Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- - Four - -

He’s been in the tub before.

It’s cold and wet and there’s something poking him in the arm, stuck there with itchy tape. He tries to scratch it away, peel it off, but hands bat his fingers away every time. He cries, even though he knows it won’t help and slumps miserably against the icy edge of the tub.

Around him, the tall people holding rectangles talk, saying words he doesn’t understand.

“- metabolism is slow, we’ll have to keep an eye on his intake.”

“Really looks like him though. Don’t you think?”

“You think he was a cry-baby runt, too?”

The room falls silent so quickly that his own cries halt too, surprised by the sudden lack of noise.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” snaps one of the tall people, the one standing across the room from him, the one that never comes close enough to touch him. They have pretty hair, long, silvery waves of the stuff and he always likes looking at it when she's near. At least until the other people start poking and prodding him.

“This place isn’t actually bugged,” says the one that had smacked his hands away before, “Besithia isn’t listening. They just say that to keep us in line.”

“He’s a child,” the silver-haired one responds.

He doesn’t know what any of this means.

“For now.”

- - -

He’s taken to a room he’s never been in before. It’s very white with very bright lights and a strange looking chair in the middle. The chair is hooked up to a little machine with another tall person stood by it. They’re wearing clothes that he’s not ever seen before, they’re blue, not grey or white like he’s used to seeing. So he doesn’t know what job this person does.

He’s lifted and put in the chair and the one that walked with him pulls his arm and places it along a flat, cold thing under the little machine. The other one straps it down, tight enough that he can’t move even a tiny bit, barely able to wiggle his fingers.

“You remember when we used to have to hold them down?” the one that walked him asks.

The blue one laughs, “I remember when we used to do these all by hand. Some of the first ones were awful, barely helped.”

“Didn’t keep good records then anyway.”

Blue taps something on the screen and he finds himself wiggling uncomfortably on the chair, too little to sit back and get comfortable with his arm strapped down.

“Number?”

The one that walked him raises the rectangle in his hand and taps it, “N dash lowercase I, P O -”

“O or zero?”

“Zero, 1 3 5 7.”

“Scan this,” Blue says and the other one passes his rectangle over the small screen. There’s a beep and he says, “Code generated.”

At first what he feels is like his injections. The things they always say will make him feel better but actually hurt and make him sad. But its okay, he can handle that, he’s always managed it before. He’s learnt it will be over soon.

But its not over soon, the pin pricks get worse, harder, there’s more of them. They go on and on and on, his whole arm buzzing from the pressure, the pain.

He tries not to cry but the tears stream down his face in hot streaks.

“Least he’s not screaming,” the one in blue says.

- - Five - -

The girl ahead of him catches her foot on the edge of the obstacle she’s climbing and N-iP01357 watches her fall in a strange kind of slow motion. At first she doesn’t make any noise, seemingly in shock as he body almost bounces from the impact.

But then she splits the air with a heart wrenching cry.

N-iP01357 crawls out from under the low barricade and moves as fast as his little legs will carry him to her side. She quietens as soon as his hand touches her back.

N-iP01357 doesn’t recognise her but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s new, he rarely sees the same people over and over again, sometimes he’ll have someone in one of the rooms he goes to every day for a while and then they’ll disappear, only to reappear a long time later in the place where he eats or the cold room where he gets clean.

She’s got yellow hair, cut short like everyone else, and blood on her palms from the rough landing.

“Help you?” Prompto offers, holding out a hand.

The corners of her mouth pull upwards and she reaches out, fingers warm as they touch.

“No touching,” a voice barks, but N-iP01357 ignores it, doesn’t really understand what it means or why they’re saying it.

He keeps hold of the girls hand and walks her over to the next barrier, showing her how to put her foot up to make it easy to swing over.

“Stop,” the voice says again, closer.

N-iP01357 doesn’t realise he’s the one being spoken too until a hand grips the top of his arm and yanks him backwards. He stumbles, hitting the floor and immediately curls up and goes silent, knowing its the best way to make things like this end quickly.

The girl cries out again but N-iP01357 doesn’t look up, doesn’t reach out to help her. He wants too, but he also doesn’t, too frightened of the consequences now he realises what he did was wrong.

Roughly he’s pulled to his feet and N-iP01357 goes easily, getting his feet underneath him and moving them quickly, trying to walk beside the tall man rather than be dragged. The man pushes them through a door, so they’re back in the hallway and out of the exercise hall. He's pushed into a different tall one - one of the ones without one of the rectangles but with one of the weird metal things that makes the loud noises - and N-iP01357 stumbles right into their leg.

“Careful,” they say and N-iP01357 thinks he’s being reprimanded again but when he looks up the two tall ones are glowering at each other.

“Take him back to his bunk, he’s to get no more rations today,” the rough one says.

N-iP01357 stomach sinks. He must have been bad. Really, really bad to be punished so harshly. N-iP01357 doesn’t understand why though. It felt good to help her, to make her stop crying and show her how to do it the right way.

“They’ve only had one meal today,” the other one argues, “You don’t have the authority to extend punishments that far.”

N-iP01357 has never heard the word meal before but he supposes it means one of the periods of time in which they gather to eat.

“I’ve got more authority that you,” the rectangle wielding one snaps.

There’s a pause, silence that almost hurts N-iP01357’s ears and then the one from the hallway, the one whose leg he’s still pressed up against says, “Come on, Kid.”

Kid, N-iP01357 thinks.

He’s never heard that word before.

It’s a long walk back to his bunk and as usual the tall one makes no effort to speak to him and N-iP01357 knows better - usually - than to speak other than to answer a direct question.

He used to not be so good at that. Asking whats and whys and hows. He's learnt better.

They stop at the end of a long hallway and the tall one taps the wall above where N-iP01357 needs to scan his wrist. When he does there’s a loud buzz followed by a clank then a light above a door about halfway down the hallway glows green.

Usually, at the end of the day or during a lockdown, they have them all line up by number, printed on their arm and their clothes, and they open up one by one, filing down the hallway.

N-iP01357 remembers back when he was small and they'd bunked a dozen to a room. They weren’t allowed to talk, but it was nicer than the alternative.

“In you go, kid,” he says as they reach the open door.

There’s that word again. Kid.

The room is pitch dark, lit up only by the hallway and as the door closes behind him N-iP01357 is plunged into complete darkness.

N-iP01357 sits on his cot, feeling numb. He’s not going to eat again today. Will they even let him out for exercise and lessons? Or is he in here now until morning? N-iP01357 can’t comprehend exactly how much time that is but it feels endless.

There’s a window in the door, covered by sliding metal, that the tall ones can use to check up on them without unlocking the door and it opens up now, the face of the one that just escorted him here appears alongside a flood of light from the hallway.

“Better than sitting in the dark, huh?” they say and their mouth pull up at the edges. N-iP01357 feels one side of his do the same without him consciously deciding for it to do so, “I’ll see about getting you something to eat later, kid, okay?”

N-iP01357 is alone for a long time after that. It’s completely silent and still apart from twice when the shadow of someone patrolling the hallway walks past. They don’t bother to check on him and as the day drags onward N-iP01357 tries to sleep but by what he estimates to be about 1600 hours his stomach is growling, uncomfortable in its emptiness. There’s another pain too. His bladder so full it hurts. Usually he gets to relieve himself several times a day. But he’s not yet at the level where his bunk has its own waste receptacle and he dare not make a mess like that.

The punishment doesn’t bear thinking about.

Another long time passes and the noise of everyone returning to their bunks comes and goes. Shortly after the light from the hallway goes out and N-iP01357 tries to settle, tries to ignore the various aches in his belly. N-iP01357 startles out of a stupor by the light suddenly flooding back through the little window, no one having bothered to slide the metal back across.

The same tall one from earlier appears in the window and then the whole door opens. N-iP01357 sits up, but stays rooted to his cot.

“Hey, champ,” he says, sliding into the room closely followed by another tall one, a woman who he recognises from the sterile place where sometimes he gets poked by needles. Her long silvery hair is all twisted together in one long tail today.

Champ. That's another word N-iP01357 doesn’t know.

She’s holding a pouch of fluid and a bucket, which is placed in the corner and then crouches down in front of him, presenting the pouch. The man crouches too and from a pocket he pulls something, carefully unwrapping one of the nutrition squares they usually get fed when they’re not returned to the designated eating room for food.

“Take it,” the woman says, almost whispering, “Quickly, we can’t stay long.”

N-iP01357 takes the pouch. He doesn’t want to drink it, even though his throat is bone dry, doesn't want it to fill him up even more, make the pain worse.

“He probably needs to piss,” the man grumbles. Yet another word N-iP01357 doesn’t understand.

“Oh,” the woman says, taking it back, “Do you need to relieve yourself?”

N-iP01357 feels his face go warm and he looks down at the floor as he nods.

“You can use this,” she says, tapping the bucket, “We’ll look away.”

N-iP01357 feels something in his chest, itchy and hot, as he unzips his clothes enough to be able to empty his water. It’s noisy and his face warms further as finishes, pulling his jumpsuit back up over his arms and zipping it all the way up. He’ll get a new one tomorrow morning, tomorrow is a day where they visit the wash-room, if N-iP01357 is remembering his routine properly.

“All done?” the man asks, turning to look over his shoulder.

N-iP01357 hopes the smell doesn't bother them.

The woman passes the fluid off to the man then quickly bustles the bucket outside the room. N-iP01357 feels that itchy, hot feeling from before explode, the force of it inside him almost knocking him down.

“Hey, hey,” the man says gently, “Don’t worry about that.”

The woman is back, crouching down again. She reaches inside the white coat she’s working and brings out a small bottle, “Hold out your hands,” she says.

N-iP01357 does so, used to following orders by now. She squirts something onto his palms and tells him to rub his hands together, miming what he should do. The liquid is cold, tingling slightly as he rubs it around and it smells like the sterile room where they give him his injections.

“There,” she says, handing him back the pouch.

N-iP01357 wrinkles his nose as he takes it, smelling the familiar scent of the weird nutrition drink they take when they’re below optimum health. It doesn’t taste much different to normal liquid but it feels funny in his mouth. He drinks it all down though, relishing the coolness and the way it removes the strange sluggishness from his mind.

“Shit, Rina, we should have bought him more,” the man whispers, handing him the nutrition square, “Eat up, kid.”

Kid, N-iP01357 thinks again. It must be another designation for someone at his training level. Or perhaps something that indicates all subordinates.

Eat up, is also not a phrase he’s heard before but eat is something he’s more than familiar with so he breaks off a piece and pops it in his mouth.

“It was all I could do to get that one,” the woman says. N-iP01357 thinks her designation might be Rina, but its nothing like any designation he’s ever heard before. It has no numbers. “I don’t have anything to do with nutrition, if they’d caught me in there, or with that one…”

“It’s okay,” the man says, “This is better than nothing.”

N-iP01357 continues to eat, its a bit slow going, hard to chew without his usual cup of plain fluid to help ease the way.

“Do none of them talk?” the man whispers to the woman.

“They can,” she says back, “They’re just taught mostly not to. He’s particularly quiet.”

The man makes a noise.

“He doesn’t know any differently,” the woman says.

“We better go,” the man says, as N-iP01357 pushes the last bit of nutrition square into his mouth. It wasn’t enjoyable to eat, but he feels better, now there’s something inside him to fight against the hunger pains.

“Try to sleep now,” the woman says to him and together the two tall ones stand and leave. They both look in through the window in his door for a long moment once he’s locked back inside. She looks sad, N-iP01357 realises with a start and the same feeling wells up inside him as she slowly pulls the metal panel across the window and disappears.

- - Six - -

N-iP01357 doesn’t understand what the thing on the table is for but he knows how to take it apart and put it back together. And he knows if he does it right four times in a row he’ll get a full portion of rations at his midday meal.

Rations might not taste very good but its better to be full of them than have to spend the day with a belly aching for something to fill it.

N-iP01357 snaps the last piece into place - a moving mechanism that would make the device do something if these weren’t ‘simply prototypes’ - and then settles it back down on the table and takes a half step back to signal his completion of the task. Just like he’d been trained.

A scientist steps up to him then and inspects his work. They nod, face immovable, and pull a green band free from the hook on their tablet.

“Arm,” they say and Prompto obediently holds out his right hand. They snap the green band around his wrist, right under the mark that lets everybody know what he is, and N-iP01357 knows that he’ll be well fed for training that afternoon.

- - Seven - -

They’re in the place the scientists call ‘outside’ today. But from everything N-iP01357 has learnt in lessons this isn’t really outside at all. It’s surrounded by four walls, for a start, and it has a roof. The roof is made of glass, but its grimy, covered in debris and dirt, but through it on really bright days N-iP01357 can catch glimpses of the sky.

N-iP01357 is fast. He’s the fastest in this group by quite a margin, meaning he gets a precious few seconds to stand the other side of the line to catch his breath and squint up through murky glass and look at the sky. N-iP01357 likes the sky, he thinks, as much as he likes anything.

He likes the midday rations they get when they have little green flecks in them - they look worse but somehow taste better. He likes assembling what he now knows is a gun and the few times they’ve been taken to the special room where they’re allowed to play with them. Pulling the triggers and making neat little holes in the targets.

N-iP01357 is good at that. It’s where he excels most, apart from here, apart from running.

“Pathetic,” the scientist yells as the last one crosses the line, “Again.”

Obediently they start to file back over to the start line. N-iP01357 isn’t worried about doing it again, he thinks he could do it forty more times if he had to -

“N-iP01357,” a new voice calls and only belatedly does he realise the double doors back into the facility proper have opened. He snaps to attention, stopping his movements and waits for instructions. It feels weird to technically be disobeying orders right now but the second voice is also a scientist and N-iP01357 isn’t yet privy to the intricacies within the chain of command.

“You taking that one?” asks the scientist running the training.

“Medical,” they say and N-iP01357’s heart sinks. Not once, not ever, has he come away from medical feeling better or even as good as he did when he got there.

“He’s not defective,” he argues, tapping something on his tablet.

“Need to do some tests -” he pauses to look down at his own tablet “- speed. Stamina. You sure you recorded his times right?”

Even from across the way N-iP01357 can see him bristle at the suggestion.

“It’s all automated, I couldn’t -”

“I’m joking,” says the new one. N-iP01357 knows what a joke is, in theory, but this doesn’t feel like one.

The scientist by the door repeats N-iP01357’s designation and he walks over, immediately holding up his wrist so they can perform the change over. He’s scanned twice and then he’s following the second scientist through hallways with no more instruction than a rough order to keep up.

When they get to medical he’s taken past the rooms he’s usually put in to be prodded and poked. From one room echoes a high pitched cry and N-iP01357 feels his shoulders bunch together, uncomfortable at the obvious noise of pain.

He’s lead through into a larger room than he’s expecting, there are two scientists in there, both wearing the long coats that make other people call them Doctor. With a start N-iP01357 recognises the one with long, pretty hair, almost glowing under the lights.

Rina, his mind supplies, though he’s heard her referred to differently, an addendum to her Doctor designation.

Recognition passes her face too, when she looks at him and she turns around quickly, facing the monitors on the wall behind her.

She’s stood near a treadmill, a device N-iP01357 recognises but hasn’t used in a long time. It was where they all learnt to run, before they became a high enough level to be permitted outside. N-iP01357 hopes he gets to do more running, at least.

“The usual,” the one escorting him says.

“Scan him in and I’ll take it from here,” Rina says and then N-iP01357 feels his arm lifted, pulled towards the treadmill and held momentarily under a scanner.

The scientist that isn’t a doctor leaves the room and Rina comes towards him.

Softly she says, “I’ll need you to remove the top half of your uniform, so I can attach these -” she holds up some adhesive discs that N-iP01357’s had stuck to him before “- but then you can put it back on again.”

N-iP01357 does as he’s told, standing perfectly still as she applies four of the little discs across his chest with gentle hands. They’re probably the gentlest hands N-iP01357 remembers feeling. When she steps back N-iP01357 dresses himself again.

“The machine will start slow and build slowly as we progress,” she explains, indicating he should step onto the part of the machine that will soon move, “If you need to stop simply grab the railing on each side and put your feet onto the edges. You don’t need to ask permission to stop. Do you understand?”

N-iP01357 nods but the machine doesn’t start so he turns to look at Rina more fully. She stares at him expectantly and slowly he realises she wants a more obvious confirmation.

N-iP01357 swallows and says, “Yes,” his voice rough from disuse. He tries to remember the last time he spoke and struggles.

Rina smiles at him, a pretty quirk at the corner of her mouth and then she steps back, pressing a few buttons so the machine slowly comes to life beneath N-iP01357’s feet.

“Why is this one underweight,” Rina says into the office.

The other one makes a noise, like she was a bit startled by the question then says, “Code?”

N-iP01357 hears Rina’s sigh, but he can’t a imagine the other doctor can. She reels off his designation and even from across the room N-iP01357 can hear the noise of the other one typing it into the keyboard.

“He’s on 88% rations,” she says.

“What?”

“Says he has a slow metabolic rate. Were concerns he would easily become overweight.”

Rina splutters slightly then says, “Well clearly they were wrong.”

The other one laughs, “Look. I can put him up to 94% but if what we think is happening to his eyes is true then he’ll be transferred soon and it won’t matter.”

N-iP01357 struggles to understand what any of this means. He didn’t realise he was in less than optimal condition. Surely someone should have caught this earlier? And what’s wrong with his eyes? He can’t even begin to understand what transferred means.

“Why do you even care?” the one at the desk asks, “Nutrition is well below your pay grade.”

Rina pauses, and it takes all of N-iP01357’s self control not to look at her.

“I can’t get the results he wants with shoddy equipment.”

After a while, when N-iP01357 has progressed to moving at a speed that shortens his breath a little, there’s some sort of commotion to the west of them. There’s a loud crash and a scream, then several voices all talking at once.

Both Rina and the other doctor turn, but N-iP01357 knows better than to do so. He’s curious, he’s always curious, a majority of his punishments over the years were handed down because he asked unnecessary questions. But he’s better now, has more control, better self awareness.

“Go help,” Rina says, “I’ll watch - watch this one.”

The door opens - the ruckus sounds louder, the pained cry from earlier is back, heightened to a howl - then closes and he’s alone with Rina. He hears her footsteps approach, she wears those shoes with a thin heel that must be desperately uncomfortable, and then softly her fingers touch his shoulder.

N-iP01357 starts so badly he almost loses his footing and Rina shushes him, making a soft soothing sound with her mouth that touches something right on the edge of N-iP01357’s memory. Then almost so gently N-iP01357 thinks he’s imagining it her fingers move up, running through his hair. It falls between her fingers, getting displaced and ruffled, N-iP01357 must be due a haircut soon. Her fingers pull through his hair again, with more purpose, fingertips just brushing his scalp and N-iP01357 feels a hot rush of tears well unexpectedly and inexplicably in his eyes.

Rina shushes him again, “It’ll all be over soon. I promise. Its almost over.”

N-iP01357 hears the promise in her tone but doesn’t understand what she really means.

But he knows he feels something warm and comforting in his belly he’s not ever felt before.

- - Eight - -

N-iP01357 is confused.

And his head hurts.

He’s usually so good at this, shooting perfectly into the centre ring on target.

Sometimes they replace the round targets with ones that look like people and they ask N-iP01357 to shoot at the small target in its head which he doesn’t like to do so much.

But recently he’s been struggling, not able to make his eyes focus on things more than a few metres away. He’s still managing to hit the target but not with his usual finesse, still up to the standards of many people in his group. Unfortunately for N-iP01357 they don’t measure success against a baseline but against your previous performance.

Its with almost no surprise then that N-iP01357 is escorted - along with two others in his group - straight back to his bunk room rather than being taken to the food hall.

Unless the schedule changes, and N-iP01357 really doesn’t think its due a change, he’s got a really active day tomorrow. They’ll be going outside, running and climbing things.

N-iP01357 can’t imagine how difficult that's going to be when he’s already so hungry its bordering on pain.

-

He’s been in a fitful sleep for a few hours when it happens.

The loudest noise N-iP01357 has ever heard sounds somewhere in the distance followed two seconds later by the lights flickering on and every alarm and siren in the facility blaring all at once.

For a long time after than nothing happens.

Its impossible to hear anything over the alarms so he has no way of gauging what anyone else is reacting to this or try and work out what’s happening.

Then, all the alarms cut out and the doors in his row unlock all at once.

N-iP01357 recognises the noise, as it happens every morning for the early roll call, but he recognises nothing that happens after.

He edges to the door of his room and peers out, seeing many of the others doing the same thing, and half a dozen people - soldiers - dressed all in black come striding into view. They seem to come up short, staring at them all stood in their doorways. They’re holding guns but one by one they all holster them, tucking small ones into straps on thighs and strapping longer ones across their back.

“Holy shit,” one of them says, “They’re kids.”

“I thought the others were lying,” another one says, “They’re all kids, all of them.”

“What do we do?” says a third, barely above a whisper. She comes to a stop before N-iP01357 and crouches down. She raises a hand and N-iP01357 recoils on instinct, stepping back into his room.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says and N-iP01357 is surprised to see her eyes look wet.

“Get the Marshal on the line,” the first one says, “We need new orders.”

He hears someone else talking then, a short distance away and a reply slightly distorted by whatever communication device they’re using.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” the woman in front of him says, “You’re all getting out of here.”

-

Outside - the real outside - is bright.

So bright that N-iP01357 recoils from the light at first, having looked straight up at it as he was lead out through huge set of doors, middle position of his line.

His line is just one of many.

N-iP01357 understood that there were others here, lots of others, but he hadn’t understood the scale. There are many people that he sees, every day or near enough, and some he sees only once or twice.

N-iP01357 can’t possibly describe how many of them there as he follows the person in front of him through the churned up snow. There’s some taller - older - than him and some smaller. Lots of the smaller ones are crying, some of them being carried by these strange soldiers in black.

These soldiers are different to what N-iP01357 has experienced before. They’re kind and they smile, using soft words to move them along and lead them out of the facility.

It’s cold outside too. N-iP01357 wouldn’t say that inside is warm, but they don’t normally touch the snow and their uniforms don't seemed designed for the drop in temperature. Slowly, as his line moves forward, water seeps into his shoes.

N-iP01357 doesn’t care.

The warm feeling is back in his belly, the feeling he can’t put a name too. N-iP01357 hasn’t ever been anywhere but here but he also can’t imagine anywhere being worse, even if he doesn’t really know what better means.

As he gets closer to the fence he realises that its been split open in several places, holes torn wide with transports waiting beyond them, soldiers ferrying units back and forth.

Someone's waiting for them at the end of their line - two someones he realises as they get closer - and they’re scanning their barcodes with the tablets and then sending them off to different transports based on something they see.

Three people ahead of them, the girl that N-iP01357 had helped to her feet all that time ago has her wrist scanned.

“Arianna?” says the woman who scanned her.

The girl freezes and then she sobs, a noisy startling sound that makes N-iP01357 flinch.

“It’s alright,” the woman says softly, “We’re going to get you home now. It’s going to be okay.”

There’s a man stood beside the woman and he waves a soldier over - he looks like a soldier too but he has a long sword strapped at his hip and his uniform is just different enough from everyone else's to be noticeable. When he arrives he glances at the screen the woman is holding and then says, “Transport 3A.”

“Almost full, sir,” the soldier says.

“I know,” he responds, “I’ve called for more and they’re sending some as soon as possible. The government is trying to pretend they didn’t know this was happening. They’re being very accommodating.”

The soldier holds out his hand to the still crying girl - Arianna - and she takes it, trembling slightly. She struggles to walk though and N-iP01357 can just hear the soldier ask if its alright to pick her up, scooping her up gently when she nods.

The next two people in line also get given new designations.

The first one gasps when they say it, nodding frantically and whispering thank you, thank you over and over.

The next one seems to not understand, shaking their head and trying to take a step back. They collide with N-iP01357 and he put his hands on their back to stop them falling over.

“It’s okay,” the woman says in a soothing tone. She tries the designation again this time adding a second word and the boy ahead of him actually drops to his knees, shuddering.

“It’s alright,” the woman says, “I know. It must be so confusing, but we’re gonna look after you.”

He’s lead away and then N-iP01357 steps forwards, holding up his wrist automatically.

He’s scanned and the familiar beep sounds. The woman smiles and taps at the screen. Her face falls.

“I don’t think it worked,” she says which makes no sense because it beeped.

“Lets try again,” she suggests and N-iP01357 raises his arm again. She scans and the same beep happens but her face doesn’t change.

“Sir?” she says, voice shaking, “Cor, you need to see this.”

N-iP01357 feels his chest tighten and his breath grow short.

“Hey, hey,” the woman says, dropping to her knees in the snow. That must be cold, N-iP01357 thinks, feeling guilty. She passes the tablet off to the man, he looks at it intently, scrolling through the information and she carefully puts her hand on N-iP01357’s arm.

“You’re okay. Do you know what your name is?”

N-iP01357 shakes his head, he doesn’t even know what a name is.

“Your name? What do they call you…”

N-iP01357 feels a stab of relief and with a croaky voice starts, “N-iP013 -”

“No, no,” the woman says and N-iP01357 feels panicked anew because that’s wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong and he doesn’t understand, “Before you came here. What were you called before you came here.”

N-iP01357 shakes his head again and whispers, “I’ve always been here.”

“Monica,” the man says, also squatting now he hands the tablet back to her.

He has very blue eyes, N-iP01357 realises, as he looks properly at the man’s face for the first time. They should be cold but they’re not and N-iP01357 relaxes under his gaze.

“This can’t be right,” the woman - Monica - says, “How is this right?”

The man shakes his head and gently places his hand onto N-iP01357's head, ruffling his hair, “We won’t know until we get into the system properly.”

“Where do we send him if he - if he didn’t come from anywhere?”

N-iP01357 feels another stab of panic that he’s going to be left behind. That everyone else will leave and he’ll be left here. All alone.

“I’m going to Gralea,” the man says, “If he really doesn’t have anywhere else to go that may be the best place for him.”

“I hope you’re right,” Monica says.

“Me too,” the man says then, “Monica? Think of a name for him, he can’t go on thinking that's what he is. It's not right.”

- - Nine - -

Prompto has to sit on his hands to keep from fidgeting.

“There you go,” the optician says, sliding a pair of glasses onto his nose, “That’s better.”

Prompto blinks as the world comes into crystal clear focus around him. All the letters on the wall behind her are suddenly easy to read and he looks - stares - at the picture above that. A weird cartoon of a bear with an eye-patch.

“How’s the fit?” asks the nurse that bought him here today. Its not the one that had bought him here originally, when they’d put the weird thing in front of his face and swapped little bits of glass in and out and asking him if it made his vision better or worse. This one doesn’t smile quite as wide but she smells nicer - kind of like the juice he gets with breakfast on a Sunday morning and he likes that.

“Prompto?” she prods and it takes him a second to realise he’s the one being spoken to, as it always does. He understands now that the code he used to go by isn’t what people consider a name and he never should have had one in the first place. Outside is so odd. He wonders if he'll ever get used to it.

Prompto nods in reply, then works out that's probably not an adequate answer. The glasses haven’t fallen off so he says, “Good.”

-

Prompto likes school.

It gives him a routine for one, and up until now his entire life has been routine. He’s almost ten now, apparently, which means he has to change where he lives. But they can hold off until November, they say, so they can transfer him and Tobin at the same time.

Which is good, Prompto thinks, because he likes living with Tobin.

He’d gone to live with a family for a while but the other child they had didn’t like how quiet he was and he was barely there four weeks before they bought him back. Tobin had been gone when he got back, living with a family of his own, but he’d returned too, because, Tobin says, they were having a real baby after all.

Prompto had needed to ask one of the nurses what that meant.

The answer made him happy and sad at the same time.

Prompto doesn’t really like the other kids though. Or, more accurately, the other kids don’t seem to like him very much. Sometimes one will talk to him, play with him for a while and then they’ll catch sight of his tattoo or someone will whisper in their ear, pointing at him and they scamper off to play with someone else.

His teacher is a nice lady and on the days Prompto doesn’t feel like running around the field by himself she lets him sit in the classroom during breaks to practice his reading.

He’s behind the other kids, but catching up fast. Mostly because he likes reading, likes reading stories about things that aren’t real.

At first he hadn’t understood the purpose of story books but now he doesn’t understand what he ever did without them.

On a particularly rough day - Prompto had vomited his morning snack all over his desk and suffered the teasing for it since - the teacher gently tugs the book away from his hands and passes him a sheet of clean paper and a handful of coloured pencils.

“What do I do?” Prompto asks.

“Whatever you want,” she says, “Draw something you like.”

Prompto scrunches up his face, trying to think of things he likes.

He likes being able to see properly, even if some other kids make fun of his glasses. He likes Tobin, but doesn't thinks he can draw a person. He looks at the front cover of the book, there’s a couple there, stood amongst some trees with a dog at their side.

Prompto likes dogs. He loves dogs. The man that lives across the road from the children’s centre has a dog and he’ll bring it outside on Sunday mornings so they can all pet her on their morning walk.

Prompto roots through the pile of pencils for a brown one and slowly, while the other kids play tag outside in their coats, he draws his first picture.

- - Ten - -

Every two months the children’s centre has an open day, where they invite couples and families to visit and try and entice them into taking a child or two off their hands.

Prompto and Tobin had got picked up at the last one, by an okay couple that didn’t talk much but also had a spare television for their bedroom and didn’t make them go to sleep until an hour after their normal curfew.

But then the couple had to move, so they bought the boys back to the centre. Not empty handed though, they’d let the boys bring the console from their bedroom and it was kept in the communal area so now they had to share. Prompto doesn’t mind that as much as Tobin does, he likes seeing other people happy almost as much as he likes being happy himself.

And he’s still the best at it. Still has all the high scores.

They have to bathe the night before the open day, wash their hair and put on their best approximation of nice clothes. Prompto has to wear his school trousers and a slightly too big checked shirt that had come out of a donation bag just last week.

“We’ve gotta stick together,” Tobin whispers to him as they stand in a line with all the other kids waiting to pass the matron’s inspection.

Prompto nods.

“I wanna go together, or stay here together,” Tobin carries on.

Prompto nods again, more enthusiastically.

Prompto generally prefers not being at the children’s home since they moved him to this one. The matron here tends to make him feel bad, and there aren’t as many nurses around so less people are willing to talk to him. Plus, the kids go all the way up to sixteen, and some of the older ones seem to like getting in trouble. So they pick on him and Tobin and they sneak out at night or don’t come home from school which means, inevitably, someone yells everyday.

Prompto doesn’t like yelling.

On days when there’s too much yelling Tobin has to shake him awake because he makes too much noise in his sleep.

Prompto really hates yelling.

The matron looks him and Tobin over with a critical eye that makes Prompto squirm, remembering days spent being prodded and poked, forced to perform tasks and get assigned grades that he never saw -

“Take off your sweatband,” the matron snaps, even as she straightens Tobin’s collar.

“But people don’t like my - the mark,” Prompto mutters, dutifully tugging it off.

“It’s dishonest, covering it up. Imagine if someone were to want you and then find out where you came from.”

Prompto’s learnt that most people that grew up in his facilities found homes with their actual families. Maybe not their parents but close. Grandparents, an older sibling, an aunt or uncle. There are others like him he's told, who had no living relatives and ended up in the foster system like he did, but Prompto’s never met one. He’s never met anyone else with a mark like his, not since he left the facility.

There had seemed to be an endless sea of people outside the facility that night and yet in Prompto’s mind they’d all vanished into the wind the minute the nice man with blue, blue eyes had left him at the hospital with little more than the new name the woman Monica had picked out for him.

The Matron leaves them alone then, and Tobin drags him by the wrist over to a table where they can sit together, Tobin reading through a well worn comic while Prompto draws with some coloured pens, trying not to look too sad or too nervous.

Slowly the people filter in.

Tobin and Prompto get a fair amount of attention, owing mostly to the fact they’re the youngest here and eventually Tobin gets drawn away from him by a couple, distracted by the fact they’d entered the centre with a box full of donations. They’re young looking with kind faces, the woman has silvery long hair that makes Prompto's chest hurt just a little.

It’s not her. Its not Rina, Prompto will never see her again, but he likes to think of her, when he feels like things are really bad and it helps him remember that things can get better. That there’s never a reason not to hope.

Prompto’s adding leaves to his tree when the plastic chair beside his is dragged away from the table and he looks up just as man with dark eyes and hair drops into the low chair.

“Hi,” The man says, “I’m Alec.”

Prompto swallows, “Hello.”

The man smiles kindly, warmth in his eyes, “Do you have a name?”

For a moment the question takes him back to that day in the snow, water seeping into his shoes and not understanding what it is to even have a name.

“Prompto,” he tells him, thinking of Monica’s soft hands on his shoulders asking if its okay? Do you like it?

“That’s an interesting name. Are you not from around here?” Alec asks.

Prompto shakes his head, nervously tugging on his sleeve. It backfires of course bringing Alec’s attention to the mark instead of hiding it and Prompto’s old enough to understand recognition when he sees it.

“I didn’t know,” Alec says and somehow his voice is still kind, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Prompto looks up quickly, “It’s okay.”

“My little sister had one of those,” Alec says and Prompto drops his pen in shock, “So I understand how hard it must have been for you in there. And I suppose, how hard it must be for you here, too.”

“Oh.”

Alec smiles, but it seems sad now. “She was much older than you though, when they rescued you all, I doubt you would have known her.”

Prompto shakes his head, “They separated us by size - age. I think. Maybe.”

Alec chuckles, “I’m sure.”

They lapse into silence for a long moment and Prompto retrieves his pen, adding another leaf to his tree.

“You like drawing?” Alec asks and Prompto turns back to him, nodding enthusiastically.

“You’re good at it,” Alec says, “Better than me.”

Prompto bites his lip to stifle a giggle, and he pushes the paper towards Alec and holds the pen out to him.

“You won’t be upset if I ruin it?”

“No,” Prompto promises, pressing the pen into his hand.

Alec adds a wonky leaf next to one of Prompto’s, a little too big to really fit but Prompto likes it anyway.

“It’s good,” Prompto says, “I dunno what to draw here.” He taps the blank space on the ground next to his tree.

“Well what else do you like?”

Prompto thinks about it, like he had the first time he’d drawn something and finds his answers are much the same.

“I like dogs. And cats!” Prompto says, remembering the cat he saw the other day. A stray, skinny thing that had run off when Prompto approached but then he’d asked one of the nurses about it and she’d gotten him a book off the shelf full of cats.

“Anything else?”

“The chocolate pudding cups we get sometimes. And - and running.”

Alec smiles so wide Prompto can see his teeth, “Okay, what are some things you don’t like?”

Prompto scrunches his nose and without thinking blurts, “Snow.”

Alec laughs. “Wow kid, you really have it rough huh?”

Prompto giggles again, shaking his head.

“Hello,” says a new voice and he and Alec turn as one to look up at the woman that's just appeared standing by the table.

“Hi, Hon,” Alec says, “This here is Prompto.”

“Hello sweetie,” she says smiling wide so Prompto gets to see her teeth too, her smile dims as she turns slightly to look fully at Alec, “Work just called, we’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Alec says, “Okay, well I’ll - hey, we can come back another time?”

“Of course,” the woman says, “I’d like to get to know little Prompto, too.”

“Would you like that, Prompto? If we came back to talk to you another time?” Alec asks, turning to look at Prompto.

He nods before Alec’s even finished talking.

“I’d like that a lot,” he murmurs.

Alec grins, “We’ll see you real soon.”

And Prompto waits expectantly every day for two whole months for them to come back, so he can talk to Alec some more and learn the lady’s name but they never come. Only when the next open day rolls around and they don’t visit then either does Prompto stop perking up every time the door to the children’s centre opens.

-

One day Prompto is running around the field at school, sprinting round and round to try and burn off some excess energy he has thrumming through his veins. Tobin is across the field, kicking a ball around with the other kids, he’d invited Prompto along but he’d seen the way they’d glared, heard their grumbles and refused the invitation.

“Argentum!” a rough voice calls and Prompto comes to a halt so fast he slips a little on the icy ground.

“Sir,” he calls back, spinning and jogging over to where the P.E teachers is stood.

“You’re fast kid,” he says. He’s a gruff man, but nice enough. Always stops the other kids in class when they start to throw things at Prompto, makes sure he’s partnered up with Tobin for group sports.

“Um, yes sir,” Prompto says.

“You like running?”

“Yes sir, very much sir.”

The teacher snorts, rubbing thoughtfully at his jaw.

“You thought about joining the track team? We need middle and long distance runners.”

Prompto has thought about it but -

“I can’t afford the uniform,” Prompto explains shyly.

“Hmm. You’re a foster kid, huh?”

Prompto nods, his cheeks warming.

“We can get you a uniform from the second hand box,” the teacher explains, “Kids always leave stuff behind when they leave school, or donate it when they grow out of it.”

“Really?” Prompto asks.

“We meet three times a week after school, think you can manage?”

Prompto nods, excited for the first time in a long time.

“I’ll give the form to your teacher, you get it signed by whoever is in charge of that stuff and come see me tomorrow at lunch, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

- - Eleven - -

The woman Prompto lives with at the moment is called Maria and she’s from Lucis.

Maria loves Lucis and when Prompto had asked why she doesn’t still live there she’d told him that while she loves Lucis she loves her husband more and her husband has to work here, in Niflheim.

Selfishly Prompto is glad, because he likes living with Maria. Its the place he’s liked living with most. Even though Tobin isn’t here.

Tobin has been with the Aterros for almost a whole year now and Prompto had missed him in the evenings where he was largely alone, even for the brief few weeks where someone else had some to the children’s home and had slept in the bed that had always been Tobin’s.

“What do we have here?” Maria’s kind voice asks from over his shoulder.

Prompto twists in his seat, proudly holding up his drawing. Maria always loves everything he draws and last week she’d given him a small digital camera and told him it was his to keep. Forever.

He’d filled up the storage in it that first day and had sat for hours, deciding which memories to keep and which to throw away until Maria’s husband had come home from work with a small card that he’d slid into Prompto’s new camera and made the available space increase by an almost unfathomable amount. Prompto had beamed at him and gotten a gentle head rub for his trouble. He doesn’t like Maria’s husband as much as he likes Maria because he works long hours and isn’t home very much but he always smiles at Prompto and his hands give him gentle affection in passing.

“That’s so good, Prompto. You’re so talented,” Maria gushes and Prompto blushes.

It’s Sunday so Prompto doesn’t have school and that used to make him sad but its not so bad here. It’s snowing outside though which means Prompto can’t go outside to chase cats.

He’s allowed to, Maria says, Prompto just doesn’t want to.

“I bought you some books yesterday,” Maria says, lowing herself down onto the floor beside him.

Prompto looks at her hands, reads Wilds of Lucis, and sits up more alertly, smiling in a way he hopes encourages her.

“I thought we could look at more animals, because you like them so much and I could tell you more about Lucis because you seem to like that too.”

“Lucis has animals? Isn’t it a City?”

Maria smiles, “Lucis is a Country. Like Niflheim. Here Gralea is the Capital,” she pauses to make sure Prompto’s understood and he nods to indicate he has, “Insomnia is the Capital of Lucis - oh I know it sounds scary but it’s not, I promise.”

“Did you live in Inson - Insomnia?” Prompto asks, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

“Mhm,” she affirms. She puts the books down, pushing the one with animals to the side and pulls forward what seems to be a large book of photographs and flicks to somewhere near the middle. She shows him a double page spread of a tall building, imposing but beautiful.

“This is the Citadel, where the King lives and for a time I worked here, it’s where I met my dear Ansel when he was visiting Insomnia many years ago now.”

Prompto nods, awed by the building but distracted by all the little things around it too. Bright twinkly lights and smaller buildings. Lots of paths and roads and not an inch of grey slush in sight.

“No snow?” he asks.

“Almost never,” Maria says and Prompto’s eyes go wide making her laugh. She ruffles through Prompto’s hair, longer than ever because she didn’t make him cut it a few weeks ago when he’d let her know he was due.

Prompto wants to keep looking at it, look at more of this magical place Insomnia but Maria is sliding the other book on top of it and starts to turn pages.

Prompto sees thing after thing that he’s never seen before, awed all over again that there are still so many things he doesn’t know.

Maria stops flicking and spreads the pages out. Prompto’s breath leaves him in a rough puff of air.

“Prompto?” Maria says, concern in her voice.

He sits up straight in his chair, struggling to find words like he so often does and instead pats the page with his hand, wishing beyond everything that he could actually feel the creature beneath his hand.

Maria touches his hair again, stroking softly and says, “Sweetheart, is something wrong?”

“What - what is it?” he manages to croak.

“That’s a chocobo,” Maria says and Prompto mouths the word silently.

He traces a finger over one of the yellow things its covered in, “And this?”

“Those are feathers,” Maria explains, “Chocobos are a type of bird, and they’re covered in all these soft feathers that protect them from weather and help them glide through the air.”

Prompto’s still all wide eyed, unable to comprehend.

“Do you like them?”

Prompto nods so fast it almost hurts and pats at the picture again.

“So yellow,” he says.

“They come in other colours too,” Maria says, “Would you like to see?”

Prompto nods and takes his hands away from the picture. “Please,” he breathes.

Maria turns the page and Prompto gets to see more chocobos. More yellow but also one the colour of rust, a soft grey and in the middle of the pack, obviously preening, jet black with feathers shining under the bright sun.

“Oh,” he says softly, “I don’t - what. Where?”

“They live wild in Lucis but also some people keep them as pets -”

“Like dogs?”

“Kind of. They’re good for travel and they’re affectionate, good with children.”

She touches Prompto’s nose and he starts a little, breaking off to laugh.

“Travel?” Prompto asks, wondering if he misunderstands the word.

“They’re very strong,” Maria tells him, “And if you treat them kindly and give them somewhere nice to live they let you ride them.”

Prompto rears back, whatever on his face makes Maria laugh again and she gently tugs him back into her side.

“I want - can I?”

“One day,” Maris says, “One day you can do whatever you want.”

-

Prompto turns twelve in two weeks and yesterday he got bought back to the children’s home.

He doesn’t quite understand why.

There had been a lot of commotion in Maria and Ansel’s house recently and last week Ansel had come home and said to Maria that it’s happening, I’m sorry and then when she’d whispered something Prompto couldn’t hear he’d shaken his head sadly and said they said he’s not allowed.

Maria had been tearful as she packed up, placing his camera and some of his books into his bag.

She’d asked if she could take some of his drawing with her and he’d agreed, obviously, letting her pick from all of them. She’d taken the first chocobo he’d drawn, that very same day she’d shown them to him, painstakingly copied from the book and a painting he’d done just a few days ago of a pretty lake he’d never seen but imagines exists in Lucis somewhere.

They’d given him a parting gift, Ansel had handed it to him as they walked to the car, a bright yellow chocobo toy, insanely soft to the touch and big enough that Prompto could bury its face in it’s belly and pretend he’s not upset.

I’m sorry they’d said over and over again, walking him all the way up to his old room and settling him in. He’d heard Maria’s sob as they walked back down the stairs and Prompto had cried too, soaking through his new toy.

Prompto’s not enjoying school today. He’s tired and feels sick, a stomach ache that won’t go away even though the nicest nurse in the children’s home had given him some medicine and thinned down his porridge.

He sits outside on a bench during lunch not eating the rations - the food - he collected from the cafeteria.

“Prompto,” Tobin says, sitting down next to him, “Are you still feeling sick?”

Prompto nods and offers up his food to Tobin who takes it and eats halfway through his sandwich before he speaks again.

“The Aterros are taking me on a trip this winter, while school is out, somewhere were it actually gets warm.”

Tobin sounds so excited that Prompto smiles for his friend, asking where it is they’re going.

“Not sure,” Tobin mumbles, mouth full of bread, “But it’ll be better than here.”

Prompto agrees but can’t muster up much of a conversation. Tobin seems content, thankfully, just to sit together for a while.

When Prompto’s birthday rolls around his stomach ache is finally easing up and he goes to school, plays with Tobin during break but sits inside drawing over lunch. After, he has track team and he runs and runs and runs, eating his dinner with the team like always and being pleased that they’ve warmed to him a little. He supposes its hard to really dislike someone when they’re helping secure the trophies lining the cabinet in the Physical Education department.

Back at the children’s centre Prompto goes straight to his room - the other bed is empty still - and looks through the pictures on his camera.

After an hour or so a nurse knocks on his door and enters with a soft smile. She passes him his favourite chocolate pudding cup and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Prompto.”

All in all its not the worst day Prompto’s ever had.

- - Twelve - -

Prompto’s gotten big enough that he can climb up over his chest of draws to sit himself on the window ledge and peer down at the streets of Gralea. It’s snowing - when isn’t it snowing? - but there’s a couple wandering the streets slowly, leaning into each other with their fingers linked.

Prompto understands that they are a couple. That they probably love each other.

Love is a thing Prompto’s always struggled to understand. He doesn’t know if he’s really ever experienced it himself. He knows its easy to say he loves things, chocolate pudding and peanut butter sandwiches, but he's been learning that's not the same as what he’s witnessing now.

A few days ago, at school, he’d been there when the Aterros were dropping Tobin off for school and he'd overheard Mrs Aterro leaning down to tell Tobin quietly that she loves him very much.

And Prompto thinks that kind of love is different too.

- - Thirteen - -

He only lasted four days in this home.

It’s a new record, not just for him, but for the children’s centre at large.

“You never said he has night terrors,” the man barks, pushing Prompto further into the room. One of the nurses bustles around from the desk to him and crouches to take his bag and help him shed his coat.

“That’s because he doesn’t have night terrors,” the nurse argues and Prompto can tell that her tone is even only with great effort, “He just has bad dreams sometimes.”

She offers Prompto a sad little smile and he tries to return it but is worried about changing his face too much. A few other kids are downstairs and Prompto would rather not cry in front of them.

“Well he has something and its annoying. Kept us up half the night, they don’t give us enough money to deal with shit like this.”

“You’ll need to sign him back over,” the nurse says and she waves one of the others out of the little room they sit in to drink coffee and then takes Prompto’s hand.

“I need to take my stuff upstairs,” Prompto mumbles as she pulls him towards the tables and bookcases in the corner.

“We’ll do that a little later,” the nurse says, “I know you weren’t gone long, but we got a little gift while you were away.”

She leads him around a corner and Prompto sees that one of the desks has been requisitioned to hold a computer.

“Oh,” he says, surprised.

“I know, a nice company donated some of their surplus computers to shelters and libraries around the city and we were lucky enough to get one. Now, there’s a few games installed if you’d like to play or you can have a look at some things on the internet.”

Prompto settles down into the chair and takes the mouse in hand. He’s used computers a little at school, as part of the curriculum, but also before. In the facility.

Prompto thinks he might very well play one of those games but first he wants to satisfy his own curiosity.

Pulling up the web browser Prompto types night terrors into the search engine. It’s only a couple minutes reading for Prompto to realise the nurse was telling the truth, he doesn’t have night terrors. He just has bad dreams sometimes.

Maybe a lot of the time.

- - Fourteen - -

Prompto’s seen pictures of schools in Lucis.

Seen pictures of kids in shorts and vests, sprinting across finish lines in bright sunshine.

He probably should stop researching Lucis on the computer whenever he gets the chance but he’s fascinated. Always has been fascinated, ever since Maria had spoken so fondly of home and maybe even before that, when the soldiers from Lucis had come and rescued him from hell.

At Prompto’s school the year round track team uniform is dark green long pants and a sweater with matching under-layer to keep them from freezing to death on the start line. Prompto’s uniform is still second hand and its honestly kind of gross but he can’t afford better, no foster parent has ever been willing to buy him better. Being on the track team means he gets an extra school funded meal three times a week so he’s stuck with it.

Shitty foster-parents like it when you don’t eat into their profit margins and good ones just like it when you do shit.

Plus, Prompto's still really fast.

Next year when he starts high school - assuming he makes the team - his uniform will be grey.

Just like everything else in Gralea.

As he jogs his final loop of the track a light snowfall starts up and Prompto wrinkles his nose in disgust as a single flake tries to settle on the end of it.

“Yo! Argentum,” a familiar voice calls across the track at him.

Prompto grins, waving at Tobin and picking up the pace again to run right over to him.

“Hey,” Prompto says when they’re feet apart, smacking his hand against Tobin’s where he’d raised it, “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Tobin says but he seems to be avoiding Prompto’s gaze, looking out across the track over his shoulder.

“What’s up?” Prompto prods, starting to feel uneasy.

“The Atteros are gonna adopt me,” Tobin blurts, “Properly. For good.”

Prompto feels elated and crushed all at once. He and Tobin currently live together at the Attero’s home and while its amazing – wonderful - that his friend is getting to stay with them forever but if they’re taking him on legally, then Prompto’s probably getting sent back to the children’s home.

Again.

“That’s great,” Prompto manages to say, “I’m so happy for you. The Aterros are great.”

“Sucks you can’t come too,” Tobin says, looking distraught.

“It’s okay,” Prompto rushes to reassure him. He’d never expected to get to stay forever - not anymore. His childish visions of finding a forever home have long since drifted away, “We’ll still see each other at school.”

They’ve been separated before, for a long time before right now. Not many people are willing to take on two boys at once, even less since they hit their teens, but the two of them had always kept close at school.

Tobin’s face crumples a little and he shakes his head.

“We’re moving,” Tobin admits, “Ma - Mrs Attero got transfered over to near Ghorovas Rift for research.”

Prompto’s stomach drops right out through his feet.

He’s losing Tobin.

He’s the only thing Prompto’s had as a constant since he left the facility. The closest thing to family. They’d arrived at the children’s home around the same time. Two lost boys in need of each other.

Prompto had only ended up with the Atteros at all because of Tobin. They’d moved, Tobin had told him, to a big house with spare rooms and they’d mentioned fostering to Tobin - both because they could afford to and also to avoid the empty-room tax that Prompto knows exists but doesn’t fully understand - and Tobin had immediately asked if they could take Prompto.

“Oh,” Prompto says, then dares to ask, “Do you know when they’re taking me back to the home?”

“They’re not,” Tobin rushes to assure him, “They’ve organised another foster family for you. We’ll take you on Sunday. And I’ll be here until the end of the school year.”

That’s something at least. But Prompto can’t muster the same enthusiasm as Tobin.

“We can write to each other,” Tobin offers and Prompto agrees to the plan, somehow knowing it won’t last.

- - Fifteen - -

“Prompto, is that you?” calls his current foster-mother as he closes the front door behind him.

He’s their only foster child - housing him purely for the government stipend, he’s sure - and his foster-father’s shoes are already by the front door so Prompto’s not sure who else she thought he might be.

“It’s me,” he calls back.

“Come into the kitchen,” she says.

Prompto toes off his shoes and lines them up neatly next to the others, heading off towards her, trying not to think about the amount of work weighing down his backpack.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asks before he’s fully rounded the door.

Everything is not okay.

Prompto knows that as soon as he enters the kitchen properly. There’s two cardboard boxes on the table, his full duffel bag on the ground by the table, and his foster-father looks up at him coldly as continues to place Prompto school books into the one box that remains open.

Prompto supposes he’s going back to the children’s home. All that remains to be seen is why.

“I ran in to Mrs Delano earlier, she and he daughter were at the market when I went to pick up things for dinner.”

“That’s nice?” Prompto suggests.

“Don’t be smart,” his foster-father snaps.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles.

“Clarissa said she saw you at school today,” she carries on to say.

“Well, yeah - we share some classes.”

“After school, specifically.”

Prompto stomach sinks, knows where this is going, knows there’s only one thing she could have seen that was worthy of gossip and he feels so dumb, so stupid that he hadn’t been more careful. Hadn’t been more private.

“Behind the gymnasium. With the Wayland boy.”

His foster father makes a low noise that Prompto takes to mean disgust.

Prompto had been expecting that.

It hadn’t been difficult for Prompto to work out he was gay. Not once he understood what attraction was and realised he didn’t feel it the way a lot of other boys did, had no desire to stare at girls across the field and instead has to tear his eyes away from the soccer team when they stretch before practice.

It didn’t bother Prompto much, that people don't approve of the way he is, not when he in turn disapproves of so much Niflheim stands for.

He’d found things online that had helped, web pages based in Lucis with advice and discussions.

In Lucis, Prompto knows, he can get married to a man if he wants, while here they might get jeered at for walking down the street holding hands.

“I knew you were going to be a problem,” the man snarls, “They must have broken you in that facility. I’ve read about it online. So many of you are a mess, all twisted up and wrong inside.”

“There’s nothing - I’m not broken because I like boys,” Prompto argues.

“Enough!” his foster-mother snaps.

“I’m taking you back to the centre,” she says. “Pick up your things, we’re going now. We don’t want someone like you in this house.”

They could have waited seventeen days, Prompto thinks, then they would have got a big payout before the government shipped him into monitored housing as a sixteenth birthday present. They must really hate him.

It’s almost funny.

-

The children’s home isn’t exactly happy he’s back, but Prompto doesn’t mind handing out dinners to the younger kids and helping the nurses change beds so they, at least, seem pleased to see him.

I’ve read about it online, he'd said.

Prompto hasn't read about it online. About his former life. About where he came from. He hasn't wanted to, it never occurred to him that anyone would want to, that there was anything to even say.

But what if there was?

It starts simply enough. Prompto digs up old news articles about the rescue, mostly choosing things like Insomnia Daily Times and Lucis Today when he realises Niflheim’s records of the events leave a lot to be desired when you were one of the children rescued.

At first he doesn’t find anything particularly interesting outside speculations in comments sections, talk of cloning and genetic experimentation - but Prompto thinks that’s dumb. He was in there, he saw the other kids, they weren’t clones, they didn't look alike. He remembers all the injections, all the testing, but that's not the same. It doesn't mean anything.

But then, by chance, he comes across an article that directs people to a database of all the children rescued, encouraging them to enter the names of their children that were missing, that had been stolen.

Prompto clicks the link, hidden in the back of the library, eighteen hours before he’s due to move homes again and without really considering his actions types in his name Prompto Argentum.

Nothing.

No results.

At first it doesn’t make sense because Prompto was there. He knows he was there. But then -

He never was Prompto Argentum in that place, never was anything but the number still branded into his skin.

He doesn’t need to look at it, to remember. He’ll never forget those numbers, the countless times he recited them at roll-call, scanning his wrist beneath a blue light to open up a door or dispense his food.

For a second he thinks nothing is going to happen but then it does, a page loads with his designation number at the top, followed by a list of information.

He skims most of it, he already knows his date of birth and his blood type. What he really wants to know is -

Mother: Not Applicable

Father: Not Applicable

Place of Birth: First Infantry Training Facility

That’s impossible. It’s impossible.

Everyone else has parents listed, but where are his? On a whim he types in a name he remembers - Arianna - and it throws back almost a dozen different entries. Each and every one lists a mother and a father.

Every single one.

But not Prompto.

He closes out the window and buries his face into his palms. Mind reeling.

Where did he come from?

Genetic experimentation. Cloning.

He doesn’t want to believe it but -

“Argentum,” calls the librarian and Prompto startles so badly he sends the textbook he was pretending to reference skittering across the table, “We’re closing up for the day, time to head home.”

- - Sixteen - -

“You’re in room E,” his home monitor says, handing him a second key, “Keep it locked when you’re not inside. You all share the kitchen, I’ve added you to the jobs rota. Don’t skip out on them, I’ll know and we’ll reduce your privileges.”

Prompto nods, shifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

“Don’t let me catch you with alcohol, its a pain in the ass and a tonne of paperwork for me to do,” they say and Prompto notes they don’t tell him not to actually drink the alcohol even though its not legal.

Because sure, Prompto’s old enough to live by himself and apply for a weapons licence, but he’s not old enough to drink or drop out of school. Makes sense.

“Curfew is 10pm every day,” they carry on, “But I can’t check every day, so just don’t be a dick. Yeah?”

“Sure,” Prompto says.

“You got issued your phone and your computer?” The person asks and Prompto pats the bag hanging by his thigh, holding both the new items.

“They’re crap but don’t break them because you have to go on a list to get new ones and you’ll probably age out of the system before it happens. Internet cuts off between 11pm and 7am every day. If you need to tell me something non-emergent email me but if it is an emergency call, my numbers already in your phone.”

“Got it,” Prompto says.

“An emergency is anything in the ‘shit the house is on fire' category or above, not 'my girlfriend broke up with me and I’m sad', just so you know.”

Prompto kind of wants to point out that second one won’t happen but also isn’t in the mood to maybe get the kind of look he sometimes gets when he tells people that actually he has a boyfriend. Kind of. He and Chase aren’t technically a couple because Chase actually has a family and will absolutely get disowned if they find out. But he and Prompto sneak away to kiss behind the gym pretty much everyday and Chase lends him comic books whenever he’s done reading them so Prompto’s pretty happy.

It’s nice to be wanted.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Prompto says.

“They explain the food vouchers to you?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Do they get delivered here or -?”

“I’ll drop them by on the first of every month,” he says, “Check with your house-mates, they’ll tell you the places that’ll let you buy stuff not listed on the back of them. Just - again, don’t let me catch you with beer.”

Prompto actually smiles.

“I think that’s it,” he says, “I’ll be here tomorrow when you’re all back from school - bus picks up at the end of the street to take you across town if you need it, so settle in today and let me know tomorrow if there’s anything you need.”

-

Prompto’s house-mates are fine, really.

Only one of them actually goes to his school, and they walk together past the bus stop along the main street. They don’t share any classes though and Prompto tries to make a connection but his housemate's clearly not interested so mostly their walk is silent but not altogether uncomfortable.

Prompto walks back alone after his track practice and the house monitor is there when he lets himself back in. Prompto lets him know that everything is fine - and Prompto thinks it really is fine, he likes the independence already - quickly empties the trash and wipes down all the counters as per his chore list for the day and then heads to the market to buy food.

He only has a few vouchers - there’s barely a week left of the month - but Prompto can already tell its not really enough. He’s not going to starve, exactly, but he might be a little hungry pretty much all the time.

Prompto can’t even fathom spending some of them on beer. What would he eat?

As he heads back inside the house he runs in to two of his house-mates heading out. They’re dressed differently to each other but obviously in uniforms.

“You guys work?” he asks as one of them stops to hold the door open for him.

“Yeah,” he says, “Kinda need to supplement the support you know. Plus, the clothing allowance is only for school uniforms and judging from the look of you you’ll probably grow out of all your jeans soon.”

Prompto actually only has one pair of jeans right now and they’re kind of pushing the boundaries of what long enough means already. He’s thankful for his boots, really, or his ankles might freeze.

He chooses not to allow the dig at his height to bother him. When he was much younger a nurse had said he might be a little stunted because he’d spent the first eight years of his life borderline malnourished.

“Right,” Prompto says, “Makes sense.”

“There’s a web-address for a job site stuck to the fridge,” he calls back to Prompto as he walks away, “Might want to have a look.”

- - -

Prompto has a favourite food store that he likes - not one that will let you buy beer - but its on the way home from school and is usually staffed by a girl around his age. She plays the kind of bass heavy rock music that Prompto likes and never looks at him askance like some of the other stores do when he counts out his food vouchers.

The store is warm too, almost too warm, when you come in bundled up in scarf and coat but it means that the girl bares her arms a lot of the time, sitting behind the counter in ripped jeans and a tank top.

The first time Prompto sees her tattoo he drops the can of tomatoes he was holding right onto the floor.

“You dent it you buy it,” she calls but when Prompto manages to look up at her face she’s smiling, “You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Prompto says, “I just -”

“You like my tattoo?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s amazing - beautiful. All the colours.”

Prompto didn’t know that tattoos could look like that. He’s seen tattoos other than his own of course, but they’d all been black too. Clean lines, calligraphy, portraits. The girls arm is almost a mess of colour, swirls and pictures that take Prompto a while to work out.

“You got any?”

“No,” Prompto lies, knowing his wrist is securely covered by a sweatband.

“That’s a shame, think they’d look good on you,” she says.

She might be flirting with him, but he can’t be sure. Either way his cheeks flush and her grin stretches.

“Know where I can trade food vouchers for one?” Prompto teases and she throws her head back when she laughs.

- - -

[Chase 21:01] come outside

[Prompto 21:02] what?

[Chase 21:02] baby come outside please

Prompto’s liked looking at Chase since the very first time he looked at him. He likes touching Chase more, likes being touched by him in return.

He pushes his tongue into Chase’s mouth and feels his boyfriends hands clutch at his shoulders.

“So,” Chase says, pulling them apart, “You like my car?”

“It’s a car,” Prompto says, having no opinion either way.

Chase smiles and touches Prompto’s jaw, “What time’s your curfew today?”

“Monitor doesn’t visit today. So. Never?”

“Nice,” Chase says and he tugs at Prompto until he’s shifted to swing a thigh over Chase’s lap and settle there, “This okay?”

“More than,” Prompto says, ducking down for another kiss. Carefully he edges his hands up underneath Chase’s shirt. It’s warm in the car, they’d had the heater running while Chase drove them around and it still lingers now they’ve parked up somewhere secluded.

Chase is all toned muscle under his clothes and he lets Prompto pull off his shirt without arguments.

“What you doing babe?”

By way of an answer Prompto palms between Chase’s legs where he’s pulsing and hard for him.

Chase chokes on an inhale, “Wait, you sure? We don’t have to just because you had your birthday -”

“I want to,” Prompto says and he does. He wants to more than anything. He’s been thinking about this for longer than he cares to admit, wondering what it’ll be like, trying to practice…

Chase surges up to kiss him, slipping a hand under Prompto’s shirt to grab at his waist, the other palming his ass. Together they wriggle into the back seat and Prompto learns how to finger himself open for a cock in a cramped three door car.

- - -

“You’re just taking orders for now,” his manager tells him, “And you just punch in the code for what they order and it goes automatically to the kitchen. Then you pick it up from the shelf behind you, bag it all up and send the customer on their way.”

“Got it,” Prompto says because he’s already been trained, had spent four hours here yesterday shadowing one of his colleagues. But he’d been warned about this, that their boss likes to feel like he’s doing all the work even though he actually does next to nothing.

The pays isn't good exactly but it's just above minimum and should allow Prompto to save up for a decent camera. Eventually.

“Work a six hour shift and you can have a free burger and a drink,” his manager explains.

Prompto nods, but he can’t imagine how much of the food he’ll eat here, even if it is free. The air is already making his skin itch and its almost everything his has to stop his nose wrinkling at the smell of hot oil.

- - Seventeen - -

Prompto quits the track team in favour of working more hours, running early in the mornings instead. He knows what he wants and what’s going to be useful for him going forward. He wants a camera and his stack of track meet medals and certificates mean less and less to him as time goes on.

In the mean time he still uses the camera he got from Maria all those years ago. The screen is cracked and there’s a nasty dent in the side from where he slipped on some ice a couple years back but by some miracle it still works.

He saves most of his money, but keeps some to the side to supplement his meals and for occasional trips to a Lucian import store two streets over from where he bags burgers and fries five times a week, to treat himself to a foreign candy bar once in a while.

He gives in to peer pressure on his birthday though and he and his house-mates take a trip over to the one store that both doesn’t bother to ID people and will readily exchange food stamps for whatever the fuck you want. Buying enough beer for the six of them to waste an evening gathered around their tiny TV taking turns on the shitty third hand console one of them had bought with his last months pay check.

- - -

Things with Chase were never going to last, Prompto always knew that.

Yet when Chase breaks up with him to start a real relationship with a girl he rebounds hard. Its dumb and he’s stupid but he still does it again when the next guy decides he only wants Prompto for what’s under his clothes and Prompto enjoys sex, sure, but he likes all the other stuff that comes with a relationship too.

- - -

Prompto’s been in the camera store plenty of times by now, so frequently that the owner smiles and nods at him when he enters. Prompto smiles back, elated, because today is the day. Today he’s buying his new camera.

He’s saved every penny he has and he has more money in his bank account than he’d ever thought possible. He doesn’t just want new, he wants good. Wants to not have to replace it again for a long while.

Prompto strolls right up to the counter and point at the shelf towards what he knows is a Lucis imported model -

“The Lokton LX-30, please,” Prompto says.

The owner’s eyebrows shoot up and he grins, “No way, you’re actually buying today?”

“You bet,” Prompto says. He’s bought before, memory cards and battery packs but he’s been looking at these cameras since he’s been old enough to explore the city by himself.

“You need the different sized memory cards because its a Lucian model, you know that?”

“Yes,” Prompto says at once, “I have enough for one of those too.”

“You got a decent carry case for it?”

Prompto shakes his head, feels a little heat crawl up his face, “Next time. I’ll be super careful with it until then.”

The owner takes the box down from the shelf and looks at Prompto for a long moment before he pops it onto the front desk and then ducks down to retrieve something from beneath it.

“Here,” he says straightening up with a black camera bag in his hands, flattened down to fit in its clear packaging, “On the house. Part of the loyalty program.”

“Oh my gosh,” Prompto blurts, “Thank you, thank you.”

The owner smiles, “You’re very welcome. It’s nice to meet a real enthusiast, they’re a little thin on the ground here.”

Prompto almost skips from the store with his purchases secure in his bag and just a little money left on his bank card. The camera store is a few blocks away from the Lucian Import store and he’s feeling some of the really good spicy ramen so he ducks inside, getting a smile from the owner of this store too.

He’s perusing the packaged foods aisle when he spots the magazine rack.

He’s bought a magazine or two in his time, Lucis puts out a photography magazine every other month and Prompto’s bought it every time he’s had the spare money, and for his birthday he’d treated himself to a copy of Lucis Geographic, spent hours pouring over the nature photography and reading every word. Today though he sees one that’s simply called Inked.

On the cover is a full shot of someone’s back and Prompto feels a low swoop in his belly at the broadness of the shoulders and the muscular definition in his arms but he’s also fascinated by the intricate lines and shading that makes up the fully realised angel wings etched into the skin.

Prompto wishes his tattoo were that beautiful.

The price tag is most of his remaining money but it leaves him just enough for one pack of ramen and a six-pack of the lemonade he likes.

Prompto scoops them all up and heads over to the cash register.

“Get everything you want?”

Prompto nods, “Yeah, thanks.”

“You’re one of the only people that eats this ramen, kid, sets my mouth on fire,” she says as he scans it and passes it over to Prompto to add to his back pack.

“I like it,” Prompto defends, “The ramen they make here is weak.”

“The food here sucks,” she concurs, “The thing I miss most.”

“You’re from Lucis?” Prompto asks, surprised, even though it shouldn’t really be that shocking considering the shop that they own.

“Lestallum born and raised,” she replies and Prompto nods. He’s looked at a map of Lucis enough times that he can point out Lestallum easily.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Lucis,” Prompto admits, “I’d love to see the Citadel.”

“One day, kid,” she says.

It’s a rare snow free day so Prompto takes all his belongings to one of the grey squares they call a park and wedges it between himself and the edge of a bench to sit out in the fresh air and read his magazine.

Lucis puts a lot of meaning behind it tattoos, he learns, a place called Galahd has many tattoos for many things. Many of them decorate even their faces and embellish their hands. Prompto’s fascinated, tries to picture himself with more tattoos, tattoos that he’s chosen and it doesn’t feel the same as when he looks at his wrist. He likes the idea, maybe he even loves it.

Prompto wonders what he might get one day, wonders what they might mean to him.

Right in the middle of the magazine is a focus piece on a parlour right in the middle of Insomnia and Prompto absorbs the info like a sponge, reading the interview with owner, a man called Malcolm, and tracing the lines of the tattoos they showcased.

Insomnia Ink, its called.

- - Eighteen - -

Prompto knows he has to make a decision and that he has to make it soon.

But he just doesn’t care.

Six options they’ve given him. Six different vocational courses to choose from. Six different lives to choose from.

None of them are inviting. None at all.

He’d prefer to go to a proper university, where he could do history or literature. Or art. Except he can’t do art, because no university in Niflheim provides an art degree. They just don’t exist.

He’d asked his guidance councillor about it when the further education chats had first started and he’d simply said that they were a frivolous waste of resources.

And that was Prompto told.

But Prompto can't afford university. Niflheim doesn’t do scholarships, doesn’t support kids from low income backgrounds. Almost no one from his school has the money to go to university, all of them being funnelled into the same vocational system as Prompto.

In the back of his mind Prompto thinks of Chase, on a straight track to Gralea’s central university, and then suffers a surge of guilt because Prompto has a new boyfriend now. Tall and broad shouldered just the way Prompto enjoys. He’s not the biggest talker, sure, but he’s nice to Prompto, doesn’t mind curling up in his small bed when they’re finished and keeping Prompto warm.

In the end Prompto just picks whichever course comes with housing and means he'll need to move the shortest distance and becomes an apprentice engineer with click of a single button. He closes out the web page on his laptop and goes back to the software he uses to edit photographs, trying to ignore the Insomnia University tab he’s had open for weeks now.

- - Nineteen - -

He’d applied on a whim.

That’s not to say he didn’t put effort into it. He definitely had.

Hours and hours of effort. Spending almost all his free time over the last month pouring over the application and rewriting his essay again and again in an attempt to sell himself as something good for the first time in his life.

But he’d never expected to get in. He’d never expected to get accepted with more than a half dozen scholarships that meant he could actually, financially, go.

Except he can’t go.

Can he?

Why couldn’t he go? What had Gralea ever done for him? What does he have keeping him here?

A barely-even-a-boyfriend? A shitty job tossing fries into paper bags? A government funded education that he gives absolutely no shits about?

Could he go? Could he go and never have to come back?

Is such a marvellous opportunity really possible for him?

It’s not like he couldn’t be happy here, maybe, if he tried harder. Carry on with technical college and get his engineering certification, learn how to build and maintain airships or something.

Prompto doesn’t need to do art full time to be happy. He doesn’t.

But he wants to, with every fibre of his being he wants to.

Chapter Text

“No way,” his classmate - Noctis, Noct - says, raising his voice to normal levels now their discussion isn’t going on under the droning of their math professor.

“It’s beautiful, dude,” Prompto argues.

Noct’s eyes widen slightly and then he grins, “It undermines the original style. I don’t understand why they remake thing if they’re just gonna ruin them.”

“Re-making something does not undermine the original, it still exists, you can still play it. Let those of us with good taste get to re-experience the glory of Justice Monsters III and you can stay at home with your gross low-polygon count.”

For Prompto it’ll mostly be experience it as he didn’t get to play it as kid. He’s not about tell Noct that though.

He’s not had bad experiences telling people he’s from Niflheim exactly, but there’s been a lot of wide eyes and lingering looks. Except that one border guard that had demanded every piece of identification Prompto could possibly have and his student visa and a copy of his university acceptance letter before he’d let Prompto off the ferry.

Prompto had a rough time on the ferry anyway. About halfway between Accordo and Galdin he’d discovered his phone just didn’t work in Lucis.

It was an unexpected expense he wasn’t prepared for and he’d suffered a brief momentary panic when he’d dropped half the money he managed to save up before the big move on a new phone and adapters for all his chargers.

But then he’d gone to a little corner mart not far from his new apartment and everything was just so cheap. And varied. Prompto’s going to be able to eat more than ever. And then the words keep an eye on his intake rattled through his head and he’d tucked the processed snack foods he’d never even seen before back on the shelf, hesitating over the veggies in their whole processed forms and grabbing cans of what he’s more familiar with instead.

He’d exchanged his Niflheim money at the port kiosk in Galdin rather than at his bank in Gralea after researching online because, seriously, fuck the exchange rate in Gralea. Somehow in all his online research the phone thing had never come up.

Noct groans at his side, throwing his notepad into his back pack with little ceremony. Prompto barely registers the students that file past them, looking at them slightly askew. Prompto looks different from almost everyone here and sometimes people stare at him. He’s trying to get used to it because there's nothing he can do about it.

“Hey,” Noct says then, sounding a little nervous, “Have you got a class now? You wanna grab a coffee?”

“I’ve got a little time before my next one,” Prompto concedes. He probably doesn’t have the money, but if he orders the cheapest -

“Wait,” he says, “How the hell do you drink coffee in this heat. It's relentless?” Prompto likes it though, he just wasn't prepared. Some of his savings had also gone on additions to his wardrobe to stop him passing out from heat exhaustion every other day.

Noct laughs, “With ice, dude, where have you been? And this summer has been mild.”

“For you maybe,” Prompto says without thinking, “In Gralea I’d still be throwing salt on the front steps so I don’t break my neck in the mornings.”

There’s a beat of silence where Noct stares at him and Prompto thinks he’s ruined this first proper move towards friendship he’s made in years.

“You’re from Niflheim?” Noct asks and Prompto can’t place his tone.

“Yeah,” Prompto mumbles, “Fucking sucks.”

