Chapter Text
After weighing out the consequences, Gladio did not say anything.
If he cleared up the misunderstanding with Ignis, it meant crushing the poor guy’s feelings, which would only strain their working relationship, as well as their budding friendship.
The latter made Gladio's heart sink more.
Would Ignis have been just as open to learning about Gladio and telling Gladio about himself, if he had accepted Gladio’s invitation as a mere request to hang out?
He can't deny he much preferred their relationship now. Ignis was friendlier, he acknowledged Gladio around the Citadel more often, even breaking away from routine for a brief chat. And then there were the touches, Ignis brushing lint of his shoulder, the light pat on his forearm in acknowledgement, all which tugged Gladio's stomach in various directions.
Since their mistaken date, Ignis was no longer the image of cold confidence he tended to carry himself in, and any silences between them now were accompanied by Ignis’s self-conscious fidgeting and coy glances, not a disgusted wrinkle of his nose should Gladio even dare to breathe in his direction. And that didn't make sense either. For the better part of their adolescence, it always seemed like Ignis was impartial to him on his best days, and detested him on his worst days.
Wouldn’t you only agree to go on a date with someone if you were—
Y’know, like—
Maybe even a bit—
“Gladio!” someone called out from Gladio’s side, as he exited the training halls. He didn’t normally stay this late in the evening, but there was no better cure for a harried mind than vigorous exercise.
Turning to follow the voice, he spotted Ignis from the other end of the hall, one arm clutching a briefcase, the other waving at him. Speak of the devil.
"Are you heading home?" asked Ignis with a small smile, his cheeks once again tinged pink.
"Yeah, I'm all done here. What about you?"
"Just a couple more things to take care of before I decide to wrap up for the day."
"Good," Gladio noted the late hour on his watch and he squeezed Ignis's shoulder, "You need to acknowledge your limits more often,"
Ignis flinched under his touch, his ears glowing bright red.
All those lectures from Clarus about Gladio’s casual touching, how he could be encroaching on people’s personal space, how he was giving nobles’ daughters the “wrong idea” came flooding back, and he pulled his hand away.
"Listen Gladiolus," asked Ignis, "I need to ask you something."
Gladio shrugged, "Shoot."
Ignis ran his hand through his fringe, and though the strands dropped back and landed on his forehead, some of it stuck up, but he hadn’t seemed to notice as he cast his gaze to Gladio’s side.
It was kind of endearing.
"Do you have some time to spare this weekend?" asked Ignis,
"I should, yeah, why?"
Ignis pursed his lips and brought both hands to grip his briefcase across his chest.
"Would you"—Ignis cleared his throat—"Did you want to—"
"Yeah?"
Ignis took a deep breath and said in one rapid stream, "Would you like to go out with me this weekend?"
Now Gladio found himself in Ignis’s position, with only one point of differentiation, that Ignis knew what he was asking Gladio out to. If Ignis had thought that Gladio asked him out on a date, and Ignis said yes, pretty eagerly in fact, then that meant one thing. At the very least, it meant something.
If Gladio were to say yes now, then that would also mean something. To keep this going as a ruse could preserve Ignis’s feelings, but Gladio would also be leading him on, thus prolonging the young man’s inevitable heartbreak.
He looked down at the man in front of him.
Between their first date-not-date and now, Gladio had probably seen Ignis’s entire face in all shades of red in the spectrum. He remembered the soft warm hand that he covered with his, bright green eyes now cast to the ground, and an unfettered smile that lit up the dark street that one chilly autumn evening, now drawn in a thin line that did his full lips no justice.
Gladio’s throat withered up.
If Gladio said yes now, what exactly was he agreeing to?
"Yeah sure," Gladio adjusted his bag, "I'd love to."
With so many thoughts and feelings fighting for room in his head, and Ignis’s smile slowly spreading wide on his face, Gladio couldn’t figure that out now, but just for that moment, Gladio couldn’t care less.
In a conclusion that would come as a surprise to absolutely no one on Eos, there were subtle nuances between going on a date where both parties were aware that they were on a date, and one where the other party hadn’t the faintest idea.
For one thing, between the two of them, Gladio was the bigger mess. He fumbled with their movie tickets, with their popcorn, with his words, with the slender hand that he held in his sweaty palms.
Ignis chose the movie this time. It was a psychological thriller, carrying on the theme from their last movie, but this one had substance , Ignis explained. There were less jump scares, and more downplayed theatrics, but the number of times they squeezed each other's hands would have been no different, maybe even more than last time had anyone been accurately counting.
