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do you like or like like me?

Summary:

Prompto’s not stupid enough to think someone as kind, perfect, and selfless as Ignis would ever want anything to do with Prompto in that regard, but he feels like after all this fighting, it’d be silly of him to not try to do something about it.

So, Prompto’s going to tell him -- in any way that he possibly can without scaring Ignis off.

Here goes nothing.

Notes:

My giftee (@roshytsunami on twitter) wanted mutual pining, friends to lovers, character oblivious to being wooed, angst with comfort and happy ending! sooo i managed to write something with all of the above! didn't specify a prompto ship preference, and i know they like promnis at least a little bit, so i defaulted to promnis (again, shocking, i know).

happy holidays, and i hope you enjoy!!!

Work Text:

If Prompto had to pick only one good thing to come out of the entire world going to shit when Noctis went into the crystal, it’d be his growing friendship with Ignis.

Of course, there are actually a lot of good things that Prompto can focus on during this literal dark period in their lives, but Ignis shines the brightest out of all of them.

Prompto only has time to visit Ignis around once a week, sometimes more (those are the good months, obviously), but every time that he does visit, Prompto is very much vehemently reminded of one thing. 

Prompto’s in love with him.

He didn’t realize it the same way he saw those romantic comedies (those very ones that Gladio pretended to hate and Noctis secretly loved), where the main character looks at their love interest and just knows while time stops and romantic music plays.

No, Prompto just realized it one night on their road trip, before the long dark, when Ignis cracked a really bad joke with a wink in his direction and Prompto was done for. Of course, that wasn’t the only thing Ignis had to do. It took years of Prompto pining over his crush on Ignis to realize it was more than just a crush , but they say slow and steady wins the race, after all.

These days (or nights, Prompto should say), when the world is cold and dark, and their king has been gone for a year now, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore his love for Ignis. All it takes is for Ignis to thank him for a helping hand, or a gentle hug once in a while, and Prompto’s nearly moved to tears.

Prompto’s not stupid enough to think someone as kind, perfect, and selfless as Ignis would ever want anything to do with Prompto in that regard, but he feels like after all this fighting, it’d be silly of him to not try to do something about it.

So, Prompto’s going to tell him -- in any way that he possibly can without scaring Ignis off. 

Here goes nothing.

-----

Prompto hums under his breath in the Lestallum market, waiting patiently in line for one of the vendors to return from their product haul. He’s been eyeing these particular products for a while now, inspired by one of the hunters buying flowers for their partner after a particularly long time away. It made him think immediately of Ignis.

Prompto wants to buy Ignis flowers.

Well, you see, when the night is always… night, most flowers don’t exactly enjoy a lack of sunlight. It discouraged Prompto at first, realizing that the only flowers he’d be able to get would be artificial. He supposes that would suffice, seeing as Ignis couldn’t really see them anyway, but artificial flowers pale in comparison to the real thing -- and it’s not like there’s many vendors out here worrying about finding fake flowers to sell. They’re not that comfortable in the long dark yet, after all.

Prompto had no idea that night-blooming flowers were real, if he’s honest. Gladio told him about moonflowers, and Prompto was hooked on the idea of maybe finding some out there in the dark. He hadn’t been very successful, and again, the cause was lost for a while.

That’s until one of the vendors found out that they could sell flowers to cheer people up for quite a lot of money. Prompto took on a few extra hunts, and bam. He’s suddenly got enough for a whole bouquet of big beautiful moonflowers, white as snow.

Prompto beams, continuing to hum as he trades the gil for the bouquet, taking in its light lemon fragrance with a wistful sigh. 

“Thanks,” the vendor says to him. “Special occasion, Prompto?”

Prompto nods. “Yep! They’re for one of my best buddies.”

With that, Prompto heads to Ignis’s tiny apartment in Lestallum (more of a room and a kitchen than anything else in these desperate times), with a pep in his step. His heart races in his chest at the thought of giving these to Ignis, but it’s almost in a good way. The kind of anxiety you get when you finally beat a tough video game boss or ride a rollercoaster.

