Chapter Text
Rain. People associate different things with it. There are probably as many types of rain as there are perceptions and opinions of the natural phenomenon. A light spring shower, fresh and chilly to the skin but soft to the touch, full of anticipation. The downpours in summer, carrying all kinds of herbal scents and notions of far away dusty desert lands, bringing lukewarm refreshment to the woods, plants and those, who choose to boldly discard their umbrellas to dance and get soaked under the watery strings. Autumn storms that quench the fire of the trees, pinning their multicoloured leaves to the ground and driving people to flee for their homes, out of the cold and inside their safe havens, watching the fused power of water and wind with steaming cups in their hands. And those drops, that on occasion, when the time and temperature is just right transform into white and pure cotton flakes to enchant the people with the sight of the soft coat they weave.
There are some who love and some who hate it.
Ignis had stopped wondering which of those sides he belonged to.
His gaze lingered on the tip of his shoes as the countless drops dripped off the varnished leather and down to the dark concrete. The umbrella in his hand was dangling sadly from his side like a useless limb, guiding the droplets to the ground but not shielding anything like it was supposed to. The water was already seeping through Ignis’ suit jacket, making his shirt cling to his shoulders like cool hands, whose fingers trickled down his back on occasion.
Ignis didn’t sense any of this. It was not like he didn’t feel it. But he didn’t sense anything. Slowly he tilted his head up and back, the rain plastering his neatly groomed hair to his forehead in dishevelled disarray. When had he become so indifferent and tired, so hollow?
It had been over a year since he had graduated from university, passed with flying colours and scores that marked his excellency. People had cheered and wished him the best for the future. His parents had been proud. They had also been proud when he announced them that he’d be moving to work at Fenestala Solution Inc., one of the most prestigious corporations existing. Their son would be successful and start into a new part of his life with the best conditions possible.
They couldn’t have been more wrong.
Almost a year and he still hadn’t been able to fully adapt to the hustle and bustle of the immense city that was entrapped by skyscrapers looking much alike to greedy giants staring down on their prey. Ignis had found an apartment, small and comfortable on the thirty-seventh floor with a nice view but even one year later, there were still unpacked boxes piling up in the corners of his living room, the walls still bare. The only sign of a person actually living there, were his shoes at the entrance, an empty cup waiting to be rinsed in the sink and the crumpled-up sheets of his bed.
Ignis was barely spending any time in the little home of his. It was where he slept, where he woke and where he returned after a day of work and fell back to his sheets. There was not much in between, weekends excluded. He didn’t know, who his neighbours were, no faces connecting to the place he lived.
Work was not much different either. There were people, and many of them, burying themselves within their walls of documents and appointments, phone calls and e-mails. Of course, there was casual talk, sometimes about private matters but mostly about work. There was nothing of substance there, nothing that resonated with his heart or mind.
The tasks themselves were fine, challenging even and just the way Ignis had imagined and wished for but their amount was way too much to handle. So was the pressure from above. As much as they had been friendly at the start, this didn’t change anything in the roughness of speech they made use of. Especially Ravus.
A young manager of excellence with his eyes set to his goal, ever moving towards it without even wavering in the slightest. Ignis once had envisioned to tread the same path, now he wasn’t so sure about it anymore. Ravus was impressive and more than capable but he was also cold and adamant. Ignis remembered to be intimidated the first time he had been called to his office because of a mistake he had made in the process. He didn’t like the way he was speaking to him.
All of this had piled up in his chest and concentrated around his very core, hardening it for protection. Sometimes he came to think about his current state of things, and deep down he knew it was no good. But then again he sometimes let those thoughts be washed away by the rain falling down onto his face. Things will be fine, the drops would whisper, taking any unnecessary sorrows with them and leaving behind the shell of a once bright mind.
Ignis tilted his head back to its original position, not even bothering about the water that had sprinkled his glasses and walked away from the office building. One step after the other, each one neatly placed in front of the other. Maybe it was curiosity that held his gaze on the bouncing droplets, examining their dancing patterns and wondering what happened if two of them collided and fused to one. Maybe it was indifference.
