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The little bait and tackle shop near the docks they spent all morning at sells products other than lures. It's probably the largest fishing shop Prompto's seen since they've begun their road trip, sporting all sorts of goods, and not just those angling related. There's potions and hunting goods, snacks and clothing. Ignis and Gladio are occupied at one end, stocking up on snacks and other provisions, and Noctis and Prompto take to the corner dedicated to less useful items: novelty wear. While Prompto considers who would buy a lure in the shape of a penis, or one that says ‘Size Queen’, Noctis peers from around an aisle clutching a stack of shirts on hangers.
“Psst, Prompto,” he whispers, eyes darting to and fro, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards in mischief.
He motions Prompto over, so he immediately abandons the weird lures and joins him behind the aisle, out of view of the others.
Noctis holds up a shirt. “What do you think of this?”
It's a black t-shirt, with the phrase ‘sex is great, but fishing lasts all day’, emblazoned on it and a picture of a flailing hooked fish sandwiched horizontally between the words ‘sex’ and ‘fish’. Prompto lets out an audible chuckle. Funny, but no way Iggy would let him get it. He says as much.
Noctis frowns, but looks determined. “Yeah, well, he's not the boss of my outfits.”
“Um, isn't he?” Prompto asks. Pretty sure as his advisor, Ignis has a say in what Noctis wears. Hell, Ignis has a say in what Prompto wears.
Noctis switches to the next shirt, tucking the potential one to the back of the stack.
‘Jerk it til she swallows. It's a fishing thing, you wouldn't understand’
Once again, a caught fish illustrates the point. Prompto chuckles again, feeling his face heat up. “Ehh, the other one was funnier. This is just raunchy.”
Noctis regards the shirt, squinting slightly and pursing his lips. He hums, apparently in agreement, then moves on to the next shirt.
‘Master Baiter’
Prompto lifts his brows. “I dunno, dude, do you wanna tell everyone you spend too much time with your hand?” He grins. “Actually, yeah. Yeah. That's kinda funny when I think about it.”
“Oh, right,” Noctis says, expression falling. “But Iggy might be okay with it? He likes puns.”
“Yeah but clever puns.”
Noctis rolls his eyes. “Okay okay, next one.”
‘Born to fish, forced to work’
“Nahhh,” Prompto vetos. “Accurate? Hmm depends on what you define as ‘work’. But funny? Not really.”
‘MILF Man I Love Fishing’
“Okay, absolutely yes,” Prompto says, only because he feels he's been too negative, and they both are fans of MILFs. It’s also not outright racy like some of the other ones. Really, who could object? Iggy and Gladio probably like MILFs too.
‘I say morning, cuz if it was a *good* morning I'd be fishing’
“Haha, that one is so you, dude! You have to get that one for sure.”
Noctis grins, teeth and all, before slinking off with his stash of shirts. Prompto sees him going back to the shirt racks, so he assumes he’s keeping the last one and maybe the MILF one but returning the rest. Prompto joins Ignis and Gladio, and when they go to the register to pay Noctis has safely slipped away with his purchases.
The three of them wait in the car, Iggy sipping from a can of Ebony, Gladio beginning to read his novel again, and Prompto drumming his fingers on the tops of his thighs. He assumes Noctis is pinching off a loaf, but when he emerges from the nearby washroom holding a store bag and wearing a brand new shirt, he realizes Noctis, in his excitement, has decided to change right then and there. He walks calmly to the Regalia, pausing once he sees Ignis' expression.
“No.” Ignis’ face is flint. “Absolutely not.”
Noctis shrugs. “What?”
Ignis sighs like he's dealing with an overgrown toddler who just been given the privilege of picking their own outfits and consistently picks out the wrong clothes.
“Change back into your fatigues, please,” he says calmly.
“Nuh-uh,” Noctis answers like a toddler, crossing his arms over his chest. The action obscures the bottom portion of the lettering, so that only the ‘Sex is great’ and the picture of the flailing fish are visible. It gives the impression that the sex is being had with the fish, and well – Prompto wouldn’t put it past Noctis. Not entirely. He loves his best bud but he also has a very peculiar relationship with fishing. Some may even call it an addiction (Prompto. Prompto calls it that).
