“Night, Iggy,” Gladio says without a trace of shame.  One amused snicker later, he pulls away, but not before raking a hand through Ignis’s hair and decimating its stiff peak.

Noct’s there before Ignis can take a single step towards the apartment door. Noct’s kisses are as disheveled as he is, more tongue than lips with a lingering taste of fruity alcohol, but Ignis finds himself falling into them all the same.  Noct sways on his feet as he grips the front of Ignis’s dress shirt with both hands, hard enough to separate a few buttons at the top.

“Specs,” Noct mumbles again after breaking the kiss, nestling his face in the exposed triangle of skin on Ignis’s chest.  A sharp prick of teeth follows, eliciting a gasp from Ignis and quiet laugh from Noctis.

Ignis threads his gloved fingers through Noct’s hair and pulls him away. “That’s quite enough, Your Highness.” Noct’s lower lip juts out in a pout, a pout that disappears once Ignis drops a kiss on the top of his midnight hair.

“Don’t be long,” Noct says in Gladio and Prompto’s direction as he wanders off towards the bedroom.

“Prompto?” Ignis asks, knowing he prefers to be given the choice.

With a bright smile and minimal unsteadiness, Prompto crosses the distance to Ignis and winds his arms around his neck.  Ignis uses one hand to press against the small of Prompto’s back, pulling him close, and cradles the back of his head with the other.

“Good niiiiiiight, Igs.  Looooove you,” Prompto says.  He giggles and leans more of his weight on Ignis, tipping his face upwards and pursing his lips in a less-than-subtle hint.

“And I you.” Ignis does kiss him then, chaste and sweet.  Prompto steals another kiss after that, and another, each one with increasingly bold sweeps of tongue, until Ignis laughs and performs a gentle extrication of his limbs from Prompto’s.

Once Prompto follows the other two into the bedroom, Ignis lets out a soft sigh. He wants to stay, but seven in the morning is just around the corner.  He’s only a quarter of the way to the door when he hears a low, bass moan that can only belong to Gladio.

“Specccccccccs,” Noct calls, “You sure you don’t wanna stay? Gladio’s already naked.”

“So am I!” Prompto adds with giddy cheerfulness.

Ignis freezes mid-step.  His internal debate rages for a fierce sixty seconds before he turns back towards the bedroom. Ignis comes to a standstill as he reaches the doorway. The sight that awaits him sparks three occurrences simultaneously: his mouth goes dry, his resolve crumbles, and his blood rushes south.