The sky had begun to darken and vivid neons illuminated the evening. Their reflections in the puddles made the ground seem made of glass, hiding a blueprint of this reality underneath. Ignis wondered if this side of the world wasn’t the blueprint itself.
Instead of heading straight home, Ignis decided to make for one of the smaller side plazas; smaller but not less frequented. He had often walked past but never actually bothered to stop by and see what kept the enclave alive and in motion day in day out. It was always a little louder there than elsewhere, a little brighter. Sometimes he thought he had even caught a hint of music playing. Why not have a look at it, just for a moment?
Ignis changed direction with a crossing sweep of his feet and walked towards the colourful and pulsating lights. There were many restaurants and bars, as it seemed, one or the other game centre and a lot of people, umbrellas of various colours and shapes wriggling their ways through the crowd. Ignis thought that it might be nice having people around for a little longer. Not for conversation, no but just for the feel of it. The feeling of not being alone. He found a bench next to a little fountain where he decided to sit down. The water seeped through his trousers from below.
It was not like he was doing anything unusual. Ignis found himself often spending time in roomy and modern cafés, preferably with view on the busy streets of the city. He liked studying the people around him, those inside the café and those who were just walking by. He would make up what sort of life they probably led, what character traits they had, what hobbies and dreams. It was a pass time that often made him smile. Occasionally he would write those thoughts down into a notebook he was always carrying around. Maybe it could come in handy one day.
Today the book would stay in his pocket though. It would be a waste to have it macerate in the rain.
The people here were busy, no doubt. A lot of them wearing their daily battle gear, suits and ties, men and women alike swarming like crows. Some of their faces were dull, others brighter than the surrounding neons. Women, not much younger than himself laughing about the latest celebrity gossip, a man holding a woman tight, begging her to stay under the umbrella so she would not get wet, groups of men, who had obviously had their fill for the night, playfully swaying towards the next drinking place, hotel room or train station. They were much like himself, he realised and yet they seemed happy. Ignis wondered if there wasn’t anything beyond this sort of life, something more behind the curtains of a grey routine playing back day by day like a broken record.
“Hey. You alright?”
It took a moment until Ignis realised that he was the one being talked to. Slowly his eyes rose up to see a tall figure standing close to him.
“Pardon?”
“You alright?”, the man repeated.
Ignis was confused that the rain had suddenly stopped, before he noticed that the man was holding his umbrella over him.
“Not a nice time for spacing out, don’t ya think? You’re soaked.”
Ignis’ gaze turned back on the figure that had decided to talk to him for some reason. He was not only tall but also built, long hair tied into a more or less messy bun with a shaggy fringe grazing his forehead. Three necklaces, two golden and shorter and one longer black one were dangling from his neck and onto a black top that he wore under an open leather jacket. A rock musician, maybe.
“I...” I am alright, thank you. It was the most evident and simple answer to the question, especially when being talked to by a total stranger. Yet something in Ignis hindered him in uttering the words. Was he really alright?
He blinked in confusion, distantly fascinated by his incapability to talk.
“I don’t know.”
He watched the man in front of him bring his brows close into a firm line and his eyes flickering from the right to the left, seemingly checking on their surroundings.
“Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but you gotta do something about it. Can’t stay here like this. Do you have a home?”
Yes, thank you very kindly. It is just where I was about to go to. Have a nice evening.
But somehow it felt not right to call his place like that.
“I don’t know.”
The man pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows.
“I mean, you have a place to stay?”
Ah, that sounded better.
“Yes.”
The man seemed relieved.
“Good. Then you better get your ass up and move. You’ll get sick if you don’t.”
Now that he mentioned it. It had gotten cold and the moist clothing clinging to Ignis’ skin wasn’t exactly making this better. He’d have to get back to his apartment, yes. But maybe a drink or two to chase the chill from his bones might be wise. What bad would it do to ask?
“Can you recommend a place to get warmed up around here? I think liquor or basically anything hot might do the trick but I’m not familiar with the surroundings.”
The man looked at him incredulously before he snorted.
“Well, I know where to find both alcohol and something hot but not sure that’s what you really mean”, he laughed.
“Where do I find that place?”
The man’s expression froze instantly at his straight answer. He seemed unsure if he had understood him well but Ignis didn’t think he had been babbling as much. How bad could a place possibly be?