“Noct, I–” Ignis removes his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose, and rubs his eyes. He’s going to crack open another can of Ebony over this, Prompto can tell. Ignis also has an addiction, but to cold brew in a can – all in all way less creepy and smelly.
Ignis continues, drawing out his words with the patience of a parent explaining to their small child why they cannot wear their winter coat in the middle of summer. “You are the future king of Lucis. You cannot be seen wearing such vulgar clothes. Now, please change back.”
“This isn't even the worst one,” Noct says like it makes it better. “Tell him, Prompto.”
Prompto widens his eyes at Noctis, trying to silently communicate this great betrayal and how so not cool he's being. But Noctis doesn’t notice. Probably too busy planning what he’s going to wear with the other shirts. “Yeah, I talked him out of way worse ones, Iggy.” He addresses Noct. “Like the ‘Born to fish’ one? It wasn’t even funny, dude.”
“Still bought it, though,” Noctis mumbles.
Ignis' gapes, mouth flapping open (fittingly) like a fish. He turns to glare daggers at Prompto, his ire at their stupidity so palpable Prompto shrinks in the backseat. “You knew about this? And you let him?”
“Uh, no. I-I mean I didn't know he actually… bought them...”
“Yeah you did.” Noctis throws him under the bus again, that fish-fucker. “Made direct eye-contact with me and everything.”
“Dude! I thought you were only getting the MILF shirt.”
Prompto crosses his arms and shifts away, hurt. He wasn't going to judge Noctis (much) on his lousy taste in tacky novelty tees. He was willing to overlook Noctis’ weird association between fishing and sex. But this betrayal is too much. Prompto can't see how their friendship can bounce back from this. Maybe if Noctis lets him eat all the Crow’s Nest fries next time, he might consider forgiving him.
But no one else is focused on the greatest betrayal since King Julius Lucis Caelum was stabbed in the back by his concubine’s son, Brutus. Ignis’ face goes slack as he mimics Prompto's words, most scandalized. “MILF?”
“Man I Love Fishing,” Prompto explains hastily, which Noctis ruins again with his dumb mouth.
“It's a play on the acronym for Mom I’d Like to Fuck.”
Ignis shuts his eyes. “Sweet Astrals, Noct. I know what a MILF is.”
Noctis looks at Prompto and shrugs. “Guess he's not into them.”
Bummer. “I really had him pegged as one though.”
Gladio, who hasn't once looked up from his book (he must be at a really riveting part), corrects them. “No, he's more of a coeurl guy.”
Displaying incredible self-restraint, Ignis ignores their speculation. “How much gil did these all cost?” he snaps, redirecting his stony gaze to Noctis.
Noctis shrugs and casually strolls to take his place in the seat behind Ignis. Honestly, Prompto doesn't know how he can ignore Iggy when he's being all scary like this. Repeated exposure must be dulling the sense of threat, or something.
“I dunno, I didn't keep the receipt,” he mumbles quickly, then louder, “I also got one that says master baiter. You like puns, Iggy.”
Iggy sighs and tips his head back to hit the headrest. “You are, indeed, a master at baiting me.”
“Nice one, Igster!” Prompto commends.
“Ha! Told you he likes puns, Prompto.”
“I never said he didn't.”
Gladio chimes in, finally looking up from his book. “You bought a shirt that says you masturbate?”
Prompto just about dies laughing at the face Gladio makes. Then Gladio’s disturbed gaze flickers down to see what Noctis' current shirt says and he exhales noisily in what could pass as a chuckle. “What would you know about sex, kid? Shoulda put on the MILF one.”
“Don't you take their side, Gladio,” Ignis warns, starting up the car.
“Face it, Specs,” Noctis says as they pull onto the road. “This is happening.”
Gladio pokes a finger into the shopping bag and peers inside. “What else ya get?”
He pulls out a hat with two big fishing hooks crossing one another and the words ‘part time hooker'.
