Chapter Text
“You know, you’re not so scary once you get to know ya.”
Ignis looked up from his phone to level his gaze on Prompto who had taken the liberty of relieving the entirety of his weight into the Coleman chair in one solid, hearty flop.
“I’m unsure as to whether or not that’s meant to be a compliment.” He locked his phone, placing his attention instead on the young man with his fingers locked behind his head, a shrug and a care-free smile making Ignis fond. Prompto was a fairly recent acquisition in Noctis’s life that Ignis didn’t take very seriously at the start. The boy had a proclivity for ineptitude.
“Ehh. You know.”
Ignis gave a soft chuckle and sat back, crossing his legs, waiting for Prompto to continue. “I do not,” he pressed.
“It’s just. You’re so serious. Never thought we’d end up friends like this.”
Ignis raised a sharp brow, watching Prompto with a mockery of skepticism. “Friends like what?” he teased, but Prompto laughed it off well enough, kicking his feet up onto the seat in front of him.
Noctis’s grunting as he thrust his lance at Gladio sobered the both of them briefly. Beside the two of them lounging at the haven, Noctis was letting his steam out on Gladio in the sand. Ignis glanced over to watch him warp strike the taller man and he pursed his lips, listening to Prompto.
“When we first started hanging out,” he began, less air and ease in his voice than before. It struck a chord in Ignis’s chest, and he let out a slow breath. There was no forgetting the death of the king, even in pleasant company. “You didn’t exactly like me.”
“I didn’t know you, Prompto,” Ignis said, a little surprised by the notion. He hadn’t disliked Prompto; he had just assumed his presence would be transient at best. Prompto gave a half-hearted grin and rubbed the back of his head, letting his feet fall back down to the ground. Ignis looked down at his near-empty can of Ebony and frowned. When he looked up again, Prompto was holding his camera pointed directly at him.
When the camera lowered again, Ignis said, “Well. Dinner should be ready. Help me serve it?”
Ignis wasn’t always the first to rise. In fact, he was almost always second to Gladio. It was a bit unusual, however, to see two empty sleeping bags before he even put his glasseson. Noctis likely would be sleeping a long time; he had been tossing and turning all night. Something in his dreams getting the better of him, perhaps. With the enormous weight he now had on his chest, restless sleep was no surprise.
Best to make him a hearty breakfast, he decided as he threw on his grey undershirt and stepped out of the tent.
Prompto was standing by the shore, looking out at the sea with his camera hanging listlessly at his side. It was unusually pensive, Ignis thought, but the boy did have an eye for art. Ignis knew that had to have a kind of thoughtfulness that he himself would never understand. Even yet, the stillness claimed by Prompto in that moment startled him. He stilled his own self, eyes locked on the slender form wondering what kinds of thoughts effected him as such.
His camera likely held some beautiful photos of the sunrise over the Quay.
No matter.
It was time to prepare a meal, and thus it was time to surrender to work. He grabbed a couple of birdbeast eggs and some gighee ham, seasoning the meat after setting the pan on the heat.
While he worked, Gladiolus returned to the haven a sweaty mess, rubbing his head with a towel as he walked over to the sizzling skillet.
“Smells good.”
“You look like you worked up an appetite,” Ignis said as he flipped the toast, perfectly golden brown if he did say so himself. He leaned against the tabletop and looked up at Gladio, out of the corner of his eye catching Prompto with his camera out. He gave a small smile without meaning to and placed his other hand on his hip, raising a brow as he rounded his gaze on the blonde.
“I may begin to charge a modeling fee,” he said as Prompto snapped another shot.
“Nah, you’re lucky I’m not already charging you,” Prompto teased back, which made Gladio bark a laugh.
Breakfast seemed to cook much more quickly once he was in good company again, with Prompto flopping into a chair while Gladio stood around waiting for his portion. Once Noctis woke up, however, the three of them fell quiet. Ignis couldn’t help but feel a minutia of guilt over enjoying himself when the weight of their reality was quite heavy indeed.
Once he began plating the food, Prompto rushed to his feet, taking two of the plates to pass to Noctis and Gladio.
“Thank you, Prompto,” he said quietly as he handed him his own serving.
“Not a problem,” he replied, and for a very brief moment, Prompto flashed him what looked like a soulless smile – it was sad, hollow and distant, his eyes vacant and his posture stiff. It was gone the instant he returned his attention to Noctis, and Ignis couldn’t help but ask about it later while Noctis passed the time fishing and Gladio stayed close to the dock.
Ignis approached Prompto lying in the sand, eyes up at the sky. He stood over him and tilted his head, wondering which version of Prompto he would find here – the pensive one, or the friendly one. Prompto’s hands went to his camera on his chest, and he pointed the camera up at Ignis, smirking.
Ignis smiled back and placed his hands on his hips.
“You mentioned our friendship the other day,” he said.
“Do I need to take it back?” Prompto asked, and the cheeky question made Ignis chuckle.
“No,” he said as he settled himself onto the sandy ground beside Prompto. “I just wanted to reiterate that in fact I rather like you, Prompto.” He sat cross-legged and placed his hands on his knees, looking out at the sea wondering how on earth they were going to get to Altissia now; as helpful as Dino promised to be, Ignis doubted he’d be able to follow through.
“Yeah?” Prompto sat up and bumped his shoulder against Ignis’s. “That mean you’re kinda nice under your calm, cool façade?”
“No,” Ignis said again, leaning back against the pressure from Prompto. His shoulder was warm, and the affectionate gesture was oddly soothing. “I am definitely not nice. I am, however, willing to listen if something’s bothering you.”
Ignis did not regret his words, but he did regret the sudden stiffness in Prompto’s shoulders and the absence of contact that followed. After a moment of silence, he sighed, cast his eyes down, then considered his words carefully as he added, “Or I can simply offer you pleasant company,” which was somewhere Ignis often found comfort.
And it apparently applied to Prompto as well. Even though the contact did not return, Prompto let out a small laugh and a quiet, “Thanks,” before laying back down.
It seemed like a bigger sadness beyond sympathy for his friend’s loss, but Ignis decided not to pry tonight.