They walked a little, the taller man checking back on Ignis’ word at least two times more until they reached a building with heavy doors. It didn’t give off the air of being open yet - yet being about half past eight - but the bulky man confidently walked up the few steps to the entrance. His knock against the door gave off a dull and hollow sound.
Promptly enough a little square in the door opened up with the noise of sliding metal. Something like a high pitched joyful giggle came from behind, before the slit closed shut again and the door squeaked open in exchange.
“Gladio, dear. I have already been expecting you.”
Another man, taller than the one named Gladio stood in the door, golden light illuminating him from behind and catching in what seemed to be burgundy coloured hair, held together in a short ponytail.
“You keep saying that every time”, Gladio grunted amused, bouncing back a friendly punch with the palm of his hand.
“Ready to go for another night?”, the man purred, running his hands along the collar of Gladio’s leather jacket to smooth it out. He was wearing a lot of rings, as Ignis noticed.
“Sure thing”, Gladio grinned. “Guess we can get started right now. I’ve picked up visit on the way.”
The gaze of the man followed the direction Gladio’s thumb was pointing in and suddenly Ignis found himself in the focus of a pair of wicked coloured eyes. Maybe it was because of the light from the inside but they appeared to have the colour of liquid gold.
“Oh my, I thought we didn’t do that sort of picking up guests in the streets anymore”, he chimed, narrowing his eyes just the slightest bit. He reminded Ignis of a predator, zeroing in on his target.
“Sorry, boss”, Gladio grumbled. “It was just-”
“I asked him to bring me here”, Ignis said flatly. This Gladio didn’t really pick him up and facts had to be laid out clear and unmistakable. He could take the responsibility for his own actions.
“Oh, did you, yes?”
The man stepped out of the light and closer towards him, shadow chasing away the golden hues from his appearance. Maybe he should feel alarmed. Ignis swallowed.
“Indeed. I was looking for a place to warm up, some liquor for assistance, preferably.”
The man’s face stilled for a moment before showing a wide grin with flashing teeth.
“In that case, you’ve come to the right address. We will give you the warmest welcome.”
His hand delicately put away one of the wet strands of hair that were hanging above Ignis’ glasses.
“What do you call yourself, if I may ask?”
Ignis blinked fast. That was unexpected.
“Ignis”, he answered, something in him deeming it wiser to not utter his full name.
“I see. Ardyn, at your service. It’s a pleasure to have you here tonight, Ignis.”
Ardyn greeted him with the hint of a bow before he carefully enclosed his shoulder with merely his fingertips and pushed him towards the door. There was warm air coming from the inside.
“Shall we, then?”
Ignis followed Ardyn through a narrow corridor, Gladio walking right behind him. It reminded him somewhat of detention but that would be just because of the space issue. There was another door at the end, more ornate than the functional one. Ardyn pushed the handle down and opened it with a generous swing.
“Good evening everyone”, he tromboned through the room. “I’d like to introduce a new guest. This is Ignis and he will be joining us for tonight. Please make sure he’s treated nicely and well cared for.” His eyes peeked at him from under a wine lock.
“It seems like he could need it.”
The scenery that was laid out before his eyes made himself go rigid just the slightest bit. Too spacious to still be called small, little groups of coffee tables and comfortable armchairs of dark leather stood against ornate walls of purples and reds, blending into black swirls on occasion. There were golden lights distributed all over the room in symmetry, taking the form of candles on the counter of a bar in the corner. There was a sweet scent in the air, almost too sweet and Ignis worried if it could possibly have an intoxicating effect. But what worried him the most was his company.
The place itself was empty still, guests galore yet to come as the preparations suggested. But the personnel, or what he assumed to be personnel made its character all too clear. The lady behind the counter was unmistakably blessed with very prominent female features, wearing a red dress with an immense cleavage. She wouldn’t even have had to. Her face was beautiful enough to stand out, studded with a pair of sharp lime green eyes and full red lips that she wore puckered in a smirk.
In another corner there was a young man, almost still a boy whom Ignis presumed to be even younger than himself. He was suggestively bent over the back rest of one of the chairs, wearing a highly questionable outfit that involved very tight leather hot pants.
Ignis swallowed.
