Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gladio produced an undignified chortle at his husband’s reply, grinning wildly as he shrugged his leather jacket on and sent out an attempt to a placating response.

Gladioʼs guffaw filled the hotel lobby as he hopped off the last few steps. Thankfully, no one else was there aside from some staff who were trained to be polite. For good measure, he issued several nods of apology as he marched out.

He was tapping out his reply when a fresh set of horns came through—from a sleek black car rolling up the driveway, graced with discreet corners, a sexy nose, and a quiet purple glimmer where the light touched it.

Traits that also reminded him of the driver who tipped his chic sunglasses downwards to look at him with his steel green eyes. “Looking for a ride, sir?” Today, he even had his hair up like some junior rocker, which he matched with a loud coeurl-print top—something that, until then, had only belonged to the annals of teen fashion. Fortunately for them, animal print and leather never went out of style.

Neither did the love they had for each other.

“You bet.” Gladio grinned, tucking his phone inside his jacket as he made his way around the car and got in the passenger’s seat.

Ignis tutted, reaching for his sideburns. “Should have shaved these off, too. I find myself rather nostalgic for your mullet.”

“Donʼt I wish?” Gladio chuckled, leaning over to him. “But I asked Capella if Papa could get his mullet back and she said no.”

They kissed briefly. Ignis peeled back to grin at him while he reached over to play a little with his half-ponytail. “Remind me to have a word with our daughter when we return. Anyway, shall we?” He carried his hands back to the steering wheel as Gladio righted himself. “Where to, sir?”

“If the mister doesn’t mind…” Gladio pushed his seat back for more legroom. With a smile, he requested of his husband, “I’m jonesing for some Kenny’s Special.”

Ignis barked out a healthy laugh, manning the gear. “Very well, if that’s what the mister says.” Smoothly, they glided out of the driveway and into the major thoroughfare.

While much of the life they were used to before the Long Night had been restored, some things were bound to have changed permanently.

Crow’s Nest was one of them; despite its ubiquity in the past, the darkness had done quite a number on its branches, including the original at Old Lestallum. Kenny Crow would have all but disappeared from existence if not for an orphan of those ten long years who one day dreamed of seeing the diner return to life.

Two decades later, and the tarpaulin red seats were back, as was the checkered black and white floor. The logo, though, no longer carried a smidgen of the original design, and the salmon that the restaurant had once been known for was no longer available on the menu.

Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Gladio couldnʼt find himself complaining. A little imagination, after all, was all he needed to remember the days from thirty years back.

“I canʼt believe you really thought you wouldn’t rock those threads anymore,” he laughed after the serving staff across the counter left with their orders. He carried his cheek on his fist so he could twist himself and view his husband comfortably.

Ignis held a muffled chuckle in his smile as he put down his glass of water. “I suppose I shouldn’t have doubted myself, hm? I must admit, while I was styling my hair I was stunned by how much of my youth still lingered. Despite my little gray hairs and my…” he brushed the lines along his eyes self-consciously, “Little crow’s feet…”

“And your laugh lines,” Gladio volunteered.

Ignis popped a brow at him and smirked slightly. Thirty years later and that look still brought a thrill down Gladioʼs spine. “Indeed. Your precious laugh lines.”

“Donʼt blame me.” Gladio grinned. “You used to be so serious back in our 20s, getting even a little smile out of you was harder than getting Noct to eat vegetables. Every time I made you laugh, I felt like a king.”

“I certainly don’t remember myself being as grave as you’re making me,” Ignis retorted with a slight furrow along his brows. “You, though, you’ve barely changed at all. Still charming, still quite tall, dark and handsome…” He poked at his tummy under his black tank top. “Though a little softer than what your vain 20s would have allowed you to be.”

“Hey,” Gladio tutted softly as he captured that offensive hand and brought it to his lips. “Itʼs not his fault he wasnʼt married to the most wonderful husband in the cosmos yet.” He brushed his lips briefly over his palm before he kissed it. Ignis freed himself from his touch so he could bring his hand to his jaw and caress his beard. It always made him smile when he did that.

“What he would have thought,” Ignis mused in delight, “if he only knew that we would be together for thirty years since the day he asked me out on a date in Crow’s Nest.”

“He wouldnʼt believe it,” Gladio answered confidently, kissing what he could of Ignis’ pulse, “even if an Astral had come down to tell it to his face. He couldnʼt even believe he’d scored a date with the hottest guy in the car.”

“Not much of a competition, really.” Ignis snickered, and Gladio joined him. “It wasn’t my ideal first date,” he revealed suddenly as Gladioʼs lips progressed to the inside of his forearm, smiling at his sweetness. “Homeless, tired, afraid, jaded…but gods, I wouldnʼt dream of changing a single thing about it.”

