warmth

autumnstwilight:

Rating: G
Words: ~1300
Tags: FFXV, ignoct, one-shot, fluff, mild angst, i’m weak for ignoct cuddling,
Summary: It gets cold in that tent.

The nights are growing longer, and after the sun sets, the heat leaches from the desert with surprising swiftness. The stone dome of the haven holds on to the warmth of the day for a little longer, but by the early hours the cold begins to seep up through the floor of the tent and into the bones. Noctis is used to stirring in the night to find the distance between himself and his companions has shrunk considerably, and it’s not like they had much personal space to begin with. In the beginning, there were some awkward moments, muttered apologies followed by hasty retreats, even a stifled noise of terror from Prompto the first time he awoke to realize he had draped himself all the way across Ignis, who he was apparently still a little intimidated by (Ignis had remained asleep for the entire incident, even while Noctis was practically vibrating with muffled laughter). But as they spend more time on the road, sharing the same space, the same food, the same battles and the same grime clinging to each of them, it doesn’t seem worth it to be precious about these things, and the simple desire for heat and comfort wins out.

So he’s not surprised to wake in the early hours and find an arm draped over him and the warmth of someone pressed against his back. His brain isn’t working particularly quickly at this hour, but he can see that Prompto’s face is in front of his own, and feel that the person behind him is of a slimmer build than Gladio. And, okay, maybe he is just a little surprised that Ignis is clinging to him like this.

… Not that it’s bad. It’s quite comfortable really. The chill air is nipping at his face and arms, and the blanket isn’t quite enough on its own to keep out the cold. Ignis is probably the only thing keeping him from shivering. He shifts a little where the ground has started to feel too hard underneath him, and despite his efforts otherwise, wakes Ignis up.

“Noct?” He hears the sleepy murmur, and then the arm starts to withdraw. He puts his hand over Ignis’ and pulls it back to rest on his chest.

“Stay,” he says, and then worrying that might sound too much like an order, whispers, “I mean… as long as you’re comfortable. You don’t have to move. I’m fine.”

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