A/N: Reading Ginny’s recent reblog kinda inspired me to write a story for them as well. Tickletober is over and we’re looking back to a month full of awesome works. I hope you all enjoyed it just as much as I did~ Number 31 - Rest - of @vqler's Tickletober prompt list of 2025 ft. Noctis, Prompto, Ignis and Gladio from Final Fantasy XV.
Words: 1,145 words under the cut
The campsite was quiet that late morning, the fire from the night before burned down to embers, and the desert sun was already creeping high into the sky. Gladio and Ignis were outside the tent, finishing their breakfast and reviewing their plans for the day. The only problem was that their prince still hadn’t emerged.
Noctis had a habit of sleeping late, but this was pushing it - even for him. “Should we wake him?” Ignis asked, stirring the pot absently as he peered toward the tent. Gladio shrugged. “He’ll come out when he’s ready… or when his stomach starts growling loud enough.”
Prompto, however, wasn’t satisfied with that answer. His camera hung around his neck, and his bright eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned. “Or… we could wake him up ourselves.” Both Ignis and Gladio raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh no,” Ignis said flatly, immediately recognizing that mischievous tone, “what exactly are you planning, Prompto?”
“C’mon, Specs,” Prompto laughed, “it’s the middle of the day! He can’t just keep snoozing like that! And besides…” his grin grew wider as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got the perfect plan.” Gladio leaned back against a crate, smirking. “This ought to be good.” Without another word, the blonde ducked into the tent.
Inside, the air was warm and filled with the soft sound of Noctis’s steady breathing. The prince was curled up in his sleeping bag, dark hair a mess, his arm thrown lazily over his eyes to block out the sunlight that slipped through the cracks in the fabric. One foot had slipped free of the covers, pale and completely unguarded.
Prompto’s grin turned devilish. “Rise and shine, Your Highness,” he whispered, before lightly dragging a finger down the sole of Noctis’s exposed foot. Noctis twitched, his toes curling, a muffled grunt escaping from under his arm the second skin met skin. Prompto bit back a laugh, doing it again with two fingers this time, slowly skimming across the arch of his foot.
“Hhh- heh quit it…” Noctis groaned, shifting but still refusing to open his eyes. “Aw, come on Noct! You can’t just sleep the day away!” Prompto teased, this time wiggling all five fingers against the bottom of the ravenhead’s foot. The prince jolted with a snort, his eyes flying open. “Promp- hah! StoHohop thaHahat!”
But Prompto only laughed, leaning closer and scribbling both hands along Noctis’s sides now that he was stirring. “Nope! Not until you’re awake!” Noctis tried to roll away, but Prompto was relentless, tickling at the sensitive spots just above his hips. Noctis’s quiet groans turned into muffled laughter, his face half-buried in his pillow.
“Pfft- Promp- e-eHehnough!” he barked between chuckles, twisting around. Prompto beamed, triumphant. “See? That’s the sound of a guy who’s definitely awake now!” But before he could continue his attack, Noctis suddenly shot a hand out, grabbing Prompto by the wrist and yanking him down onto the bedroll.
In one swift move, the prince rolled them both so that Prompto was trapped beneath him, squirming in surprise. “W-Whoa- hey, hey!” Prompto squeaked, his eyes widening in surprise. Noctis gave a sleepy smirk, his voice low and rough from just waking. “You asked for it…”
Before the other could wriggle free, Noctis slipped his hands under the blonde’s arms and scribbled his fingers into the hollows of his armpits. “NO hhahhhahhahaha, N-NoHot fair!!” Prompto shrieked, thrashing but unable to push the heavier boy off. He kicked uselessly at the blankets, laughter spilling uncontrollably from him.
“Still think I should get up?” Noctis teased, leaning closer and wiggling his fingers faster. Prompto’s face turned pink as he tried to fight him off. “Y-Yes hhahahaha juHust st-stop!” The sound of their laughter carried outside, where Ignis sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Well, it appears Prompto has succeeded in waking him.”
“Sounds like it,” Gladio chuckled, “but the kid’s not gonna win this one alone.” Sure enough, Prompto’s frantic voice followed: “Gladio! Ignis! Hhahaha h-h-heHehlp meee!” That was all the invitation Gladio needed. He strode to the tent, pushing the flap open with a grin. “What’s all the racket in here?” Prompto’s eyes lit up like he’d been saved.
“Gladio! He’s tiHihckling meHehe! G-GeHeht him off!” Noctis glanced up lazily, still straddling Prompto, his fingers poised over his friend’s ribs. “Don’t you dare.” But the Shield only smirked, cracking his knuckles. “Sorry prince, you had your fun.” With that, he lunged, scooping Noctis up under the arms and dragging him back off Prompto.
The sudden motion left Noctis flailing, his shirt riding up slightly as Gladio easily pinned him against his chest. “Gotcha,” Gladio said smugly, then dug his fingers into Noctis’s sides. The other exploded with laughter, kicking and twisting in his friend’s hold. “N-Nohoho! Gladio, stahahap!” Prompto sat up, red-faced and panting, but quickly regained his grin.
“Payback time!” he cheered and dove forward to join in, skittering his hands over Noctis’s stomach while Gladio held him steady. The tent was filled with helpless laughter now, Noctis unable to fight both of them off at once. He tried shoving Prompto’s hands away, but Gladio’s grip was unshakable, leaving him vulnerable to every poke and scribble.
“Hahhhaha o-oHokay, okay! I’m up, I’m up!!” Noctis finally yelled between laughs. That was when Ignis finally stepped into the tent, arms crossed. “Gentlemen,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement, “do try not to collapse the tent.” Prompto glanced at him, still giggling. “We’re just waking him up! Wanna help?”
Ignis shook his head. “I believe the two of you have it well in hand.” “Not for long,” Gladio rumbled with a grin, shifting his hold so that Noctis had just enough wiggle room to grab Prompto again. In the chaos, both of them tumbled sideways, dragging Gladio down with them. Suddenly all three were caught in a pile, laughter erupting from every direction.
“Noct, let- haha leHet go!” Prompto squeaked. “Gladio, moHove your elbow- hahahaha,” Noctis gasped. “You’re all hopeless,” Ignis muttered, but his voice carried fondness more than annoyance. Eventually, Gladio pulled back, letting Noctis catch his breath. Prompto collapsed beside him, grinning ear to ear despite his disheveled hair.
Noctis sat up slowly, still chuckling as he rubbed his eyes. “You guys are the worst…” “And you,” Ignis reminded pointedly, “are finally awake. Which was the entire purpose.” Prompto stuck his tongue out playfully. “See? Mission accomplished!” Noctis gave him a flat look but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Next time,” he warned, “I’m locking the tent.”
