No scars, no time, no distance could stop how Gladio felt about Ignis. He thought the other was as beautiful as the day he'd fallen for him. He returned the kiss, bringing his hand down Ignis' body before shifting his mouth from his lips, placing the most delicate brush of his lips as the edge of the scarring.

"Good." A single low word as his hand brushed curls darker than on Ignis' head, sliding his nails through, around, underneath until he could cup Ignis in the broadness of his palm, rolling his sac on it.