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“Hey, Prom,” Noctic said with an air of boredom that was so thoroughly out of place with the chaos of tailors, caterers, assistants, and decorators around him that Prompto was seventy percent sure he was actually dreaming. The Grand Hall of the Citadel was usually as quiet as a monastic cloister, but now dozens of conversations about this or that color, this or that fancy hors d'oeuvre, where should the fifth bar be placed, reverberated around him with the force of summer thunderstorm. “I’m not ready for this exam, dude, I’m gonna end up throwing my math textbook out of the window…”
Noct looked very out of place in his pajamas, yawning and sleepily scratching his stomach while a caterer at a table behind him looked like she was about to cry over the state of the silverware.
Prompto grinned, though his eyes kept flicking to the chaos surrounding them. Noct was like the center of the storm; a bubble of peace in what looked to be the most stressful party planning ever. “‘Bout to go full feral on some calculus, huh?”
“You fucking know it.” Noct groaned loud enough to make the tearful caterer jump, and then he slung his arms over Prompto’s shoulders and groaned again, sinking his full deadweight against Prompto’s frame. Prompto laughed and flung him around, rag-doll like, and ruffled his hair.
“Let’s go do some calc, I-fucking-guess,” and they turned towards the back of the Hall, where the labyrinth of the Citadel would take them to Noct’s rooms.
“So, uh,” Prompto gestured to the storm around them. “Planning a birthday party or something?” He knew Noct’s birthday was still months away, but Noct was apparently either completely oblivious to crying caterers and stressed assistants, or was purposefully not explaining what was happening to be quote unquote funny.
Noct grinned and Prompto had his answer. “It’s for the Gala tomorrow night.”
“...What Gala?”
“The Winter Solstice Gala. We have it every year? Press, famous snobby people, lots of food, fake tabloid scandals, red carpet - ringing any bells?”
Prompto punched him lightly on the shoulder. “No, I’m just a damn plebe, remember?”
“Or just someone with their head in the clouds,” Noct laughed as they stepped into the elevator.
“Says the guy who walked into the streetlamp the other day!”
“You swore you wouldn’t ever bring that up again!”
“I make my own rules, Princey.”
“Hmph.” Noct played with the hem of his overlarge sweater - Prompto could have sworn it was Gladio’s - and he said, quietly, “You could come, if you want to.”
“Wh-?” Prompto laughed, but the earnest, eager look hidden in Noct’s dark eyes made the sound die in his throat. “I - uh, I don’t have any fancy clothes, or jewelry, or anything…”
Noct beamed, and Prompto flushed as he waved his hand, brushing aside that concern with ease. “That’ll be easy, don’t worry - hey, maybe we could ditch studying and we could go get you fitted for something-”
The elevator door quietly slid open and they were immediately face-to-face with a haggard-looking Ignis.
“Noctis. Forgetting anything?”
From behind Ignis, Gladio gave Prompto a two-fingered salute, and Noct swore more loudly than he had in the Grand Hall, “Damnit, Specs, was that today?”
“Yes, indeed it was.” Ignis turned his steely gaze towards Prompto, and immediately his eyes softened as he inclined his head. “Hello, Prompto, I’m sorry to dash off as soon as you got here, but the Prince has a very important meeting regarding the benefactors for the Gala and-”
“Prom’s coming! He said he would.”
Gladio and Ignis both looked at him again, Gladio standing up a bit from the wall he was leaning against, and Prompto flushed again, darker this time. “Well - maybe - I don’t have fancy clothes, though-”
“Fuck, and we have to go to this stupid meeting - okay, wait, I can figure this out. I have a brilliant idea.” Noct dug around in his bag, ignoring Ignis impatiently tugging at his elbow, and threw something full force at Prompto’s head. He yelped but caught it, fumbling only a little. Gladio laughed and Prompto started to ask just what the hell was going on, but Noct beat him to it:
“Just - use that! Buy some new clothes and stuff - the theme is… fuck, what was it, Ig-”
“Celestial bodies,’ please, Noct, we are extraordinarily late even for you - anything related to celestial bodies, Prompto; sorry for rushing off like this but we were supposed to be there thirty minutes ago-”
“Use the card!” Noct called, as Ignis was finally assisted by Gladio and they pulled Noct out the door and down the hall and then they were gone, though Prompto could hear them bickering. Only then did he glance down at the thing Noct had thrown at his head, and his knees almost buckled at the sight of the shiny Black Platinum credit card of one Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.
“Holy fuck,” Prompto whispered. His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he almost felt guilty about not using two hands to gently cup the card like it was a baby bird as he checked the messages.
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: Sorry again about rushing off as soon as you arrived - I’ve called a car for you.
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: Feel free to take it back to your dormitory, or to any place to purchase attire for the Gala tomorrow. Please keep in mind that it is a white tie event.
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: The private tailor of the royal family works out of a boutique on Veruna Avenue. The driver has the address. I have called ahead to let them know you might be stopping by and are looking for attire for the gala.
CHOCOBRO_PROM: r u driving rn??
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: Also, this goes without saying, but please don’t steal the Prince’s credit card. He’s already lost three in the past year.
CHOCOBRO_PROM: vive la revolution babey mine now
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: PFFT nah, its gladio ;D iggy’s dictating. did a pretty good job huh?
CHOCOBRO_PROM: ur a natural. a born spy
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: fuck yeah
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: anyways u gotta come to this thing tomorrow!!
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: more fun if ur there ;D
CHOCOBRO_PROM: only to make u happy, gladio
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: :D
Compared to the rest of the sleek, modern businesses and stores dotting the wide lanes of Veruna Avenue, the tailor’s shop was just… ugly. No beating around the bush there. It was shabby - the green and gold paint of both the storefront and the vintage hanging sign looked like they had started to chip forty years ago, and had not seen a proper coat of paint since. Clutching Noct’s credit card in one hand and his phone in the other, he stared up at the sign, utterly frozen to the steps and not entirely sure that Ignis wasn’t playing a long-con prank on him.
The bell above the door chimed softly, and one of the most ludicrously attractive men Prompto had ever seen stepped out with a big, broad smile. It almost hurt to look directly at him - wait a second, is he actually glowing or am I just gay and hallucinating - The man gave a big, dramatic flourishing bow and held the door wide. “Welcome, Prompto Argentum! We’ve been expecting you.”
