Archive of Our Own ^beta

Clarus wasn’t a neglectful father. He had his duties, and his duties came first.

He knew that before he was given his first sword, before he met his wife, and before he had his children. Everything in his life came second to his King. Still, he did his best to be as present as he could, and he knew the challenges Gladio must have been going through growing into the next Shield. The desire to experience freedom before an eagle was permanently inked across his skin.

Clarus understood it all too well and turned a blind eye to many of the antics his son got up to when he thought no one was watching. The furthest Clarus let himself get involved was when Gladio crossed the line too far into recklessness in a way that could have consequences for the Crown if given the chance to continue.

When Gladio was sixteen, his first experience with gossip flourished. Word spread about him having sex with a girl from another high-ranking family in a forgotten corner of the Citadel. Clarus sat him down, as all guardians should, and had a second round of the talk with him.

He cautioned him against doing anything foolish that could compromise his duties, told him how to be safe and discreet, and ended the conversation by giving him a box of condoms and instructions on where extras would always be kept so Gladio could help himself to them without shame should he ever be in need. He didn't encourage him to have sex, but he did make sure the boy had all the tools he needed to stay safe when he inevitably did.

Clarus wasn't sure afterward if he'd done a good job. A new story came out every month about the boy bedding a new girl—in the Citadel, a motel in the city, and other places Clarus lost track of. But it was only gossip, and Clarus noticed the condoms in his private bathroom were still being used, only much slower than the talk.

As long as Gladio was being safe and not causing any major political incidents, Clarus would let him explore his options and have his fun.

Say for one rule.

Absolutely no hookups in the manor.

Their home meant something to the family, to history, and Clarus put down the rule as his father had. No one should be allowed within its walls who didn’t respect or understand it.

It wasn't only for their family's honor. Clarus didn't want anyone in their home that he didn't personally trust and approve of. There were too many opportunities for security breaches, particularly with the sensitive material locked away in his private office, and Gladio wasn't an only child. Clarus didn't want Iris' safe space to be intruded on or violated by a stranger. Gladio was a protective brother, but he was also a young man with hormones that could override common sense. Proven by the times he had broken the rule.

There were nights when Clarus arrived home or woke up to sounds that could be nothing else. He would go to the boy's room, pound on the door, give them a moment to get covered, and enter—no matter the state they were in. Because it was his house. And if Gladio didn’t respect the rules, he was only lucky his father didn’t barge in immediately.

From there, Clarus would turn his back so the woman he barely recognized could hurry to dress and gather her things before being escorted out and offered a ride home, because despite his anger, she deserved to get back to her family safely.

The conversations he had with them in the car ranged from pleasant—when she apologized, and he accepted the words while telling her to make sure Gladio brought her to an expensive hotel next time to make it up to her—to antagonistic—when the drive ended with her in an interrogation room, a recording of his underage son being confiscated. One Clarus could guarantee Gladio knew nothing about.

The fact it happened twice, once with the intention of blackmail and the other with the hopes of making easy money, did nothing to ease up on the rule. The fury of it happening to his son was followed by how enraged he was to know Iris had been put so close to danger. If anything, sitting Gladio down to lay out his punishment began including the pressure to start doing background checks on every girl he had an interest in before getting close.

But no matter how those nights ended, good or bad, Cor would come to him a few days later, asking if there was a reason Gladio was assisting with training so much longer than usual.

Now though, Gladio was no longer a teenager with pent up energy. Gossip about his flings slowed down significantly, and the ones that did exist, Clarus doubted. It had thankfully been a long time since he had to break up any sexual encounters in his home. Gladio was turning out to be a man worthy of the eagle tattoo wrapping around him like it had on all Shields before, displaying it proudly on a strong body he'd worked hard for.

Clarus had to wonder after some time, however, if he somehow managed to scare him off of dating entirely. It had been a while since he heard anything about new girlfriends, which was a first since his son hit puberty. But when he asked Gladio if he was seeing anyone, his mind was put at ease when the young man looked away, throwing out some answer about taking time for himself and not wanting to rush, all with a furious blush painted across his face.

And Clarus was happy for whichever woman he was seeing who could elicit such a reaction.

Several months later, Clarus was in bed, lamp on beside him as the radio rambled in the background. It had been a rare night off, and a pleasant one at that.

Gladio was out for dinner with a "friend"—Clarus was secretly proud of how well his son avoided questions about who he was meeting without making it obvious, a good skill to have in their position—and so Clarus got to have some much needed one on one time with his daughter while Jared had the week off.