Gladio laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, prince.” Outside, the day stretched warm and bright, their laughter lingering in the air like an echo of camaraderie. Noctis may not have wanted to wake up, but surrounded by his friends, it was hard to stay grumpy for long.
final fantasy xv | polyship roadtrip | words: 5,073 | commission for @tickleraptorss ♥
Ignis is the type of man who boasts a readiness for anything ; breaching enemy lines for a combat operation or practicing a recipe until he has perfected every single ingredient in the dish before serving it to his loves. It’s become something of a skill truly, but with every skill, comes a price to pay. In Ignis’ case, due to the fact that he, Prompto, Gladio, and Noctis were on the run from Niflheim and could rarely catch a break between dropships of mechanized soldiers or wild beasts harboring hunger, deep sleep was a luxury he simply couldn’t afford. He’s always been a light sleeper though, ever since he was a child, so achieving REM wasn’t something that he sought after when it was time to rest. No, Ignis practically embodied the phrase: sleep with one eye open.
Tonight was no different. He’s become used to the sounds of the forest and the low, ethereal hum of the haven that they settled their shelter upon. It was when his ears pricked to the noise of a slight shuffling next to him, followed by a small murmur of something that Ignis couldn’t readily decipher, when his body fully stirred awake. Noctis is laid beside his frame, and Ignis could tell thereafter that the mumbling was leaking from him ⎯ what ends up catching the royal advisor by surprise, is the fact that the next thing he recognizes is the sound of Noctis giggling. Yes, giggling . With his toes curling and his knees tucked up towards his chest underneath the blanket he and Ignis shared. He halts his movements, observing the softly cackling prince with an expression painting over in a twinge of amusement.
Soon enough, the gentle, huffy laughter provoked both Gladio and Prompto to rise from their slumber. Sluggishly, the two of them met eyes before shifting those tired glances to Ignis, who held but a single digit to his lips and gestured down with his own sight. They follow the signal and after processing the fact that Noctis was giggling and fidgeting in his sleep, obviously experiencing quite the tickle dream, neither Prompto or Gladio could find it within themselves to be cross about being awakened so early. Additionally, no one wanted to rouse Noctis from his dream either. Almost as if telepathically, when they all locked gazes with one another again, they shared the same plan: they would make their sweet prince pay for waking them up a different way.
Dawn breaks free over the horizon, and three out of the four travelers rise to meet the sun. They bathe in its rays as each individual occupies himself with something: Ignis moves to prepare their breakfast, Gladio indulges himself on a morning run near the lake, and Prompto ( deeming himself as the official “Noctis Waker-Upper” ) drags a semi-uncooperative prince out from the shelter of the tent, where he slaps himself down into a chair beside the fold up table. Ignis tsks at him, because he simply won’t tolerate such laziness, and assigns Noctis and Prompto to set the table while he finishes the last bit of cooking. They do so with minimal rebellion, and once Gladio returns from his run, they all sit down to enjoy breakfast together. The conversation begins with Noctis teasing Gladio about sweating up the breakfast table and ends with Prompto snapping a quick photo of Gladio wrestling Noctis into a headlock.
With stomachs full of delicious sustenance and their campsite properly packed back into the Regalia, Noctis nearly chokes when Gladio abruptly inquires of him, “So, what were you dreamin’ about last night, Noct?”
“ ⎯⎯ Dunno. Can’t really remember it, I guess.” Noctis replies in a dry tone, attempting to conceal the underlying anxiety beginning to bubble within the pit of his gut. Why was Gladio asking him this? Sure, there were times where the four of them would discuss the occurrences of their dreams, but this was so out of the blue. On top of that, Gladio singled only him out. It couldn’t be that he…?
“Yeah? ‘Cause, to me, it sounded like it was quite the fun dream.”
Oh. No. Unable to oppose the paint of blossom pink that slowly spreads across the apples of his cheeks, it doesn’t take long for Noctis to realize his fate. If Gladio figured out that he was indulging in a tickle dream last night, then that means… Ignis and Prompto know the same. There’s no way they wouldn’t know!
“Eh ⎯ maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” Noctis almost shudders out, exhaling in a manner more shaky than he had desired, with all the intention to remain aloof to Gladio’s teasing tonality. “Like I said, can’t remember.”
His tallest boyfriend gave a mere shrug, and settled into his usual seat in the back of the Regalia. Noctis hoped and prayed to every God who’s name he could recall in that moment, that this entire embarrassing situation would be laid to rest once they were back on the road. But the moment his glance met Gladio’s as he approached the empty seat next to him, he knew his taunts weren’t quite finished yet. Goosebumps raised along the flesh of the prince’s arms, and before Prompto could tread closer to the passenger side door, Noctis grabs him by the wrist and tugs him in close.
“Hey,” He greets him with vocals barely above a whisper, as if Gladio were listening to their conversation intently. “Could you, uh.. Could you switch with me? Just for today?”
The blond blinks, curiosity spreading across his features like a brush across a canvas. “Switch with you? But, Noct, you know I always call shotgun! Plus, I need the leg room. And I get car sick sometimes if I sit in the back seat.”
“Wha⎯⎯ you have literally never told me any of that before.”
“I have too! Besides, you’ve never asked to be in the passenger seat before, so why do you want it now all of a sudden?”
“I⎯! Because! Uh…” He tries to wrack his brain for a viable excuse to use, but nothing except the truth comes to mind. Swallowing in a dry throat, Noctis shoves his hands into his pockets, sapphire gaze no longer matching Prompto’s own. “⎯⎯ ‘Cause I… Gladio’s gonna be teasin’ me if I’m back there with him, I can already feel it. I damn well know you guys.. Heard me last night…!”
Trembling lips can no longer hold back the smirk forming, and Prompto gasps softly, acting as though he just now deciphered what Noctis is talking about. He leans in closer towards his royal love, pursing his lips as if he were about to kiss him, before he leans just an inch or so back, slaps a hand on his shoulder and goes: “No.~” With a turn of his heel, he circulates back to face the Regalia and hops much too gleefully into the passenger seat.
Noctis is cemented where he stands, struck dumb with disbelief. Did that seriously just happen? He’s never been the type to pull status, but right now, in this very second, Noctis heavily considered brandishing the prince of Lucis card with an order for Prompto to give him the front seat. He knows himself too well though… And, with little more than a passing glare, he slides into the back seat where Gladio sits and the smug grin etched along his lips is enough to dance a shiver down Noctis’ spine.
That wasn’t nearly the worst of the teasing that was to come. Gladio all but pretends to read his book, while taking any opportunity he can to poke or jab at Noctis at the same time, whether it be with a finger, his elbow, even his damn knee. The prince squirms against his ministrations, relying on every ounce of strength he can muster to deny Gladio the satisfaction of a reaction other than smacking at his prodding extremities. Ignis and Prompto spare informed glances to one another, a smirk adorning both of their features as they pretend to pay the two in the backseats no mind.
