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Steel Handcuffs and Diamond Cuff-links

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***Art for this fic done by the wonderful Aleric! Pls check him out on twitter and here on AO3



It was the early hours of the morning and the air was brisk, the chill of the night still present in the frost on the ground and the fogging of one’s breath. The dawning sun glinted off a few brave sprigs of green and shone through Ignis’ apartment, glinting off his glasses and warming his skin.

He rubbed his hands together then sipped his coffee, enjoying the warmth and bitterness as it spread into his hands through the novelty “World’s Best Brother” mug Noctis had gotten for him when they were still children. 

He took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of coffee mixed with the fresh air from the open balcony door. His light brown hair was resting softly against his face; his nose, cheeks, and ears pink with cold. He shivered, nothing woke him faster than the cold, and nothing lulled him to sleep faster. He loved the numbness, the contrast of a warm beverage and cold hands in the morning, of a cold room and a warm bed at night.

Breathing in the country air, he watched the birds outside his balcony. His favorite part of his one room apartment, aside from the cheapness of it, most definitely had to be the view. Overlooking the rooftops of the village, he could see the sunrise over the distant mountains. A few tree branches obstructed the view, but he knew that the small buds appearing on its twigs would, in a few weeks time, bloom into the most beautiful cherry blossoms. 

Some birds flew by, chirping in a merry song, reminding him to refill the bird feeder he had put on the AC box shortly after moving in. He took a glance at the clock on the kitchen counter: a quarter to six. Exhaling through his nose, he closed his eyes; time to get ready for work. 

Standing slowly, he brought his coffee mug to the sink, washing it and placing it on the rack to dry. He stretched, already feeling the caffeine working its way through his system, waking him up enough to function less like an exhausted zombie and more like the confident man his community depended on. 

Shuffling to the twin bed in the corner, he meticulously changed the sheets, bringing the blankets in from the balcony after a brief airing out. Satisfied with the bed, he then divested himself of his sleep clothes, giving them a perfunctory sniff and tossing them into the washing machine. 

He changed into the clothes he had hung up to air out the night previously; simple in style, just dark brown slacks, a white button-up, and a light brown pullover. His life being a series of uniforms since primary school, he never really bothered with expanding his wardrobe beyond the bare necessities. Although, he must confess to some vanity as his bare necessities were all on the more pricey side. He may not have many occasions to wear anything that wasn’t his work uniform or pajamas but he’d be damned if he ever looked anything less than presentable.

Although, considering most of the people he’s known had lifestyles very similar to his and yet still managed to have an overly extensive wardrobe for those rare holidays and occasions when one could dress up, well; it honestly said more to his character than his circumstances that his own closet was so empty. Noctis would joke that his closet was so empty as to allow him to fit in it. Then he came out as gay in high school leaving Noctis to bemoan his lost punchline.

Ignis grabbed his satchel, a dark brown leather thing easily worth his yearly salary. It was a gift from his adoptive father, Regis, as congratulations for his graduating from the police academy. With the family crest embroidered into the corner, small enough to escape casual notice, it served as a reminder of the home he could return to, the business he could still take over, should he ever decide to. It served not only as a reminder of the respect his family had of his choices, but their readiness to take him back should he change his mind. 

Most days the strap rested easy on his shoulder, simply a satchel and nothing more, other days it weighed heavy; days when he missed his father, his brother, when he wondered if he had made the right choice.  

It was easy at first, to let himself get caught up in the newness of the Police Academy, studying away the day, working through the nights, not allowing the anxieties to sink in. He threw himself into training with a fervor that distracted him from his homesickness, didn’t allow himself to fall into a depression, didn’t allow himself time to think about anything other than his goals. 

He didn’t cry when he graduated, didn’t cry when his father gave him the satchel along with a promise. He didn’t cry when his brother did, tears staining Ignis’ jacket before he got into his car and drove away, leaving his only family behind. He didn’t cry the first night in his new apartment, nor the second, nor the third. He was too caught up in becoming the best he could be, in adapting to his new station. He couldn’t allow himself to waver, otherwise he felt that he’d drown from his feelings. It wasn’t until months later, when he had fully settled into his routine, when he no longer had anything to distract himself, that he allowed himself to doubt, allowed himself to fully feel the strength of his homesickness, his fears. He became robotic in his motions, impatient with human interaction. 