He stared, and then the man smiled again, crooked his finger, and Prompto found himself being pulled in by what he swore was an invisible hand on the front of his shirt. He stepped over the threshold and was immediately flabbergasted all over again - no way this little shopfront was this big inside - but the man was already sweeping him over to the counter, where a fierce blonde woman who looked to be the tailor’s twin was waiting for him. She inclined her head, and greeted him in a not-entirely-cold manner, “Hello, Master Argentum. My name is Eirtae Veruna, and this is my brother, Ari. We’ve been expecting you, and are very happy to help find the perfect attire for the Gala tomorrow evening.”
“T-thanks? It’s my first one, and I don’t know what to wear… uh, I have this-,” and then he realized what it would look like, if he simply handed over the Prince’s credit card and continued in a panic, “Noct gave it to me, I didn’t steal it or anything, we’re friends, so-”
“Don’t worry, Ignis informed us you would be carrying the Prince’s card,” Ari said with a gentle smile. “We’ve a long relationship with the royal family. Our services are… specialized to our clients’ needs. Are you ready to get started?”
“Sure?”
“Excellent!” Ari clapped his hands. “Now, as I understand it, the theme is ‘Celestial Bodies’, and so I’m thinking we should go with the motif of sun, for you, as you’re already halfway there, truly, with your hair… I think we need some gold lace and brocade, wouldn’t you say, Eirtae? Step onto the platform there, please, Master Argentum, there you are… We’re going to make you stop all the other guests in their tracks…”
As Prompto stepped up onto the platform, he was suddenly struck by the feeling of being in the presence of something not-quite-human. He got it sometimes around Noct, around the King. Eirtae and Ari did not quite move like humans, and things seemed to fly directly to their hands as soon as they flexed their fingers. Or just appear out of thin air.
After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged. If he was going to a royal gala, he was going to need all the inter-dimensional help he could get.
CHOCOBRO_PROM: what do u MEAN i have to show up BY MYSELFCHOCOBRO_PROM: this is a BETRAYAL
CHOCOBRO_PROM: i hate all of u this is no lie
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: It’s an archaic tradition - the royal family and retainers have to be present at a ceremony before the start of the Gala. I’m very sorry.
100PERCENTLUCIANBEEF_GLADIO: it’s bs y can’t we like. sneak him in or smthg
FISHFEARME_NOCT: bc ur dad would kill u and my dad would kill me
100PERCENTLUCIANBEEF_GLADIO: he’s small enough we could stash him somewhere!!
CHOCOBRO_PROM: ‘come to the gala, prom’ ‘it’ll be fun, prom’
CHOCOBRO_PROM: i’m disowning all of u
FISHFEARME_NOCT: sorry that’s illegal
FISHFEARME_NOCT: royal orders and all
CHOCOBRO_PROM: fuk u
FISHFEARME_NOCT: 😘
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: I’ll send a car to pick you up, and then it’s simply a matter of following the other guests in. You’ll have to give your name to the steward at the entrance to the Hall so he can announce your name when you arrive, and then we’ll come and find you.
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: It’ll be fine.
CHOCOBRO_PROM: ANNOUNCE?? MY NAME????
100PERCENTLUCIANBEEF_GLADIO: it’ll be fine dude ppl will mostly be looking at the princess
FISHFEARME_NOCT: ugh
FISHFEARME_NOCT: thanks for reminding me
100PERCENTLUCIANBEEF_GLADIO: need me to shield u from their stares, little man
FISHFEARME_NOCT: i wouldn’t ask u to do that
FISHFEARME_NOCT: u should just DO it
CHOCOBRO_PROM: i am going to die.
KISSTHECOOK_IGGY: Now that would be a great tragedy indeed.
He almost couldn’t believe he was standing in the same Grand Hall as the day before. Gone were the scurrying caterers and servants and lighting technicians and cleaners, gone was the nearly palpable day-before panic. In its place, the Grand Hall of the Citadel was shimmering blacks and golds and silvers - a cosmos laid down in the form of black marble floors shined to gleaming perfection, reflecting the dotted lights from hundreds of chandeliers far above them. Floating, perfect replicas of the galaxies were strung at length along the Hall, orbiting each other thanks to some technical genius. Somewhere, at the other end of the hall, an orchestra was already playing. Music floated softly above the conversation of a hundred nobles, and Prompto Argentum stood outside looking in, the steward politely looking away while he gathered his courage to step over the threshold.
He nervously plucked the hem of his delicate gold lace sleeve, admiring the way the lights of the citadel caught the gold glitter of his immaculate nail polish, even as his stomach threatened to upend itself all over the Veruna’s work. Not that he’d been able to eat much at lunch, anyways.
He had once thought that a surprise calculus was truly the most nerve-wracking thing life could ever throw at him. Or maybe carrying around the Prince’s credit card.
But this shit was on a wholly different level.
These are the most powerful and wealthiest people in the country. No big deal.
He watched as two women drifted by the entrance, chatting amiably with each other, their arms linked. One of them was wearing a perfect replica of Saturn’s rings… if each ring were encrusted in diamonds and sapphires and rubies of all shades.
...Okay, yes. Very big deal I’m not ready I can’t do this I don’t look like…
His eyes drifted to one of the ornately framed mirrors that lined the entryway to the Hall, and once more his knees almost buckled at the reflection, at the young noble staring back at him. He did look like them, very much so. The Verunas knew their stuff, and just as Ari had promised, they’d made him look like the sun, all glittering gold and bright, shining jewels to match.
He looked good, he really did.
Heat rose to his cheeks at the way he was checking himself out, but he had to work up the courage somehow.
“Whenever you are ready, Master Argentum.” The steward asked gently, eyes kind enough to make Prom relax. “It’s just a few seconds, and then it’ll be over.”
He jerked back to reality, back to his very real predicament, and swore up and down he’d slaughter Noct and the others if they even so much as laughed in his direction. His head felt a bit light and fuzzy around the edges, like he was ever-so-slightly detached from his own body, but he couldn’t sit out here all night.
He’d promised them. He’d promised them, because they had said it would make them happy.
Prompto took a deep breath, and nodded at the steward. “I’m ready.”
The man smiled, turned to the overflowing crowds of the Hall, and announced his name, booming loud enough so that it reached the thrones at the far end, and the people standing around them.
“Master Prompto Argentum! ”
And he stepped over the threshold.
Noctis kicked his feet, trying not to be too obviously sullen. All around them the party swirled in full force: nobles and courtiers schmoozing with each other, their eyes darting around and casting quick judgements on that person’s dress, their shoes, her hair, the length of his coattails.
Prompto was late.
“Sit up, Noctis. Stop being so sullen.”
Failed step one.