The biggest of the four finally ceases his taunting touches right before they make their first stop of the day: the gas station. They all exit the vehicle, Noctis fleeing perhaps a bit too quickly to give off a sense of normalcy, and into the small shop on the side he went, with the rest of his crew following behind. Noctis offers to pump the gas, leaving little room for opposition when he shoves some gil towards the shop owner and returns to the Regalia without Ignis so much as nodding in response. Prompto giggles slightly at the scene, before something soft and yellow catches his eye off to the side. He bends a knee down to observe what he’s seen and the smile across his lips spreads into a full grin. He picks the item up, cleans it off and pockets it for later, springing towards the door when Ignis calls for him to hurry and that they’re going on their way.
The prince is surprised when they hop back on the road again and Gladio doesn’t make the same moves as he did earlier. He’s leaving him alone for some reason, but Noctis doesn’t completely trust it. He can feel that he isn’t safe yet, there’s a subtle electricity in the air between the four of them that’s got goosebumps rising along his skin. Prompto is the one to break the silence, oceanic eyes seeking out Noctis’ in the rearview mirror.
“So, you really don’t remember your dream from last night?”
Noctis nearly chokes. Why is Prompto bringing it up now?! Of all the random ass conversations the blond tends to initiate during their car rides, he just had to press on with his stupid dream!
“No⎯..! No, like I said, I don’t remember anything from that dream. Why the hell are you guys so invested in it?”
“Well, ‘cause you were makin’ some pretty cute noises during it. You were twitching too, looooots of twitching & squirming.”
Shit. Noctis’ cheeks are beginning to redden against his better judgment, and suddenly, he begins to feel smaller than what he is. “I⎯⎯”
“Giggling too! There’s nothin’ wrong with all that, I was just curious about the details of it!”
“Th⎯! There’s nothin’ to say…! Just, leave it be.” He was going to explode. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, the swirling butterflies of anticipation that made his lips tremble and his knee shake. Something very prominent told him that they weren’t going to let this go. And truthfully… did he want them to?
Prompto chuckles a bit, but shrugs freckled shoulders and relaxes back against his seat. “Whatever you say, Noct.”
That was the last of that conversation, wherein a new topic is triggered by Ignis, something about the missions they had lined up for today that the prince has trouble paying much attention to. He’s much more preoccupied with the sensation of prickling warmth pooling underneath his flesh, all too similar to the feelings he’d experienced during his dream last night. He shoves his cheek into a gloved palm, sapphire sight meeting with the fleeting views of meadows and rock formations as they drive. He keeps his attention to the nature surrounding them, and sure enough, he eventually dozes.
“⎯⎯Ahah!” Is the small yelp that bursts from a previously slumbering Noctis, the culprit leaning above his form and adjusting his glasses.
“Good, that seems to have woken you up.” Ignis drawls, removing his hand from the prince’s side, slow enough so that Noctis could easily tell that Ignis had squeezed his side to jolt him awake from his nap.
“Y⎯Y’know you could’ve just shaken me or somethin’ right?” Noctis stutters out, still groggy and obviously tired, as he opens the car door and slides until booted soles hit the ground below. He throws his arms up to stretch his cramped muscles and nearly tumbles back inside the back seat of the Regalia when Ignis reaches to pinch at his side once more. “Hey! Ihihignis, cut it out!”
“I’m simply giving you extra aid in waking up; you still appear tired and we can’t have that right now, we have missions to complete.” The advisor responds with a matter of fact tonality, but the smirk playing at the corner of his lips speaks of underlying mischief.
“ Okay , o⎯okay, I’m awake now, alright?” Legs start carrying him off before he even finishes his sentence, knowing damn well that being alone with Ignis with that look can only spell trouble for him. Gladio and Prompto must’ve already gone on ahead and Noctis races to catch up with them, but he hears their boyfriend trailing not far behind him.
When they both catch up to the other two, they relay the information they discovered and all four begin their hunt for the target. Unfortunately for Noctis, Ignis’ cheeky little squeezes were all he needed for his focus to break apart and split itself between the mission and the ghost touches that still linger across his skin. Cobalt hair wisps as he shakes his head to rid himself of his distractions ⎯⎯ he can’t let it be known that their actions have snuck their way under his skin, not with a commission on the line.
And yet… that’s exactly what transpires.
The commission detailed a request to take down a coeurl that’s been nesting too close to the main road and harassing travelers and vendors making their way between towns. The foursome has fought their share of these tempest wildcats before, and though they’re certainly dangerous, if they focus on the task at hand and work together, the commission would be completed easy enough. That was supposed to be the case.
But, regrettably, the entire ordeal proves to be more difficult than need be. In the midst of battle, Noctis doesn’t notice the huge paw, ripe with sharp claws, moving to strike him down, until Ignis calls out to him, and grabs him by the hip and tugs him away just in time. Prompto fires two bullets, with one lodging into the coeurl’s leg and successfully tears the creature’s attention away from Noctis and Ignis. With Ignis’ hand still squeezing against his hip, the prince can only slightly nod when the taller inquires if he’s alright, teeth gnawing down on his bottom lip to refrain from releasing the goddamn yelp stuck in the hollow of his throat.
Seriously? Seriously?! He can’t possibly be this hypersensitive, not when they’re fighting a beast like this?! He could’ve been killed just now! Ignis saved him, and even though he’s since let him go to rejoin the battle, Noctis’ stomach is still preoccupied with the sensation of Ignis’ fingers digging into his hip..
His mind clarifies when he hears Gladio shout his name, warning him of the coeurl’s impending lunge towards his body. Noctis re-focuses, warps out of the way of the danger and then, after ricocheting off of a large nearby boulder, he summons his sword for a final strike and ends it with that blow. Panting slightly, he steps closer towards the slain beast to examine its form and make certain its truly deceased, with the others closing in as well. Noctis, however, steps a little too close to it, as the last few shockwaves pulse off of its frame and reach his upper body.
“Ah!” He jumps back, startled when something of a giggle rips from between his lips. The shocks were weak, much weaker than when the coeurl was alive and using full power, and the ticklish feeling that came with their touch left Noctis’ skin vibrating. His cheeks flush a petal pink, especially when he notices the small smirks each of his boyfriends don. Without another single word, he bends to pick up one of the whiskers dropped by the coeurl, shoves it into his jacket pocket, and immediately picks up the trail back to the regalia. The rest of the crew follows suit, chuckling a bit about how absolutely adorable that was.
After returning to their quest source, proving they’ve completed the deal and earning their reward, Prompto immediately asks if they can splurge a little for a hotel for the night. They’ve been camping for the better part of a week now, but with the heavy funds from the coeurl mission and roughing it out in the wilderness, they should have saved enough to afford a nice room at the hotel in Lestallum, and then some. Mulling it over, Ignis ultimately leaves the decision up to Noctis, who agrees rather easily. After all, a shower and a warm, soft bed sounded absolutely divine right now.