They watched some episodes of a show Clarus had never seen but Iris was a fanatic about, talking throughout to explain what he needed to know in order to understand what was going on in season thirteen. Clarus even let them eat the dinner they made together on the couch as they watched.

When their plates were empty and the latest episodes completed, they turned to playing some games, and he caught up on everything Iris was up to. She talked about elementary school, piano lessons, who in her class was dating who, and even mentioned what she wanted to do this weekend when Gladio would be around too.

Overall, a wonderful night that took much of the stress off his shoulders.

And now, after reading a book to Iris accompanied by her giggles at his dramatic voices and tucking her in so she could get up early to make them all breakfast, he relaxed back on his pillows with the day's crossword over his lap and a pen scrawling each answer out as he listened to news channels and talk shows. He could fall asleep, but he hoped to hear Gladio come in, just to know he was alright and maybe manage to get some tidbits about how his date had gone.

As the hours rolled by, he checked his phone more often, knowing Gladio would usually text if he was staying elsewhere for the night. He nearly gave up, eyes remaining closed longer and longer with every blink, when a bump from several rooms down caught his attention.

Not an ounce of tiredness remained. Blame that on his training. He reached over to turn the volume down on the radio until it clicked off, leaving the room in silence.

The lamp was next to snap off. He moved to the door through the dark before his sight could adjust, turning the knob as quietly as he could and opening it enough to squeeze through. The sound had come from down the hall away from Iris’ room, thank the gods, but in the direction of Gladio’s.

Clarus kept his composure and walked down the edge of the hall where the floorboards didn't creak. His hand waited by his side, ready to summon a weapon. He froze when he heard another sound. For a minute, he waited and listened.

There. A soft sound from a person, like talking. Something must have dropped or fallen over to get his attention in the first place, because Clarus never would have heard the voice from his room. It was impossible to make out what was being said. He crept closer.

It wasn’t just coming from the direction of Gladio’s room. It was coming from inside Gladio's room.

When he got to the door, he pressed his ear against the wood and listened again. And there it was. A soft whimpering moan met by a growling chuckle. It was definitely Gladio's voice that said, "Oh? You like that, huh?"

Clarus could have thrown a firaga spell at the door right there. He let out a heavy exhale as he reached over to flick on the hall light. In the next moment, he pounded on the door with the side of a fist. "You have five seconds, Gladiolus Amicitia, and then I'm coming in!"

It was good Iris' room was the opposite way down the hall. She might be able to sleep through this confrontation. His knocking had the desired effect. For a frantic few seconds, he heard the panicked flinging of sheets and hurried whispers.

Five.

With one more calming breath, he twisted the knob and stepped into the room.

Light from the hall flooded the dark room where only moonlight had accompanied those inside moments before. A streak of bright yellow light hurried up the bed, and in it, a clearly naked Gladio sat covered by sheets from the waist down, knees conveniently bent to make a tent over himself.

He laid back on his pillows, trying to play at feeling absolutely no pressure from his father bursting in. The other person was nowhere in sight, but if Clarus had one guess, he'd bet his life she was the mound under the sheets next to Gladio. He was, however, almost impressed by how unnaturally still she was managing to stay.

Gladio cleared his throat, arm propping over the pillows so his fingers could play with his hair. Casual innocence. Absolutely nothing going on here.

Clarus' jaw tightened. He still hadn't released the knob. He squeezed it harder.

"Hey, Dad. I would have said goodnight, but I thought you were already asleep."

"Did you?" Clarus asked in a tone to let Gladio know what he thought of that. "Because the light was on in my room. As was the radio."

Judging by his face, Gladio hadn't noticed. "I came in a different way and just assumed. Sorry.”

"And why would you need to come in another way?”

“I wanted to take the scenic route,” the answer was out of his mouth before he could think about it. He dropped his hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Can we start over?"

The audacity. "Only if we can go back to your date tonight where you could decide not to break the one rule I have for you, Gladiolus. I don't care how infatuated you are with this woman. It has been your decision to keep any information about her from me, and I have respected that choice. So, you need to show an equal amount of respect for me."

That got a look Clarus wasn't sure how to interpret. Gladio looked hard to the side. "I didn't think the rules would apply to them. That's all."

Maybe this was the woman Gladio had been seeing the past several months. Maybe Gladio trusted her and did all the background checks Clarus had asked of him. But did that matter at all? Because if Gladio never brought her around to meet the family, to demonstrate he did those things, how respectable could she be? Sleeping around in Clarus' family home before introducing herself to him?

