Chapter Text
What is it like to have freedom? What is freedom in the first place? Are people who have all the money in the world considered free, or are they merely being a puppet to the object they have in abundance? Do free people always have the chance to do whatever they want?
No one in this world can truly be free, at least that's what Noctis thought. Everyone in this world is a slave to something, be it material wealth, power or even to those whom you love. Everyone is just a bird locked in this giant cage called life, deluding ourselves to the concept of freedom.
He sighed and closed his eyes, wanting to get at least forty winks before his wedding tomorrow. Wedding. What a funny word. He had never extensively imagined what his own wedding would be like, mainly because they were fighting a large scale war before this. Everyday could have been their last, so there wasn't time to be thinking of frills, vows, flowers and rings. Being betrothed to Luna was not his choice, but he cannot say that he doesn't love her.
Of course he loves her. She is his friend, one who was there during his childhood. She read him books, showed him how to make pressed flowers. She taught him about the joys of poetry and made him delicious treats from Tenebrae (Ignis bakes better but he won't say it lest he hurts her feelings). Most of all, Luna was the one who accompanied him whenever his father wasn't there. His father who was king, always busy with some other politician or new decree, always putting the people first. Because that is the job of a ruler. To place the needs of his people above his own.
Noctis yawns loudly, catching the attention of his friends who are seated around him in a semi-circle. They were all in a high class club, one which was mainly reserved for the rich and famous. Ignis, bless his soul, had dragged all of them there with a giant, comical frown plastered on his face, dumping them into the limo and mentioning something along the lines of “We are going to have a stag party where no one throws themselves out of the window or pukes in my lap on the way home.” to which both Gladio and Prompto whined about. Ignis however was not to be deterred as he gave them 'The Look', which immediately brought silence into the confines of the car.
“Tired, your highness?” questioned the bespectacled man as he made a move to put down his martini and bundle them all home. Noctis shook his head groggily. Gladio on the other hand, was fully enjoying himself to the copious amounts of alcohol they served whilst running his gaze over several pieces of fine eye candy. He whistled at a pretty lady, which earned him an frosty glare from Ignis and a kick underneath the low table. As the two lowly bickered about the boundaries of gentlemanly etiquette (“It's called being polite.” “No, it's called being a stick in the mud.”), Noctis let his own eyes wander to a certain blond seated beside him who was animatedly chatting with the waitress.
Prompto Argentum, one of the only three people he would call his best friend and the only one he will admit that he treasures the most. Sure he was loud and obnoxious most of the time, plus he was clumsy and tended to act like a petulant child. He was also a horrible skirt chaser when he tried, but was unexpectedly like honey to bees when he was casual about it. People either hated or loved his attitude, there was no in between.
But Prompto was also unbelievably kind and caring. He loves animals and would always take care of strays or wounded creatures. He values friendship and is loyal to fault. He is sweet too; he likes surprising Noct and the others on their birthdays and would leave trinkets for them. He is a genius at taking pictures; the subject seems to come to life through his lens, creating a masterpiece. Prompto smiles a lot and laughs a lot, especially when he shows Noctis the pictures in his camera. His overall positive being is something that Noctis had gradually come to love and would do anything to protect. To him, Prompto is like the sun on a cold winter day, bringing joy to the world.
So it is no surprise to anyone really, when Noctis arrives home after school one day, hears his phone beep and smiles like an idiot at the blond's energetic messages. Nor is it weird when he finds himself thinking of the blond every time he sees a picture or a camera; the times he would do so increasing by the day. It is no longer a big deal when Noctis finds himself staring longer into those baby blue eyes, as if they were an ocean and he was a man desperate to drown. He loves the sound of Prompto's laugh, loves the way his eyes twinkle with mischievousness whenever he was up to something, love how his freckles disappear when he blushes. He loves how hard Prompto is trying to make himself a better person, loves that he always finds a way to make him smile, loves that he makes him feel human. Not a prince, not a king, not a mere figurehead on a throne. Prompto makes him feel like a living, breathing human. A small pulsing existence floating in this world.
It is something that no one, not even Luna had succeeded in doing. He loves Luna, but he doesn't love her. But he loves Prompto, does not only love him as an acquaintance. And that was how he had found himself to be utterly, completely smitten with his best friend. The fact somehow not mind-blowingly shocking; rather it was a warm thought which settled into the pit of his stomach. That is, until his royal duties push themselves to the forefront of his mind, reminding him once again what him being alive means to his people.