He moved lethargically, sitting up straight on the cold black marble throne next to his father, and put on a fake smile that somehow made him feel worse than ever. Regis grimaced, and Noct dropped it. There was a bubble of awkward silence for a moment, before his father cleared his throat and said, straightening his bad leg as he did, “I know these functions are not your favorite, but, please, could you make an effort? I know that friend of yours, Prompto, will be here soon-”
“I don’t think he’s coming.” Noct replied curtly, as the steward at the opposite end of the hall announced a pair of siblings, the Verunas. “I probably scared him off with that invitation. And it was selfish of me to ask, anyways.”
“You’re worried he’d feel out of his depth?”
“I mean, yeah. He told us as much… I just thought it’d be more fun if he were here.” He rested his elbow on his knee, chin in his hand, and studied the marble pattern under his feet. Next to him, Gladio and Ignis stood with their backs straight as a lance, but Noct knew they were feeling just as… what, disappointed? Guilty? as he was. He had no right to pressure Prom into coming. They’d been born to these roles, raised in them. It was unfair to Prom, and that made his stomach churn.
“Hm.” Regis reached over and calmly flicked Noct’s elbow, with only the barest hint of amusement in his dark eyes. “I do believe you need to work on your patience, Prince Noctis.”
The steward’s voice boomed from across the Grand Hall, every eye turning towards the latecomer: “Master Prompto Argentum!”
Everything else fell away.
Noct sucked in an involuntary breath.
Oh god.
Prompto looked like a young god.
He looked like a god.
Glitter adorned his cheeks, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, his gentle sweet-smiling lips. His flaxen hair was crowned in a simple golden laurel, its tiny leaves delicate enough to flutter gently in the steady breeze flowing through the ancient citadel’s halls. It trailed behind his ears, and matched the collar resting just above his collarbones that held up the lace that graced his shoulders and arms. Handcrafted feathers dipped in an ombre of gold fell from his shoulders, holding up an elaborate cloak of soft cream silks and sheer bronze gauze. His tunic, the same cream of the cape, was fastened in place by an ornate antique belt depicting the sun itself, sunbeams of tiger’s eye and amber catching the light from all directions. Under it all he wore simple trousers of a deep maroon, with details of gold along the seams and over the chest, peeking out from underneath the feathers like the blazing heart of a star.
Noct’s chest tightened. Like he’d been flung, suddenly and without a word of warning, into the deep end of a glacial lake. His lungs didn’t seem to work anymore. Had they ever worked? He knew he was staring. He knew Gladio and Ignis were, too. He knew they’d frozen, same as he had, as Prompto had stepped into the light. Everything else in the room faded into the background as Prom walked into the Hall, as gracefully as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
Prom’s eyes danced up towards the dias where the three men watched in breathless awe, hearts clamoring, and he smiled like they were the only ones in the room.
Ignis coughed, tried to clear his throat.
Gladio stared, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight.
And Noctis couldn’t quite remember how any of his limbs were supposed to move.
He was here.
He was here, and suddenly Noct didn’t know how he was going to live through the night without throwing himself in his best friend’s arms.
Prom eclipsed every single person in the room. He was the sun for their orbits.
Noct’s heart thumped into overtime.
Prompto gave the three men a little wave, deeply aware of the bright lights shining on his face and the hundreds of powerful eyes on him - but knowing his friends were waiting for him on the other side of the room eased his nervous pattering heart. That was the worst part, done and over. He’d done it.
... now what?
“A beautiful entrance, Master Argentum,” came the cool voice from his left side. “You are a natural.” Eirtae Veruna gracefully slipped his arm through hers as her brother came up on Prompto’s right.
“Fantastic, fantastic, you have them all simply awestruck!” Ari said, flashing him a delighted grin.
He smiled back, feeling more relaxed by the moment. “All thanks to your handiwork - and Noct’s card, of course.”
Ari laughed, bright and loud, and Eirtae smiled, which Prompto took as a major victory.
The Verunas were dressed as twin gas moons, all dark swirling purples and blues and streaks of silver stardust. In between them, Prompto felt like a sun being dutifully orbited. A faint blush simmered over his nose and cheeks before he realized where the two were steering him.
“It’s polite to say hello to your hosts after your arrival. Thank them for the party, etcetera etcetera,” Ari whispered confidentially in his ear as they walked forward towards the black marble dais. “You have an advantage over nearly everyone here - the Prince actually likes you!”
“Look at that, the young Prince is dressed as the moon,” Eirtae whispered.
Why is Noct staring like that- oh, gods, it’s because I look stupid, isn’t it-
“After you say hello, make sure to come find me for a dance,” Ari said, winking as they came to a stop in front of King Regis and Prince Noctis.
“And don’t worry,” Eirtae murmured. “You don’t look stupid. You look marvelous.”
Before Prom had time to wonder if the strange siblings really could read his mind, they’d pushed him forward. In front of the King, and in front of Noct.
Well.
Shit.
Gladio dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands - clasped behind his back, just like his Dad had taught him - and stretched, tightening the muscles of his arms for just a moment as he watched Prompto walk up to the dais. He focused on his breathing, made sure the inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale was natural and unassuming. Like everything was perfectly calm inside his storm of a mind.
Prompto looked good.
He looked damned good.
Gladio shot him a wry grin and puffed up in pride as relief flickered over Prom’s face. Poor kid had been stressin’ about this ever since they had all sort-of-maybe-definitely strong armed him into coming. But fuck! Look at him! It was the right fuckin’ call!
The faint blush under the dusting of glitter darkened dramatically when Gladio mouthed You look so good!, and Gladio’s mouth went a bit dry as a very particular sort of intense, deep hunger punched him in the gut. He liked making Prompto blush. He liked watching Prompto move in that weirdly-graceful way of his. Not Iggy-graceful. But graceful all the same.
Hell, he’s so goddamned fuckin’ pretty.
He kinda wanted to slip his hands underneath all that gold lace, and watch Prompto blush bright cherry red.
Gladio knew Noct well enough by now to know the Prince was struggling with the same thoughts, and not for the first time Gladio was thankful that his position as Shield meant he didn’t have to speak.
Only watch.
Following the movements of the two escorting him, Prompto gave the royal family a somewhat shaky bow, and the lights from a thousand candles caught the gold and glitter scattered like stardust all over his body as he rose. His eyes flicked over to Gladio again, looking for more reassurance - which Gladio was all too happy to give, flashing him another huge smile and a thumbs up. Prom exhaled, a bit shakily, but those damned bright baby-blues were calmer now. I got you, lil’ guy. You’re doing so well.
Ah, hells, maybe they should have coached him in all this first before throwing him into the deep end - but his two coaches seemed to be-
Gladio’s eyes narrowed as the man slipped his arm through Prom’s, and tugged him towards the dance floor. The woman followed at a more serene pace, unperturbed by the tense nerves suddenly flowing off the Prince and his retinue in waves.
