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The pair of tickets in Noct’s hand is very much identical to the ones in Ignis’ pocket.
“Oh,” Ignis says, faintly strangled, and he’s flushing slightly at the idea that they both thought of the same date idea.
Noct’s face falls. “You don’t like it?”
Ignis immediately feels stricken at causing such distress. “I do,” he breathes out, still very pleased at the coincidence, and clears his throat when Noct gives him a confused look. “Ah, I mean…” A pause, before he decides to fish in his pocket for those tickets.
Noct barks out a laugh when Ignis holds them up. Dark and faintly sparkling like the ones Noct possesses.
“You’re joking?” he asks after a short cough, grinning widely.
“Unfortunately not. We’ve paid double the price needed.”
Noct snorts, pauses to cough into his hand, before elbowing him in the side. “We thought up the same thing for our anniversary, Iggy! That’s pretty awesome, right?”
Ignis hides a smile. “Perhaps.” He leans down to press gentle kisses along a stubbly chin. “Now,” he drawls, straightening, “shall we get that cough checked out?”
He’s looking away. Ignis quietly reaches into his pocket to thumb at the box. Special indeed, though he wonders what Noct’s thinking.
He’s a light sleeper. When Noct suddenly shifts a day later with a groan, Ignis straightens up immediately. He’s fast enough to lunge out of the bed in time to stop Noct from tumbling right out of his blankets and onto the floor.
A grunt escapes Ignis as he steps forward into a crouch. Noct shifts in his arms, squinting up at him, legs sprawled on the bed while his upper half is supported unsteadily by Ignis.
“Noct,” Ignis says once, strained.
“That’s hot,” Noct says, and he laughs before shuffling back into position with Ignis assisting him. Once he’s settled, he fixes Ignis with a decidedly feverish gaze. “Holdin’ me, I mean. Your shoulders are so—”
“Noct,” he interrupts gently, “your fever is getting worse. Lay down.”
The other flops back at his words immediately which is perhaps telling about how exhausted he must be. Ignis’ chest tightens before he stands to retrieve water and a cloth. However, a tug at his sleeve stays his motion and he looks down to see Noct squinting up at him.
“Ruined,” Noct tells him, and he looks crestfallen. Ignis instinctively kneels before him, a hand gently holding the one that clung to him so desperately. “Dinner. With stargazing. All the plans I had.”
“Noct,” Ignis begins softly, helplessly, but Noct barrels on.
“Was gonna be special,” Noct mutters again, and Ignis stares a moment. Does he know…?
“Get some rest,” Ignis chides softly. Noct blinks at him sleepily before falling asleep. Ignis lets out a quiet breath he’d been holding in and gets up to retrieve a damp cloth.
Three days before their anniversary, Ignis sits beside a bedridden Noct.
He’s sleeping now. It didn’t take long for the symptoms to develop and it certainly didn’t take long for him to immediately dive headfirst into the bed before they became severe. Still, Ignis couldn’t entirely find it in himself to begrudge Noct all the rest he needs. Flus were terrible to go through.
And they took a while to sweat out, as well. Ignis glances at the window, to the night sky. Astrologists say Ifrit’s and Shiva’s constellations are going to shine brighter than usual in three days.
Ignis puts a hand in his pocket to find the small box hidden within. He recalls what’s inside it: a wedding band made of meteorite with silver-tinged edges that curl along the inside, gently framing the word ‘always’ delicately inscribed. When he bought it, it became a small habit to brush his fingers over the casing to ascertain he hadn’t lost it. Now, though, with the event so thoroughly cancelled due to the party he planned to propose to very sick, he finds himself fiddling with it often.
But it’s fine, he thinks, watching the way Noct curls on his side, shivering under the blankets, other chances can be made.
“Hey.” Noct’s voice sounds from the pile of blankets and Ignis spies bleary eyes peeking out at him. “S’going on?”
“Noct,” Ignis greets softly, scooting his chair closer, and he rests his hand atop the thick material where his head should be. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” Noct says bluntly. “Like death.”
“Charming,” Ignis responds dryly, though there’s still a spark of worry as he leans over to feel his forehead. Hotter than when it first started and rising. “A few days more like this then you’ll have weathered the worst of it.”
“Great,” Noct mutters sullenly, before he jerks upright, eyes wide as he stares at Ignis. “Days?” he asks, distressed, and abruptly puts a hand to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. “Ow.”
