Chapter Text
noct!!!
wake up dude!
Missed call from Prompto.
nooooct
wake up
wake up
wake up (edited)
go away autocorrect
Missed call from Prompto.
dude!
(ノ°▽°)ノ︵┻━┻
what the fuck prompto
what
check lucair
there’s a promotion
tickets are super cheap
( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و
oh man
say the word buddy
say it
my bank account is ready
yours is ready?
check out mine
Attachment: Screenshot_7550602-143848.png
fuck off dude you’re not paying
got me there
iggy would rat me out in a second
“local prince buys plane ticket to backend of nowhere”
“advisor goes on rampage through the crown city”
real talk though
how long does this deal last
like uhhh a week i think
okay
i’m gonna think about it
don’t leave me hangin (´•ω•̥`)
--
Summer brings two cold snaps in quick succession, making it feel as if the hard winter from months past is making a sudden comeback. Noctis doesn’t mind much; he gets to bundle up wherever he goes, whether it be to the kitchen or to his part-time job for the season.
He also gets to make Ignis question his sanity when he sees Noctis wandering the Citadel with shorts under his sweater.
The cold snaps also prompt a lot of tourism ads trying to tempt people to get out of the city and go to where the weather is properly warm for a few days. Noctis sees them on his phone and plastered to billboards and lingers on them every time. There’s even one really leaning into the enchanting atmosphere of the Nebulawood out in Duscae.
That’s close to where he wants to go. He knows where the Nebulawood is almost by heart because he’s spent so long staring at a map of eastern Duscae, wondering how to snag the opportunity to make it out there. He knows how much a plane ticket costs, how much bus tickets cost, how much it would cost in gas to drive. He knows how long it would take any which way, too.
And he thinks, maybe, if he mentions the camping out there, he could get Gladio on board, but that’s about it.
Summer is a busy time in the Citadel. There’s just too much piled onto his schedule. Noctis knows this.
He stares at the map at one in the morning, anyway, trying to figure out how best to say that it can’t be done. It’s an impossible task. Prompto’s spent a year hinting and tugging and, now, saving up and bookmarking LucAir prices and hoping.
And Noctis can’t go.
He throws his phone to the end of his bed, buries himself under his blankets, and goes to sleep again. He still has until the end of the week.
In the morning, he meets Ignis in the underground parking lot and they drive to the Citadel. Ignis rattles off their schedules and hints at something new prepared for lunch, and they spend a few hours escaping from the chilly weather.
Noctis almost brings up the subject of visiting Prompto during lunch. Almost. The little pastries Ignis made are just that good, very nearly making him forget that anything is actually hard. But not quite. Lunch ends and Ignis drives Noctis to work.
And then, he comes back to the Citadel for a late dinner with his father, and that’s where the invisible, unspoken change snaps.
“Oh, to have a quiet moment after a long day,” his father says wearily as the doors of the private dining room click shut behind them.
Noctis sympathizes. His shift wasn’t long, but it was busy from the moment he clocked in to the moment he clocked out. More than that, though, his father always sounds tired to him.
“Let’s have a seat, Stella.”
Noctis almost opens his mouth. Almost. He sits instead.
On the other side of the table, his father smiles. A side door opens and dinner is served. They chat around the vegetables on Noctis’ plate, and Noctis slowly wedges himself back behind his face and comes out laughing on the other side.
Tired and weighted, his father can still make him laugh.
Except, then Regis follows up his little joke with, “Queen Sylva is arranging a visit this summer. It’s been quite some time since Lady Lunafreya graced us with her lovely presence.”
And Noctis is uplifted, even though it makes him feel a little bad. He won’t get to see Prompto, but Luna is his next best friend. The summer won’t be a complete failure.
And then, “Lord Ravus will be along with her, as well.”
And his tone says it all. Regis doesn’t say it, but Noctis knows what he’s picking at, and for the briefest moment, there’s nothing behind Noctis’ face but what the world wants from him. There’s a phantom wearing his eyes and lips and breathing with his lungs and there’s no room left for him.
And he can’t do it.
--
Stella. Stella.
He says it, in his mind and out loud, but his reflection rejects it. It slides off of him, water off his feathers. It digs in with a hard note and doesn’t fit.
Noctis.
In his mind, an unspoken apology through the mirror. Familiar, bone deep.
Noctis. Noctis.
--
prom
prompto
ya buddy this is your prompto speaking how can i help you
the tickets are still on sale right
(ﾟoﾟ〃)
no WAY
how’d you convince ignis??
how’d you convince tHE KING?????
don’t even ask me
you’ll jinx us
just do it
i’m doin it!