Prompto knocks on Ignis’s door before making his way inside with the key Ignis gave him a while back. Ignis is sitting on the couch when Prompto walks in, and Prompto can’t resist a smile at the look of pleasant surprise that colors Ignis’s features.

“Prompto, is that you?” Ignis asks, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Uh huh!” Prompto says, toeing his boots off at the door before hurrying to sit next to Ignis. “Just like I promised.”

“You’re earlier than I was expecting,” Ignis murmurs, reaching for his visor on the coffee table. 

Ignis always puts his visor on whenever Prompto’s around. Prompto wishes he wouldn’t; Ignis’s eyes -- and the scars that go with -- are far too pretty to be covered like that. Prompto can understand Ignis being insecure in public, and wanting to protect himself during hunts, but Prompto can’t understand why he insists on doing it when it’s just Prompto around.

“Sorry, is that a bad thing? I got the thing I wanted quicker than I expected,” Prompto says worriedly. “You don’t gotta put that on, Iggy.” Prompto reaches out to grip Ignis’s wrist with the hand that isn’t nervously clutching flowers.

Ignis sighs, ceasing his attempt to reach for the visor in favor of holding Prompto’s hand. “Apologies, old habits. Of course it isn’t a bad thing. I’m honored to receive as much time with you as I can.”

Prompto can’t help but overthink that. Then again, when you’re in love with someone, everything they say sort of sounds like magic. Ignis has always sounded like magic to him, even if he’s just asking for a favor or talking about one of his recipes. Ignis himself is magic, really. 

Prompto loves him so much.

Has he mentioned that before?

“I am too, Iggy,” Prompto says softly, hoping it doesn’t come on too strong.

The corners of Ignis’s mouth turn up into a heart-wrenchingly beautiful smile. “And what is it that you were so pressed to purchase today?”

Prompto starts to grin. “Thought you’d never ask!” he exclaims in a singsong voice.

Prompto opens Ignis’s fingers with the hand that’s holding his. “Open your hands a little more?”

Ignis nods, uncurling his fingers from Prompto’s so that he can prepare himself for whatever Prompto is about to hand him. Prompto presses the stems of the bouquet into Ignis’s palm and wraps his fingers around them.

Confusion colors Ignis’s features for a brief moment as he runs the fingers on his free hand along the stem. The confusion slowly starts to fade from his face as his fingers move upward to brush along the huge petals of the moonflowers. The more Ignis touches, the less confused he seems. A tiny smile starts to spread on his face, and Prompto’s heart absolutely soars.

“Flowers,” Ignis says finally. “You wanted flowers?”

“Well, I mean…” Prompto lets out a nervous laugh, “not really for me, but for you, Igster! I--I know you can’t see ‘em, but like, it’s the thing to do, right? Like, ‘hey, sorry for being away so much’, ‘hey, I miss you’, or…” Does he dare say it? Yes, he does. “...‘I love you.’ That kinda thing. They’re moonflowers! Big and white and, well, they smell kinda good, too--”

Ignis’s smile is bigger than Prompto has seen in such a long time. He leans in to take in the scent of the flowers, and nods. “Moonflowers. They’re lovely little things, aren’t they?” he says. “You purchased them… for me?”

Prompto nods, and then internally chastises himself for doing that in front of his blind friend, again. “Yeah! Of course! I’ve been wanting to. Do you… do you like them? Did I make you uncomfy?”

“They’re wonderful. I love them,” Ignis promises, a bit touched. “Nothing you could ever do would make me uncomfortable. I’m honored you wished to liven up the place in such a way.”

Prompto’s smile wavers just a bit. They’re not a housewarming gift, not by any means, but if that’s how Ignis wants to take them, then he supposes he’s okay with that. Sort of.