Nonetheless, one scene did cause Gladio to jump out of his seat and yell, and again, Ignis flashed him a smug smile from across their arm rests.
Only this time, Gladio completely missed what Ignis’s jibe was, his fear all but forgotten as he sat there, his attention transfixed entirely on the curve of Ignis’s lips as they moved around his words.
Dinner after the movie were warm savoury crepes from the food truck next to Gladio’s favourite kebab stand. Afterwards, in a bold move that made Gladio’s face overheat, Ignis laced their fingers together and he pulled him down a strip of stores and into a bookstore tucked away in a back alleyway.
Unlike last time, Ignis stayed awake during their train trip, and they talked and rifled through the books they purchased in their shared paper bag. One passenger glared at their sound of laughter. Gladio apologised on their behalf and exchanged a bemused glance with Ignis. Nevertheless, Ignis hushed his voice to prevent any further disturbance, and it pulled Gladio in closer and deeper.
Just like last time, they said good night at the foot of the stairs to Ignis’s front doorstep, and Gladio’s cheeks almost ached, having never laughed and smiled so much with another person in the space of a few hours in so long.
Unlike last time, Gladio made the move to hug Ignis first, slinging his arms under his, and lifting him off the ground despite Ignis’s soft yelp, before Ignis’s arms stretching around his wide shoulders washed over him with a confusing warmth.
And unlike last time, when Ignis leaned up to place a soft kiss on his cheek, Gladio angled his cheek downwards, ready to meet him.
The following week, Gladio opened his mouth and said something.
In the sense that by definition, to “ask” someone something involved the very act of “saying something with an inflection at the end to obtain an answer.”
Gladio drifted from one day to another, his thoughts often trailing away, back to the memory of Ignis's melodic laughter and their colourful conversations, but almost always coming back to warm lips against his cheek, soft like the petals from the carnations he and Iris always kept by their mother's portrait on the fireplace.
Everyday he continued to see more of Ignis around the Citadel, but there was something else puzzling about his behaviour.
“I’ll see you around then Gladio?” Ignis had said earlier that morning, as he had mornings prior, always framed like a question, before he placed a hand on Gladio’s chest and a peck to his cheek. Then he had drawn back, paused and gazed up expectantly, like he was waiting for a response, while Gladio stared dumbfounded at his mouth.
I should kiss him back next time .
A solid weight lightly thumped against the top of his head. Gladio blinked up at Cor, then up at the training sword the older man held above his head, and then at recruit who stood beside him.
“Where’s your head at boy?” said Cor, and he gestured at his fellow recruit, “It’s your turn to strike your opponent.”
It’s… my turn?
“Nowhere,” Gladio stammered, “Head’s all here, has been all day, no doubt about it.”
Ignis was waiting for Gladio’s turn.
An hour later, he walked into the training hall change rooms, battered and bruised from Cor and his fellow recruit’s beating, but thankful for the new perspective Cor had inadvertently given him on the issue.
But if Gladio were to ask Ignis out, after Ignis had asked him out, which was after Ignis had assumed that Gladio had asked him out then that would mean—
Gladio groaned and slapped his hands against his face in front of the change room mirror.
Turning his head to the side, he ran two fingers along one cheek, where a pair of lips, almost red from the cold, had been hot against his cheek.
It needn't be so complicated, when one thing was simple, salient and certain.
If Gladio were to ask Ignis out, he could feel those lips again.
And so as soon as Gladio arrived home that evening, he pulled up Ignis's number on his phone and he said something.
That is, Gladio asked Ignis out on a date.
Their next date, third if Gladio started counting from their first date-not-date, second if Gladio considered both parties to be aware as a prerequisite for a date, was a mere week later, and was as good as their last. When the evening came to an end, they walked hand in hand all the way up the stairs and directly in front of Ignis’s uncle’s doorstep.
Disappointment settled in Gladio's chest as Ignis slid his fingers out of his.
But it didn’t last long, as Ignis wrapped his arms around Gladio's wide torso in a hug, and Gladio hugged back around his shoulders, relishing in the warmth sweeping through him that he had been seeking all week.
The tumult within his heart was not given the time to cease as Ignis pulled back and asked, his voice slow and careful, "Can I kiss you Gladio?"
"What's this all of a sudden?" Gladio grinned, "You already asked me the first time."
"I’m just..." Ignis glanced down at his feet and then back into Gladio's eyes, “Just in case you've changed your mind.”
"Nope, the answer's still yes," said Gladio with a chuckle, "Blanket permission, you can kiss me anytime."