“I'm not playing these games with you. Do you want to introduce me to your companion, or should I come look under the covers myself?”

Gladio winced and glanced to the mound next to him. "There's really nothing to—"

“In case you’ve forgotten, this is my house. And you have a duty to this family to act in a way befitting our position. So, Gladiolus, do not start with me.”

Unlike every time before though, Gladio was being much more stubborn. Trying everything in his power not to give his partner a face.

Hell if Clarus knew why. Gladio often stopped seeing a girl after getting caught in the home like this, but that was hardly something Clarus had ever pushed on him. He could keep seeing this woman until they were married if he wanted. She would just not be allowed to sleep under this roof until she properly earned that right.

It had been ages since Clarus heard this rising desperation in Gladio’s voice. "Look, you can go back to bed, Dad. I'll show them out myself."

“No, please! It would be rude of me not to greet one of our guests!”

Gladio fully grimaced now. His father’s tone was hardly concealing the cold anger anymore, if it ever had. He was ready to see exactly the kind of scandal Gladio was about to bring down on the family that made him so cagey. So protective of keeping this person’s identity a secret. That alone left Clarus a little less than trusting. If she had been the one to insist on it, that left them in an even worse state.

"Dad, really—"

“Come on out then! Let me see just who has enchanted my son so fiercely!”

There was only a small pause before the sheets shifted and a tight smile took over Clarus’ face, ready to play as polite as his anger would let him.

Until a familiar head popped out. One he had known since it was a shaggy head of hair with large eyes peeking out from glasses that balanced over a small nose. The features were grown now—matured—and far more refined, even if Clarus would always see that child in them.

“Lord Amicitia,” the man said, looking at anything but the Shield, a small skull necklace hanging over his naked chest.

Clarus blinked. And blinked again.

And every threat, question, and command he expected to snap out died on his tongue. Every time he dealt with this kind of thing, he reacted the same way, went through the same lines, but this wasn’t just another one of Gladio's liaisons.

“Ignis?”

Everything about this was new. It might have been an open secret around the Citadel that Ignis liked men, but it was something he never knew about Gladio. That in and of itself didn't make a difference. A man disrespecting his home was no different than a woman, and Clarus would have commanded a man out from the bed and given him a ride home just the same. But what did make a difference was who the man was.

The person, leaning back on his arms and looking guilty enough to throw himself out the window if Clarus asked it of him, was one the Shield and King both thought of as a second son. He’d watched Ignis grow up vigilant by Noctis’ side, getting the young prince to listen and engage better than anyone else. Responsible, dependable, and loyal.

Clarus patched up more than one of his scraped knees, more than one cut when Ignis began wielding his first weapons. This boy came to him on more than a few occasions to ask for advice and brought pastries he'd baked to meetings with the King about Noctis' progress, being sure to offer some to Clarus before getting settled. It was a recipe Ignis told them he was trying to replicate for Noctis, and Regis had been so pleased about this fun detail of his son's life, that Ignis brought some of the latest attempts for them to try whenever he could.

But now, despite those other things, all Clarus could think about was three weeks ago, to one of the Citadel hallways. Kneeling on the floor as he held Ignis' hand against his chest, helping him breathe through a panic attack. He’d spoken calming words the best he could for nearly five minutes as Ignis tried so hard to not get crushed by the walls crowding around him.

When it faded and gave Ignis his lungs back, his body back, Clarus sat next to him and hugged him close as Ignis silently let himself cry for the first time in years. But he had gathered himself eventually, enough that Clarus was able to help him find and swallow a dose of the anti-anxiety pills he’d forgotten to take for over a week.

For the next half hour, they just talked. Clarus spoke about the gardens, which flowers were in bloom, and asked Ignis about his favorite places. Ignis brought up the things he’d been looking forward to doing throughout the city, many that included Gladio. At the time, Clarus was glad his son could be such a good friend.

After, Ignis finally composed himself enough to speak parting words so he could carry on with his duties, not wanting to run any later. Clarus had raised a brow at that and told him to go home for the rest of the day. That he would make sure his schedule was taken care of. It might have taken an order, but a small smile played on Ignis' lips as he thanked Clarus and handed over his file.

And now, Ignis was here. In his son's bed. Face and ears pink as he tried keeping a neutral expression. And somehow, Clarus was proud of how well he was doing.

