[ noctis breathes ignis's laugh in, knowing it's for him and him only. he can almost convince himself it tastes sweet.
his head tilts a little into ignis's touch, more than pleased to take priority over glasses and spatulas and absolutely everything else that ignis looks after so diligently. but really, he shouldn't be surprised. he has grown up being the one thing ignis keeps and cares for and loves above all other things, so he shouldn't complain either. especially now that that love comes in this form, with ignis touching him with a kind of frightening reverence and a steady concentration that only he could manage even as they bicker about prompto and breakfast continues to cook in the background.
still, there is a prickle of perfectly rational (in his own opinion) annoyance at the assumed threat of stopping this—or, at the very least, briefly pausing it—in favor of avoiding dishing out charcoal once the others return. he bumps his nose against ignis's in a tiny show of frustration that could be easily mistaken for a gesture of messy affection if not for the accompanying grumble. ]
It's just eggs. [ maybe if bacon were on the line, noctis would feel more strongly about the disastrous consequences of kissing ignis too much, but then again, maybe not. imagine his satisfaction when ignis's hand disappears only to be followed up by the soft click of the stove's dial ticking down.
it's funny ignis should think of cats in relation to noctis. funny as in completely understandable, as noctis releases his grip on ignis's hand so he can stretch out his arms behind ignis's head like a feline woken from a warm nap in the sun before letting his elbows bend, draping his arms across ignis's shoulders. encircled like this, ignis doesn't have much chance of going far, but noctis doubts he has interest in being anywhere but here. he sighs when the kisses trail off from his mouth, but it's far from disappointment. ]
Hm. [ he's playing the game, smiling, bemused, against ignis's cheek ] You tell me.
[ he lets one of his hands slide down ignis's back so he might scratch idly at a shoulder blade while he wonders whether or not the fold-out table would support his weight if ignis were to lift him up and let him make a seat of it. shortly after he wonders how many photos prompto will actually want to take, but he waves that thought away; it's far less interesting than the first. ]
no subject
his head tilts a little into ignis's touch, more than pleased to take priority over glasses and spatulas and absolutely everything else that ignis looks after so diligently. but really, he shouldn't be surprised. he has grown up being the one thing ignis keeps and cares for and loves above all other things, so he shouldn't complain either. especially now that that love comes in this form, with ignis touching him with a kind of frightening reverence and a steady concentration that only he could manage even as they bicker about prompto and breakfast continues to cook in the background.
still, there is a prickle of perfectly rational (in his own opinion) annoyance at the assumed threat of stopping this—or, at the very least, briefly pausing it—in favor of avoiding dishing out charcoal once the others return. he bumps his nose against ignis's in a tiny show of frustration that could be easily mistaken for a gesture of messy affection if not for the accompanying grumble. ]
It's just eggs. [ maybe if bacon were on the line, noctis would feel more strongly about the disastrous consequences of kissing ignis too much, but then again, maybe not. imagine his satisfaction when ignis's hand disappears only to be followed up by the soft click of the stove's dial ticking down.
it's funny ignis should think of cats in relation to noctis. funny as in completely understandable, as noctis releases his grip on ignis's hand so he can stretch out his arms behind ignis's head like a feline woken from a warm nap in the sun before letting his elbows bend, draping his arms across ignis's shoulders. encircled like this, ignis doesn't have much chance of going far, but noctis doubts he has interest in being anywhere but here. he sighs when the kisses trail off from his mouth, but it's far from disappointment. ]
Hm. [ he's playing the game, smiling, bemused, against ignis's cheek ] You tell me.
[ he lets one of his hands slide down ignis's back so he might scratch idly at a shoulder blade while he wonders whether or not the fold-out table would support his weight if ignis were to lift him up and let him make a seat of it. shortly after he wonders how many photos prompto will actually want to take, but he waves that thought away; it's far less interesting than the first. ]