With a smug grin, Gladio pointed his cheek down towards Ignis, and Ignis placed his hands on Gladio’s shoulders. But to his puzzlement, Ignis's face drew closer to his, close enough for Gladio to count the moles beside his mouth, and instead of the soft warm sensation on his cheek that he had come to expect, it instead bloomed against Gladio's lips.
Gladio's eyes widened and he bounced back a step. Ignis drew back and his face twisted in concern.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Gladio looked down at his hand, which he hadn’t realised had drifted over his mouth.
"Was that too forward of me?" Ignis pressed further,
"No, no it was good! I just—" said Gladio, his cheeks filled with heat. When was the last time someone made him blush? "I just wasn't expecting it."
Ignis's shoulders relaxed and his concern was replaced with an amused smile and a glint in his eye.
“I don’t think I’ve seen your face that red before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” said Gladio, rubbing the back of his head, as his racing heartbeat thumped through his ribs.
“I’m hoping it won’t be the last,”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Gladio said with a humph,
"Good night then Gladio," said Ignis with a tinkling laugh that gave Gladio a view of a flash of brilliant white teeth, “I’ll see you around the Citadel.”
"Wait Iggy, hang on a sec,"
He held Ignis by the wrist, and Ignis turned to meet him with a quirked brow. Before Ignis could say anything, Gladio leaned down and pressed his lips against Ignis's.
Now it was Ignis’s turn to blush and to hold his mouth, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
They made for a ridiculous sight. Two boys frozen in front of a doorstep in the cold, their faces redder than the leaves of the surrounding trees.
"Should've asked for permission first huh?" asked Gladio,
Ignis smiled and bowed his head, and slowly moved his hand back to his side, "You could ask now."
"Blanket permission?"
Ignis closed the distance between their faces again. He angled his face up towards Gladio and paused just before he met Gladio's mouth, "Blanket permission."
It certainly had been a month of firsts.
For one thing, it was the first time that Gladio had ever found himself swept off his feet. Most people he dated left the onus on him to make them fluster.
But now Gladio’s found himself blushing shades he never knew he was capable of with every one of Ignis’s parting kisses on his lips after lunch, Ignis’s smile sly as he pulled the brim of Gladio's cap down over a flabbergasted face before he walked away.
They scheduled more dates, more reasons to see each other throughout the week with less time in-between. With strapped schedules an evening on a weekday was the only one that worked—after work for Ignis, after the gym for Gladio—at a small restaurant that would’ve toed the line of fast food a bit too close for Ignis, but it had protein and that was good enough for Gladio. And if the sauce that got left on the corner of Gladio's mouth drew Ignis closer to him to wipe it off with a napkin more often, close enough for Gladio to kiss Ignis, that was an added bonus.
Ignis’s expression of pure shock? Also a bonus.
The ball was then back in Ignis’s court. They both had a class one day a week that started at the same time, and Ignis suggested, breakfast together would be lovely wouldn’t it?
Gladio did have to wake up earlier to make it to the café near their campus on time—for this class, Gladio's breakfast would normally be a protein shake and a banana—but hey, Gladio started the morning with a full belly, his heart light with the taste of several coffee-flavoured kisses exchanged on the car ride to class, and the image of Ignis’s bright smiling green eyes to get him through the day.
A week later Gladio asked Ignis out, then Ignis asked to catch up a mere few days after, and so on, until Gladio had lost count of their dates, the number of books they exchanged, the number of kisses Ignis would dare sneak in the Citadel’s hallways or Gladio would steal from Ignis until the very last moment on his uncle's doorstep while he fumbled with the lock on his door, or the number of times he’d slip his hand in Gladio’s to move from one secluded point of a Citadel corridor to another together, or the number of messages it took before Gladio ran his hand through his hair in frustration and crossed into the territory of late night hushed phone calls just to hear Ignis’s voice one last time before the day ended.
Before, Gladio could count on one hand how times Ignis would give him a strained and polite purse of his lips that passed as a smile a month. Now Ignis revealed a myriad of hidden expressions that Gladio had lost count of, and surely the bright smiles Ignis flashed Gladio day to day that made his stomach backlip every time now clocked in in the thousands.
And it was even more difficult to keep track of the times Gladio had to actively to keep his hands above Ignis’s waist whenever he hugged him goodbye or hold himself back from deepening their kisses, or the number of times Ignis himself was his last thought before he slept, filling his dreams of images of a pale figure under him and of legs that went forever tangled around his waist. Gladio was certainly not counting those.
This was definitely no longer about Gladio chasing the same bonds his father had with companions.
