“Mmfuck, yes.”
There was something especially scandalous in hearing the Crown Prince of Lucis’s slurred and needy cussing echoing down the spacious, marble penthouse corridor, but Ignis took it in his stride, only stiffening with imperceptible grace when the prince’s blond companion’s downright devilish giggling followed. He was, after all, nothing if not a man of duty, a product of generations’ worth of well-honed manners and the highest of academic and social expectations. In short, Ignis was an expert in the making when it came to caring for the fledgling king the prince would become.
Presently however, Prince Noctis was anything but well-mannered. He was, in fact, a walking wet dream with his carefully-crafted bedhead, dark, fitted jeans and dishevelled t-shirt currently twisted about his slender frame. The hem, naturally, was tugged teasingly upward, revealing just a taste of pale flesh in the dimly lit hall. Between the pair of them, Ignis could see the dark fabric balled up in the clenched fist of the impishly grinning Prompto. Saucy, freckle-kissed Prompto, currently pinned again between the prince and the glossy-black wall beside the elevator, swallowing needy, velvet words as they tumbled from ready, royal lips with his own.
By Ignis’ count, this was the eighth time they’d shuffled, dragged, giggled like children and collapsed against one another to the point of stopping since they’d entered the building with the intent of ending the night.
That had been the young advisor’s plan, at least. It was a Friday night, one that had dragged on rather later than usual after yet another day filled with training sessions, admittedly dull meetings and far too many details to manage. Ignis thrived on details, however, and thus usually did well when it came to managing the Prince’s schedule. Tonight, for instance, there had been plenty of time to dine out, like Noctis had requested, and perhaps engage in some sort of leisure activity before going to bed at a respectable hour in preparation for early Saturday magic work.
That had been his plan.
Unfortunately, the prince and his friend had had other plans in mind- plans that would push the advisor to his limit when it came to patience. They’d cleverly waited until Prompto was in the vehicle, bolstering their numbers of course, to begin tossing around the idea of this… Six-forsaken karaoke bar on the outskirts of the city as a possible destination for their night of fun. Ignis had cringed at the thought of whatever deep-fried horrors the place would surely offer, not to mention enduring the sorts of crass and generic pop lyrics that would wind up being caterwauled drunkenly through a cheap, crackling microphone on some beer-stained stage.
His charges for the evening had planned ahead, however, presenting the idea amidst far-too-cheeky smiles and not-so-gentle teasing on all sides, and although Ignis had initially defaulted to his lifetime (nearly two decades’ worth, damn it!) of experience in handling royal whims, they soon found themselves holed up in a shabby, well-worn booth near the back of the bar, the three of them awash in ghastly neon lighting, where they would remain until closing.
Naturally Prompto and Noctis had both secured plenty of drinks for themselves with no trouble whatsoever. What Prompto lacked in etiquette and formality, he made up for in spades with an uncanny ability to always find and offer up exactly what his Prince needed. Which of course brought them to their present situation.
Ignis sighed the heaviest of sighs. “Highness-”
“Ooh yeah, ‘Highness’. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Prompto teased on the cusp of tipsy laughter, hips grinding pointedly just shy of where Noctis would really want it. Noctis, for his part, hissed and let his head loll back, teeth sinking into the swell of his bottom lip with the pressure.
“Fff- want it, Prom…” came his strained reply, punctuated by another firm press against his friend. They were hell-bent on desecrating that very wall in that very hallway before long, and Ignis could not be held responsible for that mess.
“Highness, it’s late. Your friend is of course welcome to stay, as you wish, but shouldn’t we at least enter the flat?” Ignis was a testament to good breeding everywhere, and clearly felt nothing twitch below his belt as he watched his even more well-bred prince palm his friend’s blatant erection through his jeans.
“Yeah, I’m good with the whole 'entering’ thing,” Prompto quipped drunkenly, even looking to Ignis as he slurred, and Noctis only pulled away to get caught up in the raucous snickering that followed.
“Alright, Iggy. Keep your pants on. Or don’t- y'know…whatever works for you,” Noctis continued in this vein, to Prompto’s howling delight, as the pair of them braced rather sloppily against one another for the arduous four-meter journey to the door.
Ignis looked away, neatly sliding his glasses back into place, and his hands were not the least bit shaky as they made quick work of the keypad and combination fingerprint reading required to gain access to the Prince’s living space. Once inside, he was struck by how unreasonably warm he felt, and naturally made a mental note to check the settings on the heating system once he again had things in order. Yes.