“I’m glad you like them,” Prompto says quietly. “I hoped you would…”

“Is something the matter, Prompto?” Ignis asks.

Prompto stares at Ignis, holding the pretty bouquet in his hand. If this exchange had gone differently, Prompto would’ve been able to take one of those flowers and put it in Ignis’s pretty ash blonde hair. Still, this would suffice -- it would have to. It’s not like Prompto expected Ignis to say something like, ‘ I love you, too.’

“Not at all,” Prompto lies, and falls even deeper, if possible.

-----

If flowers won’t do the trick, then maybe treating Ignis would. Prompto’s probably the first person to know how hard Ignis works all of the time. If Prompto can give him a break from that, even if for a day, then he considers it a success.

(Ignis would only agree to one day off, anyway. Prompto’s tried. Several times.)

After that glorious day of Ignis relaxing and pampering himself, Prompto’s going to head home and give Ignis the best dinner date of his life. Of course, on Prompto’s end, it’d be a date date. On Ignis’s, probably just their usual friendly dinner, but… Prompto has to try something.  

Prompto spends the entire day cooking and cleaning in Ignis’s workplace to the best of his ability. He’s certain some of the hunters are complaining about how crappy the food is today compared to Ignis’s, but oh well, Prompto can take it. He knows he’ll never be as good at cooking as Ignis, despite how much Ignis has taught him over the years.

By the time he’s finished, he almost wants to lie down on the ground right in the middle of Lestallum and sleep for another year. He doesn’t know how Ignis can do this every day, if he’s honest. Ignis never even seems tired, or at least he doesn’t show it much; either way, it’s impressive as hell. Ignis is always putting on a mask for others. He wonders just how much Ignis goes through that he doesn’t talk about. Prompto aches to find out.

Pushed from his thoughts, Prompto bids goodbye to everyone at the kitchens, and starts to gather some ingredients. As long as he doesn’t take too much, he can take whatever he wants. He looks up the ingredients to Ignis’s favorite seafood risotto he has written on his phone, and takes what he can.

Prompto hurries home so that Ignis doesn’t start making dinner without him. He told Ignis not to already, but Ignis usually gets worried and ends up making it anyway. Prompto smiles at the thought; Ignis is so caring.

Prompto knocks on the door once more before unlocking it.

“Knock knock,” Prompto calls cheerfully as he heads to the kitchen to set the paper bags down. “You didn’t start makin’ food, did ya?”

“No, I resisted this time, per your request,” Ignis calls from the couch. He turns his head toward the sound of the paper bags rustling on the counter as Prompto unpacks the ingredients. “Have you brought something home?”

“Duh! Had to get all the right stuff,” Prompto says with a smile. 

He unpacks a candle as well, placing it in the middle of the table to create the proper romantic atmosphere. He strikes a match to light it, and Ignis stands up.

“Are you lighting something on fire?” Ignis asks, his amused tone slightly tinged with worry.

Prompto snorts. “I’m an adult, Igster, I can handle some matches. They’re just candles, don’t worry,” he says. He shakes the match when the candles are lit. “No more fire, don’t crap yourself.”

“I’ll try to resist,” Ignis teases. “Candles? What for?”

“It sets the mood, duh,” Prompto says as he starts to prepare ingredients in the saucepan according to his phone notes. “Gotta get this just right.”

“The mood?” Ignis hovers over the table, holding his hand over the flame of the candle. “Is there a special occasion that I’ve forgotten about?”

Prompto laughs nervously as he starts stirring the vegetables, oil, and rice in the saucepan, deliberately avoiding looking at Ignis. It’s not as if he can say, ‘ Yeah, sure, the occasion is that I love you and I want you to know.’

“We’re the occasion,” Prompto declares. He puts on his brave face, taking a deep breath. “Like, can’t a dude show he cares?”

Ignis tilts his head curiously. “Well, yes, but usually…” He purses his lips. “Is anything wrong?”