His father’s stories never spoke about a racing heart nor a deep longing in one's chest until they saw the other again. In actual fact, they did, but they were the iterations of his father's stories that included his mother, not members of the King's inner circle.
What added to his confusion was that amidst the warm bubble that surrounded Gladio after every waking moment he spent with Ignis, there was always a sinking feeling of guilt that Gladio couldn't figure out, like a lump of lead that took residence in his gut since their one-sided first date, just until Ignis could make him forget about it again.
“I heard from Regis that you and Scientia are getting on well,” said Clarus one morning at the breakfast table, his eyes poring over the paper in his hands,
“Yeah,” Gladio swallowed a hard gulp of orange juice, “You could say that.”
“What’re you up to on Friday evening?” asked Ignis, one evening from the passenger seat of Gladio’s car.
“Normally just dinner with Dad and Iris,” said Gladio, his eyes trained on the road as any responsible driver should. It was a shame that Gladio couldn't watch him as they talked, but freeing Ignis's hands of the steering wheel left them free to entertain themselves, “But it’s cool if I’m not there.”
Ignis hummed as the car pulled up at the lights, and started tracing shapes on the back of Gladio's right hand as it gripped the stick shift, “Would you like to come over to my uncle’s for dinner then? I could fix us something to eat,”
“Sure, but only ‘cause you’re cooking,” said Gladio, “That’s all you needed to say and it would’ve been an automatic yes,”
“It doesn’t hurt to check,” said Ignis with a quiet laugh, “We could watch a movie after too if you had something in mind to bring. My uncle’s out of town for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
Ignis’s finger burned on the skin on the back of his hand.
Ignis invited him over to his house. While his uncle’s out of town. Gladio swallowed. Just the two of them, in his uncle’s house alone, together.
Compared to Gladio's previous relationships, whatever he had with Ignis now progressed at a slow, but comfortable pace. They've been seeing each other just under two months now, and they haven't gone further than their innocent kisses. And for now, Gladio was content. He didn't want to push Ignis, was Gladio's most common excuse, along with the fact that Ignis hadn't initiated anything further either, so maybe he didn't want to, never mind Ignis's subtle signals that indicated the contrary, like lingering on Gladio's lips at his uncle's doorstep, and the small frown that would follow when Gladio would pull away to bid him a hasty good night.
"Did you want to come in for something warm to drink?" asked Ignis at the end of one evening,
"Nah," said Gladio, "I'm pretty warm already. Good night Iggy!"
Yeah, nah, that wasn’t subtle at all. Pretty soon, Ignis will catch on to Gladio's avoidance, and Gladio would be without answers. The desire was definitely there, smoldering deep within, burning brighter with everyone of Ignis's touches, but beneath it all, the heavy feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite puzzle out incessantly returned, guilting him out of doing anything else but run away.
He squeezed the steering wheel with his left hand.
“I’ll try and think of something,” said Gladio, his voice coming out as a slight croak.
Dinner was superb, but it would be an insult for Gladio to expect anything else.
Ignis talked Gladio through the recipe as he cooked, with Gladio’s eyes glued to his figure the entire time from his barstool by the kitchen island. It was rare for Gladio to see Ignis so relaxed and entirely in his element, being in his kitchen, in his own home in a v-neck sweater that was half a size too large on him, the kind that seemed to only grow more homely with every use, and a faded pair of jeans worn more for comfort than for appearances.
Their conversation flowed and bounced from one tangent to another, all the way to when they ate huddled around the kitchen island. Dessert was a small cheesecake Gladio brought despite Ignis’s insistence that he shouldn’t need to bring anything as he was his guest, protests that were easily silenced with a quick kiss.
The dishes tossed in the dishwasher, their dessert heartily devoured, Gladio sat on the couch with a throw blanket across his lap, whilst Ignis fiddled with the disc that Gladio brought in front of his uncle's TV.
The movie was a piece of historical fiction set in old Lucis, following the life of a servant who eventually falls in love with one of the King’s generals. There was a bit of romance, but the political tensions were the main plotline, Gladio insisted. But it was one of the more tasteful book adaptations he had in his collection, and if some scenes were a hair away from racy, they were executed with an art to them. Or so Gladio would say.
"So you brought us a romance to watch," asked Ignis knowingly,
"No," Gladio shifted on the couch and uncovered a spot under the throw blanket for Ignis to sit, "It's historical fiction ,"
The opening credits started, and Ignis switched off the lights in the living room and sat himself next to Gladio, who covered their laps with the throw blanket.
“What on Eos is he wearing?” asked Ignis about a third of the way into the movie. At some point between the start of the movie and now, Gladio had draped his arm across the backrest of the couch, and eventually over Ignis’s shoulders, and Ignis had inched closer until their shoulders pressed against each other.