Still, no matter how much he liked Ignis, respected him, it didn’t mean this relationship between him and Gladio was anything beyond casual. Though... when he asked Gladio to pick up Noctis from school that day in Ignis' stead, Gladio had asked a lot of questions about how Ignis was doing and went over to Ignis' apartment that evening. He hadn't returned home that night.

Clarus frowned uncertainly.

“Is it serious?” he asked after a long, stretched out silence, sliding his gaze from Ignis to his son. He knew what he hoped the answer was.

Gladio swallowed so thickly Clarus could see his throat bob even in the dim lighting. His son glanced over at Ignis first, their eyes meeting. “Yes, sir,” he answered. Clarus caught the way the blush on Ignis' face darkened, a bit of mirth bleeding into his expression even as he tried stopping it.

“How long?”

“About a year and a half.”

“Ignis?”

Ignis nodded.

Clarus didn’t have time to take that in, because he was starting to feel like the one in the wrong here. “Does anyone else know?”

They both shook their heads. Ignis leaned back on one arm, fingers from his other hand fidgeting with his necklace. It was an old habit Ignis had long since managed to tame, say for when his anxiety was acting up enough, and he needed to redirect it. Clarus didn't feel any better being the cause of it appearing now.

Ignis' chest rolled with a breath like the one Clarus had led him in weeks earlier. "We hoped to remain discreet until deciding whether this was something we could hope to make official. I can assure you, Lord Amicitia, we meant no ill intent."

"There's no need for you to be so formal, Ignis. I don't imagine this situation calls for such." Clarus sighed, looking back to the hall as if anyone else would be there to consult with.

He couldn’t think of anything else to say in the face of so many revelations. They should go over the expectations that would be on them. How others would see the two. The questions about whether they were loyal to their prince. And—what squeezed Clarus’ heart the most—what they would be put through if they had to let the other die or come to harm to protect Noctis one day. He knew how soft his son’s heart was behind his hardened exterior. It broke his own to think of him going through that.

But that could wait. What ended up coming out of his mouth was, “Are you being safe?”

That turned out to be what it took for Ignis to break. He choked and dropped his face into a hand to hide. And, well, Clarus found himself smiling.

Gladio cleared his throat uncomfortably before pulling a hand out from under the sheets and holding up a colorful square of foil.

Clarus nodded a bit too much as his eyes peeled away to take in the rest of the room. The clothes Gladio left the house in that evening were thrown about the floor, but the ones that undoubtedly belonged to Ignis were folded in a neat pile, and his briefcase with confidential materials wasn't forgotten in a car somewhere while he had his fun but sat neatly on Gladio’s dresser.

And that put Clarus at ease. He nodded again with more confidence.

“Should I expect you for breakfast, Ignis?”

Ignis ran his hand down his face to cover his mouth. His words came out from behind it. “I wouldn't wish to put you out, sir.”

It was a clear way to avoid a possibly awkward morning, though whether it was for his sake or Clarus' was the question. And the fondness in Clarus' heart grew. “I’ll let Iris know she'll need to make some extra. You’re more than welcome to join us if you decide. And I know you’re busy, but if you’re available, the three of us are having a family weekend. I wouldn’t mind if you joined us as you're able.”

He turned away, beginning to give their privacy back. His smile faltered. “There will have to be an official discussion about this with the royal council now that I know, but trust that as far as I can, I’ll be on your side. Both of you.”

And he shut the door.

When he flicked the hall lights back off, he stopped to catch his breath from the torrent of thoughts running across his mind. While standing there, he overheard the two men he'd left behind.

"If only I'd known that's what it took for you to admit we're serious," Ignis' amused voice said.

There was a loud groan and flop into the mattress, "I was hoping to make the moment a bit more romantic."

Clarus shook his head. As he started back to his room, he heard one last, "Hm. Regardless, as much as I enjoy being fueled entirely by context clues, might I ask what this rule is that he was on about?"

It wasn’t until Clarus was back in his own room, sitting on the edge of his bed, that he could finally think everything through. After several minutes, he laughed and dropped his face into his hands. When they fell away, a fond smile was left behind.

He had basically just given them his blessing. Because, even with time to consider it, he couldn't think of anyone better than Ignis to accept into the family if they got to that point.

When he turned out the light, he found he was looking forward to seeing them both at breakfast. It would be nice, filling the place with more warmth as the manor provided them with a safe place to explore their relationship more freely, away from prying eyes and gossip. And this time, when the occasional muffled sound made it to his ears, he let out a resigned sigh and turned over to go to sleep.