Prompto raises his eyebrows as he starts adding the seafood to his concoction. “Of course not. I’m… this is cool, right? Did I upset you?”

Ignis’s face smooths out, and his lips part with slight surprise. It’s not often that Ignis is so expressive, and Prompto sort of feels like he’s witnessing a space alien or something. Ignis feels around the table so he can enter the kitchen swiftly, walking up next to Prompto. He reaches out, fingers brushing along Prompto’s shoulder until they make their way up his neck and finally to his chin. He grips it delicately between his fingers, and Prompto’s knees absolutely go weak.

“Of course I’m not upset,” Ignis says softly. “This is all a wonderful gesture, Prompto. I’m afraid I’m not used to people being kind just for the sake of being kind, I suppose. At least until I met you.”

Prompto reaches up to grip Ignis’s wrist holding his chin. He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining what it’d be like if Ignis leaned in and kissed him. He opens them, feeling a little foolish. 

“You deserve a break, Iggy, and I… I wanna show you how much I… care,” Prompto forces out the last word, wishing he had the courage to say what he’s really thinking: to show how much I love you.

Ignis releases his grip on Prompto’s chin, then. He tilts his head curiously again -- it’s always a gesture that makes Prompto feel like Ignis really can see him, which is stupid considering he can’t. Ignis has always been so inquisitive, though -- he never really needed eyesight to be as observant as he is. 

A beautiful smile blooms on Ignis’s face. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you, Prompto? I do hope you didn’t feel obligated to do all of this.”

Prompto’s heart sinks. Ignis thinks he’s doing this because Prompto feels guilty. Man, Prompto must be the worst at throwing hints ever, apparently -- or Ignis is just bending over backwards to avoid rejecting Prompto’s feelings.

Either way, it kinda hurts.

Prompto exhales the sad emotions, blinking away a tiny bit of tears, and throws his arms around Ignis. He laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound as watery as it feels. “I don’t feel obligated at all. I really wanted to do this. It’s my treat, dude!”

Nailed it. He doesn’t sound like he’s about to burst into tears from heartache at all.

Ignis hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around Prompto in return. He pats Prompto’s back soothingly, and a deep chuckle leaves Ignis’s lips that sends a shiver down Prompto’s spine.

“Well, I have some wine chilling. We ought to make a true occasion of this, then,” Ignis murmurs. “Thank you for this. Truly. I haven’t the words.”

Prompto sighs -- he wishes he hadn’t the words, to be honest. He has words, plenty of them, three of them, in fact. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“That sounds perfect,” Prompto says wistfully, not letting go of Ignis for a moment.

The risotto starts to make an angry sizzling noise on the stove, and Prompto jumps. “Oh, crap!” he yelps, disentangling himself from Ignis to salvage whatever is left of the risotto. He turns the heat down, immediately lifting the saucepan and stirring it. He blows out a sigh of relief when it seems to be undamaged. “Whew. Close one.”

Ignis lets out another fond chuckle as he steps around Prompto to feel for the refrigerator door. He pulls out the bottle of some kind of white wine, and Prompto watches in a bit of awe out of the corner of his eye as Ignis opens the bottle with a corkscrew effortlessly without even seeing it. Prompto can’t even open a bottle of wine that fast and he can see.

Prompto finally adds the last bit of herbs, garlic, and butter to the risotto once it’s done cooking as Ignis pours two glasses of wine.

Prompto purses his lips as Ignis seems to know exactly when to stop pouring despite not being able to see it. 

“How do you know when to stop?” Prompto asks curiously as he takes the saucepan off of the heat for the final time.

Ignis smiles in Prompto’s direction. “I can feel the chill of it on the glass,” he answers simply, as if Prompto asked for the time of day. “It’s amazing what one can teach oneself to do when necessary.”

Prompto nods to himself. “Huh. Yeah, guess so.” He turns the heat off, brushing his hands on his pants. “Think this is done.”