“Hey, it’s historically accurate,” said Gladio. Engrossed entirely on the TV screen with his thumbnail between his teeth, Gladio could take the time to focus on Ignis's features. He followed the light of the TV bouncing off his cheekbones, tracking down the moles on his cheek and down to his neck, then to his collarbones peeking out of his sweater, and then to the path that the chain he wore created to the skull pendant that sat just above the point of the v-neck collar of his sweater that met the pale skin of the top of his chest. Gladio moistened his chapped lips with his tongue, and continued, “They really did their research on costuming, as ridiculous as they look.”
“Have you seen this before?”
“I’ve read the book plenty of times, but I’ve never seen the movie,” Gladio’s heart thumped through his chest as Ignis moved closer to lay his head against it, “I figured now would be a good time as any,”
“Did the book have just as much exposition?” Ignis drawled, his voice travelling through the fabric of Gladio's hoodie,
“We need the set-up,” Gladio explained. His nose caught the soft scent of lavender. Ignis must’ve showered just before Gladio arrived. Gladio let out a shuddered exhale he hoped Ignis hadn't noticed, then added, “It shows you the political climate of that period of time.”
“And we need to know that before the general eventually has sex with his King's servant?”
Gladio snorted, then broke out into a loud bellowed laugh.
“Well do we?” asked Ignis, the mirth also clear in his voice,
“Yes, yes we do,”
“I’ll keep that in mind when the general finally ahem, breaches his defenses then,”
And as if it were even possible, Gladio laughed even harder, and Ignis’s shoulders shook under his arm as his laughter grew louder too, and Gladio felt it through his chest, completely drowning out the drone of the ancient councilman in the movie. As their laughter subsided and they caught their breaths, Gladio turned to look at Ignis, who had sat up from Gladio’s chest.
He met Gladio’s glance with his own, a smug smile across his face and a wily twinkle to his eye, illuminated in the dark living room by the light of the TV.
It was exactly like their first date.
Only this time, Gladio slid one hand down Ignis’s back and cupped Ignis’s cheek with his other and held his lips firm against Ignis’s.
Ignis pressed his hands to Gladio’s chest and froze in his grip.
“Should I stop?” asked Gladio,
With wide eyes and his glasses knocked askew Ignis shook his head.
Gods, he’s adorable.
“I’m sorry— I’ve never really—" Ignis muttered mere inches away from Gladio’s face, his warm breath against Gladio's lips a test to his willpower,
"We don't need to do anything you don't want to," said Gladio,
Ignis paused, and his eyes darted to the side. The pulsing ears in Gladio's grew louder as he watched the apple in Ignis’s throat bob.
"I'd really like it if you kissed me some more," he finally murmured,
“That, I would love to do,” said Gladio with a soft chuckle, “Are you okay with me taking your glasses off?”
Ignis nodded, unable to say anything else.
Gladio gently plucked off Ignis’s glasses from his face, and he placed them on the coffee table in front of the TV. He turned back to look at Ignis. Without his glasses and with his half-a-size-too-big sweater he looked closer to his age than how he normally did.
“You still okay?” asked Gladio,
“Yes,” said Ignis softly,
The movie left to drone on in the background, Gladio leaned back in and took Ignis’s lips in another kiss, then another, and another, until he’d lost count of those too, and his chest fluttered when Ignis clutched at the front of his hoodie and began meeting each kiss with tentative brushes of his lips.
Blood rushed through Gladio's ears as he pulled Ignis to sit between his legs and pressed him to lean against the backrest of the couch. His hand on Ignis’s back travelled down his spine, gently feeling out its curve through the fabric of his sweater, and settled on Ignis’s lower back, not daring to go further.
He licked and poked at Ignis's lips with trepidation, and he wanted nothing more than to groan when Ignis gingerly parted his lips to let him in, his taste sweet from lingering vanilla in Ignis’s mouth. Gladio’s pulse reverberated loud in his ears with each kiss, gentle and testing, feeling out for every twitch of Ignis’s fingers squeezing the front of his hoodie with each slide of his tongue. His chest tightened and it took all of his self-restraint to ignore the embers that the fresh scent of lavender mixed with Ignis's natural musk stoked in his belly, when Ignis held his arms around his neck and began to reciprocate with his own clumsy strokes.
There was a shift of Gladio's leg to the right, and their hips met in the briefest of friction. Against Gladio's lips, Ignis released a small whimper. The blood in Gladio's veins was like an electric current as it shot down somewhere lower.
