[They both have their ways of dealing with things, their own particular training that has turned them into the people they are. Gladio confronts, sometimes far too brashly, while Ignis keeps his more bitter thoughts to himself and never raises his voice unless he truly needs to. He compartmentalises, and has been doing so for so long that he'd barely noticed the way he'd pushed his connection with Gladio into its own neat box along with everything else.

It made it easier to deal with, easier to act like nothing was going on in front of Noctis, easier to put his feelings to one side when he wanted to snap at Gladio to back off, to stop talking. It made it easier, on their journey, to keep things between them secret. The time had long since passed when it needed to be a secret, and yet...

It's always been more comfortable for Ignis to simply keep it that way.

The hand on his shoulder serves as enough of a warning yet he still tenses against the arm around him, all but rigid against the question he's asked. Another question that's so, so simple, so easy to answer.]

That isn't fair. [He murmurs, with the smallest shake of his head.] If I say no, I risk losing you. If I say yes, I risk losing you, and... I can't. [It's developed over years, this honesty. The way he can gently shuck off the bindings of propriety to display his feelings to this man, even if they often come out tangled.]

I can't lose you, Gladio. You're the only good thing I have left.