And, Noctis was right. Scrubbing a week’s worth of dirt and grime off of his body made it seem as though he could tackle any problem in the entire world. As soon as he gets dressed in fresh clothes, he makes it his personal mission to sink as far and as deep into the bed nearest to his person as possible, arms spread out across the surface of the blanket. He comes to regret that though, when Prompto leans towards him as he’s walking to the bathroom for his turn to shower, and pokes him a few times along the back of his waist. He relishes in the squeak that releases from his boyfriend, observing with glee as he jolts up and curls into himself. The blond giggles, until he catches Noctis with a look as though he were about to launch at him, and Prompto nearly slips as he flees into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
Noctis frowns at the shut door, huffing through his nostrils before he jolts once again after circulating around to see Ignis and Gladio standing in the entrance to the room, each one wearing their stupid little smirks well.
“Holy crap.. Maybe you wanna be a little quieter next time, you made so much noise comin’ in the room.” The sarcasm drips off of Noctis’ tone like a leaky faucet dripping water, but there’s a whirling sensation in the pit of his tummy that’s urging him to knock off the sass.
“Tch. Big words for someone as jumpy as you’ve been today.” Gladio rebuttals, recalling Noctis’ little stagger when the coeurl shocks tickled him.
“Honestly,” Ignis chimes in, slowly making his way further into the room to settle into one of the accent chairs near the bed that Noctis occupies, “You’ve got a lot of snark in your voice now, and it’s the first time I’ve heard you this confident all day. I wonder why that is, your highness.”
Noctis gulps, swallowing in an abruptly dry throat, and refuses to meet the other’s eyes. He can feel the heat of color painting his cheeks again, cursing his embarrassment under his breath.
“I⎯⎯” The prince begins, before Gladio interrupts him by joining him on the bed, meeting sapphire with intense honey brown.
“⎯I bet I could take a few educated guesses.” The broad swordsman continues, coiling an arm around Noctis’ middle and grinning when he feels the smaller male tense up, “Heh ⎯⎯ still jumpy, I see.”
Noctis nearly whines when Gladio’s breath trickles over the side of his neck, making a small oomph sound at the display of strength from his shield as he tugs Noctis up and against his chest from the weird, half curled, half sprawled out position over the blanket. Ignis joins after removing his shoes, and soon enough, seconds later, Prompto emerges from a steamy bathroom and pouts at the scene before his eyes. He complains about the cuddle pile occurring without him, but Gladio is quick to pull him into the embrace and silence his bellyaching. The four of them remain like this, enveloped in each other’s warmth and limbs and love, until Ignis catches Noctis fidgeting against him slightly, that dusting of roseate still prominent upon the skin of his cheeks.
Clearing his throat, Ignis speaks up with: “What’s the matter, Noct?”
“Nothin’.” His reply comes a little too fast, a little too breathless for any of his boyfriends to ignore.
“Are you suuuuure there’s nothing botherin’ you? There isn’t aaaaanything in this moment that you definitely want?” Prompto’s sing-song tone is enough to darken Noctis’ flush, because damnmit, there’s nothing better worse than being caught up in the predicament he’s in now. Astrals, he’s such an evil tease.
Noctis bites down on his bottom lip to force back the small squeak that dared to jump up his throat from Gladio shifting, his grip around his waist tightening, as though he were preparing for Noctis to attempt to flee or something. Warm breath finds his sensitive neck again, Gladio’s lips press to the shell of his ear and the prince nearly melts when he goes: “C’mon, what’s got you so flustered, your highness?”
This sucks. It sucks , it sucks , and it’s the best damn thing ever. He can’t remember the last time a situation was like this: being granted such taunting and embarrassing affections from each of his lovers , building Noctis up to the brim right before his boiling point. He hasn’t spilled over yet, hasn’t given in to the sensations overwhelming his body before they even do anything, but he’ll be damned if he isn’t close. Ignis seems to sense this, with his careful eyes and methodical gaze, so when his hand rises, and two fingers settle under Noctis’ chin ever so gently, turning his face to meet with Ignis’, Noctis’ visceral shudder blooms a smirk across Ignis’ lips.
“We aren’t going to do anything until you ask us to, my little prince. Consent is important, after all.”
Noctis curses under his breath and even his words wobble; of course , this is the turn he would take. He studies his advisor’s features and notes that he’s serious, he has no intention of allowing anyone to do so much as poke Noctis without a verbal agreement. Everyone seems to be on the same page too, even Gladio’s grip begins to loosen a bit. Pearly whites now worry against his lips, fighting an internal struggle on whether to give in or stay resilient and refuse. He weighs his options, and decides there’s more cons situated on the side of refusal than if he were to do as Ignis instructs. His stomach is performing backflips and he’s already squirming, succumbing to further abashment the longer he waits to deliver a decision.
Eventually, after a few more minutes of grappling with his thoughts and desires, the prince finally opens his mouth to speak, albeit his words come out hushed.
“Y… yeah, I .. ⎯⎯” He begins, swallowing the lump in his throat to continue ( everyone’s eyes soften as he goes on, he really is too cute ) , “I want… that.”
“Y’want what, exactly?” Gladio urges him, gently, his own vocals barely above a whisper.
“To ⎯⎯ .. to be … tickled ,” The last word leaks out like a dripping faucet, quick and quiet, and almost completely shoved to the side when Noctis keeps talking, “But..! Uh… I want it, kinda.. Gentle. Not rough or fast-paced, like usual, just…” He trails off, growing silent with butterflies, but his boys understand him well enough.
“As the prince wishes.” Prompto calls out, affection poured into each word, as he leans up to plant a soft kiss to Noctis’ cheek.
The three of them take a position somewhere against Noctis’ body: Gladio holding Noctis from behind, Ignis at his front, and Prompto at the lower half of his body. There aren’t any more words for now, it’s time to speak with actions. Ignis begins with digits spidering along the plane of Noctis’ stomach, delicate touches just like he asked for. He squirms, but still remains mostly silent, sapphire sight hidden by the lids as he closes them. He can’t fight back the trembling smile that spreads across his lips though, outing his ticklishness despite there being no laughter yet.
Gladio decides to join in then, raking his nails ever so gently along his sides, and that’s when tiny, breathless giggles bubble up and out of the royal. His limbs fidget against the sensations surging throughout his frame, contending against the urge to keep them out of his boyfriends’ way or protect the sensitive areas they’re targeting.
“We’re barely even touchin’ you and you’re already giggling your head off.” Gladio comments with a grin, bright and loving and just as teasing. His fingers pick up the pace just the slightest bit and when Noctis attempts to bite on his lip for the third or fourth time that day to stifle his laughter, it lasts all of about twenty-two seconds.
“Could it be that it tickles even more when our touch is more merciful? Is that it, Noct? Does it tickle more? ”
Ignis knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly the right buttons to push. Noctis is so weak to the way Ignis speaks, especially in moments like these, and it shows from the way he tries to hide his face in the older’s shoulder. Ignis tsks, and removes one hand from his stomach to lift Noctis’ visage back up, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“None of that now, my prince. We want to see that sweet face of yours, isn’t that right gentlemen?”