A night club.
His eyes nervously flickered over to Gladio, who just raised an eyebrow in return. ‘Told you so’, they were signaling, half in apology half in amusement. He should have thought this through before following the unknown man like would always have. But Ignis had been so tired of thinking today.
Now that we’ve come here, might as well get warmed up with a drink and then leave at once.
“The place is all yours”, Ardyn gestured generously towards the room. “Should you need anything, let my little birds know. They will be more than eager to fulfill your requests.”
“My thanks”, Ignis replied stiffly. He adjusted his glasses and made a straight line to one of the stools at the bar. Walking through the room, he spotted a stage with pole a little further to the right. Reaching the bar seemed to take an eternity.
“Good evening, sweetheart”, the woman behind the counter greeted him, brushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear in a well calculated movement. “Anything I can do for you?”
Ignis found himself irritated and caught between that all too intimidating pair of breasts and the drink menu in front of him. He didn’t really intend to engage in any sort of activities. That was not at all what he had in mind. A drink, a drink...
“If you could pass me a whiskey, please?”
Somehow he managed his voice to sound grounded.
“Sure thing”, the woman smirked, theatrically turning around and bending down to fetch some of the ice. Ignis sighed internally. He should have gotten back to his apartment like he always did after all.
“Oh, hi there!”
Ignis almost jumped at the sudden voice to his right and fingers that started drawing patterns onto his shoulder.
“You here for the first time?”
It was the blond who had been lolling on one of the couches some minute ago. His eyes were covered in sparkles and Ignis could make out a lip piercing right below his lower lip. He was skinny and seemed to be very flexible, judging by the way he moved.
“Ah, I... indeed”, Ignis almost stumbled over his own words trying to keep his cool. There was no reason to get worked up. He could leave as soon as his drink was emptied.
“Aww, that’s cute”, the boy giggled. “First times are really exciting. We’ll make your stay worth the while, you’ll see.”
It was almost dizzying how fast he had managed to open up the first button of Ignis’ shirt. And where had his jacket gone?
“Prompto, you’ll scare him away. You can’t be that touchy with everyone.”
The woman had put the glass onto the counter, slapping the skinny arms of the boy with a light hand. The boy, Prompto, only sticked out his tongue in response and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ neck instead.
“You know I’m a clingy guy, Aranea”, Prompto chimed.
Aranea only rolled here eyes and made another shoo-ing gesture with her manicured fingers before she pushed over the glass towards Ignis.
“There you are”, she murmured in a velvet tone, the smirk not leaving her lips. “Don’t be shy, honey. I can see you got something in you.”
“Th-thank you”, Ignis managed, worrying to be strangled by Prompto’s arms and that Aranea’s breasts might just pop out of the dress, if she continued bending over the counter like that. It was not like he felt excited by either of them, just nervous about them doing things he had not come here for. He took a sip of his drink to cool down his overworked system.
“So...” Aranea playfully stuck her little finger to the corner of her mouth. “What brings you here? Looks like you’ve got a pretty decent job. Not the average type we get to see here, to be honest.”
Prompto untangled his hands from Ignis’ neck and chose to clasp his fingers around his thighs instead.
“Yeah, totally! Whoa, he’s got a little muscle, Aranea! Aaah, that’s so cool!”
Aranea snorted.
“Now don’t get too excited here, okay? We know what you like, but that’s not the question here, right now, is it?”
Prompto whined but continued fumbling along the seams of Ignis’ suit trousers.
“I knoooow. But what kind of things do you think he is into?”
Ignis swallowed and took another sip. That was not a conversation he was wanting to have.
“I don’t know, you could always ask?”
Prompto beamed at Ignis.
“So, what do you like? Are you into into dancing or watching stuff? You don’t really look like the type of guy who likes doing things with toys. Hmm.... Oh! Don’t tell me you’re into bondage and stuff!”
Ignis almost choked on the liquor and he could feel his face turn bright red.
“I, uhm, usually don’t tend to talk about such matters”, he managed under one or the other cough.
“Oooh, now that sounds like there are some sweet and dirty secrets buried behind those glasses”, Aranea grinned, leaning over just a bit more.
“Gnah! I wanna knooow!”