Noctis, for his part, immediately discarded his sweat-dampened t-shirt, letting it fall carelessly to the kitchen floor near where he’d kicked off his shoes and swept into the livingroom. He turned at once to Prompto on his heels, and the door had not even been closed behind them before they were on one another- Noctis’ fine features slipping easily back into the very picture of unbridled lust, and Prompto’s sweet, elfin visage contorting in kind with all-too-eager appreciation.
Ignis drew a deep breath and saw to the door, taking his time to straighten things up while Noctis and Prompto saw fit to do anything but to one another, quickly becoming a tangled mess of limbs and ragged, keening groans. They’d landed somehow on the sofa, Noctis draped there on his back as Prompto nestled between the prince’s legs, nuzzling near-frantically at the inviting juncture of his neck and shoulder.
“Gods- fucking dammit, Prompto…you feel so fucking good,” the Crown Prince of Lucis whimpered as he bucked wantonly against his friend, fingers splayed through and tugging at that golden hair as he breathlessly uttered this heady stream of consciousness really only meant for one pair of ears. It all reached Ignis as well, of course, to his complete and distinct lack of pleasure as he found himself standing on the edge of the display.
“Mm, Noct…I could do this for fucking ever,” Prompto had clearly used his teeth on the Prince’s tender flesh, nibbling playfully along his collarbone as his hands slid beneath them with trembling need to cup Noctis’ royal ass.
Oh, that… that was it. That was-
“Enough!” Ignis blurted out quite suddenly, and by the Six it was sweltering in there. He strode forward as Prompto angled himself against Noctis, hips grinding haphazardly against one another, and Ignis was filled with no hesitation whatsoever as he sought to push the pair of them apart. They largely ignored him- or was that a hint of self-satisfaction he saw as Noctis pulled Prompto in for another searing kiss?
“Mm, nahh…” began a thoroughly intoxicated Prompto, and perhaps it had been the start of Noctis’ name rather than a protest, though the results were the same.
“-can’t get 'nough,” slurred a positively drunken Noctis as he slipped his tongue past Prompto’s greedy lips. Voices hitched and breathing grew staggered beneath Ignis’ firm grasp on their shoulders, bodies tensing into syncopated movements right there in front of him as rhythm eluded them for the rush of pleasure pooling in their bellies.
Then Noctis let out a low, gasping growl of a cry, and Prompto followed soon after, whimpering into the prince’s throat as he shook against him.
Defeated, Ignis sank helplessly to his knees on the plush throw rug below them, dragging a hand through his hair. He considered his present predicament- an unwitting audience in the prince’s exhausting, impromptu dry-humping session- and he wrestled irritably with what to do next. Did he simply turn on the damned television? Did he leave, and forsake his duty to see the prince to bed safely and soundly? Perhaps prepare them a nice midnight snack as well as a couple of fresh towels and pretend as though he hadn’t just watched them cum in their pants together?!
Forget that he was certainly not paid enough for this; literally none of his training had truly prepared him for this particular situation.
It certainly hadn’t prepared him for how terribly, uncomfortably tight his trousers felt, knelt on the floor below a post-orgasmic prince and his friend- lover- whatever they were. Nor had it prepared him for how suddenly his hands hung near his lap, unbidden, just shy of being indecent as they tugged at the designer fabric and the aching he felt beneath. And there had never been lessons on how to reconcile the hint of warm dampness he could feel spreading near the seam of his zipper.
He had to say something, surely. Had to do something, but-
Just then, like the celestial heavens themselves had decided to take pity on the poor, beleaguered advisor, Prince Noctis let out the softest sigh. His head drooped against the cushion beneath it, half-naked body going boneless beneath the blond nestled in against it. Prompto proceeded in murmuring something incomprehensible against the prince’s skin, breathing slowly growing steadier until it tapered into warm, blissful little snores.
Well. At the very least, Ignis could work with that. It was easy enough to drape a blanket over the sleeping pair- he would reserve thinking about certain messes he would need probably need to contend with for the morning- and slip back into control over the situation as a whole. The prince was…sated, and sound asleep. His guest was likewise…cared for. The place wasn’t too much of a disaster, and they’d dirtied no dishes that evening… All that remained, really, was for Ignis to ensure the penthouse was secure before taking his leave.
Well, that and his own raging erection that still strained in his shorts. But Ignis was nothing if not a man of duty.