Ignis' lack of looking at Noct had everything to do with the wistful, longing expression he couldn't hide, whether Noct could read it for what it was or not. He didn't want to make Noctis uncomfortable — or more uncomfortable than he clearly was. He'd known him for so long that he could pick up when his smile was forced, and seeing it, even as he moved closer, asking about coffee, hurt. Something sad crossed Ignis' face and he had to look down, away, resist the urge to be the one to retreat. These conversations, normal and about nothing in particular, were starting feel like he was reading from a script or some sort, all the words right but the feeling wrong. He shouldn't have let it get to this point.
"Please, help yourself," he replied, automatically and politely. As if Noctis wasn't his oldest, dearest friend. As if he wasn't in love with him. Ignis' fingers tightened around his mug and he knew he had to stop this, face whatever would happen if he brought the kiss up. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Well, it could, and that was half of the problem, wasn't it? Ignis sighed, soft, and leaned against the counter, trying to relax. He knew he was starting to look as tense as he felt and he didn't want that. He'd asked Noct to stay in hopes of… what? Talking now, without a plan? Gods. That was the other half of his problem, wanting to have a plan in place for every possible outcome. That worked well in politics and battle, but not so well when faced with his feelings.
"I can't seem to sleep, either," he replied after a pause, sounding more like himself, like things were actually normal. If he took a step or two closer, he'd be able to reach out and touch. Besides the forced smile, Ignis loved seeing Noct like this, casual, soft-looking, hair unstyled from sleep, and there was that longing again, crowding the breath out of his chest. He watched Noct for a moment, scared of what was his expression might be showing and missing his glasses. It was easy to hide behind them, something that had both allowed him to see more clearly while also being something of a barrier between him and the rest of the world.
"If I do sleep through breakfast, I dare say you'll all live for one morning." That was easy to joke about, at least, his voice dipping a little at the end in a faint huff of laughter. It brought a brief, split-second feeling of normalcy before it faded. Noctis not sleeping wasn't a new thing — he'd always been one to nap during the day and be up at random hours, but with everything between them — and Ignis could feel the tension there, something building — he was worried. Awkwardness wouldn't ever stop him from caring about Noctis, or about worrying, and if this sleeplessness had something to do with Ignis just as Ignis' current run of restless nights had to do with Noctis, he really couldn't let this go on.
He set his mug on the counter, took a breath to steady himself, and moved a little closer. There was still space, but he if he wanted to, he could reach out and just barely let his fingers brush over Noct's arm. Gods, he wanted to. He wanted to apologize, didn't know where to start, all his years of training and practice to know what to say when and exactly how to say it escaping him as he looked at his friend. His friend.
"Noct, are you alright?" That was an entirely unfair question, asking Noct to open up when Ignis himself had been going out of his way not do so. He could change that now. Nervous, Ignis sighed, that uncertain smile back as he searched Noct's face for... anything, really. "You don't have to answer. I… haven't been myself lately, and I'm sorry." Hadn't been himself. What an understatement. He'd been moping around since Noct's birthday, and he knew it.