Noct is smiling when he says, “I’ve heard that before.”

“When IU offered me a scholarship I fucking waved bu-bye to that snow and jumped on a boat, dude.”

Snickering Noct punches him lightly on the shoulder, an unfamiliar but welcome show of camaraderie.

“Let my buy you a coffee to welcome you to my - uh, the city.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto says. He starts walking across the ugly ass carpet on the stairs and notices that Noct is flagging behind a little, walking slower than Prompto would have expected. Prompto falls in to step beside him, shortening his stride to match.

Noct leads them to a little coffee stand in the main square and when Prompto bumbles his way through what he wants Noct laughs and orders a second one of what he ordered. Which is how Prompto falls in love with a sweet, vanilla iced latte.

As they take a seat Noct is focused on his phone, one hand tapping quickly at the screen. For a second Prompto thinks he’s playing King’s Knight and tries to work up the courage to ask for his code but then he realises he’s texting, a little frown between his eyes.

Noct is the reason Prompto found King’s Knight in his first place; distracted by the colours on his phone from the seat behind him in their very first class Prompto had spent his lunch break in the app store on his new phone, finding it fast and then getting so distracted he forgot to eat and was late to his Solheim Arts seminar.

“Everything okay?” Prompto asks.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just needed to let my friend know something, sorry.”

“No,” Prompto says, “If you’re busy I can -”

“No!” Noct insists frantically, “I’m not busy.”

Prompto stifles a laugh, “You never told me your major.”

“Technically undecided. Probably poli-sci,” Noct says with zero enthusiasm.

“Not what you want to do?”

Noctis shrugs, “Getting a degree in fishing doesn’t really line up with the old family business, you know.”

Noct eyes Prompto speculatively, like Prompto’s response really matters and he has to swallow down his nerves before replying.

“That doesn’t seem fair, like, you should get to do what makes you happy,” Prompto says gently.

Prompto’s only just come around to the idea of putting your own happy above what’s expected of you himself, but he doesn’t like the idea of someone else - someone fun and kind - being trapped on a similar path to what almost happened to him.

“It’s not like that,” Noct assures him, “I get to be happy plenty.”

Prompto’s fun buzzes in his pocket, a ten minute warning for his next class to save him from his own track record of losing sense of time.

Insomnia is beautiful, okay, and Prompto’s fascinated by everything. Tall imposing, dark building that are somehow still awash with colour and lights. He’d gotten within good camera distance of the Citadel last week and wasted an entire afternoon filling up a memory card. It’s an incredibly imposing sight and Prompto’s not even a little disappointed he’ll never get to go inside.

He’d gotten to know his way around the city in the week before classes start by running around to pick up and drop off job applications, walking his camera around and taking in the architecture and the parks. Prompto knew that Lucis as a whole was pretty green but hadn’t realised that Insomnia itself would have tried to preserve so much of that within its walls.

“You got class?” Noct asks, face pinching a little.

“Solheim Arts, yeah.”

“Sounds lame,” Noct teases and it takes Prompto a short minute to recover from his laughter.

“Uh huh Mr Introduction-to-Political-Theory.”

“I’d argue with you,” Noct says, “But that’s literally my after-lunch class.” He takes a long sip of his drink then gestures with the cup, “I’ll walk you over.”

“Ah, thank dude. I’m actually still getting used to this campus,” Prompto admits, “So glad most of my classes are in the same building.”

“It is kind of a maze. Hey, uh - can I see your phone?”

Prompto digs it out of his pocket, unlocking the screen before handing it over. Perhaps he should be a little more cautious about letting a near stranger invade his privacy like this but he gets a vibe from Noctis and he trusts him.

Noct does something and then a noise pings from his own pocket.

“I sent myself a text and I’ll, uh - text you after class if that’s okay?”

Noctis has really pretty eyes, even when they’re nervous like they are now, but otherwise he’s the furthest thing from Prompto’s type as possible. Doesn’t look like he could lift Prompto above his head at all.

“That’s more than okay,” Prompto says and then biting the bullet adds, “You should text me your King’s Knight code, got a feeling I’m a mile behind everyone else.”

Noct grins, “Dude, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

When they get to the double doors leading into the art building Noctis raises his fist and Prompto bumps it with his own.

His scholarship adviser is going to be so proud. Prompto’s pretty sure he just made a friend.

-

[Noct 14:21] my professor looks like he was alive during the peak of solheim civilisation

[Noct 14:22] you know. if you need something from that period to draw

[Prompto 14:25] dude, this is not one of those classes where I get to draw

[Prompto 14:26] it has a book assigned to it and everything

[Noct 14:27] woah. let me guess. same name as your professor?

[Prompto 14:28] *gasp* what do you know, it is

-

[Noct 16:51] i’m a dick and this is short notice but do you wanna grab dinner tonight? have you been to forresters yet?

[Prompto 16:52] dude, i have work right after class. otherwise i’d totally be all over that

[Noct 16:55] bummer

[Noct 17:01] where do you work?

[Prompto 17:03] sakana. sushi place between a car dealership and a tea place. on the edge of the shopping district

[Noct 17:04] i know it! your tuna rolls are good but man your soy sauce is wack

[Prompto 17:05] all soy sauce is the same. you’re crazy

- - -

One of his professors had strongly suggested they purchase themselves an easel if they want to be serious about art – something about posture. Prompto’s nothing but serious about art but he’s also just on the right side of broke so buying new is out of the question.

Feeling brave he’d struck up a conversation with an older student while taking advantage of the school’s art supplies to work on a bigger project and he’d taken advantage of the fact she seemed more interested in giving guidance than friendship, absorbing every tip she had for getting through his first year of school.

If he was lucky, she said, one of the charity shops might have a second hand easel going for cheap and such is how his hunt began.

It isn’t a successful hunt, and he’d had his first pay-checks without getting lucky. What he ends up coming home with, a few days before he’s due to go for pizza with Noct, is a small second or third hand TV that costs less than half of the money he’d blown at the art store when his scholarship payment had come through.

It’s a terrible TV, small with a couple dead pixels in one corner, but it does in fact work and a little ingenuity means Prompto can stream his Moogleflix account to it for background noise while he slogs through the less fun parts of his school work.

- - -

[Noct 21:04] dude. no. absolutely not. astral wars 5 is the worst one

[Prompto 21:05] what are you talking about it? it has that sweet fake out in the final fight scene, gets me every time

[Noct 21:06] you’re so lame

[Prompto 21:08] oh. sorry

[Noct 21:08] what no. prom its a joke.

[Noct 21:09] i don’t think you’re lame okay?

[Prompto 21:10] well thats a relief

[Prompto 21:11] though not sure why i’d care about the opinion of a guy with such bad taste in movies and video games anyway

[Noct 21:12] oh fuck you you little bitch

[Prompto 21:13] ha ha (^_-)v

- - -

The woman on the phone had told him, in no uncertain terms, that Insomnia Ink haven’t had an apprentice in years but if he comes by on Thursday afternoon Malcolm doesn’t have an appointment booked and Prompto will be able to show him his portfolio.

He hadn’t had a portfolio until he’d applied IU - and then he’d had to scan the whole thing onto a computer at the library - so Prompto scrambles that back together, adds new drawings and graphic pieces to bulk it out and show the breadth of his skill.

There’s a cheery little bell that chimes when he pushes open the door, seemingly at odds with the clean but punkish aesthetic. There’s a couple powered down fluorescent lights that Prompto’s dying to see all alight.

Prompto’s shoes make an attention drawing squeak on the white tiled floor as he approaches the front desk - maybe soon Prompto will get to sweep that floor.

“You alright, Kid?”

Prompto makes himself focus on the person speaking, eyes flitting over all the ink on his arms, trying to pick out words before taking in the kind smile and the effortless and oddly familiar swoop of dark blond hair.

“I’m here to - to see Malcolm,” Prompto says, stuttering slightly with his nerves.

“He doesn’t have any appointments,” the guys says confidently but he drags a book across the desk anyway, as though to check.

“Oh, um, no,” Prompto says, “I spoke to someone on the phone - Ruby, I think. And she said I could come in and show him my portfolio, I’m Prompto.”

The guy looks up from the appointment book, eager now, “Pass it over.”

Prompto pulls it from his messenger bag - the zipper gets caught on the ring binding of a sketchbook he always keeps there and Prompto’s face flushes brightly as he untangles them - and hands it off feeling uncomfortable and nervous.

“I’m, Elias,” he introduces myself, and Prompto’s mouth drops open in shock. Prompto knows exactly who this is.

“Oh, oh man, I - I totally love your work,” Prompto enthuses, thinking of the number of times he’d read Elias’ interview in the second copy of Inked he’d ever bought, “I didn’t realise you worked here.”

“You subscribe to Inked?” Eli asks as he unzips Prompto’s portfolio folder.

“I used to buy it when I could,” Prompto says. He hesitates and adds, “A Lucian import store in Gralea used to get it sometimes.”

Pointless to hide that he’s from Niflheim when he’ll have to tell them to be technically employed here. Even if he’s not working for actual money. If that’s going to be held against him, if the people here are prejudice against him for that then he’d rather know straight away.

“Niflheim doesn’t have its own tat magazine?”

Prompto snorts, “No.”

Elias grins, flicking through a few pages, “Let me grab Malcolm.”

Elias disappears behind the staff door and comes back a scant minute later with a tall dark skinned man on his heels. Some of Malcolm’s tattoos seem to have faded a little over time but there are more, bolder and brighter all over.

Prompto wonders if his tattoo will fade over time but it’s been about fifteen years already and it hasn’t changed a dot in all the time.

“Apprentices are a lot of work,” is the first thing Malcolm says. He flicks through Prompto’s portfolio for a minute, Elias stood by his shoulder. Occasionally Elias point at something and Malcolm makes a noise, but doesn’t say anything.

Elias catches Prompto’s eyes and winks, Prompto feels his shoulders relax a little.

Malcolm flicks a little more then surveys Prompto’s form, taking in the all the pale bare skin.

“You don’t have any tattoos,” Malcolm points out.

“No - not yet,” Prompto says. It’s white lie, he convinces himself.

“Why not?” Elias asks.

“I want it to mean something,” Prompto says at once, “I don’t want to put something on my body and regret it later. I want it to look good and be done by the best. And, well - you guys are the best.”

Elias smiles properly and Malcolm huffs but there’s just the slightest uptick in the corner of his mouth.

“Can I see your sketch book?” Elias asks.

“Oh,” Prompto says stunned, “Sure, but it’s - it’s just a rough one, practice for school.” He’s pleased that his voice is holding steady but his nervousness seems to have focused its self in his hands and they tremble a little as he passes it over.

“You get credit if you do this?” Malcolm says, “At that school of yours?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t want to do it for that. I can graduate without credits for this it’s just - this what I wanna do. I wanna help people get what they want on their bodies. I know that tattoos mean so much for so many people and that - that means something to me.”

“Why not wait until after school?” Elias asks, turning pages and not looking up.

“Why wait?” Prompto retorts, “This is what I want to do, I don’t want to wait three years to start.”

Prompto loves photography and he never wants to stop taking pictures but this…

From the moment Prompto had first opened that issue of Inked - maybe even from the moment he saw that girl’s arms, swirled with colours - this has been it for him. He wants to do this, create this, permanent, quantifiable, meaningful art.

“Why here?” Elias asks, still without looking up.

“You guys are the best, and I wanna be the best too.”

Malcolm huffs again and closes Prompto’s portfolio.

“Look, kid,” Malcolm starts and Prompto knew this was likely to happen, knew that Insomnia Ink didn’t really take on apprentices and even if they did they probably wouldn’t take on some punk kid fresh off the boat from Niflheim.

“You’re talented,” Malcolm concedes, “Full of potential but I just have no interest in having an apprentice. I’m done teaching.”

“It’s okay - thanks for -”

“I’ll do it,” Elias interrupts.

“What?” Prompto and Malcolm say at the same time.

Elias looks up from Prompto’s sketchbook and shrugs at Malcolm, “You don’t want to deal with an apprentice. Fine. Let me deal with him. You might be done teaching but I’m not.”

Malcolm squints at Elias, “You never mentioned this before.”

“Never found the right student before,” Elias says plainly.

Prompto flushes but there's a little bubble of pride swelling in his chest.

Malcolm and Elias stare at each other for a really long time - Prompto has to clench his fists to stop from fidgeting - until Malcolm suddenly takes a step back, putting his palms up in defeat.

“Go ahead.”

Malcolm excuses himself into the backroom and Prompto allows himself to relax, leaning into the front desk.

“Elias,” he says, “Thank you. I can’t - thank you. But why -”

Elias puts his sketchbook down on the table between them and turns it to face Prompto, tapping one of the pages.

It’s a mess of a page, a collection of rough sketches; a bird Prompto had seen on his run that morning, a small pile of apples and a couple attempts at a carbuncle - a mischievous creature from Lucian mythology that Noct had been telling him about.

“You’ve got something,” Eli says, “I wanna know what that is.”

Prompto grins, face colouring again.

“Okay, first things first, Blondie,” Elias says, “Start calling me Eli. Secondly, lets look at your schedule and get you enough hours in here that it’ll count for that credit.”

“There’s paperwork and stuff - if we do that,” Prompto says. He really doesn’t mind if he doesn’t get credit for this, he meant every word he said to them before.

“Let me worry about that,” Eli tells him.

-

Prompto leaves Insomnia Ink almost an hour later with a tentative schedule in place - every Sunday and alternate Wednesday mornings - and a reminder in his calendar to make an appointment with his adviser to pick up the forms to register his apprenticeship formally.

He asks Eli if there’s anything he wants Prompto to do in the mean time and his answer is to just draw. Which Prompto can certainly manage.

The sun beats down on his neck as Prompto starts the walk home, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

He turned the ringer completely off while he was inside but the light is flashing up a storm to let him know there are messages waiting.

[Noct 13:57] break a leg buddy!

[Noct 13:58] that’s what you say to you arty types right?

[Noct 14:04] okay iggy says that’s just for actors

[Noct 14:04] so good luck! i guess

[Noct 14:26] results?

[Noct 14:45] dude don’t ghost me how did it go?

[Noct 14:51] prrommmmmmmmmmmm

[Noct 14:52] telll meeeee

[Prompto 14:55] I got it!

[Prompto 14:56] well kinda. owner said no but one of the other artists took me on

[Prompto 14:56] noct he’s so cool, holy shit

[Noct 14:57] dude. well done. so proud of you

[Noct 14:58] hope you still have time in your schedule for little old me

[Prompto 14:49] dude i’m getting a NOCT stamp all ready for you to use in my diary

- - -

“You’re joking?” Noct says and he lets his menu clatter to the table.

Prompto can’t even begin to explain how great this pizza place smells. Better than anything he’s ever eaten before - his newly expanded Lucian diet not withstanding.

“Cheese is so expensive in Gralea dude. We don’t have any cows. It's all imported,” Prompto tries to joke over his embarrassment.

Noctis stares at him, mouth open.

“Dude,” Prompto says, laughing as he reaches to flick Noct’s forehead. Not very hard, just enough to jerk him back to life.

Noct sputters, swatting at Prompto fingers.

“Tell me you’ve had fries, and soda, and like hamburgers,” Noctis begs.

“The essential food groups? Of course.”

Noct glowers at him, “I mean it!”

“I used to work at a burger joint - and a slice of cheese almost doubled the price of the burger, which was, compared to here - super expensive anyway.”

“Seriously?” Noct asks, frowning,

“I didn’t know it when I lived there but everything is more expensive. And your minimum wage is higher. Niflheim is bonkers, I don't wanna have to go back.”

Not to mention, Prompto adds in his head, the couple decades they’d let children be abducted into facilities designed to train them in to weapons. Definitely not mentioning that. Maybe Noct doesn’t even know about it, maybe he wouldn’t know even if he did see Prompto’s tattoo.

“We - I mean they are actually thinking of raising that again soon,” Noct tells him.

“Holy shit you’re actually learning stuff in class,” Prompto says.

Noct flushes, gives him the middle finger and says, “You’re the worst.”

It took Prompto a couple goes round to realise that when Noct says shit like that he doesn’t mean it. What he’s actually saying is usually something in the realm of the complete opposite.

“Oh man if they raise the minimum wage I’ll actually hand write a note to the king or something,” Prompto muses.

Noct chokes on his drink, his flush deepening.

“I’m sure he’d really appreciate that,” Noct says once his coughing has subsided, really badly holding back a grin, “You know nothing about the royal family, huh?”

Prompto shrugs, “Their house is beautiful,” he says and Noct laughs again. Prompto pats the menu and pushes it towards Noct, “Now pick me a pizza suitable for a beginner.”

“What say you to pepperoni?”

Prompto looks at him blankly, “I have no idea what that is.”

Noct drops his head onto the table with a dull thunk.

- - -

Sometimes, Prompto notices, Noct gets super shy, going so far as to duck behind things when he there’s tonnes of people milling around or getting bashful right before he asks Prompto something.

Today he’d pulled a ballcap from his bag as soon as they’d set off away from campus, pulling it low down and covering his face. They’re on the way to the closest mall so Noctis can grab a book for classes but have been thoroughly distracted in the video game store on the way. Prompto wishes he could afford the console Noct has but it’s just not going to be on his radar for a while. Maybe if he takes up full time hours during the summer break -

But.

Would he be here in the summer? Or would he have to pack up and try and survive in Niflheim for two months?

Shit.

Prompto needs to check his visa.

Prompto hadn’t even thought of that. He’d signed his acceptance, packed up and moved to Insomnia with no aim of ever going back, he’d left everything behind. He had nothing to go back to and he wouldn’t get any support after he quit the -

“Prom - Prompto?” Noctis shakes his arm gently and his friend swims back into focus in front of him, “You okay - you look -”

“I’m fine,” Prompto reassures him, “Sorry, spaced out.”

Noctis doesn’t look convinced and he obviously flounders for a second, “You wanna go get a drink or something - you look really pale.”

Prompto forces a laugh, “I’m always pale.”

Prompto loves hanging out with Noct, don’t get him wrong, its always the highlight of his day but Noct likes to grab food or drinks as he focus of their time together and though he always offers to pay Prompto hasn’t let him since that first time.

He doesn’t know what Noct’s financial situation is but it seems to be wildly different from Prompto’s and he’s loathe to take advantage of Noct’s generosity.

“I dunno, little more Lucian sun and you might just turn into one giant freckle.”

Noct pokes his cheek and Prompto makes an embarrassing squeak as he dodges the second one and bats him away. The shop assistant clears their throat loudly when their scuffle takes them close to one of the displays.

“Sorry,” Prompto says around a smile as Noct snickers from slightly behind him.

Noct isn’t wrong about his freckles. They’ve sort of exploded since he got here. He always had them over his entire body, tiny faint things that had been barely visible when he first left the facility and had darkened up a little when he got to go outside regularly. But here under the sun - a real sun not something eternally covered by clouds - they’ve darkened and spread more and more, clusters over his cheeks and the tip of his shoulders where he’s cut all the sleeves off his shirts.

Seriously, he had not been prepared for the difference in weather.

They leave the store without buying anything and Prompto has to all but shoo Noct towards the bookstore.

Honestly, its like Prompto cares more about his grades than Noct does.

Noct grabs the book he needs without fanfare then drags Prompto over to the comic books, complaining the whole time about the limited selection.

“You’ve seen comic books before, right?” Noct says, waving one in front of his face.

Prompto just stares at him. Since the I’ve never eaten a pizza conversation Noct’s taken to asking him about all kinds of random shit. Most of it Prompto’s has seen if not experienced but every single time he hasn’t Noct’s brain basically implodes. Apparently.

Prompto super enjoyed eating that pizza, but dear gods did it make his stomach hurt the next day.

“So - uh,” Noct starts, all nervous again. Prompto finds it kind of cute but in the way a dog chasing its own tail is cute not the kind of cute that makes him want to climb that guy in the coffee shop like a tree.

“So,” Noct says again, “It’s my birthday next week.”

“Getting old already, so sad.”

Noct punches him in the arm.

“I was about to invite you to the arcade with me and some other friends friends but carry on -”

“Dude that sounds so cool, will I get to meet Ignis and Gladio finally?”

Noct talks about them a lot. There’s a lot of complaints - the two of them sound like overbearing big brothers more than anything - but also a lot of affection too. Prompto’s naturally endeared to them because he likes Noct so much and he hopes maybe they’ll all be friends in the end.

“They can be a little, like, weird,” Noct says, “So don’t freak out of they say anything dumb.”

“I say dumb shit all the time,” Prompto points out.

Noct’s phone rings and he’s still laughing when he answers it.

“Hey Iggy - uh, no I didn’t realise the time. I told Gladio where I was so he sorted, y’know, everything out.”

Noct looks at Prompto while he talks, faintly concerned.

“Yeah. Hey, if I bring you an Ebony will you forgive me and give Prom a ride home too -” Prompto starts waving his hands, trying to refuse and Noct flicks his arm to make him stop, “- yeah, no he’s off campus.”

“Sweet, west exit. Fifteen minutes.”

“Dude,” Prompto whines when Noct slides his phone back in his pocket, “I can walk home - you have to go now?”

Noct shrugs, “I forgot about this, uh - family thing I have to do. But you’re barely out of the way.”

“You going back to your parents?”

Noct lives off campus too, but not in college housing, from what he can tell.

“Gotta see my dad, yeah,” Noct says and there’s something oddly evasive in his tone. Guilty.

“You okay?” Prompto prods.

“Yeah,” Noct says and he physically shakes himself a little, “We better grab that coffee or Iggy will have my balls.”

Prompto tries to say no to another vanilla latte but Noct orders it over his protests and it would be a shame to let it go to waste once it’s in his hand.

They don’t make it out of the west exit until twenty minutes after the call and Prompto frets, expresses some concern for making Ignis wait but Noct merely snorts and tells him that his friend is used to Noct being late.

There, leaning up against a sleek black car in an even sleeker black suit is maybe the most intimidating man Prompto’s ever seen.

He’s tall, with his hair perfectly spiked and looking completely unbothered by the heat despite his dark jacket. He’s typing something out on his phone, glasses perched on his nose, driving gloves in place.

“‘Sup Specs,” Noct says as they get close, “This is Prompto. Prom, Ignis.”

“Highness,” Ignis says to Noct before turning to Prompt, “It’s nice to meet you finally.”

Prompto almost drops his coffee because -

“What the fuck!?” he blurts.

Because that one word - and the meltdown Noct has after it - is how Prompto finds out he accidentally befriended the Crown Prince of Lucis.

-

[Noct 21:12] you promise you’re not mad

[Prompto 21:13] dude no

[Prompto 21:13] just shocked

[Prompto 21:14] like for real no offence

[Prompto 21:14] but you don’t act like a prince

[Noct 21:15] i take that as a compliment. you ever seen prince ravus on tv?

[Prompto 21:16] no but the guy needs to hire a new photographer

[Prompto 21:16] he always looks like something smells bad

[Noct 21:17] prom. buddy. thats just his face

[Noct 21:18] no but seriously you should maybe be mad at me

[Noct 21:18] iggy said so

[Noct 21:19] i kept a way big secret for no justifiable secret

[Prompto 21:20] not mad

[Prompto 21:20] everyone has secrets. i assume you’d planned to tell me when you were ready

[Prompto 21:21] and totally justifiable. you’re a PRINCE. thats like a major security thing

[Prompto 21:21] if nothing else

[Noct 21:22] you’re pretty cool you know

[Noct 21:22] thanks for forgetting your pen in math that day

- - -

Prompto’s still reeling from the revelation the next evening.

Embarrassingly, he spent a few hours looking his friend up online and Prompto had definitely seen his picture before in one of the magazines he bought in Gralea. It makes Prompto feel more than a little dumb. Prompto had definitely seen and heard the name Noctis before. They’d absolutely talked about him, albeit briefly, during the one term of Lucian History his first year of high school.

At first the difference between them seems insurmountable.

He meant what he said, he’s not mad.

But Noctis is one of the most important people on the planet and Prompto is just a freak experiment from Niflheim with nothing to call his own. Noct might think he wants to be his friend now -

There’s a loud knock on his door.

There’s really only one person - well two, because Ignis drove - that knows where Prompto lives in a non-professional capacity. And it’s pretty unlikely the university are popping round for a checkup without the 24 hours notice and at almost nine pm on a Saturday evening.

Noct looks sheepish as fuck when Prompto opens the door. He’s half hidden behind his black ball cap again and clutching two pizza boxes in front of him defensively like a shield.

“Shit, dude,” Prompto says, stepping back to let him inside - Noct doesn’t budge, “Are you allowed to be here?”

Noct takes a deep breath and says all in a rush, “There’s a couple of Crownsguard patrolling around the block so that I can be here and if that makes you uncomfortable I’ll call them and get them to take me home.”

“They’re just here to keep you safe yeah? Why would that bother me?”

Noct winces, “It’s just weird, right? Like, I’m twenty and I have a babysitter all the time.”

“I can handle a little weird,” Prompto tells him. Prompto can handle a lot of weird, has been his entire life.

At one point he didn’t know what names were.

He wonders if he should tell Noct about that, about everything, should probably give him all the information considering he’s the Prince but Prompto kind of thinks he might just never tell anyone ever again and that idea sounds infinitely preferable.

Noct smiles, all relief and finally steps inside.

Prompto’s apartment is tiny, he’d never really noticed before.

Prompto kind of digs it normally, he’s managed to create a little bed nook by draping a length of fabric he got on the cheap a bit like a canopy, intertwined with some fairy lights into it. He’s got his own bathroom which is a luxury Prompto’s never had before and while you probably couldn’t call what Prompto has a kitchen he’s got an oven and fridge and a couple counters on which to prepare stuff. It’s a level of privacy and independence that Prompto’s already used to - he doesn’t understand how he never felt stifled before.

Noct takes a quick look around the place - it takes about four seconds - and slides the boxes onto the open counter top.

“Nice place,” Noct comments.

Prompto scoffs, “I - you can’t -”

“What?” Noct laughs.

“You must live in the Citadel or something,” Prompto murmurs.

“The Citadel sucks,” Noct says simply. He opens up one of Prompto’s cupboards, completely at ease, then another, pulling out a couple plates he asks, “Did you eat yet? You sounded distracted when we spoke earlier and I figured maybe you didn’t have time.”

“No, I forgot - I was working on something,” Prompto explains and he quickly crosses over to his coffee table to start packing up the sketch he was working on so they can put his TV back onto it.

“Wait,” Noct calls and he hurries over, still clutching the plates. “Lemme see, you’ve not shown me your stuff yet.”

Prompto squirms, unused to letting people see stuff he’s still working on.

Noct looks down at it for what Prompto considers to be a slightly too long beat. He chuckles, “Okay, that Citadel doesn’t suck.”

“You think so?” To Prompto its still kind of a mess, just basic lines with half the details missing and the shading slightly off. He’s going to add some colours too but he’s not even started that yet.

“Know so,” Noct says, “You got anything to drink? I forgot to grab something.”

Prompto waves at his fridge, “There’s some soda in there.”

Propto sets up his little TV and Noct doesn’t seem perturbed by the small screen or the less than stellar sound as they settle down with pizza and sides that Noct had bought over. There’s these sweet and spicy peppers stuffed with a different cheese that Noct avoids but Prompto gobbles down with relish.

“I wanted to tell you some more stuff,” Noct mumbles, fiddling with the crusts left on his plate.

“Huh?” Prompto says, “You also the treasurer of Tenebrae or something?”

Noct snorts. “No. It’s - so look. I’m really sorry.”

Prompto stares at him blankly.

“We’ve been being followed when we hang out, by Crownsguard and stuff,” Noct admits.

Prompto shrugs, “I figured when you said there were some here - what, what is it?”

Noct’s face had suddenly been torn, like everything in the world was suddenly terrible.

“They did a background check - before I was allowed to start hanging out with you properly,” Noct explains and then rushes on at whatever pops onto Prompto's face, “I didn’t read it - I wouldn’t even let Iggy bring it in my apartment because I don’t care and I promise I only wanna know what you tell me.”

Prompto flounders a little, “What were they looking for?”

It’s everything in him not to tug at the sweatband on his wrist.

He knows his name doesn't return anything when you chuck it into a search engine but he feels like the Crown probably have a few more resources than he does.

“Just if you had a criminal record and stuff - honestly I don’t really know. Because I don’t care.”

“Right,” Prompto says, chewing his mouth, “Well, I don’t.”

Noct laughs, “I figured,” he peers up at Prompto from beneath his shock of dark hair, “Are you mad now?”

Prompto thinks he feels something but its not anger. Fear, maybe a touch of frustration. But when you lay it all out it’s not really Noct’s fault, he didn’t decide to be born a prince, just like Prompto didn’t decide to be whatever he is.

Noctis probably would know, Prompto realises, if he ever saw his tattoo. He'd probably know exactly what it meant.

“Dude,” Prompto says and he holds out his fist. Noct bumps it.

- - -

Prompto’s still pretty terrified of Ignis and it shows.

He can’t help but shake the thought that if anyone in Insomnia knows about him then it’s Ignis. And maybe Gladio, but Prompto’s not actually met him yet. Today he will, Ignis is picking them up from campus and driving them to the arcade where Gladio will meet them after work.

Work that involves teaching people to kick ass. Or something.

Prompto gets the impression from Noct that Gladio’s tall and broad - big, dumb jerk Noct had said with that usual undercurrent of affection - and he’s pretty excited about meeting him if he looks how Prompto hopes he does.

Prompto’s not shallow but he likes looking at pretty things. He’s an artist.

“Stop being nervous,” Noct tells him, elbowing him gently in the ribs, “Iggy likes you.”

“Sure,” Prompto says.

Noct laughs, “What is it? You got a crush on him or something?”

Prompto splutters, “Dude, no.”

Ignis is a beautiful man but he doesn’t really do a whole lot for Prompto. Maybe because, Prompto thinks, he could probably kill him and get away with it. And not by snapping him in half - which is a thing that does get him going - but with some kind of subterfuge Prompto would never see coming.

Did Prompto mention that Ignis is intimidating?

“Not your type?” Noct teases.

Prompto had accidentally outed himself the other day by stupidly telling Noct that he’d totally let him fuck me while discussing a casting announcement for their favourite series of movies. Noct hadn’t even blinked just carried on the conversation as normal not needling him for more information until Prompto had started to forget it had ever happened.

At one point Prompto had folded and told Noct the very brief history of his past relationships and certain things had made Noct angrier on Prompto’s behalf than he’d ever allowed himself to be. Sometimes Prompto’s just grateful for the attention and he knows that can often make him do things he regrets after.

He’s trying to forget about the freshman mixer he’d gone to during the first week of classes after his scholarship adviser had pushed him to really try and make friends - only to turn up at the address to find a raging party that had almost sent him scurrying home. Before he could turn-tail a warm tan arm had settled over his shoulders, another hand coming up to hand him a beer and Prompto had been lost in the haze of mischievous smiles and spiced cologne. He’d been nice enough and maybe Prompto shouldn’t have had that fourth beer and gone back to his dorm room but -

He had.

After it was over, when Prompto was feeling content and satisfyingly sore he’d wondered if he should maybe suggest they meet up again. But he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and his new friend had asked him to make sure he lifted the handle up on the way out. To make sure the door locked properly.

No more parties for Prompto.

“You want me to have a crush on your friends?” Prompto asks with just a hint of snark.

“I want you to be friends with my friends,” Noct stresses. He throws an arm casually over Prompto’s shoulder and the blond almost trills under the casual touch.

Noct’s not overt with his affection, not hugely tactile, but Prompto craves these brotherly arms and the gentle punches in way that surprises him.

Ignis is waiting for them by the car again, dressed down a touch in black jeans and a coeurl print shirt, and looks up from his phone at their approach, a little smile splitting his face.

“Good afternoon boys,” he greets them, “How were your classes?”

Noct grunts some sort of affirmation but Prompto says, “Not so bad. How was your day, Ignis?”

Ignis looks genuinely surprised by the question, “Busy but manageable. Thank you for asking, Prompto, that’s very kind of you.”

The word is pointed and Noct rolls his eyes as he opens the back door.

“Hey Iggy, thanks for doing my job for me,” Noct says.

Ignis laughs softly as he gets into the drivers seat, “You’re most welcome.”

Prompto dithers by the open door, not wanting to treat Ignis like a chauffeur but Noct is suddenly tugging on his wristband to encourage him into the car, sliding across the back seat to make room. It’s a suppression of all his basic instincts not to yank his arm back at the unfamiliar sensation.

Prompto’s walked past this arcade before so its no surprise when it only takes them a handful of minutes to pull up outside. Prompto half expects the arcade to be empty, that the crown would have cleared it out for Noct’s use but there’s the usual post school crowd of teens and young adults.

“Throw your bag in the trunk,” Noct says as they climb out of the car. He’s staying over at Noct’s apartment for the first time and his backpack is full to bursting with a change of clothes and basic toiletries on top of his normal stuff for school.

They’re about to step through the door when a teasing voice says, “Happy birthday, little prince.”

Noct whirls and throws a fake punch at the guy reclining against the wall. He’s dressed all in black like so many Lucians but there’s a telltale braid in his hair and discreet tattoos on his hands and face that screams Galahd. Prompto assumes this is one of the guards that trails Noct during his every waking moment.

“This your new friend?” the guard asks, inclining his head at the blond.

“Uh huh, this is Prompto,” Noct says.

“Nyx,” he introduces himself.

“Hey,” Noct says, suddenly sicking a mean stink eye on Nyx, “It’s my birthday so no kissing.”

Nyx rolls his eyes and the exchange throws Prompto through a loop until Ignis steps up to their side and Nyx throws him a not at all subtle wink.

“Behave,” Ignis says sternly.

Oh.

Oh.

That explains why Noct hadn’t even stumbled at the news of his sexuality.

Huh. Cool.

“You guys are no fun,” Nyx complains laughing, “Get your asses inside.”

“Tell Gladio we’ll be over by the classic Justice Monsters,” Noct says impatiently grabbing Prompto’s arm this time - thank Gods - and dragging him into the arcade.

Ignis appears a few minutes later when Noct’s staked out a machine and Prompto wonders if he and Nyx had been flaunting the no kissing rule but his thought process is derailed by Ignis pressing a handful of tokens into his palm.

Prompto is bad at Justice Monsters.

He doesn’t think he’d be any good even if he’d had a childhood playing the franchise like Noct. Ignis holds his own well, but Noct trounces the both of them thoroughly.

“You might be able to win a round once Gladio gets here,” Noct says around a laugh, “Which should be like now.”

“He seems to be running a little late,” Ignis murmurs flicking his wrist to look at the time.

“Hey, come watch me and Iggy play Dead for Days and then you can have a turn, it’s so fun,” Noct says dragging him off again.

Dead 4 Dayz - as it turns out to be called - is one of those standing shooters with fake plastic guns that you use to mow down zombies on the screen. Something twists in Prompto’s stomach when he sees them and he swallows as he watches the two of them play, trying not to let whatever this is overtake him.

Ignis beats Noct by no small margin and the prince throws his adviser an exaggerated pout.

“When did you stop letting me win everything?” Noct complains.

Ignis laughs and steps out of the booth, offering the toy gun to Prompto.

“So you just point -” Noct raises his gun, showing how the reticule appears on the screen, “- and shoot at the zombies. And try not to shoot people that are obviously still alive.”

Prompto laughs, “Got it.”

It’s…weird.

Prompto doesn’t really understand how he's feeling.

The first few times he pulls the little plastic trigger he feels like a kid again. Cold and frightened. Hungry and alone. He fires on instinct, muscle memory working for him and feels himself sinking somewhere he’s not been in a long time.

It's frightening and lonely -

Noct’s laugh, full and bright cuts through the fog in his head and he comes back to himself in the noisy, almost too hot arcade.

“Nooo,” Noct all but cries when their scores flash up on the screen and he’s lost, again, “What are you some sort of trained killer?”

Prompto’s laugh has just a touch of hysteria to it but Noct’s too busy feeding more tokens into the machine to notice.

Ignis’ hand, still in gloves touches his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says quickly. Too fast though because one of Ignis’ eyebrows slips up behind his glasses, “It’s - maybe I’m a little hot.”

Some fresh air might actually sort him right out but Noct’s there, pressing the little gun into his hands again and pushing Ignis into the booth in his place.

“Kick Iggy’s ass for me, please,” Noct begs.

It’s not so bad this time, with Noct’s running commentary to focus on and warmed by his victory cries as Prompto’s score creeps ever higher.

By the end of it he’s actually having fun, laughing along with Noct and surprised when he’s actually excited and pleased to win.

-

He’s tired and sweaty, exhausted both from the physical exertion and dealing with an odd bombardment of memories that surge up from seemingly nowhere when he’s not even playing the games that he was prepared to trigger him after that first one.

Noct’s texting away beside him in the back of the car.

“Is Gladio’s sister okay?” Prompto asks quietly.

“Looks like it,” Noct says, “Poor Iris, though. Hospitals suck.”

Prompto feels that mood. He spent enough time around doctors for a lifetime, both in the facility and then out of it when he’d proved to be a bit of a sickly child. Goes some way to explain why none of the foster homes stuck. Plus all that other stuff.

Even so he must have spent less time in them that Noct, who still even now has to undergo regular treatment for the back injury he sustained as a child.

“How old is she?” Prompto asks. Noctis had said baby sister when he’d told Prompto that Gladio wasn’t going to be able to make it after all.

Noct scrunches his face, “Thirteen?”

“She’s fifteen in December,” Ignis says from the front seat. Prompto can hear the eye roll in his tone.

It's amazing what an evening can do; Prompto really gets Ignis now. He’s still intimidating as fuck and Prompto doesn’t know he’ll ever get over that - or the potential that Ignis knows - but he’s got a sense of humour drier that Leide and he’s so quick.

Somehow he manages to both indulge Noct’s whims and take absolutely none of his shit all at once.

“Right,” Noct says, “I dunno she’ll kind of always a be a little kid to me.”

“She’ll be heartbroken,” Ignis teases.

“Aw,” Prompto coos, “But Noct only has eyes for one girl…”

Prompto reaches out to poke Noct in the ribs and his friend bats at his hands and they quickly dissolve into as much of a scuffle as their seat belts allow.

Nyx laughs from the passenger seat but doesn't leap to the princes defence.

Getting Noct to talk about Luna is like drawing blood from a stone - until he starts and then the fondness gushes out of him in that stilted manner of Noct’s.

Now that Prompto’s knowingly friends with the prince he pays a little more attention to news. So he knows there’s probably an arranged marriage in the cards and he’s glad Noct at least likes his potential bride.

Ignis pulls the car into an underground parking garage at the base of a giant apartment building. Prompto’s been over before but it’s even more impressive at night, all lit up amongst the Insomnia skyline.

“I’ll come up and cook you both breakfast in the morning,” Ignis says when the elevator stops a few floors below Noct’s.

Noct groans.

“Brunch,” Ignis concedes and he steps out onto his floor with Nyx behind him.

“Thanks Iggy,” Prompto says, “For driving and everything.”

Ignis smiles and warns, “Don’t stay up too late.”

The elevator slides up the remaining floors and Prompto stifles a yawn behind his hand.

“You work tomorrow?” Noct asks.

“Not ‘til six,” Prompto tells him.

“So we’re totally staying up too late,” Noct decides.

“Duh.”

Noct rushes off for the bathroom when they get inside and then appears several minutes later in black lounge pants and a scruffy t-shirt that feels really out of place when you stop to think about him being a prince.

Said prince promptly dives onto his extravagant couch and becomes absorbed in his phone..

There’s a group of pictures on the wall beside Noct’s dining table that Prompto didn’t manage to get a good look at last time he was here.

One’s a shot of toddler Noct with slightly older Ignis - in an adorable waistcoat and less stylish glasses - that's so stupidly cute Prompto almost makes a noise. There’s one with Noct and his dad and then beside it one that looks like it must have been taken in the last year or so; Noct and Ignis look much the same as they do now and between them, mmuscular arm around each of them is a really tall guy with longish brown hair and a jawline Ignis could probably sharpen his kitchen knives on.

“Is that Gladio?” Prompto asks Noct, pointing at the unfamiliar face.

“Mhm,” Noct murmurs, barely looking up from his phone.

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, taking in the breadth of his shoulders and the width of his arms. This is a man that looks like he could snap Prompto in half. Prompto might even pay him for the privilege.

“Wow,” Prompto says.

That seems to get Noct’s attention and he looks up.

“Gross, dude. Don't even.”

-

Prompto probably spent just a little too long in Noct’s shower this morning so he can’t really blame his friend for being a little impatient with him.

He’s back in his jeans and tugging on his t-shirt then there’s a knock on a door to the spare bedroom.

“Hey, Prom, you naked?”

Prompto laughs.

“No, but -”

The words don’t come in never make it out of his mouth because Noct’s swinging the door open.

Whatever words Noct was going to say also die because Prompto’s not wearing his wristband and Noct’s eyes just zero right in on his tattoo.

Of course.

Prompto scrambles for it, turns his back and pulls it on but the damage is already done. Noct’s seen it.

Forget Ignis knowing. Noct knows.

Prompto probably would have probably given everything he has to stop that from happening.

“You said you didn’t have any tattoos,” Noct says and there’s just a hint of accusation in his tone.

Prompto had said that. His constant white lie.

“I said I’d never gotten one,” Prompto tries to defend, “And I never really got this.”

Prompto doesn’t want to tell Noct the technicalities of how he was given his tattoo because he doesn’t want to think about it himself. He can’t forget about it but he can stop Noct from having to live with the knowledge too.

But then maybe, just maybe Noct doesn’t know what this really is, what this really means. Maybe his only transgression will be this omission of fact. Maybe that will be enough to end this.

“Oh.”

He’s not looking at Noct so he has no way of working out how he might be feeling and Prompto waits, wondering when Noct’s gonna throw him out or if he’ll call Ignis up from his apartment to do it on his behalf.

“Oh fuck - shit, Prom. No. I didn’t know - come here.”

Noct’s hands touch his shoulders and he’s turned on the spot. He goes without fighting, not realising that he’s crying until Noct’s wrapping his arms over Prompto’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

Prompto shudders and tentatively brings his arms up to embrace him back.

“Those bastards,” Noct whispers fiercely.

“You know what it is,” Prompto says, not asking but his voice weak and watery.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

Prompto dares to clutch Noct a little tighter and whispers, “You don’t think I’m, like, a monster?”

“What? No -” Noct pushes him back a little but only so Prompto has to look into his face as he says, “- you’re just Prompto. That’s all I care about.”

Prompto scrubs over his face and Noct doesn’t mention the fact that he just got blubbered all over.

There’s a touch of awkwardness as they linger near each other, not sure where to go from here but its dissipated by a knock on the front door.

“That’s Iggy,” Noct tells him, rushing to assure him, “But I can send him away if you don’t want to see him or you wanna talk about it - or…”

Prompto shakes his head, “I’m good.”

Noct looks immensely unsure and he reaches for Prompto’s arm right above where he’s covered.

“They’re not ever having you back,” the prince says firmly a touch of something in his voice Prompto’s never heard before.

“I don’t wanna go back. Not ever. I really meant it when I told you I was never happy there - it’s not all just to do with this,” Prompto says.

“Things weren’t better, once you got out?”

Prompto raises one shoulder in the tiniest of shrugs, “They were better. But they were rarely ever good.”

The knock sounds again and Noct flinches before throwing himself at Prompto, wrapping him in another hug that’s over so fast Prompto barely has time to return it before Noct’s pulling back, patting his shoulders a little clumsily.

“I’ll get him to make pancakes,” Noctis says starting to walk away. He spins, looking at Prompto speculatively as he backs out of the room, “You have had pancakes before, right?”

Prompto flips him off, laughing softly.

He needs to wash his face before he lets Iggy see him but actually he feels okay.

- - -

Noct never sits him down and makes Prompto tell him everything that happened to him but he asks gentle questions every so often, offering up his own stories from a childhood that hadn’t been completely happy either.

Prompto never had parents to grieve but his heart breaks for his friend when he talks about losing his mother and a time in his early teens when he’d felt apart from his father.

Noct turns a little frantic when Prompto had talked about his training and how the game at the arcade had effected me.

“Oh, shit,” Noct had said, “Iggy said something had happened but he didn’t - Prompto, I’m so sorry, we never have to play those again.”

But Prompto thinks he wants to. It’s not the same and he’ll definitely not ever hold a real gun again if he can help it but those two things are easy to separate in his mind when the game is so obviously not real.

- - -

[Noct 17:44] booooooo

[Noct 17:44] gladios gonna be so mad

[Prompto 17:45] dude. i need the money and for my boss not to hate me

[Prompto 17:46] please make the big guy not hate me

[Noct 17:47] he doesnt hate you

[Noct 17:47] he just wants to meet you

[Prompto 17:48] one day our stars will align

[Prompto 17:48] it is fated

[Noct 17:48] nerd

- - -

“Ah, Prompto, I was hoping you would be here.”

Prompto looks up - surprised - and throws Iggy a smile. He’d really only come round to Noct’s to pick up his sketchbook that Noct keeps forgetting to grab in the morning and bring back to him. That’s not surprising, really, when its difficult to get almost anything out of Noct before midday.

He’s staying at Noct’s for the evening because Ignis is cooking enough for him to eat too. Apparently.

Noct outright offered him some money the other day when Prompto had thoughtlessly complained about his paycheck not coming in until a few days after he needed to grab some extra art supplies. The prince had looked hurt when Prompto had vehemently refused so Prompto’s loosened up on his not letting Noct pay for anything policy and lets him buy his coffee on campus without complaint and eats at his apartment a couple times a week.

Noct seems happier for it and Prompto’s working on not feeling guilty because it's not like he's asking for stuff.

“Uh. Hello, Iggy, great to see you,” Noct says pointedly without looking up from his laptop. He’s got a mean as fuck research paper due for tomorrow it's been giving him grief since the moment he got assigned it.

Ignis gently swats at Noct’s head in a way that mostly just muses up his hair.

“I wanted to thank you,” Ignis carries on, “For your recommendation the other day. I believe Gladio’s already made an appointment with Elias.”

“He has!” Prompto concurs brightly, “He’s coming in Sunday so we’ll finally get to meet.”

Prompto doesn’t let his eyes stray to the picture on the wall. He’s got work to do himself and it won’t do to get distracted.

- - -

Prompto bustles around Insomnia Ink the whole morning before Gladio’s due to arrive, bundle of anxious energy. He sweeps the studio and mops the back room before Eli can even ask him and started to wipe down all the empty stations.

“How are you nervous?” Eli says taking all the cleaning products forcibly from his hands and sitting him down behind the front desk in the twenty minutes before Gladio’s due to arrive, “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Friend of a friend,” Prompto says, “We’ve never managed to actually meet yet.”

Prompto doesn’t think that his friendship with Noct will be affected if he and Gladio don’t get along for whatever reason but he remembers Noct saying I want you to be friends with my friends and doesn’t want to let him down.

Also, there’s that really minor fact that Gladio’s gorgeous and Prompto’s face flushes up easy and his mouth stops working in the presence of really fine things.

Eli’s face is a little strained, Prompto notices and something about his tone filters into Prompto’s brain.

“Wait, are you nervous?”

Eli shrugs but he neither confirms nor denies it.

“Do I need to remind you how amazing you are?” Prompto prods, nudging Eli with his knee. Eli’s a pretty relaxed as bosses go - he hates Prompto even calling him his boss - and he really does just want to teach Prompto, expecting just the very minimum of actual work in return.

“I know I’m amazing,” Eli says, rolling his eyes, “This is just - you know…”

“The most important tattoo of your career?”

Eli scuffs him gently on the side of the head, “Real helpful, Kid. For that you’re cleaning the bathroom.”

Prompto laughs, settling back into the chair a more comfortably.

Prompto keeps up a stream of chatter to keep Eli distracted while they wait and it works, he’s smiling, relaxed against the wall rather than rigidly holding himself up by the time that little bell tinkles above the door.

Prompto stays where he is, excited to finally meet him but not sure if Eli wants to go first or if he wants Prompto to practice signing people in -

Eli glances down at him and nods in Gladio’s direction and he spins the chair around quickly, hopping to his feet.

And.

Fucking shit.

It’s -

Gladio’s ripped out of every idle fantasy Prompto’s ever had, broader and taller and handsomer than the picture had given him credit for in almost every way. His hair is longer, chocolate brown and his eyes warm like golden honey.

Prompto’s mouth is dry and he forces a smile through his nervousness.

“Hi!,” he says, and even though he already knows, “Gladio?”

Chapter Text

Prompto sighs. Noctis casts him a look.

Prompto should probably get up and do some work or actually offer Noct a useful opinion on the series of suits he’s trying on.

“What about this one?” Noct asks.

Prompto forces himself to focus - and frowns.

“Why is it so shiny?”

Noct laughs, “I know right.”

“Make Iggy send it back,” Prompto demands.

“He wouldn’t let me keep this one even if I wanted to.”

“So he does dress you,” Prompto teases.

“Only for functions,” Noct admits and Prompto cackles.

When Prompto’s recovered Noct sheds the horrible shiny jacket and sits next to him on the bed.

“What’s up with you?” Noct asks.

“Huh? I’m fine,” Prompto says.

“Yeah but -” Noct eyes him sceptically, “You’re all distracted. I just - I hope Gladio didn’t upset you or anything.”

“No,” Prompto says quickly, “He didn’t - didn’t upset me at all.”

Noct stares at him for a moment and his face does a lot of things very quickly. Noct collapses back on the bed and groans.

“Noct?”

“Gladio’s not - he’s a great guy but he’s not -” Noct huffs, “He wouldn’t be a good guy for you.”

“What no - I didn’t even… he’s probably not even gay. I don’t -”

Noct sits up again and shoves him in the arm, “You’re a terrible liar.”

Prompto deflates, “Dude, he’s crazy hot. You have no idea.”

Noct snorts, “Plenty of people have told me. And he’s totally bi. It’s not that.”

“It’s because - I know he’s a lord or whatever. I don’t think he’d go out with a common scrub like me -”

“That’s not it,” Noct interrupts him, “Gladio doesn’t really go out with anyone.”

Prompto tilts his head to the side, confused.

Noct scrunches his face up, “He’s never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend he just kind of, I dunno, sleeps with people I guess.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. That’s - not at all surprising actually. Not when you look like Gladio does.

“He’s not like - I dunno how to explain it.”

“He just has one night stands,” Prompto suggests.

“It’s not even that,” Noct says, “Iggy would probably be able to explain it better - casual he always says. He likes to keep it casual.”

Prompto looks towards the door to Noct’s bedroom where Ignis is cooking away in the kitchen.

“Gladio’s got a lot of responsibilities, like me, with the - you know. Inheritance thing.”

Prompto frowns and then, “You mean because he’s the Shield? Can he not date?”

Because Noct isn’t allowed to date. At all. But Noct’s also never really wanted to date much, as he tells it, so it’s never bothered him.

“He can,” Noct argues, “He just doesn’t seem to want to. He’ll probably have a marriage arranged for him too.”

“Oh,” Prompto says again.

“So he doesn't see the point - and if you and Gladio did anything - it wouldn’t be anything real. And I wouldn’t want that for you,” Noct says gently.

Prompto nods. But he doesn’t know.

“Wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Noctis adds.

Prompto nods again.

He thinks back to how he felt after that one night stand he had at the start of the school year and the few times in Niflheim when he hadn’t gotten what he really wanted from a relationship and thinks that maybe Noct is right.

He resolves to put Gladio out of his mind.

He probably wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway.

- - -

The cat is lucky Prompto’s phone changes songs when it does because that brief moment of silence is the only reason Prompto hears his pitiful meow.

“Hey, cutie,” Prompto says, crouching down, panting slightly from his run.

The cat meows again and belly crawls forward a little. Prompto notices a small spot of blood on it’s paw, rust coloured against the orange fur.

“You’re hurt,” Prompto points out, cooing at it. He hold out his hand and the cat flinches back then tentatively inches forwards to sniff his fingers.

Over the course of a few minutes Prompto progresses from little sniffs to the cat letting Prompto scratch behind it’s ears. It licks the pad of his thumb and then struggles to it’s feet, hobbling and limping towards him.

“I got you,” Prompto mumbles to the cat. He’s small but not quite a kitten and Prompto scoops it up carefully, cradling it gently against his chest and trying not to jostle it’s bleeding paw.

It starts up a low rhythmic purr against him as Prompto stands. He’s pretty sure he knows where there’s an animal shelter, but he pulls out his phone as he starts walking.

-

[Noct 09:07] dude i’m never here first

[Noct 09:08] did you get lost?

[Noct 09:10] prom?

“I got it,” the lady says, passing a device over the cat’s neck, “He’s micro-chipped.”

“Great,” Prompto tells her, “So they’ll be okay?”

“I’ll give the number a call and see if someone can come get little – oh how cute - little Butterscotch,” she says.

Prompto smiles at her but tunes out her phone call, rubbing the cats belly as it kicks at his hand with its back feet. They’d cleaned up his paw and given him a drink and something to eat. He’s got a killer limp but they think Butterscotch with make a full recovery.

[Noct 09:15] are you okay?

[Noct 09:16] lemme know if you’re sick. iggy can bring you some soup

“Hi,” the shelter worker says, “They’re owner is coming to get them. They’ll be here soon.”

Prompto’s phone vibrates in his pocket again.

“I better get going,” Prompto says, feeling a little sad, “I’ve got college.”

“Leave your number,” she tells him, “In case they want to give you a reward or something.”

“Oh no,” Prompto says quickly, “I don’t want anything.”

“At least let them offer,” she suggests with a smile.

Dutifully Prompto gives her his name and phone number. As he’s about to leave his phone goes off in his pocket – again - and he turns back.

“Can I take a picture with him? So my friend knows why I’m super late?”

She laughs and holds Butterscotch up so Prompto can take a selfie.

[Prompto 09:21] [Image 07652.jpg]

[Prompto 09:21] i was on a rescue mission

[Prompto 09:21] can be on campus in half an hour

[Noct 09:22] ….

[Noct 09:22] pls tell me thats your cat now

[Prompto 09:23] currently being reunited with its parents

[Noct 09:24] this is the only acceptable reason to stand me up

[Noct 09:24] for the record

- - -

[Linc Sakara 17:04] Swapped your shift from Saturday to Sunday next week. Same times.

[Prompto 17:08] I work my apprenticeship on Sundays.

[Linc Sakara 17:10] Well sort it out.

[Linc Sakara 17:10] You work Sunday or you don’t work at all. Those are your options.

[Prompto 17:12] I’ll get it sorted.

[Link Sakara 17:15] Least I gave you notice.

-

Eli, he calls.

“What’s up kid?”

“My boss at the sushi place needs me to work next Sunday,” Prompto tells him.

“Okay.”

“When - how do you want me to make up the hours? I can only do a few hours in the morning,” Prompto stammers.

“I don’t,” Eli says, “I know you’re busy right now. Just - try not to stress, okay.”

“You’re a terrible boss,” Prompto tells him.

Eli laughs into the phone, “You better turn up with fucking coffee this week you little shit.”

- - -

Prompto’s still a little flustered from being caught drawing a gladiolus flower of all things but he dutifully covers Gladio’s freshly inked skin in tattoo cream and starts wrapping it.

Prompto had heard Gladio’s full name by accident a few days ago - Ignis had been scolding him over the phone. And he’d looked up the word, not sure exactly sure what it was and discovered one of the prettiest flowers he’d ever seen in his life.

Not that Niflheim has a lot of flowers, obviously.

Gladio had liked it though. He thinks. He hadn’t thought Prompto was weird or anything but Prompto can’t help but flush and bumble his way through every conversation, each compliment.

It’s really hard to put Gladio out of his mind, as it turns out, because he’s so big and kind and handsome.

He’s finding it particularly difficult to stop looking at Gladio’s hands - big and rough - and imagining them wrapped around his waist.

Pulling his hair.

Prompto thinks Gladio might be flirting with him sometimes but he’s been wrong about that before.

Really wrong.

“You should let this breath as much as you can,” Prompto tells him, carefully attaching some tape, “And try not to pick when it scabs over, it’s just worse in the long run.”

Gladio’s going to be sick of this by the time its all done, Prompto can’t imagine him wanting to come back in for touch ups.

Gladio flexes his arm and Prompto’s first distracted by the sight of the muscles moving and then concern -

“I hope this doesn’t affect your work too much,” Prompto tells him sincerely.

The last thing he wants is Noct or Gladio getting hurt while he’s not at the top of his game.

“I sorted that out for a bit,” Gladio assures him, “Got people covering me when I need to.”

Prompto nods, “Oh good. Just - good job he’ll be safe, y’know.”

Gladio looks confused, maybe even a little perturbed by the comment and Prompto wonders if he doesn’t like talking about his work when he’s not doing it.

He feels so stupid.

When Gladio goes off to pay for his session Prompto stays behind to tidy a few things and get his embarrassment under control before following after.

“Sure,” Gladio is saying, “I’ll see you both next week, then.”

Prompto shrugs when Gladio turns his gaze towards him, “Maybe. I traded shifts at work so I might be gone before you get here.”

Gladio’s face falls and Prompto feels a weird swoop in his stomach.

“Huh,” the big guy says, “Well, week after then.”

Prompto smiles at him to cover up whatever his head is doing to his body, “You bet!”

- - -

“What’s that?” Noct asks, circumventing a usual greeting.

“Huh?” Prompto says and then he’s adjusting the canvas board under his to take the soda Noct had bought him and he realises, “Oh - I finished my painting assignment so I’m gonna drop it off between classes.”

“I thought your deadline was tomorrow?”

Prompto blinks, surprised Noct had remembered the little detail.

“If I had it at home tonight I’d continue to work on it and probably ruin it,” Prompto explains.

“Can I see?” Noct asks. Noct always wants to see, it’s nice to have someone so interested.

Prompto nods, popping the board onto the bench. Prompto has to wrap his stuff in plastic bags for safety because they don’t fit in his battered portfolio case so he carefully peels back some of the tape and pushes plastic away from the painting.

Prompto actually likes it, thinks his composition is good, enjoys the colours and everything but he'd thought the assignment was a little bland. It’s a still life, just a simple collection of things that are important to him.

He’d floundered for a minute, when the assignment was set, only being able to think of his camera but eventually adding his running shoes - he’d drawn them less battered than they are - and a well used sketchbook to the pile. Last minute he’d chucked an empty coffee cup from the coffee cart that Noct always buys him and the very first copy of Inked he’d ever bought.

“Wow,” Noct says.

“It’s alright,” Prompto concedes. His camera looks particularly good, but he’s spent years with art being only for himself and letting other people’s eyes look at it is still an adjustment.

Noct punches his arm, “Dude, it’s great - is that your phone?”

Prompto’s already rooting in the bottom of his bag for it where it’s ringing quietly and buzzing up a storm - Noct takes his drink back again so he’s got an extra hand.

“It’s my boss,” Prompto mumbles.

“I’ll watch your stuff,” Noct offers.

Prompto steps away to the side, “Hello?”

“Argentum. Good. I need you to work Saturday too,” Linc says.

“But I - we already swapped everything around,” Prompto says uncertainly.

Working two full days this weekend will be a nightmare. The money will be great sure - but he has school work to do. A tonne of school work to do. Plus he’d like to spend some time with Noct and Iggy, maybe Gladio if he’s going to be at Noct’s at all this weekend.

Prompto glances toward Noct but can’t see him, because a small group - mostly girls - have approached him in Prompto’s absence. Prompto frowns. Noct hates talking to strangers, Prompto’s lucky he took Noct by surprise that time.

“Erin’s sick - stomach bug, so she’s out for a full week. You have to come cover her saturday.”

Prompto sighs. It’s inconvenient, but he needs this job, he can’t afford to piss him off or get shifts taken away from himself.

“What time does she start?”

“Five, but I need you in at three to help clean up after the lunch rush,” Linc tells him.

Prompto suppresses the next sigh, “Til eleven?”

“Need you to close up - I’ll give you dinner and you can take anything short dated home with you.”

Which means Prompto will be lucky to get out before midnight and he’s doing a few hours at Insomnia Ink Sunday morning before his shift that day.

“Cool,” Prompto says and before he can say goodbye he hears Noct behind him -

“Shit - fuck. Oh no, seriously. No, back off, please - look what just happened. Shit.”

“Highness,” another voice says and someone in full black is suddenly there dispersing the crowd.

“I have to go,” Prompto mumbles into the phone, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

He tries to rush back over to Noct but there’s suddenly an arm blocking his way, another person all in black materialising from the crowd.

“Not a step closer,” the person growls. They’ve got slicked back brown hair and the coldest blue eyes he’s ever seen. They make him feel - not good.

“I’m his friend,” Prompto says, “I -”

“Not a step closer,” they repeat.

“Lazarus,” Noct suddenly says, “That’s - he’s…just let Prompto through.”

Prompto ducks under the outstretched arm before it can be retracted.

“Noct are you okay, what -”

Noct’s facing away from him, but that’s just because he’s busy mopping up what looks like an entire sticky brown soda from Prompto’s painting.

“I’m sorry!” Noct says desperately, “I don’t know what happened - they were just all there and I tried to back away and then I bumped into -”

He looks a little frantically at the two people - Crownsguard Prompto thinks - his gaze slightly accusatory.

“I told you,” hisses the woman near the prince, throwing daggers at her companion.

The other one scoffs and Prompto just about hears him mutter, “Supposed to keep our distance,” but he shuts up when he gets another glare.

Prompto can’t really pay attention to any of this though, watching Noct’s hands move like there’s a weird filter over his eyes and white noise filling his ears

“It’s okay,” Prompto says slowly, putting his hand on Noct’s arm to stop what he’s doing - likely a complete waste of time.

Plus, it looks like Noct's using his own hoody and the mix of soda and the paint lifted off the board might just have ruined it beyond repair.

“No it’s not - can we fix it?” Noct asks, all frantic again.

“I - I don’t think so.”

Noct touches his shoulder but Prompto’s not really paying attention.

He’s got two classes and then he’ll have to buy a new board and then he can maybe get something else together in time for tomorrow -

“Prom, hey - Prompto.”

Noct touches his face, taps him lightly and Prompto drags his eyes away from his ruined painting to look at his friend.

“I’m sorry,” Noct says again, “What can I do? Do you have something else? We take it to your teacher, we can - I can get you an extension.”

The suggestion fully snaps Prompto out of his daze and he focuses a little harder on Noct’s face and notices - finally - that his eyes looks terrified, maybe even a little damp.

“Hey,” Prompto says and he moves without thinking, stepping forward to hug Noct. Half second later Noct hugs him back, “It’s okay.”

Noct snorts, “Why aren’t you angry?”

Prompto pulls away to shrug, “Accidents happen.” He offers Noct the best approximation of a smile he can currently muster.

“What do we do?”

Prompto looks at the ruined piece again, “I have to do another one?”

“Do you have time?” Noct asks.

“I don’t have a choice,” Prompto says.

“I’ll help,” Noct says quickly.

Prompto laughs, surprising himself, then teases, “That’s cheating.”

He sobers and gathers up his board, wrapping it back up. When he has time, he’ll try cleaning it properly, giving it a white base and see if he can get another use out of it.

Prompto's nothing if not thrifty.

“All nighter, huh?” Noct suggests.

Prompto nods, “Shame I can’t skip classes.” Shame attendance counts against his grade.

“I’ll get us a ride back to yours after,” Noct promises, “And I’ll stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto says.

“Yes I do,” Noct say firmly.

Prompto gets a good look at him again and something clicks in to place. Noct feels guilty and not letting him do anything to try and fix would be really unfair. Prompto doesn’t need it, but Noct does.

“Hey,” he says, “You think that ride can swing us by the art store? I need a new one of these.”

“Sure,” Noct says pulling out his phone and immediately firing off a text, “And I’ll buy the stuff you need.”

Prompto rolls his eyes. He’ll see about that.

-

Prompto doesn’t fair particularly well for the rest of the day.

It’s not one of his best days in Insomnia. He carries around a little nugget of panic all day, unable to really concentrate and then maybe bombing a pop quiz in Solheim Arts. It’s probably not worth much of his grade, but it all counts.

Prompto gets to the car before Noct, kind of aware that he only feels so tired and run down because he knows he’s still got so much work ahead of him.

Normally Prompto wouldn’t approach the car unless Noct was by his side but to his surprise it’s Ignis that slides out of the drivers seat.

“How are you?” Ignis says without preamble.

“Fine,” Prompto says quickly on reflex, “Noct didn’t say you’d be coming for us.”

“He told me what he did -”

“He didn’t do anything,” Prompto interrupts and then he bites his lip, feeling bad for doing so. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down and feeling his cheeks warm.

“Noct told me what happened,” Ignis corrects, “And I wanted to check you were okay myself.”

Prompto hadn’t been expecting that.

It’s nice to know that Ignis cares about him.

“I’m okay,” he tells him, “Just a little worried. Not got a lot of time.”

Prompto means more than just tonight, but isn’t sure if he needs to tell Ignis that.

“If there’s anything we can do to help,” Ignis offers.

Prompto smiles and then -

“Oh shoot, we were supposed to go to the movies tonight.”

“It’ll hold,” Ignis promises, “Which art store do you prefer?”

“Oh - the big one, across from the mall?”

“I know it,” Ignis says, “Gladio’s sister likes it there.”

“Hey,” Noct says, coming up to the car then. He bumps his shoulder into Prompto’s and asks, “Day okay?”

“Shitty pop quiz,” Prompto tells him simply.

Ignis pats his shoulder, looking sympathetic, “Lets get going.”

-

“This place is a maze,” Noct mumbles, “Why all the different paint?”

“Does different stuff,” Prompto says, “I can explain it in detail but I don’t really think you want me to.”

Noct and Ignis both laugh.

“You got me,” Noct admits.

And then Prompto loses him.

He’s sorting through black paint - he needs more of the stuff that dries matte - which he though Noct would appreciate on an aesthetic level at least, but when he pops up from his crouch Noct is gone.

“Iggy?” he says, “Do we need to be worried?”

Ignis laughs, “He won’t have gone far but if we hear a loud crash we should probably go rescue him.”

Prompto does some mental math, seeing what he can afford to stock up on while he’s got the privilege of a car to take it all back to his apartment.

“You alright?” Ignis murmurs.

“Budgeting in my head,” he says back.

“I’m sure if - if what happened has set you back then with Noct or myself can -”

“No,” Prompto says firmly, “I’m not taking money from Noct. Not ever.”

Ignis appraises him for a long moment, eyes both warm and considering.

“You’re a good man, Prompto,” Ignis says softly.

Prompto blushes, “Shut up,” he snaps, over flowing with affection.

He picks out a few more tubes of paint and then decides to fork out some money for paintbrush cleaner - unusually he just uses whatever mild soap he can find but that maybe explains why some of his paintbrushes are barely holding a point any more.

“All sorted?” Ignis asks.

Prompto nods, adjusting the canvas board under his arm and quickly glancing over the contents of the basket Ignis is holding.

“Lets go find our wayward prince,” Ignis suggests.

He’s not hard to find, in the back part of the store where fewer people are because, frankly, the stuff is more expensive back here. He’s pretty absorbed in checking the price tags on the range of easels.

Prompto rushes forwards and grabs his arm, pulling him away.

“Nope,” he says.

“But -” Noct chokes on a laugh and tries to tug Prompto back over, “You said you needed one.”

“Want,” Prompto says, coming to a stop, “Not need.”

Noct sighs, “Back me up here Ignis.”

Ignis glances between them, “It’s Prompto’s decision.”

“Ha!” Prompto says victoriously, “Now come on, we’re wasting painting time.”

Noct scowls, but wordlessly follows him to the register.

-

“What can I do?” Noct asks.

“Just chill out,” Prompto tells him, trying to arrange his stuff the same way as last time. He could check his old piece but he’s got that fluttery, panicky feeling in his stomach again and he thinks that’ll make it worse.

“Nah, come on, let me be helpful.”

Prompto tilts his head to the side considering both the arrangement and Noct’s request.

“You wanna clean my paintbrushes while I sketch it out?” Prompto asks. It seems really weird to ask the Prince of Lucis to do something so basic and menial but Noct jumps up at once to gather the bundle of brushes and head over to Prompto’s sink.

Prompto’s just started his sketch when he realises there’s a slightly tinny noise coming from his kitchen. He looks over at Noct and see him leaning over the counter, paintbrush cleaning solution in his hands and -

“Are you watching a video on how to do it? There’s instructions on the bottle.”

“I didn’t want to fuck it up,” Noct explains.

“You’re adorable,” Prompto teases and Noct’s flings his dishrag across the room at him. Thankfully it’s dry.

-

“Don’t freak out – c'mon, dude it looks great so far.”

The problem is that Prompto can’t get any more paint on the canvas right now because his hands are shaking so badly.

“Hey,” Noct says and he slips off the couch onto the floor beside him, “Stop a sec, have a drink.”

Noct pushes his lemonade into his hand and dutifully Prompto takes a sip. It tastes flat on his tongue and he doesn’t know if that’s because it’s actually gone flat or because Prompto’s struggling to focus on what’s going on around him.

“C’mon, breath for me.”

Noct encourages him to shift so his head is between his knees and rubs at his back, trying to soothe his jagged breaths.

“That’s it,” Noct encourages leaning warm and firm against his side.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles, when he feels more like himself.

“Don’t be,” Noct says quickly, “I kinda - well I used to have panic attacks sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Prompto asks, surprised. Noct usually seems like he gives no shits about anything, it’s hard to imagine him working himself to panic.

“After my accident, yeah.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Of course - sorry.”

They sit quietly together for a moment while Prompto’s breathing returns back to normal completely.

“Hey is that -” Prompto falters, wanting to know but not wanting to upset Noct, “Is that how you lost your mom? In the accident?”

Noct’s already shaking his head before Prompto’s finished asking.

“She died when I was barely more than a baby,” Noct explains, “Dad says she was never particularly healthy and she just got really sick at some point and couldn’t come back from it.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto says, “I bet she was great.”

Noct shrugs but not in a way that suggests to Prompto he actually feels flippant about it, “Dad says I look a lot like her.”

They lean further into one another, looking at the paint dry on Prompto’s picture. It’s not as bad as he’d thought twenty minutes ago. It’s almost midnight but he’s over half done - probably - maybe he’ll be done in time to get something decent to campus. He wonders if Ignis might give him a ride. He’d said something about that but Prompto had started his deep dive into anxiety the moment they’d left the art store and he can’t quite remember.

Noct rest his head against Prompto’s.

“Did you - do you know what happened to your parents?”

Prompto doesn’t really know how to answer. Teeters on the edge of honesty but not able to tip over.

“Just - I know they found a database. And I know you were in foster care, but I wondered -”

“I don’t have any parents,” Prompto tells him.

“They were both dead?”

“No - they…I -” he sighs frustrated and Noct nudges their heads together again.

“It’s okay.”

Prompto swallows, “I don’t have any parents listed in my file. And everyone else does. So who knows where the fuck I came from.”

Cloning. Genetic experiments.

Noct doesn’t respond. Doesn’t offer any opinions or try to make him feel better about it.

“You want one of those cookies Iggy and Gladio bought us?” Noct asks.

“Yes.”

- - -

Prompto got his assignment in with an hour to spare but that ends up being the only positive he has for the rest of the week.

Nothing particularly bad happens outside not a single before two am bedtime and almost no time to spend with Noct off campus.

It means he misses out on a group dinner where he could have gotten to spend time with Gladio outside Insomnia Ink and had to bail of his offer - via Noct - to help Gladio move into his new apartment on the Friday. He’d wanted to get a good look at all the books Gladio talks about when he’s sat in Eli’s chair.

He feels on edge the whole day, barely taking any notes in his morning class and unable to settle on anything at all for the rest of the day.

He wants to talk to Noct, have him sit with him again and calm him down but he’s not there and he’s busy.

He hesitates over calling him a half dozen times and then compromises with himself and fires off what he believes to be a fairly innocuous text.

Noct calls him approximately eleven seconds later.

“Hey - you okay?”

“Yeah - no. I don’t know.”

Prompto crawls onto his bed, settling with his back against the wall and pulling his knees up to his chest.

“What happened - talk to me.”

“Nothing,” Prompto says, he laughs and is unsurprised to find it sounds a little damp. Noct makes a funny noise on the other end of the phone and then the voices he could kind of hear before rise in pitch then fall off completely.

“I think I’m just tired,” Prompto says and he drops his head onto his knees.

“You had a rough week,” Noct admits, “I know its a lot, Prom. But you - you’re doing so great and you’re gonna get past this.”

“I just - there isn’t -”

“Hey, hey, breathe.”

