Chapter Text
Ignis’ brow twitched in a combination of annoyance and confusion. For three days now, Prompto refused to meet his eye. On the occasion where their eyes did happen to meet, the younger man would quickly turn away. At first, he would blush when he did so, and Ignis merely thought he was being shy. But then the blushing stopped and he just seemed…sad.
Many times over the past seventy-two hours he tried to pull Prompto aside, ask him what was wrong. Many times the blond snubbed him.
Ignis sighed. He was used to dealing with mood swings and rejection from Noctis, but never had he received such treatment from their energetic companion. He wondered briefly if he had done something to upset their relationship. It already felt tenuous, which he detested, yet he could think of nothing to move things forward without scaring Prompto off.
Had he come on too strong? Had he already driven Prompto away by telling him how much he adored the marks adorning his belly? He wished he knew what was going on in that little blond head.
Lowering his eyes, he returned to mending the hole in Gladio’s shirt.
“You got a leak, Iggy? Sure are sighing a lot,” the big man teased, plopping a meaty hand on his shoulder.
“Perhaps I would sigh less if I didn’t have to repair gaping holes in your clothing so often,” Ignis replied without lifting his head.
With a snort, Gladio lowered himself onto the cooler next to Ignis’ chair. “Maybe tell the daemons to get their claws trimmed once in a while.”
“I’ll do that next time we’re in the middle of a scuffle,” Ignis chuckled. Sighing again, he put his sewing down and readjusted his glasses.
Gladio quirked a brow, following Ignis’ line of sight. “Does this have anything to do with a certain feisty little blond?”
Propping an elbow on his knee, Ignis put his chin in his hand. “Am I really so transparent?”
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d just come out and admit it.”
Ignis gave Gladio a sidelong glance. “Why deny it if you already know?”
The man’s shoulders leaped in a shrug. “Good point. So what’s the problem? I thought things were going well.”
“Unfortunately, I believed the same. My mistake.” Removing his glasses, Ignis closed his eyes for a moment. Feeling a dry, warm hand on his forehead, he opened them again. Blinking, he turned toward his friend.
“Thought you might be sick. I’ve never heard such defeat in your voice,” Gladio explained, letting his hand fall back into his lap.
“Oh, I didn’t realize—”
“Ignis.”
“Yes?”
“Talk to me.”
“What have I been doing until now? Miming?”
Groaning, Gladio dragged his hands through his unruly hair. “C’mon, Iggy. We all gotta have someone to talk to. You never talk to anyone. Won’t kill you to be human once in a while.”
“So says the man who can only seem to communicate through violence and shouting.” Crossing one leg over the other, Ignis sat up straight and shook his head.
“Really? That’s what you think of me? Well, then you can sort your own shit out.”
Ignis had to force himself not to grab Gladio’s shirt as he stood. “Wait.”
Gladio remained still.
“I apologize. That was uncalled for.”
“You’re damn right it was.”
Ignis flinched before breathing out another sigh. Putting his glasses back on, he looked across the fire pit to where Prompto and Noctis were completely absorbed in their own conversation. “Has His Highness mentioned anything to you?”
Gladio sat back down, folding his arms over his chest. “No. Why would he have?”
Ignis chuckled, shaking his head and staring vacantly at the tattoo covering Gladio’s shoulders and creeping down his arms. “I would have thought you do more than break furniture when you’re alone together.”
“That was one time, I paid for it, and you aren’t supposed to know.”
“About the table? Or your relationship with Noctis?”
Gladio scowled. “Both.”
“His choice?”
Gladio nodded.
“I’ll continue to pretend I know nothing.”
“Thanks.”
The men fell silent, listening to the crackle of the fire and hushed whispers of their younger companions. There wasn’t so much as a hint of a breeze this evening, but it was thankfully cool after the scorching temperatures of the day.
“So, what’s the problem?” Gladio asked again, tilting his head to look at Ignis’ profile.
Yet another sigh escaped Ignis. “I wish I knew.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t recall doing anything specific. I believed things were progressing nicely until it just…stopped. He won’t let me touch him, barely allows me to acknowledge him. It is…upsetting, to say the least,” Ignis admitted, dropping his gaze to a patch of stone at his feet.
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“Of course I tried, Gladio!”
Raising his brows at the irritation in the man’s voice, Gladio glanced across the fire. Sure enough, Ignis’ outburst caught the attention of Noctis and Prompto. Noct merely wore a blank expression, underlined with a hint of curiosity, while Prompto’s brows were furrowed, drawn together by the clear guilt in his eyes. Something worth investigating.
Ignis cleared his throat and moved his sewing project from his lap to his work table. Brows twitching behind his glasses, he got to his feet. “My apologies. Please, excuse me for a moment.” The man almost bowed, suddenly stiff and awkward. He huffed a sharp breath through his nose and left the group.
Noctis was already focused on his phone screen again, but Prompto watched Ignis go. His eyebrows quivered, he held his bottom lip between his teeth, and he balled his hands into fists in his lap.
“What was that about?” Noctis asked when Gladio joined them by the fire.
“A nasty rip in my shirt,” he replied, lowering himself into the empty chair next to Noctis.
“You’re a bad liar, y’know?” Shutting off his phone display, Noct turned his attention to the big man.
Shrugging, he turned his gaze to Prompto. The blond shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush. Go after him.”
With a nervous chuckle, Prompto scratched his cheek. “Uh. I’d rather not?”
“Why?”
“What if he went to pee?”
Noctis and Gladio stared at him with matching expressions of incredulity.
“I just don’t want to, okay?”
“Prompto.”
“Drop it!”
Much like he had done with Ignis, Gladio raised his eyebrows at Prompto. Like Ignis, Prompto didn’t usually raise his voice in anger.
“Please…” The heat left his voice as he sank low in his chair. He pulled his legs up, crossing them and holding onto his ankles.
Gladio looked to Noctis, who gave a small shake of his head. Slouching, Gladio shook his head. He was hoping he could get the pair to sort out whatever he had been going on so everything could go back to normal. He was tired of the awkward atmosphere. He and Noct managed to get this far without causing an uproar. Apparently, that wasn’t going to cut it with these two.
“Whatever. Just fix this before something goes really wrong,” Gladio grumbled with a sigh. “I’m turning in.”
“Night.” Noct watched the man get to his feet and kick his boots off before heading into the tent. When he turned his attention back to Prompto, a spike of panic jolted him upright. Tears glittered in the man’s eyes and he tried to hide his face, but the glow of the fire made his wet eyes more obvious.
Noctis leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows on his knees. “Prompto, if it’s that bad, just go talk to him.”
He shook his head.
“Dude, why not?”
“I just…I just can’t, okay? Please, Noct. I really don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Keeping his gaze downcast, he swiped at the building tears and inhaled deeply.
“Okay,” Noct conceded. “Okay. But…don’t let this, whatever it is, eat away at you.”
Prompto dipped his head in a tiny nod. “I won’t.”