It was to his greatest relief that he had found a confidant in his supervisor and partner, an old childhood friend, Gladiolus. The two of them and Noctis had gone to the same primary school, but Gladiolus had moved away after graduation, and they ended up losing touch. Gladiolus’ father was the Police Commissioner, and he was now following in his father’s footsteps, even if he was starting from the bottom. 

The two of them ran a small police box in a small country town. With minimal responsibilities and next to no crime, it was the perfect place to send someone green to figure out the more human aspect of their duties. Ignis being sent there with only one bit of advice, “You’re a great student but you need to learn more about people. They’re the reason you’re doing this job in the first place.” 

The hours were long, the work often unrewarding. One thing that always helped remind them of why they did the work they did was the cork-board in the locker room of the police box. It was covered in ‘thank you” cards from those they’d helped and crayon drawings from the local children, many of whom idolized the police force. It accumulated over the months until, by the time him and Gladio had been stationed together for a year, the pin board was near overflowing.

It served as a reminder of why Ignis was there. He’d always wanted to help others, to do what was right, and this felt like the best way to him. So he’d look at the cards, take a deep breath, and allow himself to be reassured that, yes, this was exactly where he was supposed to be. Fortunately, those days of doubt came less and less, and it became easier and easier to counteract them. 

It did end up taking Gladiolus and a bottle or two of cheap whisky to get him to finally breakdown and just let it all out; his homesickness, his worries. He found himself listening to and learning more about Gladiolus as well. The toll his parent’s divorce took on him, the way he had to raise his sister practically on his own, his own inability to commit to a relationship as a result. They emerged from that conversation closer, both as partners and as friends.

Ignis shook his head, as if to dislodge the thoughts that had resurfaced while he got ready for the day and ate breakfast. He put on his coat, slid on his shoes, and left his flat. 

As he locked up, he saw his next door neighbor, Cindy, heading up the steps. Her curly, blonde hair was more messy than usual, her make-up smudged, and her clothes rumpled. She waved at him, a shit-eating grin on her face that belied the bags under her eyes and a sway in her step that spoke of a sleepless night and a less than sober state.  

“Howdy, Iggs! Got the mornin' shift, huh?” She fished her keys out of her jacket, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol clinging to her like the obscenely tight tank tops and booty shorts she often wore. 

Ignis nodded, gesturing to her extra mussed up hair and messy lipstick, “You have fun last night, then?” 

“I sure did, hon, and she did too, if the way my back is all torn up is any way to indicate.” She winked lasciviously then laughed at Ignis’ impassive face. 

“You want me to patch you up? I’ve got a few minutes.” 

Cindy, opened her door, waving him off, “Naw, I’m fine! Nothing a warm shower won’t heal up, and this ain’t my first rodeo!”

“So I hear, quite loudly, and all too often, through the walls of the complex.”

Cindy let out a peal of delighted laughter, clutching her sides, “God’s you’re a rare one Iggy! Cool as a cucumber, gayer than Elton, and as sweet as the cookies you bake for me when I get dumped!” She yawned violently, “Shit, Imma pass out out now, hun. You take care now, Mr. Policeman.”

“Sleep well, Cindy.”

Ignis walked to work, stopping along the way to greet all the others out and about. 

He didn’t use to be as chatty as a child, and was often described as being reclusive, but being taken in by the Lucis Caelums had been good for him. He found that by suddenly having a younger brother even more introverted than he was, he needed to learn quickly how to make him open up, and how to open up in return. It was an awkward first couple of months, the two of them learning how to communicate, how to trust, but by the time Ignis entered high school, he was a master of small talk and him and Noctis were near inseparable. 

His decision to become a police officer instead of joining the family company caused their biggest fight in years. Fortunately, their father was used to mediating their quarrels and Ignis moved out still on good terms with Noctis. 

“I understand why you want to do this, just give Noctis some time to cool down and come to terms with it on his own. Honestly, after growing up with your prickly cat of a brother, there’s nothing you can’t handle, my boy.” 

He had hugged Regis then, making the older man freeze in surprise, a soft “oh” escaping his lips and he hugged his son back hard enough that they both could hardly breathe. For all that Regis was a stern man, with an iron fist at work, he was kind and fair to his son and ward; he was the closest thing to a father Ignis had ever known. No, he was his father, no matter the time it took for them to find each other.