“Heheh, yep, no hiding, Noct~! That wouldn’t be very fair to us, huh? Not when we’re bein’ such good boyfriends and giving you what you want.” Noctis swears that Prompto’s been the worst out of the trio today, and he’s definitely making plans for some well deserved payback some time soon.
For now, his focus on thoughts of vendetta are shattered once he registers Prompto softly clawing at his knee caps, and Noctis’ new thoughts consist of wondering why it tickles so much worse when there’s minimal pressure applied to it.
“Ehe⎯! C-CraHAhap..!”
“Your knees aren’t usually a bad spot for you; you must’ve been really pent up, huh?”
“NohohohOHO!”
“Lying’s not gonna get you anywhere, gigglebug.” Ignis chimes in, and the urge for Noctis to hide his face again is strong as ever, the nickname renewing a flush of red down his neck.
The volume of his giggles have heightened considerably, especially so when Prompto begins to alternate between his knees and stroking at the soles of his socked feet. He’s nearly kicked him twice already ( Noctis has determined that soft tickles are the devil in disguise ) and as such, he’s lost the privilege of allowing his legs to be easily maneuverable. Prompto’s moved to settle on top of them, bent over at the waist so he can still reach his feet and Noctis is inwardly grateful that Prompto doesn’t weigh that much.
Still, he’s more than distracted by what’s occurring with his upper body. In addition to Gladio’s fingers messing with his sides, he’s taken it upon himself to make sure that the prince’s ears and neck weren’t left out. Nibbles and kisses scatter all over his skin, from the base of his neck, to the side of it, and the shell of his ears. Ignis occupies himself with his tummy and ribs, stroking the flesh between the bones, and even bending forward to grace his belly with a few kisses that make Noctis snort. Not a single touch, or kiss, or nibble advances above minimal pressure and it’s just about the most flustering thing Noctis has ever experienced in his life.
Not to mention that every new reaction he gives them, whether it be a squeak, a wiggle, higher pitch or volume, they coo at him for it. Whisper sweet nothings to him, comment on how adorable he is, and tease him for being so damn ticklish that even touches as easygoing as these have him unraveling by the seams. And they’re right, because Noctis is so red, so reactive, and his body feels like it’s got low power electric currents running along every inch of his skin, he’s getting intoxicated on the sensations of it all.
He doesn’t even realize at first that Prompto’s went and swapped his fingers for feathers ⎯⎯ chocobo feathers to be exact. Noctis has no clue where he’d even gotten the feathers from , nor when he actually got up to grab them, but what he did know was that the feathers were absolutely twice as bad as fingers.
“Che⎯⎯! Cheheheater..!” Noctis accuses, making Prompto grin and roll his eyes.
“You never said I couldn’t use feathers! Besides, how’s this cheating? I’m still givin’ you what you want, babe!” And for emphasis, he swipes the tip of the feather over the tops of Noctis’ feet, before sawing it in between his toes and Noctis loses it all over again.
He’s lost it multiple times tonight, but every new spike of ticklishness caused a spot or tactic change brings a wide smile to his face, basking in the warmth of the tenderness and care his lovers show him. He’s surrounded by a shower of adoration, he can feel it with each caress, each word uttered, the way they observe him with a fondness unmatched. Just for tonight, any worries or problems they’ve had to encounter in the last few weeks are shoved out of Noctis’ mind. The only thing that reigns in his thoughts, is how lucky he is to be so blessed with this kind of appreciation, this kind of amour.
They continue their ministrations like this, gentle tickles and soft, blossoming laughter, well into the night. Until Noctis can no longer access his internal vocabulary to form words and the only method he can use to signal that he’s truly had enough is when his laughter goes silent and he cloaks his features by burying into Ignis’ shoulder once again. Slowly, all fingers and feathers cease their movements, permitting Noctis to simply pant and catch his breath. His body practically melts into the limbs of his companions, pliant and content and glowing with hazy glee. He accepts kisses from all of them, one by one, followed by one giant kiss with all three of them positioned at a part of his face.
He doesn’t think he could be any happier at this moment, as the evening calms down with the four of them, and Noctis begins to drift off listening to their heartbeats collide into one. A series of lazy good nights and i love you’s lead into Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto following in Noctis’ sleepy pursuit.
final fantasy xv | ignoct | words: 1165 | req from @tickleraptorss
With no mission to carry out and no leads just yet of where their journey will traverse them next, the squad has settled their bearings in Lestallum, where they’ve agreed to spend the next few nights bunkered down in their local hotel. This was joyous news to both Noctis and Ignis, who’d been itching for warm, comfortable sleeping quarters and some privacy for themselves; no offense to Gladio’s passion for roughing it out in the wild, but Ignis has had quite enough of the larger man’s snoring and more than enough of Prompto’s sleeping squirming. To have Noctis all to himself, and vise versa, was a true gift that he plans on taking full advantage of.
The pitter patter of rain is a comforting background to the mindless lull of repose shared between the prince and his advisor. Noctis is settled against the width of Ignis’ chest, curled in a cozy, loose ‘c’ next to the taller’s frame. Within one of Ignis’ hands is a mini book that’s captured the majority of his attention, whilst its counterpart partakes in lazy strokes up and down the expanse of Noctis’ back. Tingles dance up and down along the length of his spine with each of the other’s movements, and at first, it’s completely soothing, sluggishly drifting him off towards slumber ⎯ that is, until Ignis decides he wants to feel bare skin and those slender digits snake underneath his shirt.
“Hhn…” A small, huffy sigh bleeds through his nose, but he remains relaxed for the most part. A few minutes pass and Noctis is teetering on the brim between asleep and awake, and just as he’s about to fully cross over into dreamland, those damned fingers begin to swipe and slide across the dip of his lower back and even go as far as to brush his hip. Now, Noctis is awake. He’s awake and fighting back the urge to giggle into the fabric of Ignis’ shirt, because no, it does not tickle, and the last thing he desires is for Ignis to believe that it does. A single eyelid raises and steals a glance up towards his boyfriend, who doesn’t seem to be paying him much mind, still absorbed by whatever is in the contents of that book.
The prince falls for the mistake of relaxing once again, because as soon as he closes his eyes and sinks back into Ignis, he’s got those fingers playing at his skin again; and what’s worse? He’s drawing aimless little circles and patterns, and moving to further spaces. It’s becoming increasingly hard to delay the giggles that have bubbled up from his chest, on top of being sleepy and forced awake by the ticklish sensations. He’s even beginning to squirm just a little bit here and there, and when Ignis accidentally strokes over a particularly sensitive area that’s just above where Noctis’ back dip starts, a tiny whine leaks free from between his lips and he can feel the other’s actions cease.
Shit.