“I just - I feel like I don’t have enough time,” Prompto manages to choke out and then he can’t say anything else because he can’t catch his breath.

“Prom, c’mon. You’re fine. You have time, I promise.”

“But what if I - what if I fail. If I don’t keep my scholarship -”

“Prom,” Noct tries to interrupt him.,

“- I don’t wanna go back. I don’t know what’ll happen to me if I go back.”

“It’s okay. I need you to breathe okay. Please.”

Prompto tries. He really does, but it takes longer than he’d like to admit and more that a little shhing and soothing from Noct for him to actually get himself under control.

“That’s it,” Noct tells him, when Prompto’s managed to take in a handful of breaths back to back without gasping, “You’re okay, nothing is gonna hurt you.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Prompto mumbles, a short time later, wiping under his eyes.

“Don’t say that,” Noct all but snaps, then a bit softer, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I do - it’s not like you don’t have better things to do than talk me down from -”

“I do not have better things to do,” Noct stresses.

“Right,” Prompto mumbles.

He drags his wrist back and forth across his bed spread, trying to itch at the skin underneath.

“I wanna be here for you,” Noct tells him and he’s dropped his voice lower, “You’re - y’know. The best friend I've ever had.”

Prompto inhales sharply but its not the same as before. This time it’s good. This time it’s because he’s happy.

“Same,” Prompto says and Noct snorts on the other side of the phone.

“How did Gladio’s move go?” Prompto asks, wanting to talk anything else and move past the crippling anxiety now that Prompto feels safely on the other side.

“Good,” Noct mumbles - he sounds a bit tired and its only like three pm.

Prompto still has so much to do today.

He sighs.

“You okay?”

“Yeah - just. Tired I guess,” Prompto says. Repetition of earlier but actually the immediate issue now.

“Have a nap and I’ll come round and see you later,” Noct suggests, “Ignis is cooking so I’ll bring you leftovers.”

“Shouldn’t you stay with Gladio, help him finish unpacking.”

Prompto also probably doesn’t have time for that nap. Not if he wants to get everything -

Prompto stops the thought short. He won’t do anything today if he spirals again.

“Nah the meat-head is all moved in, it’s all good,” Noct tells him.

Prompto snorts.

“Be nice,” he tells Noct.

“I’m always nice,” Noct argues.

They laugh.

“So I’ll come see you later, we can study over leftovers and caffeine, okay?”

“That sounds great,” Prompto admits.

“Have that nap,” Noct presses, “You’ll feel better. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

Prompto’s still grinning when he hangs up a minute later.

He casts a look at the mess on his coffee table, TV on the floor again, and tries to dig up the wherewithal to work through some math problems or sketch literally anything.

Prompto goes for a nap.

And Noct’s right.

It makes everything seem just a little better.

- - -

“You could have taken the morning off,” Eli tells him, leaning against the wall where Prompto is refilling the ink rack, “You look exhausted.”.

“Nah,” Prompto says, “I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

Eli’s silent for a beat, “I am really bad at front facing ink bottles.”

Prompto laughs, twisting the indigo bottle so it’s facing perfectly outward.

“You sure you didn’t come in just for a chance to see Gladio?”

Prompto turns to look at Eli so fast he almost cricks his neck.

“Of course not,” Prompto says indignantly.

He means it too.

He likes Gladio, sure, would love to get to know him a bit more, but he’s really trying to listen to what Noct said about him and keep himself guarded.

He's not doing a particularly good job though - just two meetings in and he can feel an infatuation knocking on his door.

So he definitely isn’t here just to see Gladio but he won’t mind if he gets to.

“Well I think you stand a chance,” Eli says, “You’ve never clocked him staring at your ass.”

Prompto flushes, all the way up to his ears.

But that’s nice.

Even if he shouldn’t do anything about it.

“He’s too important for a guy like me,” Prompto says.

Even if he was a girl and could make those little baby shields the crown so desperately - apparently - needs, he wouldn’t really be a good match.

Eli punches him lightly in the shoulder.

“I’m gonna go make my lunch, okay?” Eli asks, “Keep an eye out for the door.”

But Eli is back from the kitchen with a bowl of instant ramen before any customers appear and Prompto finishes up with the ink rack before popping his head round to let Eli know he’s going to organise the stock room before he goes.

You can just hear the bell over the front door from in the stock room, so Prompto knows someone arrives but he tidies away the last of the blue roll before heading back into the shop.

“- stuff away out back before he leaves, you just caught him,” he hears Eli say.

And then Gladio’s voice, deep and warm as always, “Cool.”

Prompto tries to push down the flutter of excitement as he approaches the front desk.

“Hey!” Prompto says as energetically as he can.

Gladio’s so fucking hot.

It’s not even fair.

Prompto wants to pull his hair and trace all the edges of his developing tattoo with his mouth.

Prompto’s not so good at putting things out of his mind.

Gladio smiles at him but his eyes pass over Prompto in a way that leaves him feeling a little raw. And the he can’t help but feel like Gladio’s a little disappointed in what he sees.

“I was just about to head out,” he tells Gladio, admitting, “But I’m glad I got to see you.

Gladio smiles a little wider at that - Eli’s grinning like a madman but Prompto ignores him.

“Me too,” Gladio says then, in a never before seen fit of bashfulness he adds, “I uh - got you this.”

Gladio pushes a tray of drinks onto the front counter and then pulls free what Prompto thinks is an iced vanilla latte. Gladio holds it out to him and Prompto wraps his hand around it gratefully. The coffee machine was the first place he was headed when he got to Sakara and now he doesn’t have to go anywhere near the staffroom and potentially interact with his boss more than necessary.

“Oh wow, thanks,” Prompto tells him, genuine enthusiasm. He takes a sip and Prompto can tell right off the back its exactly the way he likes it - double pump of the sugar free vanilla syrup.

“Perfect,” Prompto tells Gladio, “I’ll need this to get through my shift.”

Gladio’s smile softens and so do all of Prompto’s insides.

Gladio’s so nice. He looks all tough and terrifying at first glance but Prompto thinks he’s actually a giant teddy bear.

Maybe a tiny bit terrifying.

“Glad to be of help,” Gladio says.

Prompto takes another pull through the straw and glances at the clock.

Shit.

Prompto darts behind the counter for his backpack, he still needs enough time to get changed when he gets there.

“I gotta go,” Prompto says apologetically, “I’ll see you on Wednesday Eli, and you next week Gladio. Sorry, bye!””

He rushes out the door, waving over his shoulder.

-

That coffee sees Prompto through cleaning up after the lunch rush and rotating all the to-go containers. There’s some spicy peanut rolls that are looking less than stellar so he dumps them in the staff fridge, wondering if they’ll be a midnight snack on the way home.

Erin comes to the table he’s wiping down, fresh napkins and utensils in hand.

“So, I thought you had a stomach bug or something?” Prompto asks her.

“No,” she laughs, “Double n Erinn has a stomach bug. Linc really needs to learn the difference between us,” Erin says, rolling her eyes.

Prompto likes both Erin(n)s, but this one is his favourite. Her hair is blue at the moment but when they first met it was pink. She’d spent almost an hour one shift bemoaning the fact that Prompto could die his hair whatever colour he wanted without bleaching it first. And that, she says, is a wasted opportunity.

Prompto’s not exactly a huge fan of his natural hair colour, sure, but he can’t imagine himself any other way.

“So - were they cute?”

Prompto blinks at her, “What?”

“The number on your coffee cup? Were they cute?”

Prompto presses his cloth into her hand and rushes back over to where he stashed his coffee cup, Erin’s laughter following behind him.

“Shit,” he mumbles, glad there are no customer.

“So they weren’t cute,” Erin says, coming around beside him.

“Not for me,” he mumbles.

“Huh?

“I didn’t buy the coffee,” Prompto explains, “So the number isn’t for me.”

Erin frowns at him as he grabs one of the post-its from beside the register.

“What are you doing?” Erin asks.

“Copying the number down. Wouldn’t want him to miss out.”

“So he’s not cute,” Erin says.

Prompto laughs, “No he’s definitely cute - in a snap me in half, pick me up one handed kind of way.”

Erin cackles - she’s got the dirtiest laugh Prompto’s ever heard.

“So why are you giving him someone else’s number? Keep that hunk for yourself.”

Prompto chokes, “That’s not fair, Erin. Maybe this is his soulmate, or, y’know. A banging one night stand. Who knows.”

“Whatever,” Erin scoffs, “You’re too nice.”

- - -

Prompto survive yet another week by the skin of his teeth.

He goes from his apartment to school to work and back again ad nauseam, cranking out the papers he needs and turning over the requisite art work. He’s not sure much of it is any good but it’ll stop him from failing out at any rate.

[Noct 11:21] movies when you and gladio are done

[Noct 11:21] ?

[Prompto 11:26] i probably need to get some work done

[Noct 11:27] you NEED a break. iggy says so too

[Noct 11:28] [Image 12887.jpg]

[Noct 11:28] look at his disappointed face

[Prompto 11:29] wow okay. （／_＼） yeah. i’ll meet you at yours?

[Noct 11:29] we’ll pick you up （・ｗ・）

“Kid,” Malcolm says, appearing seemingly from nowhere as Eli is showing him how to take apart and clean the main part of the tattoo gun.

“What’s up, Malcolm?” Eli asks.

“I’ve got some stuff for him to do,” Malcolm says.

“Something useful for him?” Eli argues.

Malcolm raises an eyebrow.

Eli sighs.

“We’ll go over this next time,” Eli tells him, “Okay Blondie?”

“Got it,” Prompto says, disappointed.

He follows Malcolm back to the office where he’s unceremoniously handed a list.

“Get all that cleaning done, and then, if there’s time you can reorganise the catalogue.”

“Okay,” Prompto says calmly.

Prompto looks at the list - he’s not going to get to reorganise the catalogue.

-

He really only gets a chance to make Gladio and Eli a coffee because Malcolm sends him to make one for him.

He deposits the two mugs down by Eli’s station and manages to meet the concerned tilt of Gladio’s brow with a smile.

Prompto turns to leave - he’s still got to clean the kitchen and file Malcolm’s paperwork.

“Get your ass back here,” Eli says abruptly.

Prompto twirls back around. Apologetically he says, “Malcolm gave me a list longer than my arm -”

“You’re not Malcolm’s apprentice,” Eli huffs.

“Can’t you overrule him?” Gladio asks Eli, taking a second to flex his hand as Eli pulls back from his arm. Prompto watches a muscle jump in his bicep and has to look away.

“Malcolm owns the place,” Eli explains, and Prompto wonders if Gladio thought this was Eli’s shop. It probably should be at this point.

Eli looks up at him, “Sorry, Kid, but you come help me wrap, okay?”

“Thanks,” Prompto says, he throws another grin at Gladio, “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

He’ll see Gladio plenty after the appointment, at any rate.

-

Prompto finishes up in the office just a little before the end of his shift. The new catalogue is still empty so Prompto takes it out to the front desk and starts flicking through the old one, comparing some of the new pages with the old.

Eli whistles and Prompto looks up to see a tub of ointment careening towards his face. He gets his hands up just in time to catch it.

“I trust him, you trust him?” Eli asks Gladio.

“Not done me wrong yet,” Gladio says immediately, though his tone sounds a little flat.

“I’m gonna talk to Malcolm,” Eli announces. He leans over to ruffle Prompto’s hair as they pass and if the shop was empty Prompto would be giving him the middle finger.

As he gets to where Gladio’s sat waiting for him Prompto pulls the slightly crumpled post-it from his back pocket where he stashed it this morning.

“Here, I saved this for you wouldn’t want you to miss out,” Prompto says, tucking it into Gladio’s palm.

He pops the lid on the ointment and starts to smear it gently over Gladio’s fresh tattoos. Trying to be attentive and thorough without lingering over his warm skin.

“Why did you just hand me my own phone number?”

Prompto stops what he’s doing.

That - makes no sense.

He looks at Gladio’s face, turned upwards towards him, and tries to find some semblance of sense in his honey coloured eyes.

“That was - didn’t the barista write that on the cup? For you? I thought - ”

“No,” Gladio interrupts, breathing what sounds like a sigh of relief, “No, I wrote my number there for you.”

That makes no sense either.

“Oh,” Prompto murmurs, moving on autopilot.

Did that mean - was Eli right?

Did Gladio like him?

“Oh,” Prompto says again.

He feels the heat creep up from his neck and over his face. Feeling like he’s putting out a thousand watts., he ducks his head as he pulls off bits of tape to stick down the wrapping. It’s harder with Gladio, because there’s so little skin without ink where he can attach the tape.

He chews on his lip nervously.

Gladio can’t like him. That’s crazy. Prompto’s nothing.

It must be something else it must be -

He’s Noct’s friend.

Gladio just wants the person that spends so much time with Noct to be able to contact him. Just in case.

That must be it.

He manages to get back over to the desk without talking to Gladio again, masking his disappointment.

Not that he should be disappointed because he was supposed to not be caring about Gladio like that anyway.

Prompto knows he needs to say something, needs to get out of his head before Gladio realises what’s going on.

“Prom!” he hears and Prompto hadn’t even heard the door open but there are Noct and Iggy to collect them.

He's barely seen Noct all week and it feels so great to have him here now.

Prompto feels some of the tension leave him as he meet Noct’s raised fist with his own, tapping the backs of their hands together, then their palms.

Ignis pats him on the shoulder as he passes on the way to Gladio and Prompto makes sure to send him a smile.

“You’re Prompto,” he hears Gladio say.

Noct looks just as dumbfounded as Gladio sounds and Prompto feels.

Gladio knew that, he had to know who he was.

He had to know. Prompto had introduced himself, hadn’t he?

Maybe he hadn’t. But Prompto had given Gladio the recommendation for here so surely he knew just from that.

Or Iggy, Ignis must have told him.

“Didn’t - didn’t you know?” Prompto asks him.

Gladio shakes his head.

Eli’s the first one to laugh, Noctis cracks up a half second later.

“I really don’t understand what’s happening?” Prompto admits.

Gladio laughs, “You and me both, Freckles.”

“Ah,” Eli says, “Maybe if anyone ever said your name here he might have stood a fighting chance.”

Gladio shakes his head, still looking surprised and pulls his wallet from his pocket.

“What do I owe you?” he asks Eli.

-

Noct drags him to the bathroom as soon as they get to the movie theatre.

Seeing that Noct intends to actually use a urinal he hops up onto the counter between two sinks.

“Did he really no know who I was?” Prompto asks.

“I mean - I guess,” Noct says - super helpfully.

“Did you know he didn't know?”

Noct shrugs, “I knew he didn’t after the first one, but I assumed he’d worked it out by now.”

“Huh.”

“Iggy must have known,” Noct muses. Prompto hears his zipper and then Noct comes to wash his hands in the sink next to him.

“You look so spooked,” Noct tells him, “Why’s this freaking you out so much?”

“I don’t know,” Prompto says, a half-truth.

“Come on,” Noct says, grabbing his arm and dragging him back out of the bathroom.

Gladio’s recovered much better than Prompto managed. 

“What do you guys want?” he asks calmly as the four of them step into line at the concessions stand together.

“Nothing,” Prompto says automatically.

Noct elbows him in the ribs, “He like the salt and sweet combo.”

Gladio nods them half smiles, “With lemonade - sugar free?”

Prompto flushes, only able to hold Gladio’s gaze for a second, “Yeah, thank you.”

Prompto fidgets as they move up the line, barely able to keep track of what Noct’s saying to him.

He scratches under his wristband.

He has to ask. He has to know.

Making sure to keep his phone tilted away from Noct he types out a message. He’s pretty sure he knows the number by heart right now - he’s read it probably a hundred times in the last week.

[Prompto 17:39] why did you want to give me your number if you didn’t know i’m noct’s friend?

Prompto looks down at his phone when Gladio looks back over at his shoulder towards him.

“You’re not stressing about college are you?” Noct asks him.

“No,” Prompto answers honestly.

He’s really not for once.

Amazing what a distraction does for a guy. 

[Gladio 17:42] Because you’re really fucking cute.

Prompto goes all hot again, but he has to fight back a grin.

[Prompto 17:43] oh (・о・)

[Gladio 17:43] Is that okay?

Is that okay? It’s the most okay thing Prompto’s ever heard.

[Unknown 17:54] i mean i’d rather be devilishly handsome or hot af but i’ll take it

[Gladio 17:55] That too.

[Gladio 17:55] I *meant* is it okay that I specifically think you’re cute as fuck.

[Prompto 17:56] more than

[Prompto 17:57] you’re kinda the hottest guy i’ve ever seen

[Prompto 17:57] except not kinda, just actually

Prompto can’t help his grin then, but he tries to keep it in check by biting into his lip.

“Shit, dude, have you seen this?”

And Noct slides his phone literally on top of Prompto’s so he couldn’t see if Gladio’s messaged him back even if he had the time to do something about it.

- - -

Prompto leaves Noct asleep.

This has happened before.

Half the time he stays asleep until morning and the other half of the time he wakes up after a quick hour power nap.

He really is an expert at napping.

Prompto can’t blame him, he’s got a hard life. Hard in a different way to Prompto’s, but still hard.

Prompto’s been sleeping like garbage but he’s surprisingly not tired.

He could really do with popping his back though, his spine feels like it’s made from over inflated bubble wrap.

Prompto twists around so his head is hanging off the couch and hooks his knees over the back.

No matter how much he twists though he just can’t get it to pop. Sighing in defeat he hangs his head fully down. To his surprise there’s something sat under the coffee table - a book.

Prompto stretches from his current position, reaching as far as he can with his arm -

Anyone but Noct would have woken up from the noise his back makes, not dissimilar to rapid gun fire, terrifyingly loud over the almost muted load screen music.

Prompto groans with relief, stretching just a little further to get his fingers on the book, dragging it towards him and killing two birds with one stone.

He’s pretty sure it's Gladio’s.

It’s not that Noct doesn’t read. But - he doesn’t really read.

And he’s not sure Ignis could bring himself to read something from the Altissia Amore collection.

Prompto glances over at Noct, almost one with his couch cushions at this point, and starts to read.

-

[Prompto 22:26] why the fuck is lady graybeck fucking around with the farm hand when she has LORD ABBINGDON sniffing around??!? (・・) ⋋_⋌

Prompto’s not sure what he’s expecting when he sends the message. He’s not spoken to Gladio since they were at the movies two days ago, unable to work up the courage to make the next move - and honestly not really knowing if wants to - and maybe a little put out that Gladio hadn’t messaged him first.

He certainly isn’t expecting the big guy to message him back almost immediately.

[Gladio 22:29] 1. Where the hell did you find Sweetest Grace I lost that MONTHS ago?

[Gladio 22:30] 2. Lady Graybeck is a dumbass, keep reading, it gets worse.

Prompto snorts.

[Prompto 22:32] am staying with noct but he crashed after three games of smash bros and i was hanging upside down off the couch and found it under the coffee table

[Prompto 22:32] so i also learnt iggy doesn’t clean under the coffee table i guess

[Gladio 22:33] Why were you hanging upside down off the couch?

[Gladio 22:34] Noct is supposed to clean the living room himself. Iggy must be trusting that if he can’t see mess it doesn’t exist.

[Prompto 22:35] combo of being bored and really needing to click my back

[Prompto 22:36] why do i suddenly feel like i need to find noct’s vacuum?

Ah shit.

He really forgets how much Ignis does for Noct sometimes. It’s kind of insane. He gets that it’s Ignis’ job but if anyone in Eos has the middle name above-and-beyond it's Iggy.

[Gladio 22:38] Noct will sleep through it but his neighbours might be mad.

[Prompto 22:39] true. i’ll go fold all his socks or something instead

[Gladio 22:40] I’m taking Noct to campus in the morning, will you be there?

[Prompto 22:41] nah, i’ll have gotten up to run home before Noct’s first alarm goes off

He considers, briefly, ignoring his plans in favour of getting to see Gladio tomorrow but he and Noct just smashed three peoples worth of fried rice and washed it all down with a pint of ice cream

[Gladio 22:42] You mean run in the literal sense don’t you?

[Prompto 22:43] heck yeah, gotta get my cardio in

[Gladio 22:44] Can’t believe I’ve gotta wait until Sunday to see that cute little ass of yours.

Prompto blushes, even though there’s no one there to see it and flails his legs, kicking out in glee.

He’s never going to be able to put Gladio out of his mind.

Prompto wonders if maybe he just needs to get him out of his system. Even if the idea of having to know Gladio just as a friend after whatever seems to be going on between them fizzles out is oddly painful.

This is the perfect chance to side step the flirtation and set them on the straight road to nothing more than friendship.

Prompto decides not to take it.

[Prompto 22:47] what is it they say? absence makes the dicks grow longer?

[Gladio 22:48] I’m not sure that’s what THEY say but it is what I say.

[Gladio 22:49] Now go to bed before I keep you up all night.

Prompto’s tempted to ignore him, push it further but he’s in Noct’s apartment with the prince asleep three feet away so it can’t actually go anywhere satisfying.

[Prompto 22:51] sure, send me away just when its getting GOOD

[Prompto 22:52] night big guy （*＾3＾）

[Gladio 22:53] Goodnight, Freckles

Prompto covers his his face with his arms and doesn’t uncover himself until Noct wakens with a groan and shoves him slightly in the side with his foot.

“What time is it?” Noct mumbles around a yawn.

Prompto rolls off the couch and stumbles to his feet.

“Almost eleven,” he says.

“Dude,” Noct says sounding more alert, almost shocked, “How come you let me sleep so long?”

“Thought you needed it,” Prompto says simply, making his way to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just gonna load your dishwasher,” Prompto tells him, unable to shake the need to do something to make Iggy’s life easier.

The garbled noise Noct makes is probably inquisitive.

“Just wanna pull my weight,” Prompto adds.

Noct sighs and then groans as he too gets to his feet, “I’ll help.”

Prompto wishes Noct could help him work out what to do about Gladio, but something tells him that’s not a conversation either of them will enjoy.

- - -

“Like this?” Prompto asks, showing Ignis his little half moon carrot slices.

“Perfect,” Ignis says and Prompto grins at him, feeling proud of himself. He pops a carrot slice in his mouth and Ignis just smiles indulgently.

“Don’t care what they look like,” Noct says, “Not eating them - holy shit, Iggy you’re not using that.”

Prompto looks up, surprised, and watches as Ignis adds just the smallest amount of paste into a frying pan. Judging from the pot its in Ignis must have made it himself.

“What?” Prompto asks, “What’s wrong?”

“That stuffs hotter than Ifrit’s balls is what,” Noct says looking genuinely terrified of the stuff.

“I’m diluting it with plenty of coconut cream, Noct, it would be a shame to waste it. The peppers were expensive,” Ignis scolds gently.

Prompto looks between the two of them, “How spicy?”

“I bought some peppers imported from Galahd and thought I could use them like leiden peppers, I was quite mistaken,” Ignis explains, “Here.”

He puts just a tiny dab on the ends of a teaspoon and passes it over.

Noct winces when Prompto pops it in his mouth but -

“It’s nice,” Prompto says, dumbfounded.

Ignis takes the spoon back, cleans it against a fresh tea-towel and scoops up a bigger amount.

Prompto pops it into his mouth and savours the flavour. It’s spicy and sweet and salty and not for the first time Prompto marvels at Iggy’s ability to put together a recipe.

Noct frowns at him.

“Let me try it again,” he tells his adviser.

Iggy’s smirking when he passes Noct a spoon and Prompto all but cackles when Noct immediately scrunches his face, eyes filled with regret.

While Noctis chugs milk - “Not from the carton, Noctis!” - Ignis packs up the rest of the paste.

“You ought to take this home with you, get some real use out of it,” Ignis tells him.

“You’re fucking unnatural,” Noct wheezes, wiping away his milk moustache.

The word freezes Prompto from the inside out.

Hadn’t he thought that about himself a thousand times?

But Noctis -

“Shit,” Noct says, “I didn’t - I didn’t mean that.”

Of course he didn’t. Noct had only said that because he didn’t think that. Noct thought Prompto was so normal that he hadn’t even thought not to say that.

He can feel Ignis looking at them but he focuses on Noct’s earnest face, telling himself it’s okay.

“Well - maybe the Nifs lined my stomach with lead or something,” Prompto manages to tease.

Noct’s face stays unsure for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before it cracks with a smile.

“That’d explain it,” Noct says.

Ignis says nothing, of course, but then Prompto kind of thinks he already knows.

It’s nice of him to pretend otherwise though.

- - -

[Gladio 18:51] I can’t imagine you running in the snow. Didn’t you just freeze solid?

[Gladio 18:51] You're teeny tiny. In the BEST way, I promise.

[Prompto 18:52] okay. here me out. have you ever exercised in LAYERS?

[Gladio 18:54] That sounds so rough. I’m a gym shorts only kind of guy.

[Prompto 18:55] tease (*^.^*)

[Prompto 18:56] where did you guys end up going for dinner?

[Gladio 18:57] Some Altissian place off the harbour.

[Gladio 18:57] Noct likes the fish so much he’ll be coerced into eating a couple mouthfuls of peas.

[Prompto 18:58] that has to be seen to be believed

[Gladio 18:59] You know you were invited?

[Prompto 19:01] deadlines are kicking my ass

[Gladio 19:02] Sorry, Freckles. I’d promise you it gets better but I have a feeling it only gets worse.

[Prompto 19:03] kill me now (ㄒoㄒ)

- - -

“Least he warned us, I guess.”

Prompto snorts, swapping sheets with Noct and flipping to the back of the book for the answers.

Prompto’s slightly better at math than Noct but it’s by the absolute tiniest fraction.

Ignis would be proud of his attempt at math humour, he thinks.

“I always do like half a grade worse on pop quizzes just because of the panic,” Prompto admits.

Noct smiles at him sympathetically.

“Prompto,” Ignis calls, “It’s seven-thirty.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, scrambling his stuff into his back pack.

“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride?” Ignis asks, stepping more into the living room just as Prompto’s zipping up his bag.

“Traffic is dumb,” Prompto says, “I can just cut through the streets and get there in half the time.”

“Call when you get off work, we can study over video chat,” Noct suggests.

“I’m closing,” Prompto says, “I won’t be off until midnight, probably.”

“What time is the last bus?” Ignis asks - even though this is one of those things Prompto knows he already knows. He’s asking simply to make a point.

Prompto grimaces at him.

“I see,” Ignis says, but makes no further comment.

“Meet you early on campus?” Noct offers though he too is grimacing now.

Prompto laughs, “You got it buddy.”

Noct raises his palm and Prompto taps his own against it, “Bye guys!”

Prompto races down the stairs because the sooner he gets to work the longer he’ll have to suck down a vat of coffee before having to deal with the types of people that want cheap-ish sushi and substandard noodles between the house of eight pm and midnight.

They’re a mixed bunch usually, but the waft of alcohol usually gets more severe the later the time.

He watches his feet as he runs, worried about tripping on the stairs, and as such doesn’t notice he’s about to barrel right into someone until its about four seconds too late to do anything about it.

“Oof,” he says as he stumbles back, right into the arm Gladio raises to catch him.

Gladio smiles down at him, all roguish with white teeth and stubble across his jaw.

Prompto wants to lick it.

Which is probably weird.

“Hey there. If you were trying to rush off before I got here you’re too late,” Gladio says.

“I wasn’t!” Prompto rushes to explain. He takes in Gladio’s expression again and realises he was teasing. Prompto laughs, relaxing a little, “I’m gonna be late for work,” he explains.

The coffee isn’t quite as appealing now though.

Gladio’s eyes flit over him and Prompto remembers you’re really fucking cute, feeling emboldened enough to put his hand against Gladio’s chest.

He’s touched him before, of course, with much less clothing involved, but Gladio’s skin is still warm even through his t-shirt.

“I didn’t know you were coming to Noct’s today,” Gladio says.

That’s because he really wasn’t supposed to be. Prompto had sketches he’d much rather be working on over math homework for a class he didn’t want to take in the first place. Or photos that need editing for, well, himself.

“Me neither, but we got told we’re having a test on Tuesday so we decided to have a little impromptu cram session,” Prompto explains.

Gladio drops his arm from around his shoulders and Prompto’s disappointed for the half second it takes for that hands to trail down his arm. He suppresses a shiver at the obvious sword callouses and firmly does not think about what those hands might be able to do to him.

Gladio touches his jaw and Prompto meets his eyes again, going hot all over at the obvious hunger there.

When was the last time someone wanted him so openly?

“So about the favour I owe you,” Prompto reminds him, trailing his fingers over his chest slightly.

Prompto’s schedule is a mess, but he’s deep dived off the fence, onto the side of getting whatever he can from Gladio.

It’s not gonna last forever, he knows, might not even last that long.

But it’ll probably be a hell of a ride.

“I’ve not given you the book yet,” Gladio reminds him.

Prompto grins up at him, fluttering his eyelashes just so.

“I think you’re good for it.”

Gladio grins back, “Sunday? We could do something after my appointment.”

Prompto doesn’t want to keep putting him off, obviously, but he can’t afford to spend any time doing anything but schoolwork this weekend. He’s already on the cusp of falling behind.

“I have to study more for that test and I have a massive project due for my portrait class,” he admits.

Gladio seems unfazed. “Need a model?” he offers, and he flexes one of his arms.

Prompto giggles, eyeing the muscle.

He’s never going to get over the way Gladio looks. Not ever.

“Next time.”

Prompto wonders if he actually means it or if he’s just flirting. Prompto would love to sketch him, he’d never want to stop.

“What day can you squeeze me in then?” Gladio asks.

“Tuesday?” Prompto says, that gives him plenty of time to get ahead a little, “After my test I should have a breather and I know Noct and Iggy are at that thing so they cancelled your normal plans.”

“Sounds good,” Gladio agrees, “What time are you done with school.”

“I have a lecture until six and then I’m all yours,” Prompto tells him.

“I’ll meet you on campus?” Gladio suggests, “Then take you for some food.”

Prompto wasn’t expecting that.

From everything Noct had told him - and Gladio’s own actions - he’d figured Gladio would just want to, well, hook up.

Prompto’s had relationships that rode on the side of casual before and they definitely didn’t ever include food Prompto was expected to eat outside of a car.

“You don’t have to do that,” Prompto assures him quietly, ducking his head again.

“I want to,” Gladio says earnestly.

Prompto smiles up at him, wondering if he can maybe keep Gladio down here a little longer. See if -

His phone blares shrilly from his back pocket.

Twenty minutes until his shift starts.

“Shit,” Prompto blurts, “Work.”

Gladio nods, smiling gently, “Will it be quicker if I drive you?”

Prompto shakes his head, already backing away, “Not with the evening traffic.” Hopefully he adds, “Text me?”

Gladio winks, lifting one hand in a wave, “You know it.”

- - -

Prompto thinks he might be the only person cleaning the toilets at Insomnia Ink.

Malcolm hadn’t even used words today. Just tucked the bucket with all the cleaning supplies next to the front desk where we was going over some of his art with Eli and gestured at it before shutting himself into the office.

“Sorry, kid,” Eli tells him, “Your stuffs really good though, gets better every week.”

“Thanks,” Prompto says, “And - you know. If I apprenticed anywhere else I’d have to clean the toilets and stuff.”

“I just want you to learn,” Eli says, “Malcolm will stop his weekends soon, I promise. And we’ll work more on stencils and stuff.”

Prompto grins, “Thanks,” he says again.

Somehow he doesn’t get to see Gladio arrive and manages to miss Malcolm leaving for the day.

Prompto looks up from where he’s organising back dated magazines - Eli told him that Malcolm talks about throwing them out every other week - to see that its way past halfway through Gladio’s appointment time.

Admittedly the job is taking longer than it should because Prompto keeps getting distracted by the contents of said magazines.

Prompto lets himself out of the office and shoots Gladio a smile as he makes his way into the kitchen.

He makes a mean coffee now, if he does say so himself, so he makes up cups for Eli and Gladio wondering if anyone else had made Gladio a drink before now.

“There you are,” Gladio says warmly as he puts the cups down.

“Hey,” Prompto says, feeling a little shy. He looks at the feathers on Gladio’s arms, now come to life with details and shading, “That looks so good - really awesome.”

It’s everything Prompto always knew a tattoo could be.

He wars within himself, hating the thing on his wrist while wanting something new for himself.

Eli had ask him about doing him a tattoo last week, but Prompto’s not sure he’s ready yet. It’s stupid of course, Prompto already has a tattoo, another shouldn’t be a big deal. But it is.

He’d caught Eli looking at his sweatband a few times and Prompto knows he suspects there’s something under there but Prompto doesn’t know if Eli has any idea exactly what it might be.

Prompto tries to convince himself it would be okay, to just show Eli the mark and let him know exactly why Prompto’s struggling, but he’s still afraid.

Noct reacted well, sure, but Noct doesn’t often think the way most people do.

“I’m really happy with it,” Gladio agrees.

“Did you finish the magazines?” Eli asks.

“Not even close,” Prompto admits.

Eli laughs, “Good. Sit down, you’ve not seen me do much of this before.”

Prompto drags a chair over and takes a seat. He doesn’t need telling twice – not now Malcolm's not here any more.

“Thanks for being so cool about this,” Prompto says to Gladio as he watches Eli’s hands moves across his skin.

“Huh?” Gladio says, “What do you mean?”

“For letting me gawk at you - like, I’m sure it’s not what you were expecting.”

Gladio laughs, “You know, with you I don’t mind so much.”

Prompto flushes when Gladio winks at him. Eli snorts.

“You see,” Eli says to him, getting him to focus again, “You angle,” Eli presses the needle to Gladio’s skin differently than normal, “And then you move, almost like you do in a sketchbook but not quite because the idea is to leave some skin behind.”

“I’d certainly prefer it,” Gladio teases

Prompto chokes on a laugh.

Prompto stays with them for the rest of Gladio’s appointment, he’ll still have a couple hours left after he leaves to get everything packed back up.

He automatically grabs the tattoo cream as Eli starts cleaning Gladio up.

“Draw up a few small things for next week, the right size to fit on oranges and you can try out a needle while I work on Gladio’s other arm,” Eli tells him.

Prompto almost drops the tub.

Eli must be shitting him. He thought it would be months before he got to touch real equipment.

“For real?” he checks.

“You’ll have to make do with oranges while we’re open,” Eli explains, smiling, “I’m not having slabs of pig skin in the studio. It grosses people out.”

Prompto would like to avoid pig skin forever actually so he’s fine with that.

“That’s because it is gross,” Prompto points out, grimacing.

“I wondered how you guys practised at first,” Gladio says, “I assumed tattoo artists just have a host of terrible tattoos we can’t see.”

Eli laughs, “Oh we do. My first three on skin are on my own legs. Freckle’s probably will be too.”

“Not - not until I’m ready,” Prompto says quickly, embarrassed by the way his voice cracks.

“You’ll decide,” Eli assures him then gestures at Gladio, “Will you wrap him while I go ring this up? Same time next week Gladio?”

“Sure,” Prompto and Gladio say together.

“I need more cream, too,” Gladio adds, sitting up for Prompto, “Can you add it on? I’m going through a tonne.”

“Oh, I bet,” Eli says. Prompto nods in agreement, it’s a beautiful stretch of canvas, Gladio’s skin, but there’s a lot of it. He gently rubs cream against the sore skin, trying not to irritate it further.

“I’ll sell you a box at discount,” Eli offers. He cracks his back as he stands, audibly popping.

“You don’t need to do that,” Gladio tells Eli.

He is ignored.

Prompto wipes excess cream off against his thigh and reaches for the tape.

Gladio touches his arm, stroking the length of his arm and Prompto face pulls into a smile before he even realises it.

Gladio waits until Eli is busy behind the counter before reaching with his not sore arm to feel down the length of Prompto’s bare bicep.

“You better have my book,” Prompto teases.

“Mhm,” Gladio murmurs, “It’s in my bag.”

Prompto can’t bite back his grin, stomach fluttering as he finishes wrapping Gladio up. Prompto pats Gladio’s hand to let him know he’s finished.

“All done,” Prompto says, “How’s it healing in general? Itching driving you mad?”

Gladio seems to consider for a second, “I thought it’d be worse to be honest, after everything my Dad said. Iggy thinks it would be worse if I wasn’t so good at finding excuses to take my shirt off.”

His grin is that roguish thing again that makes Prompto hot up to his ears.

Prompto giggles, he can’t help it, Gladio makes him feel all gooey.

Something about that triggers a warning in Prompto’s head but it’s easy to ignore when Gladio’s squeezing his arm again and looking at him like that.

Prompto follows Gladio to the counter, absolutely not staring at Gladio’s ass while they walk.

Because that would be unprofessional.

Eli has a box of the magazines on the front desk, sealing it back up.

“You’re done kid,” he tells Prompto, “Get the hell out of here.”

Prompto sputters, “I’m supposed to stay until eight.”

“I know you’re swamped with school stuff and you came in on Wednesday,” Eli reminds him.

Which is fair. But Prompto had felt bad about that shift he’d barely worked half of last week, Eli might not have needed him to make up the time, but Prompto had.

“Go home, get some shit done,” Eli tells him firmly.

Prompto grins at him, laying it on thick, “Aw thanks Eli, you’re the best.”

Eli rolls his eyes, “Uh huh.”

Prompto can tell he’s secretly pleased.

-

Gladio walks him home.

Gladio walks him home and doesn’t once complain when he stops to take a picture or gets distracted mid sentence.

Prompto could get used to Gladio’s arm around his shoulders.

Gladio doesn’t even flinch when he sees where Prompto lives, even though he’s sure Gladio grew up in a mansion and has an apartment like Noct’s.

Prompto turns to him at the end of his drive, presses his palm against Gladio’s chest.

Prompto takes a half step forward.

“I’d invite you in,” Prompto murmurs, looking up under his eyelashes, “But I think it might make me flunk out of college.”

He means it too. If Gladio comes into his apartment he’s done for, the whole day will be wasted.

Not wasted, actually. But he’s not getting and school work done.

“I’m that distracting?” Gladio teases.

“You know you are,” Prompto says, rolling his eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to leave you to it then,” Gladio says, sighing.

He tucks back some of Prompto’s hair, fingers surprisingly gentle against his jaw.

Gladio seems to just hesitate before adding, “But it might be a good idea to give you something to remember me by. Just in case.”

Prompto’s hand grips tighter to Gladio’s tank top.

Holy shit.

Okay.

Prompto can handle this, he’s ready for this.

“Uh huh,” he agrees in a daze.

Prompto pushes up onto his tip toes before he can chicken out, sealing his mouth against Gladio’s.

Gladio cups his jaw a little more firmly, angling his head to kiss him deeper.

Prompto makes a noise, he knows he does. He can’t be embarrassed though, not when Gladio’s body is drawing his own and he’s finally got the chance to tangle his fingers into Gladio’s hair.

Gladio nips at Prompto’s bottom lip and Prompto’s absolutely fucked.

Done for.

Casual.

Right.

Prompto can do casual.

He absolutely can.

If it keeps feeling like this.

Chapter Text

From: Ellen Worth ([email protected])

To: Prompto Argentum ([email protected])

03/10/756 08:04

Hi Prompto,

Any chance you can pop in to see me after your classes today?

I know it’s a long one for you but I’ll still be here until

about 7 if you can make the time. Something has come up

with one of your scholarships and I just want to talk to you

about it and go over your options going forward.

You’re not in any trouble, don’t worry!

Ellen:)

-

“Dude, Iggy’s gonna be on my ass about this essay,” Noctis complains as they stand waiting for a pick up by the front gate.

“Training is important too,” Prompto says, distracted.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You aced the test, dude, don’t worry.”

Prompto looks up at Noct for the first time in a while, takes in the prince’s frown and plasters a smile across his own face.

“Of course,” Prompto says, “Sorry, just got college stuff to worry about.”

“I wish you could come over later,” Noct says, “We’ve earned a break. Maybe tomorrow?”

Prompto’s not going to tell Noct, obviously, but he’s pretty glad Noct is otherwise engaged this evening. He’s not sure how else he would have arranged a meet up with Gladio while keeping it so effortlessly secret.

“I can come over after work, sure thing,” Prompto agrees - Noct makes a face at the mention of work, “Is your thing this evening gonna be awful?”

Noct shrugs, “Pretty much. Gotta wear one of my suits and everything.”

“You poor thing,” Prompto mocks gently. Noct punches his shoulder.

A sleek black car pulls up then and when nobody gets out to greet them Prompto realises it’s not Ignis so there's no one for him to say greet. He bumps the fist Noct raises for him.

“Text you later,” Noct says, walking away. Prompto lifts a hand in a wave.

-

Prompto’s picking coloured wax from beneath his fingernail when his phone vibrates. He’s still got an hour of this class left but their teacher is pretty lax with them. Too many rules stifle the creative process, they say, and Prompto’s already got a pretty good approximation of the fruit bowl on the go. Even if his colours are blending just a little muddy for his liking.

He expects a message from Noct, complaining about being cooped up in the Citadel but it’s not.

[Gladio 14:09] Noct’s in a killer mood so I assume the test was the opposite of fun. How are you?

Prompto considers his options but decides to answer honestly. Besides, he has something he needs to ask.

[Prompto 14:15] could have been worse i guess but not easily. think we passed though which is what matters

[Prompto 14:16] i know we agreed 6 but i have a last minute meeting with my scholarship adviser can we push to 6:30?

[Gladio 14:17] Of course, no worries.

Prompto pops the phone back down and picks out a green pastel. Maybe he can save the highlighting on this apple. After a couple minutes where Prompto makes things better and then worse again his phone goes off again.

[Gladio 14:21] Everything okay?

Prompto’s not told Noctis he’s potentially about to hit money issues and he’s sure as hell not going to Gladio either. He thinks they’d ultimately amount to the same thing anyway.

[Prompto 14:25] yeah!

-

Prompto knocks on Ellen’s door just a few minutes shy of six pm and she calls for him to enter immediately.

“Hi Prompto, come in and take a seat,” she says warmly, flipping through some papers on her desk.

“Hi,” he says nervously, “How are you?”

She beams at him, surprised, Prompto thinks, that he’d thought to ask her.

“I’m well, thank you, Prompto.”

Prompto sits down in the seat across from her desk as she pulls out a folder and opens it up before clicking something on her computer.

“Now,” she says, “I have bad news I’m afraid. You currently get a small bursary from the -” she pauses to look at something in his file, “International Art Cooperation that you currently put towards paying for your accommodation.”

Prompto nods. It was a bursary that he hadn’t even directly applied for, but the university had automatically put him in line for because he was indeed an international art student. It’s really not a lot of money, just exactly enough he doesn’t have to worry about his rent at all.

“But not any more?” Prompto prods.

Ellen gives him a sad little smile, “Unfortunately they’ve decided to withdraw support going forward. All money you’ve already been allocated is yours to keep of course, but next semester you’ll need to arrange something else to cover the remainder.”

Prompto frowns, “Did I do something wrong? I thought I was hitting all my scholarship criteria -”

“No no no,” Ellen rushes to explain, “They’ve withdrawn support from all ten students that receive their assistance. You’ve been doing fine - exemplary even.”

Prompto lets out a relived huff of air.

“Now I looked through all the money you receive financial aid wise and there’s nothing else we can filter towards accommodation because everything else is ear marked for tuition or specific supplies.”

Prompto gets vouchers to help him buy his course books and a cash payment twice a semester to aid in his purchase of art supplies. There’s nothing to stop him from using that to pay his rent when it’s in his pocket but that’ll just mean he’ll be scraping money together for that instead.

“Do I have to pay it all at once?” Prompto asks, wondering how he’ll scrape together such a large sum of money even with the amount of time until it’ll need to be paid.

“No,” she says at once, “We can set up a monthly payment for you and -” she leans towards him and drops her voice even though they’re in an enclosed office “- between you and me if you ever are late with a payment nothing will really happen as long as you pay before the next one is due.” She winks at him.

Prompto chuckles despite himself.

“You already work, yes?” she asks.

“Got a job right away,” Prompto tells her, “I like to eat from time to time.”

She laughs as she writes something on a yellow post-it note and passes it over.

“It’s really not very much money when divided up into monthly instalments,” she explains.

Prompto glances down at the number and feels a little more tension leave him.

It’s manageable. Prompto might have to try and spread out his arcade money a little more and reduce how often he eats out but he’ll manage. Maybe Linc will give him an extra shift a week. Maybe next semester he’ll even have time to work that extra shift without exhausting himself.

“I’m sorry this happened,” Ellen tells him, “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto answers honestly, “Thanks for taking the time to explain what was going on.”

“You’re very welcome, Prompto. Now tell me - how is everything else? You’re settling in okay? Classes going well?”

-

Prompto takes the second bite from his beautifully spiced burger, and settles more comfortably in the booth of this upmarket burger joint. All things considered this is probably the weirdest casual sex he’s ever had.

It’s not that Prompto doesn’t appreciate it, he does. The burger is fantastic - though the price tag might have sent him into a tailspin if Gladio weren’t being so insistent on paying - and Gladio’s company is even better. He’s more attentive than pretty much every boyfriend he’s ever had and it just doesn’t tally up with the way Noct had painted him.

If this is casual Prompto can’t help but wonder what serious Gladio is like - wonder, not hope. Prompto knows what this is, he’s fine with what this is.

His schedule is crazy. It took so long to find time even for this, he can’t imagine having to carve out time to do this a couple times a week.

Casual is fine by him.

He swears.

“You ever have any pets?” Gladio asks, jolting him from his reverie.

“Hmm? Oh - nah, never been allowed one.”

Not a lie. Not even a white lie, really. He really has never been anywhere that would allow pets.

Prompto doesn’t know what Gladio knows about him, maybe as much as Ignis - however much that turns out to be - or maybe nothing at all but Prompto sees no reason to share any of the less than pleasant stuff with him. Certainly not right away.

Maybe once Gladio’s bored of him and they settle into being friends Prompto can think about crossing that bridge, but not yet. He doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“Man, you scream animal person though,” Gladio says thoughtfully.

Prompto presses his palm to his chest and says, “In the depth of my very soul I am.”

Gladio laughs.

Prompto remembers poring over Wilds of Lucis for literal days on end as a child, tucked up against Maria’s side tracing the image of a chocobo over and over. He’d often wondered if they’d ended up in Lucis too, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t remember her last name.

“If art doesn’t work out I’m totally opening up a chocobo ranch,” Prompto jokes - though that doesn’t sound half bad actually. His bus had driven past a sign for one as it travelled from Galdin to Insomnia and he’s had a fancy for visiting ever since.

“Build it by a decent lake and Noct will come for a visit and then never leave,” Gladio assures him.

Prompto scrunches up his face, “Man, I can’t believe Noct fishes.”

“You’re surprised Noct picked a hobby where he gets to sit down and be by himself for hours at a time?”

Prompto snorts, bubbles from his fancy lemonade going up his nose. He chokes and then coughs, cheeks flaming from embarrassment.

Gladio grins, handsome as anything and reaches across the table to press the back of his fingers to Prompto’s cheek.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” Gladio murmurs.

Prompto only grows warmer then, pleased and hot all the way down to his toes. He nudges Gladio’s foot with his own and when the big guys face perks with interest Prompto braves caressing Gladio’s leg with his ankle.

Gladio shakes his head but winks. “Finish your food,” he instructs.

Prompto obediently reaches for a fry.

Not wanting to get completely hot and bothered in public Prompto takes another sip of his soda and asks Gladio, “How’s your sister?”

Gladio tilts his head, considering, “Pretty great to be fair, all recovered from surgery. She's a great kid overall, hit her teens with minimum fuss.”

Prompto nods, like he understand when really he doesn’t. Not many people came into his children’s home before their teens and remained there into them. Only Prompto.

“You got any siblings back home?”

Prompto shakes his head quickly.

Gladio opens his mouth like he wants to ask more then seems to change his mind. Instead he says, “It’s nice to have someone to grow up with, but there’s such an age gap between us we were never gonna be friends, you know.”

“How many years?” Prompto asks, acutely aware that he knows how old Gladio’s sister is but not Gladio himself.

“Eight - though she’s fifteen before I’m twenty three.”

So there’s three years between them, Prompto thinks. Not the biggest gap he’s ever indulged in to be sure.

“You’re a pretty great big brother to have looking out for you though, I bet,” Prompto says.

“Yeah?”

“Dude,” Prompto says flatly, “Have you see you?”

Despite Gladio’s urgency earlier he doesn't request the cheque as soon as their plates are cleans and asks the waitress to bring another round of drinks.

“I don’t believe you don’t have a favourite artist,” Gladio says as she walks away again.

Prompto shrugs, “I just like art. Everything has merit.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and insists, “But there’s no one you like more than anyone else?”

“Not really,” Prompto says honestly. Things might be different, he supposes, had Prompto had an opportunity to experience true art in person but he hasn’t. Maybe over time he’ll find something.

“So you have a favourite author?” Prompto asks.

There’s barely a beat between Prompto’s question and Gladio’s answer, “Edric Branson.”

“You didn’t have to think about that at all.”

Gladio chuckles, “I love everything he’s ever written.”

“What are they like?” Prompto asks, genuinely interested. He’d enjoyed Heavenly Fall and Sweetest Grace much more than he ever thought he would.

“Magical fantasy at the core, but with political sub-plot and, y’know, romance too.”

“So no dicks?” Prompto asks, maybe a touch disappointed.

Gladio chuckles, “Slightly less dicks,” he concedes, “But a higher calibre of smut.”

“Excuse you,” Prompto says in mock offence, “Don’t disrespect Lord Abbingdon like that.”

-

Gladio pulls up outside Prompto’s apartment in one of the parking spaces put aside for residents. One of them is so close to his front door it almost feels like a driveway just for him. It might as well be too as no one ever uses it apart from Ignis when he drops him off. As far as Prompto can tell the whole block is students and, like him, have no hope of affording a car.

Gladio touches his thigh and Prompto immediately flushes again. He feels taught like a bow string even though nothing has happened yet.

Prompto twists in his seat so he’s looking up at Gladio and murmurs, “You wanna come inside?”

Just in case it’s not obvious enough where Prompto wants this to go.

Gladio murmurs his assent but his hand slips further up Prompto’s thigh and he’s leaning down to close the gap and press their mouths together like he can’t wait any longer.

Prompto gets it.

He grabs for Gladio’s arms a little tentatively, aware he was tattooed just a few days ago but Gladio neither flinches or discourages him so Prompto dares to cling a little tighter, levering himself closer into Gladio’s body.

Gladio makes an appreciative noise against his mouth and parts his lips to kiss him deeper and Prompto moans outright at the first brush of his tongue.

It’s so intense so fast Prompto feels like he’s been punched in the gut by his arousal.

Gladio’s hand slips up to his hip, his other hand coming to grab the opposite thigh and Prompto’s suddenly moving, lifted into Gladio’s lap like he weighs nothing in a dizzying display of strength that has his dick going from pretty interested to rock solid in three seconds flat.

Gladio tugs at the short hair at the base of Prompto’s neck and their mouths pop apart. Prompto might have delivered a formal complain had Gladio not simply moved his mouth across Prompto’s jaw - mouth warm and stubble tantalisingly rough - to start working on his neck.

Prompto moans when teeth touch his skin and Gladio rumbles back a happy noise, hands sliding round to palm his thighs and ass. Prompto rocks into him, pressing his dick against Gladio’s hard abs and makes another noise - pleased - when he feels Gladio’s own dick solid against his thigh like it’s answering a call.

It’s one thing to know Gladio wants him on paper but it’s another thing all together to grind down against his hard - huge - dick and get a rumbling groan from his chest. Prompto answers with a breathy noise of his own, shifting his hands up Gladio’s biceps and across his shoulders.

Prompto’s seen Gladio shirtless plenty of times now, even touched his bare chest before but it feels different, better, when he sneaks his fingers beneath the collar of his shirt to get at some of his warm skin.

Gladio’s hand digs into his thighs then - holy shit - and pulls Prompto forwards so they’re pressed impossibly close together.

Prompto pants, grinding down onto Gladio again, knowing he’s acting a bit desperate, shameless even, but feeling just that in this moment.

Why haven’t they gone inside yet? Prompto not saying he won’t let Gladio tear him apart in this car but it’d be easier in his bed.

Gladio squeezes his thigh and Prompto whimpers, reaching for the long part of his hair to tug at it, try and pull Gladio’s attention away from the skin of his neck so they can move inside -

Gladio kisses him instead going in for the kill with no preamble and Prompto whines low, gripping Gladio’s hair tighter and trying to meet him move for move. The hand on his thigh moves then, slipping upwards, edging up beneath Prompto’s light sweater to gently touch the small of his back. Gladio’s hands are a little rough, but amazingly warm and every nerve in Prompto’s body suddenly seems to be located in that patch of skin.

It takes a second for him to recognise the noise as being outside himself and not just a rhythmic buzz inside his own head. Gladio’s phone keeps ringing, persistent and relentless.

“Shit,” Gladio murmurs barely pulling away from him to speak. Gladio moves like he might just go back to kissing Prompto so he digs up every drop of self control and presses both palms to Gladio’s chest to push them apart.

Only a little - he’s not a mad man.

“Might be Noct,” Prompto tells him.

And wouldn't it be just like Noct to cock block him by accident.

Gladio releases his hold on Prompto and grabs for his phone. If it is Noct, Prompto knows, Gladio will have to leave, but maybe it’s not Noct and they can get back to it.

“It’s my sister,” Gladio says.

Prompto clambers off of Gladio as he pulls the phone to his ear. He’s pretty sure that’s put paid to making out in the car, at least for now. As he settles into the passenger seat he reaches to adjust his dick more comfortably in his jeans. It’s probably not going to go anywhere on it’s own for a while.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Gladio asks his sister and Prompto glances up at him, concerned by the frown he see there. Gladio listen for a moment, frown deepening, and then he’s shh-ing and soothing his little sister.

“I’ll come home and we’ll take him to the doctor okay,” Gladio tells her, and the last bit of hope Prompto had that Gladio might still take him inside evaporates. He wishes he could say the same about his hard on. To convince his body of it’s sad, lonely future he tugs at the edge of his sweater, pulling it back into place and reaches for his backpack where he’d wedged it securely in the foot well

“Less than fifteen minutes, alright?” Gladio says into the phone.

Gladio turns to him as soon as he’s hung up the phone, “Sorry. Jared fell down,” Gladio tells him. Prompto doesn’t know who Jared is but he can see the actual concern on Gladio’s face alongside the disappointment Prompto knows he’s echoing.

“He’s not young so, it’s best to get him looked at,” Gladio further explains.

“It’s cool, don’t apologise.” Prompto assures him, “I hope he’s okay.”

Gladio gives him a smile and a hot look that makes Prompto’s cock attempt to jerk a hole in his jeans.

“Rain check?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods, opening the door of the car so he can get some air before he does something stupid.

“Text me,” Prompto tells him getting out of the car quickly. He slams the door closed behind him and almost sprints to his front door.

He fumbles with the lock - of course he does - and starts to unbutton his jeans even as he’s kicking it closed behind him. Prompto struggles them off, pushing them and his boxers down together so his dick can breath, hanging heavy and hot between his thighs. He hurriedly kicks out of his shoes and strips his sweater off too.

Prompto could settle on his bed and make a real thing out of this but it’s much easier to start up his shower - plus some scented lube and a plastic toy aren’t going to make up for missing out on what he now knows is hidden in Gladio’s pants.

The waters not really hot when he gives up waiting and climbs in but it doesn’t lessen his arousal at all. Prompto takes hold of himself at once, managing to stroke himself to a blistering release so quickly there’s still enough time for him to enjoy a hot shower before the water runs out.

- - -

“How was your thing last night?” Prompto asks Noct, popping his last fry in his mouth.

He’d bought lunch with him, serious about cutting down on how much he spends on food but Noct had fries waiting for him when he joined him at the bench. Their bench, Prompto likes to think, because somehow it’s always ready for them.

Prompto’s probably just never witnessed Crownsguard shooing kids away from it. Which doesn’t feel so good. But then - they’re not always here, right? He’s literally never caught sight of them after that first time.

“Was okay,” Noct admits, “I mean they went well but that’s boring politics stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

“Try me - I mean if you wanna talk about it.”

Noct shrugs, “We’re not buying coal from Niflheim after next year because we like the environment and Lucis is probably uniting with Tenebrae in a, like, official way in the next maybe five years.”

Noct blushes then - nothing like Prompto’s blush, obviously, just a faint pink dusting across his cheeks, but it exists.

“Oh yeah?”

Noct rolls his eyes, “Shut up.”

Prompto chuckles, “The coal thing is cool though.”

“Yeah, the council didn’t get it at first so I’m glad they listened to me,” Noct adds before seeming to realise what he’d said and closing his mouth with an almost audible snap.

Prompto would tease him for caring but he gets the feeling Noct’s already on the edge of a social meltdown so lets it pass.

Noct reaches across the table to dip a fry in Prompto’s left over ketchup - jokes on him though because Prompto mixed a hot sauce packet into when they first sat down.

Noct winces and fails to suppress a cough before swiping the last of Prompto’s lemonade to cool his mouth.

[Gladio 13:41] Jared’s fine, just a bruised hip but nothing he won’t get over with a couple days rest. . Thanks for asking.

[Prompto 13:42] i’m glad. Shame you had to leave yesterday

Jared is the Amicitia housekeeper he's since learnt. But not just a housekeeper, an honorary member of the family too.

“Warn a guy?” Noct says, voice still a little rough.

“Maybe you should ask first,” Prompto teases, not looking up while he waits for Gladio’s response.

[Gladio 13:43] I know, I’m gutted. Barely had time to get my hands on you at all.

[Prompto 13:44] soon

“Who are you talking to?” Noct asks suddenly, something odd in his voice.

“Huh?” Prompto looks up surprised and presses the lock button on his screen.

“You’re texting someone else -” Noct cuts himself, blush deepening to an almost legitimate red.

“Well, yeah,” Prompto says, not understanding.

“I just - I didn’t know you hung around with anyone else,” Noct mutters. He chews his next fry almost angrily and Prompto stares at him for a moment trying to work out what's wrong.

“Oh,” he says. Affection swells painfully in his chest, alongside a weird streak of pride that Noct seems to be jealous of the other friends he thinks Prompto has.

“Dude, you don’t want these texts from me,” Prompto tries to explain while being as vague as possible.

The explanation of I wanna split myself in half on your Shield’s dick is not a thing he’s willing to say.

Noct frowns at him, utterly confused, head tilted and everything. Prompto’s just wondering how he can make it more clear without spilling all the beans when Noct suddenly says -

“Oh. Oh,” Noct swats at his shoulder, “Yeah. Don’t send me pictures of your dick, please and thank you.”

“Dude, I’d never.”

He would actually. Probably. If he was really in the mood and to the right person.

Definitely not to Noct, though.

- - -

[Noct 19:21] you never told me who it was

[Prompto 19:22] who what was?

[Noct 19:22] dick pic guy

[Prompto 19:23] there have been no dick pics

[Noct 19:24] (￣ー￣;)ゞ

[Noct 19:24] okay. no pic dick guy. who is he?

[Prompto 19:25] why does it matter?

[Noct 19:26] its my obligation as your bestfriend to make sure theyre not a creep

[Prompto 19:27] they’re not a creep. promise

[Noct 19:28] so just tell me who they are

[Noct 19:28] i dont want you to get hurt. maybe i know something about them you dont

[Prompto 19:29] i’m not going to get hurt. don’t worry about this. i know what i’m doing

[Noct 19:30] i feel like you’ve probably said that before and then gotten hurt anyway

[Prompto 19:31] its not nice to call your best friend out like that

[Noct 19:32] prom

[Prompto 19:33] noct

[Noct 19:34] ╮(╯_╰)╭

[Noct 19:34] you’ll let me know if anything changes

[Prompto 19:35] you’re the only one i would tell

-

Prompto really should be working on the main project for his graphic design midterm but he’s just not. He’s kind of doing graphic design - except he’s not at all - but he absolutely cannot submit a complete graphic novel of Sweetest Grace for his midterm so he just needs to stop. It’d probably be some sort of legal issue, not even to mention that the brief is to do a redesign for a business and not perfect his ability to draw intertwined bodies.

He’d thought of doing Insomnia Ink but it’s so cool already it felt like blasphemy to try and change it. Sakana however, has had the same logo through three different owners and it needs some serious work. Prompto just won’t tell Linc about it.

Prompto does know someone that might enjoy his efforts though.

[Prompto 22:31] [Image SG_1.jpg]

[Prompto 22:31] can’t concentrate on my graphic design project but i can graphic-novelise big chunks of sweetest grace apparently

Prompto hadn’t realised just how late it was until the little time stamp on his phone blinks up at him. He stands and heads over to his little kitchen area to boil his kettle for a caffeine shot as he types out another message.

[Prompto 22:32] help me i’m gonna flunk because i stole a smutty book from you

It might be too late for a reply he realises, but it’s no matter. He can totally get on with his work now, bury his fun sketchbook somewhere out of sight and -

[Gladio 22:34] Holy shit, you’re amazing. That is something I would totally pay good money for.

Prompto feels a low flutter of excitement quickly chased by a stronger swoop when his phone vibrates again.

[Gladio 22:35] What’s your schedule like tomorrow?

Prompto’s never hated his schedule more. Midterms can suck his dick.

[Prompto 22:36] classes until 4 work at 5 ( ￣＾￣)

[Gladio 22:38] Wanna grab a coffee in between? Food maybe?

It takes him thirty minutes to get over to work from campus but if Gladio’s got his car and doesn’t mind driving him it maybe would be okay.

But why?

Why does Gladio want to see him tomorrow? What's so urgent? Has he changed his mind? Is he calling this - whatever it is - off?

Prompto's excitement twists into nervousness in half a second flat.

[Prompto 22:39] gonna cash in on that free sushi but caffeine will be super appreciated

Particularly if he’s going to be up as late tonight as he thinks he will. He doesn’t need to finish tonight but the more he can get done before passing out the better. He doesn’t have as many essays to write as Noct, but he has a thing for his Solheim class. And these art projects are kicking his ass. Creating to a brief is still and adjustment, even after a few months.

[Gladio 22:41] I’ll meet you in the front car park.

[Gladio 22:42] Now either go to sleep or get started reading Heavenly Fall, I’m waiting for your rants, Freckles.

Prompto wishes he could obey but instead he pours hot water onto instant ground ready for the rest of his night.

[Prompto 22:43] night big guy <3

- - -

Prompto’s last lecture runs over by a few minutes so it’s almost ten past four by the time he makes it across campus to where Gladio’s waiting for him.

“There you are,” Gladio greets him warmly and it eases some of the unease he's been dragging around all day. During his extremely brief coffee break this morning Noct had asked him three times if he was absolutely definitely okay.

Luckily he can blame his preoccupation on school stress without lying.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” Prompto apologises but Gladio just waves him away, diverting his hand to squeeze his thigh. His other hand retrieves a coffee from his cup holder and hands it off.

“I realise it’s kinda cold and maybe you wanted a hot coffee,” Gladio says, adding thoughtfully, “I should have asked what you wanted.”

“I only switch to hot coffee for Pumpkin Spice season,” Prompto jokes, “Yes, I’m basic. No, I don’t care.”

Gladio laughs, glancing out the window as Prompto takes a drink.

Suddenly Prompto feels nervous again, worried about what’s to come.

He rattles his cup nervously and says, “Thanks for this - and saving me from the impromptu run. I gotta try and get this shift changed.”

“Any time,” Gladio says, turning back to smile at him. His eyes are warm and Prompto gets lost in them for just a minute.

“Did you, um, did you need something?” Prompto makes himself ask and managing not to properly stutter. Thank the Astrals.

Gladio sighs, “It’s just that I was with Noct the other day -”

“I haven’t told him,” Prompto interrupts, if Noct knows then he found out without Prompto’s assistance. He rushes to explain, “He’s being a pest but I didn’t want to make things awkward or anything.”

“It’s not that,” Gladio says earnestly. Prompto bites down on his bottom lip, trying not to worry about what’s about to happen, “I just realised we never talked about what we were doing.”

Prompto tries not to make his relief obvious, busying himself with his straw again as Gladio glances at the clock and starts the car. He reverses out of his space and navigates the student car park.

“I’m not looking for a proposal,” Prompto says eventually once they’re on the main road.

Gladio laughs, deep and rough, like he’s surprised by it. When he sobers he says, “I just wasn’t sure if you thought -”

“We’re just having fun,” Prompto interrupts again, “I know you have obligations. I’m not dumb.”

Gladio’s never said it explicitly of course, but Prompto has the information from Noct. And - burger withstanding - Gladio’s not been acting like someone that wants to take him home to meet his parents.

“I don’t think you are,” Gladio says sincerely, “Noct just said -”

“Noct is choosing to not understand what I’m telling him, don’t worry about it. In don’t even have time for that shit honestly -” Prompto tells him and it’s true. He doesn’t have time for a proper boyfriend even if he wishes he did. Prompto loves his little apartment but he’d like it even more if sometimes he could curl up in his bed against another body.

“A bit of casual stress relief is right up my alley,” Prompto tries to convince Gladio. And perhaps himself.

“Good,” Gladio breathes, reaching for Prompto’s thigh again, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Prompto’s slightly surprised to discover they’ve reached Sakana already.

He's wound up tight from how stressed he’s been over the last few weeks so throwing caution to the wind he says, “Speaking of fun, speaking of de-stressing; I’ve already had the week from hell and I get off at ten.”

Fuck all the work he still has to do, if he doesn’t get something soon he’s liable to explode.

Gladio perks up, little lopsided grin reaching his mouth.

“That’s awful late,” Gladio says slowly and Prompto deflates slightly, devastated that his ploy failed -

“It’d be safer if someone drove you home,” Gladio adds thoughtfully.

Prompto smiles and just to make sure says, “I might need seeing all the way inside too, just to be on the safe side.”

“Oh of course,” Gladio replies, mock seriousness out of place on his face, “I never leave a job half done.”

Prompto levers himself out of his seat quickly to press his mouth against Gladio, aiming for quick and teasing but getting caught by one of Gladio’s big hands and held in place to have his mouth properly plundered.

When he’d finally released Prompto sucks in a shaky and necessary breath to sigh, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Gladio says, giving him one last peck and a scorching look.

Prompto’s filled with a buzzing excitement for his entire five hour shift. It must do something to his face, or they way he talks, because Erinn keeps smirking at him and he makes amazing tips off the few people that eat inside. What he feels is hot and tense, wound up tight while the time ticks slowly onwards.

“So what are they like?” Erinn asks, elbowing him in the ribs while he’s trying to cash out one of the tills.

Prompto opens his mouth then closes it again. “I don’t know what you mean,” he tries.

Erinn giggles, “You’re a terrible liar.”

“What I am is done,” he says, stuffing the last of the cash into the tray and locking it up, “Linc is still here yeah?”

“In his office,” Erinn says, “Don’t worry I’m not here alone.”

“Just don’t like the idea of you doing the ‘drunk shift’ by yourself,” Prompto tells her.

“You’re literally too sweet,” she complains, shooing him out from behind the counter.

“Bye Erinn!” he calls to her on his way back from the staff room with his backpack on one shoulder.

Gladio’s waiting for him, parked up against the road where he’d dropped Prompto off earlier.

“Hi,” Prompto says oddly breathless as he climbs inside.

Gladio leans over to kiss his cheek before starting the car and asks, “How was work?”

Gladio smells so good - fresh soap and the rich scent of his aftershave - Prompto’s immediately a bit self conscious. He’s been up since seven and sure, he’d had a shower this morning, but he probably smells like sushi and paint.

“Long,” Prompto says eyeing Gladio greedily, incredible arms exposed by his tank top.

“My evening too,” Gladio admits, “Had to go to the gym to distract myself.”

“You better not have tired yourself out,” Prompto complains.

“Not even a little,” Gladio promises.

“Good, ‘cause I’ve got plans,” Prompto says.

“Share with the class?”

Prompto giggles and chews on his lip, “Prefer to show you.”

Prompto has too many plans really, more than can be accomplished in a single night but mostly he just wants to tear off Gladio’s sweatpants and get at the amazing cock he knows is in there.

Hands, mouth, ass; he doesn’t really care. Just something.

“Tease,” Gladio says fondly.

The roads are pretty empty this time of night and Prompto’s home in a quarter of the time it would have taken him normally. He scrambles out of the car as soon as Gladio’s killed the engine, not wanting to get distracted again.

Gladio comes up behind him while he’s still getting his lock undone and presses straight up against his back, hands on his hips and mouth finding a home on the back of the neck.

Of course his lock chooses that moment to stick and Gladio chuckles against his neck when he lets out a frustrated groan. Gladio’s hands slip up under his sweater and t-shirt to stroke his ship bones.

Prompto shivers.

His door pops open and he shuffles forward slowly, waiting for Gladio to release him before rushing in and immediately toeing off his boots.

The silence is kind of startling and makes Prompto feel unnecessarily anxious so he mumbles, “Bathroom is there,” pointing at the only door and offering, “I’ll stick a movie on.”

He gets the TV on and picks the first thing that Moogleflix offers up. As he waits for it to load Prompto yanks his sweater off over his head, leaving his t-shirt behind and twists toward Gladio and going up on his tiptoes so he can get his arms around his mouth attached to Gladio’s.

Gladio makes a vaguely surprised noise that turns into a hum of appreciation as his own hands come back down to Prompto’s hips.

Prompto kisses him deeply, not caring about seeming as needy as he feels and takes a step back towards his couch. Gladio follows, hands slipping under his clothes again and sweeping much further up his back than before.

Gladio pulls his mouth free - Prompto maybe whines but he covers it up by kissing his way across the masculine edge of Gladio’s jaw - and glances behind Prompto. He slides his hands out from Prompto’s clothes and abruptly grasps Prompto’s thighs, lifting him from the ground. Prompto gasps, biting Gladio’s neck gently, wrapping his legs around Gladio’s waist and using his grip on Gladio’s shoulders to lever himself up enough to seal their mouths back together.

Gladio kisses him back, holding Prompto securely as he lowers them onto the coach, Prompto on his back with Gladio’s weight enticingly above him. He’s pleased to feel that Gladio’s as hard as he is, pressing insistently into the bony part of Prompto’s hip.

Gladio rucks up his t-shirt almost at once, pushing it out of the way so his hands can get at Prompto’s skin. Prompto returns the favour, sneaking his own fingers under Gladio’s tank top to feel the hard edge of the abs he’s spent weeks thinking about.

Gladio’s fingers brushes against Prompto’s nipple and Prompto feels his cock twitch uncomfortably in his jeans, patience reaching its breaking point. He tugs on Gladio’s sweatpants, letting Gladio know what he’s after.

Gladio groans, mumbling a low, fervent “Shit,” before sitting back just enough to ease the band of his sweatpants away from his dick.

It slaps down onto Prompto’s heaving stomach with an audible noise that makes Prompto feel desperate, reaching for it at once and feeling the hot - huge - weight of it against his palm. He strokes Gladio once and the Shield drops back down onto his arms and pressing his mouth to Gladio’s throat as Prompto starts to work him in earnest. He teases beneath the head and Gladio groans, his next pass over the head comes away slick.

Those vague plans from earlier vanish into one solid thought: Prompto wants that in his mouth. Now.

“Fuck,” Prompto mutters, whining, “Fuck, fuck.”

He presses against Gladio’s chest, and he moves back after a second so he’s kneeling between Prompto’s spread thighs looking more like a bronzed statue of a god than any human being has any right too.

Gladio strokes some hair off Prompto’s face and trails a feather light touch across his throat. That shouldn’t make Prompto ache in his pants but it does.

“You okay?” Gladio asks, all obvious concern and clearly taking Prompto’s gesture to mean he wants to slow down and not just a need to get a better angle at his dick.

Prompto nods rapid fast and digs his teeth into his lip.

Gladio wants him, he tells himself as he feels shyness try to creep in. Prompto has the weight of that want hard and pulsing in his hand.

“Will you - can you lie back? I want -” Prompto cuts off, frustrated at himself for stuttering through it and not managing to be the confident being he wishes he could be.

“Anything you want,” Gladio says quickly. He moves to follow orders and Prompto slides out of the way, standing at the edge of the couch hard and wanting but not willing to risk giving himself any relief.

Gladio reaches for him but Prompto steps away from his hands, clambering up onto the couch between Gladio’s spread thighs and pulling his sweatpants roughly out of the way.

It’s a cramped space but Prompto’s short and he’s worked in worse conditions. He strips off his own t-shirt though, so he doesn’t get too hot and starts to run his palms against Gladio’s toned thighs. Prompto had always thought his thighs were muscular but they’ve got nothing on Gladio. He wonders how many ways there are for Gladio to just wreck him.

He giggles, “I knew, I fucking knew it would be this great.”