Ignis smiled softly, the memory of his father stirred by the kindly shopkeepers greeting him on his commute. As the police box came into view, he took the keys from his bag to let himself in. Locking the door behind him, he swiftly made his way to the locker room, changing into his uniform and hanging up and folding his clothes to be put away neatly in his locker. 

The locker room was small, just two shower stalls on the right-hand side, with four lockers along the wall on the left. In the middle was a bench, and the back wall was empty except for a small shelf filled with blankets and a fold-up camp bed resting next to it. 

With fifteen minutes till eight, he set to cleaning the front room, making sure the floor was swept, the electric thermos filled with hot water, and the files organized. He read Gladio’s report from the previous night, nothing eventful, checked the voicemail, again, nothing, and opened the door at eight o’clock on the dot, to let the cool spring air in, and also to signal to the town that the police box was now open. 

He grabbed the watering can from the storage room on the second floor, along with some gardening scissors and gloves, then went to the front of the station to resume the near daily process of pruning, weeding, and watering the station’s small garden. 

He had been at it for around ten minutes when the first person stopped by to say hello. He continued to work as they spoke, the elderly lady just looking for some conversation. She was soon joined by her neighbors, and in no time at all, the front of the station was abuzz with gossip. 

Ignis would join in when prompted, but otherwise let the information filter through his head:

 Dave’s kid was caught sneaking back home with hickeys: gotta keep an eye on that since he’s still sixteen. 

Mrs. Nox was lamenting her toe fungus and receiving anecdotal advice: brain bleach. 

He should apparently be planting his tulips in winter: actively engage in the conversation and take notes. 

Dr. Young was having an affair with his secretary's sister: not relevant, but, and Ignis would deny this, he was titillated. 

The topic turned to the latest wedding and it took all his patience to not scream with frustration when that inevitably led to them inquiring about his love life and offering him marriage interviews with their young, single relatives. 

“My niece lives in the city, but has been meaning to settle down back home for some time.” 

“My friend’s cousin is about your age!” 

“If only I weren’t happy married and a few decades too old for you..” That makes him laugh. 

Fortunately, or would it be unfortunately, Ignis was more than used to it and was able to turn the conversation towards other matters, “How about that new cafe that opened up two towns over? The one that sells clover shaped cookies.” 

One of the ladies eagerly jumps on the topic, “I went with my granddaughter, last Sunday. She likes it well enough, teenager that she is, but it was too complex for me. A coffee should be just that, a coffee. Not some sugar cream coffee flavored mess of diabetes that costs double the price of my yarn. Coffee should be drunk black, if you can’t handle the raw bitterness of it then you shouldn’t be drinking it!”

The others burst into a chattering mix of dissent and agreement. Ignis smirked slightly, the danger passed in favor of a new debate. 

Over an hour or two passes, with no calls, and no emergencies. Ignis is just about finished with the garden, and the ladies have slowly dispersed to attend to other matters, taking their conversation, and company, to other areas of the town. 

He dumps the bits of plant and weeds in the compost at the side of the police box, meticulously cleans and puts away the tools, then washes up. He buys a can of hot ebony from the vending machine near the station, then settles down behind the front desk to do the daily paperwork. 

For a town as small and uneventful as Eos, there’s a surprisingly decent amount of paperwork involved. Gladio has accused him of being too meticulous and therefore increasing the actual amount of work required, but since Ignis did most of the paperwork anyways it’s not like he had any reason to complain and said as much.  

“If you want to make more work for yourself instead of try and socialize with anyone under the age of “my grandchildren have grandchildren” then that’s your prerogative. Just don’t expect me to try and match your manic pace. I’m more than confident enough in my capabilities as your senior officer, enough to know that it’s okay to take it easy. Maybe you should follow my example.”

Ignis stiffened, “You’re barely three months older than me, Gladiolus. Forgive me if I don’t take your playboy advice when I don’t have the Commissioner as my father to ensure my place in this field.” 

Gladiolus had scowled, then took a deep breath. They had only been stationed together for half a year at that point, and were still learning how to cooperate with each other. Despite the happy coincidence of having been childhood friends, they had lost contact nearly a decade prior, when Gladio’s parents divorced. Gladio’s father had been left with full custody of both Gladio and his sister, Iris, right as he got promoted. Unable to balance his work and home life, he sent them both to boarding schools abroad. As such, the topic of Gladiolus and Ignis’ personal lives led to quite a bit of tension due to their vastly different perspectives. 