“It smells marvelous,” Ignis says softly, and extends his hand with a wine glass out to Prompto.

Prompto can’t help but smile as he takes the glass, selfishly allowing their fingers to brush longer than necessary. He’s about to take the glass to his lips when he sees Ignis extend his own glass in Prompto’s direction pointedly.

“To us,” Ignis says softly, clearly wanting to toast. 

Prompto’s heart feels a little funny at the declaration. He gently touches his glass to Ignis’s. “Yeah. To us.”

“May we always find our way back to each other, no matter what,” Ignis continues, and then brings the wine to his lips.

Prompto almost wants to complain. How can one person be so unintentionally charming? How is Prompto supposed to not be in love, when Ignis says things like that?

Prompto can’t help but smile, though. Just because this didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to, doesn’t mean they don’t mean a lot to each other.

“Always.”

-----

Ignis styles his own hair these days. Back when Ignis first went blind, Prompto, Gladio, and Noctis would take turns helping him style it. Prompto, selfishly, would offer to do it more than the rest. 

It has absolutely nothing to do with how soft Ignis’s hair is, or how close he gets to be to him and his handsome features. Nothing at all.

This morning, however, Ignis is late for work, and Prompto all but jumped at the chance to offer. It’s been far too long since he’s been able to touch those gorgeous locks of Ignis’s, and he grins when Ignis agrees with a fond sigh.

Prompto hops up on the bathroom counter, swinging his legs casually as he wets his fingers and props the hair gel near the sink.

“C’mere, Prompto’s gonna take real good care of ya,” Prompto says teasingly, reaching out to grip Ignis’s arm to pull him closer to the sink.

Ignis’s cheeks are already touched with pink -- Prompto knows he’s a pretty shy dude -- but the reluctant smile that spreads on his face is priceless.

“You know, it makes me nervous when you refer to yourself in the third person,” Ignis declares as he takes a step toward the sink.

Prompto tries not to focus on the fact that Ignis is practically standing between his legs, but it’s a little difficult when he’s this close. Prompto just wants to stretch his legs out and lock them around Ignis’s waist, but he’s very, very certain that would not go over well at all.

“Don’t be nervous,” Prompto says, smirking as he reaches out to run his fingers through Ignis’s locks. He resists the urge to sigh longingly when the soft strands of hair touch him. “We used to do this all the time.” 

He slicks Ignis’s hair back with water just slightly, using a comb to style it perfectly into place. Ignis laughs a bit, and Prompto almost swears he’s hallucinating Ignis leaning into the touch.

“I’m aware. I almost miss it,” Ignis says, smirking a bit. “ Almost.”

Prompto sucks in a breath through his teeth, hissing as he pretends to wince. “Ouch, dude.” He tries to calm his racing heart at the sight of Ignis’s alluring smile at close range, but it’s difficult. “Breakin’ my heart, here.”

“My apologies,” Ignis says with amusement.

“That’s okay, I know a handsome fella like you doesn’t want my li’l goblin hands all in your hair,” Prompto says, only half-joking.

Prompto reaches for the hair product as soon as he gets Ignis’s pompadour to a decent enough volume. He pours some in his hands, just enough to keep Ignis’s hair looking pristine all day. He returns his fingers to Ignis’s scalp, gently running the product from root to tip. 

Ignis’s scalp is so warm, Prompto wants to bury his face in his hair and never leave, basically. Just take up residence there, curl up on his chest like a cat. It’s a little sad, but he can’t help it.

“Now, now, stop that,” Ignis says with a frown after a moment. “I’m nothing of the sort, and you’re wonderful for doing me such a kind favor.”

Prompto’s fingers still in Ignis’s hair for a moment, completely shocked. Nothing of the sort? Not handsome? Prompto seriously feels like he’s in an alternate universe. How the hell does Ignis not know he’s the hottest thing on two legs?