Ignis’ gaze is only on him for a moment, brow rising quizzically, as if pondering the reason why Noctis produced such a sound. It’s true that he was thoroughly engaged in his story, but after a second of contemplation, it comes so clearly. He retains a poker face however, and pretends as though he didn’t just hear his prince expose his ticklishness; this new situation will grant him miles more entertainment than his book. Noctis nearly jolts as those fingers re-animate and return to dancing over the sensitive skin of his lower back, but god, it feels different now.. More deliberate?
The chef’s definitely digging a little bit more than he was earlier and those previously smooth, airy strokes have evolved into something closer to little kneads and rolls against his skin, and oh my god, does it tickle way worse now. At this point, Noctis is definitely squirming, lips twitching up at the corners despite how much he’s battling against the laughter building up within him. Ignis shifts his arm so that it coils around the smaller male, keeping him close and taut to his own body while continuing to now, purposefully tickle him.
“Ig⎯Ignihihis⎯” A giggle of the other’s name breaks free and Noctis instantly regrets speaking at all, because as soon as Ignis takes note of that damn giggle, he sets the book down to the bedside table and circulates so that he’s facing Noctis a little better.
“Yes?” The tone of his response is almost coy, as if he still hasn’t any idea of what he’s doing to his love. The other hand comes slithering forth and settles on Noctis’ front, dishing out spidery tickles to his stomach that not only fully awaken the prince, but ignite a burst of giggles and full bodied wriggling from him.
“Ihihihihignihihihs⎯! Nohohoho! Plehehehease!” His pleas are fractured by his laughter that ascends in pitch when Ignis’ fingers begin to migrate between stomach and ribs and the digits torturing his back haven’t let up on their assault either. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place, his own hands gripping onto Ignis’ wrists in an attempt to force those deadly fingers off of him, which only makes Ignis dig in harder and worsen the sensitivity of his skin.
“No? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak coherently, your highness, I can’t understand you with all of that laughing.” Noctis’ cheeks light up with a soft shade of pink, attempting to send a glare at Ignis, but all Ignis equates him to is a flustered, angry kitten.
“StaAHAHahp⎯! I⎯I mehehehehean ihihihit!” Tears sting at the corners of his squeezed shut eyes, his body quickly losing its strength to fight back and slowly growing pliant against the sheets.
“Is that order?” There’s a teasing depth to Ignis’ voice that creates another flare of a blush upon Noctis’ cheeks, but he’s very quick to nod almost too vigorously, clenching down on his teeth to will his laughter down and permit him to properly speak.
“YehehEHEHES! Thahaha⎯Thahahat’s an order!” The magic words were spoken and so it shall be; Ignis finally halts all of his fingers’ movements and gently removes them from his boyfriend, who in turn goes limp against the bed, panting for oxygen.
“That was enjoyable.” It’s the casual manner in which he says it that has Noctis glaring at him once again, but the grin half cocked along his lips is evidence enough that he agrees with Ignis’ appraisal.
“Ass.” Comes the playful insult as Noctis moves to sit up for a moment, granting the taller a soft peck on the lips before he returns to laying into him. “As punishment for your crimes, you have to provide me with body heat while I nap.”
Ignis nearly allowed a laugh of his own right then and there; spoken like a true cat. But he does as requested, holding Noctis within the confines of his arms while the prince finally lulls off to sleep, uninterrupted by wandering fingers.
final fantasy xv | ignoct | words: 3487 | commission from @tickleraptorss ♥.
Ugh. How Ignis managed to rise just as the sun ascends into the sky, every morning, Noctis will never fathom. He’s never been a morning person himself; the afternoon suits him just fine, sometimes even stretching into the evening if he’s had a long night prior (though Ignis will always advocate against Noctis staying up too early and waking up too late). Despite his aversion to waking up before the dawn hits the horizon, Ignis had requested a favor from him and the prince had already agreed to aid him in his breakfast ventures. His muscles tremble as his body stirs itself to motion, sluggishly sitting himself up, a groan slipping between slightly chapped lips. A yawn rouses from within, limbs reaching for heights with a stretch and another accompanying groan.
Cobalt sight glances to the side to take in Prompto's still slumbering frame and a singe of jealousy sparks. Maybe he should've told Ignis no, he's still tired, but at the same time, Noctis does appreciate whenever Ignis desires to make time for just the two of them; it's different now, ever since they entered into a more romantic relationship. Butterflies swirl within the pit of Noctis' stomach at the thought of their newfound intimacy and that realization animates him, waking him up even more.
Finally departing from the tent that's truly, much too small for four grown men, a palm rises to rub at the back of his neck and massage out any kinks from sleeping. Noctis looks around and much to his surprise, Ignis is nowhere to be seen. Confusion settles against his features, walking along the surface of the haven until he hears a pained, frustrated noise coming from below. Making his way down the path from the top of the flat boulder, Noctis finally spots his boyfriend, disheveled and clearly dealing with distress, yet somehow, Ignis still comes off sophisticated about it. It’s a talent that both irritates and attracts the prince all the same.
“Noct!” He cries as soon as the other comes into view, agitation prominent in every contour of his visage.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?!” Concern begins to churn in his stomach, fingers twitching with the aura of his armiger, ready to go should there be a fight of any kind.
Ignis pants a bit, as if he were already out of breath for whatever reason. “It’s not me… It’s my spectacles.”
Noctis has to take a moment and process that word spectacles, because honestly, it’s too damn early for this. “⎯Your glasses? Well, how come they’re not on your face?”
“I was making ready to leave camp so I could gather some ingredients from a nearby deposit when a black chocobo sidled up, snatched my specs from over my nose and bolted!”
Noctis doesn’t even attempt to disguise his obvious mirth at the situation, clutching at his stomach as a few giggles bubbled up to the surface at Ignis’ expense. “Oh, man, that’s hilarious!” He sighs in amusement once his laughter dies down, but the look his love shoots him proves that Ignis absolutely does not share in his merriment.
“This is no laughing matter!” His reply is sharp like a blade and it’s enough to make Noctis a little quieter, “We must retrieve them at once!”
“At once? ⎯Like, right now?” Noctis’ tone is incredulous, but he can see Ignis means every syllable of what he said from yet another apical stare towards him. Guess breakfast is going to be late this morning.
“That foul fowl trotted off in that direction. Let’s move. Sorry to drag you along.” Though there was a chance he’d piss Ignis off even more than he already was, he doesn’t hold back the small chuckle that comes from the other’s statement; even when he’s angered, he manages to make a joke, albeit most likely unintentionally. They start their trek in search of the feathered thief with Ignis leading the way, keen memory guiding him in the direction the chocobo sped off in.
“You’ve got a spare pair, don’t ya’? Just use those.”
Noctis can see Ignis shake his head at the suggestion, as if what he said was completely out of the question.
