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At some point – Nyx would really want to know when, exactly – it’d become sort of a routine, detouring by Cor’s office on Thursdays, for a drink and a very cathartic two hour rant about the state of his life. Nyx had the weird, awkward realization that this made him friends with Cor the Immortal, and then immediately decided that couldn’t possibly be the case. But that’s where he was, when the call came, sprawled on the couch of Cor’s office – which happened to be exactly as comfortable as he’d once imagined it’d be, and just downright excellent for naps – wondering out loud if Titus really just was the sort of evil mastermind he seemed, while Cor made amused little noises in the back of his throat and fed him a steady stream of brandy.
“He what?”
Cor offered to drive, once he pieced together things from Nyx’s spluttering, and then made it an order when Nyx started making excuses. Admittedly, the good thing about Cor being there was the fact people squared off instantly and let Nyx into Prompto’s room without question.
“Oh, please tell me you’re here to take me home,” Prompto whined, as soon as he saw him, and then blushed brightly when he realized Cor was trailing after Nyx into the room.
“He is,” Cor deadpanned, eyebrows arched as Nyx went to sit by the edge of the bed, and looked at him somewhere between wary and defensive. “He’s also on leave, now, to look after you.”
Well, to look after Prompto’s super broken leg, at least.
Nyx looked up at Cor as if he wanted to argue, and then realized it was a much better idea not to. Cor absently wished he knew more people who had enough sense to do that, instead of endlessly picking fights that couldn’t be won, simply because they were fights against him. He studied the two colossal morons that he was so inexplicably fond of – he was a sucker for stupidity, Aulea told him so on a daily basis, really – and threw his keys at Nyx.
“You should get out before word gets to Drautos,” Cor said, eyebrows arched as Nyx held onto the keys like they might explode. “He’ll be rather cross you didn’t invite him to the reception.”
Prompto’s face went pale, around the same time Nyx’s went flushed, and then they looked at each other and realized that this meant… well, the cat would be out of the bag, now. One of the bags, at least.
Cor snorted. It wasn’t very reassuring.
“Time’s ticking, Ulric.”
He sat back to watch them scramble about, figuring out how to move, and very purposefully did not roll his eyes when Nyx ended up walking out into the corridor with Prompto in his arms, like the hero of some two bit soap opera Cor wouldn’t admit, even under torture, that he watched religiously.
He entertained himself reading the incident report, while waiting for Titus to arrive and start having a meltdown because he was too stupid to admit he felt rather paternal about a certain reckless idiot currently in his payroll.
Maybe Aulea was right, Cor thought, reading about Prompto fending off a home invasion with his wits and some rather meanspirited use of a tripod, maybe he was a sucker for stupidity.
“Does it hurt?” Nyx asked, helping Prompto get settle back in his bed, and absolutely focusing on that instead of being an idiot about it, even though it never did stop feeling magical, to have the blond in his arms.
It would be even more magical if he weren’t hurt, though.
“Eh, only a little bit,” Prompto replied, smiling awkwardly and looking at him from under his lashes, which was about the goddamn cutest fucking thing, and something Nyx knew entirely too well he didn’t do out of some lewd attempt to seduce him, even though he’d be seduced immediately by it. And then he smiled and Nyx felt like a creep for those feelings, because of course Prompto wasn’t interested, Prompto was a friend. “Only if I move, though.”
Nyx smiled back and resisted to urge to kiss his forehead.
It was a great urge.
“Well, that’s easy enough to help with,” he said, winking when it made Prompto snort. “After all, I’m on leave from the Marshal himself, to look after my poor, brave husband.”
Prompto buried his face into his hands.
“Don’t,” Prompto muttered, looking at him through his fingers, “I’ll get used to it, and where we’ll be then?”
“Happily married still?” Nyx said hopefully, eyebrows wiggling teasingly.
Prompto threw a pillow at his face, and it was worth it.