“You talking about my dick?” Gladio teases, taking a hold of it and stroking from the base to the very tip. Prompto watches it intensely, mouth watering, and almost misses the second question. “Or just this in general?”

“Both,” Prompto says immediately. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer but it feels important for him to ask anyway, “Please tell me I can put that in my mouth. Please.”

“Fuck yes, Freckles, do whatever you want.”

Gladio grunts, squeezing his dick one last time before getting his hands out of the way.

Prompto ducks down, dragging his tongue from base to tip with no preamble. Gladio hisses and, encouraged, Prompto moves up to suckle at the tip, getting a taste of the dampness he'd felt there earlier as a reward.

Gladio twines his fingers into Prompto’s hair, gently and then more securely when Prompto moans his encouragement around the steel flesh in his mouth.

“Shit,” Gladio says roughly as Prompto starts to sink down, taking him more fully into his mouth. Gladio’s huge, obviously, the biggest Prompto’s ever had but he’s always been good at this, always liked doing this.

He likes the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw and the burn when he edges them to the back of his throat. He even like the smell and the taste, loves to push himself to his limits and get them so deep in his mouth - his throat - that he’s nosing at their skin again when they come.

Prompto nudges Gladio’s girth towards his throat, swallowing reflexively and distracting both him and Gladio from the way he almost chokes by twisting his tongue around his length before he realises he needs to surface for some air.

Prompto pants, chest heaving as he stares at Gladio’s glistening, red tipped length and his clenching abdomen.

Gladio cups Prompto's jaw, thumb tracing around his lips and Prompto feels a surge in his gut, not dissimilar to arousal but markedly different somehow. Prompto nips at the digit then turns his face into that big hand, nuzzling nose and lips against it while he finishes steadying his breath.

He ducks back down, presses an almost reverent kiss against Gladio's thigh and then licks the entire length of him again. He takes it slow, sliding Gladio fractionally deeper with every pass. He can’t get Gladio all the way down though - yet he tells himself - and that disappoints him until Gladio grunts lightly, hips jerking.

Prompto puts his hands on Gladio’s thighs so he can’t get caught off guard by his movements. He knows he can’t actually keep Gladio still, if Gladio didn’t want to stay still but he feels Gladio’s thighs tense beneath his fingers and feels a delicious surge of power that a guy as big and strong as Gladio is bending to his will.

“Fuck,” Gladio groans, fingers sharp in Prompto’s hair as his releases a spurt of pre-come right onto Prompto’s tongue. Prompto moans at the taste and presses down, taking Gladio the deepest yet and relishing in the intense burn at the back of his throat.

Gladio’s cock attempts to twitch in his mouth and Prompto’s own dick gives a needy throb, probably making a mess of the front of his jeans.

“Gonna come soon,” Gladio roughs out giving Prompto’s hair a gentle tug.

Definitely not, he thinks, only if Gladio tells him to get off dick is Prompto giving up the chance to swallow everything down.

Gladio tugs again, but the other way, so Prompto’s got him pressed deep again. He digs his fingers tight into Gladio’s thighs to ground himself and moans around Gladio, hoping the extra sensation helps push him over.

“You’d like that, huh?” Gladio says, voice rough.

Prompto’s stares up at him, meeting Gladio’s eyes, needy and seemingly darker than normal. His brow is tense, but not in a negative way, just the obvious effort he’s exerting to hold himself back. Prompto whines, unwilling to let Gladio out of his mouth and legitimately almost comes in his pants when Gladio says, “Want me to fill you up?”

The noise he makes is new to his own ears and Prompto struggles to regain his rhythm, so distracted by the suggestion of a future filled with dirty talk, he tries to give the rhythm up to Gladio by tugging on his hips and encouraging him to move.

Gladio puts both hands onto Prompto’s head, cradling him carefully in place as his hips shift and thrust, dragging himself in and out of Prompto’s mouth less deeply than Prompto was expecting.

A short yell precedes the flood of Gladio’s release and Prompto swallows at the first taste, catching it all and not letting a single drop go to waste.

Gladio’s hands turn soft against his head, fingers stroking and pulling through his hair and when Gladio starts to soften Prompto pulls free, licking up any residual stickiness as the Shield heaves deep breaths above him. Prompto’s both exhausted and wound tight enough to explode, and he presses his forehead into Gladio’s hip as he attempts to breath through his need.

Prompto shifts restlessly. He just can’t help it.

“You, better take your pants off and get the fuck up here,” Gladio all but growls and Prompto almost breaks his leg rushing to comply.

He comes embarrassingly fast, naked and writhing on Gladio’s lap with a strong hand working his dick like a professional.

Prompto makes a lot of noise, he knows that, he always has and has always been embarrassed by it but he can’t help it. The noises just bubble out of his throat with every pass of Gladio’s hand.

Prompto takes a little longer to catch his breath than Gladio did but Gladio lets him stay there, all but collapsed against his broad chest with one of his hands cradling his waist, petting him softly. He spots little indentations on Gladio’s shoulders as he straightens up - oops - and Prompto presses a kiss against them as he gets shakily to his feet.

He all but stumbles into the bathroom and runs the tap so it’ll get warm, digging a fresh flannel from his little caddy and wetting it. Prompto’s mostly clean, his spend had spattered delightfully against Gladio’s abs but he gives himself a perfunctory wipe down and rinses the cloth. His pyjamas are still where he’d kicked them off for his shower that morning so he grabs the bottoms and slides into them.

The cloth is almost burning hot when he picks it up but cools rapidly to sensibly warm as crosses back the couch where Gladio is still reclined. He wipes up the mess himself, taking the opportunity to get even more familiar with Gladio’s abs.

When there’s no more excuse to touch him Prompto forces himself to offer, “You want a shower or anything before you go?”

Not that he doesn’t want Gladio to use his shower, though it’s probably barely big enough for him, but because Gladio’s warm and resting against his chest had been incredibly comfortable. Prompto could probably fall asleep against it in seconds.

Gladio clears his throat and arches his hips in a really distracting way to tug his sweatpants back over his hips.

“I’m good,” he says.

Prompto smiles as wide as he can, satisfaction tinged slightly with disappointment and trying not to focus on it. He ducks to kiss Gladio briefly and grabs Gladio’s tank top from the floor.

“I’d offer you a hoody to wear home ‘cause its gotten cold but you’d need to give me the time to sew two together for you,” Prompto teases, grinning for real now.

Gladio smiles back and sits up. He grabs for Prompto’s wrist, hand firm above Prompto’s wristband, and tugs him to be standing between his legs. He pulls Prompto in for another kiss - a better one, all wet and probing that steals the breath right out of Prompto’s lungs.

“Text me,” Gladio begs against his mouth, “Let me know when you’re free again?”

“Absolutely,” Prompto promises breathlessly.

Prompto kisses him again and then Gladio’s up, pulling his top back on and letting himself out.

Prompto turns off his TV and all the lights, climbing in to bed, feeling satisfied enough that he manages to drift off to sleep without dwelling on the abrupt feeling of loneliness that swells unexpectedly inside of him.

- - -

“I don’t know why you didn’t sleep better yesterday,” Noct laughs while he nudges him towards an outdoor table, “You’ve got no more exams left. Should have slept like a baby.”

“I stayed up -” he yawns “- to read.”

Noct scrunches his face like he’s never heard of such a thing.

“I’ll get us coffee,” Noct says, shoving Prompto’s shoulders gently so he plops down into the seat behind him.

[Gladio 12:32] You surviving?

[Prompto 12:35] i made it to lunch but noct might have to inject my frappe straight into my veins

Prompto raises his phone and switches onto his front camera, angling it so he can see Noct queueing for the coffee cart over his shoulder. Prompto looks exhausted and he normally wouldn’t send a picture so poorly put together but it certainly helps get his point across.

Also Noct seems to have snacks too, so he’s got that going for him at least.

[Gladio 12:38] You’re still fucking cute. If that helps.

It does help and Prompto squirms a little in his chair as he starts to type his reply.

“Is that - are you texting Gladio?”

Prompto jumps, fumbling with his phone and almost dropping it to the floor.

“What?”

“Prom,” Noctis says seriously, “Is the guy you’re seeing - is it Gladio?”

Prompto tries to speak, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before giving up and just half shrugging, feeling helpless.

It’s one thing to lie by omission, just not tell Noct what’s going on but he can’t actually lie to his face, he won’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto blurts.

Noct’s face flips from mild anger to utter confusion in half a second.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you’re mad,” Prompto blurts, “I know that I’m not good enough but we’re not -”

“Shut up,” Noct seethes.

Prompto snaps his mouth closed again.

“Noct,” he says softly.

“What did he say to you?” Noct growls.

“What?”

“What did Gladio tell you to make you think that?” Noctis reiterates but Prompto still doesn’t understand.

“Think what - Noct -”

“This has nothing to do with you, Prom,” Noct says, “You’re good enough for anyone. That’s not why I’m upset - I’m not upset.”

The sentence is, quite frankly, a lot of information to take in and process.

“You seem upset,” Prompto says, feeling dumb.

That pulls Noct up short and he takes a deep breath. Slowly he puts the drinks down on the table beside the paper bag he’s carrying and takes a seat.

“I’m not upset with you,” Noct says.

“Don’t be made at Gladio either,” Prompto tells him.

“He’s gonna hurt you,” Noct says.

Prompto rolls his eyes, “He’s not.”

“He’s made you think you’re not good enough,” Noct says.

“Uh - no. That’s just, y’know, logic.”

Noctis glares at him.

“I’m just - nothing. Like, I don’t even get why you’re friends with me so of course I’m not good enough for Gladio but -”

“Astrals, shut up,” Noct says, “Don’t say that shit in front of me. We’re friends because we want to be. That’s all that matters. Gladio’s not good enough for you, if anything.”

Prompto snorts.

“I mean it,” Noct says.

“Think about where I was born, Noct,” Prompto says quietly.

“What does that matter?”

Prompto blinks.

“If that’s - then why are you mad?” Prompto stumbles.

“Gladio can’t - won’t - give you what you want,” Noct mutters.

“This is what I want,” Prompto says feeling heated, “I already told you that. We’ve been through this.”

Noct huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Can you stop trying to tell me how I feel for maybe one second,” Prompto snaps.

Noct physically leans back from him, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Prompto says, looking around him for the Crownsguard he expects to see storm out of the shadows and take him away.

“Don’t be,” Noct says, “You’re right.”

“Shouldn’t have snapped,” Prompto mumbles.

Noct shrugs dismissively.

“I’m not gonna be okay with this,” Noct admits, “But I can - can look past it as long as you’re happy.”

“Thanks,” Prompto breathes.

Noct smiles, his shy little half grin and reaches for the paper bag.

“I got you a chocolate croissant,” Noct says, “And an extra shot in your coffee.”

“You know me so well,” Prompto coos, knocking their shoulders together.

He hesitates, bite of croissant in his mouth, before pulling up his phone to check his messages from Gladio. Noct doesn't outwardly react to the move to Prompto supposes he really meant what he said.

He’d sent no less than three nonsense messages with his fumbling and he quickly messages back. Trying to ignore the odd thump of his heart when he sees the short form of his name.

[Gladio 12:39] ??

[Gladio 12:47] Prom? You okay?

[Freckles 12:55] yeah! sorry, goofed with my phone

[Freckles 12:55] that *does* help thank you very much

[Freckles 12:56] gotta run to class. cya tonight <3 x

He doesn’t actually have class for another half an hour but he’s not sure he can talk to Gladio more without spilling just what happened. He’s not sure if he should tell him, even if he wanted to, because maybe Noct won’t say anything to Gladio and this entire drama can just get swept under the rug.

Prompto hates arguments, even when he’s not part of them.

- - -

[Prompto 13:31] sorry about noct yesterday

Despite all of his wants and best efforts Noct had in fact talked to Gladio about what was going on. Though talked is probably much too nice a word to describe what happened. Prompto’s mostly just glad he wasn’t there for the actual talk.

The pizza was particularly excellent though. Even if he does have a stomach ache today.

[Gladio 13:34] It’s not your fault he’s a nosey shit.

[Prompto 13:35] still. i’m sorry he was mean to you about it. i tried to tell him

[Gladio 13:38] He’s just worried about you.

[Gladio 13:38] Maybe he should be.

[Gladio 13:39] I have a pretty terrible reputation. Maybe you deserve better.

[Prompto 13:40] nah. i’m good.

Prompto doesn’t care about that. He knows what this is and he’s kind of sick of talking about it. This thing might blow up in his face but he’s going to have a hell of a good time getting there.

[Gladio 13:41] Balls in your court. Let me know what you want and when you want it.

[Prompto 13:42] your dick, like a month ago

[Prompto 13:43] alas i am but a poor student with a schedule from hell and am not free until after our group friend date on tuesday

[Gladio 13:45] Huh. You know. I think I might be driving to your part of town after that. How convenient.

[Gladio 13:46] P.S. Please tell me Noct knows you call them friend dates?

[Prompto 13:47] that IS convenient

[Prompto 13:48] dude, it was nocts idea. you have my express permission to tease him about it

[Gladio 13:50] Oh Freckles, you are the gift that keeps on giving.

- - -

Eli had told him to buy the biggest oranges he could find so Prompto had detoured to one of the fancy stores in the more boujie part of town on his way in that morning and spent an alarming amount of money on food that he’s not even going to eat. Prompto’s taken through the gun mechanisms again and then Eli hands him a small wad of stencils that he’d made up from drawings in Prompto’s sketchbook and told him to get on with it.

The first one goes badly, all his lines are miles out from where they’re supposed to be and it’s almost unrecognisable from the original stencil. Eli simply looks at when he’s done and nods.

“On to the next one,” Eli tells him.

He’s on his third when Eli wanders over with coffee.

“That’s my job,” Prompto complains half-heartedly.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Eli says.

Prompto holds up his orange, half a misshapen flower blooming to life on the bright skin, “Should it be this hard?”

“Absolutely,” Eli says.

For some reason the place Prompto puts the needle isn’t quite the place that the ink appears. He’s tried changing the angle but it caught the flesh in way he’s pretty sure humans don’t want on their actual skin.

“So,” Eli says, so purposefully casual its sets Prompto on edge, “How are things going with Gladio?”

Prompto glances at him without lifting his head from his slightly hunched position.

“Nothings going on with Gladio,” Prompto says.

Eli kicks his chair, “I’ll believe that on the 32nd day of never.”

Prompto laughs.

“I promise, there’s nothing to tell,” he says firmly.

Because, assumedly, Eli doesn’t want to hear about how much Prompto like the feel of Gladio’s dick in his mouth.

Eli sighs, “You two are idiots.”

-

[Noct 20:04] so i just had an interesting conversation with iggy

[Prompto 20:07] do tell

[Noct 20:08] it started when he said: noct, why havent you told me the plan for promptos birthday yet

[Noct 20:09] and ended when i said: because the little shit never told me it was his birthday

[Prompto 20:10] noct. buddy. pal. that story is not as interesting as you think it is

[Noct 20:11] dude, come on. its your birthday on tuesday and you didnt tell me

[Prompto 20:12] it doesn’t really matter. i kind of forgot.

[Prompto 20:13] its so weird that iggy knows when i didn’t tell him either

[Noct 20:13] dude. im sorry

[Prompto 20:14] i’m not mad, its just weird

[Noct 20:14] birthday plans?

[Prompto 20:15] weren’t we all getting food at yours anyway? no need to change anything, thats good for me.

[Noct 20:15] dude. gross. lets do something fun

[Noct 20:16] what model camera do you have?

[Prompto 20:17] hanging out with you guys IS fun

[Prompto 20:18] a lokton lx-30. why?

[Noct 20:19] lets go to the arcade after class? just us? act like we’re high schoolers with nothing to worry about but getting a high score

[Prompto 20:19] that does sound pretty great. alright i’m in

[Noct 20:20] oh hey, thats a lucian camera. figured it’d be niflheim made?

[Prompto 20:21] your cameras are better. took me a year to save up for it. totally worth it.

[Prompto 20:22] was the only thing i didn’t have to buy a new charger for when i docked

- - -

Noct hands him a box that’s clearly Ignis wrapped but the untidy scrawl on the tag shows that Noct at least did that part himself. The paper is matte silver with a dark blue ribbon and Prompto is, as ever, impressed by Ignis’ taste.

“You shouldn’t have,” Prompto says, “But thank you.”

He tries to remember the last real birthday present he’d gotten and comes up short.

Noct shrugs, “It’s your birthday.”

They sit together on their normal bench, coffees cooling beside them - it’s overcast and miserable this morning and he and Noct had silently agreed it was time to switch over - so Prompto can tear into the paper.

Inside the box is another wrapped package and a box.

“Holy shit,” Prompto says, pulling it out and turning it over to examine the exact contents.

“They fit your camera right?” Noct checks, “And I didn’t think you had anything like it.”

“I don’t,” Prompto murmurs, “And they fit - thank you so much, Noct. This must have been so expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Noct tells him.

But Prompto will undoubtedly worry about it anyway.

So he doesn’t waste the whole day staring at them he puts the box of lenses away again and reaches for the other package, it gives under his hands a little and curious, Prompto pulls the paper away.

Monetarily its insignificant compared to the camera lenses but the sight of it makes Prompto’s chest feel tight and his eyes damp.

“This is -” Prompto traces the design stitched into the soft leather. A stylized skull and crown of the Lucian royal family.

“You can’t buy stuff like this, it has to be given by the crown,” Noct says, “It shows that you’re important.”

Prompto’s mouth trembles.

“I thought - if you want to keep it covered then you could cover it with something special and they’d cancel each other out. But maybe that was stupid -”

Prompto leans over the small gap between them and hugs Noct tight.

“You like it?” Noct asks softly, embracing him back.

When they pull apart both of them have slightly pink cheeks and a few people close by are watching them with keen interest. Prompto's probably not supposed to do stuff like that to Noct in public but his mouth just wouldn’t work and he had to do something.

“Love it,” Prompto enthuses, “I’ll put it on - later. When I have some privacy.”

-

They watch Prompto’s score tally itself up on the screen and then climb up through the list of names to slot itself securely in first place.

“No way,” Noct whines, “I’ve been trying to break the top three for years.”

“I maybe have an unfair advantage,” Prompto reminds him, typing in his initials separated by a dash to stop the machine flashing at him. When he’s done the machine churns out a seemingly endless supply of tickets.

“Bet you could actually get something decent with that,” Noct says, watching as Prompto tries to wind them up into a neat spool.

But Prompto’s already been given more than he can handle today. His camera lenses are nestled carefully in his backpack and he put on his new wrist band in the bathroom earlier. It’s secure, not too bulky, and from what he’s felt so far won’t be slipping down or coming lose to expose him unexpectedly. He’d slipped his old band onto his other wrist, unsure how to feel about it not being on his body.

It's been a part of him for years.

“Nah,” Prompto says.

He looks around for someone to give them to and easily spots a slightly harried looking woman stood just apart from a group of pre-teen - of maybe just teen - boys who are clamouring for their turn on a group of fighting games.

“You’re too nice,” Noct complains as they’re walking back away from her. He slings one arm around Prompto’s shoulder and starts to lead him back towards the front of the arcade.

“What do I need a giant stuffed garula for?” Prompto laughs.

“C’mon, Nyx is waiting for us.”

-

“So, uh - happy birthday,” Gladio says.

Prompto grins, relaxed enough after his first couple beers that he doesn’t care about how smiling this broad makes his cheeks dimple.

“Thanks,” he says.

“You should have said,” Gladio says earnestly, “I’d have done something special for you.”

Prompto blinks.

That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense really.

Gladio’s not super interested in him as a person, he knows, there’s just something about the way he looks that’s peaked Gladio’s interest. Part of him would quite like to know what that is exactly, because in Prompto’s own mind it just doesn’t compute.

He’s scrawny and short, mostly, and this new explosion of freckles makes him look like barely more than a teen.

But Gladio does like him, for whatever reason. And that’s enough.

“You still taking me home later?” he asks, grinning again.

Gladio’s mouth twitches into a half smile, “If that’s what you want.”

“Then I’m sure you can think of a special birthday treat for me,” Prompto teases, winking at him as he reaches for another beer.

-

“I’ll call you a taxi,” Noct offers reaching for his phone and missing. He gets it on the second grab and unlocks it quickly with his thumb.

“Gladio’s taking me home,” Prompto tells him without thinking.

“What? Why?”

Prompto snorts, “Thought you wanted me to celebrate my birthday?” Prompto wiggles his eyebrows and Noct swats at him playfully.

“Don’t be gross,” he complains, then -

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Prompto bites his tongue and as calmly as he can manage says, “I thought we’d already come to an agreement on this.”

Noct frowns at him, clearly wanting to say more but unable to based on their agreement of a few days ago.

“What’s going on?” Gladio asks suddenly, coming up behind them unexpectedly.

Noctis gestures at Prompto, movement a little wide.

“I was ordering Prom a taxi but he said he didn’t need one,” Noct says just a step off scathing, “Says you’re driving him home.”

Prompto’s shifts into a more defensive posture, feels his jaw clench and reminds himself how much he likes his best friend. Reminds himself that Noct is drunk and that this is a bizarre sticking point for him and it's not actually a reflection of his personality.

“That’s right,” Gladio says smoothly.

“You’ve been drinking,” Noctis accuses quickly.

“No I haven’t, you know that,” Gladio reminds him.

“Prom has,” Noctis tries instead, clearly thinking hard.

“I’ve had three beers,” Prompto defends.

“Four,” Gladio says quickly.

Prompto thinks that's probably true, but he’s still taken aback by the fact Gladio had been keeping track.

Prompto feels fine though, he’s been drinking plenty of water and eating tonnes so unlike Noct he’s still completely steady on his feet.

“I’m fine,” Prompto says aloud.

Noct’s eyes dart between the, several times and then he sighs, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Whatever,” Noct says though the expression he shoots at Gladio is still frosty at best, “Do what you want but I swear to Ramuh Gladio if you -”

“What the hell are you implying?” Gladio interrupts harshly.

Prompto bristles too, indignant at the idea Gladio would harm him like that somehow or take advantage.

Gladio’s been nothing but open and honest about his intentions, telling Prompto over and over again that whatever they do it up to him.

“Nothing. Sorry. Seriously,” Noct says sounding genuinely apologetic. To Prompto he says, “C’mere.”

Prompto walks over, easily stepping into the hug Noct offers him.

“Sorry - again,” Noct all but whispers in his ear.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says, brief spike of anger completely forgotten.

Noct keeps his arms around him and says, “Guess I’m a grumpy drunk.”

“A grumpy drunk sure, keep telling yourself that,” Prompto teases.

Noct snorts and they pull apart laughing softly. Noct holds out his fist and Prompto bumps it with his before tapping their hands together in a precise but familiar pattern.

“Thanks. Best birthday ever,” Prompto tells him seriously.

“Dude,” Noct says, blushing lightly and punching him in the chest.

“Text you tomorrow,” Prompto tells him, hurrying off to grab his coat.

As he slips into his shoes he can hear Noct and Gladio talking and he opens up the front door to stand in the hallway and give them some privacy.

Gladio hooks his strong arm over Prompto’s shoulders when he appears, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

Prompto goes warm all over.

“Ready to go?” Gladio asks.

“More than.”

-

He’s being overly needy again. Embarrassingly enthusiastic.

He knows it.

But he wants Gladio. Wants to bend himself over the edge of his bed and have Gladio pound into him or hook his ankles up onto Gladio’s shoulders and relish every inch of him as he sinks into his body.

He wants Gladio flat on his back beneath him, supine and unmoving as Prompto rides them both to completion.

Prompto’s on his back though, on his couch again, with Gladio’s mouth descending his body - bare but for the tank top that Prompto had been too impatient to remove and instead shoved up high under his armpits.

Gladio teases one of his nipples and then kisses and licks his way to the other one which he wets with a broad flat lick before nipping. Prompto’s hips jerk and Gladio releases him, blowing softly against the nub until Prompto writhes.

Gladio leans back and stares down at Prompto’s exposed form. Eyes raking across every patch of skin, they seems to burn across Prompto’s chest and thighs before zeroing in on where Prompto is hard and aching against his abdomen.

Prompto opens and closes his raised hand in a come here gesture, whining for Gladio to come back. It’s his birthday and he’s getting cold gods dammit.

Somewhat horrifically Gladio gets down from the couch and Prompto genuinely thinks he could cry with frustration -

Gladio lowers himself to his knees beside the couch and grabs Prompto’s hips, dragging him with almost no effort right to the edge of the cushions. Prompto moans, delighted at the show of strength and wondering what else Gladio could do to him.

When Gladio lowers his head he thinks he’s finally getting somewhere - not what he’d had in mind but it’s not like Prompto’s opposed to getting blown by an adonis - but then Gladio has the audacity to tease him.

He nuzzles into one thigh, kissing it softly and moving across to the other. He kisses and licks at him until he’s over sensitised and then drags the rough scruff on his jaw across the delicate skin.

Prompto moans wildly around a stuttered breath, arching his back as his ignored dick pushes out a pulse of pre-come, sticky against his belly.

Gladio nuzzles him again, dropping one teasing kiss to his dick before switching thighs once more.

“Want you to fuck me,” Prompto bites out.

Gladio makes a noise of agreement but says, “Next time.”

Prompto would complain but Gladio chooses that moment to take the head of Prompto’s dick into his mouth. He jerks up without meaning to when Gladio starts to take him deeper, writhing against the sensations and Gladio has to bring both callused hands to his hips and keep him steady.

Being pinned down is like an electric shock of arousal straight to his dick and Prompto cries out, practically a yell as he feels himself careen dangerously close to his ending.

Gladio pops off then, breathing in a few deep lungful of air and Prompto’s honestly grateful for the reprieve.

Feeling brave Prompto raises a hand to Gladio’s hair and buries his fingers into the thick and surprisingly soft roots. He tugs playfully and Gladio goes with it, taking Prompto back into his mouth and opening wide so he can take everything in. Prompto feels himself bottom out, Gladio’s lips stretched around his base and

Well.

Prompto’s kind of hazy on the particulars after that.

He knows he’s suddenly being pinned down only by one muscular forearm, and then there’s pressure against that patch of skin behind his balls and he moans, hips trying to jerk as his vision all but whites out.

Prompto tosses his arm over his face as Gladio works him to completion and beyond, continuing to play with Prompto’s cock until he’s twitching again.

“Shit,” Prompto gasps.

“Glad to be of service,” Gladio teases, teeth sharp against his thigh. Prompto thinks that might mark. He hopes it does.

“You’re not done yet,” Prompto pants at him.

“No?” Gladio asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Nuh uh,” Prompto says thickly, unable to form full cohesive sentences, “Want that dick.”

Gladio laughs and tells him, “I’m good.”

That’s absolutely not okay.

Prompto frees himself from beneath his arm and reaches for Gladio with it, pleased when Gladio moves easily, kissing Prompto deeply as he settles over his body.

“Want it,” Prompto tries once more. Absently he's proud of himself that the taste of him off Gladio's tongue isn't completely horrible.

“Prom, you’re tired,” Gladio points out. It’s not untrue, especially now he’s come, but Prompto’s not opposed to being fucked after he’s finished. He kind of likes it in fact, the breathless over sensitivity, the idea of being hopelessly ravaged and taken apart.

“I wanted to do that for you,” Gladio says gently and Prompto feels his heart flop almost painfully.

No, he tells himself, don’t you dare.

This is physical, it’s fun.

“And I wanna feel your dick,” Prompto says, putting them back on course, “Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” Gladio says, pressing his own impressive cock into Prompto’s abdomen, covered by the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Just my thighs then,” Prompto concedes, thinking of an alternate plan he’ll enjoy not as much but a great deal, “Fucking make a mess all over me.”

Prompto’s half hard again by the time Gladio’s groaning into the back of his neck, hand tight on Prompto’s thigh to keep them pressed together and thrusting arrhythmical against Prompto’s perineum with every move of his hips.

Gladio comes in a few long spurts that drench his thighs and splatter his abdomen and swelling cock in warm seed. Prompto shivers, his dick giving a thoughtful twitch.

Gladio reaches for it but Prompto actually feels deliciously spent and satisfied so he catches the strong wrist, trailing Gladio’s fingers through the mess instead. Prompto brings those fingers up to his mouth and thoroughly cleans them up with his tongue.

Gladio nips at his earlobe, giving a low groan into Prompto’s hair when his tongue twists around his index finger.

“You’re something else,” Gladio says absent-mindedly.

Prompto’s heart does that odd thump again and Prompto focus on the feeling of Gladio’s dick still semi-hard between his thighs and his firm body pressed along his back.

“Best birthday ever,” Prompto giggles.

Gladio handles the clean up this time and Prompto only makes a half-hearted complaint about being babied when Gladio carries him over to his bed.

Gladio’s goodbye kiss lingers for a long while and Prompto thinks he’s probably still smiling when he falls asleep.

- - -

Prompto admires the faded bite mark on his thigh in the shower, twisting himself around to get a good look at it. He presses a thumb to it as he lathers up and is completely unsurprised when his dick lurches with interest.

But Prompto doesn’t have time for that this morning. He’d slept in ahead of his shift at Insomnia Ink to catch up on the last little bit of rest from how busy he’s been and to prepare ahead for an extra long shift. Prompto wills his arousal way.

Maybe Gladio will give him a new mark later.

They’d not agreed to hook up again today but if they’re both leaving Insomnia Ink late then it just makes sense, right?

Prompto hopes so.

-

Fi looks exactly like Eli would if you turn all the settings in a simulator to soft.

Her hair is lighter, soft waves of golden brown that fall halfway down her back and a tiny waist offset by curves Prompto would probably find more interesting were he a very different man.

She laughs bright and loud, boisterous with both her affections and words.

“So what’s up with him?” she asks Eli, gesturing at Prompto and shooting him an exaggerated wink.

Prompto shakes his head, grinning as he continues to mop behind the counter.

Eli finished her tattoo a good half hour ago and now they’re just waiting for her ride to arrive so she can clear out ahead of Gladio’s appointment. They’re still sat up by Eli’s bench though, so Prompto can get his cleaning done in relative peace.

“The kid?” Eli says, “Good apprentice - enthusiastic and all that. Nothing not to like.”

Prompto blushes and turns his back towards them so they can’t see his dopey grin. Eli’s probably just winding him up but it’s nice to hear regardless.

“I mean what's up with him not having any tattoos,” Fi corrects him.

Prompto’s kind of glad his back is to them now, but for a different reason. He goes hot again, all the way up to his ears, but he’s burning with shame now, not pleasure.

“I imagine that falls into the realm of shit that’s his business, Fi,” Eli tells her, voice lacking some of the warmth it’s held all afternoon.

“I bet he does you know,” Fi muses voice teasing but still managing to hurt him, “Somewhere, something really bad he has to keep hidden.”

The words cut Prompto like a knife - unexpected and sharp - harsher, he thinks, for how sweet she’s been in everything else she’d said. She doesn’t actually know, Prompto tries to tell himself, she’s just teasing, trying to get a rise out of him.

If he were anyone else, with any other childhood, he’s be laughing with her, telling her some fake story about a tramp stamp or misspelt gibberish.

“Kid?” Eli calls, “You okay?”

He’s gripping the mop really tight, he realises, but not moving it any more.

“I - I need a drink,” Prompto blurts, stashing the mop back into the bucket and making for the kitchen as fast as he can.

He can’t make it there without catching sight of Fi and Eli’s concern though and he maybe slams the door behind him a little more forcefully that planned.

Prompto pours himself a glass of water and tries to just get his shit together as he takes tiny sips.

It’s not like anyone even saw. It’s dumb to be this upset about something that doesn’t even matter.

Eli knocks on the door and Prompto clears his throat before calling, “Yeah?”

Eli opens the door slowly, standing half in and half out of it looking a touch awkward.

“You okay?” Eli asks.

“Yeah,” Prompto says though his voice cracks slightly, “Sorry - I just need -”

“Fi’s friends just picked her up,” Eli tells him, “It’s just you and me here.”

Prompto nods.

“You wanna call it a day?” Eli asks.

“No,” Prompto says quickly. He likes being here, even if its just to mop floors. It feels a hundred times more satisfying than the same work at Sakana.

“No I want to stay,” Prompto adds more calmly.

“You wanna tell me what freaked you out - you really don’t need to be embarrassed, if its about what she said. Either that you have no tattoos or of she’s right. I promise I’ve seen worse.”

Prompto snorts bitterly.

“Doubt it,” he mumbles without thinking.

Eli perks up slightly, interested but not pleased and steps into the kitchen properly. He leans up against the opposite counter and waits, patient and unassuming.

Noct had been fine.

Iggy probably knows and he’s never treated him differently.

Gladio probably knows and he’s fine sleeping with Prompto.

Prompto breathes deep and undoes the clasp on his wristband before he can second guess himself.

Eli takes it in, eyes intent on the skin of his wrist and says, “I’ve seen worse.”

“You don’t - you don’t know what it means?” Prompto asks.

Eli shakes his head, “At a loss here, Freckles.”

He hadn’t anticipated having to explain it. It’s been a long time since the person whose seen it hadn’t just known.

“Do you know - do you know how the empire used to get its soldiers?”

Eli frowns, the curve of his brow getting incrementally deeper as he thinks. He glances at Prompto’s wrist and then back up at his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” Eli tells him, “You don’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” Prompto says low, securing his wristband back in place.

“We’ll work something out,” Eli says, oddly urgent.

“What do you mean?”

“About you practising,” Eli says, “You don’t have to ink your skin until you want to, even if that’s never. We’ll work something else out.”

Prompto releases a puff of air he thinks he’s been holding since Eli offered him the job.

It’s not that he doesn’t want a tattoo, it’s never been that, but the idea of having to get something else he doesn’t want - something he doesn’t really get to choose - had left him feeling faintly sick to his stomach.

“Thanks,” Prompto says softly.

Eli clasps his shoulder, “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says honestly, “Thanks for not freaking out.”

Eli shifts his hand from his shoulder to ruffle his hair and Prompto makes an embarrassing noise as he attempts to sidestep him.

“Gladio will be here soon,” Prompto points out, gesturing at the clock, “I’ll put the mop away.”

-

Prompto makes everyone a coffee and as he comes back into the room cradling the three of them precariously Eli calls for a break.

Gladio stretches in his seat, muscles flexing beneath golden tattooed skin. Thankfully, Gladio’s too busy eyeing the ink on Eli’s arms to notice the way Prompto’s outright ogling him.

“When did you get your first one?” Gladio asks, pointing at Eli’s arm.

“When I was too young,” Eli explains, “Stole my cousins ID and got this super lame and terribly done sequence of Solheim runes up my calf.”

Prompto hadn’t known that. All Eli had told him was that he’d been just fifteen when he’d gotten his first one.

“No way?” Prompto says, interested.

“Real bad, kid, you’re smart to wait,” Eli tells him, his look almost uncomfortably understanding.

“Why are you waiting?” Gladio asks, “Seriously, tattoo apprentices need tattoos, surely its an unwritten rule.”

Prompto burns red. He can feel himself giving off actual heat. How many times today is this going to happen to him?

And from Gladio too?

Doesn’t he know? Didn’t he also read Prompto’s background check? It’s why he’s never tried to pull of Prompto’s wristband, right?

Is he testing him? Trying to get him to just say it.

Trying to goad the information out of him? Like a test.

“Prom?” Gladio prods.

No.

No. He can’t, not right now.

Prompto stands quickly and sends Eli a searching look, begging for help.

“Why don’t you fill up the ink rack for me, huh?” Eli supplies, face obviously torn.

“Sure thing,” Prompto says gratefully, forcibly having to stop himself from running to the back room to gather the inks.

He gives himself a moment in the storage room, selecting inks at random, and giving himself some space to just breath.

Prompto filled the inks that morning so there's literally nothing for him to do but he stand in front of it, moving things around with his back towards the other two as they get back to the tattoo.

Eventually he can’t fake it any more so he forces himself to deliver bottles of water to the station and offer to grab food if they want it. They say no, Gladio looking so guilty Prompto’s insides squirm, forcing a retreat to the front desk with his sketchbook. If Eli wants him back, he’ll ask and Prompto will go but he doesn’t and Prompto spends the next hour or so in relative silence only answering direct questions.

It’s the first time he’s not wrapped Gladio’s tattoo and as he watches the other two talk quietly as Eli attaches tape Prompto adds a touch of forlornness to his swirling pit of emotions.

He’s still shaken though, and its a while before he puts his finger on why.

He doesn’t want Gladio to know.

Gladio seems to think he’s an innocent thing - adorable he calls him.

Prompto doesn’t want him to know - and Gladio must not know, somehow - because he doesn’t want to taint Gladio’s opinion of him. Gladio makes him feel something, a particular way he’s never quite felt before and Prompto doesn’t want it to change.

Prompto feels hopelessly confused. Brain trying to process two different bits of information as fact simultaneously.

Prompto packs up his stuff as they approach and cashes out the register, avoiding Gladio’s gaze, as Eli takes his card payment. He carries it into the office and Eli passes him the key to double lock it as soon as he’s back in the main room.

Prompto had half expected Gladio to leave but he’s waiting, in a worn hoody and fiddling with his car keys.

If he were anyone else Prompto might think he was nervous.

“You need a ride home, Freckles?” Eli asks once he’s locked the front door, hunching against the rain outside. Eli glances at Gladio over Prompto’s shoulder, looking concerned.

“No thanks,” he says quietly.

Prompto can handle this, he can just say goodbye to Gladio and walk home. He just needs to sleep on it, he’ll feel better in the morning and then he can move on, apologise to Gladio for being so weird and -

But he can’t face talking to him at all, he realises, jittery and anxious to the point of nausea at the very thought.

He’s really going to have to apologise to Gladio tomorrow, Prompto thinks, as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts to head off in the direction of home -

Prompto’s fucking everything up. He’s such a mess. It’s not fair that he’s -

“Hey,” Gladio says urgently, hand grabbing the top of his arm to stop him.

Somehow the touch burns even through his jacket and he tugs himself free but gives Gladio the respect he deserves and turns to look at him.

“Let me drive you home,” Gladio urges him.

He can’t possibly think -

“No,” Prompto snaps angrily. Gladio can’t think that Prompto’s going to put out now, after the way he’s been behaving.

“Not for that,” Gladio says quickly, “Just literally let me drive you home.”

“No thanks,” Prompto responds, being trapped inside a car with Gladio sounds like hell right now, “I’m gonna walk.”

“Freckles, c’mon, its raining,” Gladio cajoles him, “It’s dark. You shouldn’t walk by yourself.”

It’s the first time he’s ever not been convinced by Gladio’s charm. Prompto can’t help but see some of the sense in what he says though.

“Fine,” Prompto says sighing, “I’ll take the bus.”

Gladio’s face flickers through what looks like half a dozen emotions but Prompto ignores them and starts to walk towards the bus stop.

Gladio follows, “Prom. That’s silly, I can just drive you.”

Prompto senses the hand reaching for him again and dodges away from it, turning back to face Gladio as his frustration and anger bubbles up to breaking point.

“I said no, Gladio,” Prompto says firmly, voice unsteady but sharp, “I know that’s not a word you’re used to hearing but I’m sure you know what it means.”

Prompto might as well have slapped him, he thinks, judging by the way Gladio recoils slightly, his expression turning bleak. Prompto shivers, cold from the rain and something inside him.

“Text me when you get home. Please,” Gladio begs.

Prompto thinks he can manage that, even if he can’t find it in himself to speak. So he nods, throat tight and eyes burning.

Gladio’s car doesn’t drive past where he's huddled in the bus stop for several minutes.

-

Prompto strips as soon as he gets inside, towelling off his hair and pulling on his pyjamas so he can curl up in bed.

He’s hungry, stomach aching with it, but he knows he won’t be able to eat. In the dim light of his lamp he thumbs out a perfunctory text to Gladio.

[Prompto 21:17] i’m home

It makes him feel better and worse when Gladio responds straight away.

[Gladio 21:18] I’m glad. Sleep well <3

- - -

Prompto struggles through his first class the next day and wonders if it’s an omen of what’s to come for his whole week.

“You look wrecked,” Noct says to him, later in the day, popping into the library to see Prompto after his final class.

“Didn’t sleep well,” Prompto says simply.

Noct makes a face and then something in Prompto’s makes him pause.

“Weren't you with Gladio?” Noct asks tentatively.

“No,” Prompto says shortly, then gentler, “I was too tired.”

If he tells Noct what really happened he’ll probably go off on Gladio again, and despite everything, Prompto’s not really mad at him.

Whether Gladio knows about his tattoo or not he wasn’t trying to hurt Prompto. That much he’d realised.

Prompto’s mostly embarrassed and ashamed to have reacted that way, set off, in all likelihood, by the triple whammy of what Fi said, coming clean to Eli and then what was essentially a throw away comment from Gladio.

It was just too much.

Prompto sometimes crumbles under the lightest pressures so in hindsight he’s not surprised.

Noct hums, “You wanna come over later?”

Prompto shakes his head, “Got too much to do.”

“We can just study,” Noct offers.

“I need all my art stuff,” Prompto explains, “But you can come over to me if you think my shitty couch won’t break your back.”

“Dude,” Noct says excitedly, “At yours we can order the really good take-out Iggy won’t normally let us have.”

Prompto laughs, “You’re on.”

Noct sits down to send off a text - probably apprising Ignis of his plans - and Prompto taps his pen nervously against the table.

“Noct?” Prompto asks when it looks like he’s done.

“What’s up?”

“You know my background check - do you know if Gladio ever read it?”

If Noct is shocked by the question he doesn’t show it. His answer, however, does nothing to make Prompto feel better.

“I have no idea,” Noct says.

“Did you?” Prompto asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

“Of course not,” Noct stresses, “Just Iggy and the Marshal I think.”

“So you don’t know what's in it?” Prompto tries. He scratches under his wristband and Noct’s eyes track the movement.

“I don’t know if Iggy knows,” Noct admits, “But he wouldn’t care. Neither would Gladio for that matter.”

“Wouldn’t it have been in there though,” Prompto muses, “That’s a security risk right? Trained soldier.”

“Imprisoned child,” Noct corrects, “So no. And they might not have told him if they didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Huh,” Prompto says.

Maybe Ignis doesn’t know.

-

[Noct 17:44] omw with spicy ribs and shit

[Prompto 17:45] i’ll eat the ribs but the shit you can keep for yourself

[Noct 17:46] oh ha ha

[Noct 17:47] so i talked to iggy.

[Noct 17:47] and with master skills i managed to reveal nothing but find out that gladio didn’t read your background check

[Noct 17:48] said he’d trust iggys judgement

[Prompto 17:49] oh, thats cool

[Prompto 17:50] thanks for your detective work (人◕ω◕)(◕‿◕✿)

[Prompto 17:50] you didn’t need to but i appreciate it

[Noct 17:51] np. i couldn’t work out a way to find out what he knows without giving anything away but ill work on it

-

Noct gets picked up at ten and suddenly left alone with his thoughts Prompto paces the length of his tiny apartment a dozen times before coming to a conclusion.

He misses Gladio.

And not just in a physical way. He misses talking to Gladio.

It’s worrisome and potentially problematic but Prompto can’t help it and he can’t deny it.

Gladio’s not messaged him at all and Prompto could use this break as an excuse to distance himself from the relationship before anything else happens but instead he pulls up the images he’s avoided sending Gladio before because they’re straight up porn and drops them into their text thread.

[Prompto 22:21] [Image SG_5.jpg]

[Prompto 22:21] [Image SG_7.jpg]

[Prompto 22:21] sorry. i was a jerk yesterday

[Prompto 22:22] please accept these smutty drawings as an apology

Prompto expects to wait, maybe even until tomorrow but it vibrates with a message almost immediately. He’s nervous as he opens it, knowing it could just be Gladio telling him to fuck off.

[Gladio 22:23] Don’t be sorry. *I’m* sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.

Prompto’s heart races, pleased and exhilarated and relieved. Gladio doesn’t hate him, all is not lost.

He’s careful with his response.

Prompto wants to offer a reason without exposing the things he’d like to keep hidden and he thinks he hits on a decent balance. Gladio doesn’t question it, so Prompto chalks it up a win.

[Prompto 22:24] you didn’t know it would. i don’t like talking about tattoos and me

[Prompto 22:24] i know thats weird and i’m sorry

[Prompto 22:25] but you didn’t know so i shouldn't have gotten mad at you

[Gladio 22:25] Don’t be sorry. You’re right. I didn’t know it was a boundary. Now I do, it won’t happen again.

[Gladio 22:26] I promise. I never want to upset you again.

The words are exactly what he wanted to see but they tread to close to the border of something they can never be together. Prompto knows this, he’s fine with it, he can be fine with it but he can’t let them linger here for too long.

He steers them back in the right direction.

[Prompto 22:28] you haven’t said if you like my drawings or not?

[Prompto 22:28] i was thinking of you when i drew them

[Gladio 22:31] I love them. You’re amazing. If your other plans fall through I 100% support your decision to go into smutty graphic novels.

[Gladio 22:31] I’ll be your biggest fan.

[Prompto 22:32] and i’d be willing to get covered in hay if you’d finally bend me over something

It’s bait, big fat obvious bait to focus back on the sex, the enticing chemistry that swells between them whenever their alone.

Gladio latches onto it and Prompto follows him on to easier topics.

- - -

Prompto’s schedule turns to utter hell again out of nowhere. It rains the whole time too, so he’s cooped up and stressed with a sprinkling of exhaustion and anxiety about school and money with no way to do anything about it.

Every tentative meet up with Gladio gets cancelled for one reason or another and the weather turns so miserable Prompto can’t even go for his runs, not having the gear to keep him dry but not overheat when the water falling from the sky isn’t made of ice.

And then, Friday morning, he’s awoken by the sun streaming in through his half closed curtains and he rockets out of bed excitedly.

He runs the long way round. The really long way round that takes him through some of the nicer parks and through streets that are filled with no one but fellow joggers and dog walkers.

Prompto’s music is pounding in his ears - probably too loud - as he cuts through one of his more familiar parks, notable for having a statue of someone that isn’t a Lucis Caelum.

And then he spots Gladio.

It pulls him up so short his feet momentarily stop listening to him and he almost stumbles as he drops down to a fast walk.

“Good morning,” Prompto says happily, going up on to his tiptoes to kiss the edge of Gladio’s mouth before he can over think it.

You’re probably not supposed to kiss your fuck buddy when you run into them in public but Prompto’s happy to pretend he doesn’t know that.

“Hello you. I didn’t know you ran this far out,” Gladio says.

“Todays long run day,” Prompto says, probably not needing to explain how shitty the weather has been in the last week.

Prompto breathes deeply, willing his heart rate down a little. Something that is absolutely ruined when Gladio reaches up to tug at a lock of his hair. He knows he must look a state but Gladio’s looking at him like he might eat it him so maybe its not all bad.

“I’m putting you off your pace, huh?” Gladio teases.

“Maybe,” Prompto retorts, “Worth it though,” he admits.

“I’m glad,” Gladio says and he looks it, “Any chance I’ll get to see you soon? At Noct’s or otherwise?”

“Yes to both,” Prompto assures, “Noct’s tomorrow and then I was gonna invite you round on Monday, if you’re free. Sorry my schedules been so -” waves his hand.

“I can be free,” Gladio says.

Prompto beams and though he’d like to stay and chat he needs to get back home and get ready for school.

It's a relief, honestly, that Gladio's so obviously forgiven him. He'd worried things would be strange between them, but they seem to be right back to normal.

“Great,” Prompto says, “Now I gotta run - literally. See you, Big Guy.”

He jogs away before Gladio can respond, turning at the entrance on the park and blowing a kiss over his shoulder to where Gladio is still stood watching him go.

- - -

“Presentations will be due next Thursday when we normally have our seminar, groups are posted on the board outside but I’ll email it to you.”

Most of the class groans aloud, Prompto’s not among them but he does die a little inside.

A short turn around. Group project. Presentation.

It’s all Prompto’s worst nightmares rolled in to one thing and worth fifteen percent of his grade.

-

It gets worse.

The group chat he gets added in to is a shit show. Everyone is apparently busy all the time and no one is willing to cancel plans or skip club meetings.

And then one by one the other five members of his group point out that they have nothing to do tonight.

So it’ll be Prompto that’s cancelling plans.

Begrudgingly he texts Gladio, bitter resentment for the rest of his group rising with every second.

Even if Gladio’s pretty sweet about it.

-

They get so little done it’s almost funny. Except its not funny, not at all.

The work gets divided at least, with an assurance from everyone to meet up next Wednesday at the latest. Prompto’s not sure he sees that happening but it’s honestly a relief just to get out of the library before midnight. He’ll just have to do the best he can on his part and hope the professor grades fairly.

It’s half eleven when Prompto gets in to bed, wide awake and frustrated, so tightly wound up its a smack in the face to realise that he’d had to cancel the perfect stress relief just so he could become this stressed.

He lies there for what feels like half an hour but when he checks his phone it turns out to have been about four minutes.

He needs something.

Prompto rolls onto his back and reaches into his pyjama bottoms without any preamble, stroking along his length and imagining it’s Gladio’s hands instead. It kind of works - he gets properly hard - but it feels shallow and fulfilling.

He glances at his phone, discarded on the pillow beside him. An idea comes to life in his mind, something he's never done before but -

He thinks Gladio will be great at it.

He won’t know if he doesn’t try, right?

Prompto flicks on his side lamp and tugs off the ratty t-shirt he’d thrown on for bed. Reclining back he flips to front camera and angles it so his face isn’t visible but all his torso and the just of his hips is shown in full.

The lighting is awful so Prompto deletes it as fast as he took it, reaching to flick on his fairy lights too.

There. Much better, the second light throws all his angles into sharper relief and highlighting abs that he doesn’t really have in the full light of day.

Prompto sends off a message to Gladio - perfectly innocent - and getting a response back immediately as per the norm for this time of night.

If Gladio minds that Prompto keeps him up until its technically tomorrow he doesn’t say anything about it.

Chapter Text

[Noct 00:11] dude you awake?

[Prompto 00:12] can you say the hundred year solheim oppression of free art?

[Noct 00:12] (^ц^ )

[Noct 00:13] sounds fun

[Prompto 00:13] whats up?

[Noct 00:14] nothing much. just bored. can’t sleep. didnt see you today

[Noct 00:14] how was your not-date with gladio yesterday?

[Prompto 00:15] had to cancel because of this dumb group project

[Noct 00:16] how did THAT go?

[Prompto 00:17] praying for a C

- - -

Prompto rubs at his eyes, dry and itchy beneath his contacts - he should swap them out for his glasses but he is absolutely not the kind of proper adult that remembers to carry them around with him all the time.

“You know when you think your essay is probably good but also you’re so tired maybe you’re misspelling the?”

Noctis snorts, “Yeah?”

“That’s me now, forever.”

“Let me read through it for you,” Ignis offers, setting aside the cookbook he was perusing and holding his hands out for Prompto’s laptop.

“For real?” Prompto asks in wonder.

Ignis looks at him pointedly and makes a gimme motion with his hands.

“You’re the best most kindest person I’ve ever met,” Prompto says as he yanks his power cord out so he can pass the computer across. It holds a shitty charge but experience tells him Ignis is a quick reader.

“I certainly hope your grammar is better in this at least,” Ignis teases.

Prompto laughs, “I make no promises.”

Prompto raises his arms and twists his back so it clicks audibly, letting out a short noise of satisfaction.

“That sounded awful,” Ignis comments idly without looking up.

“I think it means I’m getting old,” Prompto muses.

Noct rolls his eyes, “It means your mattress sucks.”

“Hey,” Prompto says defensively though he’s not sure why. It is kind of a shitty mattress, “It’s got like eight kids through college and it’ll do me too.”

“I beg your pardon,” Ignis says looking at Prompto in obvious shock, “How many?”

“I don’t actually know,” Prompto admits, “But the guy that checks up on the apartments says they keep them for a long time. Like, ten years. Until they’re not usable anymore.”

“Please tell me you bought a high quality mattress topper?” Ignis demands.

“I bought a mattress topper,” Prompto says. High quality, however, it is not. He’d spent just enough money so it doesn’t make a crinkly plastic noise whenever he gets into bed but not enough that it actually has any effect on the quality of the mattress.

Ignis blinks, glances at Noctis and then back to Prompto.

“I see,” Ignis says. And he goes back to Prompto’s essay.

“Why do I feel like Ignis is really disappointed in me?” Prompto asks Noct.

“Welcome to my world,” the prince mutters.

-

[Gladio 21:37] Why isn’t it Sunday yet?

[Prompto 21:40] because we hold to an archaic seven day calendar week designed only to keep us apart

[Gladio 21:41] Did you have fun at Noct’s earlier?

[Prompto 21:42] it was okay. missing a particular brand of eye candy i enjoy though

[Gladio 21:43] Sorry Freckles. Family dinners and all that.

[Gladio 21:44] Make it up to you on Sunday.

Prompto’s already in bed, laying about in his underwear because he’s about a week behind on his laundry. He’s flat on his belly sketching while a Moogleflix runs an averagely interesting true crime documentary in the background.

He switches to his camera and points it down the line of his back, arching his hips to highlight the curve of his ass.

[Prompto 21:47] [Image 10044.jpg]

[Prompto 21:47] promise?

[Gladio 21:48] Just wait until I get my hands on you, you little tease. So gorgeous.

- - -

Prompto’s always pretty tense when there’s a knock on his door he wasn’t expecting. It's rarely a good thing.

Noct always lets him know before hand when he’s coming over and he doesn’t really think it’s in Gladio’s nature to just turn up. Not, Prompto thinks, he’d turn him away right now if he did.

Prompto wishes there was a window in his door, or a peep hole, so he had some indication if he was about to encounter a salesman or an angry neighbour. Prompto pulls it open a crack, relieved if not a little confused that it’s Ignis on the other side.

“Hey,” Prompto says, pulling his door wider open and peering round to see if anyone else is with him.

“Just me, I’m afraid,” Ignis says, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not disappointed,” Prompto rushes to assure him, waving him into the apartment, “Just surprised.”

Ignis smiles and follows him inside, a bulky shopping back in one hand, toeing out of his shoes by the front door.

“Do you want some tea?” Prompto offers. He’d bought himself an actual teapot a few days ago, grabbed for a steal from a thrift store while trying to root out an easel - again. It’s plain blue and chip free, from what Prompto could see, the inside remarkably unstained.

“That sounds lovely,” Ignis says and Prompto reaches for his kettle.

When he turns back around Ignis is over by his bed, pulling away his duvet and folding it so he can set it on the couch.

“Uh, Ignis?” Prompto says really pleased he changed the covers yesterday.

“Hmm?” Ignis murmurs, now gathering his pillows.

“What are you doing?” Prompto asks, edging carefully out of his kitchen.

“Don’t fret, I’ll put everything back where I found it,” Ignis explains.

“I mean - I’m not super worried about that,” Prompto says, “Just what exactly are you doing?”

Ignis tugs the sheet free and places it on the couch with the other things.

“I acquired another mattress topper for you,” Ignis says like it’s nothing.

“Iggy,” Prompto whines, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I think we’ll both sleep easier knowing I have,” Ignis says confidently.

Prompto makes an embarrassed noise and Ignis laughs.

“I’ll tell Noct,” Prompto threatens.

Ignis turns to look at him simply so Prompto can see him roll his eyes, “He already knows I’m here.”

Ignis bundles up his current mattress cover and tosses it to the floor as though it’s destined for the trash and surveys the mattress. It’s pretty clean, Prompto thinks, at least what he can see with eyes. The problem is, of course, that the springs and the padding are in less than stellar condition.

“That’s not awful,” Ignis concedes.

“See,” Prompto says, “It’s fine. So you can just, y’know, return whatever you bought and get your money back.”

Prompto would offer to just buy it if he thought for even a second Ignis would have bought something within his budget.

“Nice try,” Ignis says blandly.

“Let me help at least,” Prompto offers weakly.

“Making the tea would be helpful,” Ignis remarks just as the kettle comes to a boil.

-

Prompto settles into what feels like a new bed that night. The topper is thick and firm - yet still soft - supporting his body as he lays down.

He rolls onto his back and grabs his phone from where it’s charging.

[Prompto 23:09] you were right

[Iggy 23:11] Such is life. It’s comfortable?

[Prompto 23:12] amazing. come round for tea whenever you like.

[Iggy 23:13] Sweet dreams, Prompto.

- - -

“You’re good at this,” Eli says as Prompto swings the chair around to grab the image waiting for them on the printer.

“Huh?”

“This computer stuff, I still can’t get my head around it. But you just resized that text for me in seconds when I might have spend an hour doing it by hand,” Eli explains.

Prompto shrugs, “It’s just the way I learnt. I probably couldn’t do properly it by hand.”

“You should practice that,” Eli says, taking the paper so he can quickly trace the image onto a stencil, “While I do this tattoo, practice resizing by hand. You should know how to do it even if you probably won’t ever have to.”

“Sure,” Prompto says, nodding eagerly, “Anything in particular?”

“Do something with text and then just size anything you like from the catalogue up and down by half,” Eli suggests. He stands and trims the edge of the stencil before squaring his shoulders and making his way over to his first of three clients booked in for the rest of the day.

This one is fine, she’s a sweet girl, getting her first tattoo not long after her eighteenth birthday, but she’s bought what must be her entire friendship group with her for emotional support and their near constant laughter is already grating on him.

Prompto grabs out the original piece from this morning and carefully draws a smaller box underneath before getting to work.

-

Prompto would laugh at Eli’s grim expression if he thought he would survive it.

“It’s almost like,” Eli mutters, reaching for one of the skin-safe pens on the desk, “That in seventeen years tattoo experience I’ve never tattooed a cluster of stars onto a hip before.”

Prompto snorts, trying to keep it low so the client can’t hear him, “What’s wrong this time?” he asks low.

“Nothing,” Eli says, “They’d just like to see it another way.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Useful feedback that you can use to make changes.”

“I hate to steal your line, Freckles, but I can’t wait for Gladio to get here.”

“Hey!” Prompto squawks, “Shut up.”

Eli laughs as he walks away.

-

Eventually the customer settles on an arrangement of stars - identical to the original stencil - and Eli finishes his works just minutes before Gladio’s supposed to arrive.

“Wanna do me a favour, Kid?” Eli asks and his stomach prevents him actually having to finish his request by rumbling loudly.

It should have been a quiet day, Eli should have had plenty of time to break for food before Gladio’s arrival but the additional work on Eli’s last client and a tricky customer wanting a walk in a five pm on a sunday and refusing to take no for an answer…

And here they are, Eli starving and just a touch frustrated on a day he normally enjoys.

“Mercutio’s?” Prompto offers.

“Yes,” Eli sighs gratefully, “Meat and carbs.”

Prompto’s in line behind a couple of young professionals before he realises that Gladio’s going to have arrived for his appointment and he and Prompto have one of their not-dates scheduled with Prompto seemingly mising from the store.

While the people two ahead of him in line order he pulls out his phone.

[Promptos 18:03] I HAVEN’T BAILED ON YOU

[Prompto 18:03] eli sent me to grab him some food and coffee i’ll be right back

[Prompto 18:04] you want me to grab you something for later? or now? going to mercutios and the coffee place.

[Gladio 18:05] Coffee please. I thought I’d take you for some food after though, if that’s okay?

Prompto frowns down at the screen.

What is Gladio doing? This isn’t how casual works, not in Prompto’s mind. The texting he can handle, the hanging out when Noct and Iggy are there too, that’s all easy to separate from the sex but Prompto doesn’t understand how they’re supposed to go out for dinner and still keep the sex casual. Prompto doesn’t think he has it in him.

Prompto could bring this up with Gladio, talk it out and make sure Gladio knows why this makes him uncomfortable.

But it's easier is to just side step the conversation completely.

[Prompto 18:06] i’ll grab us something to take back to mine

[Gladio 18:06] So impatient.

Prompto grins at his phone.

[Prompto 18:07] you have NO idea

Prompto orders Eli and Gladio the same garula-cheese-mustard-mayo thing he’s seen them both eat before - large, obviously - and gets himself a spicy daggerquill sub with regular salted chips for everyone. While he’s waiting near the register for it to be bagged up he spies the cake cabinet and uses his own money to buy a little treat for everyone.

“Thank the Astrals,” Eli says as soon as Prompto is walking back through the doors to Insomnia Ink with his bag of food and tray of coffees.

“Please give this man something to eat,” Gladio calls jokingly, straightening up as Eli hooks his tattoo needle into the stand and moves towards Prompto.

Laughing, Prompto throws Gladio a smile and a quick wave before placing the food on the front counter and roots out Eli’s share from the bag.

“What’s the rest of that?” Eli asks, nodding at the bag as Prompto folds the top back over.

“Stuff for me and Gladio to eat later,” Prompto tells him. And then realises what’s he’s done.

Eli’s grin is terrifying. Satisfied and smug all at once.

“Don’t even,” Prompto begs.

“Entertain Gladio for me while I eat, huh, Kid?” Eli says, pitching his voice louder than necessary.

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I shoulda spat in your coffee,” he says but he hands it over. Prompto grabs the other two cups as he walks to Gladio, gloriously bronzed and shirtless as always, leaning forward like he’s waiting for him.

“You want your food now?” Prompto asks handing Gladio his coffee and letting their fingers linger against one another for an extra second.

“Later,” Gladio says, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Prompto blushes, “You’ve looked at me plenty this week.”

Prompto doesn’t know how he got so bold. So confident. But the outpouring of praise and compliments he gets from Gladio whenever he sends a certain kind of picture makes him feel a specific way he’s never really experienced before.

Beautiful. Desirable.

“Not the same,” Gladio argues.

Prompto agrees, even if their sexting session from Monday has seen him quite happily through the week.

“How’s your arm?” Prompto asks, admiring the work Eli’s already done today, Gladio’s skin a little inflamed around the new ink.

“Same as always,” Gladio says.

Prompto sighs, “I should have told Eli to stay away from your biceps,” he muses making a grabby hand gesture at Gladio.

“Plenty of me to hold on to,” Gladio says on a chuckle, dropping Prompto a wink that makes Prompto feel hot around his ears.

“You can say that again,” Prompto mumbles, taking a large sip of his latte.

-

Gladio pins Prompto up against the side of his car before either of them can get inside it.

His mouth is warm and fervent, hand secure against Prompto’s jaw to keeps his face steady. He pecks Prompto twice quickly as he pulls away.

“You sure you’re not too busy?” Gladio checks.

“Mhm,” Prompto confirms, nuzzling Gladio’s jaw, feeling the scratch of his beard against his cheeks.

Gladio swats playfully at his butt, a light tap Prompto barely feels, “Get in the car then.”

-

Gladio grabs the bag of food as they get out of the car, holding it in one hand and pressing the other one up against the small of Prompto’s back as he gets his front door open.

Once inside Prompto grabs the bag back and hurries off to the kitchen to stuff the whole thing in his kitchen, nerves on fire from the gentle touches. He hops up onto his kitchen counter while he waits for Gladio to kick off his shoes and hang his jacket on the hook by his door.

Gladio steps into the cradle of Prompto’s thighs without urging, his hands skimming across his legs soft and teasing, pressing his mouth to Prompto’s in an oddly chaste move. Prompto nibbles at Gladio’s lip, impatient as Gladio always says he is and Gladio opens up to him with a soft groan meeting each one of Prompto’s presses with his own.

“We should eat,” Gladio suggests.

Prompto kisses him again, trying to disperse the idea from Gladio’s mind.

He sneaks his fingers under Gladio’s t-shirt, tracing the waistband of his jeans.

“M’not hungry for food,” Prompto mumbles daring to reach for the buckle of Gladio’s belt.

Gladio chuckles into his mouth, reaching for Prompto’s clothes in turn and smoothing a hand up Prompto’s back, dragging his t-shirt with it until it’s wedged under his armpits. Prompto makes Gladio wait until his belt buckle is undone before raising his arms up and letting the fabric be torn away from his body. Prompto slips his hand beneath the loosened waist of Gladio’s pants and palms at his firm backside.

It’s distracting enough that he doesn’t even realise Gladio’s stripping him bare until he’s lifting his hips absently to have his underwear pulled down and gasping when his bare skin hits the cold countertop.

Gladio chafes his hands up Prompto’s thighs and then steps free of Prompto’s wandering hands. Prompto would complain but Gladio ducks down, just briefly to mouth at Prompto’s cock where it’s sitting firm and hard against his abdomen. When Gladio straightens up again he lifts Prompto bodily off the counter. Prompto squeaks and if he wasn't hard already he certainly would be now.

Gladio only has to take a few steps to get them by the sofa and he lowers Prompto to the ground beside it, his mouth working firmly against Prompto’s throat, teeth and lips working his skin until Prompto can feel the colour blossoming on his pale skin. Prompto wants to return the favour, to feel more of him, but it’s hard to do anything but pant and gasp into the quiet of his apartment, succumbing to the glorious feel of Gladio’s hands and mouth on him again at long last.

But Gladio makes no effort to move things along, content just to squeeze Prompto’s ass rather than attempt to work any part of himself inside it so Prompto raises his own hand to his mouth, using the saliva pooled there to slick up his fingers. As soon as his fingers pop free Gladio pulls his face from Prompto’s neck staring at him with such raw heat that Prompto slowly takes them back into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue in a tease.

Prompto reaches behind himself, rubs a wet finger against his hole to slick it up before starting to slide it inside.

Gladio all but growls, “Where’s your lube?”

“Bedside draw,” Prompto breathes.

Gladio gives him a lingering kiss as he moves away and Prompto turns himself, bending straight over the arm of his couch so he can get a better angle to split himself open. There’s some rustling behind him and then a couple condoms land just in front of him followed shortly by the heavy sound of denim hitting the ground.

Prompto works a finger deeper, moving it around a little to start opening himself up and behind him Gladio mutters a rough, “Fuck.”

When Gladio first walks past him he’s down to his boxers and by the time he’s grabbed the lube from Prompto’s drawer he’s butt naked and stroking his impressive cock with slow steady movements. Gladio’s back at his side - or back, as it were - so fast that Prompto’s barely progressed any further, still just one finger deep. Gladio steps up flush against him, strong thighs up against his ass and his dick spreading his cheeks apart and nudging at his fingers like he wants them out of the way making Prompto groan at the added pressure.

Part of him expects Gladio to just drizzles some lube over his hole and then sit back and watch as Prompto gets himself ready but he doesn’t know why he expects that, not after how attentive he’s been before and all the words he’d typed to Prompto at the start of the week.

Prompto’s skin feels cold when Gladio takes half a step back but then slick fingers are touching his rim and it’s worth it.

“My turn,” Gladio tells him and a series of warm kisses run up his spine. Obediently Prompto slips his hand free.

Prompto waits, hands gripping at the couch cushions instead, condom secure in his palm so he’ll know where it is when the time comes, oddly tense as he waits for Gladio to breach him.

He moans, high and breathless as Gladio slides his first finger inside, slick and warm.

Gladio lets him adjusts, probably easily sensing how much wider his fingers are than Prompto’s before slowly withdrawing and coming back in with a second, edging just the tips in first to gently pull him wider before sliding them inside.

Prompto’s hips jerk when Gladio passes the knuckle feeling incredibly full already. Probably, Prompto acknowledges, because it’s been a while since there was something inside him that’s not his own fingers or cold plastic. And it’s Gladio, with those hands that he’s had innumerable fantasies about. Strong and rough and just so big.

Gladio makes a soothing sound and pats his hip with his dry hand.

“You need me to slow down?” Gladio offers kindly. That hand runs up the length of Prompto’s spine, fingers trailing gently and then spanning the width of his waist.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Prompto begs, distraught at the though, babbling mindlessly, “It’s just - your hands - fuck, Gladio. Please.”

Gladio chuckles, a dark thrilling sound, “Mmm, you really do like my hands, huh?” Prompto might be imagining it but he’s pretty sure he feels Gladio’s cock twitch against his thigh.

Gladio twists his fingers, pads just shy of the magic place inside him and Prompto buries his face into the pillows.

“Fuck. More,” Prompto begs.

But instead of more Gladio pulls back and Prompto left open and waiting for a few moments that stretch out into an eternity. Gladio comes back with two fingers again, pulling them apart a few times before pressing deep and searching inside him -

Gladio brushes against his prostate and Prompto keens, pushing back onto those fingers to feel it again and again, all but mindlessly rubbing his cock against the worn fabric of his couch.

“Please, please, please,” Prompto begs when Gladio doesn’t spread him any wider, doesn’t work another finger in or say fuck it and just start to split him apart with his mammoth cock.

“A little more baby,” Gladio croons and Prompto’s brain almost short circuits at the pet name. Then it almost does it all over again when an extra finger finally pushing inside him and a rumbling groan basically purring from Gladio's throat as he works Prompto apart, “Then I’ll give you everything you want.”

Prompto tries to take what he wants, rocking back onto Gladio’s fingers, fucking himself until Gladio gives in and takes his fingers away with a soft laugh.

“Alright, alright,” Gladio says bending over Prompto’s back and reaching for a condom. Prompto slams it into his hand and Gladio has to smother more laughter in Prompto’s shoulder, delighted - Prompto hopes - by his eagerness.

Prompto holds still while Gladio gets himself ready, almost sighing in relief when Gladio reaches for his ass, holding his cheeks apart -

Gladio breaches him agonisingly slowly, feeling thick and impossibly large despite the fact Prompto stretched almost loose from Gladio's prep. Prompto gasps, chokes on it and needs to hold onto something more concrete than couch cushions so he reaches back to hold himself open for Gladio’s dick as he slowly inches in and out.

Prompto muffles his cries in the cushions, biting down on fabric to try and keep himself in check as Gladio’s thighs come flush with his own.

It’s almost too much. Prompto’s never been this full before, not ever. It’s glorious and wonderful. Perfect. Prompto doesn’t know how he can come back from this, back to his own fingers or a silly toy. Doesn’t know how anyone else could possibly compete.

“Fuck,” Prompto moans, word catching in the middle as Gladio grinds into him.

Gladio’s holding him by both hips Prompto realises when his fingers make little circles against his skin. Prompto clenches around the hardness inside him when Gladio presses a grounding kiss to the back of his neck, an unexpected sprinkle of affection.

Prompto cries out at the first real thrust, loses whatever tiny amount of control he had over his voice as Gladio starts to move in a steady rhythm of thrusts that Prompto returns readily, pushing back and edging the movements almost towards roughness. It’s intense and beautiful, scratching every itch Prompto’s ever had even before Gladio adjusts his stance slightly so his movements rock incessantly against his prostate on every inward move and drag tortuously against it when he retreats once more.

They fuck for what could be minutes or hours, Prompto moaning with abandon every time they come together, the slap of their skin undercutting every cry.

Gladio’s suddenly gripping his hips tighter, pushing and pulling until Prompto’s legs are straighter underneath him and then Gladio’s hand, last remnants of lube still on his fingers, is grabbing Prompto’s dick, neglected until now to start stroking him.

Gladio strokes him efficiently, squeezing under Prompto’s head the way that makes him lose it every time, and the combined assault on his body has Prompto shattering in a wet gasping mess less than a minute later. Gladio’s thrusts turn almost frantic as Prompto goes boneless, barely able to rock against him.

Gladio folds himself over again, chest pressed against the length of Prompto’s spine and arms wrapping around Prompto’s torso to anchor their bodies together as he reaches his end with a rough groan into Prompto’s hair.

Prompto goes from feeling electrified to safe in half a second, Gladio’s weight pressing down on him in what should feel oppressive but actually just feels right, his strong arms an anchor that keeps his mind calm and helps his heart slow down. Gladio’s still inside him but Prompto just feels content and happy as the Shield nuzzles at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

“Wow,” Gladio says, voice rough, “Astrals, you’re a fucking firework.”

Prompto laughs and pets across Gladio’s strong forearm, twisting his head around until they can kiss - zero finesse at the current angle just pure affection and warmth.

“Now I’m hungry,” Prompto admits, giggling to himself.

Gladio begins to extract himself, kissing down Prompto’s spine as he carefully pulls free before padding into Prompto’s bathroom to take care of the mess.

Prompto feels empty without him, cold without the blanket of a body over him. Water runs in the bathroom and he thinks how nice it would be to snuggle on the couch to watch a movie now, maybe curl up in his bed -

Gladio’s going to leave now. He has to, that’s the point.

But Prompto had bought him that sandwich and friends eat together all the time, right?

Prompto moves to be lying on his back as Gladio comes back out of the bathroom, gloriously naked and so handsome it’s almost painful. He smiles at Prompto in a way that stirs something other than arousal in his gut.

Simultaneously hoping for more and denying that hope Prompto takes the towel Gladio passes him and asks, “Want to eat with me before you go?”