Gladio exhaled, smiling a bit at the stricken look on Ignis’ face, “I know you didn’t mean that, at least, not in a mean way. And yeah man, I get it. I know I’ve had it easy when it came to getting this job but I know that you know that I also worked hard to be here.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have said that. I, of all people, should know how by having it “easy” we just have that much more to prove. I’m sorry.”

Gladio reached over and ruffled his hair, prompting a sharp slap at his hand, and eliciting fond grins on both their faces. “Make it up to me by letting me introduce you somebody! You gotta get laid my dude!”

“And with that, the moment is over. Go patrol, Officer Amicitia.” 

Ignis started from his reverie when said Officer Amicitia slammed a box of mandarin oranges on the desk in front of him.

“Got them from that vendor near my flat, as thanks for finding his dog. They’re just as sour as you are, Iggy!”

“Good morning to you as well, Gladiolus. You’re earlier than usual. It’s just gone ten thirty.”

“I know, but I wanted to bring these before I forgot about them. From the looks of it, you finished your Ebony awhile ago, and you don’t smell like mint, so there’s no reason for you not to eat at least one. Ward off scurvy and all that jazz.”

Ignis rolled his eyes fondly, already selecting one out of the box. He dug his thumb into the top, then proceeded to peel it, enjoying the scent of citrus that immediately started to fill the room. 

“Thank you, Gladio. Now go get changed.”

“You seem eager to get me out of these clothes.” Gladio winked.

“If I had a mind to seduce you, I promise I will do better than that.”

They both chuckled, Gladio heading to the back room and Ignis finishing up his report.

The rest of the day passed as usual, a few loitering youths to be scolded while on patrol, a few senior citizens with memory problems escaped from their caretakers, nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever. At 1800hrs Ignis clocked out, changed back into his civies, then said his goodbyes to Gladio and the elderly man who had stopped by for a chat.

“See you tomorrow, Amicita.”

“Later, Scientia.”

Ignis made his way home in the darkened back roads, looking forward to heating up and eating the leftovers in his fridge, a new stir fry recipeh he was testing out. He heard the sound of running and shouting and turned around just in time to get plowed into by a man at full speed. His training prevented himself from taking a tumble, but the other man was not as well off and landed hard on the road, obviously winded. He was also, at first glance, the most suspicious person he had ever laid eyes on: sunglasses at night, a cap pulled low over his eyes, a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face, and wearing dark baggy clothes. Ignis did a double take, surely he was mistaken, but he was not. Sure enough, in the man’s hand, was a pair of neon-green, lace and satin panties.

Gathering himself, he approached the still stunned man, “Well now, I may be off duty, but I’m afraid I can’t leave perverts roaming the streets. I’m going to have to take you in.”

“I swear officer, it’s not what it looks like!” 

“Oh?” Ignis arched his eyebrow, “I suppose the owner is perfectly aware and consenting of you running around town with their undergarments? Unless these are yours, in which case, I apologize. You really should be more aware of your circumstances, especially when running at full speed at night!” 

The man shifted around uncomfortably, his face paling as another pair of footsteps approached.

Ignis looked up and stared at the sight before him. A soaking wet and sudsy young man with dripping blonde hair and wearing nothing but a towel and some slippers was standing before him. Freckles were scattered in gorgeous clusters across his flushed skin and his plush pink lips were swearing up a storm.

“You disgusting low level pervert maggot. I’m going to fucking skin your dick with a butter knife and force it into a cactus you pathetic excuse of a worm. When I’m done your own mother won’t recognize your bloated corpse as it’s dredged from the sewers.”  

Ignis was taken aback by the vivid imagery but soon regained his composure, and addressed the young man who could only be the victim.

“Good evening, sir. My name is Ignis Scientia; I’m an off-duty police officer stationed near here. I was just about to take this young man in for questioning. Are you the owner of these?”

He gestured to the underwear thief on the floor and held out the panties gingerly.

“Ummm yeah, I’ll take those back! Thank you very much!” The blond’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he bunched the panties in his fist, his face and neck so bright red he could almost be mistaken for a stop sign, “Do what you want with that perv, I’m going home.” 

“You’re welcome, we’ve some spare clothes at the station if- Wait!”