Gladio had been about to speak if not for the gentle throat-clearing beside them. They whipped to see the red-faced serving staff carrying their orders—quarter pounder burgers, large fries, sundaes and tall cups of soda.

He straightened up with a polite smile and muttered his thanks as they stiffly laid down their trays and exited with a choppy spiel. When he and Ignis caught each other’s eyes, they laughed.

“Right, let’s dig in. Here,” Gladio said as he dipped some fries into his sundae and offered it to Ignis, singing, Ahhh. Ignis opened his mouth and ate the fries straight off his fingers.

They laughed again like a pair of teenagers.

From the darkness came light.

Ignis wriggled his way closer to his husband until he had practically crossed over to his seat just so he could snuggle with him. Gladio welcomed him with an arm along the back of his waist as the large screen resolved itself into white, which little by little revealed a grand city in ruins, practically reclaimed by nature.

“This was a fun date,” Ignis moaned happily as the movie began. “Iʼm glad you managed to convince me to re-enact our first date for our 30th anniversary…”

“Feels more like weʼre avenging it, though,” Gladio chuckled. “Remember? That night, we couldnʼt sleep from all the coffee we had so we spent the whole night binging this TV show on my phone.” They started to laugh through their noses. “Think we cleared two seasons, and then the next day, Noct was stuck behind the wheel.”

“Oh yes,” Ignis sighed. “I had to make him his favorite to appease him. We were both quite embarrassed by our lack of foresight.”

“But we turned out okay in the end, yeah?” Gladio laughed, tracing the shape of his husbandʼs jaw lightly.

“We did,” Ignis mumbled in bliss, those green eyes on him. “More than we could have imagined.” After all those imperials, those daemons, everything they lost…

And now, they were married, despite it all. “Happy anniversary, Mr. Amicitia,” Gladio whispered, drawing closer to him.

“Here’s to more, Mr. Scientia,” Ignis gasped, opening his mouth.

Thirty years later and Ignisʼ soft lips still made his heart dance electric. Gladio pulled him closer to him, their mouths melding into one as Ignis brought his hands to the back of his neck, and their tongues to meet.

As soon as he had negotiated the door, Gladio kicked it open and waddled in, his hands already straining under his husband’s ass while Ignis wrapped himself around him with his arms and legs. Normally, even at their age, this would not be a problem for him. But Ignis kept their mouths and tongues connected as he ground his hardness against his abs, which only added to the blissful pressure between his own legs.

When his knees hit the bed, he flung his husband down and shucked his jacket, leaving it to pool next to his feet as he stripped off his shirt next. In his youth, Ignis would be all over him by now, reaching for his pectorals to squeeze them, running his tongue up the valley between, or down the perfectly sculpted muscles along his arms.

In their 50s, he still did the same—only this time he sought the stretch marks, the scars that buried his faded ink. His tongue ran free along each as his hands moved feverishly to undo Gladioʼs bottoms and seize his shape with his greedy hands. A fiery chill stabbed Gladio up his nipples and down his knees.

With a groan he started dancing into his touch while Ignis found his way to his right teat to suckle it. In his haze, Gladio spied Ignis’ other hand pulling his own flesh out to give it some much-needed attention.

The sight of it brought him to a feral rage and Ignis to his back when he shoved him down. They raced each other to get their legs and their feet free until Gladio could climb over Ignis crawling back to their pillows, a manic grin on both their faces. He seized that mouth and sucked it while his hands finally found their way to Ignis’ shirt and tore it open.

Thirty years, and he still desired every inch of him—the parts flawed by Lucian magic, the broken bones, the layer of softness over his once-flat belly. My Ignis—this is my Ignis, he thought with a giddy shudder.

Gladio sucked and bit the skin of his stomach before he made his way up the rough patches of his scars and then his teat to lap it up like a dog. As he was in his 20s, Ignis still whimpered and kicked whenever he teased his nipples, and gasped and moaned when his husband grasped him and stroked him lovingly. Gladio finally laid himself flat over his long body as his mouth found his neck and nibbled at a patch of skin.

“Will you make it obvious?” Ignis groaned deeply, his deft fingers finding Gladioʼs heavy flesh to give it a few good pumps. It sent a wave of pleasure around his ass, which left Gladio speechless until he could only nod. “Good. Show this kingdom who’s my husband. I want them to know how fucking married we are.”

Another ticklish lightning danced across Gladioʼs skin. With a wolfish grin, he growled to Ignis’ ear, “You know, it still fucking turns me on whenever you curse during sex.”

Ignis turned to him, his gaze already half-lidded and his cheeks pink. “You’ve never changed, though, Mr. Scientia,” he grunted through his euphoria. “Stay this way for me, husband.”

Gladio beamed at his words. “Aye, aye, Cap’n Amicitia.” He crushed their mouths together, their tongues meeting in an eager embrace.

Later on, their rhythmic moans would join in as they tangled themselves into a blissful union.