Gladio grins broader, “Pants optional?”

Prompto laughs so hard he wheezes, sitting himself up so he can wipe at his stomach.

“Dude, pants are always optional with me,” Prompto assures him.

Sadly though Gladio does in fact reach for his pants pulling both his boxers and jeans on before going to retrieve the food from the fridge. Prompto dresses himself, tugging on a comfy pair of sweats rather than his confining jeans and then surveys the mess they just made of his couch. He wipes up the worst of it with the towel in his hand.

“I have no idea how to fix that,” Gladio admits, settling at the other end of the couch and unpacking the bag onto the coffee table.

Prompto frowns at it for a second before going to retrieve a spray bottle of fabric cleaner from beneath his sink - he and Noct had an accident with pizza sauce just last week so this isn’t even the most obvious damage he’s done to this couch. Prompto sprays it liberally then goes to wash up quickly, settling - through absolutely no choice of his own of course - close to Gladio’s side and away from the wet spot.

“I feel like that’s one of those things Iggy would know how to fix but I don’t wanna know that he knows or admit that I need to know so we’ll just never find out,” Prompto babbles. He feels oddly nervous as Gladio flicks on his Moogleflix and selects a nature documentary with a bright New Today! banner.

Gladio kisses the side of his head, smiling, and passes Prompto his sandwich.

“Knowing Nyx as well as I do I can one hundred percent say that you’re right,” Gladio says, opening his chips.

When they’re done with the food Prompto fetches drinks from his fridge and forks so they can eat their desserts.

“I got a Galahdian apple cake and a mint-chocolate brownie,” he tells Gladio, “Preference.”

“You bought it,” Gladio says quickly, “You choose.”

Prompto fixes Gladio with his best imposing glower. Gladio laughs.

“Mint-chocolate is actually my favourite,” Gladio admits and Prompto beams. For some reason he likes knowing that about Gladio, something personal he would never have learnt had Gladio not told him himself.

Another episode starts while they’re eating the sweets - Duscae at Dusk - and Prompto settles up against Gladio’s side once the food is gone, not realising he’s done it until Gladio’s arm is over his shoulder, fingers gently playing with his hair.

Casual cuddling. Casual cuddling is fine, the lines are still there. That’s something friends do. He and Noct throw arms around each other all the time. Granted they’re both always wearing shirts but being topless is just part of who Gladio is. Prompto’s certainly not going to complain about it.

Prompto presses his cheek into Gladio’s shoulder, pleased to be able to use the hundlegs scuttling across the screen as an excuse to close his eyes and just pretend he’s in a slightly different world for a minute. A world where Gladio stays the night so he can kiss him good morning and maybe walk him to campus holding his hand.

Stupid, he seethes at himself.

“You don’t like bugs?” Gladio teases, tickling his fingers across Prompto’s thigh like the legs of an insect. Prompto traps the hand against his legs so the fingers stop, whining playfully.

“I don’t mind the tiny ones,” Prompto half lies, “But when they stand as tall as I do: no thank you, sir.”

Gladio frees his hand, tickling at Prompto’s ribs instead until he’s breathless from laughter. When Gladio stops he keeps holding Prompto close, large hand resting on his hip and Prompto’s heart refuses to slow down for some reason.

When the episode ends Prompto grabs for the remote and hits pause. Gladio needs to actually leave before Prompto begs him to stay.

“See you later this week?” Gladio asks, moving to stand.

Prompto can’t tell if he’s forcing his own smile or not, “Text me.”

- - -

[Prompto 13:11] dude. i went to buy some patches for my jacket today and the lady saw my wristband and pulled out a secret stash of ‘crown only’ stuff.

[Prompto 13:12] [Image 10057.jpg]

[Prompto 13:12] ‘it’s a beautiful day now watch some bastard fuck it up’

[Prompto 13:13] in case you couldn’t read that yourself

[Noct 13:13] ill give you anything you want if you actually put that on something

[Prompto 13:14] its not iron on and i don’t know how to sew

[Noct 13:15] fuck

-

[Ignis 13:18] Bring your patches and the things you want them attached to next time you have an evening free to spend at Noct’s.

[Ignis 13:19] Also anything that is already patched and I will reinforce the ‘adhesive’ with thread.

[Prompto 13:20] ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ thank you thank you thank you thank you

[Prompto 13:21] though i don’t know when that will be. so busy （´。｀)

[Ignis 13:22] Let me know if you need anything else to help ease your load.

[Prompto 13:23] thanks Iggy xx

[Ignis 13:24] I mean it. It’s no bother to cook extra food and drop it by.

-

[Prompto 13:26] iggy’s too nice and i don’t know how to deal with it

[Noct 13:27] real talk though let him bring you all the gross veggies i don’t want to eat

-

[Gladio 21:08] I feel honour bound to tell you that the third episode of that series is about chocobos.

[Prompto 21:10] (・о・)

[Prompto 21:10] is it the most magical thing you’ve ever seen?

[Gladio 21:11] I started it and then paused to grab a drink, wanna watch together?

[Prompto 21:13] sure!

Prompto actually has to finish some technical drawings for class. A class he absolutely won’t be taking the advanced version of next semester because he definitely doesn’t want to be an engineer or an architect. He's sure that, eventually, he'll be thankful for the extra skills nonetheless.

But he can definitely pop it on in the back ground, leave Gladio waiting a minute or two between responses and manage to get his work done.

Prompto had been playing an ambiance playlist of soothing study sounds but he switches over to his streaming service and gets the episode ready.

[Gladio 21:16] All set?

[Prompto 21:16] hitting play!

Prompto does just that and focuses down on his work as the opening panoramic shot plays and the calm accent of the narrator begins to talk.

Prompto’s phone vibrates and he makes himself count to sixty - measuring something on his paper and then adding the appropriate marks - before he picks it up to respond.

- - -

Prompto’s fairly well rested for once. He’d gone to bed last night not long after the episode had finished, bidding Gladio a goodnight so he wasn’t tempted to stay up with him instead.

Honestly his new mattress topper is probably largely responsible. Prompto needs to think of something nice to do for Iggy to say a proper thank you.

Noct is not so well rested apparently.

Prompto sets his backpack down on the floor and then settles into his place on the bench seat. Carefully he lifts Noct’s hoody where it’s draped over his face, checking to see if he’s actually fallen asleep on his folded arms. Again.

“M’awake,” Noct mumbles.

“Want me to grab coffee?” Prompto offers as Noct sits up, stretching his arms up and wide.

“I already had two,” Noct admits, “If I have another I’ll be ahead of Iggy and then I can’t rag on him for his coffee addiction with good conscience.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

Noct shakes his head, “I had to stay up reading a report on Niflheim trade ready for a council meeting tonight.”

“Sorry,” Prompto says reflexively.

“Why are you sorry?” Noct snorts.

“Whenever something from Niflheim gives you grief I feel guilty,” Prompto admits.

Noct yawns and bluntly states, “That’s dumb.”

Prompto laughs and playfully punches Noct in the arm but lets Noct settle himself back down on the table, clearly unable to resist the chance to rest. Prompto’s not good at being completely idle though so he tugs his phone from his pocket and falls back into texting Gladio after just a couple minutes pretending that wasn’t his plan all along.

[Prompto 11:10] i’m just saying i could definitely hide a chocobo in my apartment and no one would know

[Gladio 11:11] You’re delusional, babe. Chocobos are big and loud and kinda smelly. Your neighbours would work it out within minutes.

[Prompto 11:12] what do you mean smelly?

[Prompto 11:12] i feel personally attacked right now

[Gladio 11:13] The Citadel had some one when I was a kid but they sent them back to the farm when Noctis expressed zero interest in them.

[Gladio 11:14] Trust me, they’re beautiful but they need a tonne of space and they make a load of mess. Stinky mess.

Prompto literally gasps as he reads over the words twice, trying to make sense of this bombshell.

[Prompto 11:15] (◯Δ◯∥) (◣_◢)

[Prompto 11:15] that TRAITOR

[Prompto 11:16] excuse me i just need to give my best friend hell for a minute

Prompto plops his phone onto the table, ignoring it when it buzzes again and give the leg of Noct’s chair and firm shove with his foot.

“Whaa-” Noct mumbles as he’s jostled out of his doze, “The fuck, Prom?”

“You had chocobos!” Prompto nearly yells, jabbing Noct in the side when he doesn’t react as quickly as Prompto would like him to.

“What?” Noct blinks and gives his head a little shake.

“At the Citadel!”

Noct frowns at him, “When I was basically a baby. How do you even know that?”

“Gladio told me,” Prompto says quickly and he watches Noct’s frown deepen just a fraction, glancing at Prompto's phone. Noct opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly.

Eventually he asks, “Why are you mad at me about that?”

“Because you didn’t like them and now they’re gone,” Prompto whines, “Think how easily I could have pet a chocobo if you had them at your Dad’s house. Think.”

Noct snorts, “Dad’s house?”

“You want me to not think of you as a prince these are the nonsense things you have to listen to me say,” Prompto says with an exceptional show of seriousness, “Now don’t change the subject, Noct. You’re indifference has prevented me from meeting my true loves.”

Noct sighs, “I’m very sorry for this major turmoil I caused in our friendship fourteen years before the fact.”

Prompto laughs. His phone goes off again and Noct glances at it. Prompto pointedly does not.

“I’ll try and forgive you,” Prompto assures Noct.

“Can maybe make it up to you,” Noct muses, “If we can get out of the city this summer.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto asks keeping his voice calm even as his body burns with excitement.

Out of the city - Prompto’s only imagined. Insomnia is amazing and Prompto wouldn’t want to live anywhere else but those hours he spent on a bus from Galdin, face pressed against the window to take in all the vibrant green landscape that gave way to dust and rocks have been burnt into his mind for hours of introspection.

“I’ve been camping outside the city with Gladio and Iggy a couple times,” Noct explains, “We could make a whole trip of it, spend a couple days at the Chocobo ranch in Duscae.”

“Shut up.”

Noct laughs, “My security will have to sign off on it but that’s like seventy-five percent Gladio’s call so I’m sure we can convince him.”

“Ask him,” Prompto begs, “Ask him please.”

Outside the city, Prompto thinks, where there are unending stars and mountains. Trees and flowers and animals and everything.

“You ask him,” Noct suggests and he breaks off to yawn again, “You probably have a better chance of convincing him than I do.”

Noct braces his arm on the table and rests his chin in his hand looking at Prompto in a way that is somehow both impassive and daring at the same time.

Prompto seizes his phone, skims the messages waiting for him and starts typing at once.

[Gladio 11:17] Try not to get me in trouble.

[Gladio 11:21] Prom?

[Gladio 11:28] Baby, come back.

[Gladio 11:30] Starting to worry you’re murdering him. Which, as you know, would make me suddenly unemployed so please don’t

[Prompto 11:31] he says we can all go to the chocobo ranch in the summer!

[Prompto 11:31] but you have to sign off on it

[Prompto 11:32] pretty pretty please gladio (人･∀･)(♥ω♥*)

[Gladio 11:33] Stop with the face, of course we can go.

Prompto grins, beams really, fidgeting in his seat happily as Noct smiles a smaller smile, not having to check what the reply had been.

[Prompto 11:34] （*＾3＾）

-

Curious, Prompto spent the time he batch cooks a few dinners that afternoon also watching videos on the internet. Wiz from his eponymous ranch has a large collection videos available for view where he details just what it takes to give his small flock of chocobos an amazing home.

It’s kind of, sort of, absolutely disgusting.

They're still cute though.

[Prompto 16:31] okay, fine, i’m convinced. no chocobo （；＿；）

[Gladio 16:32] There are tonnes better, more logical pets you can get.

[Prompto 16:33] tis all but a dream anyhow. super strict no pet policy in my apartment

[Gladio 16:34] Ah babe, that sucks, I’m sorry. Was just starting to picture you with some kind of rambunctious pup.

[Prompto 16:35] it would make my life complete

[Gladio 16:36] I’d love a dog actually, always wanted one. Something big enough for me to pet without breaking its spine.

[Prompto 16:37] you not allowed either?

[Gladio 16:38] No I am, I just don’t actually spend much time here so I don’t think it would be fair.

[Prompto 16:41] oh

[Gladio 16:41] Freckles?

Of course Gladio doesn’t spend much time at his apartment. Why would he need to?

Prompto can’t believe he’s been dumb enough to think Gladio’s just sitting around waiting whenever Prompto can’t meet up or has to cancel a hook-up. Gladio’s incredible and he’s probably got a string of numbers in his phone - a list of equally gorgeous people just waiting to pick up every opportunity Prompto squanders.

He’s annoyed that he’s hurt by the idea. Gladio doesn’t owe him anything, not any kind of loyalty that stops him from sleeping with anyone else as he pleases. Prompto shakes his head, checks on his curry sauce and pushes down his dumb feelings so he can respond.

[Prompto 16:44] hey if you do get one i promise to take it on all my morning runs with me

[Gladio 16:45] I’ll hold you to that.

- - -

Prompto feels sick. An actual physical nausea that makes him think he might actually upchuck all over his note cards.

[Prompto 14:21] i think i’m gonna be sick

[Prompto 14:21] or pass out

[Noct 14:22] youre not gonna do either of those things. youre gonna own this presentation and then iggys gonna drive us back to yours where well order whatever food you want and we can just take a few hours chill before the math cramming starts

[Noct 14:23] ill even let you beat me at kings knight

[Prompto 14:24] let me? there’s no letting me you little bitch

[Noct 14:25] wanna bet?

[Prompto 14:26] funny how you always forget the times i grind your party to dust but act like its skill when you roll good rng and steal a win

[Noct 14:27] now whos being a little bitch

“Argentum, Caine, Challis, Pickens, Stoneham and Tuld - you’re up.”

Prompto hates that his name is first, like he’s somehow in charge but he hates even more that his group had barely bungled through one test run of this presentation as a group this morning. Pickens had been late to that anyway, rolling in twenty minutes before they were due to finish in the library and acting like his grade meant nothing to him.

Maybe it does, Prompto thinks. Maybe his future won’t be put in jeopardy if someone here fucks up too badly in the next twenty minutes.

-

[Noct 15:01] me and iggy are by the front gate

[Noct 15:08] prom?

[Prompto 15:13] sorry. i’m on my way now

[Noct 15:15] you okay?

[Prompto 15:15] i’m fine

[Noct 15:16] prom. you might as well tell me now, you know iggy will sniff out whatever it is when you get here

[Prompto 15:17] i was sick

[Prompto 15:17] but least it was after the presentation and into a toilet rather than all over myself

[Noct 15:18] i take back the offer that well eat whatever you want if what you want is pizza

Prompto pulls open the car door and leans down to pout at Noct.

“Why not?”

“Dude, you know cheese makes you feel sick,” Noct points out.

“Hi Iggy,” Prompto says sliding into his seat and buckling his seat belt. He turns back to Noct, “Different kind of sick.”

Noct opens his mouth to argue but Ignis beats him to it, “You’ve been unwell?”

“Nerves got the better of me,” Prompto admits. Ignis frown but starts the engine to begin the drive back to Prompto’s.

“Perhaps I should come cook you something,” Ignis muses, “Kind to the stomach.”

“I’m fine,” Prompto enthuses, undercut with Noct’s fervent, “Do not cancel on Nyx.”

Ignis chuckles, “Well I can tell where I’m not wanted.”

“It’s not that,” Prompto promises, once again overlapped by Noctis, “Damn straight.”

“Noct,” Prompto groans but both he and Ignis are laughing.

“Noctis is right though,” Ignis says, “Give yourself a chance to recover. Limited dairy, please.”

Prompto starts to speak but Ignis rushes on, “Nothing too spicy from the Galahdian place either. Your mouth might be able to take it but your stomach won’t thank you.”

Prompto pouts again.

Noct leans towards him and fake whispers, “If we order from Portuttle Hut we can get that ice cream made from coconut cream.”

Prompto perks up.

“Bring a pint of the lemon ripple back for me, won’t you?” Ignis asks.

- - -

“You sure you don’t mind?” Prompto asks Eli for whatever number of times it is now.

A lot.

“Kid,” Eli says, “Your boss is an ass-hole, I get it. Trust me on that one.”

Prompto whines, “He’s supposed to give me forty-eight hours notice. But I can’t complain or maybe he’ll fire me.”

“Stop stressing please,” Eli teases, “You’re raising my blood pressure.”

Prompto laughs, grateful and relieved.

“You let Gladio know you aren’t going to be here?”

“No,” Prompto admits. He’d toyed with the idea, written a message and deleted it again. But they’re not boyfriends and they hadn’t made any arrangements for today so it’d ultimately felt silly to tell him. Just a fanciful idea on Prompto’s part that Gladio would even care.

Just because they don’t have any plans today doesn’t mean that Gladio doesn’t have any. With someone else.

“I’m gonna try and get that filing and stuff done before I go,” Prompto tells Eli, slipping into the back office.

Where he immediately loses track of time.

It’s gone two when he rushes back out to the main shop, already knowing he’s not going to have time to eat before his shift starts.

Prompto reaches for his bag and Eli glances up at the clock, rolling his eyes.

“See you later, Blondie,” Eli calls as Prompto bustles through the door.

Prompto pulls to a halt just shy of walking directly into Gladio.

“You’re leaving?” Gladio asks, and Prompto might be imagining it but he sounds disappointed.

“I had to switch some shifts and stuff because of school,” Prompto tells him, half lying. He wants Noct to not find out about his boss this time, the anger on Prompto’s behalf is actually sort of intimidating, “I’m doing Wednesday afternoon to make up for it. But I’ll be here next week, promise.”

Gladio pouts, a genuinely adorable jut of his lip and Prompto glances behind him quickly to see if Eli is staring at them through the window - he’s not - before he steps up to kiss Gladio’s cheek apologetically.

“I wanted to take you home again,” Prompto breathes, “More than anything.” Gladio might have other options, sure, but maybe Prompto can keep him keen enough to come around as often as Prompto can manage.

Gladio sighs like the weight of the world just settled on his shoulders and Prompto grins.

“Starting to think you don’t like spending time with me,” Gladio teases.

“You know that’s not true,” Prompto promises, assuming Gladio can’t have forgotten how enthusiastically Prompto responds to his touch, “Top three activities I swear.”

“I’ll take it, I guess,” Gladio grumbles.

“Beat out Mario Kart and everything,” Prompto tells him.

“Think you can pencil me in this week?” Gladio asks, then insisting, “I miss you.”

Prompto blinks.

That can’t be true.

It’s not -

It’s not fair for Gladio to say stuff like this when he probably doesn’t mean it the way it sounds. Gladio maybe misses his ass or his mouth but probably not the things he says or does beyond sex. That’s not what they are to each other.

A group of people start to walk past and the noise pulls Prompto from his reverie.

“I’ll try,” Prompto says dropping his voice so passers-by can’t hear him, “Depends if you think you’ll be satisfied by a ten minute romp in the back of your car or not.”

Gladio rolls his eyes and drops a kiss on the side of his head, “Go to work before you miss it and I don’t get a tattoo today.”

- - -

Noct fidgets beside him.

Not a restless fidget but a no matter how I move I’m uncomfortable fidget.

Prompto glances at Noct’s face as the prince tries to stay still long enough to note down the math problem the professor just wrote across the board taking note of the pained frown pinching his forehead.

“You okay? Prompto whispers.

Noct gaze flicks towards him and then back again, “Just ready to be done here.”

Prompto frowns too now, because that’s a lie if he’s ever heard one.

“Noct…”

“Drop it,” Noct snaps.

The girls sitting ahead of them turn to glare at them over their shoulders and Noct attempts to sink lower in his seat but sits up again abruptly with a wince.

Prompto stays silent, worried and a little hurt by his tone.

A few minutes pass in which Prompto manages to get distracted by a tricky bit of long division and doesn’t notice the soft tearing sound from beside him until Noct is sliding half a sheet of paper over onto his desk.

I’m sorry it reads.

Prompto quickly scratches back it’s okay :)

Noct shoots him a grateful smile and Prompto dares to write but you’re in pain

Noct hesitates and then -

a bit but its not so bad, I can manage

Prompto frowns wondering how Noct is supposed to manage chronic pain without any help.

Shouldn’t we call Iggy? Prompto writes, adding a few extra question marks for good measure.

Noct shakes his head, reaching for the paper. He’ll worry for no good reason. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Promise :)

Prompto drops it. For now.

-

They’re heading towards the library - both of them have an annoying gap between afternoon classes that’s not long enough to warrant going home but is also too long to spend just shooting the shit - when Prompto notices something odd about Noct’s gait beside him.

He drops back a little, pretending to be looking for something in his bag and it only takes Prompto one and a half seconds to clock what’s wrong. Abandoning his ruse he rushes forward, reaching for Noct’s arm like he can help.

“What are you doing?” Noct laughs.

“You’re limping,” Prompto says, “Let me -”

Noct’s face falls, “I’m not.”

“Noctis -”

“I’m not,” he insists, pulling away, “See.”

Noct takes a few steps away from him and he’s right, his gait is fine now, corrected so the steps are careful but like the same as his normal ones. There’s a bit of panic on his face though that Prompto can’t quite place, but he suspects it’s not because of the pain or the limp but something he, Prompto, is doing.

“Okay,” Prompto, “Okay, sorry. My mistake.”

Noct smiles, just a little, and waves him forward.

“Think you can quiz for my ethics class? I think we might have a pop quiz later.”

Prompto might not be able to fix Noct’s back for him or make him feel better about anything that’s going on but this he absolutely can do. His own work he can handle later.

“You bet,” Prompto says, leading them away.

-

“You going home straight after class?” Prompto asks Noct as they pack up their bags.

Noct shakes his head, “Citadel. Gonna spend a little time with my Dad and then I’ve got training with Gladio.”

“Really?” Prompto asks, surprised and concerned.

“Dad wants to start having regular dinners but we’re having schedule issues. This is a good stop gap for now,” Noct explains absolutely missing the cause of Prompto’s surprise. Or, potentially, wilfully ignoring it.

Noct can’t train with his back or his leg like this, surely? Gladio will notice and put a stop to it, right? Or will Noct continue to cover it up like he is now, hurting himself more just to save face.

“That’ll be nice,” Prompto manages to say, “Regular family time for you guys.”

“Hope it works out,” Noct mumbles.

“If it’s possible Iggy will manage it,” Prompto assures him.

They part ways for class and Prompto barely pays attention through the whole session. His teacher has a bad habit of assigning reading and then only covering the information covered in that chapter during class. It’s handy because Prompto can sometimes work on other homework in the time - attendance in mandatory, obviously - but also it sucks because there’s nothing else to occupy his mind but his worry for Noctis.

He can’t text Iggy, he knows that, because he’d probably come down here at once and pull Noct from class. Sure he’d do it in a non-obvious way that stops Noct from getting too embarrassed but his best friend would still hate it. Be mad at Prompto about it, when he found out.

Ignis is not, however, the only person looking out for Noct’s well-being that Prompto is in contact with.

It crosses a line. Both in his relationship with Gladio and Noct, but Prompto has to say something, has to at least try and stop Noct from getting hurt again.

He’s still not entirely sure it’s the right decision but he pulls out his phone and texts Gladio.

-

[Iggy 18:20] Thank you for alerting Gladio to Noct’s condition today. He can be stubborn and I appreciate your intervention.

[Prompto 18:24] so i did the right thing?

[Iggy 18:25] Of course. Noct might not see it that way immediately but he’ll appreciate it soon enough. I promise.

[Prompto 18:26] thanks iggy

-

[Noct 20:53] i wanna be mad at you

[Prompto 21:54] but you’re not? *crosses fingers*

[Noct 21:55] nah.

[Noct 21:56] my physio gave me a massage and i feel brand new. thanks for caring.

[Prompto 21:57] yeah? you feel better?

[Noct 21:58] i feel like all my muscles are made of chewed up bubblegum but gladio says thats fine and ill feel better in the morning

[Noct 21:59] iggy might keep me back from school tho

[Prompto 22:00] ah I’m glad it worked. if you need me to get anything for you let me know!

[Noct 22:01] think you can come over after if i don’t get to come in? i might die of boredom if not

[Prompto 22:02] duh

- - -

Prompto probably shouldn’t have spent the afternoon at Noct’s, not with his coursework piling up and work being unusually stressful now his boss has extended opening hours to midnight.

It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, there’s no feasible way to work in some time to see Gladio and with every day that passes he worries that their last time together was genuinely their last time together.

[Gladio 12:30] Your schedule sucks.

[Prompto 12:31] tell me about it

[Prompto 12:31] i’m dying here

[Gladio 12:32] What about that 10 minute romp you mentioned?

[Prompto 12:33] i literally have 20mins spare before my evening seminar at 8 and that’s pretty much this week in a nutshell

[Prompto 12:34] don’t tempt me though, it takes all my self control not to call you over at 2am when i’m all strung out from studying.

[Gladio 12:35] I’ll be there.

[Prompto 12:36] later or at 2am? （＞ｙ＜）

[Gladio 12:37] Both.

Prompto doesn’t think anything of that, doesn’t get his hopes up over the comment, just assumes it was a throw away thing born of frustration.

-

[Gladio 19:31] I’m in west parking lot, under the big tree <3

Prompto stares at his phone genuinely dumbfounded.

There’s no way.

He drains the last of his coffee, tossing the cup into the nearest trash can and hurrying off to the parking lot. The west one is closest to the art buildings and he doesn’t know if Gladio knows that or if it was just a lucky guess.

Prompto opens the door to Gladio’s car in a state of minor shock, he thinks.

“Holy shit. I was sure you were kidding, even after you let me know you were here,” he tells Gladio.

Gladio laughs and admits, “Well I’m glad you’re curious enough to come check anyway.”

Prompto all but stares ad Gladio, the strong line of his jaw obscured by a little more beard than normal and his eyes particularly golden coloured in the glow of the street lamp filtering through the trees. Gladio’s so out of his league, so ridiculously impressive in every way Prompto has no idea how he managed to worm his way into this care at this very moment.

“Hi,” Prompto murmurs softly.

“Hey yourself,” Gladio replies, pointing at a paper bag on the back seat, “I bought you some food, in case I was cutting into your dinner time.”

Between Noct and Iggy, Prompto’s pretty used to being taken care of nowadays yet somehow the gesture does something to him. Instead of exploring that feeling he tosses Gladio a grin and tells him, “Ah, thanks Big Guy, I can take it into class with me. My professor’s chill like that.”

“Wanna say thanks properly?” Gladio teases, patting his thigh in invitation.

Now that Prompto knows what to do with, eagerly climbing across the console so he’s sat on Gladio’s thighs, his own spread across the breadth of Gladio's lap and smoothing his palms over his impressive chest so he can brace himself to lean in for the first kiss.

Gladio holds his waist and cups his face, thumb tracing the edge of his mouth as they kiss oddly slow, learning again the press of each other’s lips and the glide of tongues.

Prompto pulls away to take a needed breath and sigh contentedly, “That’s better.”

Gladio’s chest rumbles with a laugh as he presses forward to kiss him again, hands digging into Prompto’s waist in a possessive squeeze that makes Prompto whine.

Prompto retaliates by groping across Gladio’s chest, hand trailing down over the definition of his abs. Wanting to tease and feel he moves the hand down further to feel between Gladio’s thighs.

It’s with some shock and deep surge of want that he feels Gladio half hard in his pants, dick starting to press against the seam.

Prompto’s done thorough with Gladio’s dick, worked his mouth wide around him and swallowed him down as deep as he can go. Prompto wonders how fast he could get him off if he tried.

“I wish we had more time,” Prompto mutters, pressing messy kisses to Gladio’s neck as he considers their options. Gladio’s seat is probably as far back as it can go, but Prompto could lean over from the passenger side. There aren’t any other cars around and they’re sheltered by the tree, hidden by the evening sky.

“I don’t think we can both, but -” Prompto says, quickly checking the time just to be sure and deciding that maybe, wondering if the edge of danger might even help, “I think I can get you off.” He passes his hand over the front of Gladio’s jeans again, rubbing in short little motions until Gladio grabs his wrist and pulls it away.

Gladio loops Prompto’s arm back over his shoulder and pulls them chest to chest, hip to hip to grind their arousals together.

“Both of us, or neither,” Gladio says firmly and it’s the least painful rejection Prompto’s ever gotten.

Which means he’s disappointed but not mad when he sighs and asks, “Think about me later?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Gladio swears, kissing him again and so deeply Prompto’s toes curl inside his boots.

Gladio takes the opportunity to squeeze Prompto’s ass, thoroughly feeling the curve of it, digging fingertips into the top of his thighs as they make out like needy teenagers until the skin around Prompto’s mouth is red and irritated from the scruff of Gladio’s beard.

Prompto’s phone chimes softly, his five minute alert for classes to keep him on track when he gets distracted.

“Shit,” Prompto mumbles, scooting back on Gladio’s knees to get some space, “I’m gonna have to start my art in society lecture with a raging boner.”

“Sorry,” Gladio says, not sounding sorry at all. He presses his thumb to the corner of Prompto’s mouth, cupping his jaw.

“Worth it,” Prompto assures him.

Gladio tugs his upper body forward again to press one last kiss to his abused mouth.

“Be free soon,” he begs.

“I might actually combust if I can’t be,” Prompto laughs, only half joking.

He really might.

- - -

Finally Prompto gets a reprieve. A few hours of magical free time that no one has any claim on but himself. Not Prompto’s classes, not his job, not Ignis’ brutal but efficient study plan. Just a few hours the evening before one of his practical exams.

Which means he won’t even have to feel guilty about not studying.

[Prompto 19:11] tell me you’re free tomorrow. 7?

[Gladio 19:15] Would that we could, gorgeous. You’re going to get a text from Noct any second.

-

[Noct 19:16] burgers tomorrow. well pick you up at 7

[Prompto 19:17] noct. cmon. what if i had plans

[Noct 19:18] gladio said he was free

[Prompto 19:19] i can’t argue with that, i suppose.

-

[Prompto 19:20] he’s lucky i like him so much

[Gladio 19:21] Tell me about it. Maybe I’ll give you a ride home though, yeah? If it doesn’t go so late.

[Prompto 19:22] please and thank you

-

[Noct 20:48] you know you can say no to me right?

[Prompto 20:49] what? dude, of course i do

[Noct 20:49] i mean it. i wont be mad

[Noct 20:50] if you want to hang out with just gladio tomorrow thats okay

[Noct 20:50] if you ever want to not do something i do you can just say so

[Prompto 20:51] noct, buddy, i’m super hyped to get to hang out with you in the absence of textbooks tomorrow. nothing would please me more

[Noct 20:52] you sure?

[Prompto 20:53] i’m a terrible liar. you know that.

[Noct 20:53] youre also the nicest person ever and i dont wanna take advantage of that accidentally or otherwise

[Prompto 20:54] noct. listen to me. you’re my best friend.

[Prompto 20:54] that trumps opportunity for dick. every time. even gladios

[Noct 20:55] dude.

[Prompto 20:56] and let me tell you that’s saying something i assure you

[Noct 20:27] dude. no. please. i get it.

[Noct 20:27] ill willingly listen to you talk about dicks as long as they arent attached to my oldest friends.

[Prompto 20:28] huh. i bet iggy’s packing too

[Noct 20:29] PROMPTO

[Noct 20:29] STOP

[Prompto 20:30] ψ(｀∇´)ψ （☆ω☆*）

[Prompto 20:31] #sorrynotsorry

[Noct 20:31] i think i just had a heart attack

[Prompto 20:32] where are we going tomorrow?

[Noct 20:33] some retro place I never remember the name of

[Noct 20:33] but it has pinball

[Prompto 20:34] yessssssssssss

- - -

“Triangles freak me out,” Prompto admits to Ignis as they walk from the car to door of the restaurant.

“Trigonometry can be tricky,” Ignis concurs kindly, “I’m happy to help you out at any time.”

“That’d be so cool Iggy, thanks. You’re a much better teacher than our professor,” Prompto enthuses.

Ignis chuckles, “There’s something to be said for the benefit of one on one tuition.”

Prompto hears a scuffle behind him and looks over his shoulder just in time to see Gladio rough up Noct’s hair in a gentle headlock, letting him go before Noct can even really start to fight back. Gladio catches his eye and winks. Prompto blushes, grinning back and happy Noct’s distracted fixing his hair.

As burgers go they’re pretty great. Not as good as Forresters but several leaps ahead of Kenny’s and the pre-frozen deep fried horrors Prompto used to serve up in Gralea. The waitress pushes him pretty hard to add cheese to his burger, flustering him to the point where he almost gives in, only backing off when Gladio clears his throat pointedly.

Still, the food is delicious and Prompto’s full with half his fries left, offering them up to Gladio and letting himself be dragged willingly off to the pinball machines in the corner.

“You wanna come back to mine after?” Noct asks, sliding some coins into the slot.

Prompto considers it, thinking of Ignis’ offer to help with this new mathematical hell he’s found himself in.

But also -

“Gladio might be coming over for a thing,” Prompto says.

Though Gladio didn’t bring his own car so maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he made other plans.

“A thing?” Noct asks, eyebrow arched.

“I was explicitly told not to mention his dick, so…”

Noct elbows him in the side but the distraction makes him lose concentration and his ball slides right past the paddles.

“Oops,” Prompto teases.

Noct rolls his eyes but he flubs the next one too, stepping away with a groan and gesturing for Prompto to take a turn.

“See if you can do better,” Noct mutters.

Prompto does and doesn’t do better, he lasts longer than Noct did but racks up a pitiful amount of points that don't actually surpass Noct’s in anyway.

It’s a nice way to spend half an hour though, shoulder to shoulder with Noct as the two of them continuously fail to succeed in anyway at this generic pinball machine and laughing at these inconsequential failures.

Noctis sighs when his hand comes back from his pocket empty, the last coin already in the machine.

“We should probably head back anyway,” Noct says, “I need to do some work. Ugh. That math worksheet.”

Prompto groans sympathetically, “Don’t remind me.”

“You know Iggy’s gonna be over for a bit, we could sneaky get them done with his help,” Noct suggests - quickly tacking on, “Or not, your choice.”

It’s a tempting offer, the help, but more tempting is a night with Gladio. Prompto’s barely had time take care of himself since their little meet up in Gladio’s car and he’s been constantly wound as tight as the moment he climbed back off his lap ever since.

“Tempting,” Prompto admits.

It would be easier, of course, if Prompto felt confident enough to head over to Gladio now and just ask if he was spending the night alone or not but in the brightly lit restaurant, face to face, with Noct and Iggy within earshot to overhear he just can’t.

“But next time?” Noct teases.

Prompto nods and Noct turns away from the game finally to lead them back to where Gladio and Ignis are still waiting in their booth. Their conversation seems oddly heated, from here, and Prompto wonders what he and Noct missed.

Then they take two steps closer and he finds out.

“- we’re keeping it casual okay. He’s a killer lay, if you must know, it’s why I keep going back. We have fun together, no strings, no attachments. It’s what we both want.”

They’re talking about him.

Noctis stops walking and shoots Prompto a look that seems angry, confused and hurt all on his behalf. Prompto doesn’t really know how he feels. It’s not like this is brand new information, he knows this, he’s been telling himself this for weeks now.

What he doesn’t like is Noct getting all worked up over this. Again. Whatever he and Gladio do shouldn’t be affecting Noct at all, it’s why he wanted it to pass by his radar, completely unnoticed. He tugs at the sleeve of Noct’s t-shirt, hoping to loosen the tight fold of his arms and let him know it’s okay.

“We’re ready to go home,” Noctis tells Ignis, tone short, “Prom’s coming back to mine to study for a bit first.”

So much for letting Prompto decides what he does with his own time. But under the circumstances he understands, and the opportunity for damage control is undeniably useful even if the manner by which he’s been given it is frustrating.

Maybe he’ll be able to talk to Gladio too. Let him know that Prompto’s -

That he’s fine, he thinks, probably.

Ignis drains his coffee, “Of course. Would you still like my help going over some math work?”

Noct’s face doesn’t crack but Prompto seizes the opportunity and says, “Please, Iggy. Thanks.”

“We can drop Gladio off on the way,” Noct states determinedly and Prompto has to try really hard not to roll his eyes.

The silence on the ride back is a little on the awkward side, Ignis valiantly trying to keep the conversation going and Prompto seizes every conversation thread he offers up, chattering away until he realises no one else has anything to say.

It’d probably be easier if Noct and Gladio weren’t in the backseat together, neither speaking much and Noct refusing to even look over at him.

Prompto waits until Gladio’s bid them all a slightly stilted goodnight - shooting Prompto a look that can only be described as regretful - before turning to stare at Noct over the back of his seat.

“Noct,” he and Iggy say at once.

“He’s an ass-hole,” Noct responds quickly, “No one gets to talk about you that way.”

“Noctis,” Ignis scolds gently, pulling the car back onto the road.

“Dude,” Prompto says, a touch more gently, “He gave me a compliment.”

Noct snorts, an angry little huff, “He was so dismissive of you. I have no idea how you think that was nice.”

Prompto shrugs, unsure of what to say.

Prompto isn’t really anything to Gladio at this point. Nothing more than a killer lay. Dismissive is probably right. Gladio certainly seems better at keeping the distance in their relationship, most of the time. Sure he seems to blur the lines while they’re together, making their actual encounters toe the line of what casual really means.

But maybe Gladio can do that because he so securely knows what Prompto is to him.

Noct deflates slightly, “If you don’t want to come over, I get it.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Prompto tells him, “Yeah - I’m really upset you give a shit about me. Seriously.”

Noct smiles at him and yeah, Prompto’s disappointed to have had his vague plans scuppered but it’s hard to mind too much when he knows it comes from a place of caring. There’s always another day, when exams are over and everything settles down again.

Gladio will still be interested.

Maybe.

-

Prompto has a good evening with Noct, they smash out the worksheets, get Iggy to check them over, correct their mistakes and then boot up Noct’s console for another few hours where all that matters is keeping their characters alive.

But he just can’t settle when he gets back to his apartment. He keeps thinking about Gladio, the way he’d looked getting out of Iggy’s car and the fact that if he and Noct had approached just a minute later Gladio might be here now, working his way inside Prompto’s body and unravelling the tight thread inside him, that’s been building up over the last two weeks.

Prompto doesn’t want him to be upset either, not by Noct’s dismissal on Prompto’s behalf, not when he never wanted it in the first place.

It’s late. The latest he’s ever initiated a conversation with Gladio but he won’t be able to sleep if he just leaves it. He probably won’t get a response but maybe he’ll be able to settle knowing he tried.

[Prompto 23:51] sorry about noct earlier

[Prompto 23:51] i feel like i’ve said that before

[Gladio 23:55] Don’t be. I’m sorry if what I said bothered you too.

He really didn’t expect Gladio to be awake and somehow this tiny amount of contact is enough to have him so far from sleep he’s surprised he hasn’t hit the ceiling. Even his dick wakes up, twitching in interest at the mere idea of Gladio.

[Prompto 23:56] i found out i was a killer lay. why would i be bothered?

[Gladio 23:57] Just checking we were still on the same page. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.

Knowing Gladio likes fucking him is not a thing that's ever going to hurt his feelings. Being left alone to deal with this sudden surge of arousal might be literally painful though.

Prompto kicks away his blankets and tugs his boxers down around his thighs. With one hand he takes a hold of his cock, stroking himself to full hardness for a picture.

[Prompto 23:58] you worry too much

[Prompto 23:59] [Image 11675.jpg]

[Prompto 23:59] come be casual with me?

[Gladio 00:00] I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Holy fuck, Freckles.

Ten minutes. Prompto can work with ten minutes.

Blindly he reaches into his bedside table feeling around until his hand touches a bottle of lube, depositing it on the bed by his hip and rummaging in the drawer again until he grasps smooth plastic, pulling free old faithful.

It’s not particularly long, but it had three intensity settings and splits him wider than three of his own fingers can manage. It’s one of the few things to travel from Niflheim with him, Prompto unwilling to part with it when it cost more than he cares to admit even though it was only available lurid green or dark purple.

Prompto’s a little careless with the lube, getting a messy smear across his thigh as hooks his elbow around his knee to open himself up to his own fumbling hands. He knows exactly how much he can take though, how fast he can push himself without pain, exactly the moment he’s ready to work in his second and third fingers.

“Nngh,” he groans stroking along his own walls, pressing the pads of his fingers into that spot inside him so his cock jumps in his hands, a sticky thread of pre-come connecting his head to his belly.

It would be too easy to come like this, Prompto knows, just press against all his sensitive parts and draw his orgasm out in a handful of minutes but he wants more.

Prompto pulls his fingers free and gives his cock a squeeze that's just tootight to be pleasurable, keeping himself way away from the edge.

It wouldn’t do to get himself worked up along with open and come in two seconds flat when Gladio gets here.

He slicks up his vibrator and slots the blunt tip against his entrance, grinding the width against his rim to work it in. It is tapered, but not in a way that makes for smooth penetration, just enough that it looks more realistic - as realistic as purple plastic can be - but Prompto kind of likes that, the initial stretch severe enough that Prompto can really feel it, a fairly good approximation for what it’s like to be taken roughly apart by a real dick.

Prompto pushes it inside with a breathless gasp, holding his leg up higher, pressed almost flat against his chest.

Normally he’d be flicking the switch so it comes to life, a slow buzz against his walls that he slowly ramps up until he’s pressing the highest setting directly into his prostate and coming in heaving spurts against his own torso.

But not today, today he keeps it quiet, pressing it deep and just pulling it in and out in smooth steady moves that keep him there but never push him over.

There’s a knock on his door.

Prompto wrenches the toy free, wiping it and his hands hastily with tissues before storing it back in the drawer where it lives to be cleaned properly later. Quickly he festoons himself in a blanket on the off chance anyone happens to be walking by and rushes to the front door.

He doesn’t say hello, just grabs Gladio’s tanktop and pulls him back towards the bed. Prompto tosses the blanket on the floor and lays himself down on the mattress, arching his back to elongate his figure as Gladio’s eyes rake over his form heatedly - greedily.

Prompto feels powerful again - desirable- with Gladio’s eyes on him and he smirks as Gladio hurries out of his own clothes, dumping them haphazardly before crawling onto the bed to cover Prompto’s body with his own.

Prompto goes in for a kiss, not giving Gladio any leeway to take over, palming over the dick lying half hard against his hip, working it into the steel flesh he needs.

“I’m all ready for you,” Prompto tells him, speaking the words into his mouth.

Gladio looks sceptical so of course he has to check, has to test him with his fingers and slick him up even more until Prompto’s hole is almost sloppy with it, teasing Prompto’s chest with his teeth and his tongue and Prompto can’t take it anymore, using the hand not tangled in Gladio’s hair to bring the condom to his mouth and tear into the packet.

Prompto wonders what it would be like to feel Gladio without the thin sheath of latex, fingers rolling it down carefully as Gladio pulls back enough to let him work.

Amazing, probably. Considering how good it feels with it there.

And then Gladio is spreading Prompto open, one knee hooked over Gladio’s shoulder and the other being pushed back towards his own, finally finally finally working himself inside Prompto until he’s pressing his thighs to Prompto’s ass and the blond is moaning from the fullness, trying to grind up against him for absolutely everything Gladio can give him.

Gladio gives it to him, fucking him almost ruthlessly in a rhythm that has Prompto moaning wildly as his bed frame creaks, rattling against the wall. He even bites gently at Prompto’s collarbone, roughly telling Prompto to touch himself before the teeth turn slightly less gentle, blooming red across his skin.

It’s so so good, better than the last time, even though the angle should be less obviously satisfying, and Prompto can’t slow himself down when the pleasure boils in his gut, white hot and encompassing until Prompto tosses his head back and milks own release from his dick with rough quick jerks, spurred on by the width and the length and the movement of Gladio inside of him.

Gladio fucks out his own release in a short burst of powerful arrhythmic thrusts, groaning from deep down in his chest and Prompto closes his eyes to imagine that release flooding out inside him, hot and wet to make him even more full than before.

And then it happens again. That bizarre feeling of safety that settles over him like a blanket - like Gladio’s body still over his - and calms the anxious thoughts in his mind that he hadn’t even realised were still there.

Prompto wiggles so he can try and get his arms around Gladio’s shoulders, embrace him back but Gladio’s suddenly moving away, to settle on his side next to him with an arm lazily around Prompto’s waist.

Prompto blinks, feeling strangely emotional in a way he can’t place and busies himself by grabbing the tissues to clean up the mess on his torso. A shower would be better but he’s bonelessly tired now and too comfortable for words with Gladio’s warm body all but cradling him in his bed little bed.

Gladio removes his condom, the two of them tossing all the waste at Prompto’s bin. He doesn’t get up like Prompto was expecting, but stays there at his side gently caressing the length of Prompto’s body, flushed and dewy with sweat, from his knees to the base of his neck. Prompto absorbs the affection silently, greedily, eyelids fluttering until its too much and he has to turn his head and kiss Gladio before his mouth does something stupid and regrettable.

He keeps back all the words he wants to says, pressing them into Gladio’s mouth instead.

I like you. Please stay. I want more. Don’t leave me. Please don’t get tired of me.

Gladio pulls back, to breath maybe and brushes their noses together.

“I gotta get to sleep,” Prompto blurts sleepily, not sure how much of this he can take before he cracks and spills his guts.

He’s dumb and stupid. Needy and irrational. But he doesn’t want this to end now, not because he’s getting all messed up in his feelings. Maybe he won’t even feel this way tomorrow, maybe he’s just tired right now. He always feels things different when he’s tired.

“But if you want to use the shower before you go that’s cool,” Prompto tells him, confused as to why Gladio still hasn’t moved yet, “You won’t keep me up.”

“Oh,” Gladio says, tone surprisingly cold.

Prompto opens his eyes, confused but Gladio leans in to kiss him again before he can work out what’s going on with. Prompto sinks into the kiss, this last exchange all but forgotten by the time they separate again.

Gladio slips off the bed and Prompto mumbles, “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Quickly he rolls over to face the wall so he doesn’t actually have to watch Gladio leave.

When Gladio’s gone a few minutes later, stopping only to pull on his clothes, Prompto has to grab the extra blanket off the ground because suddenly his apartment is freezing cold.

Chapter Text

Prompto rubs at his eye, shifting his contact out of and then back into place. The relief is minor but better than the almost hot itchiness that had been there before.

The relief also only lasts about four seconds. So he does it again.

Noct jabs him in the arm with his pen.

“Ow,” Prompto complains, rubbing that instead.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Noct asks him.

“Fell asleep in my contacts last night,” Prompto admits.

He’d been too miserable after Gladio left to get up and soft them out. Even after he realised he wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon he’d just laid there despondently, unable to make himself get up and take care of himself.

Prompto had gone round and round in his own head, eventually coming to the conclusion that despite assuring Noct he absolutely would not, he’d gone and caught feelings for Gladio.

A truck load of them.

“Don’t you have glasses?” Noct questions.

Prompto stares at him, “Duh.”

Noct jabs him again, “So wear them dummy.”

Prompto pulls a face, nobody sees him in his glasses. He paid an otherworldly amount of money for these contacts - though they’re probably one of the many things that are hilariously cheaper here - and he only wears his glasses when there’s no other choice. A little discomfort is nothing Prompto hasn’t dealt with before.

“Prom,” Noct says, almost laughing, “Come on. I won’t tell anyone.”

Prompto would like to argue that its not that big a deal but his finger is already in his eye again and he wouldn’t put it past Noct to just pin him down and pull the damn things out himself.

“Fine,” Prompto grumbles and he heaves himself off the floor.

Noct immediately lies down to fill the space he left and Prompto makes a mental note to not let Ignis know the Prince of Lucis just laid himself out on Prompto’s carpet. Prompto vacuums fairly regularly, but the tiny little thing supplied with his apartment is probably not up to scratch to keep the future King clean.

It does make that weird smell when it runs for too long too.

Prompto lets Noct stay on the floor though, clambering over him to collapse onto his couch. His cheek gets squashed against the cushions, knocking his glasses askew.

“How many finals have you got left?” Noct asks, blessedly making no comment on Prompto's glasses – plain black rimmed things.

He's a good egg.

“Three. No wait - four. Math. Social studies. That technical drawing bullshit and then my big painting final on Friday.”

Noct makes a little noise - sympathy Prompto thinks, “You ready for your painting thing? Planned out what you’re doing?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Prompto hedges. Prompto has an idea alright, and it’s largely down to Noct. He’d been struggling to think of something for weeks - months even - since he found out about the final exam, but a series of conversations with Noct and a little peak at a charm from his childhood had set Prompto on the right path. Prompto’s not dead set on his composition yet, but that’ll come to him in the next couple days, he's sure.

Prompto doesn’t want to tell Noct about it yet though, if things go to plan it might be for him.

“What about you?” Prompto nudges, shifting the conversation away from himself.

“Jut this shit -” Noct hefts his math textbook above his head “- and poli-sci on Wednesday.”

Noct had been going mad in his apartment, barely going anywhere besides there and campus, so Ignis had made an amendment to their study schedule to let them do their last math revision session together at Prompto’s instead. Prompto’s got a Crownsguard or two patrolling around his apartment block right now but if he doesn’t see them its easy to pretend it isn’t true.

Hopefully none of his neighbours notice.

“I hate that you finish first,” Prompto gripes playfully.

“Me too,” Noct stresses, then hurriedly adds, “Not that I want more exams, just that it’d be cool to chill with you while everyone stresses themselves towards an ulcer.”

“Instead I get to stress myself towards an ulcer,” Prompto says turning himself onto his back, “Pass me my book?”

Noct sits up with a huff and passes the textbook over, grabbing his own just after. Prompto opens it up at his marked page and stares at the little triangles and the angles and the weird little abbreviations written all over it.

“Ugh, I need Iggy’s cheat sheet.”

Noct snorts but hands Prompto the single sheet of paper filled with Ignis’ handwriting and diagrams that somehow, miraculously makes trigonometry make sense.

“You know the whole test won’t be trig, right?” Noct tells him.

“I know, but I’m feeling pretty good about everything else. I just don’t want to get caught out by anything,” Prompto admits. Prompto’s feeling particularly nervous now because he’d gone into his Solheim Arts exam pretty confidently this morning and then only had material ready to answer one of the essay questions.

“You could leave all the trig parts empty and still pass,” Noct says confidently.

Prompto laughs, “I won’t tell Ignis you said that.”

They work in silence for a few minutes, Prompto lying across the couch and Noct still on the floor, resting up against it. Prompto poorly stifles a yawn and Noct turns to look a little suspiciously at him over his shoulder.

“Why are you so tired anyway?”

Prompto hesitates and considers - not lying, as such, because he hates having to do that but certainly avoiding the question. But ultimately Noct sees Gladio all the time, more often that he does, and it would be all too easy for Gladio to mention it and Noct to think Prompto’s keeping stuff from him.

“Gladio came over last night,” Prompto admits.

“After we dropped you off?” Noct asks, “But you had an exam this morning.”

Prompto shrugs. Yeah, it was not his most grown up decision he ever made and he definitely made it with his dick not his head. Ultimately it probably caused him more unrest than anything but he can’t do anything about it now.

Noct sort of frowns at him a little and then turns back around. With an impressive show of forced casualness he asks, “How’s that going? Gladio was like, nice to you right?”

“It’s fine,” Prompto says, probably too quickly.

Noct twists in place, leaning his arm against the couch now so he can look at Prompto properly, “Prom?”

“What?”

Noct rolls his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Prompto insists.

“Did Gladio do something -”

“Gladio’s fine, okay. He’s great. Amazing, even,” Prompto tells him.

Noct raises an eyebrow, “Why do you sound so mad about it.”

“Because -” Prompto hesitates again, but if there’s one person he can talk to it’s Noct, “Because Gladio’s amazing and I’m just me and I’m dumb.”

Noct jabs him for the third time this evening.

“Dude,” Prompto complains.

“You’re not just anything and you're not dumb. Tell me what’s going on?”

Prompto shrugs.

“Nothings going on that hasn’t been going on,” Prompto says, “I just - I dunno.”

“You like Gladio, don’t you?” Noct guesses.

“What’s not to like?” Prompto tries to joke but ends up sounding just a bit miserable.

“Prompto,” Noct says seriously, “You know if the casual thing is no good for you you need to break it off.”

Prompto sits himself upright. He knows that’s kind of true but it’s also the last thing he wants to hear.

Prompto has a plan now. He’s not going to let him and Gladio do anything outside of the amazing sex. No going out for food, no giving him rides places, no bringing him food and coffee on campus.

If they’re casual they’re going to be casual.

Nothing else.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Prompto argues.

“It makes perfect sense,” Noct says, “Gladio’s not going to give you what you want so you should end it now before he does and you get hurt more.”

“No no,” Prompto says, “Listen. You don’t find out a thing you like is gonna go away and then stop having it.”

Noct frowns, looking confused, “What?”

“It’s like pizza, okay,” Prompto says and Noct just looks even more confused, “So say someone - your Dad. Okay. Your Dad decides to ban pizza in Insomnia -”

“He would never,” Noct puts in, “He’d lose his heir to the throne.”

Prompto snorts, “Okay, but just say he does. But it’s not an overnight thing. It’s like, from January there’s no pizza any more. What are you gonna do, stop eating it now?”

Noct opens his mouth, closes it and then looks thoughtful.

“Probably not,” Noct admits, though he looks like he’d rather not say it.

“Exactly. If you know something you really like isn’t going to be around forever then you have as much of it as you can while you can,” Prompto enthuses, glad that his analogy had panned out a lot better than he thought it would.

Noct still looks a little unconvinced though.

“So, yeah, I like Gladio. Whatever,” Prompto says - it’s sort of terrifying to admit out loud something he’s only ever really allowed himself to think completely alone in the dead of night, “So I’m just gonna enjoy as much of him as I can, while I can.”

Noct sighs, “If you’re sure.”

“Absolutely,” Prompto says.

Not even a little bit, Prompto thinks.

- - -

The canvas Prompto bought for his painting final isn’t the right size.

He thought it was the right size but somehow it’s four inches shorter and two narrower than the minimum size for the final submission.

Prompto doesn’t like working so big. He likes working on small details and filling space so intricately you have to really decide what to focus on. He’d maybe get away with just painting the whole thing a flat colour before he starts working and using it as border of sorts but his teacher knows his work so well by now they’ll probably spot it right away. That’s not to say he still wouldn’t get away with it but he wouldn’t want to disappoint them.

It’s fine though. He has time - he can’t really practice the technical drawings anyway and his pencils can only get so sharp - so he can take himself down to the art store and rework his composition a little. Maybe add some more stuff to it.

The weather is kind of miserable though and part of him wishes he was brave enough to cash in on some of Iggy’s kindness and maybe call for a ride home.

But he doesn’t, so Prompto bundles himself up in his coat and steps outside with his expertly wrapped canvas tucked under one arm and some other new supplies nestled safely in his back pack.

Prompto’s wet through by the time he gets home and his boots are probably going to take days to dry but Prompto feels pretty good about actually being able to take control of a situation for once.

That’s one problem solved at least.

- - -

[Noct 12:09] sorry bud, ive gotta go to the citadel this afternoon

[Prompto 12:11] don’t worry about it. everything okay?

[Noct 12:12] yeah. just meeting with my dad and stuff. iggy says to call him if you want someone to talk to or distract you before your test ＾ω＾

[Prompto 12:13] its just social studies. i’m not too worried.

[Noct 12:14] you and me. all day saturday. games and ignoring the rest of the world.

[Prompto 12:15] a true description of heaven

[Noct 12:16] ill even get up before noon

[Prompto 12:17] （・□・；） ٩(●ᴗ●)۶

[Prompto 12:17] you like me. you really like me.

[Noct 12:18] shut up

Prompto’s smiling when he stows his phone back in his pocket. He’s got a little less than two hours before his social studies exam and realistically he should probably find a nice corner with his textbook and do some last minute revision now his lunch plans with Noct are scuppered - Noct doesn’t even have school for the rest of the year and he was only going to come down to campus to spend some time with Prompto.

But Prompto knows what he’s like and if he sits down to read he’ll find something he doesn’t know, or confuse himself over something unimportant, and get completely psyched out before his test.

So Prompto does something he’s not had time to do for a long while and digs out his camera from his bag, starting to wander almost aimlessly away from the coffee stand.

The light is good today, a bright winter sun filtered pleasantly through a thin cover of clouds.

-

Prompto probably should have set an alarm because he ends up having to sprint back across campus and only just makes it through the doors of the exam hall before they get shut for good.

- - -

[Ignis 07:46] Good luck today, prompto, I’m sure you’ll do fantastically. Noctis would wish you well himself but he’s understandably still asleep.

[Prompto 07:47] thanks iggy! omw to campus now, got all my stuff. good to go!

[Ignis 07:48] Marvellous. If the forecast rain hits this afternoon allow me a break in my day to drive you to work?

[Prompto 07:49] you don’t have to do that!

[Ignis 07:50] What time is your shift?

[Prompto 07:51] 5. so i have to be done with my final with time to get over there

[Ignis 07:52] Hmm, perhaps my car will give you a little extra time in your exam?

[Prompto 07:53] i can’t argue with that. just got to campus and gonna set up before we start, text you later? X

[Ignis 07:54] Try and enjoy yourself. Remember this is what you love.

-

There’s an empty patch of blue at the top left corner of Prompto’s canvas but he kind of doesn’t hate it.

It’s not like him to leave such an empty space but to fill it would throw the balance off, he thinks. His professor is walking around the room, looking at everyone’s work and they’re obviously not allowed to give advice or opinions but they’re probably only worse than Prompto in their complete inability to control their face.

So next time they’re passing by Prompto watches them carefully while mixing up some of the not quite white paint he needs to add more texture to Carbuncle’s fur. They seem pleased, or not disappointed at least, and Prompto settles slightly in his decision to leave it as it is. Maybe he’ll get some inspiration later in the day but for now the deep colour gives a nice background to make the mythological creature stand out on the canvas.

Prompto had been really careful not to look up any reference pictures online relying only on his friend’s childhood recollections and the small charm he keeps in his bedside table. Noct had seemed embarrassed to show Prompto the little figure, explaining how his Dad had given it to him in Tenebrae when the King had been forced to return home and leave his son to heal alone for a time.

Luna had been the one to tell Noct the stories of Carbuncle, a mischievous but helpful little spirit that bought good dreams, and Noct had in turn past them on to Prompto.

Prompto hopes this painting does Noct proud, hopes it conveys to the prince how much it means to Prompto when he shares parts of his life with him.

-

[Prompto 16:01] nooooocct

[Prompto 16:01] i finished. i did it. lets quit school forever

-

[Prompto 16:03] so I finished with loads of time to get across town and its not raining so I can make my own way to work

[Ignis 16:04] I’m two minutes away. We can get coffee on the way.

[Prompto 16:05] dude, you have way more important stuff to do that drive me to work.

[Ignis 16:06] That’s your opinion （＾∀＾）

[Prompto 16:07] noooo. not the smilies.

[Prompto 16:08] i’ll see you in a couple minutes. out front?

-

[Noct 16:08] im totally up for it but youd be miserable if you dropped out of school

[Prompto 16:09] i mean i’d have to go back to niflheim so yeah

[Noct 16:10] gross

-

[Prompto 16:11] i’m freeeeeeeee

Prompto’s not only free but free with a swathe of free time ahead of him. Sure, he has to go in and talk to Ellen tomorrow about his scholarship - on a Saturday - and he’s going to take advantage of the schools supplies to make some last minute changes to his portfolio, but otherwise he’s wide open.

And hoping beyond hope Gladio wants to take advantage of that.

[Gladio 16:12] Congrats, Freckles. I bet you smashed it.

It always makes him feel all squirmy and happy when Gladio texts him back super fast. Almost like Gladio likes talking to Prompto as much as Prompto likes talking to him.

Realistically, Prompto realises, he’s probably just bored at work or something.

[Prompto 16:13] i’m pretty proud of my piece

[Prompto 16:14] i called it carbuncle dreaming

[Prompto 16:14] [Image 12896.jpg]

Prompto had taken the picture on a whim, just so he could look at it again while it was with the school for marking.

A car honks and Prompto startles, looking up to see Ignis smiling benignly out of his car. Prompto waves and rushes over.

“Hi Iggy,” he says settling into the passenger seat, “Also, thanks Iggy.”

“You’re welcome,” Ignis says, immediately pulling the car onto the street, “How was your day?”

“Good,” Prompto says quickly, “I think I did really well.”

Prompto glance back at his phone.

[Gladio 16:15] Wow.

[Gladio 16:15] Seriously. Wow.

“Only time will tell,” Ignis says, “But I have utmost faith in your abilities.”

Prompto grins, he’s getting a lot of praise right now.

[Prompto 16:16] (*´ω｀*)

[Prompto 16:16] thank you

[Prompto 16:17] i kind of … did it for noct?

“How was yours?” Prompto asks, maybe a touch too late to be properly polite.

[Gladio 16:18] He’ll love it. Have you shown it to him yet?

“Quite pleasant,” Ignis says, “Though being stuck inside the Citadel all day can be quite demoralising.”

[Prompto 16:19] not yet. i’m like, embarrassed i guess

Prompto loves the piece. It’s probably the best thing he’s ever created and he’s so proud of it. But. But. Is there something a bit weird in doing a painting for your best friend? When they hadn’t asked you to do it and don’t really have any overt interest in art.

“Glad to be of serves,” Prompto chirps at Ignis, offering his silly salute.

[Gladio 16:20] Don’t be. You’re so good, Prom. That’s phenomenal. He’ll love it, I promise. Show it to him.

Ignis pulls the car to a stop sooner than Prompto would have thought, parking up outside a cute little coffee shop he’s never been to before. Before he climbs out of the car he quickly types out another text.

[Prompto 16:21] i wanna wait til he can see it in real life

“If you grab a table, I’ll order our drinks,” Ignis suggests. Prompto nods his understanding and quickly picks out a two person table by the window. The heavy rain forecast never arrived but a light drizzle has persisted pretty much all day. Prompto’s not complaining about it. He kind of likes rain, at least water falling from the sky here isn’t frozen solid and painful.

[Gladio 16:22] Whatever you want babe. Got any plans to celebrate your freedom?

Prompto doesn’t have plans but he has ideas. The kind of idea he gets any time he has a free chunk of time.

[Prompto 16:23] well noct’s at the citadel tonight - which I do NOT have clearance for - and also

[Prompto 16:23] i’m working til 9

[Prompto 16:24] but i thought this mega hunk i know might come round after

Gladio responds immediately in the affirmative but not in the way he was expecting. Which means Prompto has to think of an excuse to get out of his offer, because he’s pretty bad at just saying no. Apparently.

[Gladio 16:25] I’ll pick you up.

[Prompto 16:26] i’m actually gonna run back, i’ve been slacking for weeks now

It’s not even a lie, Prompto thinks, he’s barely run in the last two weeks and he’s been carrying around his running leggings and sneakers in his bag just in case for a week now. Noct and Iggy are pretty insistent about not letting him run back from Noct’s apartment at night, however.

“Here,” Ignis says, unloading a small tray of drinks - and food - onto their table, “They don’t have your favourite but their mocha is quite sublime.”

Prompto smiles, “And these?” Prompto points at the two desserts Ignis places down alongside the drinks, a slice of something pale yellow that Prompto can already smell the citrus wafting off and what is undeniably a slice of coffee cake.

“Just something to give you a little boost before your shift,” Ignis says, dropping him a wink and stepping away to get rid of their tray.

[Gladio 16:27] Promise me you’ll be careful.

[Prompto 16:28] （・∀・）ゞ

[Prompto 16:28] always am

[Prompto 16:29] come to mine for 9:45?

That should give Prompto enough time to get home and not be a sweaty mess when Gladio arrives.

Ignis slips into his seat and nudges the yellow tart towards him, “Lemon,” he tells Prompto, “I think you’ll find it to your liking.”

“Ah, thanks Iggy, this is so nice,” Prompto says.

“Seemed only right to treat you a little bit considering you have work this evening,” Ignis demures, “It’s important to me that my friends are well cared for.”

Prompto had thought about that a bit recently, that Ignis - and Gladio to some extent - were his friend now even outside his relationship with Noct. It’s the first time he’s ever had the notion returned to him though and he blushes through his first sip of mocha.

Ignis smiles kindly at him, like he understands what Prompto’s thinking but says nothing and just hands him a fork. He also doesn’t say anything when Prompto less than discreetly checks his phone.

[Gladio 16:30] Can’t wait.

Prompto grins, broad and wide. His potentially awful day shaping up to be pretty good, all things considered. He’s got a late night ahead of him, sure, but for the best reasons. Gladio will make him feel better.

“I admit,” Ignis says, “I had hoped to see your work, but I realise it must remain on campus for marking.”

“Oh, yeah,” Prompto says, “I think I get it back next semester. But I have a picture, if you wanna see it?”

“Please,” Ignis says eagerly.

Prompto swipes open his phone and scrolls back up in his message with Gladio for the picture. Ignis absolutely notices he does this rather than switches out to his gallery but by the time Prompto’s realises it’s suspicious it’s too late to do anything about it.

“Here,” Prompto says, making it full screen and passing it over. Ignis cradles his phone carefully and stares at the screen for a long moment, eyes flitting over the different details.

“I can’t wait to see it in person,” Ignis murmurs.

“It’s big,” Prompto points out, making a vague gesture with his hands to simulate the width of his canvas.

Ignis nods, passing the phone back, “Noctis will love it.”

“You really think so?” Prompto checks. That’s two votes for this not being a completely dumb idea.

“I know so,” Ignis says firmly.

-

Work is awful.

Prompto’s good day turns shitty in four hours.

It’s always bad on a Friday - Insomnia at large seems to have designated it as the regional cheat day - with a line three deep from the moment Prompto opens up his register, right through the fifteen minutes he’s supposed to grab at seven to use the bathroom and hydrate himself. It drops down to a steady turnover at about eight forty-five and Prompto sends Erin off for her break because she’s closing up with Erinn when she arrives.

Erinn arrives late, of course, swanning in five minutes after her shift starts like she’s not even in a hurry.

“Just a minute!” she calls as she heads for the back room.

Erin gives him a commiserating look as she passes a customer their order. “I can handle it,” she tells him, “If you wanna head out.”

Prompto looks at the short line and row of orders on the counter and shakes his head. She totally can handle it, but if he steps away with no one to replace him those people still waiting will be mad he knows.

Prompto pours out a couple teas, placing them into a cardboard tray just as the kitchen rings the bell for an order fulfilled. Prompto goes to grab it and when he’s back he’s passes the food and the tea over to the customer - who kind of mumbles a thank you - just in time for Erinn to slip behind the register and start taking the next order.

“Go,” Erin enthuses, “You have a date or something. I can tell.”

Prompto snorts and offers her a smile, “Something,” he admits.

She winks at him and laughing a little Prompto slips away to the back room.

Quickly he changes his jeans for his leggings, bundles his short boots with them in his backpack then fusses with the straps, tightening them up and securing the band around his chest so it doesn’t move around too much against his back while he runs.

Realistically he’s too hungry for this and the stressful shift has zapped his end of finals high right out of him. But he’s run under more duress before so he walks right past the corner Sakana exists on then takes off at a fast jog towards his apartment.

-

Prompto has to turn his shower cooler than he likes for washing his hair but when he first turns it blisteringly hot and steps in it doesn’t refresh him like normal but makes him claustrophobic and sweatier.

Prompto climbs out of the little stall, relieved more than refreshed and roughly towel dries his hair then his body. Forgoing restrictive jeans Prompto grabs his comfiest sweats - that have no holes or stains - and throws on a navy blue t-shirt. Unable to face the hairdryer he simply triple folds his small towel and drapes it over his shoulder so drips from his hair don’t soak through his clothes.

His fridge is a sorry state of affairs.

He’d been aware that he was running low on food for a few days; yesterday he’d hand his last ramen for lunch and some leftover chilli for dinner. Prompto hasn’t really eaten today apart from that lemon tart.

Nerves had ruined his appetite this morning so he’d forced down his last banana before his painting final, relying on the fact his boss would toss him some sushi that’s on it’s date. But they’d been so busy he’d not had a chance to eat and then his boss had been in such an awful mood towards the end of the evening he didn’t dare go into the kitchen to ask for something to take home with him.

Prompto’s not really hungry now though either, even though he knows he should be, so he pulls out the end of his bread loaf - the top slice is beyond stale but the ones underneath will probably be alright toasted either side of some melted cheese. Prompto presses the bread on either side of the single slice of cheese he has left - honestly he’s not sure he’s going to buy cheese that much any more, the stomach aches just aren’t worth it - and carefully butters the outside before dropping it into the heating frying pan.

Someone knocks on his door.

Gladio.

“Hey,” Prompto says when the doors open, hopping up onto his toes to kiss Gladio quickly before retreating back inside to stop his meagre dinner from burning. Prompto wishes he could have let the kiss linger a little longer, give Gladio time to respond but needs must at this point.

Prompto flips the sandwich over and turns the heat down so the other side doesn’t cook as fast. No point in a grilled cheese if the cheese doesn’t have time to melt.

Or so living in Insomnia has taught him anyway.

“Haven’t you had dinner?” Gladio asks.

He sounds a little annoyed, Prompto thinks. Prompto doesn’t know why.

“We were too busy at work for me to take my break and then my boss was in a mood so I couldn’t bring anything home,” Prompto explains.

Gladio steps closer, “You should have text me, we could have gone out - also,” Gladio starts, apparently realising something, “I’m pretty sure him not letting you have breaks is illegal, Prom.”

Prompto doesn’t know if that’s true, not when he only worked four hours. His boss is an asshole, sure, but Prompto’s sure he always tows the line of legality.

“That’s not really what we do,” Prompto blurts without thinking.

Casual.

Casual relationships don’t involve going out for dinner. Prompto’s trying to focus on what they actually are and not let his imagination get the better of him but every time Gladio’s mouth offers more its hard for Prompto not to read intent there that doesn’t exist.

“Is that all your having?” Gladio checks, watching as Prompto presses down on the sandwich with his spatula.

“I don’t have anything else in,” Prompto admits a little sheepishly. He’s an adult, he should be taking better care of himself than this, “Food shopping’s not really been a priority.”

Gladio sidles right up to his side, his hand almost too warm where it rubs gently at his back. Gladio presses a firm kiss to the side of his head and offers, “Let me order you something. Didn’t you run too?”

Prompto leans into Gladio’s hand a little, prodding his dinner. “I’m too tired to really be hungry,” Prompto admits, “I’ll go shopping on my way back from school tomorrow and eat something substantial then.”

Gladio makes a noise, halfway between encouraging and thoughtful. But he sounds amused when he as asks, “Wasn’t your last exam today? And it’s Saturday tomorrow.”

Prompto giggles.

“I have a few last minute things to do for photography, need to glue some stuff in my portfolio, it won’t take long,” Prompto promises. He flips the grilled cheese out of the pan onto the waiting plate and then hops up onto the counter, biting into it even though its way too hot.

Gladio watches him closely and Prompto tries not to fidget under the intense attention. Prompto’s a little startled when Gladio’s fingers touch his forehead.

“You feeling okay?” Gladio asks, “You’re hot.”

Prompto knows what Gladio really means, of course, but Prompto’s not going to sit here and let Gladio worry about him, “Aw shucks, Big Guy, thanks.” Prompto tosses in a wink for good measure.

Gladio pinches his ribs, a soft pressure that tickles more than anything and has Prompto snorting into his sandwich.

“You know what I mean, Freckles, you getting sick?” Gladio asks.

Prompto hopes not, but there is a faint pain at his temples that might suggest his hopes are for nought.

“I’m just a bit run down,” Prompto says, “I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

Gladio nods, but he looks thoughtful, glancing back towards the door.

“Maybe I should have come round tomorrow,” Gladio says softly.

Prompto’s eyes widen, “Nooooooo,” Prompto complains petulantly. No, no, no, Prompto knows what he wants. What will make him feel better, “I wanted to unwind my favourite way.”

Prompto feels like he could definitely sleep right now but that’s not what he wants to do.

Gladio rolls his eyes but leans forward to kiss Prompto’s jaw, lingering right at the sharp edge of it and working Prompto over until he can’t hold back his pleased sigh.

“Lets watch a movie,” Gladio says decisively, pulling away with a lingering look. He teases, “You can rest a bit then we’ll get down to the good stuff. Wouldn’t do for me to have to do all the work.”

And isn’t that an idea. Gladio flat on his back, letting Prompto work him over, willingly giving over control to Prompto who has no hope of taking that control. Prompto’s mouth goes dry.

Holy shit does he want.

“Ye olde Moogleflix and Chill. I like it,” Prompto says instead of putting words to all the rapid fire pictures in his head.

