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“Hey, you ever play Justice Monsters Party?” Prompto asks from the other side of the used game rack. They’ve already gone through the new releases, which seemed kind of useless, since Noctis tends to pre-order whatever he wants anyway. The only real surprises are in the older, unloved bins, full of games that don’t get advertising or that came out before Noctis had graduated and earned some actual gaming time. He looks up at Prompto and scoffs.
“Duh, who hasn’t?”
Prompto turns pink, which tells Noctis exactly who hasn’t. Eyes dropping, Prompto sheepishly mutters, “Hey, they’re expensive for a party game.”
Noctis’ chest constricts, but he reminds his boyfriend, “Not too expensive for you, Mr. Royal Consort.”
That cheers Prompto right up. He laughs, his smile splitting his face at the stupid nickname. Ignis would kill them for even joking about that sort of thing in public, but Ignis isn’t around right now, so Noctis teases all he likes. He keeps skimming his side of the rack. “I’m not really into them, anyway. Specs always kicks my ass, so what’s the point?” His eyes land on a battered case with a title he’s never heard of. Pulling it out, he suggests, “What if we just got something stupid on purpose?” Holding the game up for Prompto, he reads off, “like ‘Having Lots of Babies’?” The back of the case half talks about being a learning tool for new parents and half boasts of over-done mini-games. But the screenshots of ugly newborn babies in a foot race is enough to win him over.
Except Prompto doesn’t laugh at that one. Noctis looks over in time to see him frown, mutter, “Nah,” and walk away. He circles all the way over to the swag wall, leaving Noctis alone, even though they haven’t gotten something to play yet. Once, Noctis would’ve shrugged it off and kept going.
Since dating Prompto, he’s expanded his emotional range. He can tell when something’s wrong. Still holding the game, he wanders over to Prompto. The store is buzzing with customers, but they’re the only ones in their corner. He nudges Prompto’s side and quietly asks, “What’s wrong?”
Prompto wrinkles his nose. Noctis nudges him again and presses, “C’mon.”
Prompto fumbles with words. He opens and closes his mouth a few times and nervously tugs at his wristband. Then he sucks in a deep breath and leans in to whisper, “Noct, I... I can’t give you kids, you know.”
Noctis knows. He’s not an idiot. But that has nothing to do with anything. “Dude, it’s just a game.”
“I know, but...” Prompto fidgets conspicuously. “I just... I worry about that sometimes, you know? Like... I love being with you, but... sooner or later... you’re gonna have to leave me for that.”
Noctis stares at him. “Prom, I don’t even want kids.”
“Noct, you’re the prince.”
“So? Even if the council made me have one, we could just adopt.”
Somehow, that makes Prompto look even more uncomfortable, even though it’s a more responsible solution than having their own anyway. “That wouldn’t continue the royal line.”
“Again: so? You’re adopted, and you’re great.”
Prompto’s cheeks turn pink. He’s adorable when he does that. Noctis is never, ever leaving him, not for any reason.
Prompto mumbles miserably, “What if I’m a shit dad?”
It’s so sweetly stupid that Noctis almost laughs. Instead, he squeezes Prompto’s arm and says, “Aw, babe, you’ll be a great dad. Because we’re gonna get this game and practice lots.”
Finally, a smile cracks. Prompto snorts. Noctis leans over to give him a quick peck on the lips, not caring who sees.
But Noctis does acquiesce, “We can get a different game though. How about Blitzball Champs?”
Prompto looks horrified at the mere thought. “Not even for you, man.” He snatches the case out of Noctis’ hands and heads for the register, deciding, “If it’s that or babies, I’m knocking you up!”