( He wants to point out that it’s probably not contagious, this was clearly the work of some toxin from their fight and not just a run of the mill flu or something similar. But he knows Ignis well enough to let him have this at least and shuffles around in the bed to accommodate his request. Even if it kind of sucks talking to a back instead of a face. Noct’s hands curl under his chin as he shifts a little, trying to get comfortable. Close but not quite touching — like it’s not really cuddling when he ends up all but barnacled to Ignis in the morning if they start out with that little bit of space between them. Sort of the new normal he’s fallen into since personal space and things like having a bed to oneself have gone out the window.

Really… sharing sleeping spaces has been a revelation in more than a few things.

There’s a huff of something that could almost be a laugh at Ignis’ attempt at a joke. ) I mean it, I’m fine. ( Cold, but really that was the least of the concerns at that moment. )

So come on, Specs, stop for even just an hour or two and get some rest. Let me worry about you for once. I promise the world won’t end. ( Not that it would be for once — Noct worries more than he’d ever say, mostly because he knows Ignis wouldn’t want to know. But he does, worry.

He bites at his lip for a moment, debating his next action before he lifts a hand and runs it along Ignis’ back. A soothing stroke, one he remembers Ignis doing to him countless times over the years when he himself was ill or upset. )