But the young man was running back to wherever he came from, leaving a stunned and now evidence-less police officer behind him.

Ignis looked at the man on the ground, “I don’t suppose you’re in a confessing mood?”

Needless to say, he did his duty to bring the man in, but without evidence or a testimony beyond his own, the underwear thief was let go. Gladio laughed at his story, but took it as seriously as any other crime. He too, disliked when creeps got off easy, but there was nothing they could do. By the time Ignis finally made it back to his flat, he was exhausted and hungry, wanting nothing more than to shower, eat, and sleep. Of course, he had only just gotten out of the shower when the doorbell rang. Slipping on some pajama bottoms, and slinging the towel over his shoulders, he went to the door.

He opened it expecting Cindy or maybe Gladio on the other end. He wasn’t expecting a young man in a garishly tacky suit, with ridiculously styled blonde hair and dark sunglasses. He was accompanied by a woman in a black suit and sunglasses with an all too obvious bulge in her suit jacket.They honestly looked like they had just stepped right out of a cheesy mob show, but Ignis could tell from their aura that they were dangerous. At least, the woman definitely was, the young man looked so ridiculous that Ignis almost felt bad on behalf of all the mobsters whom he was giving a bad rep in the fashion department. He blinked, they didn’t vanish, he blinked again, they were still there. Damn where were his glasses? His autopilot took over, “Good evening, may I help you?”

The young man shrugged, “You kinda ready did, Officer. But you can let me in.” He smiled, a bit roguishly and the woman behind him tensed.

Ignis really didn’t need this getting back to his landlord or his boss, or anyone for that matter. He stepped back, gesturing to the inside of his flat.

“Of course, do come in Mister..?”

The young man followed him in, waving away the woman. “Stay in the car, Aranea. I’ll be fine.”

Ah, so she was his bodyguard. He must be the son of some one important then. Ignis closed the door behind them, but left it unlocked. Whether it was to reassure the woman of her easy access to her boss, or to reassure himself of his access to running for his life, he didn’t know.

“My name’s Prompto, Prompto Argentum.”

Ignis stiffened, he knew that name, there wasn’t a cop who didn’t. That also meant he knew Prompto’s fathers were the most notorious mobsters in the area and that their son, the young man in front of him, was bloody dangerous: a killer. What the devil was he doing in his flat? 

Seemingly oblivious to the tension in the air, Prompto kneeled on the floor, bowed his head to the ground and presented an Ignis a thick envelope.

 “Please accept my gratitude.”

 Ignis blinked then, fumbled for his glasses, and put them on. The young man was suddenly very familiar to him.

“Oh! It’s you! I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first.” He felt distinctly uncomfortable having someone so dangerous kneeling before him, “Please, sit up, there’s no need to thank me, I was just doing my job. Not to mention that without any evidence or witnesses the underwear thief was released, so I really don’t feel worthy of your gratitude.”

Prompto snorted, “You talk like my dads, just accept the money.” He sat back on the soles of his feet and waved the envelope around. 

Ignis squatted across from him, “If this is a bribe, I’ll have you know have more integrity than that.”

Prompto groaned dramatically, “It’s not a bribe, it’s a “Thank You for Stopping Some Random Perv From Stealing My Panties and Using Them To Jerk Off or Something Equally Gross” gift. I’d feel bad if I didn’t get you anything. Just accept it.”

 Ignis paused, considering his options, “Very well.” Taking the envelope, he emptied out the cash, placed the stack of bills into Prompto’s jacket pocket with a pat, then folded the envelope and put it in his pants pocket. 

“Gratitude accepted.”

Prompto started then grinned, a broad and cocky expression, taking off his sunglasses to reveal startlingly violet eyes. He clutched his gelled hair. “Awww damn it, it’s no good.”


“I think I’ve fallen for you.”

“I beg your pardon?” To say that Ignis was stunned wouldn’t even begin to cover the range of emotions he was feeling, and to say that this had been the single most peculiar day would be an understatement of how odd this entire situation was. “I’m not blind.” 

Prompto sneered good humoredly. Ignis huffed, “Just because I needed glasses to recognize you under that hideous outfit doesn’t make me blind.”

