[ Anything. Just like always; Noct must know by now when Ignis uses absolutes he means them. If he pushed hard enough - or at all - he'd probably have Ignis concocting some insane excuse for the others about how he had to take his shirt off so as not to stain it with grease. Thankfully Noct seems to be content with totally undoing his very tidy appearance, for the moment; it's not as if Ignis is actually moved to complain at all about this, fingertips tracing heat shimmers across his skin. To be so moved by so small a thing is patently absurd, and yet he feels it all the way down, reciprocal shivers spreading out from everywhere Noct puts his hands.
Ignis is, perhaps, a little more cautious than he needs to be when it comes to Noct; part of that is ingrained, a reflection of their entire lives together, but the rest ...when would he have had the time, let alone the desire, to seek out this kind of intimacy anywhere else? It's a strange, floaty feeling not to be the guiding hand here when so much is so new, as if a dam is broken by that encouraging sound; he definitely can't miss it, considering amidst the rush of kissing he can as much feel as hear it, low murmur reverberating over his own lips and tongue. ]
Anything. [ the conformation scrapes sandpapery with fractured breathing and just a gloss of rueful humor, at least he recognizes how hopeless he is.
He seems to lose a little of the constant control he keeps on himself at that, like saying it makes it true; Noctis' hair is going to be more than a little mussed now, with both of Ignis's hands curling through it, winding soft black between his fingers. Not quite tugging, but close, like the explorative brush of his teeth earlier. Reverence and roughness measured alongside one another, soft bites sharper now. Let it never be said he's anything but stellar at taking cues, please. ]
... i don't have a remotely appropriate icon for this tag
Ignis is, perhaps, a little more cautious than he needs to be when it comes to Noct; part of that is ingrained, a reflection of their entire lives together, but the rest ...when would he have had the time, let alone the desire, to seek out this kind of intimacy anywhere else? It's a strange, floaty feeling not to be the guiding hand here when so much is so new, as if a dam is broken by that encouraging sound; he definitely can't miss it, considering amidst the rush of kissing he can as much feel as hear it, low murmur reverberating over his own lips and tongue. ]
Anything. [ the conformation scrapes sandpapery with fractured breathing and just a gloss of rueful humor, at least he recognizes how hopeless he is.
He seems to lose a little of the constant control he keeps on himself at that, like saying it makes it true; Noctis' hair is going to be more than a little mussed now, with both of Ignis's hands curling through it, winding soft black between his fingers. Not quite tugging, but close, like the explorative brush of his teeth earlier. Reverence and roughness measured alongside one another, soft bites sharper now. Let it never be said he's anything but stellar at taking cues, please. ]