He is the future king. He has to protect his country, and to do so he needs an heir, someone to continue the royal bloodline. It was impossible for him to leave the throne empty after he passed, his people later fighting over who should rightfully be crowned the ruler. A civil war my ensue which will again cost the innocent lives of thousands. No matter how much he wants to marry another; someone who was blond, male, his best friend, and out of the selfishness of his own heart, he cannot bear to do it. He promised, he had promised his father that he would take it from here.
Besides, it's not like Prompto liked him in that way... He doesn't even know if the blond batted for their team, considering all the girls he has been around. The thought of Prompto, his Prompto being intimate with others sends a burning flame of jealousy licking at his insides, clenching his heart in a tight grip. It wasn't as if Prom was truly his though.
He leans into the cushions of the seat, allowing his head to dangle upside down from it. The club was noisy, there were too many people around with too many colourful strobe lights flashing. He felt a headache coming on and was mildly shocked to find cold fingers touching his forehead. A concerned profile came into view, brows creased and lips twisted in a grimace. “You okay Noct? Do you need a break?” Oh Etro, how Noctis wished he could listen to that voice forever. He had half a mind to close his own hand over Prompto's and drag him in for a deep kiss, refusing to let go amidst the stares of their impromptu audience. If this was his dreamland, doing so would not be a problem at all.
This unfortunately was reality, where dreams remained mere fantasies. Instead, he propped himself up onto his elbows and smiled lightly at the blond. Prompto was an easy worrier, something which he must have inherited from their mother hen with glasses. “M' fine Prom. Thanks.” His head was buzzing pleasantly from the alcohol, numbing some of the heartache he felt whenever he laid eyes upon the blond. He couldn't have him, so he would just have to learn how to bottle up his feelings inside. The blond sent him a sceptical look, suddenly ignoring the waitress he had been chatting up the whole evening. “Come on buddy,” he looped an arm around the raven's shoulders, pushing him off the couch. “You need some air.” He feels rather than hears Prompto telling Ignis and Gladio about their little break, can pick up the words reverberating through the blond's body as he is pressed close to his chest for support.
He was floating, and Prompto was his anchor. The two made their way through the warm mass of bodies gyrating on the dance floor, shouting “Excuse me”s and “Make way”s through the din. When they threw open the glass doors of the balcony, cold air whipped at their faces, instantly waking the prince up. Hastily, the blond kicks the doors close again and leans his friend against the railing. “Hey Noct, would you look at that?” The raven follows to where the blond points, amazed at the sight of the city lights twinkling beneath them, like stars in the dark velvet sky. From their perch, they could spy the royal castle, a looming presence which brought comfort to those who saw it. Below, cars honked, motorcycles zoomed past and tiny ants made their way around the corners. “Beautiful ain't it?” asks the blond with a certain sparkle in his eyes. For a moment Noctis finds himself in dire need of water for his parched throat, because Wow he looks beautiful. The raven swallows, unable to tear his gaze away from the blond's face, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.
“Should've brought my camera along...” The gunner digs in his pockets absentmindedly, thinking perhaps his camera would miraculously appear. Prompto feels the hairs on his neck stand up involuntarily, turns his head to look at his best friend and is taken aback by the intense gaze the other is sending him. He knows that he blushes, “Er... Noct? You feeling better?” His voice does not sound like his own, instead it is scratchy. The raven snaps at his name, clears his throat awkwardly and averts his gaze to the city lights flashing below them. “Yea-.. Mm-hmm, yeah I'm good.” he mutters, feeling the heat crawl to his neck. He covers his mouth with his hand, willing the impulse of hugging the blond tightly to go away. Prompto inclines his head, silently looks in the other direction.
What was he doing? He had already made up his mind to marry Luna hadn't he? He had a duty to his people, a duty to his country. He had to place the needs of his people first.
The raven takes a chance to glance at the other, the backs of his ears glowing a faint pink. For a brief moment he allows his fantasies to play in his mind, of hugging Prompto, of them sliding their lips against one another, of spending the night in his bed and of waking up in the morning together. Watching the other's sleeping face and having the feeling of contentment bubbling up in his chest before giving him a morning kiss, safe in the knowledge that he could spend all his waking minutes with the one he truly loves. Noctis sighs quietly through his nostrils. Whatever is formed in his head, stays in there. He has not a single opportunity to make his wishes come true, and the reality was a harsh punch in his gut.