“You kiddin’ me?” Prompto asks, laughing a little nervously as he realizes he’s treading from ‘no homo’ to ‘full homo’ territory. “I know you can’t look in a mirror anymore, but damn, dude. Guys like you shouldn’t be insecure. You’re so handsome, Igster.”

Prompto continues to style Ignis’s hair, not wanting to be weird about it. He uses the comb with one hand and his fingers with the other, making sure the product spreads evenly and does its job. 

Ignis waves him off. “You’re very kind, but no need for pity today. I’m certain I’m a right horror these days.”

Prompto tilts his head confusedly, eyebrows shooting up. He knows it’s hard for Ignis, because he never got the chance to know what his pretty scars look like on his face, but there’s no way Prompto can let this slide. He has to let Ignis know how beautiful he is, especially to Prompto.

It’s time to floor it into ‘full homo’ territory, apparently.

“Pity? Holy shit, dude, you’re…” Prompto lifts the comb away from Ignis’s head, pulling his hands back slowly so the hairstyle doesn’t sully. He swings his legs faster nervously. “You are seriously the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. Hands down.”

Ignis’s cheeks, faded pink now, bloom into a much darker shade at the compliment. Ignis ducks his head as if avoiding Prompto’s gaze, despite not being able to see him at all. 

“Including Cindy?” Ignis teases, though his voice is low, full of an emotion that Prompto can’t seem to identify correctly.

Prompto’s heart nearly stops. “Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s not you, dude. And I meant what I said.” He sighs out all of his nervous energy -- or at least tries to. “Prompto is many things, but a liar is not one of ‘em.”

“Third person again, hmm?” Ignis asks. He seems to have recovered slightly, head lifted again, the flush on his cheeks fading once more. “Prompto is also very charming, and far too kind to his friends.”

Disappointment floods through Prompto despite thinking he was prepared for the rejection. Friends. Yep, that’s what they are. Friends. Prompto calls his friends perfect all the time! Sort of. Kind of. Not really.

“...And cute as a button.”

Prompto freezes. He drops the comb on the counter, and it scatters loudly into the sink. The silence between them is so loud, it’s deafening , and Prompto feels as if he might collapse in the tactician’s arms. 

“I, oh, I--”

“Excuse me, Prompto, but I must be off. I’m running late as it is.” Ignis takes a step back. “Is it finished?”

Prompto swallows, not quite processing what just happened combined with Ignis’s desire to make a break for it. “Yeah, you’re-- you’re good, you’re great.”

“Grand. You have my thanks, Prompto. I shall see you in a bit?”

Prompto places his hands on the counter, steadying himself as he sits there, wide-eyed. “Yep! For sure!”

Prompto watches Ignis turn heel quickly and leave, and he tries to pick up the pieces of his fickle heart off the floor. 

Friends. They’re friends.

How long can Prompto handle it, though?

-----

Prompto, as it turns out, really can’t handle it. Because of Prompto’s ill-fated romance attempts to woo Ignis, they’re even closer than before. There’s a weird tension between them, and Prompto could be imagining it, but he doesn’t really think so.

It’s time to crack down. Full Prompto Romance Mode.

If Ignis has any interest, if Prompto has any hope of sharing his feelings with Ignis, he’s got to get Ignis to budge. Prompto needs to ask Ignis what he’d do if he were Prompto. If Ignis suggests spilling his feelings, then Prompto is going to do it. There’s no going back now. Ignis is kind enough to politely reject him. At least he’ll know for sure.

Prompto parks the truck he borrowed from Cindy outside of Lestallum after their hunt together. They’re alone, Ignis sitting quietly in the passenger’s seat, and it’s the perfect opportunity to bring something like this up with Ignis’s full attention and no one else. Not to mention the fact that Prompto’s adrenaline is already through the roof after battling tons of a daemons, so what does he have to lose?

You know, other than his love and friendship with someone who means the world to him. No big deal.