“Hey, how about you give him a little space? He’s uncomfortable.”
Just when Ignis feared he would end up either squeezed to death by Prompto or buried under Araneas genetical heritage, a husky voice spoke up, drawing his eyes to where it came from. A young man had entered the room from a door next to the bar Ignis had missed to spot in all the turmoil. If he hadn’t spoken up at all he might as well have perfectly blended in with the walls as he was fully dressed in black.
Black leather boots with heels, laced tightly to slender legs with blue strings, running up the backside of his calves in a zig-zag pattern and stopping right under the knee. Skinny jeans peeked out from underneath, revealing strips of pale skin through the ripped fabric on his thighs. The fine mesh part of the long sleeved crop top was dangling right over his belly button but even so, he looked like the most properly dressed of this lot.
“Aww, come on man, you’re ruining the fun!”, Prompto exclaimed in protest but let go of Ignis’ thigh.
“There’s others coming in just a minute, Prom”, the young man pointed at the door with his thumb. “Saw them outside. Why don’t you give them a hand with undressing?”
“Sounds like fun”, Prompto squealed, hurrying to the door.
The next moment he swiped a note over the counter.
“They ordered drinks in advance, so I made a list just now. Could you get those ready for me, Aranea?”
Aranea chuffed, grabbing the paper with a rustle.
“And there you go, taking all the fun for you alone again”, she grinned tauntingly as she straightened herself up. “Don’t get too full of yourself, pretty boy. You’re not the only one here.”
“Might be”, the man smirked at her as he discreetly looped his arm through Ignis’, pulling him up to standing. Ignis just let it happen.
“But I think I’ve got just the hand for this.”
Ignis found himself guided towards one of the smaller tables in the corner of the room, offered a seat by his companion. The man had a little mole on his cheek and his dark hair was shimmering in an impossible multitude of colours, or so it seemed.
“I am sorry. Prom’s a real flurry and Aranea likes toying with our guests a lot. I hope they didn’t bother you too much... Ignis, was it?”
He had remembered his name?
“Y-yes, thank you”, Ignis managed as the young man handed him the drink before sitting down right next to him.
“I, uh... It is quite overwhelming.”
The man smiled.
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
He leaned closer, far too close for comfort and Ignis was about to jump right out of his skin when he felt slim fingers carefully running up his throat and - and closing the top button of his shirt.
Oh.
“Prom always does this”, the man apologised, letting the palm of his hand linger for a moment under the shirt collar. A pair of steel blue eyes framed by a long set of lashes and just a hint of makeup locked with his.
“Are you scared?”
“N-no!”, Ignis burst out almost too loudly, tuning down his voice in embarrassment.
“No, it is just, uh... It is an unexpected visit.”
The man hummed, letting his hand travel over Ignis’ shoulder before pulling away.
“Got caught in the rain, huh.”
“Y-yes”, Ignis blinked.
“I was on my way back from work. It was pouring.”
“Hmmm.”
The other let a pensive finger ghost over his lips.
“Can’t have you catch a cold. You need something to warm yourself up. I’ll have Aranea whip something up. You wait here, I’ll go and get it for you.”
While Ignis was not sure if the term of ‘whipping’ was meant in the literal sense of the word, the young man rose from his seat and strode over to the counter again. He was skilled, walking on those heels and simply looked gracious doing so. The pants didn’t leave much room for interpretation and drew a very defined silhouette of a beautiful backside with almost feline character.
Ignis found his eyes glued to him and cleared his throat to shake the stupor.
It didn’t take much time for him to come back. Other guests had entered the room, lingering around the bar and waiting to be served. They were acquaintances of the young man, as it seemed, because he was greeted by some of them with a kiss on the cheek. Ignis was slightly uncomfortable when he saw one of the guests groping his butt. It looked wrong.
The man came striding back with a crystalline cup of steaming beverage and placed it on the table next to Ignis glass of whiskey.
“I asked Aranea to heat up the usual White Russian. Should get the warmth back to your body.”
Shoving himself back to his seat, his backside passed almost at the height of Ignis’ face. Almost.
“Ah, I forgot. I’m Noctis”, the man presented himself with a wry smile.