“Hey, what’re you calling hideous-“

“You’re the first and only son of two notorious crime lords, and you know that I’m a police officer. It’s kind of asking for disaster isn’t it? Not to mention we’ve only met once, how can you even be sure this isn’t the adrenaline or misplaced gratitude talking?”

The good-natured expression faded slightly from Prompto’s face, frustration showing behind his eyes. “That’s what Aranea said too, but I’d like to think that I, of all people, am more than capable of making the distinction between adrenaline fueled lust and love at first sight.” He huffed and crossed his arms, “So whaddya say? Take me to dinner?”

The sleepiness must’ve fully set in because Ignis was unable to stop himself from responding, “Just once.” Prompto’s eyes lit up, “But only to ascertain that you do not have romantic feelings for me. I get the feeling it would be easier to indulge you the once than to argue.” 

Prompto’s clearly chose to ignore the rest of Ignis’ statement as he flung himself into Ignis’ arms. Ignis stiffened, awkwardly patting him on the back from their uncomfortable positions of half squatting on his part and half kneeling on Prompto’s.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Prompto. I’d like for us to simply get to know each other first. As simply friends, if nothing else. I really don’t know you well enough yet, and you don’t know me.”

“Of course, of course! Whatever you say, boo! I’m gonna woo you so hard your brain’ll explode!”

Much to his own mortification, Ignis chuckled, “Yes, yes, now do get off me, my foot is falling asleep.”

“Shit, sorry!” Prompto scrambled to his feet, offering his hand, “Up ya go!”

Taking his hand, Ignis was easily pulled up. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he’s seen how muscular Prompto was under that suit, but he was a bit shocked all the same. They’re now standing face to face, on an even footing for the first time, and Ignis finally got a proper look at Prompto.

His suit was a hideous bright purple with green stripes and gaudy diamond cufflinks, his dress shirt a bright yellow silk with blue buttons, and his hairstyle looked like a chocobo butt. The young man himself stood a few centimeters shorter than Ignis, his forehead reaching his nose. He had a swagger and confidence to his stance, something that was obvious even before, and his face was happy, open, making him look so young and harmless even when Ignis knew he was likely anything but that.

He knew he had been staring for longer than was proper, but Prompto had been too. What did he see? Ignis could only wonder. A surprisingly large part of him hoped that he liked what he saw, but he ignored it. 

Prompto licked his lips, “Imma get out of your stupidly gorgeous hair now, but first gimme your phone.”

Ignis wordlessly walked over to the kitchen table then unlocked his phone and handed it to him. Stupidly gorgeous hair? Much to his horror, Ignis found that he was blushing. What the devil was wrong with him? That was playground flirting, and not even that good. He shouldn’t have been affected at all by Prompto’s words, let alone so strongly. Why was he even allowing this?  

Prompto added his number quickly, then snapped a selfie with his tongue sticking out and set it as his contact image. He then sent himself a text with far too many heart emojis and x’s and o’s. He tossed the phone back to Ignis.

“Let me know when is a good time for our date, honey bear.” 

He stood in the entryway, paused as if to say something, then yanked Ignis forward by the towel over his neck. Ignis caught himself on the doorframe, so that he was slightly leaning over Prompto and was suddenly very much aware of the fact that he was half naked and still dripping from the shower. They were close enough that Ignis could now smell him, a wonderfully strong and spicy cologne, which still wasn’t enough to hide the faint scent of blood, gunpowder, tobacco, and -oh gods damn it- pot, lingering on his suit.

They stood there, breathing in each other’s air. Prompto’s pupils were dilated to the point where they were almost entirely black, his face a clear study in arousal and Ignis knew he was probably no better off. Then Prompto blinked, grinned like the devil, and released his grip on Ignis’ towel, letting his fingers lightly graze his chest, tweaking his nipples with a playful "boop" before he opened the door and stepped outside with a sashay of his narrow hips and a wink.

“See you later, Officer!”

The door closed behind him, leaving a stunned and aroused Ignis leaning against the doorframe wondering what the actual fuck had just happened. 

 His phone buzzed and he checked the screen to see a received text from “Chocobaby” reading:


“Looking forward to our dinner date (*´∇`*)

I know a great BBQ place near the bus stop that we can go to after your shift ends! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ”


Another vibration accompanied a new text which read:


“Think of me? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)”


“Think of- oh…” Ignis sighed, a blush rising to his cheeks as he looked down at the tent in his trousers. “What have I gotten myself into?”