WAIT
omg noct
noct my finger is right here
on the button
what is it
hang on
nooooct
(ノ´ロ`)ノ
no look
Link successfully scanned by antivirus!
what’s this?
you wanna take a train???
if i get on a plane people are gonna stare at me the whole damn time
oh ya you hate that
yeah and the prices for a train ride are pretty much the same
also
it stops in longwythe
i’m gonna go stand and take a picture where you did last year
it’ll be funny
dude!
do it!
this is gonna be so good
okay so what’s the date gonna be
when’s the magic happening
summer chocobo racing starts on the 15th right
yup yup
the friday before then
early
∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
done
you just gotta print it!
you’re the best prompto
can’t wait to get out there
i’m so excited
can i call you
Noctis started a call.
--
“You’re in good spirits today,” Ignis comments as they climb into his car.
There’s nothing he could be referring to but the look of dumb satisfaction and anticipation on Noctis’ face. Noctis has to scramble for a plausible reason.
“Just thinking about something Prompto said last night,” he says. Is he veering too close to the truth? Maybe. But Ignis still looks pleased.
“Ah, your King’s Knight friend,” he says.
Noctis is almost overcome with the need to whip out his phone and tell Prompto that being boyfriends is out and being King’s Knight friends is in. He doesn’t, but only because Ignis could glance over and spot the screenshot Prompto sent him of the list of refreshments offered on the TransLucis Passenger Express.
“Yeah, my King's Knight friend,” he says, biting back a snicker. “It was funny.”
“I hope you didn’t stay up too late savouring it.”
He did, in fact, stay up way too late. His phone lists the call as having gone for over three hours, but he knows at least one of those hours passed with only the sounds of them sleeping reaching the microphone. The rest of the call was a constant back and forth of everything they could think of squeezing into the short time that Noctis would be visiting. Just thinking back on it makes it difficult for him to keep a straight face.
He just can’t wait.
--
got you a present for when you get here
(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
what
it’s a surprise
what is it
it’s a surprise!
you have to tell me though
like
legally
no!!!
i have a question though
about the surprise?
no, about what you said earlier
about your breasts
uh?
yeah??
what about mine?
(・・？)
what about them???
like what do you think about them?
cause i know you don’t like yours
and i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything when you get here
but i like touching mine
and like
with sex
so should i like squish em
you’re not wearing a binder during sex prompto!!
honestly you’re fine
i’ll play with your boobs all you want
i just don’t want you to play with mine
♡✧( ु•⌄• )
just checkin buddy!
workin now
you’re the best, love ya
if you think i forgot about the surprise you’re dead wrong
come back here
--
“You’ve taken vacation time from work?” Ignis asks over lunch at the Citadel. He’s got one hand around a coffee mug and the other on his tablet, where he’s just noticed the huge chunk of Noctis’ schedule that’s suddenly free.
“Aw,” Gladio says, nudging Noctis’ shoulder. “If you wanted to spend more time with me in the yard you could have just told me.”
“Shut up, Gladio,” Noctis says without bite. He shrugs at Ignis. “I figured if I got some more time in with training then he’d leave me alone more.”
Gladio snorts. “That’s not how it works, Stella.”
“It is now,” Noctis retorts. Smoothing his hackles, resyncing himself after a half-second delay, is muscle memory. “Dad’s passing a law and everything. All Gladios gotta leave me alone next month.”
“The hell he is--my dad has his ear.”
“Ah, well,” Ignis says, leaning over to let his tablet slide into his bag on the floor. “I’m sure we can find something to fill in your days.”
Noctis groans as Gladio laughs. He almost tells them not to bother.
But not quite.
--
“I’m finally gonna get to hear your voice.”
“You’ve heard my voice before. You’re--I’m literally talking to you right now!”
“I mean in person! Not on the phone or in some press thing on the radio. I’m gonna get to see you and hear you. And I’m gonna get to kiss you.”
“Cut it out. You’re making it really hard to just sit here.”
“Only two more days, dude.”
“I know. It’s taking forever, though.”
“I feel your pain. Wanna do something?”
“Am I going to have to get out of bed?”
“I’d be disappointed if you got out of bed.”
--
Writing a note is a lot harder than Noctis ever thought it would be. Not when it isn’t gone to get lunch, gone to work early, gone to the arcade. This one is more than its weight in stationary paper.
He almost says fuck it and writes two lines on a sheet ripped from the three-ring notebook Ignis left on the coffee table, but the idea of that feels like a slap to his own face as much as anyone else’s.
He’s not going to lunch. And with any luck, he’ll come back with more than a full stomach.