“Heh.” Gladio chucks it back inside and pulls out a coffee mug.
‘Don’t be a dumb bass’
“You hardly drink coffee,” says Gladio.
“…It's a gift for Iggy.”
“I can assure you that it was completely unnecessary.” Ignis glances in the rearview mirror at the mug. “It also doesn't look nearly as indestructible as the camp mugs.”
“Yeah but now you won't have to tell me and Prompto to stop being dumb asses. You can just drink from this mug.”
“I cannot safely consume that much coffee,” he says, taking a sip from his can of Ebony.
“But you drink…” Prompto trails off. “Oh, I get it. You're saying we're dumb asses all the time.”
Gladio pulls out the next shirt: ‘I like fishing and *maybe* 3 people’
Prompto gasps. “Are we the 3 people? We are, aren't we!”
The tips of Noctis’ ears turn red.
Gladio drops the shirt back in the bag and pulls out a pair of– underwear? On the backside of the boxer shorts are the words ‘Do these shorts make my bass look big?’ with a big bass right in the middle, of course.
“Seriously why did get so much? This is excessive,” Gladio says as he drops the underwear like it burned him.
Noct shrugs. “Iggy is always saying I need to be more covert. Can't do that if I'm always wearing the same outfit in royal black with the Lucis Caelum skulls on them.”
“I fear you will draw more attention with these gaudy sexual themed shirts than you would wearing all black.”
“Dude I don't think anyone will be looking at your underwear.”
The next shirt says ‘Gotta love a good pole dance' while showing a fish wriggling at the end of a fishing pole.
Gladio sighs. “Ifrit’s steaming balls, Noct, how much did you buy? And why are so many of them sex related?”
“Relax, the shirts were all on discount.” Noctis ignores the second question.
“Oh, that's comforting,” Ignis says, expressionless and monotone.
“I can see why.” Gladio picks out another item. A small shiny keychain with a flat silver fish charm and words engraved on the fish. “You are the greatest catch of my life”, Gladio reads from the charm, arching a brow.
Noctis snatches for it, but Gladio's quicker; he holds it out of reach, letting the hoop dangle from his middle finger over the edge of the car.
“Who's this for?” Gladio teases. “Lady Lunafreya?”
“Aww, Noct,” Prompto coos. He makes kissing faces at his friend, watching him turn his reddening face away.
“Shut up!”
“Noctis. You cannot give Lady Lunafreya a fishing keychain, no matter how well-intentioned the gift may be.”
“Why not? I like fishing, she'll have to get used to that if… we get married.”
Gladio tosses the keychain back in the back. “You give this to her and there won’t be a wedding.”
“Yeah, maybe you should wait until after you tie the knot before springing this on her?” Prompto says. “Though would hiding it be grounds for an annulment?”
“What? Why?”
“I dunno, it's like if you had a really freaky kink you concealed from her. She'd be marrying you under false pretenses. Like if you can only finish if she's dressed in a tuna costume or something.”
“Or you can only get excited after fishing,” Gladio offers.
“Or if you had a gambling addiction, or a large amount of debt,” Prompto supplies.
“Or you're impotent,” Gladio says with a smirk.
Prompto snaps his fingers. “Cuz of the fishing kink!”
“Come now,” Ignis says tranquilly. “Noctis has an unusual… attachment to fishing, but it doesn't render him impotent.” Ignis add quieter. “Not likely, at least.”
“Hey!”
“I think Lady Lunafreya may be more concerned with Your Highness’ problematic spending habits. This shopping spree does not speak well of your impulse control.”
Noctis crosses his arms, slumping down in the seat with a frown. “I was perfectly in control.”
“Then it speaks poorly of your taste,” Ignis modifies.
“I don't care what you guys say. The shirt is staying on, and you'll all be seen with me wearing it whether you like it or not.”
Though Ignis makes him throw his fatigue jacket over it, the sex fish is still within view, wriggling tantalizing, and promising them all untold amounts of secondhand embarrassment. Noct, however, wears it with a triumphant smile, taking great pleasure in their discomfort.