“Ignis, pleasure to meet you”, Ignis returned on reflex when he realised that Noctis already knew that. But his smile was unwavering as he took all the time to slowly cross his legs and nod in response.
“Pleasure’s all mine. So, what brings you here tonight, Ignis?”
Ignis looked at him from the corner of his eyes, afraid to stare at him too thoroughly. He might lose himself.
“It... was by chance, to be very honest. I was on my way back from work and somehow... found myself here. I was looking for a place to spend some time before returning to my apartment.”
He took a sip of the hot liquid. The coffee warmed his heart, the liquor his cheeks and Noctis’ thigh his--
When did he get that close?
“Sounds like work is taking out a lot of you, huh?”
Another sip.
“I should not be the one to complain. There simply is a lot to do and I’m certainly not the only one who is going through a rough phase.”
“We all have the right to complain once in a while, Ignis”, Noctis returned with a low voice. His hand found Ignis’ shoulder and he squeezed it in what could have been mistaken for compassion. “Everybody needs a little comfort in their life. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Ignis felt his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that the circumstances were everything but sincere, yet the truth buried behind those lulling flatteries was striking a chord. The loneliness had been crushing him, and he had just tried to lock it up in a box and push it aside, out of his reach. Noctis had pulled out that box without possibly knowing. It was fascinating.
He found himself timidly peering over to Noctis only to be met by his enthralling gaze. It made Noctis part his smiling lips.
“Ah, you finally look at me.”
He slid a little closer still, eyes alive and searching.
“Tell me, what you want me to do, Ignis.”
Ignis found the air catching in his throat as Noctis’ breath tickled his neck. He said it was okay to search comfort. That he could tell him what to do. So it should be fine to ask. As long as he paid he could possibly ask for anything. There was nobody waiting for him anyway, so he might as well just--
“Alright.” Ignis’ voice was trembling a little as Noctis signaled him to whisper it into his ear.
“Can I... can I ask you to just... just listen to me? Just for a while? I- I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”
Noctis pulled away, his face betraying his bewilderment.
“Y-yeah, sure. Uhm, go ahead, I guess?”
Ignis took another gulp of his hot drink, feeling it burn down his throat and making way for the heat to rise into his cheeks.
And then he talked. About the things that were happening at work, how he wasn’t able to handle the workload, the stress put on him from the upper ranks and how he had been staring up into the crying sky without even bothering to take shelter from the rain, wondering what was happening.
And Noctis was listening. He was searching for help with his eyes more than once and Ignis noticed but with his tongue loosened by the alcohol he tried not to care. He had come so far as to spend his time in a place like this, he would pay, no matter what to recompense his beautiful companion. He almost felt a little sorry for not being business as usual.
Handing over a generous amount of money - he couldn’t think of a better way to express both his gratitude and apology - he bid Noctis farewell. The latter guided him towards the door where he himself had entered the scene through. On the way outside, he could spot Prompto starting some sort of lap dance with the group he was entertaining, before the hustle and bustle quieted down. Ignis found himself in the hallway, a door to the right and a curved staircase to the left, leading up to a second floor. That one was for... different sorts of entertainment, he fathomed.
Ignis thanked Noctis once more, who waved at him with a half tired half dazed expression, and then he left.
The few steps down, he put up his umbrella with lightened shoulders. What had he been getting himself into? It had been more than awkward but all that was lying behind the door in his back now.
Ignis turned around to see the main entrance of the club - not the back entrance he had somehow walked through when arriving. It had letters of not so bright neon hanging on the wall, yellow ones with a red-pinkish border. Seeing the place’s name provoked an incredulous laughter.
It was called ‘ClockWork’, or at least it was supposed to be called that way. Fittingly enough, the illumination seemed to be broken. The ‘l’ could not decide if it wanted to stay on or flicker off, only to leave behind a much more indecent appellation, that conveyed nothing more than the club’s true nature.
When Ignis left he shook his head, still processing that he had made it in and out of this none the worse for wear. He was a lucky man. Yet, bizarre as it might sound, he couldn’t deny that this was the first time after months that he had felt somewhat alive.
Ignis sped up his steps to run from those unwanted thoughts. The rain could have them.
He would turn his back on this one-off and never come back again.
Maybe.