Gladio eased his lips off Ignis, breaking away to let him catch his breath. In the flashing light of the TV screen, he could just distinguish the faint blush on Ignis’s face, his shining lips parted around his shallow breaths and the glint of green in his eyes as he held Gladio’s gaze. Gladio wanted nothing more than to wrap Ignis back in his arms and kiss him until he lost count of the hours of the evening, and of the number of whimpers he’ll tease out of him, along with many other sounds Gladio longed to be the cause of.
But that deep sinking sensation returned and formed a pit in his gut.
“Hey Iggy,” said Gladio. He kept one hand wrapped around Ignis’s back, but he lowered the other from Ignis’s face and down to hold his hand.
“Yes?” said Ignis, his voice soft and breathless,
“Do you remember when I first asked you out?”
“I do yes,” Ignis glanced down at their joined hands, and then back up at Gladio, “Why do you ask?”
“When I first asked you out,” Gladio took a deep breath and he lowered his eyes away from Ignis’s inquiring gaze and made the mistake of looking at Ignis’s lower lip. He swallowed, and looked up at Ignis again, “I actually wasn’t asking you out on a date.”
“What?" Ignis asked in almost whisper,
“I really just wanted to hang out.”
“So then— I— You—”
“I didn’t realise we were on a date ‘til I walked you home that night,” Gladio grinned apologetically, “Funny right?”
Ignis’s puzzled expression morphed into a sharp glare.
“Was this all just a joke to you?” said Ignis, his voice climbing down an octave and to a temperature that was cold as steel. He wrenched himself away from Gladio’s grip, and Gladio’s chest twinged when Ignis wrapped his arms across his front and moved to the other end of the couch, “Were you just having your fun— Toying with my feelings— Did someone put you up to this?!”
“What! No, no, you've got it all wrong, no one put me up to this— Or anything— this was all me—” Gladio kept his distance, despite how badly he wanted to draw closer, “I really wanted to be friends with you so I asked you to hang out, but I didn’t realise you took it that way.”
Ignis’s head lowered but the grimace of pain that flashed on his face when Gladio finished his last sentence made the twinge in his chest twist into a deep ache.
“And I didn’t think I’d enjoy spending time with you as much as I did,” Gladio added weakly.
Ignis’s arms around himself slackened and he lifted his eyes to briefly regard Gladio.
“I dunno if you remember, but we were makin’ out on your couch just a few seconds ago," said Gladio, "Did that seem like a joke to you?”
“I don’t know with you okay Gladio? I’m not— I’m not like you, for all I know you can easily just do these things with people, but for me— I can’t. Things like this— I should’ve questioned you the first time, had I been level-headed I would’ve clarified but—”
“But what?”
Ignis cast his eyes back down on the floor, “I really liked you."
Thankful for the near darkness, a wide grin slowly spread across Gladio's face along with a heat that burst out of his chest from the admission. His voice bright despite himself, Gladio asked, “You mean even before I asked you out?”
Ignis nodded.
"I thought nothing would come out of this— this— pointless affliction ,” said Ignis with a small wave of his hand, ”And I was prepared to keep our relations cordial for the sake of work."
His frown deepened further when Gladio ran his hand through his hair and slowly started laughing.
"And what exactly is it do you find so funny Gladiolus?"
"All that time, I thought you hated me."
“I didn't know how to act around you,” Ignis sighed, “But you were always so friendly and insistent, so when you came to me one day and you asked me out so plainly, I suppose my mind heard what I wanted it to hear, and I pushed my feelings onto you,” Ignis drew a deep breath and let out a weary exhale, “I apologise now for putting you in this awkward position.”
“Nah, it’s partly my fault too,” said Gladio, “For not catching on.”
For a moment, the two stayed silent, and the only sound that remained was from the cacophony of clanging swords in an intense battle scene from the movie on the TV.
“Where do we go from here?” asked Ignis quietly, “I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do for the sake of my feelings.”
“What the fuck Iggy, seriously? You don’t think I want this?” Gladio fixed his gaze on Ignis, who continued to instead examine each stitch on the throw blanket in his lap, “Why do you think I said yes when you asked me out?”
“To be polite, clearly!” said Ignis with a sharp shrug of his shoulders,
“Then why do you think I asked you out after?”
“I suppose at that point it would’ve been too uncomfortable to pretend nothing had happened between us, or to reveal any disconcerting truths.”
“And I could’ve just done that, but I didn't,” Gladio gently placed his hands on Ignis’s shoulders, “I asked you out ‘cause I had a lot of fun with you and I think you're fuckin’ adorable," Gladio angled his head down to try and catch Ignis's eye, “I really like you too, Iggy."