“Lay back down,” Ignis chides, standing to rest a hand against his back and another at his shoulder to guide him down again. “Don’t worry, Noct. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“But days,” Noct stresses out, breathing out slowly as he reclines. “We’ll miss the stargazing event!”
Ah, of course. Noct wished to go as much as Ignis. A grimace forms on his lips. “We’ll have to sit that one out, Noct. My apologies.”
“S’not your fault,” Noct mutters sullenly, but he turns on his side anyway away from him.
Ignis frowns. “Noct?” he calls softly.
“Was gonna be special,” he thinks he hears Noct huff out before going silent.
“We can wait until the next showing,” Ignis murmurs, and his free hand reaches over to gently smooth back the other’s hair. “It’s okay, Noct.”
“No,” Noct moans out, turning into his touch. Ignis frowns. “It was gonna be perfect. Like—y’know, it was Ifrit’s and Shiva’s constellation, right?”
“It would have been brighter,” Ignis murmurs, and a part of him is still disappointed that he’ll miss out on such an event. “The alignment would have—,” he starts, then cuts himself off. Shakes his head. “Noct, please rest.”
“Was gonna marry you.”
Ignis jerks his head to look at Noct. For a moment, he can only gape.
“Ah,” is all the noise he can make helplessly in response. But that means Noct had planned to—when Ignis had planned to—
“Wasn’t sure for the longest time how then—had that event and it all clicked…” Noct’s mumbling and it’s barely coherent. Ignis honestly shouldn’t even be listening to this right now but it’s too late.
“Mm,” Ignis responds, still unable to form at least one coherent syllable. He clears his throat. Opens his mouth. Closes it again.
Noct was going to ask Ignis to marry him.
Giddiness rises in him as if the reality of it just hit him all at once. He can barely contain the laugh that rises in his throat but then he’s far too dizzy with joy to hold it back and it comes from his lips as an ugly, high, and perhaps hysterical burst of noise. Not a moment later, he’s chuckling into his hand, snorting with no shred of dignity every few seconds.
A few minutes later, the mirth dies down again, and it takes a couple of seconds for Ignis to realize Noct’s staring at him. Dreamily, almost, only added to by the red hue of his face and the fever-glazed eyes.
“Yeah,” Noct says, grinning dopily at him, “just like that.”
It’s adoration, Ignis thinks, struck frozen by the attention currently being paid to him. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen Noct look at him like that in the two years they’ve officially been together; it’s more-so a mind-numbing thing to see happen and, gods, Ignis loves him.
It takes another moment to realize he’s crying. He sees Noct’s face drop and Ignis feels his stomach drop in tandem. Hastily, he wipes at his eyes and blinks rapidly to cease the tears, but they don’t stop.
“Hey, hey,” Noct mutters, struggling to sit up, “s’ok. Isn’t scary to be in a, um, lifelong commitment with me. I think.” His words are slurred. Ignis feels terrible.
“Noct, no,” he chokes out, and gives another laugh. He sniffs horrendously loud before, consequences be damned, he leans forward to hug Noct tightly. He’s certain he can hear Noct coughing into his shoulder, but he’s crying again. “I’d love to—I-I’m happy to.”
Ignis pulls back in time to see a slow smile brighten Noct’s face again. Ignis loves that so much. He loves so many things about Noct. “Yeah?” Noct breathes out, and Ignis is very much aware of how much they’re are covered in snot and tears. Still, it doesn’t dampen his mood at all. Noct never could.
“Yes,” Ignis confirms, and hugs him tightly.
“Ugh,” Noct groans aloud as he flops onto their bed. “I finally don’t feel so gross now.”
Ignis hums from his position by the wardrobe. He’s fiddling with the box again, turning it over in his hand, and slips it into his pocket before turning to Noct. “Thankfully your flu has run the average amount of time.” Inwardly, he’s praying Noct doesn’t remember confessing to his plan. So far, so good it seems.
Noct groans. “Average amount is too long, in my opinion.” A pause. He squints at Ignis. “Did you sleep at all?
A pause. Ignis looks away, sheepish. “The bare minimum, perhaps.”
“Iggy.” Noct begins to sit up gingerly and Ignis immediately moves to him. Noct shoves lightly at him with a scowl but Ignis stubbornly seats himself beside him.
“Never you mind, Noct.”
“Maybe if you sleep next time. Otherwise I’ll—I’ll I sneeze on you—”
Ignis gives him a feigned hurt look. “On purpose?”
Noct looks away, huffing. “Well...”