The man gave Prom a reassuring smile, said something that made him laugh and relax as they took up their positions - the man leading, Prom following - and as he put his hand on Prom’s waist, the stranger’s eyes flashed up towards Gladio, and smiled with an all-too-innocent gleam.
Gladio’s eyes narrowed, and the hunger in his gut grew more keen.
Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?
The man’s smile grew a bit sharper, like he knew exactly what Gladio was thinking.
Fine. Dukes up, pretty boy , Gladio glowered as the music swelled and the pair began to move amidst a company of celestial bodies.
Prompto was speaking to a young woman when they were finally released from their duties, and the way his wonderful smile burst over his face when he spotted them moving towards them loosened the anxiety coiled tight in Ignis’ shoulders. He’d looked fantastic, but up close… Ignis simply couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.
He barely even noticed when the young woman bowed and excused herself, so fixated was he on the way the delicate golden leaves of his laurel necklace rested oh-so-lightly on Prompto’s throat. At this point , Ignis reasoned to himself as he gave Prompto a soft, gentle smile (something that always just felt right to give him), we should all simply be upfront. Honesty is key, and running around like lovesick schoolchildren isn’t very dignified -
He interrupted his own racing train of thoughts, sounding much calmer than he felt, “Prompto, my dear!”
By the Six. The way his entire face lit up when he said that. Ignis cleared his throat, ignoring his own terribly weak knees, and went on, “You look absolutely marvelous.”
Prompto beamed, waving aside Ignis’ praise as a faint blush crept over his face. “I kinda feel like I’m doing everything wrong… everyone here is so, uh...” His words trailed off as he gestured around the hall. Gladio was all but dragging Noctis over by the scruff of the neck - Ignis made a mental note to coach Noctis on controlling his expressions - but he understood what the Prince was feeling. Luckily, Prompto seems not to have noticed how utterly speechless he had rendered Noctis.
“Comfortable?” Ignis offered.
Prompto shot him a mischievous grin. “I was gonna say bougie, actually.”
Ignis blinked, and then snorted. “Right you are. Never fear, you looked perfectly at ease for the announcement. Like you’d been born to the court.”
“That’s a relief. I thought I was gonna hurl - hey, Specs, if I had, what would’ve happened-”
How easy it was to make him laugh. Ignis allowed himself a tiny smile as he answered, “Polite aversion of eyes and a well-orchestrated rush to clean it up as quickly as possible.” He lowered his voice, leaned in close to Prompto - by the Six, was he wearing cologne - and murmured, “It has, unfortunately, happened before.”
“No shit? ” Prompto laughed in delight, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Who-”
His words were cut off as Gladio clapped him fondly on the shoulder, Noct silent and staring on Gladio’s other side, “The scene-stealer himself! Yo, I know you were worried about this, but holy hells, Prom, you look so fuckin’ good.”
Prompto’s blush deepened, and Gladio’s smile widened as Prompto stuttered, “You look good, too, big guy. I didn’t know you owned any shirts at all.”
Gladio guffawed and began to flex, hitting the poses like he’d practiced them every time he passed a mirror (and oh, how Ignis could embarrass the Shield with that knowledge), “Yeah, surprise, right? Haven’t worn a shirt for this long since my top surgery. ” With another brazen flex, he cocked a crooked grin at Prom. “Who knew they made tuxes in this size, huh?”
Poor Prompto. He tried to stammer out something witty in rejoinder, but Ignis knew full well how it felt to be on the receiving end of Gladio’s incessant peacocking. Over Prompto’s golden head, he met Gladio’s eyes, and smirked, laughing under his breath. At least they were on the same page on how to proceed. Honesty is key, after all.
Nevertheless, he decided to rescue Prompto from the, ah, gun show. Quote-unquote. “Can I fetch you something to drink? Or perhaps some of the hor d'oeuvres?”
Still a faint shade of very cute pink, Prompto took a moment to regain coherent thought. “I- uh - well, did you make any of them?”
Ignis chuckled, “No, that was entirely up to the kitchen staff. My skills are mostly for small groups of, say, four.”
“Aw, damn. I like your cooking the best.” He perked up and added hopefully, “A drink sounds good, though - thanks, Specs.”
Ignis inclined his head, his stomach a strangely fluttering mess from the flattering compliment. “It is my pleasure, of course. A rum and coke, I presume?”
“God, you know me so well,” Prompto joked, putting a delicate hand over his chest. Ignis give him another little bow, a tiny smile playing on his lips. He glanced over at Gladio - who was staring at Prompto in entirely, dreadfully obvious desire, and Noctis. Who had apparently truly forgotten how to speak.
“Noctis, would you care for something as well?” Of course Ignis had no need to ask - he knew exactly what Noctis would ask for and when - but he had to do something to get the starstruck Prince to say hello to his best friend, and his crush.
Gladio tore his eyes away from Prompto’s face and surreptitiously poked Noctis in the back, hard - Ignis gave him a grateful smile, on the same page, as always, and somehow managed to not blush himself when Gladio winked at him - to get Noctis to speak.
“ Ow - uh, yeah. Yeah, please,” he mumbled, and Gladio groaned under his breath. Prom smiled, and a blush stole across the Prince’s pale cheeks, and Ignis conceded that, at least, had been some progress. He was loathe to leave just as Noctis was gathering the courage to greet his friend, but the promising glint in Gladio’s eyes told him that they should have at least a moment alone.
Ignis could not resist putting a light hand on Prompto’s arm as he left to fetch them all something to drink, though.
He almost shivered at the touch, and Ignis’ own breath hitched as he gracefully moved away.
So much for not acting like lovesick schoolchildren, he thought, flexing his hand as though something startling hot and electric had passed over his skin.
Noctis hardly noticed when Ignis melted into the crowds around them, hardly noticed when Gladio poked him in the small of his back again - he was definitely going to be bruised - and made some comment about finding Iris, because all Noctis could focus on at the moment was that Prompto had glitter on his cheeks, and in his hair, and on his lips.
On his damn lips.
He barely noticed that Gladio, too, had slipped away.
Damnit , Noct whined, his mouth dry as he watched Prom out of the corner of his eye. Prom really did look like royalty - utterly enchanting as he stared at the spectacle all around him - totally oblivious to the way Noct was staring. Damnit, damnit, damnit.
“Uhm, so…” Prom began, and Noct wished that Ignis would hurry up and get back here before he made a truly royal fool of himself. Visions of tripping over his own shoes, walking into a server, or spilling food down the front of his shirt danced through his head as Prom turned and the lights glittered on face, his shoulders, his collarbones…
Knock it OFF!