“And let a perfectly good pair go to waste as a chocobo’s trinket? I think not!” The advisor chides, and Noctis is nearly taken aback by how fixed Ignis’ tone is. Confusion breathes onto his features once more as to why Ignis was so set on this particular pair of glasses, especially when he still owns a pair, but he figures it’s best to abstain from continuing to question the older male.
“Uh⎯okay?”
The conversation halts there as the two advance on their tread, a silence falling between them that settles in tune with the sounds of the wilderness around them. Although he’ll never truly be a morning person, there are some few instances where Noctis can appreciate the benefits of being an early riser. Sometimes. The duo happen upon a clearing with a couple of ponds, and after scaling down the minuscule cliffs, Ignis gestures with a tilt of his head and a cry of “We have the culprit. There!”
Noctis follows his gaze and sets his own sights on the criminal avian, breathing out a tiny sigh of relief. “Finally. So what now, Sergeant No-Specs?”
The man in question shoots Noctis a look, similar to his earlier visual reprimand, but replies with “I brought along a secret weapon just in case: a handful of gysahl greens.”
Noctis nods, displaying no surprise that Ignis already had a master plan to retrieve his glasses back. “Nice. So, how do you wanna do this?”
“We lure the bird this way,” He begins, eyes migrating between Noctis and their target, “While it gorges itself on greens, you grab the glasses.”
The plan seemed simple enough and after a bit more of ironing out the details, it was ready to be set in motion. Ignis reveals the treat from his back pocket and makes his way calmly, and slowly, over to the chocobo, making certain that the greens were in full view. Once the chocobo had deemed that Ignis wasn’t a threat and noticed the gysahl greens lying a few feet away from him, it bent at its neck and indeed began to devour its little gift. Noctis took this as an opportunity to seek out the glasses, discovering their location at the root of a giant tree trunk. He wasn’t far from it, but it was enough of a distance that proved he needed to be careful if he wanted to grab the glasses without being seen by the feathered thief.
It definitely took some doing: a little bit of stealth, a little bit of sweet talking, but Noctis soon made it to the tree trunk and swiped up the glasses, running off towards the hill where he signaled to Ignis that his mission was a success. A smile begins to find purchase along Ignis’ lips, glancing at the chocobo who, after finishing its meal, shook out its feathers and sped off in the opposite direction. Ignis scoffed some as he ascended from his kneeled position and joined Noctis at the base of the slope.
“Not so much as a thank you for the greens.” A neatly sculpted brow raises at Noctis, who’s now silently staring at Ignis’ face. “Ah… Something the matter?”
“Just realized I’d never really seen your face without your glasses all that much. I’m getting a good look while I can.”
That smile deepens, if only slightly, a hand posing upon his hip. “⎯Yes, well, without them, I could hardly make out yours, but we saw our way through it. And now they’re back where they belong. Thank you, Noct.”
“Yeah, I’m good like that. So, do I get a reward?” The prince’s tonality comes off teasing, but he’s also half serious, sauntering closer to Ignis with his arms crossing over the width of his chest. “Like, getting to go back to bed, and taking you with me?”
The smile that Ignis wears starts transforming into more of a smirk, his hand departing his hip in favor of both hands settling along the curve of Noctis’. “Is that what my little prince desires?”
A shiver dances the length of Noctis’ spine, as it does whenever Ignis drops a pet name on him. As embarrassing as it is, and you’ll catch him as a cold body before he admits it, little prince is one of his favorites. Ignis knows this full well and takes proper advantage whenever the situation permits him to. He leans in, lids closing halfway over those beautiful jade eyes of his, and while Noctis is ready for a kiss, Ignis’ lips never connect. He remains a centimeter away from him, only close enough for their breaths to intermingle, and god, it’s so unfair. Noctis holds back a whine, but coils his upper limbs ‘round the taller’s neck, insinuating that he’s waiting.
“I don’t know if you deserve a reward for laughing at my plight earlier.” Ignis’ fingers twitch as they travel up to Noctis’ sides, clutching at the flesh there and Noctis’ reaction is an instant squeak, his arms loosening their hold around the other’s neck because holy shit, this is now a problem.
“W⎯Wait, Ignis, I helped you get your glasses back⎯⎯” Noctis’ attempt to deter Ignis is feeble at best, knowing damn well Ignis isn’t listening to him.
“That’s true. But not before you showed your obvious glee at the situation of them being stolen by that bird. I wonder, how are those joyous feelings now? Do you still think something’s funny?” Those slim digits resting on Noctis’ sides animate into soft, spidering tickles, immediately sending Noctis into a fit of giggles, his body squirming against Ignis.
“Noooohohoho! I⎯⎯N-Nohohohothing’s funny!” He manages to choke out, a wide grin spreading along his lips that makes Ignis’ heart flutter gently within the hollows of his chest.
“If nothing’s funny, then why are you laughing?”
Noctis doesn’t find a way to respond, giggles bubbling from the pit of his stomach reigning over his vocabulary skills.
“Could it be because I’m tickling you? Is that it? Are you ticklish, my prince?” Those teases shoot out like bullets and send small waves of electricity coursing through Noctis, amplified by Ignis’ wandering fingers that have ascended towards his ribs. His laughter raises in volume with those evil fingers, but therein comes a defiant shake of cobalt tresses, teeth biting down on his bottom lip.
“⎯⎯Nohohoho! I’m⎯nohohohot!” He’s adorable, Ignis thinks, as those soft, sweeping tickles evolve into digging strokes between the bones of his ribs and along the sides of them, promptly causing Noctis’ knees to buckle. Ignis anticipates the drop of weight against him, almost as if Noctis were going to use that to escape, but he should know better. The advisor delivers a strong string of squeezes to his boyfriend’s ribs in different places, rewarded with squeals and even more squirming as Ignis relocates Noctis to the ground below them. He slides up and straddles either side of Noctis’ legs, though takes precise caution to keep his weight off of the younger’s bad leg.
“You’re not? That doesn’t sound quite right; not with how much hilarity you seem to be indulging in. Look at how wide that smile is. You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you, your highness?”
Damn him. Damn Ignis for knowing exactly what to say and how to say it to fluster Noctis until the end of time. It never fails to cause the sensation of hundreds of butterflies making pirouettes within his stomach, the surface of his skin painted over with pink and heat. Teeth worry over his bottom lip with feeble attempts at disguising the mirth that effortlessly bubbles out of him, but to no avail: Ignis is simply too skilled at turning him into royal silly putty.
“I-Ihihihignis! St⎯Stohohohop!” Comes his ailing plea, his laughter kicking up a few notches when those digits traverse the expanse of his torso, switching from squeezes along his sides, to prods and brushes of the tips over each rib. These sensations are utterly relentless, driving the poor prince into louder, higher pitched mirth that causes Ignis’ heart to swell even larger with love. There is nary a sight he finds more precious than of his beloved highness engaged in glee and happiness, enjoying himself beyond measure, even if he inclines to deny such feelings. Ignis knows him better than anyone, having been the first of the group to interact with Noctis at a young age, and so he can admit with confidence that his ability to read the other has well developed over the years.