Even now, with his face turned away from him, Noctis could not help but appreciate how utterly beautiful he is. He wanted to card his fingers through those blond locks, wanted to trail a finger down his chin and run his hands up and down his arms. But your wedding... your obligation... He drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the railing, dull thumps which flew as fast as his heartbeats.
“Noct,... can I ask you something?” voices Prompto out of the blue, pulling the soon to be king from the depths of his own mind. “Yeah, what is it Prom?” he inquires in a relaxed tone, not fully there yet. He hears the blond swallow audibly, but no reply was given. After a few moments of tense silence, Noctis stops his drumming and glances at his friend. “Prom, what is it... Oh...” His eyes go wide and his pulse quickens even further, yet a rock felt like it had been dropped in his body, a concoction of thrill and dread swirling in his veins. Prompto was giving him the most bittersweet smile, lips twisted upwards but eyes reflecting anguish. “It's nothing Noct, forget it.” and he has the gall to grin at him like nothing was troubling at all even though he wore his heart on his sleeve.
Noctis does not know whether to slap him for being such a secretive best friend or kiss him silly so that he will smile for real, not this fake one which sends sharp pangs through his own heart. So he opts for the safest choice, and entwines his own strong arms around his best friend's torso in a fierce hug. Prompto is taken by surprise, feels his own chest constricting painfully at the small act and his blush forming at full force. He places his hands on the other's chest and tries to push him away, because he was too close, the comfort of being in his arms too real. “Noct, wh-...” he starts but is shushed immediately by the prince, the head of dark hair burying itself into the crook of his neck. The blond puts a little more force in his hands this time; so does the raven who hugs him tighter. “Noct, this is ridiculous,” Prompto tries to reason. “What would people think if they saw this scene, of the prince to be wedded tomorrow locked in a tight embrace with another man?”
“Prom, do me a favour and shut up,” Noctis whispers lowly into his ear, sending a bolt of electricity to shoot down his spine. The blond hesitates before slowly relaxing his hands, this time his fingers identifying the unsteady rhythms beating in the foreign chest cavity. Noctis runs his hands up and down his back, gently soothing the tense shoulders, careful not to overstep any boundaries. The raven repeats his movements until the knots in the other's back loosens, hands limp at either side. He gives a few more rubs across the blond's shoulders before slightly pulling back, linked arms still around his torso. “Better?” he questions softly, surprised at how tender his own voice sounded. He makes a quick note not to be too obvious in showing his affection. Prompto may run for the hills when he finds out just how deep said affection runs. The blond nods, face a pretty pink, golden bangs illuminated in the moonlight, soft lips parted slightly. His heart skips a painful beat, knowing that something so close to him was so unattainable.
Prompto shifts uneasily in his hold, trying his best to hide his face. “Noct, you can let go now you know.” Of course Prompto would feel uncomfortable about this, he was practically trapping his poor friend. However, he was not a prince if he did not try to get his way every time. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Wanna tell me anything?” He cocks an eyebrow and waits for an answer. Prompto parts his lips, closes them and shakes his head solemnly. “It's nothing Noct. Honest, it can wait.” Noctis resists the urge to hug him again, fights the strong instinct to defeat anything which plagued Prompto's mind, even if that meant ripping a few heads off. His linked hands clench behind the blond's back, a certain possessive streak not fully buried. “You sure?” he asks again, icy eyes searching on the other's profile. An incline of the head, another fake grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
Reluctantly, Noctis lets go. He resumes his original position of playing it aloof on the railing, a hand supporting his chin while the other drummed relentlessly. He felt empty, a hollow space gnawing at his insides where Prompto had been a few moments ago. The cold night air threatened to whisk away all the body heat they had shared, so Noctis pulls his jacket closer. “As long as you tell me okay Prom?” The smile he receives this time is genuine, so bright that it filled his chest once again. “Haha, of course I will! Unless you fall asleep when I'm here reciting my brilliantly laid out story, like what you usually do in the cinemas.” The raven nudges him lovingly with an elbow, ravishing in the laughter that comes along with it.
No one truly has freedom; freedom is not something which can be easily attained. No matter how much we spread our wings, there will always be something tying us down. Everyone is trapped in this cage called “freedom”. For him, for Prompto too. That's why, if Prompto is the sky, then he shall be the only being trapped in it. I won't go anywhere, so please don't go anywhere either. He will protect him with all his might, he will risk everything if need be. Having to protect Prompto from the cover of the shadows, he's more than happy to give up his freedom, he's okay with that.
In this sky called “You” ,
I don't need wings to fly anymore.