“...lending me the card,” Prom was saying. “I thought I might get arrested for carrying it around, though - bet you’d have thought that was funny, huh, buddy?”
Did Prom know just how blue his eyes were? Like, crystal clear blue. Galdin Quay blue. Like, Noct was well-and-truly-lost-and-swimming in those eyes.
Also, he hadn’t realized just how many freckles dotted Prom’s cheeks and arms and over the bridge of his nose before.
Also, he just realized Prom had asked him a question, and was waiting for him to respond.
“Uh,” he stammered, his palms sweaty - why is it so damn hot in here? Maybe it was a good thing Gladio and Ignis were still nowhere to be seen. Before he could rip off his crown - the earrings would have taken too long - and warp out of there, Prom blinked, and started to laugh.
“If you guys were pregaming while I was getting fitted into this ,” and he gestured all up and down his body, and Noct’s head went embarrassingly totally blank for just a moment, “then I’m gonna keep your card for a few more days. It’s only fair,” he added with an impressively haughty air.
Noct’s tongue finally loosened and he laughed, hoping it sounded natural and not at all like I’m in love with my best friend Astrals help me I’m so in love with him . “You drive a hard bargain, Master Argentum,” Noct said, swooping into an over-the-top formal bow, replete with dramatic flourishing hand gestures. He used the time to force his head to get screwed on straight, to take a deep breath and tell himself stop acting like such an idiot he’s your best friend-
But I love him.
Prompto was laughing - doing that stupidly cute giggle-snort that had made Noct scream into his pillow on more than one night - and was blissfully unaware of the storm in Noct’s head. “Oh, whythank you, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum the First,” and copied Noct’s dramatic bow with even more flourishes. “I shall buy the finest chocobo stable in all the land.”
Summoning the best impression of a negotiator - a strange cross between his father and Ignis - Noct straightened even further and clicked his heels together, fighting to keep a smile off his face. “An excellent idea, Master Argentum! When may I come and enjoy a ride with you?”
Noct blanched, the words dying in the air before he could reach out and stuff them back in his mouth.
Are you fucking KIDDING me-
He didn’t notice. Thank all the gods, Prom didn’t notice that truly impressive slip. Thank all the gods Gladio and Ignis hadn’t heard it, either. They’d have never let him live that down. Prom flashed him a devilish smile, jamming his pinky into his glitter-and-freckle covered cheek, and haughtily declared, “Why, only after you pay all the bills, of course!”
They burst out laughing, and not for the first time Noctis marveled at just how natural it felt to laugh with him. How natural and right it was to make him laugh.
Noct watched, a faint smile playing over his lips as Prompto laughed and delicately swiped one finger under his eyes. “Ugh, don’t make me laugh, it took Eirtae so long to do this makeup and I don’t want it to run.”
“You look really amazing, Prom,” Noct said softly, and Prom flashed him a small, nervous smile in return.
Noct’s mouth was still very dry, and his heart thrummed wildly in his chest as Prom fidgeted with his hands and mumbled, “You look good, too.”
For a moment, all that was between them was the music, the laughter and bubbles of conversation of the guests slowly swirling around them. Inches of mere empty space and a sweet silence, and all Noct had to do was open his mouth to say what he’d been thinking, or extend his hand.
Simple things turned into odysseys.
“Wow,” Gladio said with a deadpan expression as he returned. “Seems like we’re missing quite a conversation, Iggy.”
“Quite,” Ignis replied curtly, appearing like mist over Prom’s shoulders. He handed Noct a drink with little more than a raised eyebrow, his mouth curling in a combination of amusement and exasperation. Noct gladly took the distraction, and from over the rim of his glass he watched as Ignis handed Prom a glass with a soft smile and a softer hand on his shoulder.
“What the fuck are you doing, Princess?” Gladio hissed in his ear as Iggy bent closer to Prom, discreetly gesturing to some other noble in the crowd. Judging by the way Prom’s eyes widened and the way he quickly covered up a laugh, it was quite scandalous gossip. “We gave you two time alone, and instead you’re just standing here twiddling your thumbs?”
“I’m trying.”
“Are you? Fuck’s sake, Noct,” and Gladio’s eyes turned softer, more gentle under the fierce iron, “it’s Prom.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Noctis mumbled, Prom’s golden smile and bright blue eyes drawing his gaze once more. “It’s Prom.”
Gladio said nothing for a moment, and then sighed. “If it helps, he’s being just as dense as normal.” He jerked his chin over at the other two - Ignis’ hand was now resting squarely on Prompto’s waist, leaning close and steadfastly gazing at Prom. And Prom…
Noct wanted to scream, or grab Prom’s hand, or kiss him right there in front of everybody - ideally he wanted to do all three, because Prom was apparently oblivious to the way Ignis was leaning close, the possessive hand on his waist. Noct knew that he needed to be upfront, but summoning the courage to do so was like being told to skydive without a parachute.
Gladio and Noct quietly watched as Ignis said something under his breath that made Prom laugh, and then Gladio sighed, a gentle smile skirting over his lips. “It’s a good thing he’s so goddamn pretty.” He jostled Noct’s arm and murmured, “Ask him to dance.”
Noct swallowed, opened his mouth, and-
“Oh, Ari! Eirate!” Prom exclaimed, nearly jabbing Ignis in the stomach in his delighted, frenetic waving.
Noct shut his mouth, and on his other side, Gladio straightened, almost as if he were gearing up for a fight. The Verunas had been tailors to the royal family for generations, Noct himself had been to their strangely shabby little shop on the avenue also named for their family dozens of times, and yet he still always managed to forget just how unnaturally pretty Ari Veruna and his sister, Eirtae, were.
Ari sure as hell hadn’t, judging by the smug look on his face as they greeted the group. Gladio glared at the tailor as Ignis stepped away from Prom, Eirtae coolly regarded all of them with an indifferent bored expression, and Prompto was utterly oblivious to the rising tension as he grinned excitedly at the new arrivals.
“Man, you guys, I’ve been getting compliments on this setup left and right - you sure know your stuff!”
Eirtae smiled at him, inclining her head in thanks as Ari replied with a voice that dripped with charm, “Ah, we did little else but shine a spotlight on what beauty was already there!”
Prompto immediately flushed, and Noctis wanted Prom to look at him that way, so he said the first thing that came into his head - or at least he tried to, but then Prom was looking at him and smiling and Noct suddenly got very hot under the hundreds of lights, and he closed his mouth.
“Oh, come now, Prince Noctis,” Ari Veruna said flippantly, his ice blue eyes issuing the challenge as his voice lowered, “you will have to do much better than that.”
