, I'm coming down."

You practically threw your suitcase down the stairs without a second thought and shoved it into his car before climbing in. "Thanks, Ignis."

He nodded. "Just lead the way."