Gladio leaves him to eat, turning on the television and getting the app open. Prompto watches with no small amount of intrigue as Gladio scrolls without hesitation to the first Astral Wars film. Prompto has zero complaints.

Prompto’s chewing the last bit of his dinner when Gladio comes back to him, placing his plate into the sink for him and then immediately shifting Prompto up into his arms. Prompto hums contentedly as large hands settle on his thighs holding him up high, and slips his arms around Gladio’s shoulders.

Prompto leans down the short gap between their mouths to kiss Gladio, mouth moving eagerly if a little slow. Gladio cinches him tighter to his body, hands squeezing his thighs and Prompto sighs contentedly into Gladio’s mouth. Prompto feels across Gladio’s shoulders and then appreciatively over the muscles in his biceps.

Prompto pulls back with a groan giving Gladio’s arms a squeeze.

“These arms, dude, holy shit, I can’t,” Prompto wines. Prompto feels his cock give a kind of half-hearted twitch, not exactly coming to life but certainly reminding Prompto that it exists.

Gladio laughs, looking pleased and with very little jostling to Prompto he lays on the couch, reclining himself back with Prompto spread over him. Prompto reaches, touching Gladio’s jaw and they come together in another kiss, slow and oddly soft, Gladio’s hands gentle on his waist.

Prompto’s glad he feels it coming before it happens and he has enough time to pull back and cover his mouth when he yawns.

Gladio grins at him, looking a little soft around the edges and his palms stroke up Prompto’s spine underneath his t-shirt, skin against skin.

Prompto blushes, “Sorry. Just let me -” Prompto tries to clear his head but he feels odd, like there’s cotton wool in his ears, “- I can sort you out in a minute. Just need to -” Prompto yawns again, his blush deepening.

Gladio gives him a little tug, pulling Prompto flat against him and turns Prompto’s head towards the TV, tucking him beneath his chin.

Its maybe the comfiest Prompto’s ever been and he’s barely even exaggerating when he thinks that.

Normally the two of them would be rock solid against one another by now, hands roaming and clothes being haphazardly discarded. Prompto can feel some interested from Gladio pressing against his thigh but its not enough to have his own answering in kind or dispel the vague fog that seems to have descended over him.

“Lets just watch the movie for a bit. I mean - I should probably watch this to get some context for Astral Wars 4,” Gladio says.

Prompto reels up a little in shock, squinting to get a good look at Gladio’s face, “Wait - you’ve never seen the other Astral Wars?” Prompto asks, Gladio shakes his head and Prompto laughs, “But you came to see it with us.”

Gladio rubs his back again, a warm relaxing circle, “You and Noct wanted to so me and Iggy came along. You do that kind of stuff for your friends.”

“Huh.”

It’s the second time today he’s had it pointed out to him, that he has friends outside Noct. Both Ignis and Gladio have now confirmed it and it does something funny inside Prompto’s chest.

Prompto fidgets to get a little more comfortable, resting his cheek against Gladio’s pec and reducing the spread of his thighs to be over just one of Gladio’s impressive thighs.

This actually might be the comfiest he’s ever been, for real. Iggy’s mattress topper withstanding.

“These are my favourites,” Prompto murmurs as the opening exposition comes to a close, “Seriously, you’ve been missing out.”

Prompto’s fairly sheltered by Insomnian standards, so the idea that he’s seen this pinnacle of Lucian media when Gladio hasn’t kind of blows his mind. Gralean films have made no traction over here and Prompto had spent an afternoon trying to explain the plot of his favourite movie from back in Niflheim to almost no avail.

Solarium is something you just have to see.

Prompto buries another yawn in Gladio’s chest, blinking slowly as his least favourite character comes briefly onto the screen.

“Isn’t there a whole extended universe and stuff?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods. “I have all the graphic novels,” he says, last words distorted by another yawn.

The first one had been an unexpected birthday gift from Ignis and the rest he’d managed to pick up second hand but in excellent condition from one of his favourite charity shops.

Gladio hums thoughtfully and continues to stroke Prompto’s back.

Prompto blinks and when he opens his eyes again the film is further along than he expected it to be.

He frowns at the sight but his eyes feel heavy and he blinks again.

- - -

Prompto wakes up on the couch and it takes him way too long to work out what that means.

He’d fallen asleep on Gladio last night.

Literally fallen asleep on him.

Prompto scrambles upright and staggers to his bathroom, swapping his gross dry contacts out for his glasses so he holds some hope of being able to see what’s going on.

His phone is almost dead, having not been charged yesterday, so he falls onto his bed, plugging it in and checking the time. It’s almost eight and the art room opens up in half an hour for last minute bits and pieces. Prompto has a meeting with Ellen at 9:30 and then he’s unfortunately got an early shift at work that scuppered his and Noct’s day of gaming plans.

Prompto needs to text Gladio to apologise but he also needs to get his ass in gear of he doesn’t want to be on campus all morning.

-

Sorting out his portfolio takes a small handful of minutes. Prompto’s been pretty good at keeping on top of it as he goes so he only has to stick in half a dozen photographs and write a few paragraphs about intent and inspiration before he’s zipping it back up and then getting in line behind a few other students to submit it to the department for review.

Prompto had even dallied a little, adding needless embellishment with metallic pens just so it looked like he was as stressed over it as some of his course mates that are frantically arranging work into shiny new portfolios with the price tags still on.

The state of his portfolio doesn’t affect his grade, technically, but the school likes to keep an eye on their body of work to assess their progress. Certain professors like to have a look before accepting students into their classes, for instance.

Prompto’s looked at the course list for next semester but he hadn’t wanted to spend too much time looking before he was a hundred percent certain he’d be progressing to next term at all.

Prompto makes sure to tuck the receipt the lady at the desk gives him in return for his portfolio securely into his wallet.

And texts Noct about it for good measure.

[Prompto 09:01] when i’m freaking out in a month about not being able to find the receipt for my portfolio remind me its in my wallet

Prompto doesn’t expect him to be awake yet. Not by a long shot. So he just tucks his phone back in his pocket and makes his way out of the art building. Habit has him stopping by the coffee cart, even though its an expense he should probably avoid, where he orders a mocha with a shot of caramel syrup. The barista looks at him a little askance but Prompto likes his coffee sweet, there’s nothing he can do about it.

Fortified by the caffeine he climbs the stairs of the administration building and sits himself in the chair outside Ellen’s office, too early to consider knocking already.

Gladio’s not text him yet, and Prompto doesn’t know if that’s because he doesn’t care that Prompto couldn’t follow through on a promise last night or if he's made about it.

[Prompto 09:11] so mark me down as the worst hook up of all time

[Prompto 09:12] you should have woken me up after a while

Prompto waits. Not sure how long it might be until he responds but willing to pretty much stare at his phone until it’s time for his appointment.

Thankfully it doesn’t take that long.

[Gladio 09:15] You know what, somehow I still managed to have a really good time.

Prompto blushes even though there’s really no one around to see it.

[Prompto 09:16] shut up (´ω｀*)

[Prompto 09:16] i hope i didn’t drool on you or anything

[Gladio 09:17] No comment.

Prompto stifles a laugh into his coffee, not wanting any passersby to think he’s a complete loon.

[Prompto 09:18] gladiooooooooooo

[Prompto 09:19] i’m feeling super well rested now. come over later and i’ll make it up to you??

[Prompto 09:19] i had plans last night dammit

Vague plans, that had been formed only in the moment and spurned on by Gladio’s words but they’d become more concrete in the light of day while he’d lamented his inability to stay awake last night.

[Gladio 09:20] Oh yeah? Do enlighten me?

[Prompto 09:21] right position, wrong activity

[Gladio 09:22] Well shit, that’s something I could get behind.

[Prompto 09:23] maybe after, if we have time.

[Prompto 09:23] tonight??? i’m only working til five

[Gladio 09:24] No can do, baby, got a family dinner and I promised Iris I’d stay over, it’s her birthday tomorrow, taking her for pancakes in the morning.

Prompto pouts for real, disappointed that he’s being turned down. Not that he’s taking it personally of course, Prompto knows how much Gladio loves his little sister. Ignis and Noct like her too, he thinks, have always spoken highly of her when she’s come up in conversation.

She has a crush on Noct, he knows, which is probably really adorable. Prompto’s seen pictures of her now, too, and she looks like a sweet little thing.

[Prompto 09:25] (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T) (T＿T)

[Prompto 09:25] iris is lucky she cute or i’d be so mad right now

[Prompto 09:26] oh hey will you still be coming in for your tattoo?

[Gladio 09:27] Yeah, she’s going ice skating with her friends in the afternoon so I can still make it.

[Gladio 09:28] I’d do something with you after but I promised Iris I’d go back home again.

[Prompto 09:30] oh no, you should totes spend time with her. just glad i get to see you at all <3

Prompto sends the message and then realises immediately that it was a bad idea.

He absolutely should not be letting Gladio know he wants to see him even when there’s no sex on the table. That’s such a dumb move.

Prompto needs to be more careful.

“Prompto?” Ellen says, head poking out her door, “Come on in.”

Prompto startles and scrambles his phone away again as he gets to his feet. Ellen holds the door open for him.

“How were your exams?” she asks once he’s inside and she’s snapped the door closed.

“Good,” Prompto says quickly, “Well, at least I think so.”

“I’m sure you did wonderfully,” Ellen says. She takes a seat and types away at her computer for a moment.

“Now, assuming you past all your exam - and judging from your previous scores you will have - you’ve fulfilled everything you need to do to progress to next year with your scholarship.”

“Awesome,” Prompto says sincerely, “When do we find out our grades?”

“About a week or so,” Ellen says, “Depends on each professor’s class load but you’ll get an email. Make sure to sign up for any classes you really want as soon as they’re posted. On the off chance you get refused anything on academic grounds you’ll be able to apply for more classes afterwards and its best to be at the top of lists.”

Prompto nods and makes a mental note to sit down with Noct and arrange their schedules as soon as they become available.

Ellen turns away from her computer and offers him a smile, “Any concerns at all?”

“Nothing,” Prompto says, “Well actually. There’s the payment for my apartment -”

“I was just going to get to that,” Ellen assures him, “You remember how much the monthly payment is?”

“Yep,” Prompto says. The number has been seared into his brain.

“And you’ll be able to make it every month?”

Prompto’s not sure what will happen if he says no but he’s picked up an extra shift at work and has even managed to accrue a pathetic amount of savings on the off chance that shift disappears.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “How do I -?”

Ellen starts to rummage for some paperwork.

“You can either come into the finance department every month and make a payment that way,” Ellen explains, laughing when Prompto pulls a face at the suggestion.

That sounds like an annoying hassle. And the exact sort of thing he’d forget to do and land himself in a heap of trouble.

“Or,” Ellen says, “We can set up an automatic payment so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Lets do that,” Prompto says quickly.

“Have you got your account details with you?”

Prompto nods and Ellen passes over a sheet of paper.

-

Prompto’s unpacking groceries when Noct finally gets back to him. Managing to - just - fulfil his promise to be up before noon despite the fact they ended up not having any real plans.

[Noct: 11:38] i showed iggy this message

Prompto actually has to read his last message to know what this is about but when he does laughs.

[Prompto 11:39] smart move

[Prompto 11:39] hey can i come over after work?

[Noct 11:40] fuck yes. when do you finish? well pick you up

[Prompto 11:41] 5!

-

Ignis slides the cute little pastries into the oven and then washes his hands. Coming back over to the island with a chopping board and a knife before stepping away to gather ingredients.

“That’s a lot of vegetables,” Noct complains, looking over the onions and the carrots as Ignis sets them down. The aromatics - as Ignis would say - don’t seem offend Noct in the way more substantial plants do.

Ignis fixes him with a look and Noct turns away slightly, swinging his legs on his stool.

“You’re already getting dessert,” Ignis points out, starting to peel an onion with deft movements.

“Only because Prompto got one yesterday and I didn’t,” Noct mutters petulantly.

Prompto can’t imagine this is actually something Noct has an issue with so much as Noct has seen this as a clever excuse to get his favourite pastry out of his adviser.

The grin Noct can't bite back is a dead give away.

Ignis shakes his head and says plainly, “Prompto had an exam at eight yesterday and then worked until nine pm. You however slept until one o’clock in the afternoon and then achieved little else other than managing to shower before situating yourself on the couch for six straight hours.”

Noct rolls his eyes but casts Prompto an oddly guilty look.

“How was campus today?” Noct asks, “I’d have come with you if you asked.”

“Weirdly quiet, but the good coffee cart was still open,” Prompto tells him, “But, uh. No you wouldn’t have, my appointment was at nine thirty.”

Noct laughs a little sheepishly.

“What was your appointment for?” Ignis asks absently. Prompto watches him dice the onion into perfect little squares.

Perhaps its that distraction that has him saying, “I needed to set up a payment plan for my rent next semester.”

“Payment plan?” Ignis says over the top of Noct’s confused, “But you’re on a full ride?”

Prompto feels his face go hot, tips of his ears burning.

“One of my scholarships fell through,” Prompto admits, “But its not a big deal. I have it covered.”

“Is that why you started working more?” Noct asks.

Prompto nods but then shrugs, “It’s really not a lot of money a month. I still - uh. Have more than I ever have before. Y’know?”

Noct’s face creases and somehow Prompto knows what he’s about to offer before he says anything and it means Prompto’s already shaking his head before Noct’s half done talking.

“You know that I could pay it for - c’mon, why not?”

“You know why not,” Prompto mutters, “I’m not a mooch.”

Noct sighs, “I wouldn’t think you were.”

Prompto can feel Ignis’ eyes on him but when he turns to look at the adviser he’s already focusing on his chopping board again.

Noct sighs again but seems resigned not to bring it up any more and Prompto leans towards him to knock their shoulders together gratefully.

“How was work last night?” Ignis asks.

“Awful,” Prompto admits, “Everyone and they’re uncle Alvin wanted sushi yesterday and I didn’t even get any free sushi out of it.”

“Gross,” Noct mutters, “At least tonight you get to eat -” Noct waves his hand over the assembled ingredients, “Whatever this is.”

Ignis rolls his eyes, “It’s a Galahdian dish. There are skewers involved so I’m sure you approve.”

“Practising for Nyx aren’t you?” Noct teases and Prompto’s pretty sure if there wasn’t a counter between them Ignis would have kicked him in the shins.

“I love Galahdian food,” Prompto puts in mesmerised again by the way Ignis is now chopping a carrot into perfectly equal pieces. A touch wistfully he adds, “Wish I could cook like this.”

Ignis puts down his knife and then opens a drawer to pull out a second one, then reaches to where there’s a small stack of chopping boards. He puts the knife and a second onion on top of the board and then slides it in front of Prompto.

“Now is a good a time as any to start learning,” Ignis says.

Prompto sits up eagerly and Noct laughs.

“Show my how you’d peel that,” Ignis instructs and Prompto tries his absolute very best.

Prompto’s not very good but dinner is still edible when he’s done.

- - -

Prompto doesn’t have much to do at Insomnia Ink that Sunday.

He arrives earlier than normal by way of not having to spend some time studying beforehand and he’s got all his regular cleaning jobs and filing done before they break for lunch.

Eli does three tattoos back to back that morning, simple little designs he’d preplanned with clients.

Two of them are on people’s wrists and it makes Prompto nervous how pretty they look. Prompto rubs nervously under his wristband while Eli adds vibrant colours inside the lines and finds himself imagining what something he chose would look like on his bare wrist.

When Prompto carefully wraps her wrist and goes through the cleaning procedure and recommends ways to make it itch less he tells her how much he likes it and she smiles gratefully at him and tells him he’s doing a really good job.

Prompto’s sat behind the main desk after that with Eli next to him, sketchbook open but no art being made. Eli turns away from the computer where he’s been ordering stuff and pokes him gently in the face.

Prompto startles, sitting himself more upright and reaching blindly for his sketchbook.

“What are you thinking so hard about over there,” Eli asks half laughing.

Prompto pats around the desk, trying to find his missing pencil and manages to locate it wedged half under the keyboard.

Eli clears his throat to encourage Prompto to answer.

“Tattoos, I guess,” Prompto admits, still imagining thin dark lines of his choosing over the skin of his wrist.

It’s exciting and terrifying.

“Well it’s not like I can tell you that’s inappropriate or something,” Eli says, turning fully away from the computer, “You wanna talk to me about it or no?”

Prompto sighs, “I was just thinking about what my first tattoo will be. Or where it’ll be.”

Eli’s eyes flicker to his covered wrist for barely half a second and he says, “Completely up to you.”

“I don’t want to do the first one myself,” Prompto tells him, something he’d realised a little while ago, “Will you -”

“Of course,” Eli says at once, “Of course I will. As soon as you’re ready.”

Prompto smiles a little and picks up his sketchbook with less nerves than before.

“You have ideas?” Eli asks.

Prompto nods and flicks through his book to a double page spread near the back where he’s been dropping odd sketches. He eyes some stylised barbed wire he’d been considering for his upper arm but now thinks might be more attractive wrapped around his wrist.

Eli leans towards him eagerly.

“So I was drawing stuff like this,” Prompto says indicated the evolution of barbed wire across the page.

“Looks good,” Eli says, “Lots of people get stuff like this.”

“Is that bad?” Prompto asks. He doesn’t really mind the idea of getting a tattoo that other people already have similar of, not if he gets to decide. Prompto’s always wanted to belong, after all. To something other than a sick facility for kids.

Eli shakes his head, “Not necessarily. I don’t like using the stencils -” Eli points at the tattoo catalogue perched on the end of the counter, “But if I do six butterflies in one day I’m not mad about it. Tattoos mean what they mean to the person and it’s not my job to make a judgement on that.”

Prompto considers that and finds he likes it.

With his pencil Prompto taps a little the little cluster of stars in one corner.

“I also really like these,” Prompto says.

Eli hums thoughtfully and plucks the pencil from between Prompto’s fingers. He makes a move like he’s going to draw directly in the book and then changes his mind, reaching for a fresh sheet of paper instead.

Prompto wouldn’t have minded if Eli had drawn inside, he’ll probably have to remove these pages if he needs to submit the book at school anyway but it’s nice to get to watch Eli draw for a while. He’s used to watching Eli sketch roughly on skin and then ink in the details of a tattoo and somehow in all of that its easy to forget that Eli’s an artist on paper too.

Eli sketches out a band of barbed wire, leaving a gap in the middle where he adds a small star.

“So we could do something like this, wrapped all the way around. Or -” Eli quickly sketches a full band of the barbed wire but this time adds a slightly larger star beneath the band, “Or just like this.”

Prompto considers them, he likes them both for their own merit, particularly drawn to the uninterrupted band of wire.

“Tell me if I’m reading the room wrong,” Eli adds, “But you want this on your other wrist?”

“Maybe,” Prompto says, “I hadn’t considered it until today.”

“I’m surprised you never asked if we could cover the other one,” Eli says gently.

“I went to somewhere in Niflheim when I was eighteen,” Prompto admits uneasily, “And he said even if he was allowed to cover it he couldn’t because it’s too big and too dark. I don’t think a black rectangle will make me feel much better.”

“Not allowed?” Eli asks, frowning.

“There’s some government law about covering these up,” Prompto explains, “Someone got put in jail for having theirs like, cut out.” Prompto grimaces, wrist burning uncomfortably at the idea.

“That’s horrible,” Eli says shakily, “I thought when Lucis busted those places apart they made Niflheim sign an agreement to care for those recovering from the enslavement. Making it illegal to remove the marks of it doesn’t seem particularly in line with that agreement.”

“What?” Prompto says, surprised. He was aware that Lucis had uncovered the facilities, but didn’t realise they’d had much of a role outside that specific mission.

“I thought you didn’t know anything about all that,” Prompto says, trying not to accuse Eli of anything but his voice coming out oddly sharp anyway.

Eli looks almost sheepish.

“I looked up some stuff after you told me - nothing specific. Just, I realised how little I know about stuff that doesn’t directly affect me.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, not really sure how he feels about that. Prompto tries to squash down the slightly uncomfortable feeling that’s welled up inside him from nowhere.

Eli said nothing specific which means he didn’t look Prompto up in that horrible database and find out that he has no parents. That he was made from nothing somehow.

“Would something like this work for me?” Prompto asks, indicating Eli’s sketches again.

Eli nods but before he can speak the bell above the door chimes and Prompto looks up to see Gladio strolling inside. He stands up whip fast, grabbing the paper and quickly folding it up to hide in his back pocket for some reason.

Eli gives Prompto a perfectly neutral look and says, “Whenever you’re ready, kid, you let me know, okay?”

Prompto nods and turns to approach Gladio instead.

Eli calls over, “Back today, arms are done for now.”

And Prompto gets to be thoroughly distracted by Gladio’s chest as he pulls off his t-shirt.

-

Prompto makes coffee and grabs the box of doughnuts he’d picked up yesterday to take over to Eli’s station.

Eli eyes him sceptically and Prompto defends himself, “Post exam treat.”

“You deserve it,” Gladio says quickly and Prompto assumes he doesn’t know about the lemon tart he’d had with Ignis on Friday and the little Tenebraean pastries Ignis had made last night.

Prompto beams at him nonetheless and Gladio returns it with slightly less enthusiasm than Prompto’s used to before pulling his phone out of his pocket and focusing on that instead.

Right. Gladio’s not all that interested in him when they’re not in bed. He has to remember that.

Prompto wonders, with more anxiety than he should, if Gladio’s getting tired of him. Noct had said that Gladio never spends very long with each of his partners and despite everything he and Prompto have been carrying on for a few months now.

Gladio’s probably getting bored.

But he’s also frowning, looking concernedly down at his phone and Prompto’s not the kind of person that can ignore that and not ask:

“Everything okay?”

Gladio looks up, expression clearing into a soft smile, “Oh, yeah. Iris’ friends surprised her with a little pizza party so she was just letting me know.”

Prompto’s heart just about melts.

“That’s so cute,” Prompto enthuses.

Gladio laughs, a deep warm sound from right in his chest.

Prompto’s stomach does a thing. Not an unpleasant thing, but a thing nonetheless.

“Your friends never take you to an all you can eat pizza buffet when you were a kid?” Gladio asks.

Prompto laughs, a surprised little snort, “Gralea doesn’t really have pizza parlours, so…no. But thanks for assuming I had friends man, that’s nice.”

Gladio looks a little dumbfounded, like he’s just learnt new information. Which makes no sense, because even if Gladio knows very few details about him the fact he’s from Niflheim has to be one of them. It’s definitely come up before, Prompto thinks, and if not Noct will absolutely have told them. Before Noct found out where Prompto had really come from he’d been so fascinated by the fact he’d grown up in Gralea.

“Wait. Is there no pizza at all or just, like, no parlours to gorge in?” Eli asks suddenly.

“There’s pizza,” Prompto says, even if it had never been within his grasp, “It’s just expensive - like. People like me didn’t get to eat it.”

“You never had pizza before you got here?” Gladio asks quickly, incredulously.

Prompto shakes his head and admits, “I was so sick. I’d barely ever even eaten cheese before that -”

“Oh man -” Eli groans.

“- and when I went to Noct’s for the first time and Iggy was prepping fresh veggies I just about lost my mind.”

Prompto remembers seeing all the green stiff just lined up on the counter, a whole head of broccoli and bunches of fresh herbs. Prompto had only ever had dry crumbly seasonings before and the vibrant, living herbs had been a real sight to behold. And smell.

“There’s no veggies?” Eli checks.

“Well. Canned and frozen,” Prompto says, explaining how a whole nation of people haven’t dropped dead from scurvy or something, “We can’t really grow them because of all the snow so we import most of it. And then there is some grown in greenhouses but again, that’s not something I would have had the pleasure of.

“Huh,” Gladio says low.

“Least you always have a white Solstice,” Eli points out, then muses, “Though I suppose that makes it less special.”

“I hate snow,” Prompto mutters honestly, “It’s just an eternal grey slush in Gralea. It’s nothing like the pictures.”

Prompto never wants to see snow again. Just the idea of trudging endlessly through piles of frozen sludge and staring at an off white landscape for the rest of his life is enough to have his mood plummet.

“How are your oranges coming along?” Gladio asks suddenly, almost blurting the words out.

Prompto latches on to the conversation change, “Good. Well,” Prompto considers his actual progress, “Better. Eli thinks I’m ready for skin soon.”

Eli had mentioned it casually, off hand, like he hadn’t wanted to spook Prompto. Prompto had been a little spooked regardless, but Eli had promised he could wait as long as he wanted to try and they’d work out something if he never did.

“You can tattoo yourself at any time, kid, just as soon as you’re ready,” Eli reminds him again.

“I want a real one first,” Prompto admits, “Something I like.”

He watches Eli and Gladio both nod, his answer seemingly enough to put Gladio off from asking about why he didn’t have one yet. Again. Which Prompto is grateful for.

-

Somehow Prompto ends up having dinner with Gladio.

Which is firmly on his list of don’t do this rules but he does it anyway.

When Gladio asks him if he can leave work Prompto somehow misses the meat of the question and his brain leaps towards what he considers to be a forgone conclusion. Prompto even tries to convince Gladio to ditch the plans for food and just head back to his anyway but Gladio gently rebuffs him.

Prompto’s not particularly hurt by this rejection because it’s wrapped up in the knowledge Gladio wants more time with him than he currently has available but other than that Prompto’s not sure how he feels about it.

They skirt some tricky topics at dinner, Gladio accidentally bumbling them into a conversation about Niflheim again and being completely confused as to why Prompto has no desire to visit home this holiday season.

That must be what it’s like to have a proper family, he supposes. Something you’re willing to travel half the world to see.

Prompto feels a little guilty for not just telling Gladio the truth, implying instead that his family is dead rather than non-existent and knowing that avoiding it like he is is tantamount to lying. But he’s just not ready for more people to know.

Gladio drives him home though and makes no immediate move shoo him away and head away again so when Gladio leans eagerly into the thank you kiss Prompto gives him Prompto takes the initiative to climb straight into his lap.

Gladio’s hands go straight for his ass, pretty much, fingers grasping and exploring, one of them leaving him momentarily to pet across Prompto’s chest. It’s needier than their kisses had been a few days ago when they’d both been under the impression it would lead to more but Prompto’s full of energy now. Almost too much energy, wound tight like a spring ready to go off at any time.

Prompto strokes down Gladio’s arms, completely free of wrappings for once with a foreseeable future without them and the warm skin against Prompto's palms stirs something inside Prompto’s gut. It’s that more feeling again but this time its more reasonably placed because Prompto recognises it as a desire for more of Gladio’s body and not any of the stuff he hasn’t offered up to him.

Prompto tries to be subtle about it, sneak his hand under the hem of Gladio’s t-shirt but as soon as his fingertips brush firm abs Gladio’s gripping his hips and shifting Prompto back a little to create some space between him.

“Don’t go,” Prompto whines, writhing a little to try and get back at his mouth. Prompto tries to entice him by reminding him, “I still need to make something up to you.”

Gladio kisses him again, firm but chaste, a sweet little peck when he pulls away, “Next time. I’ve gotta go get Iris.”

Iris.

Prompto stupidly tries to hop back, remembering the sealed envelope sat inside his apartment he’d forgotten that morning, but he somehow forgets exactly where he is and smacks his head sharply on the roof of the car.

Prompto’s eyes water immediately but he manages not to cry out in pain, just winces and folds in on himself a little.

Gladio makes a soothing noise, gently cradling Prompto's head so he can search through Prompto’s hair for an injury. He finds a tender spot, slightly raised, and Prompto kind of swoons when Gladio presses a kiss it it.

It hurts a little but it’s absolutely worth it.

“You okay?” Gladio asks him, helping him straighten up again.

“Wow,” Prompto says, “That was dumb.”

Gladio laughs so hard Prompto’s jostled slightly by the force of it and any embarrassment Prompto was feeling vanishes right along with it.

“I made Iris a card,” Prompto tells him and Gladio’s face goes all soft, “Wait two more seconds so I can grab it?”

Prompto had made it at Noct’s yesterday, drawing Iris a fun moogle design with a page torn from his sketchbook and cut down to size. Managing to create something pretty cool with the limited art supplies in his backpack. Ignis, of course, had managed to find an envelope of appropriate size somewhere in Noct’s apartment to make it truly complete. Prompto’s message inside the card is pretty generic because he's never actually met Iris - he actually had to ask the others what would make sense because he just has no experience with this kind of thing.

Ignis had said it was very sweet and Noct had agreed a little belatedly, watching Prompto work with a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Of course,” Gladio says and Prompto beams, opening up the drivers side door and managing to climb off Gladio’s lap and onto the pavement in a not completely graceless move.

Gladio’s warm laughter follows after him.

- - -

Prompto wakes up Monday morning and basks in the knowledge he doesn’t have to do anything that day.

No school. No work.

Nothing.

He lays in bed for thirty minutes scrolling through his phone and then gets up and goes for his run.

Prompto’s almost done with it, enjoying the familiarity of running in the lower temperatures again, when he hears a sudden shout and something large and warm knock into his legs.

“Rudy! No!”

Prompto stumbles but manages to keep himself upright with some borderline embarrassing arm flailing. When he’s feeling secure again he turns just in time to see the dog - a huge ball of grey fluff - rearing around again hopping excitedly before him with it’s tail wagging and it’s tongue lolling.

“Hello, there,” Prompto says happy to be interrupted for this reason. Prompto kneels down and the dog presses forwards to push it’s face into Prompto’s hands before he can really extend them.

Prompto laughs, scratching behind their ears as they lean happily into his touch.

“I’m so sorry,” someone says to Prompto’s left. He looks up to see a slightly harried looking man in a suit topped by a stylish coat peering down at him a little fearfully.

“It’s okay,” Prompto says easily, “No harm done.”

The man’s face clears a little.

“He didn’t hurt you?” he checks, “Sometimes I don’t think he realises how big he is.”

Prompto laughs, shaking his head and straightens up, keeping one hand rubbing the top of the dogs head.

“Barely touched me,” Prompto assures him.

The man holds up a lead and beckons towards his dog and Prompto decides to try and seize an opportunity presented to him.

“Hey, do you mind if I take a picture of them? They’re adorable.”

The man drops the lead down again, “Be my guest.”

All three of Prompto’s friends get a picture of that dog sent to their inbox. Gladio’s away on a training trip, Prompto knows, but it’ll give him something nice to look at when he’s on a break or something.

-

Prompto does a little batch cooking to use up some time and make the most of his grocery shopping but by two o’clock he’s essentially taken to lying on his couch with something he’s already seen playing on Moogleflix. Prompto has tonnes of stuff in his watch list but he’s just not in the mood for any of it.

Really he’s just wasting time until Noct and Iggy are done at the Citadel, some pre-Solstice council meeting that even Ignis had admitted was almost entirely pointless and just a matter of tradition at this point.

Both of them had seemed entertained by the picture of Rudy that morning; Noct had sent a string of senseless emojis that Prompto had taken to mean he thought the dog was cute. Ignis had said as much in human words and commended Prompto’s ability to capture the animal’s sense of movement while stopping the picture from being blurry.

Gladio never messaged back but Prompto’s trying not to read too much into it. Gladio’s out of the city, service is probably terrible and he’s working. Prompto doesn’t even think about it when he opens it up to message him again, just wanting to give Gladio something to read while he’s away without his friends.

Thinking of Gladio sparks an idea in Prompto though and suddenly he stands, with purpose in mind.

He should reorganise his bookcase.

It doesn’t really take long, Prompto doesn’t have much and he makes sure to leave Gladio’s copy of Fairest Knight apart from his other books. Prompto takes it over to the coffee table and -

He’s not really sure how he didn’t spot it before, too deep in the fog of finals he supposes, but waiting for him there is another book. Title font familiar and oddly comforting.

Gladio must have left it for him. He must have bought it with him last time he was over, leaving it there for him after Prompto fell asleep on him.

It makes Prompto’s chest feel oddly tight to picture Gladio quietly leaving it there and sneaking out of his apartment so as not to wake him. Before he’d been almost annoyed that Gladio had let him sleep on rather than waking him up after a nap, wondering why Gladio never thought to ask for what he’d been offered in Prompto’s invitation to his home.

But now he’s oddly touched.

Brightest Shine the book is called and Prompto abandons his half organised bookcase in favour of reading it.

-

Noct opens his apartment door, smiling despite the oddly tense line of his brow.

“’Sup?” he says.

Prompto shrugs, “Not much. How was the Citadel?”

“Boring and annoying somehow,” Noct says, beelining back to his couch.

“There you are,” Ignis says once Prompto’s shed his shoes and coat to step into the apartment proper, “It’s not like you to be late.”

“I got distracted, sorry,” Prompto says sincerely.

“No worries,” Ignis says, “Are you hungry?”

Prompto forgot to eat but he only shrugs, “Noct said you were eating at the Citadel.”

Ignis looks at him for a long moment and then says, “I’ll fix you something.”

Prompto thanks him and steps towards the couch to sit with Noct. As he settles he checks his phone again. Six messages. He’s sent six messages to Gladio and they’ve all gone unanswered. Prompto knows he might just be busy but he also can’t help but think he’s maybe being ignored.

Prompto sends one more, just a simple thing, Gladio’s name and a few question marks, hoping the big guy will at least get back to him, even if its just to tell him to go away.

Maybe Gladio’s pleased to be away. Maybe he’s glad to be be able to avoid and ignore Prompto. He could use this as a good excuse to not message back and then just ghost Prompto completely, stop arranging meet ups and just let things stagnate to an awkward friendship and -

That’ll be that.

Prompto really wishes he’d manages to stay awake the last time they met up. Perhaps that was the final nail in his coffin, so to speak, Gladio annoyed that an evening he could have spent actually enjoying himself was instead spent acting as a glorified pillow.

Noct prods him lightly with his foot and Prompto raises his arms on instinct, letting Noct stretch his legs over Prompto’s lap.

“What’s wrong?” Noct asks.

“Huh? Nothing,” Prompto tries to tell him. Noct looks unconvinced.

“You look like you just got really bad news,” Noct points out.

“What? No. I’m fine. Being dumb,” Prompto promises.

Noct rolls his eyes, “Nothing that bothers you is dumb.”

Ignis appears at his side then, a plate and cutlery in his hands. He passes it to Prompto, who takes it and surveys it, a cold plate filled with salads and grilled meats. Prompto recognises Iggy’s pesto pasta salad but beside it is something he’s never seen before. It’s a pile of small white stuff that Prompto’s not ever seen before. It’s clearly seasoned with spices with finely cut vegetables laced through it.

“Cous cous,” Ignis says when Prompto turns his fork through it, “It’s a grain of sorts. I think you’ll like it but if you don’t please feel free to leave it.”

“It looks great,” Prompto assures him, eagerly scooping up a forkful and shoving it in his mouth.

It’s pretty fucking great, as it turns out.

Ignis smiles at Prompto’s obvious enjoyment and steps back into the kitchen.

Noct clears his throat.

“Prom,” he nudges.

Prompto sighs and glances over the back of the couch at Ignis, making sure he’s thoroughly absorbed in whatever task he’s doing.

“Gladio’s not texting me back,” Prompto admits, voice low and hoping Noct will be able to put together why this bothers him without him having to say it.

Noct frowns, “Gladio’s away.”

“I know,” Prompto says, “But I -”

“No, Prom,” Noct interrupts, “Gladio’s away and he’s not allowed his phone. He’s not ignoring you, he just has no way of responding.”

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Oh.”

Noct laughs, “Yeah. You big dummy. Gladio’s not ditching you. Trust me.”

Prompto rolls his eyes but shovels some more food towards his mouth one handed while he digs out his phone again.

He’s not sure why he feels the need to let Gladio know he understands now, but he does. Maybe he doesn’t want Gladio to get back to his phone in a few days and think that he’d hurt Prompto’s feelings and feel bad about it.

Noct squints at him so hard Prompto can feel it.

“What?” he asks.

“Gladio left his phone with Iggy. You’ve probably be buzzing his pocket all day,” Noct teases.

Prompto’s eyes widen and he glances at Ignis again but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by the two messages that just flew in to the other phone in his possession. Prompto glances once at Noct who laughs and then keeping his eyes on Ignis sends off what he assures himself will be the last message he sends Gladio’s way before he’s back from his trip - he’ll make himself wait for Gladio to reach out first, he promises himself.

Nothing.

Ignis doesn’t respond at all.

“Iggy,” Noct calls, “Are you taking messages for Gladio today?”

Ignis turns to look at them with one eyebrow raised and like a kid getting caught misbehaving Prompto twists back around to focus on his dinner.

“Gladio told me everyone knew he was away so wasn’t expecting anything that needed attending,” Ignis explains. He comes in to view then with drinks in hand, settling them on the coffee table before seating himself in Noct’s armchair.

“So why didn’t he just leave it in his office?” Noct asks.

“Crownsguard phones that potentially hold sensitive information aren’t allowed to be left unattended,” Ignis tells Noct.

Noct frowns, “What sensitive information does Gladio have?”

“Your schedule, for one,” Ignis points out, then half smirking he adds, “And I took it in case there was any sensitive information on there not suitable for his father’s eyes.”

Prompto goes red so fast it almost hurts, choking on the bit of pepper he just put in his mouth.

Ignis laughs but Noct groans, leaning back and throwing his arm over his face.

“Gross, dude,” Noct tells him.

Ignis sobers up a little and catches Prompto’s attention.

“Gladio’s immensely trustworthy but I hope you’re careful -”

“I am,” Prompto hurries to assure him, willing the redness from his cheeks, “I am. I wouldn’t send stuff to just anyone.”

Anyone else at all, Prompto thinks to himself.

Noct groans again.

“Enough of that I think, before His Highness has an aneurysm.”

- - -

Prompto’s still at Noct’s early Tuesday afternoon, having spent the night and then, per the prince’s request, not having worked his way home yet.

Noct’s looking over his course list for next semester and he suddenly sits up straight and says to no one in particular, “I should have done social studies this semester.”

“We decided not to overload your schedule with prerequisites, remember?” Ignis says.

“Yeah but this way I could have done it with Prompto,” Noct complains, “Now I have to do it alone.”

“You can have all my notes,” Prompto offers helpfully.

Ignis clears his throat and Prompto avoids looking at him.

“What ones have you got left - outside the art stuff?” Noct asks him.

“I have to do a science and a literature - either Lucian or World.”

Noct perks up, “Me too. Lets pick the same classes.”

“Dude,” Prompto says, “Yes.”

Ignis lends Prompto his laptop and together he and Noct sit side by side on the rug, computers balanced on the coffee table doing everything they can to make sure their schedules align.

“Biology?” Noct suggests, highlighting a class on his computer in a slot that neither of them currently have occupied.

“Sure,” Prompto agrees knowing whichever science they pick will likely be a struggle for him. It’s always been his weakest subject and he’s already low-key worried about it fucking up his degree. He’d been thinking to put it off until next year but maybe its smarter to get it over and done with.

“Why are you doing more art history?” Noct asks, knowing Prompto’s distaste for his Solheim Arts course.

“Necessary credit,” Prompto says, “Also, art history post-Solheim might be more interesting.”

“More variety,” Ignis agrees.

“I don’t have anything I can take when you’re in photography on Wednesdays,” Noct complains.

“I hardly doubt you’ll be able to match everything up,” Ignis points out calmly, “Nor are either of you to pick classes you don’t want to do to try and make sure you can.”

Noct sighs, but begrudgingly leaves his Wednesday morning’s free.

“Least I’m not in class right before work any more,” Prompto says, “That one class commute was killing me.”

- - -

Prompto has a late shift on Tuesday to which Ignis drives him from Noct’s apartment and then he works pretty much all day on Wednesday, closing up Sakana with Erin and getting home feeling familiarly tired and all but collapsing into bed without doing more than taking out his contacts and brushing his teeth.

Prompto’s off again on Thursday and he lets himself sleep in for a while but is ultimately dragged out of bed by his growling stomach.

There’s a pile of letters by his door and Prompto gathers them up while his kettle boils, discarding the two circulars straight into the bin. Upon spying the Insomnia University crest on one of the others he tears into it immediately.

Stupidly he thinks it might be a printed transcript of his exam results.

That’s not what it is.

Prompto has to read through the letter twice before he understands, panic rising in his chest with each word that computes inside his brain.

It doesn’t make any sense.

Prompto set up a payment plan to cover the last of his rent, he did that just a few days ago. Ellen had said it was fine, that it was all sorted and he didn’t have to think about it any more.

placement at risk …… necessary steps to …… organised by December 20th

What’s the date now? How long does he have to sort something out? Why didn’t it work before?

Student visa … null and void …… subject to usual immigration protocols

Immigration.

Prompto got through immigration on a student visa. If he’s not a student any more then what? He’s just not allowed here any more? He’ll get kicked out of his apartment, sure, but will the authorities come and round him up? Shove him back on a boat?

Will some of Noct’s Crownsguard be responsible for escorting his best friend out of his country?

Prompto picks up his phone with shaky hands, trying to get a look at the date but struggling to focus on what’s at hand.

Noct, he thinks, Noct will know what to do.

Prompto fumbles through the text, probably misspelling every word and making no sense but he sends it anyway, trying to remember the breathing technique that Noct had taught him. A deep breath in for a count and slowly release while counting again -

To five?

Or three? Is three enough?

Prompto’s barely making it to two but two out of three is better than two out of five -

There’s a sharp rap on his door and Prompto jerks up, not sure when he even folded over on himself like this in the first place.

Prompto manages to suck in a few lungfuls of air while he debates his next move, panic seemingly startled temporarily right out of him.

It's definitely temporary because Prompto can feel it fluttering about in his best.

Prompto doesn’t really want to answer it, not like he is now, but people so rarely knock on his door something tells him it must be important.

Prompto twists the lock and pulls it open a little, peering out carefully in case its something bad and he needs to slam it closed again.

It’s Gladio.

Gladio.

Prompto can’t make his mouth work in order to say hello so he simply steps back and opens the door wider to beckon him inside with his hand.

There’s a tray of coffee in Gladio's hand and Prompto manages to register that there are two drinks there in the time it takes him to get his mouth moving again.

“You’re back,” Prompto says roughly, voice a little hoarse. Gladio frowns a little and Prompto tries to gloss over the state he's in by quickly shifting up to kiss the corner of Gladio’s mouth.

“Did you guys come back last night?” Prompto asks, “Did you see my messages?”

Gladio shakes his head, “No. This morning.”

Prompto blinks. What?

“What - when?” he stutters.

Why is Gladio here if he only just got back from outside the wall?

“About twenty minutes ago,” Gladio explains. He puts down the drinks tray and lifts one free, passing it over to Prompto. Prompto tries to take it but his hands are still trembling so violently he almost drops it straight on the ground. Gladio stops that from happening but a hot spurt of coffee slips out of the gap in the lid and scalds the back of Prompto’s fingers.

“Are you serious?” Prompto asks, not quite understanding how and why this can be true.

His fingers smart a little to he blows on them before popping the one which took the brunt of the spill into his mouth for a moment.

“As the plague,” Gladio tries to joke but he’s suddenly racked by an enormous yawn that seems to take over his whole body.

Prompto watches the flex of his arms as he stretches and without thinking blurts, “And you - you came straight here?”

Gladio nods, face unreadable.

“Why?” Prompto asks.

Gladio shrugs and reaches for Prompto’s hand where it’s still hovering around his mouth. Carefully he inspects them for damage, thumb tracing the small red blemish on his forefinger before bringing it up to his mouth for a gentle kiss.

And then Gladio twines their fingers together.

Prompto’s done a lot of stuff with Gladio, a lot of intimate stuff.

But they’ve never held hands before.

It’s so stupid, so dumb. But this gesture has Prompto’s heart crashing against the side of his ribs and all his poorly buried feelings and emotions attempting to claw their way out of him once and for all.

Their hands are so different, Gladio’s huge and strong, covered in little marks from his dangerous job while Prompto’s look otherworldly pale by comparison, small and delicate in his grasp.

The hands of an artist cradled in those of a warrior.

Gladio’s face isn’t so unreadable any more but Prompto doesn’t feel any better about it, not when it looks like he’s in pain. Prompto touches his jaw with his free hand, making Gladio’s honey coloured eyes meet his own.

“Are you okay?” Prompto asks, demands really, “Did you get hurt?”

“No,” Gladio says and at first Prompto’s stomach drops, because Gladio’s not okay and then Gladio says, “I just missed you.”

Prompto’s stomach does something else, freezes he thinks, with the shock of those words.

Gladio’s not supposed to say he misses him, it’s not fair. Gladio’s not supposed to think about Prompto when he’s not there, that’s not what they are.

Prompto’s supposed to be the one putting feelings in to play that don’t belong there and Gladio’s not supposed to encourage him with words he doesn’t mean.

But -

What if?

What if Gladio does mean them?

Is it possible? Can it be possible that despite everything Prompto’s ever seen or heard about Gladio that he could actually be attached to him? Even knowing nothing could ever come of it?

Because that’s the crux of the matter really - no matter what Prompto wants and what Gladio might possibly want too they couldn’t ever be together properly. That’s why Gladio’s always had relationships like these, inconsequential casual affairs, because he’s not allowed to chose this part of his life.

Prompto’s not a hundred percent sure he understands why but he knows its true.

Still, despite all of this, Prompto finds himself smiling. Even if nothing can ever come of it just knowing that Gladio could possibly return some of his feelings is enough to fill him with elation.

Prompto drops Gladio’s hand and moves forward to hug him properly, wrapping his arms around Gladio’s waist and pressing his face into his broad chest. Gladio hugs him back, one strong arm around his shoulders and the other passing gently through his hair.

It’s been so much already this morning and Prompto feels like he might just shake apart in Gladio’s hold.

“Are you okay?” Gladio asks, smoothing a hand over Prompto’s shoulders and holding him a little tighter.

Prompto doesn’t want to put all of his negative feelings onto Gladio so he just closes his eyes and admits, “I’m glad your back.”

Gladio holds him for a long moment, just seemingly fine to exist like this but after some time has passed he sighs.

“I have to get back to the Citadel,” he says apologetically, “But can I see you tonight?”

Prompto pulls back so he can look up at Gladio’s face again, “Sure. I’m not working or anything and Noct’s at the Citadel so you can come over whenever.”

Gladio shakes his head a little and catches his eye properly, holding it stead as he explains, “I wanna take you out, I’ll pick you up when I get off work.”

Prompto feels his mouth pop open in surprise, shocked that Gladio would make a request so fervently. It goes against his rules, of course, but Prompto doesn’t seem to be able to stick to them as far as Gladio is concerned.

And maybe, if Gladio’s in the same boat as him, its okay to indulge a little. Let himself live in the fantasy just for a minute.

Gladio cups his face with one hand, tracing his lips with his thumb and it’s all too easy to give in.

Stuttering, Prompto manages, “I - yeah that sounds -”

The national chocobo theme tune interrupts his poor attempt at eloquence and Prompto startles a little.

Gladio laughs and reaches for Prompto's phone where it’s buzzing against the letter Prompto had left discarded on the counter, using his longer arms to his advantage.

“It’s Noct,” Gladio says and Prompto has no choice but to take it.

“Yeah. I probably scared him,” Prompto admits, embarrassed that he got all worked up and can’t even remember what he did at the time, “I sent him a message - I wasn’t -”

Prompto cuts himself off and connects the call before it has a chance to ring off.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Noct’s voice says at once, “Did something happen?”

“No - I’m fine now,” Prompto tries to reassure him, “I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Of course I’m worried. It seemed like - you were panicking again weren’t you? Did something happen or was it just out of no where? Did you try the breathing method I showed you. It really works but you’ve gotta practice it.”

Gladio starts to gently stroke Prompto’s hair again as Noct talks to him and its probably the only reason Prompto manages to keep his voice steady.

“Yeah, I tried the breathing stuff. I think it was working but I got - I got distracted,” Prompto explains.

Noct laughs softly in his ear, “Yeah, something surprising happening was always effective at knocking me out of it, too.”

Prompto laughs too, “Super affective yeah -”

“I’m gonna try and come over -”

“No, no. I know you’re busy,” Prompto argues.

Noct sighs, “Maybe you can come here?”

“I’m not allowed in the Citadel yet - ”

“I don’t want you so sit their stressing about something, especially if I could fix it.”

Noct doesn’t know he’s doing it of course but there he is, offering Prompto money again.

“No it was dumb. Getting worked up over nothing,” Prompto says and then adds, more honestly, “Or, nothing that matters now anyway.”

Prompto realises now he needs to check in with Ellen before he gives up all hope. Maybe there’s still something Prompto can do. And if Ellen isn't available he'll just have to suck it up and call the University administration number.

“Of course it matters!” Noct almost yells. Prompto rolls his eyes at Gladio, to let him know Noct’s being a drama queen. “You always do this. Just let me -” Noct groans and then he can hear another voice in the background, Ignis he thinks, “ - Iggy says we’re coming over later. You don’t need to do anything, we’ll bring food and you can be honest about what’s bothering you.”

“Lunch?” Prompto checks, thinking that’s actually exactly what he needs to feel better, just some time with the people that matter to him, “Sure, of course -”

“You didn’t really have a choice,” Noct teases.

“Ah, man thank Iggy for me.”

“I will. We’ll be over at about one. Depends when these old dudes manage to shut up.”

Prompto definitely hears Ignis hissing the prince’s name but Noct starts to hurriedly bid him a farewell over the noise of it.

“Bye!” Prompto says hastily before he can get hung up on.

Prompto clicks his phone off and tosses it onto the counter. It’s only then that he realises Gladio said he needs to go but he’s actually still here.

“What was bothering you?” Gladio asks gently.

Prompto tries to play it off, shrugging and avoiding Gladio’s gaze but Gladio gently grasps his chin and turns Prompto to look at him dead on.

“Prom?”

“You don’t have to deal with this,” Prompto says quickly, “I know its not what you signed up for.”

He wants Gladio to think he’s fun. To not really know just how messed up he is sometimes.

Gladio shakes his head, looking oddly fierce, “I want to - besides, we’re friends, yeah, ignoring everything else.”

Yes, Prompto thinks, friends.

If he can let Noct in, let Ignis in too, then maybe he can try and let Gladio see some of this part of his life.

Gladio’s been in Prompto’s apartment so it’s not like he doesn’t know Prompto is poor.

Prompto takes one look at the letter on his counter and tries to chose his words carefully.

“I was just money stuff - and school,” Prompto says, words stilted. And then like his brain has just been waiting for a moment to show him another horrible thought, “Then I realised I’m just on a student visa and I might have to go back to Gralea at the end of next semester while school is out and I don’t want to - I can’t,” Prompto’s breath catches and he feels his body start to shake apart once more, “But they’ll make me -”

Gladio shushes him, pulling him gently into his arms again, “Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that, okay. No ones gonna send you back there.”

Gladio sounds so certain but there’s no way he can actually know that for sure.

“But they will -”

Gladio interrupts him firmly, “Iggy can get your visa changed.”

Prompto never would have thought of that. Never would have thought to ask for something like that because it falls too close to getting favours from Noct and taking advantage of him. But then, how good of a friend can Prompto be from across the world?

“Seriously?” Prompto asks meekly.

“I’ll talk to him about it today,” Gladio promises casually like it’s nothing.

Prompto pushes up onto his tip toes to kiss him, trying to express his gratitude without words because he doesn’t feel able to make any. It’s nothing how he normally likes to kiss Gladio, no hint of finesse in any of the movements but Gladio kisses him back, matching each press with one of his own.

Prompto only stops kissing him when breathing becomes a necessity and makes sure to kiss Gladio’s chin affectionately as he falls back onto his feet.

“Thank you,” Prompto manages then, stepping in for another hug.

He wants to linger here longer, all day if possible, but he knows Gladio really has to be leaving soon so he pulls back and pats Gladio’s chest with his hand, keeping the arm up so he doesn’t just close the distance between them again.

“You gotta get to work, huh?” he says as casually as he can.

“You gonna be okay?” Gladio checks, rather than confirming anything, “I don’t wanna leave you if -”

“I’m good,” Prompto promises, “I’m gonna go for a run and now I have a lunch and a dinner date to look forward to.”

Date is probably the wrong word but Gladio doesn’t mention it. Maybe because Prompto’s implying the word applies to his time with Noct too.

Prompto actually smiles, feeling better about today than he would have thought possible half an hour ago.

Gladio grins too and leans in for one last kiss before he goes.

Chapter Text

Prompto runs.

He runs for a long time.

He doesn’t think about the letter sat on his coffee table or the hastily, probably misspelled, email he’d sent to Ellen, asking for answers as succinctly as he can.

Prompto runs and relies on the pounding of his geed against the pavement to drown everything out even though it takes a long time for the little whisper in the back of his mind telling him everything might be coming to an end to really quiet down.

Instead he thinks about Gladio’s soft words and strong arms. The way he’d kissed him so gently this morning, lingered in his doorway like he was wavering on his decision to leave Prompto alone.

It can’t mean much, Prompto knows. But it might mean something.

-

Prompto only makes it back to his apartment about forty-five minutes before Noct and Iggy are supposed to show up and he hastily showers, ignoring his growling stomach in favour of not actually smelling someone that just ran for the better part of two hours.

Besides, Iggy is bringing food, it’d be rude to eat right before he turns up.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Ignis says when Prompto opens the door for them, with a towel still draped around his shoulders.

“Starved,” Prompto admits.

Ignis has got a cooler in one hand and Prompto is beyond ready for whatever Ignis has in store for them. Noct all but barges past Ignis to get to Prompto’s kitchen and drop the bulky bag he’s carrying on the counter - it clatters alarmingly and Prompto has a brief moment of concern that the prince just broke whatever was inside it.

Prompto wants to watch Ignis cook, pick up some more tips but Noct’s suddenly right in his space, both hands on his shoulders and turning Prompto bodily towards him.

Prompto eyes Noct’s just-short-of-panic expression and with meek amusement says, “Hi.”

Noct shakes him, just a tiny bit, and looks like he’s fighting a smile.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me,” Noct says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m fine now,” Prompto says. And it’s mostly true, sure, he’ll be thinking about Ellen’s response until the second he gets it but with other things to focus on he’ll get there.

Noct rolls his eyes. Prompto hears Ignis sigh.

“Okay,” Noct says and his tone is obviously careful, he glances once at his adviser and asks, “What was wrong before?”

Prompto exhales a long breath and glances at the letter. Noct follows his eyes and frowns.

“It’s from school,” Prompto murmurs, “You can read it - I think. I think I messed up somehow. With money. Even though I have the money. And now - it’s supposed to happen automatically. I don’t - I don’t know what went wrong. And I - I have to be a student - or I - I can’t go back - ”

“Prompto,” Ignis says sharply and it’s only then that Prompto realises Noct’s been shaking him again, grip on his shoulder just shy of painful.

“Breathe please,” Ignis says more gently. He steps around the two of them to pick up the letter, brushing his hand over Prompto’s hair as he passes.

“Hey,” Noct says, “Whatever it is we’ll fix it. Breathe. Like I taught you. In for three -”

Noct breathes with him, showing him the rhythm and the motions. Prompto feels the new well of panic subside slightly every time his lungs fill.

“Better,” Ignis says, looking up from the letter, “This we’ll discuss in a moment, but Prompto. Please listen to me. Believe me when I say you will not be getting deported.”

“What?” Noct almost yelps, finally releasing Prompto so he can snatch the letter from Ignis’ hands.

Prompto looks helplessly at Ignis while Noct starts reading - easier to look at Ignis' carefully neutral expression than pay attention to the way Noct mouths words as he reads.

“Null and void?” Prompto hears Noct mumble.

“Prompto.” Ignis says, “Lucis rarely deports people at all and only when they do something truly terrible and it’s unsafe for them to remain here.”

“Really?” Prompto says - squeaks, more like.

“Failing to make a payment on time to university is not a good enough reason,” Ignis assures him, “And nor will you be asked to leave when your student visa expires. We will need to adjust the terms of your stay, however.”

“How do I - ?”

“I’ll take care of it for you. If you’ll allow me,” Ignis says.

“You should,” Noct puts in, “It sounds like paperwork and that’s boring so naturally Iggy is really good at it.”

“Won’t that take you a lot of time? And you’re so busy…”

“Will be no trouble,” Ignis, neatly sidestepping Prompto’s concern, “As Noctis said I am rather good at it.”

Prompto smiles, properly, for the first time since Gladio left this morning.

Noct flaps Prompto’s letter, frowning at Ignis.

“How did you know about this?” Noct looks at Prompto briefly, and it’s easy to spot the hurt there. Like he thinks Prompto went to Ignis instead of him, is hiding things from him.

“Gladio came to see me this morning,” Ignis says simply, to Prompto he asks, “Can I use your kitchen to make us lunch?”

Noct’s frown etches deeper.

“Knock yourself out,” Prompto says, “I don’t have much, sorry.”

“I bought anything I suspected you didn’t have,” Ignis explains.

Noct looks between Ignis and Prompto before making some odd sort of strangled noise Prompto’s never heard from him before.

“I have, like, several questions,” Noct says after a moment.

“Shoot,” Prompto says.

“I wanna loop around to the Gladio thing,” Noct says, almost painfully serious, “But first -” Noct punches Prompto lightly in the shoulder, “Prom, how come you never mentioned you were worried about this to me?”

“I didn’t really know I was,” Prompto says, “Until I got that letter.”

Noct’s expression softens as the sound of Ignis unpacking things peters out and the sound of chopping begins. Prompto glances over and spots a neat stack of bowls - three - with full sets of cutlery to match. Prompto flushes with embarrassment but is also glad Ignis had the foresight to bring them. Prompto only has two bowls and two - and a half - sets of utensils.

“How did - does Gladio know?” Noct asks.

For some reason Prompto feels himself wilt, shoulders slumping the whole shebang. He closes the two steps between himself and the couch and sinks into it. Noct follows, sitting close by his side.

“Gladio came to see me this morning,” Prompto tells him, picking at a fraying edge of an artful rip in his jeans.

Noct hesitates, “Okay.”

“It’s what distracted me from my - um, y’know,” Prompto bumbles.

“Your panic attack,” Noct says calmly. Noct likes to say it like that, like its not a big deal, like it’s normal. Prompto can’t say he feels the same way but then back in Niflheim his propensity for anxiety and panic had been seen as an annoying weakness not a thing to simply manage and control.

“Yeah,” Prompto says whisper quiet.

Prompto hears his stove light and the clank of a pan being set onto it. There’s no doubt Ignis can hear them but he seems to be pretending otherwise, giving them the best approximation of privacy he can in Prompto’s studio apartment.

“What did Gladio want?” Noct asks tone carefully casual.

“I don’t know,” Prompto says quickly, “Noct - I’m really not in the mood to fight with you about -”

“No, no,” Noct says quickly, “I’m just interested in what happened. No fighting, I promise.”

Prompto exhales, relieved.

Noct smiles but there’s a weird look in his eye.

“Are you okay?” Prompto asks.

“I’m great,” Noct says quickly, “Fantastic. So, um - Gladio. What did he say this morning? When he was here. Apparently.”

Prompto’s used to both of Noct’s speeds - a thousand words a minute or his more common stoicism - but this weird stilted pattern is so far removed from the norm that Prompto simply stares at him for a long moment.

“Prom?” Noct urges eagerly.

“He, uh - said that he wanted to take me out later,” Prompto says. And that he's missed him, but Prompto keeps that to himself so he doesn't come across like a lovesick fool.

Prompto had tried to focus on that rather than the status of his college degree but the more he’d thought about it the more he’d gotten confused.

Gladio doesn’t mean it right?

Not like Prompto would like him to mean it.

Gladio just has this weird taking care of people thing that he does, probably all tied up in his job just like it is for Ignis. Ignis brings Prompto food and buys him stuff and makes sure he’s looked after and Ignis doesn’t want to date him.

Why would Gladio be any different?

This is just what friendships are like, he’s sure.

Except.

Noct looks furious.

“He did what? What exactly did he say?”

Noct’s seething and Prompto can’t really understand why.

Noct looks between Prompto and Ignis, looks at Prompto for a long time and when he gets no response says, “He can’t just mess you around like that.”

“Noctis,” Ignis says calmly.

Noct turns the full force of his glare on Ignis and they do that thing they do sometimes where they have full conversations without words. Born, he’s sure, from a need in Ignis to be able to communicate privately with Noctis on a personal level in a room full of strangers. Prompto had thought he was getting pretty good at keeping up, at least being able to follow the theme of the conversation but today he has no idea.

“I think you may not be aware of all recent developments,” Ignis says after a while, “Some are quite recent.”

Noct's eyebrows raise and then he glances at Prompto. He looks back at Ignis and starts to smile, “Yeah?”

Ignis tilts his head in a nod.

“Huh. So this is - this is good news,” Noct says focusing on Prompto once more, “How come you don’t look happy?”

“It’s just - it doesn’t mean anything,” Prompto says. Prompto leans forwards so he can rest his elbow on his knees and press the palms of his hands to his eyes, exerting enough force that his vision starts to blur, red spots behind hie eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because it can’t can it,” Prompto says miserably.

Noct touches his shoulder gently, briefly.

“Prom,” he says, “I need some more words.”

“Well it’s like -” Prompto forces himself to sit up again but avoids their gazes, “Even if Gladio somehow had feelings for a nobody like me -”

“Prompto,” Noct seethes. Ignis goes completely silent in the kitchen for a few seconds before the sound of stirring resumes.

“Even if he did, which I really doubt he actually does… It’s not - he’s not allowed, right?” Prompto shakes his head.

It’s not fair. None of it is fair.

“I might have had all sorts of shit done to me as a kid but unfortunately they didn’t give me a way to carry children,” Prompto barrels on because if anything he’s probably sterile when you consider the exact way in which he was made, “So Gladio wouldn’t even be allowed to be with me even if he wanted because I’m useless.”

“Prompto.”

That’s Noct and Iggy scolding him. Prompto doesn’t care though. There’s nothing they could possibly say to erase these irrefutable facts.

Gladio has the casual relationships he has because he has a duty to produce an heir. An heir with a specific type of woman who he’ll be told to marry in the not too distant future. What more can Prompto be to him that what he is now?

“Prompto,” Ignis says, more gently this time.

“Gladio’s an idiot, you know that?” Noct says, sounding both angry and a little amused.

Prompto frowns at him. Gladio’s a lot of things but an idiot is not one of them.

“It’s not as cut and dry as Gladio thinks it is – as you think it is,” Ignis cuts in, “He’s not actually an idiot -” Noct scoffs “- just very stubborn when he gets an idea in his head.”

Prompto sighs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Prompto says miserably, “He doesn’t want to be with me anyway -”

“Says who?” Noct says.

Prompto’s helplessly confused. Noct’s never been supportive of his dalliance with Gladio, tolerant is a better word. But now it seems like he’s upset that thinks can’t progress further than this. Maybe it’s because he knows how Prompto feels and wants him to be happy but to push something that can just never -

Hadn’t it been Noct that told him he had to end it before Prompto got hurt?

Prompto stands, pacing the narrow gap between his couch and his coffee table. Noct tucks his legs up onto the couch.

“It’s not like I’m the only one he’s seeing,” Prompto says. He has no proof of this, of course, other than a gut feeling that someone like Gladio could never be content with only what Prompto has to offer, “And he never stays, he just goes home afterwards and it doesn’t bother him. Plus. Y’know, he’s said as much. So many times we’ve had the conversation about what we are - like he, like he knows I need reminding because I get dumb.”

Prompto takes in a deep breath and tries not to feel how intensely his friends are looking at him.

Whatever Iggy is cookimg smells good, at least, and Prompto focuses in on that instead with a stubborn, blind determination.

“Do you need some help, Iggy?” Prompto asks him.

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” Ignis says, even as he’s taking the lid off a container and emptying its contents - a thick red sauce - over the meat sizzling in Prompto’s pan. Immediately the waft of spices reaches Prompto’s nose and his stomach gurgles eagerly.

Noct grabs his wrist as Prompto moves past him - still pacing, Prompto realises. Prompto goes in the direction of the tug, settling back beside Noct on the couch.

“What do you mean that he never ‘stays’?” Noct asks, genuinely confused.

“After we’re, y’know, together, he just goes home straight after,” Prompto explains awkwardly.

“That -” Noct makes a face, like the idea is painful to him, “I know I have zero experience here, but that feels like it would be - not nice.”

Noct glances at Ignis like he’ll looking for confirmation. Ignis tilts his head and makes a half shrug.

“It’s common in relationships with no commitment,” Ignis says carefully, “Sleeping in the same bed is particularly intimate -”

“Because having your dick inside someone is super impersonal,” Noct cuts in.

Ignis fixes him with one of his looks but Prompto snorts.

“You don’t like it,” Noct tells Prompto, not asking.

Prompto shrugs. He doesn’t really like being alone ever, even if he’s used to it.

“Everything will seem better on a full stomach,” Ignis says and Prompto looks up to realise he’s ladling the meat and sauce over mounds of fluffy rice, piles of green vegetables off to one side.

Noct scrunches his nose at all that green when he takes his bowl, but doesn’t outwardly comment on it.

Prompto settles on the floor with his food, despite Iggy’s protests, so the other two can sit comfortably on the couch together. Prompto has no idea what this food is but it’s spicy and sour and just a little sweet and one of the best things he’s ever tasted.

He tells Ignis as much.

“Good job there are plenty of leftovers then,” Ignis says, then idly he says, “It should freeze well too.”

Prompto beams at him.

When the bowls are scraped clean, Noct raids Prompto’s stash of soda and makes Iggy the best coffee he can manage with Prompto’s supplies. It’s both a thank you, Prompto thinks, for the meal and an apology for scraping half his veggies into Prompto’s bowl. Prompto thinks Noct’s nuts, with the sauce it’s impossible to even taste the vegetables.

“I hate to dampen your good mood,” Ignis says, coffee half done.

“You guys have to go soon?” Prompto suspects. They have been here a while now, and he knows that Ignis had probably had to rearrange things at the Citadel to make time for him.

“Soon. But also. We never got round to discussing your financial issue,” Ignis says.

Noct sits forward.

“Oh,” Prompto says amazed that he’d actually managed to forget for a little while.

Noct opens his mouth -

“Don’t,” Prompto begs, “Don’t offer.”

Noct deflates.

“I don’t think its a matter of you not having the money, Prompto, as you said, it’s there,” Ignis reminds them, “I think its simply a clerical error.”

“A - what?”

“Did you notice the date on the letter?” Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head and reaches for it, taking in the short line of numbers after his address.

Oh.

That was -

“Ten days ago?”

Ignis hums. “I suspect the letter was sent before you arranged your payment,” Ignis says, “And another letter will soon follow. Unfortunately the postal service in Insomnia is rather dire this time of year.”

Oh.

That’s -

Hopefully Ignis is right. Prompto wants him to be right.

“Did you try and speak to your adviser lady person?” Noct asks.

Prompto barely buries a snort at Noct’s terminology.

“I emailed Ellen, yeah. But I don’t know if she’s done for the holidays or something.”

Ignis smiles reassuringly, “Can you try not to worry about it? For a few days at least, to give everything time to process?”

Every part of Prompto is unanimously bad at not worrying, even when there’s even less to worry about than there is now.

“I can try,” he offers.

“You’ve got a nice date to think about today,” Noct says, “That should keep your mind off it for a while.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “It’s not even a date, really.”

“You don’t know that,” Noct says.

“Neither do you,” Prompto retorts.

Ignis clears his throat before it can dissolve into out and out bickering. Not that they ever would really, Prompto thinks. They’d burst into laughter way before then.

“Ignis agrees with me,” Noct says, “Iggy knows I’m right - that Gladio likes you.”

The two of them share a look that Prompto can tell says a lot of words even if he has no idea what any of them are.

“How Gladio feels about Prompto is Gladio’s own business,” Ignis says after a while.

Noct glares at him.

“Well I know how Prompto feels,” Noct says, “And I think he should tell Gladio.”

Prompto blanches. Actually feels a little sick at the thought.

“No,” Prompto hisses, too out of sorts to even realise that maybe he should have denied everything in front of Ignis. Even though this all feels a little beyond that now.

“Why?” Noct asks, “What have you got to lose?”

Gladio, he thinks, he’ll lose Gladio.

He’ll lose what little part of Gladio’s life he’s allowed now.

“It’s like that dumb pizza talk you tried on me,” Noct says.

Ignis looks surprised. Maybe hearing Noct say pizza and dumb in the same sentence has never happened before.

“Say you and Gladio are right - you’re not, but say you are - so you guys can’t be together forever because babies,” Noct says, gesturing with his hands, “Then you should tell Gladio and you two can be together until that time comes. Its like you said, having more of the thing you like before it goes away. Not less.”

Prompto was surprised when his analogy worked on Noct so it’s no surprise it has zero effect on Prompto himself.

Not to mention this a complete turnaround on what Noct had been telling him just a few days ago.

Prompto's lost the ability to keep up with Noct's opinions, it seems.

“But that’s not what Gladio wants,” Prompto reminds him.

“Gladio probably wants you to be honest,” Noct mutters, “I know I’d want you to be honest.”

That’s actually a fair point.

Prompto is being dishonest. He’s never really thought of it that way.

Mostly he’s kept his feelings to himself to spare himself. But Gladio has a right to know, doesn’t he? Prompto would want to know, if the roles were reversed. He’d want to know if interactions between him and the person he was with meant something else to them.

He thinks about the times he has been hurt when his feelings developed only to discover the other person wasn’t interested. That’s precisely what’s happened now of course but at least he’d known it was for nothing. Somehow that had made it hurt less.

Not a rejection. Just a disappointment.

He wouldn’t want to be responsible for making someone feel like that. Even if he didn’t know he was doing it.

Gladio has a right to know. If they’re going to carry on this thing between them.

“I’ll think about it,” Prompto murmurs even though he still feels unsure about it.

“You will?” Noct asks, looking ridiculously happy.

Prompto nods and then suddenly Noct has flung himself off the couch to hug him. It leaves the prince awkwardly splayed across his lap but Prompto attempts to embrace him back as best he can even though he has no idea why this is happening.

“I think this is a really good idea,” Noct says low, close to his ear, “It’s gonna work out. I know it.”

Prompto manages to smile when Noct pulls away. It’s hard, really, to be that worried when Noct looks so happy and confident with what he’s saying.

Ignis too, looks unconcerned. Pleased maybe. Definitely a little indulgent.

So yeah, maybe Prompto will try to tell Gladio how he feels.

Maybe.

-

From: Ellen Worth ([email protected])

To: Prompto Argentum ([email protected])

02/12/756 15:21

Hi Prompto,

Let me assure you that everything we arranged it in place

and ready to go. The letter was sent automatically on an

automated system before our meeting and has since been

overwritten by the actions we took. I’m sorry that it

reached you like this and gave you cause to worry but your

place here is perfectly secure and you have nothing to worry

about.

I’ve attached a copy of the letter updating you to this so

you don’t have to wait for IMS to get it to you.

Sorry again. Enjoy your Solstice and don’t hesitate to email

again if you have any more questions.

Ellen :)

Prompto takes a screenshot of the message and send it to both Ignis and Noct on the off chance they’re not together right now. It’s a very small chance but a chance nonetheless.

[Prompto 15:40] you were right.

He sends to Ignis.

[Prompto 15:41] Ignis was right.

He sends to Noct.

[Ignis 15:44] Glad to hear it.

[Noct 15:44] sometimes thats really annoying. today its okay

-

It’s not a date.

Prompto keeps telling himself that.

But -

Prompto lays out all of his jeans on his bed and looks them over. Then adds all his nice tops as well, laying them above the jeans he thinks they’ll look best with.

He ends up with pair of jeans Noct had given him a few weeks back, seeming a little forlorn to part with them but lamenting their future life of being stuck forever in his wardrobe or being horribly altered. Ignis hadn’t forbidden him from wearing them - because technically he doesn’t have that authority - but Noct had said it was heavily implied.

They’re a bit more ripped than he’d usually wear but it’s not like his whole thigh would be bare. Prompto had taken them gratefully with a promise to show them a real good time. Prompto thinks Noct had wanted him to wear them in front of Ignis and he makes a mental note to do that soon. But Gladio will get to enjoy them first.

Eventually he decides on a thin but warm sweater he’d gotten a little while ago at the mall with Noct. It was outside his normal price range but half off and he’d given in and bought it mostly because he’d spent so long touching the soft fabric Noct was likely to get it for him if Prompto didn’t buy it himself. It had languished in a drawer since then, too nice for normal wear and subsequently putting it on to see Gladio before now would have been making a statement he wasn’t willing to make.

Even if only he understood what it meant.

It probably should stay that way now, as far as Prompto’s concerned but he imagines the sweater as just a pile of money in his drawer and it seems a shame to continue ignoring it.