In the end, he goes into the kitchen late at night and looks at the last note Ignis left on his fridge. It lists all the leftovers he left for Noctis to eat over the weekend since he won’t be making trips to the apartment until Monday. Then, in the same neat script Ignis uses for everything important--Please take care of yourself.
Noctis reads it over and over again before penning a note of his own.
--
I can’t wait to meet you
I can’t even be bothered to correct autocorrect, i can’t sleep
don’t stay up too late
you have to pick me up, remember
go to sleep
royal decree
yessir
i can’t wait to meet you, either
--
He wakes up at 5:30 AM.
He never wakes up so early, nor does he leave his apartment before six, but he does.
Getting on now, he sends to Prompto.
He never shuts his phone off, either, but here, heart clenching as he sits alone in a small compartment of a train car, bundled up against the chilly morning and the air conditioning, watching as the train begins to pull out of the station, he does.
A woman’s voice floats through the intercom as the train begins to pick up speed. She thanks all the passengers for choosing TransLucis Rails as they make their way westbound, stopping first at the South Leide-Insomnia Checkpoint before heading to Hammerhead, Longwythe, and Kettier.
“There, we will stop briefly. There are connections at Kettier for--”
Noctis stops listening. Kettier is his stop.
He leans back, still watching as Insomnia flies by. Soon, the roads and skyscrapers will disappear, giving way to the sea and the desert of Leide. He’ll manage a quick stop in Longwythe for a picture--not quite where Prompto stood, but close enough with the time he’ll have--and then--
--finally--
--
“Stop crying,” Noctis orders as soon as he gets the breath to do so. It doesn’t work. He’s laughing too much, grinning too hard, and he can barely make sense of himself, let alone expect Prompto to.
“I can’t help it,” Prompto warbles into Noctis’ shoulder. He squeezes his arms around Noctis’ back tightly, tighter than Gladio could probably ever manage, and cries some more. “You’re here! You’re actually here! I get to hug you and--” he pulls back, eyes watery but bright. “Hey, can I kiss you?”
“Not if I kiss you first,” Noctis says quickly before going in for the kill.
The noise Prompto makes is surprise and joy combined, and his arms come back around Noctis even tighter as he leans into the kiss, almost knocking them both over with the force of it. The shuffle to stabilize them adds a little to the awkwardness of Noctis’ first kiss, but he doesn’t care. Prompto, somewhat more experienced, manages to correct it, tilting his head so that their lips fit perfectly together.
It only lasts a few seconds because neither of them can help smiling and giggling against each other, but as far as first kisses go with his boyfriend, the person who knows him better than anyone else, it’s more than Noctis could have asked for.
When Prompto leans back, he’s in full sunlight. His cheeks are red, freckles stark across them, his eyes are bright, his lips wet, and the highlights of his hair are like a halo. Noctis couldn’t keep his eyes off him the first time they got in a video chat, nor the first time they laid eyes on each other on the platform before crashing into each other, and he can’t keep his eyes off him now.
“I have the most handsome boyfriend in the world,” Prompto says happily.
“Fuck you,” Noctis blurts out. “I think I should be the one that gets to decide who’s most handsome.”
Prompto, as expected, ducks his chin and makes a poor attempt to hide behind his own shoulder with a whining, “No!”
Noctis smirks. “Yes.”
Prompto turns around and starts walking away, but he keeps a strong grip on Noctis’ arm, and Noctis doesn’t fight it. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’re gonna order pizza and play games all night.”
“Yes, Mr. Beautiful, sir.”
“Stop!”
--
“Hey, so,” Prompto starts half-way through the movie that Noctis has long since lost the plot of. It’s late and Prompto looks tipsy on pizza, root beer, and kisses, cheeks red and warm as they huddle under blankets on his couch. “Remember when I said I had a surprise for you?”
“Before you tried changing the subject by talking about boobs? Yeah. Are you gonna give it to me now?”
Prompto shushes him as he extricates himself from the blanket cocoon. He pauses the movie before he staggers off toward his bedroom with one leg still asleep and returns with a small bag with tissue paper sticking out of it.
“Okay, so,” he says, holding the bag out in front of Noctis. “You know when I was asking you about measurements and stuff?”
“Uh… kinda? How far back did you get this?”
Prompto smiles sheepishly. “Like… months ago?”
“What the hell. What is it?” Noctis grabs the bag and is almost surprised when Prompto lets him take it. He pulls the tissue paper out to find dark cream-coloured fabric hidden underneath and pulls it out between his thumbs and forefingers to let it unfold in front of him. “You got me a shirt?”
He can’t see Prompto’s face behind the shirt, but he hears the sound of Prompto’s palm meeting his face and a snicker. “No, dummy.”