“So, uh, Iggy, before we head inside, I wanted to kinda ask you somethin’,” Prompto says, hoping his voice isn’t going to start wavering already. That’d be pathetic.

Ignis turns his head in Prompto’s direction, eyebrows shooting up from behind his visor. “Yes? Is something the matter? Are you injured?”

Not physically, at least. Prompto reaches out to place a comforting hand on Ignis’s knee. “No, no, nothin’ like that, man! I just wanted some advice, and I figured it’d be best when we’re alone, I dunno. We don’t gotta if you’re busy or wantin’ to get rid of me or anything like that.”

Ignis’s leg muscle involuntarily twitches underneath Prompto’s touch. He makes no move to remove Prompto’s hand, so Prompto assumes it’s safe to keep there.

“Of course not. We may talk about anything you’d like. What is it that you need my advice on, Prompto?” 

Prompto metaphorically shakes out his nervous energy. This is it. “Um, well, have you… ever liked someone? Like, more than a friend?”

The atmosphere between them shifts, though Prompto’s pretty sure it’s just his nervous imagination. Ignis closes his mouth, smoothing out the surprised expression into something weirdly neutral. It reminds Prompto of the look Ignis would get when he was trying to outsmart a dignitary or something in a meeting. His ‘all business Ignis’ face.

Prompto doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Yes, I suppose I have,” Ignis says softly. “Is… there a problem?”

Prompto’s brow furrows with confusion. He snorts despite his nerves. “No? Wait, no, of course not. Why would that be a problem?”

Prompto, meanwhile, starts to worry. Who was it that Ignis liked? Does he still like that person? What if it’s Gladio, or Noct? Not that Prompto could blame him, their friends are perfect, but Prompto can’t help but let fickle jealousy squeeze his heart annoyingly.

“I’m uncertain,” Ignis admits, and he huffs out a chuckle, but it’s just as nervous as Prompto’s, confusingly enough. “What is it, then?”

“Like, when you like someone, and it gets real bad, you… you should tell them, right?” Prompto swallows nervously.

“I suppose that would make sense, yes. It’s best to air out those feelings.” Ignis still remains that painful neutral. “Why do you ask? Are you feeling this way?”

Prompto nods to himself. “Right. Yeah. Well, see, I like someone, and… we’re close enough, yeah, but like, I’m scared.” He lets out another laugh. “I know, that’s normal, and stuff. But, like, what if I ruin it? What if we’ll never be this close again?”

“Ah, I see.” Ignis’s lips are pursed into a thin line. “This person isn’t aware?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to make them aware, y’know. I’ve been goin’ outta my way, puttin’ on my best flirty vibes…” Prompto throws finger guns at absolutely no one. “But they don’t seem to get it. Maybe it’s ‘cause they’re just trying to let me down easy, I dunno. You’re the smartest guy I know. Help me, Ignis Scientia, you’re my only hope.”

Ignis laughs at this, and despite how tense it sounds, it seems a bit calmer than before. “Are you being explicit enough? It doesn’t appear that they’re picking up on things, unless they are purposely ignoring them.”

“I’m bein’ pretty obvious, y’know. As obvious for me, at least. I buy stuff for ‘em, do stuff for ‘em, compliment ‘em…” Prompto doesn’t want to say all the specific things he’s done -- it’d reveal himself for certain. He looks over at Ignis worriedly, but Ignis doesn’t seem appalled, so he figures it’s safe. “What would you do, if you were me?”

Ignis’s facade falters for a tiny moment, and he frowns before reeling it in. Prompto wonders if he’s being too obvious and making Ignis feel uncomfortable with all his dumb romantic feelings. He hopes not.

Ignis reaches down to cover Prompto’s hand with his own, and Prompto relaxes a little. If Ignis is uncomfortable, he’d definitely not do that. He squeezes Prompto’s hand reassuringly.