“Mm, I can imagine the consequences, though,” Ignis carries on whimsically. A grin starts to tug at his lips. “Runny nose. Phlegm. High fever. The tendency to lay bare all your secrets...”
Noct stiffens, as predicted, and he shoots a wide-eyed look at him. “Wh-what secrets?”
“Oh, you needn’t worry, Noct,” Ignis tells him airily, inspecting his nails for show. “I know everything now.”
“Like what?” Noct’s still staring at him, and there’s a pout pulling at his lips. It’s enough to draw forth a few breaths of mirth before he leans forward to press a kiss atop his nose.
“Well,” Ignis murmurs, dipping down to brush his lips against Noct’s mouth, “apparently we’re married now.” He draws back, keeping the entirety of his attention on Noct’s face.
“Yeah?” Noct asks distractedly, and Ignis notes with amusement the way his eyes fixate on his lips instead. Then, it’s a quick change: his eyes widen comically before his head jerks up abruptly to gape at him. “Wait, what—?!” It’s almost a wheezed exclamation.
Ignis takes a moment to laugh, affection rising equally with the amount of delight he’s garnering from this, before he quickly finds Noct’s hands with his own, admittedly matching the nervous giddiness making tremble Noct’s grip as he clutches at Ignis with a death grip.
“Quite so,” he says breathlessly, grinning so wide it almost hurt, “we’ll be husbands.”
“Hus—?” Noct starts, and chokes on the next syllable instead. He clears his throat, face red, and Ignis can’t help himself when he leans forward again to pepper kisses along his jaw. Noct’s unresponsive at first. Then he gives a breathless laugh. “Husbands,” Noct repeats, cupping Ignis’ cheeks to pull him up to stare at him.
“That’s right,” Ignis says softly, and meets Noct halfway when he leans in to kiss him.
They linger like that a moment, quietly linked with hands interlacing at their sides, before Noct withdraws with a wide grin. “Lucky you, huh?”
Ignis snorts, squeezing his hand tightly. “You mean lucky you.”
“Mm…” A hum of contemplation is given in response and Ignis only draws him into his arms tightly. Noct sinks into him and Ignis takes the moment to dig into his pocket for the box. He pulls back after a moment, Noct giving a soft noise at the loss of closeness, but it’s cut off abruptly when his eyes land on the box Ignis lifts between them.
“That’s not…” Noct starts, strangled.
Ignis nods, trying not to laugh.
Noct stares at him, eyes wide. His mouth forms a perfect circle and Ignis can’t help the snort that escapes him. “No way,” Noct breathes out, too shell-shocked to react, it seems.
“I thought the same when you confessed,” Ignis responds softly. His free hand reaches up to cup Noct’s cheek and Noct automatically covers it with his own hand, squeezing tightly. “Seems we had the same agenda that night.” Quietly, he starts to open it, but Noct’s hand shoots out to stop him.
“Me first,” Noct says breathlessly, and gives him a half-hearted glare. “I asked you first technically, so I get to go, right?”
“Mm.” Ignis grins. “Debatable.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you didn’t quite ask. It was more of a confession towards… planning to ask.”
“No way,” Noct repeats, clearly pouting now.
“I can wait while you retrieve your ring,” Ignis says, quirking a brow.
“Yeah?” Noct asks, and Ignis falls for him all over again when he grins widely at him. Noct pulls away and reaches under his pillow to retrieve a small, purple box. “Now we can propose.”
“A moment,” Ignis holds up a hand. “Did you—truly hide that under your…?”
Noct nods. “Yeah.”
“So, when I asked what exactly was prodding into the back of my neck the other night, it wasn’t exactly a knife…?”
Noct nods again. “Mmhm.”
“You hid it where I could easily find it.”
Noct leans forward to tap his nose and that’s all he really needed to do to diminish Ignis’ incredulity. “But you didn’t!”
Ignis pauses. Feigns contemplation. “I think I love you.”
“Think?” Noct’s grinning too much to don fake outrage.
“Very much love you, then.”
They pause. Ignis stares at Noct, quietly memorizing the giddy smile crossing his lips and the way his eyes are bright with happiness. He loves that. Loves him.
Noct huffs, dropping his gaze a moment to pop open his box. He looks back up at Ignis, and his voice is a bit breathless. “Wanna marry me, then?”
Ignis laughs. They don’t need planning for this. They don’t need an event nor dinner to make this happen.
Ignis carefully opens his own box and smiles. “Only if you marry me.”