Prompto even takes a minute to clean his boots before he does his hair, just trying to delay the inevitable where he’s completely ready an hour before Gladio gets there.

He’s only ready forty-five minutes early in the end, even though he spends twice as long on his hair than normal.

He doesn’t really know why he’s doing this, it makes little sense.

Gladio already knows what he looks like. Gladio won’t care.

For all Prompto knows they’ll go out for like half an hour and then be back at his with his carefully planned outfit on the floor.

Maybe he misunderstood completely and they won’t go out at all. Prompto getting dressed simply to get undressed again.

Forty-five minutes is a long time - if you’re Prompto - to be left alone with your thoughts and by the time Gladio actually knocks on his door he’s half convinced Gladio’s not coming at all, jumping at the sudden noise.

Prompto opens the door and then his mouth to say hello but any greeting he might have given is swallowed up by Gladio’s kiss.

It lingers, toe curling intense and deep.

Prompto sighs a little, fighting to keep both feet on the ground rather than kick one up behind him like a teenage girl in a movie.

“You look amazing,” Gladio tells him, voice a little rough.

And, well -

All of the fussing was suddenly worth it.

Prompto grins and bites his lip, cheeks going warm all at once.

“I stole these jeans from Noct,” Prompto tells him, “Ignis wanted to sew up all the tears.”

Gladio smiles too, “And he calls me a menace.”

Prompto laughs brightly, a bubbling sense of relief inside him that Gladio is here and he’s not bustling them immediately back inside.

Hopeful, but shy, he reaches for Gladio’s hand, placing his hand into uncertainly in case Gladio’s not up for hand holding.

Prompto feels childish but he has to suppress happy giggles when Gladio presses their palms against one another and twists their fingers together.

“So are we going somewhere?” Prompto asks instead of where are we going? just in case.

Gladio’s smile pulls wider, “I said we were. Have you been down to the harbour yet?”

Prompto nods. He’s only been down the once and he’d turned it into work but it’s beautiful.

“I went down to take picture for class,” Prompto tells him, “There’s some cool architecture there - and obviously the water’s pretty.”

“Ah, so you’ve probably seen the Royal Theatre before,” Gladio says. Prompto thinks he might be a little disappointed but certainly not annoyed, “Grab your coat, its cold out.”

Prompto has to drop Gladio's hand to follow the suggestion but the breeze blowing through his open door is chilly. He shrugs into the lighter of his jackets and then meets Gladio at the door again, slipping his hand back into Gladio’s.

“I actually submitted a shot of it in my portfolio,” Prompto says, picking up the thread of their conversation, “I managed to get there for sunset and I got a wicked shot of it going down behind the uh - whichever of the King’s it is.”

Gladio squeezes his fingers and tells him, “I think its a Queen actually.”

Gladio waits patiently while Prompto locks up - which involves an involved process of pulling the handle up and then back down again and pushing on the door to check the bolt slid into place.

It's probably a super easy lock to bust, Prompto's glad he doesn't have much to steal.

At the car Gladio keeps hold of his hand until he’s got the car door open and then gently ushers him into it. Prompto doesn’t swoon at the sweet gesture because he’s immediately sat down after but it’s a close call.

Maybe it is a date.

Its not quite like the other times they’ve gone out before. Gladio’s never been inattentive but this is something else altogether.

“What are we doing at the Theatre?” Prompto asks. Gladio had asked about the harbour, which Prompto knows is full of food stalls and lined with restaurants but he’d specifically mentioned the theatre.

“They’re showing Solarium -”

Prompto gasps, “Holy shit, no way.”

Gladio chuckles, “They’ve got a whole lot of Gralean stuff there at the moment. There’s a gallery and everything but I don’t think it’ll be open this evening,” Gladio explains, words tinged with the hint of an apology, “If you want to come back and look at it another day though we can.”

Prompto doesn’t really know if he wants that at all. Gralean art is an odd thing. Mostly old, because Niflheim’s move towards military a hundred years or so had consumed everything else and they’d never quite recovered the other parts of their culture.

Prompto’s very existence is living proof of that.

“Solarium is the only good thing Niflheim ever made so I doubt it,” Prompto says, instead of trying to work through his feelings.

“That’s not true,” Gladio retorts.

“Uh, yes it is.”

“Made you didn’t it,” Gladio teases

“Oh my gods,” Prompto whines, knowing its a joke but unable to help the happy rush the words bring, completely covering the twinge of discomfort at the suggestion he was made.

“Don’t even,” Prompto add, laughing a little.

When they’ve settled Prompto turns fully to look at Gladio and asks, “How did you know? About Solarium?”

“I asked Noct for advice,” Gladio admits.

“Wait, really?” Prompto asks, wondering when and how and why this happened, “Why?”

“I wanted this to be special,” Gladio says gently.

Prompto struggles for a moment, the swell of hope in his chest painful. He tries to speak, fails once and manages to get some words out.

“I’m really - I’m really glad we’re doing this.”

It’s not everything he wants to say, but its something.

Maybe Noct;s right, maybe Prompto should tell him. He should do it now, he should -

“Me too,” Gladio says.

Prompto can't do it. He can't make himself risk whatever this has become.

When Gladio's turned the car onto the main straight road that leads to across to the other side of the city he takes one hand off the wheel to rest on Prompto’s thigh. Prompto covers that hand with his own.

“Oh, hey, I kind of monopolised the conversation this morning,” Prompto says, only feeling a little embarrassed, “How was your trip?”

“Good,” Gladio says, “Felt long. But the recruits are good, interesting to check out the Glaive for a change.”

“You normally work with the Crownsguard?” Prompto checks. He’s learnt bits and pieces over time - Iggy is technically a member but he has no formal duties in that capacity - but what Gladio’s job entails apart from heading Noct’s security is a little beyond him.

“Mhm. I mostly train new recruits because if you can’t handle training with me then you’ll never make it a week with Cor and then I help out with specialist weapon training for the ones that go the way I do.”

Something about that name - Cor - fills Prompto with an odd feeling. Almost deja vu but not quite.

“Dumb civilian question,” Prompto says, “Difference between the Guard and the Glaive?”

Gladio chuckles, “Not dumb. The Crownsguard generally stays in Insomnia, keeps things peaceful here, protects the royal family and the Kingsglaive are responsible for things in Lucis at large and beyond the borders.”

“Huh,” Prompto says. Wondering if it was Glaive that had been at the facility the day they’d been rescued.

“It’s changed a lot over history, and when we were at war everyone did what was needed, obviously and those at the top tend to blur lines. My boss is Marshal of the Crownsguard but his duties always send him outside the wall because he’s so good at reconnaissance.”

Prompto thinks it’s interesting but also, for some reason, it makes him think about what his role in the military would have been if they’d never been rescued and he’d made it to sixteen.

Cannon fodder, probably.

“You’re super high up, right?”

Gladio half shrugs, “I guess technically I’m third in command for the Crownsguard, but my Dad is head of the Guard and his duties are only to look after King Regis and when Noct takes a more active role that’s what’ll happen to me. The Marshal and his officers have always been responsible for the day to day running of the Guard and the Glaive have their own Captain.”

“Sound complicated,” Prompto admits. Part of him reeling from the bomb that Gladio’s third in command for half the Lucian military.

Wild.

Makes sense why his legacy is so important.

“Sounds more so than it is - but then I grew up with it so I can’t really say,” Gladio acknowledges. He squeezes Prompto’s fingers, “What about you though. Rest of your day better?”

“Good,” Prompto says, “Iggy made - uh, something, but it was really good and one of the things bothering me kind of figured itself out. Thanks for talking to Iggy, by the way, about my visa and stuff.”

Gladio brings their joined hands towards his mouth so he can briefly kiss Prompto’s knuckles, “Said I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, But still. “Thank you.”

Gladio has to let go of his hand completely then, to shift gears and turn them off the main road. After that its only a short drive towards the harbour. Perhaps owing to it being midweek Gladio manages to find parking in the theatre’s lot.

Gladio leads him to a line of people waiting at ticket collection and in a few minutes they’re holding real tickets, made of thin card. Prompto hopes he gets to keep at least a little of it.

There’s a concession stand selling more than just the usual popcorn and nachos and Prompto’s half intrigued by the soft pretzel bites but he’s been fed by Iggy today and assumes Gladio will want proper food after this so he doesn’t say anything and just confirms, when Gladio double checks, that lemonade is his favourite. Still, something in his intrigue must have shown because Gladio orders a small bag of the pretzels and when they settle into their seats he places the bag directly in Prompto’s lap with a kiss to the temple.

The theatre’s half full by the time the lights dim - and the pretzels half gone - but Gladio managed to get fairly good seats, most of the way back and towards the centre if not dead on.

Prompto sighs when the opening music starts up a pleasant bubble of fond nostalgia swelling in his belly. Gladio raises the arm rest between their seats and takes his hand again, resting it gently on his own thigh.

Prompto gets absorbed enough into the familiar plot he almost forgets it’s Gladio by his side, holding his hand, but never quite completely.

The heroine stands before Ifrit, hand clutching the fur of her animatronic sidekick - some kind of dragon shaped beast - and even though he knows her death is a fake out he still mourns her alongside her companions, struggling to completely suppress the well of emotion this brings and he tries to blink away his tears as subtly as possible, raising fingertips to wipe away his tears.

Gladio lets go of his hand then and for a sickening moment he thinks Gladio’s annoyed or disgusted by the display but he simply shifts and wraps his strong arm over Prompto’s shoulders, encouraging him into his side. Prompto happily snuggles down there, head partially on his chest as he watches the final half.

Even to this day, ten years after he first saw the movie and maybe thirty since it was first made, Prompto thinks the combination of real and computer based special affects are amazing. Shiva swoops in to bless the Heroine and deploy the weapon she’s unwilling to wield herself and the icy affect across the lens and the scenery stuns him all over again.

Prompto hopes Gladio’s enjoying it but he can understand if he’s not. It’s something of a cult classic in Niflheim but, essentially, it’s a kids film. No bad language, no violence that can’t be described as cartoonish and the only romantic subplot is that between Ifrit and Shiva. Prompto’s pretty sure that all these things were what allowed him to fall in love with it as a kid but maybe it’s not the best when you’re viewing it for the first time approaching your mid twenties.

Gladio doesn’t act bored though. He even patiently lets Prompto sit through the first two songs of the credits as they play, familiar and warming, some of his only happy memories from childhood.

Prompto shifts as the end part of the credits start, a list of studios with a boring instrumental that means nothing to him in a loop over the top, and presses a kiss to Gladio’s jaw. It’s rough and pleasant against his mouth and idly Prompto wonders when was the last time he shaved.

It’d probably take Prompto a year to grow that much hair and even then it wouldn’t spread much further than his chin.

“We can go,” Prompto murmurs even though almost everyone else is already gone.

Gladio twists his head slightly so their lips touch briefly. “I don’t mind watching ‘til the end if you wanna listen,” he all but whispers.

Prompto shakes his head, “It’s just this over and over now.”

Gladio gives him a smile Prompto can only just make out in the dim light and gets to his feet with a soft groan, stretching his back a little before holding out his hand for Prompto to take.

They head out of the theatre, not bothering to loop them around back towards the car, instead walking towards where Prompto can just hear the gentle movement of water in the harbour.

“You can admit you didn’t like it,” Prompto half teases. Only half because he also wants Gladio to know he won’t care if Gladio actually doesn’t like it, just the gesture of watching it with him is everything.

A breeze catches them and Prompto adjusts his jacket to stop it flapping about but Gladio drops his hand to wrap around his shoulders like he’s worried Prompto might be cold. Prompto hasn’t really been cold since he moved to Lucis but he leans into it anyway, wrapping his own arm around Gladio because obviously.

“It was,” Gladio hesitates, clearly thinking of the right word. Prompto’s already smiling before Gladio finishes, “Interesting.”

Prompto laughs, shoulders shaking under Gladio’s arm, “It’s probably bad without a dose of nostalgia. But the special affects were super good for their time.”

“The animatronics were cool,” Gladio agrees, musing, “It sucks no one does stuff that way any more.”

“I’d like to see what someone could do with the concept today,” Prompto says, “Still use all the old fashioned stuff but just better cameras if nothing else, you know.”

Gladio nods in agreement and slowly they make their way towards a row of food stalls. Prompto lets himself be led over to particular stand without paying attention, only turning to look at the large chalkboard menu when the pleasant scent of spices tickles his nose.

Prompto can tell its Galahdian before he even reads the menu - leaning into Gladio’s side the whole time - but when he does he spots a few dishes the same or at least similar to the restaurant he goes to with Noct and/or Iggy sometimes.

Which they only go to without Gladio.

Because Gladio doesn’t like Galahdian food.

Gladio seems surprised when Prompto suddenly straightens up and starts tugging on his arm to lead him away.

“We should eat somewhere else,” Prompto explains when Gladio doesn’t budge. Prompto has no hope of making him budge, after all.

“Why?”

“You don’t like Galahdian food,” Prompto explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Which he assumes it is, seeing as Gladio’s the one that doesn’t like it.

It’s super sweet of Gladio to want to eat what Prompto likes at his own expense but there’s plenty of other stuff here that could make them both happy.

Gladio holds firm against Prompto’s efforts to move him though, shaking his head a little and looking nervous.

“No that’s not - shit,” Gladio starts. He sounds awkward somehow, “That’s not true.”

Prompto frowns and steps right up into his space, wondering how he can make him feel more at ease. Gladio makes him feel better instead, by pressing a warm kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t go to that restaurant because - well, shit I’m sorry, I used to have a thing with one of the waiters and it didn’t end the way he wanted it to so he’s banned me, basically.”

Gladio says it fast, all in one breath and it takes a measurable amount of time for Prompto’s brain to register his words.

He laughs.

And laughs.

Gladio waits him out, looking fond if a little exasperated when Prompto’s finally recovered.

“Wait, so you haven’t had Semur Skewers in forever just because some guy got a heart-on for you?” Prompto asks, still tittering a little.

Gladio laughs, a surprised sound, “A what? Did you just say heart-on?”

“You knows like a boner but with your feelings?” Prompto explains. He could explain them well, he knows all about them.

Gladio tugs Prompto back into the circle of his arms and laughs softly into his hair.

“Have they got them here?” Gladio asks, glancing over at the menu.

-

Prompto disposes of all their trash before Gladio can and strolls back towards their table - overlooking the water and very romantic if he says so himself - under his playful glower.

Gladio spreads his legs a little further and encourages Prompto between them, placing his hands on Prompto’s hips and tilting his head up for a kiss Prompto gifts him happily.

“You ready to go?” Gladio asks, “Or you wanna walk around a while?”

“I’m ready to take you home,” Prompto specifies.

Gladio grins and stands to lead them back to the car.

Traffic is worse, somehow, so the ride home feels both longer because of that but shorter in the way return journeys always do. About halfway there Gladio reaches over to squeeze his thigh.

“So how many times have you seen Solarium? Noct only told me it was your favourite as a kid?”

“Loads,” Prompto tells him, “We had like maybe a half dozen DVDs at the kids home so it was just an endless loop of that and other stuff I didn’t really enjoy.”

Gladio makes a faint noise and Prompto doesn’t know if he’s distressed at the reminder Prompto grew up in a children’s home or just the idea that he was perpetually bored.

“You don’t have a copy now?” Gladio asks.

Prompto shakes his head, “I never bothered to get a copy because it was on Moogleflix in Niflheim and if I was paying for that it wasn’t worth the money.”

It never would have survived the purge of all his belongings when he moved either.

“Moogleflix is different in different places?” Gladio says sounding like its the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah. I imagine Tenebrae has loads of stuff we’ve never seen. Stuff that doesn’t work outside the place its set. Bet all their stuff is named after flowers,” Prompto says.

Gladio clears his throat.

Prompto laughs, “I never said that was a bad thing.”

Gladio digs his fingers lightly into his thigh and Prompto squeals at the tickling sensation, clamping his hand over the top of Gladio’s to make it stop.

“I think stuff named after flowers is the coolest, manliest shit ever,” Prompto says breathlessly and Gladio stops his assault.

“That’s what I thought,” Gladio agrees. Slowly his thumb makes circles just above Prompto’s knee.

“You can probably make Moogleflix think you live in Gralea still,” Gladio muses.

“Yeah. No thanks,” Prompto says, “It was missing all the best Lucian stuff. Niflheim is, at it’s best, pro-Niflheim and it’s worst anti-Lucis. I’ll stick with what I have.”

Gladio grins and Prompto thinks he could look at that smile, softly lit by passing street lights, forever.

-

Prompto braces his hand on Gladio’s hip and slips his fingers free from his entrance - he’s a wide as he’s willing to spread himself on something that isn’t Gladio’s dick.

Prompto’s not going to lie, he’s more than a little eager to live out this fantasy that’s been rattling around inside his head for the last week or so.

“Shit, shit, okay - I’m good,” Prompto says, giggling breathlessly.

He shifts forward, briefly touching Gladio’s dick with his lubed fingers and attempting to seat himself over it.

But then Gladio’s gripping his hip and stopping him from getting what he wants.

“Baby,” Gladio says, voice tight, “We need a condom.”

Right.

Right.

Prompto understands the difference between want and need here. He wants to sink down on Gladio’s cock with nothing between them but he knows he needs to be safe while the possibility Gladio's enjoying other people is still on the table.

Prompto whines but dutifully leans over Gladio’s form to retrieve protection from his bedside drawer. He’s running low - on stuff ideal for Gladio anyway - but he’s hesitant to buy more on the off chance this ends soon and he’s left with useless reminders of a better time.

Gladio strokes round from his hip to his ass while he scrambles for one and Prompto’s had a strict no touching policy up until this point but now he’s burning for Gladio to touch him, be everywhere all at once, all over him.

Prompto rears back with his prize, tearing into it with his teeth and smoothing it over the impressive flesh between Gladio’s thighs impatienttly. He thinks he’s finally going to get what he wants but Gladio tuts and presses a hand to his chest to stop him.

Prompto whines again and its a pitiful sound to his own ears.

Gladio digs out the discarded lube and squeezes some onto his dick, taking some time to spread it over himself - too long, in Prompto’s opinion.

Finally Gladio lets him shift up and over, seating himself fully onto Gladio’s length in a swift move that stretches him in a way that burns, hot and fast and good. Prompto cries out with his head tilted back, writhing slightly to get used to the feeling of Gladio inside him at this angle.

Gladio’s hands grip the tops of Prompto’s arms gently and he’s tugged downward, Gladio taking a long considering look at his face before pulling him in for a kiss.

Prompto tries to shift his hips, to start riding him properly - he’d wanted to go slow and long but he’s not sure he’ll make it now - but Gladio holds his hips completely still, locked in a grasp as solid as iron while he maps Prompto’s mouth with his tongue. There’s something about the feeling, the helplessness of being unable to move while stuffed completely full that fills up his chest and his stomach. Exhilarating and new.

“Gladio,” Prompto mumbles, just shy of begging, “C’mon, please.”

Gladio gently pushes him upright again, laughing softly at the needy expression on his face and when Prompto’s settled Gladio lightly taps his ass, fingers barely making a sound against his skin.

Prompto’s dick twitches in interest and in the long line of things Prompto thought he might enjoy that had never occurred to him. Now it’s occurring to him a lot and he half wants to climb back off Gladio and lay himself prone over his lap and ask for a stronger slap, one that’ll leave his skin pink and slightly sore.

Instead, Prompto rolls his hips, focusing on what he wanted before and thoughts of anything else abandon him as he sets up a even pace, grinding his hips smoothly to keep Gladio deep and provide a glorious friction.

Prompto groans low when he brushes Gladio right up against his prostate and it must feel good for Gladio too because he echoes with a noise of his own.

“Fuck, you look so good, baby, Gods,” Gladio mutters, one hand bracing his hip and the other trailing up his chest to toy with his nipples.

Prompto all but squeals, the flash of pleasure shooting straight to his dick and his hips jerk harshly, seating Gladio inside him at a deeper angle, blunt pressure against his prostate.

Prompto shifts, struggling to find the perfect angle and Gladio hushes him absentmindedly, the hand playing with his chest turning to gentle pressure that has Prompto arching his back over Gladio’s thighs, bracing himself on Gladio’s legs so he doesn’t fall completely backwards. The next time he rolls down he gasps, pleasure almost blinding him and Prompto shifts away from it then back down in a fast roll, building momentum.

“That’s it,” Gladio praises him. Gladio starts to raise and lower his own hips in the small space he has, adding even more to Prompto’s overworked nerves. Prompto’s next moan is more like a sob and he’s done with slow.

So, so done with slow he doesn’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea in the first place.

He hooks his feet onto Gladio’s thighs to give himself the leverage to really ride him, bouncing in his lap.

Prompto lets himself get lost in the action, the feel of Gladio’s dick splitting him open again and again, the slightly rough feel of the hair on his thighs against his ass, the tight grip of his fingers on his hip that move without warning to take hold of Prompto’s neglected dick.

Prompto freezes, pressed tight against Gladio, thighs trembling as he tries to cope with the new sensation.

“Oh fuck. I can’t -” Prompto sobs.

Gladio nudges his hips and encourages him with a rough, needy, “Yes you can.”

Prompto doesn’t have the energy to lift himself up any more, all he can do is wind back and forth, not letting Gladio escape him and just grinding him relentlessly against the soft spot inside him.

Gladio works him with steady strokes, rough and fast and Prompto teeters, impossibly close to the edge without falling over until all at once the string inside him snaps and he opens his mouth in a silent screams coming and coming and coming with Gladio inside and around him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Gladio praises, “So good, perfect, you beautiful boy -”

Perfect.

Gladio starts to fuck up into him, hips jerky and a little uncoordinated and at first Prompto doesn’t really notice the way it stabs at his prostate, still coming down from his high. Prompto doesn’t even notice he’s being held up at first, Gladio's hand tight on his ass but as soon as he whines, on the edge of desperation.

Gladio slows down and it makes no sense when Prompto can feel him throbbing inside him, presumably so close to coming himself he must be able to taste it.

Prompto knocks Gladio's hand away from his dick, to stop it from being too much and starts to ride him again, short jerky movements that are all Prompto can find the energy for.

His thighs are still trembling.

“I want it,” Prompto moans, trying to egg him on, “Come on, fucking fill me up Gladio. Please. Fucking use me.”

Gladio holds him tight with both hands, stopping his movement all together again and thrusts up into him roughly, an indescribable rhythm Prompto can’t follow and then he’s coming a rough growl building in his throat and tumbling from his mouth as a groan.

Prompto can’t actually feel him coming with the condom in the way, but he feels the way Gladio's cock jerks right before he's pinning Prompto's hips down without a breath between them.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Prompto says allowing himself to finally flop forward against Gladio’s broad, heaving chest.

Prompto presses a kiss right between Gladio’s pecs and listens to his heart racing, his own breath coming a little easier as it slows and Gladio’s hands petting gently up and down his spine.

Gladio is the one that recovers first, somehow, helping Prompto raise himself up just enough for Gladio to slip out of him.

Prompto feels bereft when he’s gone, even more so when he climbs off the bed altogether leaving him open and sticky. Empty in the obvious physical way as well as a slowly expanding feeling in his chest.

He almost startles when Gladio’s hands touch his back but rolls over at his insistence and laying still and pliable as Gladio cleans him up, softly wiping his tacky skin with a warm, damp cloth.

Gladio’s going to leave now, he thinks, alone in this bed with the ache of their joining still between his thighs. Prompto plays at dozing, hoping to avoid a potentially painful goodbye.

Tonight was so perfect. Too perfect. Whatever Gladio’s intentions might have been all he’s done is make Prompto fall harder and deeper, eager for more of this tender, doting side of the Shield.

The bed shifts when Gladio climbs in beside him, slipping his arm over Prompto’s waist. Prompto tries not to seem as visibly surprised as he feels.

“Can I stay?” Gladio asks and Prompto's attempts at keeping his cool are for nothing.

“You don’t have - do you want to?” Prompto asks, eyes popping open to study Gladio’s face.

“Of course. Please?”

Prompto smiles without meaning too and shifts closer, Gladio rolling more onto his back so Prompto can half drape himself over his body. Prompto can see the dark lines of Gladio’s tattoo creeping over his shoulder and he reaches out to touch the precise lines.

“Sorry my bed’s so small,” Prompto apologises, hoping Gladio will be able to get comfortable.

“Oh yeah,” Gladio teases, squeezing Prompto’s waist, “This is awful.”

Prompto laughs and lets the last bit of tension drain from his body.

Whatever this is between them now Prompto hopes he can hang onto it for as long as he can.

“Maybe we can go for breakfast in the morning,” Prompto mumbles, hoping he can hang onto it for longer.

Gladio kisses the top of his head, “Whatever you want, Freckles.”

Prompto smiles and lets his eyes drop closed. Gladio smells good even now, maybe a little like Prompto even.

Tired and faintly aching but wonderfully content, Prompto falls asleep.

- - -

Prompto’s rolled over in the night so he wakes up with Gladio warm along the length of his back and his arm heavy around his waist.

He feels almost giddy, overjoyed that Gladio’s still here, close enough to feel the expansion of his chest every time he inhales.

Prompto finds himself wide awake, so he carefully slips out of the bed - he’s between Gladio and the wall so it takes a little ingenious manoeuvring - so the big guy can get a little more sleep if he wants it. Prompto’s kind of hard wired to wake up before eight every morning but not everyone can handle that like he does.

Prompto shuts himself away in his bathroom, taking his wristband off for the first time in twenty-four hours and starts the shower. He hopes Gladio’s not too light a sleeper or doesn't try to surprise him in here. That would be fun sure, but he's not ready to be exposed in that way.

He doesn’t spend too long in there just washes away any residual stickiness and ensures he’s fresh smelling for what he hopes is a morning with Gladio.

Prompto still doesn’t know what this means but he feels too full of warm air to really care.

With blind determination Prompto manages to get his hair almost completely dry with just his towel and brushes his teeth thoroughly and carefully before securing his wristband once more and exiting the bathroom with a towel around his hips.

Gladio’s awake, sat up in his boxers on the edge of the bed and Prompto’s stomach flutters happily at the sight, pulling a smile onto his face. He detours on the way to getting dressed to give Gladio a good morning kiss, leaning into it with a hand on Gladio’s bare chest while making sure his towel doesn’t drop.

Gladio looking at him naked in bed feels electric and thrilling but the idea of it now, in the bright light of day, makes him oddly nervous.

Gladio lets him go and Prompto patters over to his drawers, pulling free the first pair of boxers he puts his hands on. With his back to Gladio he drops the towel to quickly pull them up over his ass.

“What time do you have work?” Prompto asks, wondering if his late night dream of pancakes can come true.

“Not ‘til this afternoon, but I’ll go in after breakfast as I need to talk to my dad,” Gladio says and his voice makes whatever that is seem serious so when he adds, “Hey, come here a second,” Prompto abandons his hunt for jeans and slides easily onto Gladio’s lap.

Prompto tries to think with his brain and not his dick when Gladio hooks a forearm under his ass and moves them easily backwards, barely jostling Prompto at all before he’s settled them up against the headboard, Prompto still facing him in his lap.

“What’s up?” Prompto asks running his hands up Gladio’s biceps in what he hopes is a comforting way.

“I wanted to talk to you - shit, I’m no good at this.”

Prompto feels himself freeze. His chest turning into a solid steel cage for his heart to try and beat itself to death inside.

This could be good talk but it could be - and Prompto’s traitorous brain whispers that it’s much more likely to be - bad talk.

Gladio probably just wanted to give them a good send off, one last decent memory before -

Before what?

Gladio gets married off to some stupidly perfect girl and Prompto gets left all alone.

He always ends up alone.

“I’ve been having a really good time - an amazing time - with you,” Gladio says, not seeming to notice Prompto’s distress, “And I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want. About the future -”

This is it.

It’s actually happening.

It’s over.

Prompto goes hot all over, tears burning embarrassingly behind his eyes. Prompto pulls back his hands from Gladio’s body and if he could get his legs moving he’d jump right up off his lap.

“Shit, I should have done this last night, before we -”

Yeah, Prompto thinks, yeah he should have.

Prompto’s not even bothered about the sex, because that’s all they’ve ever been - despite what his stupid little heart would say - but he should have said something before he stayed. Before he let Prompto’s feelings take root so deep inside of him that Prompto doesn’t know how long it’ll take for them to stop growing let alone wither and die.

“Why?” Prompto say, surprised by how steady his voice is. Finally his legs seem to work and he stumbles a little shakily from Gladio’s lap, only making it so far as the wall where curls in on himself, shaking hands hidden beneath his arms, “Just one last but of fun, huh?”

Gladio frowns and his hand reaches towards Prompto but he pulling back before actually touching him, “What are you - Prom?”

“You didn’t have to stay last night you know, I don’t need your pity or whatever,” Prompto can’t think what else would have possessed him to do it, “I knew we couldn’t do this forever. Time for you to settle down, I guess. Your dad picked someone out for you yet?”

Prompto regrets the words as soon as he’s said them. No matter how hurt he is by this it hurts him more to see pain flash across Gladio’s features.

Prompto doesn’t even think he has the right to be hurt, not when this is what he signed up for all along.

“Baby -” Gladio says sounding lost.

“Sorry,” Prompto says quickly, “I shouldn’t have said that. I knew what I was getting in to - I just, you were so -” Prompto swallows shakily, admitting, “I got attached, that’s my fault, you were always honest with me.”

“No I wasn’t, not always,” Gladio argues.

Prompto shakes his head, “You were. I’m just dumb, I’m sorry. We can be friends, I might just need some - some time.”

“I don’t wanna be friends,” Gladio blurts.

“Oh.”

Oh.

That. That really hurts.

It was only yesterday that Gladio had said they were friends and now he’s saying this.

Had something happened between then and now that changed Gladio’s mind? Was this not what Gladio had planned to do when he’d come to see him yesterday morning?

The idea doesn’t make this hurt any less.

Prompto scrubs across his eyes, knowing a few tears have inevitably made their way free, “I’ll change my day at the tattoo parlour so it’s not awkward for you -”

It wouldn’t be fair for Prompto to affect such an important part of Gladio’s life. Eli will understand, will make allowances for him until he’s completed his work on Gladio.

Eli will probably be annoyed at this turn of events for completely different reasons but Prompto doesn’t have the head space available for that right now.

Gods.

What is he going to tell Noct?

“Freckles, no, that’s not what I mean,” Gladio tries to explain.

Prompto doesn’t want to hear it, what he needs is some space, some time for a good cry and a mope, to get it out of his system.

“It doesn’t matter - seriously. Please you can just go, it’s fine -”

“Prom, I’m trying to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

Prompto inhales too sharply and he hiccups around the air. A tear rolls hotly down his cheek.

“Really?” Prompto breathes.

Gladio laughs, a helpless noise, “Really badly but, yeah baby, I am.”

“But you said - you wanted -” Prompto tries to argue before the hope swells too big in his chest, he can’t handle having it smashed again.

“I thought that’s what I wanted but its not,” Gladio says earnestly, “I was an idiot, Prom. Please believe me, I mean this, not all those other things I said.”

Prompto struggles on another breath and Gladio’s face creases. He pats his thigh and begs, “Come back here, please.”

Prompto hesitates.

It could be a trick. It could be -

Gladio’s face is so open and honest, still hurt but hopeful.

Prompto almost over shoots when he launches himself back into Gladio’s hold, only his boyfriend’s strength and quick reflexes stopping a tumble to the ground.

As soon as he’s vertical again Prompto latches an arm around Gladio’s neck so he can’t move away from the thousand of kisses Prompto suddenly needs to press to his jaw.

Prompto’s giddy again, that same warm feeling from this morning expanding his chest.

Gladio laughs breathlessly and asks, “Is that a yes?”

Prompto’s mind screams yes but it also remembers the reason Gladio’s never done stuff like this before.

He's an Amicitia. Shield of Kings. Future father to Shield's of Kings.

“Is it okay?” Prompto makes himself ask, needing to really know before he can give himself fully over to the gorgeous man before him. Prompto sits up slightly so he can read Gladio’s face as he answers.

Gladio’s first response is to cup his face gently and wipe Prompto’s cheeks where wetness has gathered, good tears now, mixed in with the others.

“Well I’m certainly okay with it,” Gladio teases gently.

Prompto would be annoyed at him for dodging the question but there’s just a hint of confusion in his expression that tells Prompto he might not actually know what Prompto’s getting at.

Prompto laughs anyway too full of joy – Gladio wants him - to do much else, “I mean for you. With work and your dad and stuff.”

“I’m pretty sure it will be,” Gladio says nonchalantly, even shrugging, “But honestly I don’t care. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this - and by this I mean you obviously.”

Prompto ducks his head as his face warms, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m not worth fighting with your dad over, or messing up your career,” he points out.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Gladio murmurs tugging Prompto by the hips to get him close enough for a kiss. Prompto falls into it happily, fingers lightly trailing through the short hair on his jaw.

“You gonna answer me any time today?” Gladio asks when he’s done.

“Huh? Oh - yeah. Duh,” Prompto says. Was there ever any question? “Of course. I’m crazy about you.”

It feels nice to say it aloud. To be able to say it aloud without fear of it vanishing like smoke.

“Feeling is more than mutual, I assure you,” Gladio promises, smiling.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this,” Prompto says unable to keep the happiness inside him any longer. He shifts on Gladio’s lap, fidgets - bounces - overcome with glee.

“I can’t believe you thought I was trying to end things,” Gladio says, “After last night.”

“I thought you were just doing something nice for me,” Prompto admits, “To soften the blow because I’m Noct’s friend.”

Not his smartest line of thought, obviously.

Hindsight and all that.

“You need to give yourself more credit,” Gladio growls rolling them both quickly so he has Prompto pinned beneath on his back, “Nobody’s ever made me feel like this before.”

“Got under your skin, huh?”

Gladio doesn’t answer, just pushes Prompto’s head back with his jaw so Gladio can kiss into his throat. Lips followed almost immediately by teeth.

Prompto simply laces his fingers into the length of Gladio’s hair, laying back with barely an adjustment, just shifting his hips and his legs until he’s anchoring Gladio’s body against his own with all the strength in his thighs.

Teeth work his flesh so that Prompto can feel the light bruise blossoming and he tugs at Gladio’s hair to get him to look at him.

Breakfast, sure.

But also -

“You’re not in a rush?” Prompto asks.

“Why, you got something in mind?”

“Always,” Prompto grins

“I dunno,” Gladio says slowly, looking Prompto over, “You just had a shower, it would be a shame to make you all dirty again.”

Prompto pouts and Gladio leans in to kiss his bottom lip. Prompto can feel his smile.

“But then again,” Gladio murmurs.

In the blink of an eye Prompto finds himself on his belly.

He makes a surprised noise but it’s quickly swallowed by laughter.

Gladio leans over him from behind, kissing his way slowly down his spine and taking hold of and removing his underwear as soon as he encounters it. Prompto sees one of his pillows move in his periphery and then Gladio’s wedging it beneath his hips, trapped between Prompto’s swelling erection and the bed.

Oh, Prompto thinks when he feels Gladio’s breath against the top of his thigh, oh.

At Gladio’s gentle urging he spreads his thighs a little wider even though it leaves him exposed in a way that’s unfamiliar even though Gladio’s looked at this part of him many times now. He has pictures of this part of Prompto.

Gladio kisses him twice, once on each cheek and then he drags the rough edge of his jaw up his inner thigh.

Prompto was definitely red before but it’s probably gone now, all the blood in his body making a beeline for his dick.

“Shit,” Prompto gasps.

“This okay?” Gladio checks, licking the skin now.

“Y-yeah,” Prompto says, he makes himself look over his shoulder at Gladio - perched between his thighs - as he admits, “I’ve never - no ones ever done this for me before.”

Gladio carefully pulls him apart, exposing him more fully to the air of his bedroom.

“That,” Gladio says roughly, “Is a crime.”

Gladio licks across his hole in one firm swipe, warm and wet and wonderful.

“Oh, fuck,” Prompto mutters jerking his hips away from the new sensation and then back towards it when his brain fully registers how amazing it feels.

Gladio chuckles darkly and moves in again, tracing Prompto’s rim in delicate movements, alternating with firm swipes.

“Shit, shit,” Prompto stammers, thigh jerking slightly. Not because Prompto doesn’t like it but because he seems to have lost most of the control over the lower half of his body.

Gladio hold that thigh steady, anchors Prompto to Eos as he starts to open him up. Pressing in gently with his tongue whenever Prompto babbles something particularly nonsensical.

Prompto doesn’t know how long this goes on for, not really, but after an indeterminable amount of time Gladio works his fingers into him too. Normally he’ll complain about using nothing but spit but Gladio must trust himself in this situation to spread him open finger by finger, soothing any ache that comes with a press of his tongue.

It takes Prompto by surprise.

Somehow Prompto finds himself right on the edge, between the spread of Gladio’s fingers and the teasing of his tongue, the friction of his dick where he’s rutting it softly against his pillow and Prompto knows if Gladio’s fingers touch him just right one more time then he’s going to spill all over himself in an embarrassing, premature mess.

“No, no,” Prompto says, needing Gladio to stop even if he doesn’t want him too, “Fuck.”

Gladio’s mouth leaves him quickly but his hand pulls free more slowly, carefulness obvious with every millimetre that slips free.

“What’s wrong?” Gladio murmurs, moving back over him so the warmth of his body is a soothing presence against him. Gladio kisses the back of his neck, nuzzling the hairline that’s damp all over again.

“I was gonna come,” Prompto admits, struggling to draw breath. He tries to roll over but doesn’t, apparently, have control over his limbs. Gladio helps him with gentle hands.

Gladio’s mouth looks wet, his chin a little damp and Prompto suspects he’s supposed to find that gross but instead he wants to kiss him and realising he’s kind of allowed to do whatever he wants now he pulls Gladio’s face towards him.

Gladio resists, brushes their noses together in place of a kiss, “Remember where I just was.”

Prompto shakes his head, tugs at his jaw again, “Don’t care.”

They kiss and Prompto’s immediately disappointed by the fabric still covering Gladio’s thighs so he pulls his legs up high enough to get his toes into the waistband and start to tug it down. It works better than he thought it would and Gladio only has to pull way to take them all the way off when his dick is already freed, nestled up against Prompto’s.

That’s what Prompto wants, that and nothing else.

“So, uh -” Prompto stammers, shy in the face of actually asking for it.

“Hmm?” Gladio’s obviously a little distracted, kissing his throat again while he kicks his underwear off the end of the bed.

Prompto takes Gladio's dick in hand, hoping to pull focus and says quietly, “Want this in me.”

“You think I’m gonna say no?” Gladio asks, looking amused.

“Just this,” Prompto clarifies.

Prompto should have probably clarified more as it turns out because he has to watch Gladio think for a moment about what he means before he can answer. Before words however he gets a needy pulse in Gladio’s dick and a wet pulse against his palm.

“Prom,” Gladio starts hesitantly, “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“You’re clean right?” Prompto says quickly, “You have all those checks for work and stuff and I am too and if its just gonna be us from now on I really want to feel you -”

Gladio leans in to kiss him, effectively ending his rambling.

Prompto knows they have frequent physicals and that STD tests had been added into the mix a couple years back when an entire squad of Glaive had come back from a mission beyond the wall with a communicable disease. Noct likes to tell the story like a funny anecdote but for Ignis its a staunch warning for people to be safe.

Prompto thinks Nyx might have been involved somehow but he dare not ask.

But Gladio’s always been careful with him, so he can only believe he would have been careful with everyone else too. That thought now makes jealousy rage in his belly but he tries to ignore it. Gladio’s here now, that’s all that matters.

“It’s only been you,” Gladio tells him, dropping another soft kiss, “Since we started.”

If Gladio thinks that’s going to convince him to reach into his drawer for a condom he’s got another thing coming. Prompto’s so surprised by this news that all he can manage to do is rear his head up enough to kiss Gladio frantically. He’s not sure what emotion he’s trying to convey because he’s not sure what else is trying to make itself known within all the joy.

“Please, please, please,” Prompto begs, starting to work his hand over Gladio again in needier strokes.

Gladio sighs, eyes closing as Prompto continues to touch him. Prompto can pretty much hear the gears turning in his head.

“Give me the lube then,” Gladio says.

“I’m ready,” Prompto says at once, rather than crowing victoriously like he wants.

There’s a bit of a rigmarole then, Gladio worried about hurting him, Prompto eager to be one with it.

But eventually Gladio deems him fit to continue, slicked with lube and easily swallowing three of Gladio’s fingers.

And then.

Then.

Gladio’s pressing inside him, the blunt tip of his cock directly against his skin and it feels like everything Prompto wanted.

And infinitely more.

-

Gladio orders a full breakfast, eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns - the works. It’s exactly the kind of thing Prompto would eat and immediately feel settle around his stomach, a long forgotten whisper about his metabolism being slow echoing in his brain.

But he manages to push that feeling aside and order a plate of strawberry pancakes with chocolate sauce.

They're at a cutesy little diner, family owned by the looks of it, part way between Prompto's apartment and his work.

“Is the chocolate sauce on the pancakes or on the side,” Prompto asks while the waitress is still scribbling. Her hair is dyed white blond, pulled up in a ponytail to expose her undercut. There’s a tattoo behind her ear, a series of what look like runes.

She smiles down at him, “Both.”

“Can I just have it on the side, please?” Prompto asks.

He hates - hates - when pancakes get all soggy and gooey from syrup. Noct always drenches his in more syrup than Prompto thinks is probably safe and then miraculously feels sleepy after, like he hasn’t just eaten three weeks worth of sugar.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” the waitress says, scribbling something else on her order pad, “Won’t be long, you guys need more coffee?”

She’d poured them cups when she’d first dropped off the menus and Prompto’s barely touched his despite doctoring it heavily with milk and sweetener packets.

“I’m good,” Gladio says and Prompto shakes his head, smiling at her.

Prompto’s hand is resting on the table from where he’d been flicking through the menu and Gladio takes it, interlacing their fingers. For a moment part of him is scared that people might turn to look, judge them, but then he remembers he’s in Lucis, where its been a long time since it was a crime to be with whoever you wanted.

“You like chocolate?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods, “The sweet stuff. Bitter is - bleurgh. No fun for me.”

Gladio smiles glancing at Prompto’s coffee cup, “Got it.”

“Why you asking?” Prompto asks, sensing an ulterior motive.

“Just taking notes,” Gladio says, “When I inevitably need to apologise for something I know a box of chocolates will go down well.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“I’m new at this, Freckles,” Gladio admits, squeezing his fingers, “If I’m not doing something right - or you need something from me -”

Gladio breaks off, looking unsure.

Prompto thinks of all the soft touches and kind words, attentiveness clear even before yesterday when he'd been trying to make a statement.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Prompto repeats. Gladio smiles.

“So, um -” Prompto starts, needing to know but not sure he wants to, “Your meeting with your Dad today. Is that about - about me?”

“Us,” Gladio corrects quickly, “About us. Yeah. I need to tell him.”

Prompto’s hand might be shaking if Gladio didn’t have such a secure hold on it.

“I really don’t want you to have to fight with him,” Prompto murmurs, “Or it to affect your job.”

“Don’t worry about my job. There’s literally no rule that says I can’t date whoever I want -”

“For now,” Prompto says. Not sure he will be able to give Gladio up after a short period of time with him like this after all.

“Don’t worry about that,” Gladio begs, “Please. We’ll figure it out.”

Prompto manages a weak smile. “And your dad?”

“Dad’s gonna be fine. He’s never judged me for anything before, I can’t imagine he’ll start now.”

And Gladio sounds so sure of himself, so certain that this - they - will be able to work out okay in the end that, at least for a little while, Prompto can’t imagine anything ever going wrong again.

Chapter Text

Prompto doesn’t check his phone until he’s waiting outside Sakana, huddled against the wall to stand back from the wind. Gladio had offered to wait with him but Prompto had shooed him off, not wanting him to be late to meet his dad and certain that his boss would be there in a few minutes to open up.

His boss is not there in a few minutes to open up because he’s late.

Prompto spares a moment to text Gladio another cheerful good luck, unable to stop himself from offering him an out if he needs one. Gladio might not think its necessary but Prompto’s not letting him throw his life away on his account.

[Prompto 11:01] good luck with your dad （*＾3＾）

[Prompto 11:03] and if things go bad, i want you to know, there won’t be any hard feelings if you have to walk away. i’ll understand <3

Gladio’s driving so Prompto doesn’t expect him to text back, which gives him the necessary time to check his other messages. Prompto's phone flashing to let him know he has a few from Noct that he never saw last night.

[Noct 18:31] have fun dude

[Noct 18:32] let me know how it goes

[Noct 20:01] are you out of the movie yet?

[Noct 20:02: have you spoken to gladio yet?

[Noct 20:30] prom?

[Noct 20:45] was the movie later than i thought?

[Noct 21:07] look. im not worried. but like. text me back

[Noct 21:10] prom? did something happen?

[Noct 21:27] ill come over there. dont think i wont

[Noct 21:36] okay I won’t come over because you’re probably having sex

[Noct 21:37] literally nothing else is a good reason to be ignoring me

[Noct 21:59] ugh. come on. you have to be done by now?

[Noct 22:00] prom

[Noct 22:01] prompto

[Noct 22:02] mr argentum

[Noct 22:03] sir chocoknight

[Noct 22:04] prrooooooommmmmm

[Noct 22:05] look here you little shit

[Noct 22:10] Prompto, I apologise for Noctis’ actions and have taken his phone away from him. I hope you had a lovely time, please enjoy the rest of your evening - Ignis (⌐▨_▨)

[Noct 08:17] seriously? i have to be up at the asscrack of dawn and i don’t even have a grovelly message from my best friend to wake up to?

[Noct 08:19] i know youre awake. get off gladios dick and talk to me

[Noct 08:20] prom

[Noct 08:21] prompto

[Noct 08:22] projvsdhoigh

[Noct 08:25] I apologise again, Prompto. Please message Noctis back when you have a moment, I believe he’s a little worried last night may not have gone as well as we all hoped - Ignis.

There’s something to be said for airplane mode and all that.

[Prompto 11:07] firstly 8 is not the ass crack of dawn

[Prompto 11:08] secondly, i was busy with my BOYFRIEND

[Prompto 11:09] sorry not sorry

[Prompto 11:10] though that is the last time you will be ignored in favour of him - for real i put my phone on silent for the movie and forgot to turn it off again, my bad.

[Prompto 11:11] noct? you mad? you in a meeting? i really am sorry, meet up later?

“Oh thank Gods,” Erin says, out of breath, startling Prompto up from his phone, “I was totally gonna get docked if I was late.”

“You’re almost never late,” Prompto murmurs, “You okay?”

“I’m doing an internship,” Erin explains, “And I’d like a real job with them when I graduate in the summer so I offered to do a couple hours this morning and then the copy machine got jammed and it was a whole thing.”

Prompto thinks Erin wants to be a writer when she graduates and remembers her mentioning a nerve-wracking interview a couple weeks back. He’s happy for her, pleased she’s going after what she wants even though, like Prompto, she’s having to heft and grind to get it.

She waves her hands around a little and Prompto notices a smudge of black ink across a couple of her finger. Erin follows his eyes and says forlornly, “I’ll have to wear gloves all shift.”

Her hair is the softest baby pink right now and Prompto's kind of living for it.

Prompto laughs, “If the shift ever starts.”

Erin flicks up the sleeve of her jacket to check her watch and sighs.

“He’s never this late,” she murmurs, “Definitely no call?”

Prompto shakes his head but swipes across to his call log just in case, “Nothing,” he says.

Erin steps into his personal space a little and leans against the wall.

“Huddle together for warmth?” she teases.

Prompto laughs and they wait.

-

Work is awful.

Again.

His second shift in a row that’s just a complete cluster fuck. Even if its for different reasons.

They’re not busy, not by a long shot, but the people that closed yesterday didn’t clean properly before they left and its a slog to get everything up to standard before the customers start to trickle in for lunch.

Their boss is in a killer mood, of course, not bothering to explain why he was late and heavily implying that they could do without their breaks or get docked the pay for the late start. Erin points out that neither thing is legal but the two of them wordlessly agree to forgo breaks just in case.

They do keep their phones under the counter, surreptitiously using them with their boss locked away in his office, and it’s the only reason Prompto gets to reply to Gladio’s messages straight away and not leaving him hanging until five. Which would have been quite the problem, as it turns out.

[Gladio 14:21] Iggy wants to cook us all dinner, shall I pick you up after your shift and drive you to Noct’s?

[Gladio 14:22] I thought we could go back to mine after, for a change of scenery.

Prompto frowns down at his phone, almost squirming with discomfort of not knowing.

What about his Dad?

Erin laughs at him from across the shop, much less stealthily texting with one hand, coffee cup dangling from the other. It’s not altogether that risky, with the mood he’s in they’ll hear their boss coming long before they see him.

Prompto takes a deep breath.

[Prompto 14:22] you cant just text me like that without telling me how it went with your dad

[Gladio 14:23] I had no idea you were worried about that.

[Prompto 14:24] you’re teasing me and its mean

[Prompto 14:24] dont make me tell noct you’re a bad boyfriend

[Gladio 14:25] It went great, okay, everything is perfect.

It’s certainly nice to read but of course Prompto can’t just accept that at face value, he knows Gladio well enough to know he wouldn’t drop bad news over text but then he probably wouldn’t insinuate it was perfect either.

[Prompto 14:26] but you’d probably tell me that even if you fought and got disowned

[Gladio 14:27] The only thing he’s mad about is that I told him he has to wait to meet you.

[Gladio 14:27] Honestly this is the happiest for me I’ve seen him in a long time.

[Prompto 14:28] oh gods i’m gonna have to meet your dad

[Gladio 14:29] He’s a teddy bear and he likes you already.

[Gladio 14:30] And not yet anyway, I told him we wanted some time to just exist first.

[Prompto 14:31] phew

[Gladio 14:32] Noct’s? Tonight? You finish at 5?

[Prompto 14:33] i should run home to grab an overnight bag, shall i just meet you there?

[Gladio 14:34] I’ve got stuff you can use. Going home first means you’re just looping back on yourself.

[Prompto 14:35] you better have the comfiest shirt in the world for me to sleep in

A customer comes in then and Prompto tucks his phone into his back pocket, straightening up to take their order.

-

Prompto escapes through the doors of Sakana at 5:19, anxious about the idea of Gladio having waited for him so long he would have gotten bored.

Instead, he’s surprised to see Gladio and Ignis both, sat in the front of the car chatting away. Ignis has collected him before, of course, and Gladio had dropped him off that morning but there’s something weird about seeing them both here at the same time.

It’s only when he’s climbing in behind Ignis that he realises it’s because he’s never seen Iggy in anything but the driver’s seat before.

“Hey baby,” Gladio says when Prompto’s pulled the door shut. And Prompto can’t not blush or lean in between the seat to kiss his cheek. He hopes Ignis doesn’t mind and judging from the little smile on his face when Prompto settles back down he doesn’t.

“Hey,” Prompto says, “Do I need to go back in for food?”

Ignis laughs softly, “Not at all. We just went and picked up all we need for dinner.”

“Oh good,” Prompto says, relieved, “I’m done with sushi.”

“Bad day?” Gladio asks, peering at him in the rear view mirror before putting the car into gear and pulling out into traffic.

“Was fine,” Prompto says quickly, too fast for either of them to take the words at face value.

“Boss a dick again?” Gladio asks.

Prompto sighs, “Yeah.” He doesn’t much feel like elaborating and neither of them press him for more while they head off. Nothing really happened at work, he didn’t get caught with his phone or yelled at or anything but there’s a certain air to the place when you know your boss is just one small minor imagined infraction from screaming his head off.

“How do meat pies sound?” Ignis says, “Cap off your day well?”

Prompto grins, “Sandwich a shitty day between two excellent meals,” Prompto says.

It’s hard to believe that it was only that morning Gladio had asked him to be his boyfriend and taken him out for pancakes. After they were done in bed, of course.

Prompto can't forget that.

Literally.

He can still kind of feel it.

“You eat anything at work?” Gladio asks.

“Huh? No, I wasn’t even there that long,” Prompto tells him.

Ignis and Gladio share a look, it’s brief because Gladio needs to focus on the road but when he’s facing forwards again he frowns. Gladio makes an non-committal noise and for a second Prompto thinks he might be angry until he realises he’s concerned.

“I’m not even hungry,” Prompto tells him honestly.

Gladio smiles at him in the rear view again and once they’re on the main road moving steadily he reaches back between the front seats to squeeze Prompto’s knee.

It takes a while to get back to Noct’s in the rush hour traffic but Prompto tells Ignis, when he asks, that he had indeed text Noct back today and when Iggy had given Noct his phone back this afternoon Prompto had received a string of senseless and lewd emojis back.

“Charming,” Ignis says trying not to laugh, handing Prompto’s phone back to him.

They pull off the main road and the streets get quieter, Noctis lives in a fancy neighbourhood after all.

Prompto doesn’t actually know where Gladio lives he realises, wondering if it’ll be somewhere like Noct’s and if if it is will Prompto feel the same sense of discomfort he had the first couple times at Noct’s - a feeling that had only eased when he’d walked in to empty pizza boxes in the living room and towels on the bathroom floor.

Gladio probably doesn’t leave wet towels on the bathroom floor.

Probably.

Prompto’s yanked out from his building anxiety by the engine cutting off, Gladio having reversed perfectly into a space next to a sleek black car that’s not Iggy’s but in the space he always uses.

“Where’s your car?” Prompto blurts.

“Nyx brought Noct home, he or I will drive us all to the Citadel tomorrow and trade this car for my own,” Ignis explains easily.

“Hero joining us for dinner?” Gladio asks popping his door open.

Ignis shakes his head, “He’s gone for dinner with Crowe and Libertus. He’s taken his motorcycle.”

The last part he adds solely for Prompto’s benefit and Prompto wouldn’t even need to know Ignis as well as he does now to feel Ignis disdain for Nyx’s transportation.

Prompto kind of gets it, he thinks motorbikes are cool but he absolutely doesn’t ever want to be on one.

Outside the car Prompto finally gets the contact he realises he’s been craving, leaning into Gladio’s side when he slips his arm around Prompto’s shoulders. Prompto sighs and Gladio chuckles, pressing a warm kiss to his head.

“Hi Freckles,” Gladio says.

Prompto hums and lets more of his weight rest against his boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Prompto’s never going to get tired of that.

“Things with your Dad were really okay?”

Gladio ruffles his hair and says, “Of course.”

“Shall I meet you upstairs?” Ignis asks, holding open the door to the stairs and elevator.

Gladio pulls back enough to peer down at his face, clearly letting him decide, and Prompto grins shaking his head. He slips out from Gladio’s arm and takes his hand instead.

“Our Prince awaits!” Prompto teases.

-

Ignis is just ladling filling - deliciously mouth watering smelling filling - into individual pie crusts when Noct tosses his phone to the side with a sigh. Prompto was totally kicking his ass but Noct will never admit it and Prompto’s not one to point it out in the moment. Might remind him about it at a later date though.

Noct stretches and when his shoulders inch back part of his spine cracks in a way that seems alarming and satisfying.

Gladio looks up from where he’d settled in the arm chair just a few minutes ago, book in hand, and frowns. He catches Prompto’s eye and then digs out his phone, keying something into it before settling back to his book. Noct’s probably got an appointment with his physio tomorrow.

“I’m gonna grab my formal wear,” Noct says, “Dinners not for a while?”

Ignis sighs, “If you wait until after I can help you.”

Which roughly translates to I don’t trust you to do this by yourself in Ignis talk.

“Prompto can help me,” Noct says standing up and heading into his room before anyone can argue.

Gladio snorts, “Good luck, baby.”

Prompto stands and shoots Ignis a slightly frantic look, “Text me a list, Iggy?”

Ignis sighs again, “There’s already one on his phone. Don’t let him fold the jackets and shirts please, it’ll take me forever to fix the damage.”

Prompto laughs and shoots Ignis a salute which makes him laugh too, Prompto’s proud of himself.

“Shut the door,” Noct almost hisses when Prompto steps through. On reflex Prompto follows the instruction, turning to look at Noct with confusion.

Noct’s sat on his bed with a broad shit eating grin on his face, he pats the space next to him and Prompto approaches feeling a little like a lamb heading for slaughter.

“Soooooooo,” Noct drawls, “Come on.”

Prompto laughs nervously, “What?”

“Tell me about last night,” Noct enthuses.

Prompto raises an eyebrow and Noct scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Anything that happened not in your bed.”

“Uh, well we definitely had the chat you wanna hear about on my bed, so…”

Noctis hits playfully at his arm and Prompto manages to deflect the second blow, laughing.

“I’ll talk,” Prompto offers, “If you pack.”

Noct groans and flops back onto the bed. “You’re mean,” he says.

“I’m crafty,” Prompto corrects.

Noct groans again and heaves himself up.

“Give me the list,” Prompto says holding out a grabby hand.

“It’s in my messages from Iggy,” Noct says, pulling open the door to his huge walk in closet, “Phone code is 1111.”

Prompto’s got Noct’s phone in hand before that information truly registers in Prompto’s brain.

“Noct,” Prompto all but whispers, “No.”

Noct sighs, reappearing from his wardrobe with a suit in each hand, “Not you too.”

“I’m sure there’s, like, super sensitive information on here,” Prompto says, keying in the code and thumbing open the messaging app. Ignis has messaged Noct a bit since the list so it takes him a moment to scroll up and find it, not really paying attention to anything in the other messages. Just in case.

“I never remember more complicated numbers,” Noct complains, “I already had to change the PIN for my debit card.”

“It wasn’t,” Prompto gasps.

“It was,” Noct mumbles, “And Iggy says they can’t be the same. So.”

Prompto blinks.

Noct’s going to run the country one day.

Prompto’s really glad Ignis exists. And not just because of those pies in the kitchen.

“You could at least, like, use someone's birthday - not yours,” Prompto says. Then, his face pulls up into a teasing grin and he adds, “Like Luna’s maybe.”

“Shut up,” Noct says, cheeks turning a little pink, “Remind me what I need.”

Noct wiggles the suits and Prompto glances at the start of the list, “Four true black suits - at least two with waistcoats -” Noct groans “- and two or more additional suits in charcoal or darker. Wow. The choice. The variety.”

Noct snorts and tosses the two suits onto the bed before he disappears back into the closet. Prompto hops up to rescue them, hanging them off the hook that Noctis sometimes uses to hang his bathrobe. Not today though, today Noct’s bathrobe is just crumpled on the floor in a heap.

“So,” Noct calls, “How was it? I mean, obviously you guys are all together now but -”

Noct reappears with two grey suits in hand and Prompto points at the lighter of the two, which has a pleasant but very subtle pattern waved into the fabric. It would probably be impossible to capture on camera.

Prompto really wants to try.

“It was really great - Gladio was so sweet. Oh - Em - Gee, Noct - Solarium -”

“Was it good?” Noct asks, poking his head out the closet again, empty handed this time, “It was totally my idea, by the way, in case Gladio tries to say otherwise.”

Prompto laughs, “He told me, thank you.”

Noct grins, looking pleased.

“It was amazing to see it in a theatre,” Prompto muses.

Noct’s expression dims, “You never saw it on a big screen in Gralea?” Prompto shakes his head. “But you had, like - been to the movies right?”

Prompto rolls his eyes, “Duh.” Twice. But saying that probably wouldn’t help him out any right now.

“Gladio said you had breakfast together,” Noct says, voice dimming as he steps back inside. There’s a rustle and a grunt and a pair of shiny black shoes flies out of it one by one, landing on the bed with a bounce.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “I, uh - mentioned it last night and he took me this morning.”

“Because he stayed,” Noct says, voice smug, “When did he ask you? Or did he not actually ask?”

“This morning,” Prompto says, then laughs, “There was a bit of a misunderstanding - I thought he was trying to end things.”

He can laugh about it now. This morning however it’d been like his world was imploding. He wants to go crawl into Gladio’s lap for a minute and remind himself that its okay now. Better than okay. Perfect.

There must have been something strange in Prompto’s voice though because Noct calls, “You okay?”

“Yeah - I’m really good. Great.”

Noct comes back out then, another suit in each hand. Both of these have waistcoats tucked under the jackets on the hangers.

“He makes you happy?” Noct asks seriously.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, gently, “Really happy.”

Noct grins, tossing both the new finds onto the bed and stepping forward to give Prompto a brief hug.

“Good,” he says stepping back, “I’ll kick his ass if that ever changes.”

And then he disappears back into his closet again.

Prompto laughs to himself as he hangs up the new finds, wedging them carefully onto the hook.

“You’ve changed your tune,” Prompto calls.

“I though it was strange before. But then I talked to you and I talked to Gladio - he’s fucking crazy about you dude - and you guys are actually perfect for each other. I just want you all to be happy,” Noct says back.

“I am,” Prompto tells him again, “I think this might all be a dream and I’m gonna wake up in my shitty shared house in Gralea any second but - still, happy.”

Prompto can just make out Noct’s low chuckle before -

“Ah ha!” Noct calls from the back of his closet, “Variety!”

Prompto perks with interest. Honestly, he likes black, more than half his own wardrobe is black and he wouldn’t want it any other way. But it seems Noct’s ‘royal’ closet is just an endless stream of it in pretty much the same fabric - Noct has very specific taste. Even the grey is too dark to really be considered grey to Prompto so he’s not exactly expecting much from whatever Noct’s found but it turns out to be enough to make Pormpto wonder if it technically falls within Iggy’s guidelines.

“Ooo pinstripes,” Prompto enthuses, “I like it.”

Noct hands him the hanger but onto the bed he tosses another garment, “Matching waistcoat too.”

“Score!” Prompto says, casually retrieving it and trying to hook it over the overflowing hook.

“We should go dump some of that,” Noct muses and together they carry half each back into the living room. Prompto carefully lays his down in the bottom of the case, wondering the best way to actually pack suit jackets - Prompto doesn’t own one he has no idea - but his carefulness is kind of for nothing when Noct just unceremoniously throws his on top.

Prompto scrambles to fix it and Noct snorts, “It’ll all get pressed at the Citadel anyway.”

“Yes,” Ignis says from the kitchen where he’s testing the crust on one of the pies - Prompto’s stomach gurgles eagerly - “But I’d much appreciate less of a work load thank you.”

Noct frowns, “I didn’t think you did it.”

Ignis slides the pie back into the oven and then pushes his glasses up with the back of his hand, “You want other people rummaging around in your things?”

Noct shakes his head but leans down to arrange the clothes more carefully. Prompto helps him separate the pants from the hangers and fold them into the suitcase and they gently stack the jackets in a pile, careful not to fold any of the arms in.

As he folds a waistcoat in half along it’s back he glances up at Ignis, suddenly worried but Ignis just gives him a half smile and a nod so Prompto just wedges it alongside the pinstripe pants and hopes it doesn’t crinkle too badly.

“I’m just serving up,” Ignis calls and Gladio and Noct both head off to the dining table where cutlery has been laid out for them all. Prompto walks to the kitchen to ask -

“Need any help?”

Ignis says, “No, thank you.”

Prompto pouts at him and Ignis laughs.

“Very well,” Ignis tells him, spooning some vegetables onto two plates, more on one than the other, “Take these to Gladio and Noct, please.”

“Extra carrots for Noct, right?” Prompto asks tone mockingly serious and loud so the others can here.

“I hate you,” Noct calls.

Laughing Prompto delivers the plates, giving Noct the one he might actually eat and asks, “Drinks?”

“You know you’re not at work, right?” Gladio asks gripping his wrist to stop him escaping immediately.

Prompto shrugs, “You want something to drink?”

Gladio shakes his head fondly, “I’ll have some water if you’re getting yourself something.”

Prompto skips back to the kitchen, getting himself and Gladio glasses of water and grabbing cans of soda and Ebony for Noct and Iggy respectively. Ignis has gotten the other two plates to the table by the time Prompto’s setting everyone’s drinks in front of them but he feels better knowing he didn’t just leave Ignis to do everything himself.

Prompto takes his seat and waits for everyone else to cut into their pies before following suit.

Top three dinners ever. For real.

-

Gladio makes the decision to drive them home when Prompto starts drowsing against him on the couch. He’d gone through all of Ignis’ list on Noct’s phone with the prince, trying to keep Noct on track when it inevitably got boring and tedious. Ignis had carefully packed everything away safely, lamenting a lack of garment bags for the suits but also acknowledging how awkward it would have been to travel the nine or so they would have needed for everything.

Apparently Noct was supposed to start moving stuff over to the Citadel a couple weeks back and had just not for whatever Noct-logic reason.

“You want me to carry you down?” Gladio teases as Prompto sits up rubbing his eye.

“No,” Prompto mutters, “Dunno why I’m so tired.”

Gladio’s hand strokes softly over the back of his head, “Long day,” he says.

Prompto yawns and slumps slightly against Gladio.

Noct laughs, “Dude.”

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles.

“Come on,” Gladio says, “Before I have to carry you down.”

Prompto hops to his feet before Gladio can make a grab for him and gently slaps at his face to wake himself up a little.

Noct snorts and raises a fist into the air from where he’s sprawled on his end of the couch, “Laters.”

Prompto bumps his fist against Noct's and then Ignis walks out with them, riding down in the elevator until his floor where he bids them goodnight.

Tucked in behind the car from the Citadel is motorbike.

“Do they live together?” Prompto asks Gladio, smiling and blushing when Gladio opens the passenger door for him.

“Huh?”

“Iggy and Nyx, do they live together?”

Gladio climbs into the car, grinning.

“They pretend they don’t,” Gladio says, “But I’m pretty sure Libertus and Crowe are renting his room to someone else now.”

Prompto giggles, “That seems like, Iggy.”

Gladio carefully pulls out of the parking garage, flicking the radio on but turning it down low so it barely registers as background music.

“Is it far?” Prompto asks.

Gladio shakes his head, “More towards suburbs.”

“Near your family’s house?”

Gladio tilts his head, “It’s a pretty even split between Noct’s, the Citadel and home. Not too far from you if the traffic is good.”

“Handy,” Prompto says and then he yawns again, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Gladio says, “We’ll only be a few minutes but if you wanna drop off -”

“No, no. I’m good.”

It really doesn’t take long at all and soon enough they’re pulling into another underground parking area in building that’s not quite as tall and imposing as Noct and Iggy’s.

“Wow,” Prompto says as the gate pulls in automatically behind them, “Fancy.”

“It’s more than I need,” Gladio says oddly fast.

“Is it as big as Noct’s?” Prompto asks, just so he’s prepared.

“No way, two bedrooms but one of them just sits empty because I don’t need an office or anything. Don’t let the fancy kitchen fool you either, Ignis put all that stuff in there and I’ve barely used it.”

Prompto’s pleased he’s not the only one that’s less than confident in the kitchen and he laughs even if it is cut off by yet another yawn. Honestly he has no excuse for being this tired. Gladio might say he’s had a long day but Prompto’s certainly had longer days than this. Shittier days, by far.

“Lets get you inside, Baby,” Gladio says giving his knee a quick squeeze.

Prompto goes hot all at once and waits patiently for Gladio to collect the couple bags off the back seat and come round to open his door for him, willing the colour off his face.

Prompto steps out as soon as there’s space, blush only deepening when Gladio cups his face with his free hand, brushing his thumb along Prompto’s cheek.

“What is it?” Gladio asks gently.

“N-nothing,” Prompto stutters, averting his gaze.

“Prom,” Gladio says with a laugh and the shortened version of his name only makes things worse.

“It’s just - I’m not used to you - or anyone - calling me, like, pet names and stuff,” Prompto explains.

“I call you Baby all the time,” Gladio points out.

Which -

True.

But not like this.

Prompto manages to roll his eyes, “Its different when we’re in bed.”

“Uh huh,” Gladio deadpans, moving his hand from his face to Prompto’s own, gently pulling him towards and through a large door, “Lets get upstairs, Sweet Cheeks.”

Prompto assumed it would lead to a stairwell but instead he’s taken through to a plain but modern looking foyer where the force of his laugh catches the attention of the security guard. Desperately uncomfortable under the man’s attention Prompto presses himself against Gladio’s side to make it clear that he was invited here and not just some random kid off the street.

Prompto’s straightens up again when they cross the threshold of the elevator.

“Please tell me you don’t have the penthouse,” Prompto whispers - half joking.

Gladio shakes his head and presses a button for the eighteenth floor - Prompto notices there’s half a dozen floors above it. Prompto turns to bury a yawn in Gladio’s chest, sinking against him when Gladio wraps an arm around his shoulders supportively.

“Have you got work in the morning?” Gladio asks.

Prompto blinks up at him, “Nah, I might go work on some pictures for my portfolio.” Then remembering the laundry list of personal projects he wants to do he adds, “Though, I’ve been neglecting my sketchbook so I might do that instead. You?”

“Not gotta head in early for anything,” Gladio says, “We’re winding down a bit for Solstice, so I can drop you home before I go in if you want.”

“That’d be nice,” Prompto says softly, pleased he doesn’t have to try and find the nearest bus stop. Not that he wouldn’t. He would. And it’d be worth it.

The noise the elevator makes his jarring and Prompto’s still a little startled by it when Gladio takes his hand to lead him to one of the three doors on the floor.

It’s a nice apartment, one that could probably hold all of Prompto’s four times over. Open plan with a nice kitchen dividing off a third of the main room with almost every wall lined with bookcases and decorated in dark wood and warm brown leather. Gladio has actual wood flooring that Prompto didn’t think existed anywhere but Noct’s apartment but topped off with a cosy looking rustic patterned rug.

It’s a really nice apartment.

Prompto feels a little small.

“Kitchen is here,” Gladio tells him and Prompto chooses not to say duh when he spots the slightly nervous set of Gladio’s jaw, “Bedroom is that door on the right, main bathroom in the middle, other door is empty.”

Prompto nods, assuming from the words main bathroom that there’s a second one somewhere.

Wild.

Prompto kicks out of his shoes and wanders over to the bookcases nearest the TV while Gladio rummages through his bags. Easily he finds what seems to be the section of spectacularly trashy romance novels but nothing that he’s familiar with. Prompto’s only just finished reading the books Gladio had given him recently but that doesn’t mean he’s not absolutely ready for the next and, presumably, final instalment.

Prompto glances over at Gladio and notices his hand is outstretched, stood by the bedroom door. Prompto abandons his search and rushes over, slipping his hand into Gladio’s.

“I need the next book,” Prompto confesses, “I was gonna steal it.”

“Its not even out yet,” Gladio says, “You gotta wait for the new year like the rest of us.”

“Ah man. How could you do this to me?” Prompto whines.

“I’m not writing them,” Gladio defends with a deep chuckle.

“But you made me read them,” Prompto argues.

“I’m fairly certain you fished it out from under a coffee table of your own accord,” Gladio says.

“Unimportant detail,” Prompto mumbles

Gladio’s bed is huge because of course it is. Slatted wooden headboard and a dark red comforter that Prompto wants to just dive into immediately.

“Wow,” he says, realising he can.

Prompto takes a few steps forward and just drops onto his belly across Gladio’s bed.

“So this is what a mattress feels like when eleven other people haven’t used it first,” Prompto marvels, voice all garbled from where his face is pressed into plush bedding.

Gladio laughs and then teases, “I doubt the university keeps mattresses for eleven years. But please tell me you have a decent mattress topper.”

Prompto wriggles over onto his back and replies, “I’ve always had one but then Iggy found out which one and he turned up at my apartment one day with a new one and swapped it out.”

“That sounds like Iggy,” Gladio echoes.

Prompto grins and tugs Gladio in when he leans over to kiss him. Prompto’s exhausted but he could be easily persuaded into something a little slow, let Gladio fuck his mouth and then take him apart afterwards with his hands.

Gladio kisses him a little chastely, pulling back so their bodies aren’t pressed together.

“You want a shower or anything?” Gladio offers, holding out a bottle, “I bought some shit that I thought smells a bit like you.”

Prompto glances at it and sees a label abundant in pictures of citrus fruits. It makes him laugh and he sits up to take it in hand.

“This is fancier than the stuff I buy,” Prompto admits, thumbing the cap open to smell it. It smells like his normal stuff but better. Prompto’s oddly flattered that Gladio seems to know him so well.

“But I’ll take you up on that in the morning if that’s okay?” Prompto checks, too tired to face standing under hot water for ten minutes. He’s likely to fall asleep standing up.

“Of course,” Gladio says easily and then he’s slipping something else into Prompto’s hand, “Though you’ll want this now.”

This turns out to be a bright yellow toothbrush. Cartoon chocobos dancing about the handle. Prompto never even had fun toothbrushes as a kid, just plain white ones that had their names written on them in permanent marker.

