Noctis was offering all of himself to Ignis, in small payment to the fact that Ignis had given all of himself for nearly all of his life to his liege. It was so much more than that, though. It was brotherhood, friendship, love, the latter more than anything else. He loved them all, his reasons to do all of this, to offer up his life.

He leaned into that touch, eyes closed and fighting down the urge to groan as this dream felt like reality. How many times had he dreamed about something so similar to this? It was hard, very hard, not to believe this was another dream caught up in the endless, slow swirl of light. Ignis kissing him, the touch of their lips, the tiny catch of the scar at Ignis' lips, the taste of it. The feeling of his hair tickling his fingertips. It was so easy, so much easy than he would have dreamed, to climb into Ignis' lap and straddle him.