Ignis recoiled, and folded his arms across his chest again.
“Okay now you’re shy on me again,” sighed Gladio, “I was literally just suckin’ your face like I’ve thought about it all week—which I have —and I thought it would’ve been obvious from the past few weeks that I’m not doing this out of politeness, I dunno why you’re so surprised to hear that I like you.”
“Of course I’ve gotten that impression— But I've told you I'm new to this,” Ignis exhaled through his nose, “I'm not used to hearing someone say it out loud,”
“What?” Gladio grinned. He liked the sound of it too. “That I like you?”
Ignis brought his knees up to his chest and hugged himself tighter.
“Dunno why it’s an issue,” said Gladio, “You just said you liked me.”
Still making to scrutinise the blanket on his lap, Ignis’s eyes widened in realisation.
“Iggy, come here, look at me.”
There was a risk that Gladio had taken his teasing too far and Ignis had shut himself off for the night, and Gladio held his breath, but Ignis reluctantly brought his eyes back up to meet Gladio’s, and he could let out a sigh of relief.
“Are you free tomorrow?” asked Gladio,
“Why are you asking me this now?" said Ignis, his voice small and hesitant,
“Wanna go see a movie with me? We can have dinner someplace nice after, then go back to your uncle’s place,” Gladio inched closer to Ignis’s side of the couch like how one approach a scared animal, and placed a hand on Ignis's elbow, carefully, as if to check if he would pull back, "See where things go, maybe make out a little? But only if you wanna,” then he added, with a playful inflection, “I heard your uncle’s out of town.”
Ignis’s lips pursed, caught between an insistence that he was still upset with Gladio thank you very much, and a poorly suppressed smile.
“Is it a horror movie?” Ignis finally asked,
“Depends what they’re showing, but I’m hoping it is so you have a reason to grab me,”
“You can't exactly redo a first date Gladio," said Ignis, his brows drawn in skepticism,
"We're not redoing, 'cos I did enjoy it," Gladio gave Ignis a lopsided smile, "But I wanna try and make our first date special for both of us y'know?"
“It would've helped if we both knew we were on it—”
“Exactly! You’re a genius Iggs, that’s why I like ya,” said Gladio with a guffaw that made Ignis roll his eyes, "Think of it as, not really a do-over, but more like— What’s that word they use in council meetings again when they wanna fix something—"
"An amendment?"
"That’s the one!” Gladio gently squeezed one of Ignis’s shoulders and he took it as a good sign that he hadn’t flinched or pulled away, “So whaddya say Iggy, are you free for an amended first date with me?"
It was hesitant and Gladio really had to look closely to see it, but he almost punched the air in triumph when Ignis finally let himself smile, "I suppose I can find the time."
“Awesome, I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“It’s a date,” said Ignis, more as a firm declaration than a playful addition. He slowly uncrossed his arms and lowered his legs back on the couch but made no move to get away from Gladio's touch. With a jut of his lower lip that made Gladio want to kiss him again, he sternly added, “You know, just so we’re both clear.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” said Gladio with a sheepish smile.
"But I don't understand, you could've just pretended you knew," said Ignis with a puzzled quirk of his brow, "Why tell me now?"
Gladio shrugged. Why did he have to bring it up? They were getting on well and he could've just left it until it became a distant and funny story look back on one day.
But it was that heavy weight in his gut.
Gladio leaned his chin on his hand, and his elbow on his knee, "I was jealous," he mumbled.
"Of who?"
Gladio put his hands in the pouch of his hoodie, and hunched his shoulders, "Of you,"
"You can't possibly be saying—"
"That I was jealous 'cause you were on our first date and I wasn't?"
And at long last, the sinking feeling in his gut dissipated.
"Oh dear, Gladio," Ignis cracked a smile and muffled his laugh with his hand, "That's so— so—"
"I know, I know, it sounds dumb," said Gladio,
"No, it’s not dumb," said Ignis, "It’s precious, more like."
"Yeah, well, I had fun with you that night, but it sucked that I didn't know," said Gladio with a self-conscious scratch of the back of his head. He should be glad that Ignis was smiling again, but Ignis's amusement made his cheeks flush in embarrassment, "'cause one day I hope the rest of your firsts’ll be with me too."
That was one way to wipe the teasing smile off Ignis’s face. He bowed his head in embarrassment, and clutched at the blanket on his lap.
"T-that remains to be seen," muttered Ignis, “We’ve yet to go on our first date together, for one thing.”