Heat stormed to his cheeks as Noct narrowed his eyes, and Ari smiled. Before Noct could hiss back some decidedly un-Prince-ly words in the tailor’s smug face and ruin generations of patronage, the orchestra began a lively waltz. Ari’s smile deepened before he turned to Prom and asked, ignoring the daggers in Noct’s eyes, if Prom would like to dance once more.
“S-sure! I don’t know the steps all that well, though-”
Ari gave a dramatic little bow. “Never fear, I will take the lead for this one. You’re a fast learner, though, I’m sure you’ll pick it up it no time! Light on your feet and graceful as anything.”
Prompto blushed again, and Noct didn’t even have to glance over at Gladio in order to sense the twitching jealousy radiating off of the Shield.
“Oh, but - pardon me, Prom! Your makeup has smudged ever so slightly. Might I…?” Ari asked with a warm smile, but when his eyes met Noct’s they were completely blase with the Prince, and Noct felt his blood pressure rise to match Gladio’s. Ignis was, as ever, entirely cool - but Noct knew him well enough by now, too.
Prom laughed and angled his face towards Ari’s hands. “Thank goodness for you, Ari. I didn’t want to look sloppy or anything for my first gala.”
Ari tutted slightly as he gently swiped a finger under Prom’s eyes, fixing the smudges with such a practiced hand that Noct was almost impressed. Almost. “Never! We wanted you to shine , and you’ve done so marvelously on your own! Now, almost finished…” He held Prom’s face in his hands, and examined his handiwork.
Prom held still as Ari worked and the only thing Noct could think about was hauling Ari away and fixing Prom’s makeup himself.
“There! Are you ready to dazzle them once more, Master Argentum?” Ari asked, extending his arm towards Prom.
Prom cast a smile back towards the other three, and accepted Ari’s hand.
Gladio, Ignis, and Noct watched as he spun Prom - golden Prom, shining Prom - around in time to the music, and they watched as Ari made him laugh. Eirtae had vanished with another dancer.
Prom and Ari danced by their spot, and Noct fumed in jealousy.
“It’s remarkable,” Ignis mused, and both Gladio and Noct turned to look at him in confusion. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Ari is, well...”
“What?” Gladio asked, taking a long, disgruntled pull from his drink. “Being a gigantic pain in the ass?”
Ignis chuckled softly. “I was going to say ‘baiting us into action.’ Trying to draw out a competition, as it were.”
“For… for Prom?”
“Yes. But as I said, I don’t think that’s-”
The waltz rose to its height and, right in front of them, almost as if he had known what they were discussing, almost as if he had planned it right from the start, Ari spun Prompto around, caught him by the waist, and dipped him in perfect time with the music. Right in front of their little group.
Come on then, boys, Ari’s eyes seemed to say. If you won’t, I will.
It caught Prompto by surprise, and he laughed in delight, his face angled towards the others but not directed at them, and as Prompto laughed Ari raised his eyes, found Noct, Ignis, and Gladio watching stupefied and jealous from the sidelines, and he grinned. This time, there was no mistaking the glint in his eyes.
Gladio’s glass shattered.
Ignis muttered, his voice tight. “It seems I was correct, then.”
And Noct knew he needed to up his game.
He was going to kiss Prom by the end of the night.
Prompto looked up - or was it down? - at the sound of the glass shattering and the surprised cries of the other guests and saw Gladio standing there with a handful of sticky glass, unconcerned with the shards in his hand but glaring at - not Prompto, no, Gladio was glaring at Ari and so were the others and even upside-down Prompto could see the anger in their eyes and suddenly he felt as though he had done something very wrong.
As servants rushed to help Gladio clean up, Ari pulled Prom back up. The tailor immediately noticed the drop in his mood and led him off of the floor, one concerned hand on his back. “Everything all right, Prompto?”
He tried to put on a brave smile but, judging by the look of deepening concern Ari gave him, it was not nearly as brave as he thought. He sighed and fumbled with the hem of his sleeves, waiting just a moment for the lump in his throat to clear before he tried again and said quietly, “I think I need some fresh air, that’s all.”
“Right.” Ari’s concerned look lifted a little, and there was no sign of the playfully smug teasing on his friend’s face anymore. “There is a little balcony off the room here - a lovely view of the city…” He kept up a low murmur of little nothings as he lead Prom to one of the empty open balconies, parting the crowds with ease as they went. A little voice in the back of his head whispered that the Verunas were definitely not of this world, but in the face of his friends’ anger, that mattered little. People parted without Ari having so much to ask, and only when the cool breeze of the night air hit him did Prom realize how hot his cheeks had grown. The city sparkled like a tapestry of diamonds below him, tiny jewels of light moving along their own lives. He was so entranced by the sight, by the distraction, that he barely heard Ari saying he would fetch them a drink.
Prom sat on the bench and leaned against the railing so that he could still see the lights of the city and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Even under the lull of the conversation in the hall, he could still hear the traffic, and it gave him some comfort.
He narrowed his eyes and sniffed, pulling his arms in close as he replayed the dip and the look of anger on his friends’ faces. Maybe he’d committed a serious faux pas, maybe only the royal family was allowed to dance like that, or maybe he was supposed to wait - was there a hierarchy to the order of when people were allowed to dance? He’d messed up, though. There was no doubt about it. Had he embarrassed himself in front of all those rich snobs…?
He sniffed again, keenly aware of the tears pricking the corner of his vision.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t-
“Prom?”
That voice - gentle and hesitant and with the barest hint of perpetual exhaustion - was not Ari’s voice.
He turned to see Noct standing in the threshold between the royal gala and the lonely little balcony, two glasses in hand, a decidedly nervous expression on His Highness’ face. Gladio and Ignis were close behind him, backlit by the glittering lights of the gala. Noct’s eyebrows were pulled up and he was biting his lip in nervousness or worry, Prom couldn’t tell. The expression, whatever it was, deepened when he looked at Prom’s face, and Prom angrily wiped his eyes in the little pocket of awkward silence until Noct spoke again. They all looked worried.
“Uhm. Can I join you?”
Prom blinked, taken aback. “It’s your party, your house, your balcony. Do whatever you want.”
“I won’t if you don’t want me to, Prom.”
“Wh- fine, yeah. Of course.” He made room on the bench, and Noct handed him the second glass without meeting his eyes. Neither of them spoke, and neither of them took a drink, and Prompto hated how awkward it was with every fiber of his being. This was Noct, this was his best friend, and everything was just off and he didn’t know how to fix it.