“Stop? We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” His tone holds taunt in an almost incredulous manner, momentarily halting his tickling to reach over to the side of their physiques and grab something that Noctis can’t quite make out ⎯⎯ not until Ignis pulls back fully, and Noctis’ squinting eyes immediately widen to the size of dinner plates.
“Is that a⎯?”
“⎯A gift that our little avian friend left behind for us,” There’s a fresh, dangerous smirk tugging at the corners of Ignis’s lips as his fingers twirl a large, black feather between them. “Shall we put it to good use?”
Noctis gulps silently, the tanned color of his skin regressing to a ghostly white. That smirk in combination with that swirling feather meant that Noctis was about to meet his maker, and yet… There’s a swell of anticipation, of excitement, dawning on him and though he’s already squirming and wriggling under the threat of that feather, he isn’t fighting to flee much at all.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes, darling.”
Darling, huh? A new flush of heat spreads along the apples of Noctis’ cheeks, restoring color to his previously washed out skin. Ignis isn’t one to truly utilize pet names for Noctis outside of the two of them being alone together, so even though his boyfriend is about to wreck his shit, Noctis couldn’t help but to appreciate when Ignis does refer to him romantically.
It’s a swift snap back to reality when Noctis feels the sensation of his shirt riding up, stopping just short of his chest. Ignis doesn’t even grant him a minute to process the situation before he feels that all too soft feather dragging up the contours of his abs, in a squiggly line all of the way up to where his shirt is bunched. His reaction is instantaneous; squeaky giggles discover the air, mouth agape as he squirms under the feather’s light touch. Ignis draws circles with the tip of the damn thing, never settling in one place for too long to keep the prince guessing and on edge.
“Ihihignis! Plehehehease! No⎯NohohOHOHO, NOT THEHEHERE⎯!” It seems the royal advisor’s struck gold after migrating down to Noctis’ stomach, particularly torturing his navel by dipping the feather in, swirling about, removing it, and then repeating the process over again. If Noctis hadn’t been fighting back earlier, the struggle was certainly real now, because the delicate strokes inside of his belly button coupled with the grazes and swirls over his stomach were absolutely maddening.
There was something so precise and evil about light tickling, nigh methodical in a way that Ignis seemed to thrive on. Rougher, harder tickles had their advantages when it comes to most people, including Noctis, but softer, gentler tickles on certain areas was pure torture in comparison, and that’s exactly what the situation is here. That feather is a tool held by a man much too skilled for Noctis’ own good, and Ignis has no trouble proving that very fact, evidenced by the jump in octave and volume of the prince’s laughter when the older began to pretend to paint with the feather’s tip across the plane of his belly.
“AaahahahAHAHA! Ignihihi⎯⎯BABE, plehehehease! Nohoho mohohohore!” It was Ignis’ turn to feel the spark of a fluster, his stomach churning within at being called babe by Noctis, but he’d be a dead son of a gun before he allowed himself to admit it. It softens him right up though, a power that Noctis doesn’t realize he possesses and Ignis isn’t about to permit him to know any time soon. Still, finishing up isn’t quite on his to-do list just yet; he wants one last grand burst of his laughter from the man below him and he knows just how to get it.
He sets the feather down, desiring to use nothing but his own natural tickle tools for this. Noctis spoils himself with much needed oxygen, gulping down as much as he can manage because goosebumps are ascending along his arms and there’s a chill in the air that tells him that Ignis’ isn’t done with him yet. He's abashed, and yet Noctis can’t tear his eyes away from the older, a crooked grin finding home upon his lips that has Ignis gifting him something similar.
“My ticklish little prince,” He begins, vocals dropping to nigh a low whisper, “There's an effortless way to make all of this stop. You must simply admit how much you enjoy tickling. Once I hear that, I'll stop."
Noctis finds his eyes widening once again, the ultimatum presented to him flushing his system with a stronger embarrassment. Teeth bite down on his bottom lip once more but he shakes his head defiantly, if only to push Ignis into forcing him to obey. Trust and believe, that's exactly what Ignis wanted. Slender fingers hover over Noctis's stomach, lingering phantom tickles from earlier causing Noctis to giggle without even being touched, the tease of it all enough to drive him insane. Ignis observes him with intent, slowly wiggling his fingers to gage a reaction from the other and is pleased to be given another giggle.
"I haven't even begun touching you again yet," He muses, jade sight glinting behind his glasses, "You're much too adorable for your own good, you know that?"
Noctis flushes even darker, the embarrassment building within him. "Ignis-- damnmit, c'mon--" and he's cut off, not even a second later, by his owl howls and squeals of laughter, the advisor making quick work of diminishing that attitude. His fingers dove right in, digging and kneading at Noctis' stomach and sides with an unholy precision that had knocked coherence right out of his mind.
"You're so impatient. Do you know what happens when princes become bratty?" He'd made note of this spot earlier; the one positioned right below his navel, just above the hem of his pants. A smirk travels back onto Ignis' lips as he targets that spot, hones in on it, and for a moment, he thought Noctis was in pain from the way he barked out a yelp, but laughter was quickly added to the mix of noises that derived from the prince. His mouth hung as though unhinged from his jaw and nothing but loud, melodious hysterics could be heard from Noctis. Any use of words had gone out the window and at this point, even struggling was something that required more energy than Noctis had, every ounce of it sapped from the terrible, horrible, amazing, tickling.
Gazing down upon his pliant, tickle-happy prince, Ignis can't help the bright smile plastered on his lips. He leans down to plant a gentle kiss to his cheek, transferring as much love into the gesture as possible. When Noctis' laughter begins to go silent and tears threaten to spill at the corners of his eyes, Ignis finally decides he's had enough. Slowing his fingers down to a complete halt, he removes them from the other's panting frame and moves to the side to admire his work. The lids of Noctis' eyes squeeze shut, focused only bringing in as much air as possible and remembering how to move his limbs. He's jelly-bodied, electricity still coursing under his skin even after minutes roll by with no touching from Ignis.
Once he gathers his bearings, Noctis meets Ignis' gaze, cheeks still flushed with petal pink and a small smile still visible on his lips. "-- Remind me to never help you chase down a chocobo again."
Ignis allows a diminutive chuckle at that statement, moving to rise from his crouched position over Noctis, his hand extended to aid his boyfriend to rise to his feet as well. He's exhausted and it shows from the buckle of his knees, the slight wobble in the way he walks. Ignis pulls him in close, upper appendage coiling around his waist but there's no ill intention in his action. He delivers another pampering kiss to Noctis, this time on the side of his head. Noctis leans against Ignis as they start their tread back towards the camp, giddy and tired, and all too ready to use this little playtime in his favor, and force Ignis to make whatever Noctis wanted for breakfast-- well, actually, make that brunch.