"One step at a time right?" Gladio chuckled. He scooted closer until their knees were touching again, and took both of Ignis's hands in his, “What do you wanna do now? We could just keep watching the movie if you want.”
It took Ignis what felt to Gladio like an endless moment of silent thought, before he coyly turned back to face him and to Gladio's unbridled joy, closed his hands around Gladio's.
"Can you kiss me again?" Ignis asked,
"Before our amended first date?" said Gladio with a warm smile as he wrapped one arm around Ignis's lower back, "Order's a bit backwards don't you think?"
"I have to ensure you're aware of your own intentions this time," said Ignis with a modest but unmistakable smile.
"Ha, I am perfectly aware now, thanks," Gladio chuckled and he leaned back in to brush against Ignis’s lips, "But I'd be happy to remind ya."
After breathing in the cool air, Clarus released a quiet exhale. Regis was right. The crisp fresh air made Clarus’s headache a world of difference. He walked aside Regis, who had one hand on his cane, and the other on his phone against his ear as the two made their way to one of the Citadel’s gardens, one that was bound to be empty hours past lunch.
The turn of the hour was when the outdoor areas of the Citadel were most crowded, with staff and recruits bustling through to move from one appointment to another, but in the late afternoon, particularly when winter tread so closely at their doorstep and made her presence known with the bite of her embrace, it was rare to find anyone else dilly-dallying about. It was the very reason that the King took what would have been an hour-long talk with his Shield of various pressing but already dry matters within the looming walls of the Citadel, and out into a pleasant stroll in the vestiges of the autumn sun.
Rolling his shoulders, Clarus leaned against a column as Regis continued his phone conversation. The matter was of no concern to Clarus, and it was a relatively safe area they were in. Even the Shield of the King should be allowed time when their minds could rest, even for a short moment, especially for a pleasant autumn afternoon such as this.
He looked past the column that they stood behind, and out into what at first glance, was an empty courtyard.
It seemed two lone figures had the same idea.
Under the brilliant red leaves of a maple tree, two figures sat snug against each other on a stone bench, one dressed for the office, the other in the Crownsguard training uniform and a dark baseball cap. Though their laughter carried across the courtyard, they kept their voices low as they talked, like everything they said to each other was an intimate secret to be kept between them.
The shorter of the two boys turned to push up the brim of the taller boy’s cap and he leaned in for a kiss.
“Gladiolus and Ignis are getting on well,” said Regis as he peered over Clarus’s shoulder from behind him, "Still feeding him with all your old stories, I see?”
Clarus let out a weary sigh. With how different the two boys had been as children, he had worried the two of them would struggle to find common ground. Though his stories were to set an example for Gladiolus, to instil with him the values of a good Shield and a good friend no matter his place in his King's circle, further down the track he had hoped that they would also help give Ignis—at the time a small child, alone without his family in a foreign country—a chance at a genuine friendship.
He worried that Ignis didn’t seem the type to bend so easily. But Gladio had always been an unstoppable force.
The shorter boy pulled away from their kiss and for a moment, the two boys sat with their joined hands on the shorter boy's lap, the only sound between them the rustle of golden leaves being carried away by the wind at their feet.
Gladio nervously whipped his head around, then wrapped an arm around Ignis's shoulders.
On that evening all those years ago when Gladio was but a laddie sat at Clarus's feet by the fireplace, listening to his stories with rapt and awed attention wondering with wide eyed amazement what his future had in store for him, Clarus never would have expected the result to be the image before him—of his son, the future Shield to the Prince, and his fond and tender gaze at the Prince's future Advisor as he lay his head against his shoulder.
An ache settled in Clarus’s chest. Aster surely would've been overjoyed. She always did have more of a flair for romance than Clarus did.
It would be a tough road ahead, should the boys deem it worth treading. Bonds stronger than anything under the light of the Crystal indeed.
"Let's give the two their privacy," said Regis with a kind smile and a hand on Clarus’s shoulder, "Come, let's head back."
“Gladiolus never did do anything by halves,” Clarus said, with a solemn shake of his head.
Looking out at the two boys, Regis’s smile was wistful and nostalgic. He turned back to Clarus, and with his free hand, he lightly touched Clarus’s forearm.
"Just like his father," said Regis.
It was on reflex that Clarus glanced around the garden for any passersby, for his King's security he would say, before he brushed the back of his fingers along Regis’s proffered hand.
Like the affectionate display of another Amicitia swordsman just meters away from them, Clarus’s touch was gentle and light as he laced his fingers with Regis’s, and together, they walked hand in hand back into the Citadel.