It lasted for too long, and then the impatience ground too hard on his already sensitive nerves and in a low voice, Prom said, “Well, I hope this whole thing has been funny for you guys.”
“Th- what?”
“This whole ‘invite Prompto to a gala and then ignore him while he makes a full idiot of himself.’ That whole thing.” He didn’t sound quite as ferocious as he’d intended - his voice was a bit too quiet, wavering a bit too close to tears.
“What the hell are you talking about, that’s not-”
He groaned. “Don’t lie to me! You’ve all been acting weird all night! I thought you wanted me to come and hang out… but I should have known better.”
“No - dammit, Prompto, please listen-”
“This was all just a joke, right?” Prompto fought against the lump in his throat, against the tears swimming in his eyes. “You guys just thought it’d be hilarious if I showed up, right?”
“No , we-”
“I mean, I get it! Ha, ha, ha, look at this commoner, he doesn’t know how to make an entrance, or how to dance, or what fork is supposed to be used when! Isn’t it just great, isn’t that just the height of comedy - ”
“That’s not-”
“And you’ve been acting weird, you’re my best friend and you haven’t been talking to me, and I know that you have princely duties or whatever, but come on, dude! I’m out of my depth here and I don’t wanna be the butt of some stupid joke!”
“It’s not a joke.” Noct’s voice was so soft that Prom almost missed it. He fiddled with his hands, took another breath, and murmured, “None of it was ever a joke.”
Prom stared at him, and then at Gladio, and Ignis. Both watching carefully, watching silently.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a small voice thought in wonder how natural it felt, for it to be just the four of them. He pushed on, stammering slightly now with that pleasant thought lodged firmly in his head, “B-but every time I looked over at you guys, you always looked so angry, or annoyed, or whatever, and I just - I wanted to hang out with you guys! But it’s all just been so damn stilted and awkward and I hate it because I can’t help thinking I’ve messed up somehow, put a toe over some archaic rule of high society, because you all just looked so angry every time I looked over at you...” His voice trailed off pathetically, his stomach curdling in embarrassment.
Noct’s expression was pained. “It wasn’t - we weren’t annoyed at you, Prom.” He fiddled with the still-full glass, not quite looking at Prom as he mumbled, “Ari was hogging you.”
“Ari-”
“And goading us,” Gladio muttered, his voice a low bite of annoyance. “He kept flaunting you in front of us.”
Flaunting?
“Besides, you needn’t worry about breaking some unspoken rules today, my darling. You were magnificent.” Ignis said, a tiny gentle smile on his lips, and Prom flushed at the look in his eyes, at the new look in all of their eyes.
Suddenly he was speechless, and his brain felt like mushed goo, because he could see two and two but couldn’t quite manage to put them together because the answer was so incredible, so out-of-this-world wonderful that it couldn’t have been anything but a dream.
Noct must have seen the confusion playing out over his face, because a tiny amused little expression flitted over his lips. “Prom, we were jealous.”
“J-jealous…”
“And it didn’t help that you’re just so goddamned oblivious to everything, either,” Gladio said with exaggerated exasperation. “We’ve been trying to clue you in for, like, months.”
Okay, now Prompto’s brain really wasn’t working. “Clue me in?” he finally squeaked, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer. “To… to what?”
There was a moment of silence, and then:
“Prom, you do know that the three of us are... together, right?” Noct asked, one eyebrow rising in slight disbelief.
“We’ve never been particularly subtle… ” Ignis said with another one of those tiny smiles.
“Subtlety ain’t exactly how we roll, right, Iggy?” Gladio said, and without warning he slapped Ignis’ ass with a wickedly sharp grin at Prompto.
He opened his mouth, and then closed it, as scenes from the last few months started replaying in his head - this time in full, perfect, razor-sharp clarity - as Ignis admonished a still-laughing Gladio. “Oh. Oh. ”
“There it is!” Gladio cheered. Relief clear in his eyes, he winked at Prom. “I knew you’d get there eventually.
“And we’ve been trying to clue you in, because… well…”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. This runaround is ridiculous.” Ignis said in a tone Prompto had never heard before but one that sent a bit of a delicious chill running down his spine. “Prompto, listen to me. We have been trying to determine if you would be comfortable with us. Joining us. We very much would like to have you.”
Gladio winked again.
“Wh- like, all three of you?” Prom’s voice was embarrassingly squeaky, and his cheeks were molten. Ignis raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, as if to say keep going ... “A-all four of us...?”
The only answer he got was Gladio’s rapidly broadening grin, Ignis elegantly readjusting his glasses with a quiet little hum, and Noct… Noct was staring at him so intently that Prom couldn’t quite meet his gaze, and so instead he buried his face in his hands and made another little squeaky meep sound, and then Gladio started to laugh and so did Ignis, even, and Prom started to giggle, too, because never once in his life had he been so incredibly grateful to have been so incredibly wrong about something.
“Prom?” Noct asked. “Is… is that a yes?”
Prom was already kissing him.
He was already kissing Noct.
Kissing Noct was… the giddiness rose up in his stomach and he grinned, and Noct was smiling too, and Noct pulled him close and kept kissing him as Ignis declared matter-of-factly, “Well. That answers that question, doesn’t it?”
Gladio burst out laughing and suddenly both Noct and Prom were being lifted off the ground in a huge bear hug and Prompto - already delirious from everything, from how soft Noct’s lips had been to the declaration to the realization - was almost bowled over by the deep husky scent of Gladio’s cologne and he thought he might die of happiness.
Gladio set them down, a huge smile on his face - Ignis was smiling, too - and clapped his hands as soon as they were free. “Right! Let’s go.”
Ignis shot him an exasperated look before it broke into a fond smile again, and Gladio shrugged, unbothered. The three of them turned towards another door Prom hadn’t seen, one that didn’t lead back into the gala. “What’s that door?”
“The door to the roof.” Noct said simply.
“Why are we…” his voice drifted off as he realized Noct was holding his hand. He stared at in confusion for a moment, and when he looked back up Noct was smiling with utter delight. His eyes could not have more clearly said well, this will be fun, and Prompto couldn’t help the heat rise to his cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time in less than five minutes.
“The roof,” Noct repeated nonchalantly, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world to hold hands.
“The roof?” Prompto repeated. “Right now? But what about the gala?”
Ignis answered that question. “Noctis has finished his duties and is free to retire at any time he so chooses.”
“Yeah, retire,” Gladio emphasized, a devilish glint in his eyes, and that’s when it clicked in Prompto’s head.
“Oh - oh, uh, r-right now?” His head immediately started filling in the blanks of what ‘retiring on the roof’ could mean, and a low, dense sort of heat started to burn, deep in his core.