Noctis rubs his thumbs over the fabric, finding it smooth and stretchy. It clicks. He drops his hands into his lap, holding his gift tight, fighting the worry that it’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and stares up at Prompto’s expectant face.
“You got me a binder.”
Prompto nods quickly. “Mhmm.”
“When--months ago? You got this…”
“I got it when I got mine ‘cause I had all your measurements,” Prompto admits. He adds quickly, “But! If it doesn’t fit right then I’ll send it back and get a better one.”
Noctis holds the binder up again. He can’t tell for sure in the light offered by the television, but the colour of it looks almost like the colour of his skin. He tests the give of the fabric, inexplicably pleased when it doesn’t stretch as far as he expects it to--as he would expect a normal tank top to.
It looks his size, too. It’s gonna fit. He wants it to.
“Wanna try it on?” Prompto asks tentatively.
Noctis’ words are all choked up in his lungs, too many and too little at once to ever say what he’s feeling. He nods instead.
“Okie-dokie. Lemme hit the light and then I’ll help you.”
Later, with Noctis’ shirt and sports bra discarded on the floor, he and Prompto stand in the middle of the living room, grinning uncontrollably all over again. Prompto’s binder is pale cream, blending almost perfectly except where it breaks up the freckles on his shoulders and fitting even better. Noctis is a little darker, a little more off-coloured, but he can breathe and move in it and it doesn’t dig into the skin around his shoulders as they’d initially worried.
“Happy super belated birthday,” Prompto says proudly. “Happy super early birthday?”
Noctis all but jumps on him for a hug.
--
Prompto unveils yet another surprise when they finally turn in for bed.
“An air mattress?” Noctis asks from the bedroom doorway, binder changed out for a sleep shirt. He shouldn’t have bothered asking since it’s very clearly an air mattress taking up the entirety of the floor space in Prompto’s room. But-- “Why?”
“The novelty of it all,” Prompto says with a shrug from where he’s flopped down on his back. “Also, my bed’s kind of… old? I don’t want your royal back sleeping on it. You’d be like the prince and the pea. You’d die.”
“I’m sure it’d be fine,” Noctis says, picking his way to Prompto’s actual bed to prove his point.
Prompto’s foot shoots out and trips him, though, and he goes toppling onto the air mattress, causing them both to bounce on it and--okay. Maybe Prompto’s going places with this thing.
“No!” Prompto protests. “Like, come on, man. You’re not gonna get this shit on that bed.”
And then he raises his hips and drops them back down forcefully, and Noctis bounces up into the air a couple inches.
“Fuckin’ weak, man,” Noctis says, laughing as he rolls over and gets on his hands and knees. “Watch this.”
Prompto makes a noise of barely contained glee just before Noctis stands up and then hops just enough to get his feet out from under himself so that he can fall back to the mattress on his ass, sending Prompto into the air with a shriek and very nearly into his wall. The situation dissolves quickly from there until they’re both breathless and weak from laughter, half on the air mattress, half on the floor, half on each other.
“Okay,” Noctis gasps. “We can sleep on this. Where’s--pillows? Blankets?”
“Hell yeah,” Prompto says, scooting toward his bed on his knees and yanking several pillows off of it. They land in a pile and Noctis arranges them so that by the time Prompto turns around with a blanket for them to sleep with, they each have one and Noctis has a third in his hands.
“Can I put this one under my knees?” he asks, fluffing it in his lap. “I have to sleep on my back and that makes it comfier.”
“Dude, go for it,” Prompto says before crawling back to his bed one more time. He returns with a very large, very squishy chocobo plushie. “I like having something against my chest and if it’s not a pillow then I’ll just use this guy.”
They fumble around on the mattress, making themselves comfortable, and Prompto leaves the tiny nest on his side of the bed to turn the light off before they really settle in. There, in the darkness and quiet of Prompto’s bedroom, Noctis reaches for his phone out of habit--but it’s not there, and he doesn’t need it to talk to Prompto anyway. He is, finally, unbelievably, right here with Prompto.
“This feels like a dream,” Prompto murmurs. He’s resting on his side, facing Nocts with the plushie clutched to his chest between them, and the head of it slightly muffles him. “Like I’m gonna wake up and you’re gonna be gone and I’m gonna forget the whole thing.”
“Nah, man,” Noctis whispers. He reaches over and slides his hand underneath the chocobo to grip Prompto’s arm loosely. “I’m gonna be right here in the morning.”
He can just see Prompto smiling in the dark. He can see it even better when he shifts over and kisses his nose before settling back down again.
“Goodnight, Prompto.”
“Goodnight, Noctis.”
They drift into silence. As Prompto’s breathing begins to deepen, Noctis whispers again.
Thank you. Thank you.