Gladio laughs at whatever his face is doing then points at the door on the other side of the room. There’s a set of double door next to it but they’re shorter so Prompto supposes Gladio has a walk in closet too. It would surprise Prompto to learn Gladio has enough clothes to fill a walk in closet but stranger things have happened.

“Bathroom is there, go do whatever you want and I’ll get something for you to sleep in. I just need to put the groceries away and then I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll help,” Prompto offers quickly, trying to climb off the bed but Gladio distracts him with a firm kiss and insists -

“Just get comfy, I won’t be long.”

Prompto doesn’t have the wherewithal to argue with so he lets Gladio walk back out of the room and then scrambles off to the bathroom.

Also kind of fancy, with a huge shower, but then Gladio’s huge so he guesses that’s fair. Prompto slips the shower wash into the little basket alongside Gladio’s shampoo and then quickly finds toothpaste by the sink and thoroughly brushes his teeth. His contacts pop out straight into the trash, thankful all over again that he’s not going to have to make his own way home in the morning.

He blinks at his blurry face in the mirror and spares a moment to splash it with some cool water.

Back in the bedroom a t-shirt has been put on the end of the bed so Prompto strips out of his clothes and leaves them in a neat pile beside Gladio’s half empty laundry basket and pulls the large garment over him.

It’s soft and the logo is faded and it smells good, absolutely everything Prompto had been hoping for when he requested something from Gladio as a joke earlier.

Prompto’s not sure which side of the bed Gladio sleeps but notices a phone charger trailing on one side and makes an assumption so he pulls down the covers and climbs in on the opposite side. Prompto unsnaps the band from his unmarked wrist and stashes it along with the two bracelets he wears onto the bedside table.

But is that weird? Will Gladio notice that he took some off but not all of them?

He’s never questioned it before, never reached for them to try and take them off, never questioned why Prompto’s always wearing them.

It feels like a lie again, a burning twinge of shame deep in his gut that Gladio doesn’t know. That he should know.

Prompto shifts slightly, rolling more onto his stomach, but not pulling the covers up in the hope he’ll still be awake when Gladio climbs into bed.

It doesn’t matter that Gladio doesn’t know, Prompto thinks, that’s what Noct would say. If he were there he’s tell Prompto that it’s no ones business but his own. That it doesn’t matter who knows or not because it has no bearing on who Prompto is as a person.

It’s a hard thing to believe, when he’s been told the opposite his entire life.

But he’s trying.

Gladio comes into the room quietly, offering Prompto a smile that quells some of the twisting thoughts in his head and slips into the bathroom. Prompto snuggles down into the pillow and waits as patiently as he can for the five or so minutes it takes Gladio to come back out. He sheds most of his clothes into the laundry basket and then shuts off the main light in favour of his bedside lamp.

Gladio slips into the bed behind him, pulling up the covers and - already dozing - Prompto blearily tries to turn himself over so he can press into Gladio’s chest. Gladio stops him by lining up against Prompto’s back all warm skin and strong arms, dropping a kiss to Prompto's neck fondly.

“Comfy enough?” Gladio rumbles.

Prompto tries to say yes and thank you but his mouth feels heavy and uncooperative. All he can really manage is a little wiggle that sets him more securely into the cradle of Gladio’s body. Prompto sighs when Gladio kisses the back of his neck again.

“G’night baby.”

Prompto feels across the arm wrapped over his belly until he finds fingers that he can squeeze.

- - -

Prompto wakes up alone and a little disorientated.

It would probably be easier if he could see a hundred percent but as he slowly crawls back to full consciousness he remembers why that can’t be for the time being.

Prompto stretches across the bed, star-fishing all his limbs every which way and sure, he’d prefer it if Gladio were still here, but this is pretty nice too.

That being said -

Prompto forces himself away from the comfiest bed he’s ever slept in - sorry Noct’s spare room - and patters out of Gladio’s bedroom in search of him on sleep clumsy legs.

He finds Gladio - or the Gladio shaped mass anyway - in his kitchen area accompanied by the faint hum of an oven and stirring something? Maybe?

Prompto makes his way across the living area, coming up short when his leg collides painfully with something in his path.

“Careful, Freckles,” Gladio chides softly as Prompto’s stares down at the huge couch he somehow didn’t notice.

Prompto rubs at his eye hoping despite all previous evidence to the contrary that it will help him focus better on his surroundings.

“I don’t have my glasses with me,” Prompto admits.

Gladio’s voice betrays his surprise and excitement even if Prompto can’t quite make out his expression properly. Prompto takes a step back from the couch and then walks around it with a wide berth to prevent further accidents.

“I didn’t know you needed them. Man I bet that’s cute.”

It’s inevitable really, if he and Gladio are going to start spending nights together that he’ll see Prompto wearing them sooner or later. Prompto wishes he could avoid it though. Not everyone pulls off frames as well as Ignis does.

Now within arms reach Prompto swings out to playfully swat at Gladio’s bare chest in reprimand for being called cute but he completely misses and just finds himself tugged right into the circle of Gladio’s arms.

Zero complaints.

Gladio snorts into his hair and says, “I seriously pegged you for a morning person.”

“I am,” Prompto says and he is truly a morning person. Hard wired to be up and about early, struggling with late nights when he doesn’t have something to hyper focus on.

“I just do like eighty-six percent of my waking up either in the shower or on my run.”

Gladio hums and rubs his big hands up Prompto’s spine.

“You want a shower before I attempt to feed you?” he asks.

Prompto perks, both at the thought of food and the idea that suddenly gives him. He winds his arms up around Gladio’s broad shoulders and goes up on tiptoes, squinting to focus on his face.

“Is yours big enough for two?” Prompto asks. Because Prompto’s shower is absolutely not in any way appropriate for two people – not even two Prompto sized people. Prompto’s surprised Gladio even really fit in it yesterday.

Gladio hauls him off his feet so fast he’s hard pushed to suppress his squeak. Prompto clings on tighter with his arms and secures his legs around Gladio’s waist.

Prompto’s half hard already. It’s insane. No one should be this hot.

“You’re terrible,” Gladio moans barely letting Prompto be jostled as he moves them from the room, “Here I am trying to show you its not all about sex -”

“Wow,” Prompto deadpans, “Way to make an assumption. It’s like you think I’m easy or something.”

Gladio gets them through the bathroom door and immediately reaches into the shower to turn the water on.

Prompto expects Gladio to tease back, maybe kiss him while they wait for the shower to heat up, definitely strip him of the t-shirt and boxer briefs he slept in. Instead Gladio just takes a big step forward, depositing them both under the icy spray.

This time Prompto does squeal, a truly shrill sound and subconsciously leans closer into Gladio’s body for warmth, dipping his head down to kiss him even as he giggles from the shock.

As the water warms against his back Gladio lowers Prompto to his feet and helps him pull of his sodden t-shirt. Gladio pushes down his sweats and Prompto hurriedly shucks his boxers. Gladio’s eyes burn him in a good way as he stares down at Prompto, water running over his shoulders and down his body. Prompto lets himself drown in the sensation for a moment, staring up into Gladio’s intense face.

Then Gladio’s hand is on his wrist, fingers searching for the clasp on his wristband and Prompto freezes, dead cold.

Terrified.

Prompto snatches it back roughly, cradling it protectively against his chest.

Prompto could let him take it off. He could let Gladio see his tattoo and come clean, know now, once and for all what that means for them…

But he can’t.

He can’t.

It might only be a two percent chance Gladio will send him on his way when he finds out but Prompto’s not ready to take that chance. He’s not had enough of Gladio yet.

“It’s getting wet,” Gladio points out, confused.

“I want to - need to keep it on,” Prompto says, hating the way his wobbles.

It’s only after he says it that he realises this might be even be it, this oddity of Prompto’s might be abhorrent to Gladio. Just this in itself.

This secret.

Prompto attempts to shrink back against the shower wall, bracing himself for -

“Okay,” Gladio breathes, warm hands coming up to cup Prompto’s face. Gladio angles Prompto’s face up and dips down to press their mouths together. “Whatever you want,” Gladio promises and Prompto’s not sure how but he can just tell he means it.

Prompto pushes up on his toes to kiss him again and slot their bodies together. He wriggles against Gladio for a second then reaches between them to start stroking Gladio’s dick, working the impressive length to full hardness.

Gladio submits to him easily, one hand cradling the back of his head carefully and the other pressing against the small of Prompto’s back to make it easier for them to kiss.

Prompto sighs as his stress falls off him under Gladio’s mouth and hands and Gladio pulls back just enough to ask, “What do you want?”

Prompto wants to be pinned against the shower wall and have the memory of what just happened fucked out of him, wants Gladio to open him up with his mouth again, all slick and hot. Prompto wants Gladio to fuck his mouth and see if Prompto can get all the way down to the base with a better angle.

“Hmm. Will you wash my hair?” Prompto asks coyly.

Gladio seems, understandably, surprised by the request but agrees readily enough even though he doesn’t seem to understand what Prompto’s angling for.

“Better make it easy for you then,” Prompto muses dropping down onto his knees.

It makes more noise than Prompto was expecting and honestly kind of smarts but he distracts himself by mouthing at Gladio’s tip and licking up the water running over it. Gladio gives a low groan and tangles his hand into Prompto’s hair, tugging at it teasingly.

“Shit, baby,” Gladio bites out as Prompto sinks further onto him. Gladio reaches with his other hand for his little shower caddie and Prompto chuckles around his length, surprised Gladio took him so seriously.

Gladio abandons his search, reaching simply to turn the water down a little before bringing that hand round to Prompto's jaw, letting his thumb trace around where Prompto’s mouth is pulled wide around his dick. Prompto adjusts his stance against the floor, trying to find a comfortable angle to tilt his head further, to slip more of Gladio into his mouth - throat - without having to pull back.

Prompto runs his hands up Gladio’s thighs and the big guy hisses when Prompto pulls back a little to catch his breath and lave at the sensitive area just under Gladio’s head.

“Shit,” Gladio mutters and his hips flex forward just once before he seems to steel himself, knees locking and jaw tense.

Prompto makes a noise of dissent and bobs down onto Gladio again, sinking on and off a few times before pulling off completely and leaning in to nuzzle the base.

“Gladio,” Prompto says quietly, voice already just a touch rough.

“What do you want, baby?” Gladio asks.

Prompto blushes, nerves silencing him for half a second. He nuzzles Gladio again and says meekly, “Fuck my mouth?”

It isn’t really supposed to come out as a question but for some reason it does.

Gladio laughs, just a little and gently pulls Prompto away from his dick with the hold on his hair. It doesn’t hurt or pull in any way but Prompto still whines, all need, in the back of his throat, a shot of arousal making his own dick twitch. Gladio leans down and Prompto straightens up as much as possible to make it easer if them to kiss.

Gladio strokes down the column of Prompto’s throat when he pulls back.

“That’s what you want?”

Prompto nods quickly.

“You won’t let me hurt you?” Gladio checks.

Prompto shakes his head so fast he almost makes himself dizzy, movement small and abrupt in Gladio’s hold. Prompto reaches for Gladio’s dick again, stroking him while Gladio kisses his mouth once more. Prompto squeezes Gladio’s thighs again to reassure him and it seems to work.

Gladio straightens up and replaces Prompto’s hand with his own, tilting Prompto’s head back by his hair. Prompto drops his mouth open eagerly accepting Gladio back into his mouth, moaning at the salty burst of precome that hits his tongue.

At first his thrusts are tentative, Gladio doesn’t even take away his hand, stopping himself from thrusting too deep too fast. Prompto doesn’t mind, even as much as he wants Gladio to just wreck him, he knows that Gladio has to get used to it, has to trust himself as much as Prompto does.

Prompto goes lax as Gladio moves, sinking into the feeling of Gladio taking his own pleasure in Prompto’s mouth, the pleasure of being used. It’s a fight to keep his eyes open, to focus on Gladio’s face or his tight clenched abdomen when all they want to do is flutter closed and let Prompto lose himself completely in action.

Gladio inhales sharply and his next thrust sinks him deeper, nudges his head into Prompto’s throat and Prompto tries to swallow around it, entice him deeper but Gladio’s already pulling back, panting with some concealed effort.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Gladio murmurs and if Prompto wasn’t already boiling from the inside he would have gone hot from his shoulders to the top of his ears. “Gods, baby,” Gladio carries on, “I can’t -”

He cuts off with a slightly more abrupt thrust, his fingers brushing against Prompto’s mouth where he still has a hold of himself. Prompto moans around him, his dick throbbing with need as Gladio sets up a faster rhythm, finally taking Prompto in line with how he normally would. It’s oddly blissful and Prompto suspects his cock is drooling his as his mouth, thankful for the water splashing around them.

Gladio groans, a rough choke of a noise as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“Fuck, baby - Freckles. Gonna come -”

Prompto pulls in Gladio’s hold to tilt his head back just a little further so Gladio slips in smoother, fingers tight on Gladio’s almost shaking thighs. Gladio lets go of his dick, sinking deeper but not all the way in still and Prompto’s eyes do flutter shut as Gladio cries out, bursting hot and wet onto the back of Prompto's tongue.

The fingers in Prompto’s hair loosen and he pulls his head back in a slow slide, to lap at the ends of Gladio’s dick, playing with his slit and cleaning up every last drop of spend.

Prompto glances up and Gladio’s head is hanging forward, staring at him with open awe, one arm braced against the shower wall. Prompto feels a spike of pride at that. Prompto did that. Or at least his body did.

Gladio takes in a deep breath and exhales roughly. His fingers tighten in Prompto’s hair again.

“Come here,” Gladio grunts and between the hand in his hair and a rough grip on Prompto’s upper arm Gladio helps him stagger to his feet, knees almost locked in position. Gladio bends down and they’re kissing before Prompto’s fully upright.

Prompto goes up onto his tip toes, pressing himself up against Gladio’s body, shamelessly rutting his cock against Gladio’s thigh.

“I’ve got you,” Gladio says and Prompto sighs in relief only to cut off in a sharp whine when Gladio suddenly grabs him by both hips and pushes him away slightly.

“No,” Prompto gasps, “Gladio -”

“I’ve got you,” Gladio repeats, turning Prompto around and pulling him back flush, his spine against Gladio’s chest with his still mostly hard dick nestled between Prompto’s ass cheeks.

Gladio takes a lose hold of Prompto’s cock and he thrusts into Gladio's fist recklessly for a few moments until Gladio’s bracing across Prompto's torso with his spare arm to keep him completely still.

“Uh uh,” Gladio teases, “I said I got you.”

Prompto moans, tossing his head back against Gladio’s shoulder as he’s worked over, torturously slow, toes curling against the slick bathroom tiles.

Prompto’s already throbbing in Gladio’s hold despite having barely been touched and all it really takes is a dozen measured strokes with a calculated twist underneath his head and a soft pinch to one of his nipples and Prompto’s back is arching within Gladio’s hold and spilling himself onto the white tiles.

“Shit,” Prompto mutters feeling drained like he’s just run ten miles.

“Good?” Gladio murmurs, kissing Prompto’s shoulder.

“Mmm,” Prompto hums.

“You’re amazing,” Gladio says matter of fact. He pats Prompto’s hip and says, “Come on.”

Prompto manages to get his feet steady underneath him and Gladio carefully turns Prompto around again. Gladio adjusts the shower spray so a steadier stream of water flows again, still hot despite all the time they’ve spent in here and Prompto feels Gladio’s fingers under his chin tilting his head back so his hair falls under the stream of water, wetting through.

“What are you doing?” Prompto asks.

Gladio kisses his nose, “Washing your hair.”

Prompto laughs but stands still and obediently closes his eyes as Gladio lathers his hair thoroughly, fingers particularly gentle after their play.

When his hair is rinsed and lather free Gladio asks, “You want conditioner too?”

Part of Prompto is surprised that's even an option but he knows first hand how soft the strands of Gladio’s long hair are and realises its actually pretty obvious.

Prompto usually uses two in one stuff. It's cheaper.

“Duh,” he says, closing his eyes again.

- - -

[Noct 20:11] the dinner is fine because its mostly like family adjacent people

[Noct 20:12] gladios family, ignis, cor and like people that have been in my dads staff for ages

[Noct 20:13] but then we have a drinks thing after and all the council are invited and stuff and its all the ancient ones that turn up hoping to get my dad to agree to conservative bullshit when hes three drinks in

[Prompto 20:14] rude. sounds like treason to me.

[Noct 20:15] IF ONLY

[Noct 20:15] fingers crossed theyre dead before i take the throne

[Noct 20:16] that was really bad. i shouldnt have said that

[Prompto 20:17] it’ll be our little secret my best dude

[Noct 20:18] thanks ＼(★^∀^★)／

[Noct 20:19] wait

[Noct 20:19] hold the fucking door

[Prompto 20:20] *holds door*

[Noct 20:21] prom. what are you doing?

[Prompto 20:22] um. moogleflix and art stuff. why?

[Noct 20:23] not now you doofus. for solstice?

[Prompto 20:24] oh! i’m gonna go take pictures down town while its deserted because i think thats gonna be the coolest thing ever. all those streets in central deserted?

[Prompto 20:25] and my boss offered me a closing shift at time and a half because it’s ‘unsociable’

Prompto’s phone suddenly blurts out the national chocobo anthem so loudly he jumps, dropping the phone to the floor and then having to wiggle his hand under his couch to retrieve it.

“Hello?”

“No,” Noct says.

Prompto pulls the phone away from his ear to frown at it. He puts it back.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean,” Noct stresses, “That you absolutely cannot spend Solstice alone and working.”

Prompto rolls his eyes.

“I think actually I can, but maybe we should check with Ignis because he understands rules better than us,” Prompto says sarcastically.

Noct doesn’t say anything for a moment and there’s a brief rustling noise. When Noct speak next his voice sounds different, a little further away but still clear.

“Ignis,” Noct says, “Tell Prompto he’s not allowed to work on Solstice.”

“I think Prompto is in charge of what Prompto does,” Ignis says.

Prompto laughs, “Hi, Iggy.”

“Good evening, Prompto. I hope you’re well,” Ignis says kindly.

Noct sighs, “Guys, come on.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting to happen,” Ignis says.

“Thought you’d be on my side,” Noct mutters. Louder he asks, “Why can’t Prompto come to the Citadel? He won’t be alone and we’ll have someone to help balance out the assholes.”

Ignis pauses and then says, “Perhaps not this year, Noct.”

Prompto’s not allowed in the Citadel. Not past the visitor floors anyhow, but then almost no one is so he’s not particularly offended. Thinks it would probably make pretty pictures though.

“So I’ll blow it off,” Noct says, “And hang out with Prompto.”

“Noct,” Prompto and Ignis say at the same time.

“You know you can’t do that,” Ignis adds softly.

The rustling noise happens again for longer this time and then Prompto recognises the distinct sound of a door being shut sharply. Not slammed, but definitely not gently pushed closed.

“Noct,” Prompto says, “You know I’m not upset right? About working and stuff?”

“I think it would be easier if you were,” Noct says.

“Huh?”

“Like,” Noct says obviously hesitant, “I guess doing kinda nothing is normal for you.”

“Well, yeah,” Prompto says, “I didn’t even know Solstice was a thing until I was ten and then the group home had like a few ancient decorations and we’d have a traditional Niflheim fruit pudding after dinner.”

“Like a pie?” Noct asks, suddenly perking up, “Could Iggy make you one?”

“Ugh, no,” Prompto groans, “Like a weird steamed thing with raisins in it and like animal fat. It’s so nasty.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss it at all,” Prompto assures him.

“There’s nothing you miss?” Noct asks, “Like, you don’t want me to rent a snow machine or something?”

“Absolutely not,” Prompto says quickly, “I hate snow, dude. Hate it.”

There’s a long pause and Prompto’s well versed in the absence of noise Noct makes while he’s gearing up to say something he’s worried about saying. Usually it’s something Noct thinks is embarrassing and Prompto thinks is cute. So he waits.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Noct says eventually, “Like at all, but especially on a holiday.”

Prompto smiles.

That was pretty cute.

And he’d honestly prefer it too, but he’s not sure it’s a completely reasonable expectation in life to never be alone. Prompto’s pre-Insomnia is a pretty solid example of that.

“Dude,” Prompto teases, “You’ll make me cry.”

Noct snorts, “Shut up.”

Prompto stays silent, mostly to be a troll and Noct groans after a minute.

“I didn’t mean - you’re the worst you know that?” Noct asks, “Does Gladio know?”

“Huh? Uh - I guess. I mean, he’s knows I’m not going back - that I don’t have any family y’know. But he’ll be busy, right? With his family and then with you.”

“I mean he has plans yeah. But that's not really what I was getting at - he’s not gonna be too busy to think about you,” Noct says.

Prompto had kind of thought that Gladio would actually be too busy to think about him. He knows Gladio loves his family, is unwaveringly dedicated to his little sister and a fledgling relationship with Prompto hardly seems like something that would even register on his things to worry about on Solstice radar.

“Prom?”

“Sorry,” Prompto says, “Uh - I guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

Noct hums thoughtfully, “You working Monday night?”

“Solstice eve-eve?”

“Yeah,” Noct laughs, “Solstice eve-eve. You working?”

“Nah, last day of freedom for a few days,” Prompto says.

“Well you have plans now,” Noct says, “You. Me. Arcade friend-date.”

Prompto grins, “Sounds amazing.”

“I have a meeting until three but I’ll thrown on jeans and pick you up before four, okay? We’ll game, get terrible arcade pizza and fries and play overpriced two player arcade games until we drop.”

- - -

Prompto has yet another shitty day at work on Saturday.

Erinn explains that its always like this at this time of year. People short tempered on the run up to the holiday, eager for the several days offices close so Insomnians can celebrate the Solstice holiday.

Niflheim celebrates too, technically, but they don’t really have the same traditions. Family dinners, sure, but the traditional Niflheim food is considerably different though and their old fashioned decorations are all carved wood and stone, bare branches hung with lanterns that got pushed out to metal sculptures and neon lights as the nation pushed towards technological advances.

Insomnia might not have snow like other parts of Lucis and Tenebrae do but Prompto thinks he much prefers this to anything he’s ever known before.

Even if he’s not going to experience it the way most people do.

Prompto is more than happy to get up early on Sunday morning to head to to Insomnia Ink, not even a little perturbed when Eli mentions they might have a lot to do today because Eli’s getting on a ferry at nine o’clock and that means they probably need to get the shop ready to close up until the new year.

It’s mostly cleaning work but Eli stops Prompto just before lunch - when Prompto’s sure the smell of bleach is permanently burned into his nose hair - and tells him to mock up a little closed for the holidays sign on the computer. It’s a nice reprieve from the cleaning.

Gladio strolls in a little early, shamelessly calling Prompto over to him so he can give him a warm peck on the cheek. In complete full view of Eli.

Gladio doesn’t seem to notice Prompto’s faint bleach smell or Eli’s shit eating grin.

The ramen joint they stop in to pick up dinner is festooned in coloured lights with a miniature - but very real - Solstice tree sat on the counter. Prompto likes it and wonders if he might have the spare money next year to have a little tree and maybe buy a wreath for his door. Probably not but its a nice idea.

Gladio puts their order in and they head over to a corner to wait for it, Gladio’s arm draped loosely over Prompto’s shoulders with Prompto turned in towards Gladio’s body not because he needs the warmth but because he likes it.

There’s a TV fixed high up in the corner above the counter playing the news with the sound off and somehow it’s oddly fascinating to watch the headlines scroll past. Prompto catches the tail end of something about the Citadel but none of his friends or his boyfriend have mentioned anything so Prompto doesn’t really care enough to pay attention long enough to catch it when it comes round again.

He settles against Gladio and even closes his eyes, worried about whatever had bothered Gladio during his appointment but not too worried because Gladio’s posture is so relaxed. Prompto’s pretty sure he’s the only one still worried about it. In his back pockets Prompto’s phone vibrates for two short buzzes - a new text - and he stifles a yawn as he pulls it free.

[Eli 20:37] Still nothing going on, huh?

Prompto laughs in surprise and Gladio makes an inquisitive noise so Prompto tilts the phone up for him to read. Gladio snorts and kisses the top of his head. An older couple across the room from them suddenly starts up a whispered conversation and Prompto tries to tell himself it’s probably not about them. They were already snuggling, he can’t imagine a head kiss could have set them off.

He’s not Gralea anymore.

Prompto rests his head against Gladio’s chest again and thumbs open his front camera, angling the phone so it’s just his face leaning against a chest that is obviously Gladio even though none of his face is visible and drops a picture into his chat with Eli.

[Prompto 20:39] [Image 21799.jpg]

[Prompto 20:40] nope. not a thing.

[Eli 20:41] Well I’m happy for you even if you are a little brat.

[Prompto 20:42] (人´∀｀)．☆．。．:*･°

[Eli 20:43] What does that even mean?

[Eli 20:43] Don’t actually tell me. My life will be no better for knowing.

[Prompto 20:44] have fun on your trip! say hi to fi for me

Prompto slips his phone back into his pocket and the server approaches the counter with a bag of food, calling their number.

-

Prompto sits cross legged on the ground in front of Gladio’s coffee table, bowl resting on the wood surface on top of a clean tea-towel he’d insisted on putting down even though Gladio said it didn’t matter.

Prompto’s messy.

Squirming a little with impatience Prompto listens to the sound of Gladio’s chopsticks hitting his bowl for as long as he can manage, taking just a few mouthfuls of his own dinner before looking over his shoulder at him and saying, “So what was bothering you earlier?”

Gladio swallows and that unease he’d carried over their coffee at Insomnia Ink returns.

“What are you doing on Solstice?” he asks carefully.

Oh.

Huh.

Noct was right.

“I’m going down town to take pictures while it’s deserted because, man, the pictures will be amazing,” Prompto explains with as much enthusiasm as he can muster in the face of Gladio’s concern, “And then my boss is paying me time and a half to work a late-late shift.”

“Wait, seriously?” Gladio’s blurts and Prompto’s expecting some kind of push back like Noct’s not the confused exclamation of - “Who buys sushi on Solstice?”

“That’s what I said,” Prompto says, remembering quizzing his boss on just that when he’d first been asked, “But apparently he gets a crazy rush from like nine to midnight. I think its drunk people.”

“Huh.”

“Also me, I guess,” Prompto muses remembering the other half of his boss’ deal. He’d been very enthusiastic about getting someone in to cover the front for him, “Because he said he’ll also make me whatever I want for dinner.”

There’s a particular spicy roll he likes and, thanks to Iggy, he’s also developed a taste for the mango ones. His boss usually hates making them because sometimes they get a million orders for them and other days absolutely no one wants them.

“Are you - Prom, are you okay with all that?” Gladio manages to ask, falling over his words adorably.

“Why?” Prompto asks, a little confused. And then - “Oh - because it’s Solstice?”

Gladio nods tentatively.

Prompto shrugs, really genuinely not bothered, “It’s still a better day than I would have had in Gralea. Plus, I really do want good shots of the architecture without people in the way.”

Prompto really, really, really does want to do that. Pictures of those deserted streets in the day time must be rare as shit.

Gladio’s mouth works a little and Prompto can already feel the Noct like reaction in the works. Though Gladio will perhaps be less demanding in his care.

“I know its odd for you and I’ve already kind of had a fight with Noct about this -”

“What? When?” Gladio interrupts.

“The other day when he found out. He wanted to like, bail on the Citadel stuff and come hole up in my apartment or just sneak me in and damn the consequences but I really, really don’t mind,” Prompto enthuses. He knows he has a very different life to his friends, that their standards for being content are markedly different to one another and Prompto worries that none of them will believe what he’s saying due to their own feelings.

It’s understandable even if it is a tiny bit frustrating.

“Please don’t be sad for me, really,” Prompto half begs, “Earning money and taking cool shots that no one ever gets to take is an amazing day for me.”

Gladio kind of sighs and admits, “I wish I could be with you.”

Prompto’s heart swells up and then promptly melts.

“That’s sweet,” Prompto tells him earnestly, “But meeting your Dad on Solstice morning when we’ve only been together like a week seems the opposite of chill to me.”

Gladio laughs and shakes his head a little, “Iris would probably be the least chill thing there if we did that, but I get you.”

Prompto pushes himself up to sit on the couch next to Gladio and lean into his side, earning himself a sweet little head kiss.

“I really, really won’t be sad or anything, I promise,” Prompto, well, promises.

“Can I call you before you work though?” Gladio asks like he thinks Prompto might actually say no, “Maybe get Noct in on the action too.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says quickly, “Also Iggy promised to pack me up a container of leftovers from your fancy ass feast so you can help pick out all my favourite bits.”

“How many types of stuffing do you want?” Gladio asks grinning.

“How many are there?” Prompto asks. He could maybe name three types of stuffing if he thought really hard about it.

Carefully he grabs his noodles, scooping them up tea towel and all to rest against his knees.

“Six last year but Iggy’s been experimenting in the kitchen so who knows.”

Prompto’s mouth drops open in shock.

Six.

Six.

Prompto had no idea Ignis had such strong feelings towards the side dish.

Gladio has to clear his throat of some broth that seemingly went down the wrong way but when he has he reaches out with one hand to gently push Prompto’s chin up so his mouth closes.

“Six?”

Gladio nods.

- - -

Noct knocks on his door just before four on Solstice eve-eve wearing jeans as promised but looking a little like the rips on his knees aren’t the only part of him fraying at the edges.

“You wanna stay in instead?” Prompto offers after one look at his face.

Noct shakes his head, “Somewhere with a crowd to blend in to is just what I need.”

Prompto knows that the easiest place for Noct to hide is obviously somewhere with no one to even look at him in the first place but is starting to realise that the true satisfaction for Noct lies in being around human beings and none of them paying attention to him.

Anonymity. Not seclusion.

Normality, Ignis would say. Noct just wants to be normal.

“Lets go then!” Prompto says excitedly and Noct manages a grin, heading back to the car while Prompto locks up. Noct’s settled himself behind Ignis so Prompto climbs into the front passenger seat so Ignis doesn’t feel like a chauffeur.

Ignis looks a little tired too.

“Hey, Iggy,” Prompto says, “You coming with us?”

Ignis shakes his head, “Thought it would be best if you two had some time to yourselves.”

“Ooo evening off,” Prompto teases, “Nice.”

Noct scoffs, “He’s going back to the Citadel.”

“Why?”

Ignis chuckles, “I’d like to do some of the tricker work on some of my desserts without distractions,” Ignis says pointedly.

Noct poorly stifles a grin.

“Are you making them for the dinner or -?”

“Some things I’ve made are for the sit down meal but I’m also making smaller desserts for the evening too,” Ignis explains, smoothly driving them out of Prompto’s neighbourhood.

“I feel like this is outside the remit of what an adviser does,” Prompto muses. He doesn’t really mean anything by it, just thinking allowed and he worries as soon as he’s said it like Ignis might think Prompto’s criticising him.

Instead Ignis laughs.

“This I do because I like it,” Ignis says.

Ignis must know some super secret, mega shortcut because they get to the arcade in no time at all.

“You need us to text when we’re done?” Prompto asks, “Or has Noct got a curfew?”

Ignis smile seems strangely smug, “Oh you’ll get home just fine.”

Prompto frowns a little but Noct’s eager to be on with it so he drags Prompto off towards the exit, forcing Prompto to wave his goodbyes to Ignis.

Nyx has chaperoned about ninety percent of his and Noct’s arcade friend-dates, leaning casually by the entrance and looking more like a male model than any overworked soldier has any right to and causing a massive distraction to any male attracted person that walks past.

Prompto’s heart belongs solely to Gladio, of course, but he’s got eyes.

Noct says Nyx always offers for chaperone duty - it’s technically outside his remit of duties because he’s a Glaive - because he just gets to go straight home with Ignis afterwards.

Back in the day - when Noct would go to the arcade by himself or drag Ignis inside with him - Noct says he had to endure an endless stream of Nyx attempting to flirt with Ignis and him resolutely denying he was enjoying it the whole ride home. Prompto wishes he’d been around for that.

Instead, today's male model of choice is -

“Gladio,” Prompto almost yells, happily skipping ahead of Noct to meet Gladio for a warm kiss. He pulls back quickly, remembering that Gladio’s leaning up against the wall in prime working position and not wanting to get him in trouble if that is at all possible. Gladio just grins and stoops to kiss him again.

“Oh hey,” Noct says, “You got away.”

“Dad’s in a good mood,” Gladio explains, “Let everyone out early. Nyx is on making sure Ignis eats as well as cooks duty.”

Noct laughs and eyes Gladio a little suspiciously when he moves to settle back against the wall.

“You not coming inside?”

Gladio shakes his head, “You guys go have fun.”

Prompto feels Noct glance at him.

“You sure?” Noct asks.

“I’m gonna take him home later - if he wants,” Gladio says, “So you can play with him for now and I’ll have my turn later.”

Prompto laughs but Noct groans and moves to shove Gladio as he walks past him. Prompto darts forwards to kiss Gladio one last time and whisper in his ear, “I want.”

Gladio throws a wink at him as he follows after Noct.

-

They set a new score on the Dead 4 Dayz coop mode and Noct keys in their combo name - NAP for Noctis and Prompto - before stepping back to allow the two younger teens behind them a turn.

“Are you hungry?” Noct asks and Prompto admits that he’s starving, expecting Noct to lead him over to food area but instead he just pulls out his phone and starts texting, walking over, instead, to a strategy game that Prompto loves but Noct hates, depositing a token and indicating Prompto should play.

It goes pretty well but Prompto makes the kind of mistake early on that’s hard to recover from and he’s kind of distracted by all the noise - there’s a particularly rowdy group of teen girls monopolising the dancing games - so he’s more than ready to call it quits when he dies.

Noct glances at his phone and says, “Come on.”

They head to the restaurant now, bypassing the counters and sitting themselves down at a booth for four in the corner.

Noct looks oddly smug and Prompto squints at him.

“You’re up to something,” he muses.

Noct laughs and a nods, “Yep.”

What Noct’s up to becomes quickly apparent when Gladio appears at their table with one of those plastic order numbers and a receipt, which he tucks under the number when he sets it down on the table.

“You’re a brat,” Gladio tells Noct, sliding into the booth next to Prompto. He slips his hand onto Prompto’s thigh under the table.

Noct grins but focuses in on Prompto when he brightly says, “Thanks!”

“What?” Prompto asks, laughing just a little nervously.

“Gladio never would have gotten the food if you weren’t here,” Noct says, “So thanks.”

Prompto rolls his eyes and turns to Gladio. More sincerely than Noct he says, “Thank you.”

“What pizza did you order?” Noct asks, interrupting them before they could stare at each other for too long. Probably a good call to be fair.

“That horrendous meat feast thing with hot dog slices on it that you love so much,” Gladio says, “But I ordered fries and wings and stuff too. So people don’t have to eat cheese if they don’t want.”

Prompto knows that’s aimed at him and he whines, “I like cheese.”

A waitress appears suddenly then, deposits two dark coloured sodas and one clear before disappearing with barely a word to clear a table a few down from them strewn with half empty cups and crumpled napkins. Gladio slides the clear cup towards Prompto and he takes a large sip gratefully.

Prompto loves the arcade but there’s something about the noise and the heat that exhausts him and makes him feel just a little on edge. Plus, he can shower right before he heads out and he’ll get home feeling like its been a fortnight since he last washed.

Gladio squeezes his leg.

“I got spicy daggerquill tenders for you,” Gladio offers and Prompto perks up despite himself.

He guesses that’s okay.

Also, when Noct’s beloved pizza does arrive it looks kind of gross. Prompto’s eaten a lot of shitty food in his life but that monstrosity does not seem to be worth the stomach ache the cheese would give him.

Instead he tries buffalo wings and stacked nachos eating almost all the tenders Gladio ordered - Noct thinks they’re too spicy and Gladio clearly just wants Prompto to enjoy them - alongside more fried potatoes that Prompto knew he was capable of consuming.

Gladio kisses his head before sliding out of the booth.

“Just come outside when you guys are done,” Gladio tells Noct.

“You sure you’re okay out there?” Noct asks, looking a little guilty now. Prompto suspects he never actually expected Gladio to give in and organise their dinner for them. Prompto’s glad he at least stayed to eat with them.

Gladio rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you bored?” Prompto asks.

“I’ve got a book with me,” Gladio says, “Plus you guys stay late enough and I might get to see all the suits stumbling out of their office Solstice parties. Endlessly entertaining.”

“Well,” Noct says and he cracks his knuckles, “Guess we’ve got some gaming to get to then.”

-

Somehow its almost eleven when they finally call it quits. NAP now holds the three top spots on Dead 4 Dayz and Noct takes a picture of it proudly, dropping it, no doubt, into a message sent directly to Iggy.

Prompto’s tired, more than ready to go home at this point, his alertness drooping every time Noct yawns.

Which is often.

Gladio straightens as soon as they appear outside, tucking the small paperback in his hand into his back pocket.

“You guys done?”

Noct nods, “I’ll let Iggy know we’re on the way back.” He pulls out his phone again as they walk over to Gladio’s car. Prompto actually feels pretty dumb for not noticing it when they’d arrived earlier.

“I’ve gotta drop you in public parking and some Guard will be there to walk you up,” Gladio tells him, “We can’t go through the Crown entrance with Prompto in the car.”

Noct frowns, “So dumb.”

“I know,” Gladio agrees.

“Like, he’s allowed in a car with me, but not if that car goes through a specific gate into the Citadel.”

“I can wait somewhere else,” Prompto says hurriedly, “Or like get the bus -”

Gladio pointedly opens the passenger door for him and gestures for Prompto to get in.

Prompto gets in.

He glances at Noct in the back seat as he’s clicking in his seat belt.

“How come you never sit up front?” Prompto asks, realising for the first time that he’s never seen Noct in the front of a car.

His friend blushes, just a faint pink across his cheekbones.

Gladio laughs but cuts it off quickly when Noct scowls at him.

“The seat behind the driver is the safest,” Gladio explains as seriously as he can, “So it’s protocol he sits there.”

“Wait, for real?” Prompto asks.

“Ignis looked up the statistics of accident fatalities,” Noct complains, “Because he’s a nerd and now it’s an actual security protocol me and Dad sit behind our drivers.”

“Wow,” Prompto breathes.

Sure, Prompto’s poor and stuff, but at least he can choose where he sits in the car.

-

[Noct 23:13] see you in a few days

[Noct 23:14] and i promise to give you the special mega grand tour of the citadel once youre allowed in to see all the cool bits okay? you can take all the pictures you want

[Noct 23:14] what’s the point in visiting if you cant go spy in gladio training?

“That Noct?” Gladio asks, noticing the incessant buzzing.

“Yeah,” Prompto says, “Think he feels bad about the Citadel and stuff.”

It had been fine, really. It was the closest Prompto’s ever gotten to the magnificent building and the only awkwardness had come when Gladio had to give Prompto’s name to the gate guard on the way in and out.

Both Gladio and Noct had seemed to take issue with the guys attitude but Prompto hadn't found anything particularly bothersome about him.

“I dunno what the hold up on getting you clearance is,” Gladio murmurs.

Prompto thinks he might know what the hold up is.

“I’ll look into it for you,” Gladio says kindly just as he pulls up outside Prompto’s apartment.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says quickly, not wanting Gladio to go digging. Astrals know what he'd find.

Gladio frowns a little and Prompto rushes to reassure him, “You’re busy. It’s not a big deal. The Citadel isn’t going anywhere.”

Gladio hums thoughtfully and leans across to kiss Prompto softly.

When Gladio pulls away Prompto buries a yawn behind his hand. Gladio smiles.

“You still want me to come inside?”

Prompto blushes at the little double entendre and Gladio laughs.

“I didn’t mean that,” he promises.

Prompto smiles, “I didn’t even realise we’d come back here. You wanna squish up in my little bed?”

“I really do,” Gladio says.

Chapter Text

Prompto wakes up Solstice Eve flat on his belly with a warm weight draped over one of his thighs and the feeling of Gladio’s fingers trailing up and down his spine under his t-shirt. Prompto must do something that indicates he’s awake because Gladio starts to touch him a little more firmly - the flat of his palm soothing the small of his back - and drops a kiss on his shoulder.

They hadn’t actually done anything last night. Prompto had, admittedly, been more than a little sleepy so he’d simply rinsed off the smell of the arcade in his shower and then crawled into Gladio’s arms where he was reclining in Prompto’s bed, Gladio having dragged the coffee table and TV around to face the bed.

It was super nice and Prompto had dropped off to sleep no more than half way through a movie that he now remembers nothing about.

Prompto wiggles over onto his side, facing Gladio and murmurs, “Morning.”

Part of him is worried about morning breath but it's Gladio that leans in to kiss him and Prompto returns it eagerly, opening his mouth for Gladio’s tongue.

Generally speaking Prompto wakes up half hard - or more sometimes - and today is no different so he feels his way across and then down Gladio’s firm abdomen, wondering how long it’d take him to get Gladio hard too.

No time at all, as it turns out, because Prompto finds Gladio rock solid in his underwear. Prompto smirks as he teases his fingers over the impressive length and Gladio lets out a low hiss, reaching to squeeze one of Prompto’s ass cheeks.

“You should have woken me up,” Prompto says pointedly rubbing his thumb into the sensitive patch under Gladio's tip.

Gladio smiles all soft but his voice is a little rough, “You looked too pretty to disturb.”

Prompto flushes scarlet and deftly manoeuvres his hand under Gladio’s waistband to encircle Gladio’s dick in a tight fist. It’s a little dry but Prompto works him slowly and from the huffed breath Gladio lets out Prompto assumes it feels at least some what good.

“You gotta rush off?” Prompto asks.

He's vaguely aware that Gladio has family Solstice stuff starting today but he doesn’t know exactly what that means, like if that’s just an Amicitia thing or a fancy Lucian family thing. Noct and Iggy have stuff on too, but that could just be the Citadel.

“As long as I'm at the Citadel before midday I'll survive,” Gladio says, “So I’ve got some time.”

Prompto grins and drops his hold on Gladio, moving instead to push the boxers all the way down. Gladio chuckles and, when Prompto urges, rolls carefully on top of him.

-

Prompto attempts to work on one of the sketchbooks that’s sort of part of his portfolio but ends up tossing it to one side to work on the one containing his weirdly complete graphic novelisation of Sweetest Grace.

It’s Gladio’s fault.

Absolutely, completely the big guy's fault.

He’d seemed to randomly remembered it existed this morning during his shower and then pleaded at Prompto with big sad eyes while the blond attempted to fry eggs for toast until he’d capitulated and let Gladio look through it in person.

It is much better in real life than phone pictures, Prompto can admit.

Gladio had gushed over it, a stream of constant praise and compliments that had made Prompto's skin burn hot and his stomach flutter happily.

But the book had been out then, just sat in plain view next to the coffee cup Gladio had used and almost screaming at Prompto for attention. Even if only he and Gladio can enjoy it it’s still worth working on, right?

Admittedly Prompto’s being pretty lazy. He’s got work later, but not until six and he’s not even bothered to shower yet. He’d delayed Gladio getting up this morning - in one sense of the word - so Prompto had sent his boyfriend off for a shower while he’d started on breakfast and made coffee.

Prompto considers the trade off between being a little uncomfortable between his thighs and the scent of Gladio lingering on him to be completely worth it.

Honestly, he’s being so lazy he doesn’t realise it’s time he should be getting something to eat when he gets a text from Iggy and sees the time stamp.

[Iggy 13:38] The composition is not as good as what you could create but I thought it a sweet image you would enjoy nonetheless.

[Iggy 13:39] [Image 00762.jpg]

Prompto just about expires of adorableness.

There’s a lot happening in this picture. A lot.

Dead centre is Noct, sat on a chair surrounded by kids, all of them probably ten or under, with a particularly young one on his lap. He’s small and a little frail looking with a big thick hat pulled down over his ears. Noct’s got one armed hooked around the little boy, keeping him secure and the other is reaching into a bag of wrapped solstice presents - shiny silver paper with black ribbons.

Gladio’s sat right on the floor next to Noct with little ones of his own perched on his lap, one on each leg. One of them is a little girl with a mass of bright orange curls, her smile pushing so wide it’s nudging the tube of her cannula higher up her cheeks.

Prompto had worn a cannula for a while during one of his longer hospital stints. He was probably older than this little cutie though and his heart goes out to her – Prompto always had a real mild reaction to the adhesive tape and it itched like crazy. He hopes she’s not too sick but if she’s there now - if she’s earned a visit from the Crown Prince and retinue -

A girl Prompto recognises as Iris from a picture in Gladio's apartment is crouched by Gladio’s side holding up a picture book for the kids to see and Prompto thinks Gladio might be reading aloud from it.

Prompto doesn’t think he can look at the image for too long without crying.

Behind the three of them are two people that Prompto recognises from the news, King Regis - with his hand resting on Noct’s shoulder - and his Shield, Clarus Amicitia.

Who is Gladio’s dad, Prompto realises with a start.

Somehow that information had never actually registered before.

They look somewhat alike, Prompto muses, obviously related by their stature and the set of their jaw, but Gladio must get the bronzed quality of his skin from his mother because Iris and Clarus are almost as pale as Prompto their hair a few shades lighter that Gladio’s.

Prompto wonders why no one told him this is what they all do on Solstice Eve. Prompto would have only been supportive, maybe just a little jealous, but certainly wouldn't have judged.

Okay he might have teased Noct. Unable to compute the idea of him willingly playing with children, having one on his lap with a smile and not a grimace.

Noct’s about a thousand times sweeter than he lets people believe.

[Prompto 13:44] this is too cute. i’m dead.

[Prompto 13:45] how long have you guys been doing this?

[Iggy 13:46] Noct has always undertaken a charitable endeavour for Solstice, mobility allowing, but this is the first time we have done something of this nature.

[Iggy 13:47] He seems to be much more engaged in this than when we ladle soup - I suspect it’s the lack of vegetables.

[Prompto 13:48] that’s so nice! i’m sure the kids really appreciate it.

Maybe, Prompto thinks, he’ll get to go next year. Just to help out. He wants to ask, but he also doesn’t want a negative answer so he doesn’t.

- - -

Prompto almost forgets it’s Solstice when he gets up in the morning. He’s up as early as ever and he simply pulls on his sneakers, his leggings and his long sleeved running top and heads out for a run - energetic but not too exuberant music pulsing in his ears.

By the time he’s back and out of his shower he has a message waiting for him.

[Gladio 09:07] Good morning baby. Happy Solstice <3

[Prompto 09:18] happy solstice handsome!（*＾3＾）

[Prompto 09:19] [Image 16379.jpg]

It’s just a selfie of him, taken just then, bright smile genuine and wide, face a little flushed from the heat of his shower. Prompto’s not sure why he sends it exactly, just that he thinks Gladio will enjoy seeing his smiling face this morning.

[Gladio 09:21] I’ve told you how beautiful you are right?

[Prompto 09:22] mayyyybe

And Prompto sends another picture, this time he’s blowing a kiss.

-

[Noct 10:18] happy solstice bud!

[Noct 10:19] [Image 07986.jpg]

[Prompto 10:21] dude. that is a tonne of pancakes.

[Prompto 10:22] happy solstice!

[Noct 10:22] iggy is supposed to have today mostly off but there’s something VERY specs about the arrangement of my chocolate chips

[Prompto 10:23] concentric circles?

[Noct 10:24] neat spiral

-

Deserted Insomnia is something else.

Stark and beautiful but somehow still warm and welcoming despite the grand architecture that screams austerity and wealth.

It’s not entirely empty, of course, there are a few people out and about, with nowhere to go and no one to celebrate with like Prompto or perhaps on their way to wherever they’re going.

Plenty of dog walkers too, bundled up in gloves and coats. Prompto takes plenty of surreptitious pictures of them, faces fuzzy or turned away - because he’s not a creep - and plenty of staged too, dogs bounding through piles of slightly damp leaves.

A young couple even stops Prompto to ask him to take their picture with their phone - it’s their first holiday together since they got married - and Prompto does so gladly.

He kind of skirts the Citadel though, oddly uncomfortable with going so close when all his companions are inside it. Without him.

It would be a perfect opportunity to get a good shot without tourists bumbling across his viewfinder or stopping to ask him directions - like his blond hair isn’t a dead giveaway that he doesn’t really know. Though maybe its not such a giveaway when you don't live here yourself.

The tower ends up in a lot of his shots though, the tallest building on the Insomnia skyline, poking up behind other impressive buildings. Prompto has a list of buildings he wants though and he’d spent a little time yesterday writing up a list and trying to plot a logical journey around the city. He trudges down to the harbour before working his way across the city, taking a few more shots of the theatre and fishing boats as they bob, seemingly abandoned in the not quite still water.

Insomnia doesn’t have any parliament building because everything happens inside the Citadel but it does have buildings that aren’t really churches – or so Ignis says - but stand as dedications to each of the six Astrals. Prompto goes to each of them for pictures and comes away pleased with his work. These are the busiest buildings he sees all day and Shiva is by far the most popular of them all.

Figures.

Prompto’s glad the rain holds off even if the clouds stay heavy; the bright winter sun filters through for beautiful soft lighting.

There’s still a few hours before his shift starts but he’s getting hungry and doesn’t want to be out and about if Gladio remembers to call so he takes himself home through one of his favourite parks and stops to take pictures of the Mystic Statue dead centre there.

Prompto got better already, grabbed on a pre-dawn run not long after he’d arrived in Insomnia - pre-dating his and Noct’s friendship by a week - but they’re not bad enough to be deleted immediately.

Prompto had bundled up for his excursion but he’d maybe over done it on the layers, sweat beading aling the edge of his hat and his neck just a little clammy under his scarf that he rinses off under his shower again before making himself something small to eat.

Prompto's absolutely cashing in on the offer of free sushi. He already has an order in mind.

Prompto’s fresh, clean and full of instant ramen - don’t tell Iggy - when his phone chimes jauntily to let him know he has an incoming video call.

Prompto scrambles for it, laughing as he swipes to connect the call.

“Noct!” he says brightly.

“’Sup dude,” Noct greets lazily.

“Happy Solstice,” Prompto says happily.

“For you maybe,” Noct half mutters but he’s smiling so Prompto knows he doesn’t really mean it, “How have you been?”

Noct asks it like he’s expecting Prompto to break down crying and tell him how miserable he’s been all day.

He's maybe been a little lonely but that's a feeling Prompto is a professional at burying down so deep he can barely feel it. Though he's a little out of practice now.

Prompto rolls his eyes and says, “Amazing. Saw at least twelve dogs and I got pictures I wasn’t even planning on.”

“Okay but did you pet any of the dogs?” Noct asks seriously.

Prompto nods, “One licked me right across the face.”

“Gross,” Noct says but he sounds just a little awed and a lot jealous.

Noct shifts around a little and Prompto gets a view of the room, somehow both tasteful and extravagant in decorations. Prompto imagines all the foliage he can see is real and assumes the room smells as festive as it looks. The green is festooned in black and gold decorations, in keeping with the Crown colours and still managing to look warm and festive.

Prompto really should have picked up some decorations from a charity shop or something, it’s the one pang of regret he has.

“How was the dinner?” Prompto asks.

“Food was amazing of course. Though way too much or it for everyone here,” Noct says with a tinge of irritation, “Iggy’s getting them to pack you a tonne of food. There’s these chocolate peanut butter tart things you’ll love dude.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Prompto says earnestly, those do sound pretty great, “You doing okay?” Prompto checks, knowing that Noct would much rather spend the day with just his Dad - and maybe Iggy and Gladio and Prompto - than all the other people he can hear chattering in the background.

“It’s not so bad,” Noct answers, “Hey, you wanna meet my dad?”

Prompto makes an embarrassing noise born of nerves but Noct just laughs at him, turning to - presumably - look for his Dad. The King. Prompto is not prepared. Nervously he tries to flatten his hair a little as whatever Noct sees makes his grin pull wide.

Prompto knows Noct mischief when he sees it.

“Let me talk to him,” comes Gladio’s voice a little muffled but unmistakable him.

“Hey Big Guy!” Prompto says loudly.

“Call him yourself,” Noctis tells Gladio.

Prompto can’t not laugh at that.

“I can’t right now, can I?” Gladio complains. Noct suddenly moves to the side like he’s dodging out of the way of a grasping hand.

“Just give him here a sec,” Gladio demands.

“Nuh uh,” Noct says and he’s not actually poking out his tongue but honestly he might as well be, “We gotta go talk to my Dad real quick.”

“Noct!” Prompto cries and he can hear Gladio echo him. As Noct starts walking across the room the sound of Ignis laughing fades in and out.

Noct clears his throat and a second later he’s pointing at the phone with an eyebrow half raised, his expression hopeful.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Prompto hears King Regis say to whoever he was talking to before Noct interrupted and Noct turns back to the phone to send Prompto a grin and a furtive thumbs up.

Prompto swallows nervously.

“Dad,” Noct says, “Uh this is Prompto, here.” Noct turns and after some adjusting both Noct and his father are in frame, the King stooping just a little to put his head close to his son’s and offering up a soft wave.

They look somewhat alike, Prompto thinks, similarities around their jaws but there must be a lot of Noct’s mother in his face - his eyes and his nose.

“Ah, Prompto,” the King says, voice warm, “It’s so good to finally meet you - well, in some capacity at least. Noct has told me all about you.”

“Your Majesty,” Prompto says nervously, “You as well - I mean. It’s an honour to meet - to speak with you. Sir.”

Noct rolls his eyes. The King laughs.

“No need for formalities,” King Regis says, “Or these nerves. I assure you I have a high opinion of you already. In these circumstance I am nothing but the father of your friend.”

Prompto blushes bright red and stutters out a thank you. Noct chuckles.

Prompto doesn’t point out that he’s never actually been introduced to a friend’s parent before.

There’s a beat of silence that lasts just long enough for Prompto to feel awkward enough to blurt, “Have you had a nice Solstice?”

The King looks faintly surprised and responds, “A very pleasant day, thank you. Noct got me a wonderful t-shirt and some slippers that I sincerely wish I could wear outside my chambers.”

Prompto’s seen that t-shirt and he laughs imagining the King giving a royal address or holding court with a cartoon chocobo and cactuar fighting on his chest. Prompto honestly thinks it’d probably go down pretty well with the general populace.

Prompto can’t help but laugh at the image and it makes Regis smile broad, the resemblance between him and Noct sharpening.

“And you?” The King asks, “Have you had a pleasant day? Noctis told me you were exploring our fine city. How have you been finding it?”

“It’s amazing,” Prompto enthuses immediately, almost forgetting who he’s talking to, “So beautiful. It’s just a shame I have to work and can’t get decent pictures of the lights tonight.” The sun had just started to go down when Prompto headed back to his apartment but not enough to give the lights any meaningful impact.

Regis’ face is all indulgence. “There’s always next year.”

Prompto grins brightly. He genuinely hadn’t thought of that.

“Next year Prompto will be here,” Noct says pointedly, giving his dad a look.

“I didn’t realise that an invitation here meant he would be kept hostage in this very room,” Regis says, “My what a scandal if the papers find out how we treat our guests.”

Prompto giggles at the look father and son exchange - bemused and fond - and Noct trying desperately to appear as though this whole thing is unbearably tiresome to him. Off to one side someone clears their throat.

“Sorry, Reggie,” comes a deep voice, “Councillor Tameo seems to have come over a little ill and wants to talk with you before he heads home.”

“Alright, Clarus,” King Regis says - Prompto’s eyes widen because that’s Gladio’s dad right there - glancing quickly away before back at Prompto, “Duty calls I’m afraid, Prompto, but it was lovely to speak with you at last.”

“Oh, you as well, Y -your Majesty,” Prompto says.

Regis smiles at him, shaking his head just a little and -

“Prompto? Are you speaking with Prompto?”

Prompto’s screen is suddenly dark, like Noct’s jammed him against his chest. The voices are oddly muffled.

“Nuh uh, no way,” Noct says, “Gladio will actually kill me.”

There are peals of laughter on the other side of the phone and Prompto laughs a little too, leftover nerves making it come out shaky.

“Alright, alright,” the deep voice says again, “Better run away before Tameo expects you to come see him off too.”

Prompto’s in the dark for maybe another half minute and then Noct’s face is coming back into view.

“See?” he says, “Not so bad, right? He’s just a normal dude like me.”

“A little warning,” Prompto wheezes, “Geez. And then I thought - Gladio’s dad…”

Noct shakes his head, “Gladio’s already going to be pissed at me for keeping you to myself like this, absolutely not risking being the one to introduce you to Clarus.”

Prompto's laugh is more a breathless wheeze.

“But like, you heard how excited he was right? So if you’re um - worried about that stuff. Clarus not being supportive or whatever he totally is. So don’t. Worry that is.”

Prompto feels a surge of affection for his friend that is somehow only increased when he looks to one side and offers someone off screen what Noct must think is a bland smile but looks more like a grimace to Prompto.

“No - just talking to my friend,” Noct says in answer to a look or words Prompto can’t hear.

Noct rolls his eyes a little when he glances back, “'Have you got a girlfriend?'” he murmurs in a high tone, “Like I could get one and openly video call her at the Citadel Solstice celebration.”

The idea of Noct with a girlfriend is bizarre - not because of Noct exactly but because he has expressed zero interest in any human that way apart from Luna. Prompto had tentatively asked him about this once and Noct had simply said that he just wasn’t bothered by all that stuff generally - but at least with Luna he could see the possibility that he would be bothered by it and that was enough for him.

Noct does a weird grimace and then starts moving again.

“You probably have work soon, right?”

Prompto nods.

Noct looks around a little then says, “Okay you can talk to your boyfriend now even though…”

Noct trails off and Prompto playfully glares at him, intoning dryly, “He’s not as cool as you are.”

Prompto’s a good friend. He knows what’s expected of him.

Noct’s laugh fades away as Prompto’s screen blurs, images flying past rapidly. There’s a muffled thud , a little rustling and then he’s finally, blessedly looking at Gladio’s gorgeous face.

“Happy Solstice!” Prompto greets happily.

“Hey, baby. You have a good day?” Gladio asks before taking a sip of the dark liquid in his tumbler.

“Heck yeah. The city was deserted,” Prompto says, “So cool. Kinda spooky actually.”

“I’ll be interested in seeing your pictures,” Iggy’s voice says and then the phone is adjusted slightly so Prompto can see Ignis. Prompto waves at him and Ignis smiles back looking just about as relaxed as he ever does with his own glass in hand. His drink is clear though, with a sprig of something green in it.

Gin, Prompto guess, though he just likes his alcohol coloured and sparkly.

“I might get some printed once I’ve done a bit of editing,” Prompto explains knowing he definitely will so some of the images are good enough for his portfolio, “So I’ll be sure to show you them when they’re ready.”

“I look forward to seeing them once they’re up to your exacting standards then,” Ignis corrects with a fond little smile, “I’ll leave you to it. I hope work isn’t too strenuous for you later.”

Ignis offers his own little wave then and Prompto hears him say Noct’s name as he steps away, moving until Prompto can no longer hear them. Prompto looks over his boyfriend, notes the dark grey sweater he seems to be wearing and then smiles.

“How’s your day been?” he asks.

Gladio’s eyes flit across the screen like he’s drinking Prompto in before he says, “Really good. Though I ate too many waffles this morning, I wasn’t even hungry when dinner rolled around.”

Prompto’s never actually seen Gladio be in a position where he’s unable to eat. Kind of an unbelievable prospect based on the sheer mass of him.

“How many types of stuffing were there?” Prompto asks, making Gladio laugh.

“Six again,” Gladio says, “But two of them were new thanks to Iggy, I’m sure you’ll get to try it.”

Prompto raises his eyebrows, “Was he serious about the food?”

Noct had said Ignis was and Ignis had even mentioned a few days ago that he’d save him a dinner but he never actually expected -

“Iggy’s serious about everything,” Gladio says.

A banner drops down over the top of his phone screen, his alarm chiming silently to let him know he needs to head to work soon. Prompto reaches to swipe it away.

“You gotta head off to work?” Gladio asks.

Prompto nods pouting, “Pretty soon. Gotta walk down because the buses aren’t working.”

Prompto’s treating himself to a taxi home because its a holiday but he can’t really justify the cost both ways. Sure it’s already dark but Prompto’s going to skirt some of his less wholesome shortcuts and put his speed to good use if he thinks he’s in any trouble. Not that anything has ever happened to him in Insomnia of course.

“What time are you finished?” Gladio asks, eyebrows cinching together in a frown.

Prompto can quite literally see an idea forming in Gladio’s head so he rushes to explain and reassure.

“Boss says as soon as we die off, about midnight he thinks,” Prompto says, “I already pre-booked a taxi though, before you suggest something incredibly sweet but also dumb.”

The company has an app which is nice because Prompto likes making phone calls like he likes a decent kick in the teeth.

Gladio laughs, looking suitably chastened, “I just worry about you, Freckles.”

Prompto feels his face flush and shyly admits, “I am supremely not used to that.”

“You’ll get there over time,” Gladio promises, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“You better!” Prompto enthuses blowing him a kiss.

Gladio winks before he ends the call.

-

It’s been pretty slow all told.

Largely it’s been youngish people, clearly stopping in on their way home from family gatherings slightly tipsy and ordering, mostly, by jabbing their fingers at items on the menu spread across the counter.

They get a steady rush around ten that takes them up to just past eleven and then it peters out to a slow but steady stream.

Linc pokes his head out of the kitchen - none of the chefs would work today so he’s actually having to do stuff but to his credit he has packed up Prompto a box of sushi that might see him through a couple meals.

“How are we doing?”

Prompto’s refilling the dispenser of soy packets so he turns and says, “Okay I think. Slow right now -”

But of course someone walks in right at that moment - stumbles more like - leaving a group of chattering people outside. Prompto recognises him as a semi regular customer and he spots Prompto grinning broadly as he approaches the counter.

Prompto’s boss glances at him then ducks back into the kitchen.

“Hi,” Prompto says stepping up to the register and offering a smile.

They guys smirks.

“I’m really glad it’s you working,” he says voice louder than it really needs to be.

“Oh yeah?” Prompto says suddenly just a little uncomfortable.

The guy tries to do something and just sort of stumbles into the counter a little.

“When I saw the lights on I thought to myself I’m gonna go get myself a Solstice present,” he says.

Prompto raises his eyebrows, nonplussed and just stares at the guy as his smile pulls wider at first and then dims.

“Your number?”

Prompto blinks, more than a little stunned.

“Oh,” Prompto says, “Um. No thanks?”

The guy frowns and then snorts. “You’re not straight -”

“No,” Prompto interrupts oddly annoyed, “I’m not. I’m just not interested.”

His face sinks down into a full scowl and he snaps, “Why not? What’s the harm?”

Prompto could just say my boyfriend wouldn’t like it and he gets the impression the guy would just back the fuck off but Prompto feels like he shouldn't have to say that, his feelings should be enough.

“I already told you,” Prompto says carefully, to ensure his voice doesn’t waver with nerves, “I’m not interested.”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re usually so sweet,” he says, “What happened to that cute little boy?”

Prompto feels his annoyance increase tenfold. Prompto low-key hates being called cute - unless its Gladio apparently - but little boy? Little boy. What the fuck?

“Guess he didn’t turn up for work today,” Prompto says blandly.

The guy moves then and for a split second Prompto thinks the guy might be trying to grab him or something so he takes a big step back, knocking a short stack of cups off the side. They’re plastic so they don’t break but they do make a small cacophony of noise as the tumble onto the tiled floor.

They guy really glares at him then but before he can say anything else the door to the back swings open and Linc steps out. He takes one look at the cups on the floor, then at Prompto pressed back away from the counter and turns to the customer.

“You ordering?” Linc asks gruffly.

Prompto watches something in the guys jaw tick and then he sakes his head.

“Then get the fuck out of my store.”

Prompto blinks in surprise. The customer bristles.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” he snaps.

“And you can’t do whatever the fuck you just did to my staff,” Linc says, “Get out.”

The guy shoots one last glare at Prompto and then turns tail and stumbles from the store into the waiting circle of his friends. The group makes a lot of noise as the door swings closed but they move off quickly, disappearing into the night.

Prompto doesn’t really know what to do or say so he stoops down to retrieve the cups and then tosses them in the sink they have by the servers station.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling a little awkward. Prompto had always kind of assumed that Linc would just throw any and all of them to the wolves if it meant he could make an extra sale. But apparently even Linc has lines that he won’t have crossed.

Linc shrugs and tells him, “Flip the sign at eleven forty-five. We can be out by twelve.”

Then he disappears again.

Prompto quickly updates his taxi reservation and then turns to wash up the cups before another customer arrives.

Briefly he considers telling Noct or Gladio about what happens but decides it’ll cause more worry than it really deserves.

-

[Gladio 23:57] Let me know when you’re finished/home please? <3

[Prompto 00:03] in the taxi!

[Prompto 00:04] party finished?

[Gladio 00:04] How was work?

[Gladio 00:05] Just having a last night cap with the people that matter.

[Gladio 00:06] And kind of Noct I guess.

[Gladio 00:06] [Image 01684.jpg]

Gladio sends him a shot of an unfamiliar couch, Nyx and Iggy sat close together, Nyx’s arm all soft around Iggy’s shoulders but they’re embrace somewhat ruined by Noct curled up on the other end of the couch with his legs kicked haphazardly over their laps. Prompto wonders when exactly he lost his shoes.

Prompto can just make out Clarus and the King stood behind the couch talking, Iris tucked up under Clarus' arm looking most of the way asleep already.

[Prompto 00:07] work was mostly uneventful but THAT is a lot of blackmail in one picture

[Gladio 00:08] Oh I am making several back ups and copies of this gem.

[Prompto 00:09] i might hang it on my wall (｡♥‿♥｡)

- - -

Gladio has work the whole day after Solstice and Prompto is completely free which is annoying but something they’re going to have to learn to deal with Prompto supposes. Gladio’s job - Noct - will always come first and that’s not a thing Prompto can be mad about when he too holds that very thing right near the top of his priorities.

The very top of his priorities is becoming a weird mesh of people and things that Prompto never expected.

Prompto lazes the morning away, eating a truly awful mushy, microwave burrito for lunch before deciding to finally tackle the three days of dishes he’d let pile up by his sink because a burrito can be eaten off a paper towel but not a lot of other things can.

He’s up to his elbows in soap studs when there’s a knock on his door.

Prompto’s only a little surprised – and proud - when he manages to get his door open without dripping water everywhere revealing Ignis.

Ignis had let him know he’d be popping round today but his message had been fairly vague to the point where he’d been expecting the adviser to turn up on his way home from work, exhausted from putting out a million little fires that Noct had inadvertently set.

“Hey Iggy,” Prompto greets warmly, pulling the door open wider with his foot and stepping back to let Ignis in. Prompto’s kind of way past being embarrassed by his dinky apartment by now.

They all know what his situation is and they've not judged him for it yet.

Though Ignis probably wouldn't have bought a more affluent friend a mattress topper he supposes.

Ignis follows him inside, dragging behind a truly monstrous cooler that has wheels and parks it by the edge of Prompto’s counters before stepping back to close the door and toe out of his shoes.

“Um,” Prompto says staring at the cooler dumbfounded.

“I hope your freezer isn’t full,” Ignis teases.

It certainly is not, Prompto thinks. He doesn’t have the funds to keep anything more than a weeks worth of food at a time. He only has half a bag of frozen peas and a few of those burritos left. He kind of can't wait to see what Ignis says when he sees them.

Prompto half laughs.

“You want some tea?” Prompto offers.

Ignis glances at Prompto’s still wet hands and his sink filled with soapy water and says, “I’ll do it shall I?”

Prompto has the good sense to blush just a little.

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Ignis assures, quickly filling the kettle before moving aside so Prompto can get back on with his cleaning. He rattles around for a moment pulling out his preferred tea bags and Prompto’s teapot - which means Ignis has time to stay for a chat too which is nice. Prompto won’t ever admit it but he’s been just a little lonely the last couple days with everyone so busy.

“How are things at the Citadel?” Prompto asks as he tries to scrub off a particularly stubborn bit of dried on food.

“Oddly quiet right now which unfortunately - for me - means people are trying to slip things past senior administration or tack them on to otherwise inconsequential bills and such,” Ignis explains with a bit of a sigh, “None of them are successful of course, his majesty is too attentive for that but its a pain nonetheless.”

“What kind of bill?” Prompto ask.

“Tax breaks for the already wealthy, that kind of thing. Nothing to benefit anyone that actually needs help,” Ignis says.

Prompto frowns and mutters, “Gross.”

“Indeed,” Ignis says.

Prompto finishes up just as Ignis is pouring tea into two of Prompto’s cups and he dries his hands on his cleanest dish towel before gratefully taking the warm mug. He eyes the cooler again.

“That’s not full is it?” Prompto asks.

Ignis laughs, “No. Don’t fret, it was just the simplest way to carry it all.”

Together they unpack the containers of food, Ignis explaining what is full meals - the ones with heating instructions written in Ignis’ neat hand on top - and some others that are just leftover meat and stuff that Prompto can use for his own meals.

Ignis' mouth is the thinnest, flattest line when he spies Prompto's stash of junk. Prompto smiles as innocently as he can.

Honestly it’s a little overwhelming but when he tries to tell Ignis he doesn’t need it and that maybe it could go somewhere else Ignis tries to assure him that he deserves it and no one else is going to go without so he can have a few luxurious meals. Noct might not have ladled soup on Solstice Eve but apparently he made sure all the shelters still had soup to ladle.

Ignis stacks the last of the containers into Prompto’s freezer and then swings the door closed. Prompto fishes the last item from inside the cooler and straightens up with a sort of lidded jug containing a dark brown liquid.

“Gravy,” Ignis says, “Should be enough for two meals. And I’ll make you some suitable for the freezer when I get some time this week.”

“Ah man, thanks Iggy,” Prompto says softly, feeling a little overwhelmed again.

Ignis takes the gravy from him and tucks it into Prompto’s fridge alongside the dinner he set aside for tonight - and a small peanut butter tart holy shit - and as he comes back round to the counter he reaches to brush over Prompto’s hair and the brief touch settles some of the uneasy feeling in Prompto’s gut.

“Are you seeing Gladio soon?” Ignis asks a little smirk curling his mouth, “His mood has rather diminished since he last saw you.”

Prompto flushes happily this time and buries his own smile in a sip of tea.

“Tomorrow,” Prompto says, “I’m going over to his after work. I wanted him to come over tonight but he won’t because he’s doing some horrendous early shift tomorrow.”

Ignis laughs, “He took on some extra duties to let other people spend the holidays with their young families I believe,” Ignis explains, “He made the arrangements before things with you were settled. Of course.”

“Same,” Prompto says, “I took a tonne of extra shifts during the break so I’d have a buffer of money before school starts up. Not sure it’s worth it now.”

Ignis sort of rolls his eyes but reaches for the tea pot to refill both their cups.

- - -

Prompto doesn’t have nightmares that often any more. And when he does he likes to just get up and carry on like nothing happened - they’re not worth dwelling on, they’re not important. Life isn’t like that any more.

The problem now is that if he wakes violently enough he wakes Gladio too.

“Hey, hey,” Gladio says, hands petting across his torso a little frantically, trying to roll him, Prompto thinks, “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Prompto takes in a few deep shuddering breaths and blinks rapidly to clear his vision. The room is dark though and it takes Prompto a moment to take stock of what he can feel instead - Gladio’s body against his own, skin to skin and warm sheets against his back, soft pillow underneath his head.

The dream is only vague in his mind. He remembers being small and cold and then there being a sharp bite of pain before it was dark. Just so dark.

Prompto doesn’t remember a whole lot of his life in the facility, certainly not eight years worth of memories and now all he gets are these vague flashes of misery and pain.

“Prom,” Gladio urges softly and Prompto lets himself go lax, relaxes the way all his limbs are rigid and defensive.

Gladio finally manages to roll Prompto in towards him, cradling Prompto’s body against his broad chest.

Prompto feels small all over again but he’s also warm and safe so he reacts to it immediately, trying to get his arms around Gladio and cling on tight. If Gladio minds the way Prompto’s wristband bumps up against his chest he doesn’t say anything about it.

Gladio strokes down his spine in a way that is ridiculously comforting and grounding. Prompto sighs, finally getting his head tucked under Gladio’s chin so he’s covered and enclosed as much as possible. They’re both naked and Prompto remembers lying back after their coupling and letting Gladio clean him up with a warm cloth from his bathroom, too boneless - and maybe a little sore - to face a shower before morning.

At home he might just wrench himself out of bed now and force himself to do something productive so he can pretend the first years of his life had never happened.

“You wanna talk about it?” Gladio mumbles, still rubbing his back.