Noct cocked his head and looked down for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. He squeezed Prom’s hand and asked softly, “Only if you want to-”
“Yes!”
Noct blinked and Gladio burst out laughing, “Alright, I like this guy’s enthusiasm!” Prom didn’t see the friendly slap on his back coming because he had once more buried his face in his hands at the way the assertion had leapt out of his mouth without even a second thought. He stumbled against Noct and, without even thinking about it because it just felt like the natural, right thing to do, he buried his face in Noct’s shoulders and stayed there, and he kept staying there until he felt Noct’s hand hesitantly brush against the small of his back.
Suddenly he realized Ari had never come back, and he looked in towards the hall, trying to scan the crowds to find the tailors, “Oh - I should - say goodbye to Eirtae and Ari-”
Without a word, Gladio picked Prompto up, tossed him over his shoulder, and strode easily towards the stairwell. Noct snorted and even Ignis smiled in fond exasperation as the Shield carried Prom up to the Citadel roof, the lights catching on Prom’s golden clothes and casting them all in warm, fragmented light like a myriad of stars.
Regis sat on a more comfortable chair in the kitchens, rubbing his sore leg as Cook prepared a special late-night meal for him and his retinue. Galas were necessary but always exhausting. As Cook set down the serving platters, he thanked her before turning to Cor and Clarus. “Those tailors that escorted Prompto Argentum in - didn’t the boy look like that man who almost convinced Aulea to marry him, all those years ago?”
Clarus snapped his fingers. “ That’s who he reminded me of! They must have been his children. Gods, but that man was a flirt. What was his name… Art? Ars?”
“Something like that.” Cor took a sip of his wine. “They were announced as the Verunas; they must have inherited the shop from their father.”
Clarus laughed. “I’m surprised the man settled long enough to have two children in the first place.”
“Those genes are certainly very strong. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was him.”
Regis gave a low, hearty chuckle. “I almost wish his father had attended. I’d like to thank him, oddly enough.”
It was silent for a few moments as the three men considered the strange Veruna line, until Clarus raised his glass and asked nonchalantly, “Our sons were a right fuckin’ mess, weren’t they?”
Regis’ laughter boomed throughout the kitchens. “At least they finally figured it out!”
“Ari, all you had to do was tell the little blond one that the others were all besotted with him. That’s it, that’s all you had to do.” Eirtae admonished her older brother as he unlocked the door of their old, not-quite-on-this-plane tailor shop.
“Ahh, but where’s the fun in that?” He replied airily, holding the door wide open for her. “Is it really a job well done if we don’t make at least one party of lovers heartbreakingly jealous enough to prove their true and deep devotion?” He grinned. “Like how we helped dear King Reggie, what, twenty-five years ago? Ugh, human time is so difficult to keep track of.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“All the best love stories need an antagonist, little sister. For honor and glory, and all that.”
Eirtae sniffed, and the lights in the tailor shop flickered, the facade of their shop wavering ever so slightly. “You just like being the center of attention. My methods are much more straightforward.”
“And mine make for better stories.”
Eirtae laughed. “All in a day’s work, I suppose.”
“We are the best in this business for a reason. Sometimes, all they need is a little… push in the right direction.”
Prompto never should have worried that it was a long-con. He never should have even entertained the thought that Noctis would have invited him as a joke-
“You look so fucking good in gold, Prom,” the Prince said in soft wonder, trailing his fingers over the lace that covered Prompto’s collarbones. Prompto shivered when Noct’s hands traced the patterns over his collarbones, and Noct grinned. “Ticklish?”
“N-no,” Prom tried to say, even though it came out in a weird half-strangled whisper.
Over his shoulder, Gladio’s low laugh grumbled in his ear, and Prompto shivered again as Gladio’s lips brushed over the top of his shoulder. “Liar,” Gladio murmured, and Prom melted back against the broad chest of the Shield as Noctis continued to explore the intricate details of the lace against his throat. He could die happy. He could die happy right here, in Gladio’s lap, with Noctis kneeling in front of them. Prom’s head swam at the delicate touches all over his body, the fact that he could feel Gladio’s warm breath on his neck. Noctis’ hands. Noctis’ hands… Gladio’s hands, too, working at finding the edge of his shirt and slipping under, his hand warm against his stomach and Prom couldn’t hide the little keen of pleasure building up in the back of his throat and Gladio gave a low chuckle that Prom could feel rumble in the depths of his bones. “Oh, you’re gonna be a lot of fun, aren’t you, Prom?”
Before he could gather his thoughts enough to respond, another voice interrupted him. “Goodness. Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, are we?”
Prom cracked his eyes open to see Ignis standing over them, smiling, a tray full of drinks in his hands. Ignis set them down on the table and once again Prompto was struck by how graceful Ignis was - every single one of his actions, even if he were simply readjusting his glasses or, hell, even just walking …
It was a night for honesty, for new beginnings, so he decided to say so. “You’re so elegant, Iggy… like a dancer...”
Ignis half turned and just looked at him over the rim of his glasses, and Prom’s stomach flipped. He appraised Prom - askew in Gladio’s lap - and then smiled, a slow, languid, deliberate smile. “And you are simply a delight.” He kept looking at Prom, evidently very keenly aware of what his gaze was doing to Prom. “I am disappointed that I never got the chance to dance with you this evening. Would you indulge me, my dear?”
Ignis offered his hand, and Gladio grunted before his hand slid out from underneath Prom’s shirt and set him on his feet with apparent ease. Gladio pulled Noct onto his lap and then they curled together to watch and Prom was struck, once again, by the fact that they had wanted him. That he was a part of this now.
The thought nearly made him light-headed, but he wasn’t about to pass up on the chance to dance with Ignis.
Prom, flushed and clumsy, took Ignis’ hand - cool and smooth and firm - and Ignis smiled again. “I’ll lead, shall I?”
“G-good call,” Prom mumbled shyly.
And they began to dance, and Prom thought he could hear a ghostly orchestra playing just for them. Ignis’ hold on him was light but steady, and though the little pavilion was mostly protected from the chill of the wind, Prom wanted to step closer to him. They danced in a gradually widening arc across the roof of the Citadel, just the four of them, and Prom’s heart sang in joy.
He wanted to be closer to all of them - he never wanted the night to end-
His world flipped upside down and Gladio and Noct whooped in delight as Ignis held Prom in a low dip for a moment, just long enough for Prom to truly appreciate Ignis’ strength. Without a word, he gracefully pulled Prom upright, a mischievous little smirk on his lips. “I have been wanting to do that for a very long time.”
Prom laughed, and the stars shone with him - golden and glittering against the tapestry of the dark sky.