“If it were me… well, I must admit that it is rather difficult to say such things to someone you feel close to. It’s a bit terrifying to fear ruining a friendship, but if these kinds of feelings would ruin a friendship, I’d like to think the friendship isn’t as strong as it could be. No offense to your… infatuation.” Ignis sighs gently, tiredly. “Ultimately, however, it sounds as if you’re tormenting yourself over this. I would recommend telling Cindy, or whomever. Being straightforward is best.”

Prompto feels tears well up in his eyes as soon as Ignis mentions Cindy. He doesn’t want it to be himself. Got it. “Right, straightforward, yeah.” Prompto removes his hand from Ignis’s, not wanting to burst into tears at the tender touches. “Like, just… go out and say it, right?”

Ignis’s lips purse tensely again. “Precisely.”

“You mean, like… Ignis, I love you,” Prompto whispers, the words feeling so good to say despite knowing they’ll fall on deaf ears. “Like that?”

Ignis is quiet for a moment, and he tilts his head softly. “Yes, something like that ought to work quite well. Are we close enough for me to ask who it is that you are infatuated with?”

Prompto wants to bash his head against the steering wheel and pray for sweet release. He holds his breath for a moment before letting it all out in a dramatic sigh. “We’re close, yeah, we’re… really close, um. Can I tell you when I work up the courage to do it?”

Ignis nods, looking away from Prompto. “Of course. I didn’t intend to pry.”

“No!” Prompto shouts worriedly, far louder than necessary for the conversation. He reaches over and grabs Ignis’s hand again, despite his best interests. “You’re never prying. You’re seriously so important to me. Like, the most important. I promise.”

Ignis smiles, but sadly. Shit. “And you to me, as well.”

Of course when Prompto tries to tell Ignis about his feelings, it ends up backfiring and making Ignis think he’s not important. Of course that would happen, only to Prompto.

Prompto resists the urge to let Ignis out and back the truck up over a cliff. He’s got to fix this, and fast. “Can I stay over?” 

Ignis squeezes his hand. “You needn’t ever ask.”

Prompto’s got one more shot for this. Maybe Prompto can fix this with time.

-----

Prompto takes the bed on the pullout couch after much insisting. Ignis eventually gave in, only because Prompto threatened to sleep on the floor instead. Ignis asked no more than three more times if he’d change his mind before eventually bidding Prompto goodnight and left to go to his bedroom.

Prompto misses Ignis as soon as he leaves, pathetically enough. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to Ignis about the misunderstanding in the car earlier. By the time they both cleaned themselves up from the hunt, they were dog tired.

In the morning -- Prompto will explain everything in the morning.

Prompto tosses and turns on the uncomfortable couch bed. He tries his stomach, and thinks about Ignis. He turns to his side, and finds Ignis invading his thoughts there, as well. Lying on his back is uncomfortable and impossible, so he sits up, blowing his bangs out of his eyes.

Prompto heads into the kitchen to maybe fix a cup of tea. Ignis has gotten him hooked on tea -- and Ebony, to be honest -- and Prompto finds that sometimes tea can help ease him into sleep. Insomnia is almost guaranteed -- at least for Prompto -- during this long dark. It messes with his internal clock so badly.

Prompto’s sorting through Ignis’s tea selection when he hears Ignis yell all the way from the bedroom. It’s a soft whimper of a, “no,” but it’s loud enough to Prompto in the heavy silence of the kitchen.

Prompto drops the tea on the counter and races into Ignis’s room, wondering if Ignis is in pain. Maybe he fell or tripped over something. Prompto’s heart pounds.

“Iggy?” Prompto whispers, and finds that Ignis is fast asleep in bed, but not comfortably.

Ignis is having a nightmare. He tosses and turns in the bed, his mouth turned into a frown, and gentle whimpers leave his lips. Prompto’s heart aches for an entirely different reason, and he immediately surges forward and perches himself on the other side of Ignis’s bed. 

Prompto puts a hand on Ignis’s shoulder. “Iggy. Hey, buddy, c’mon. Time to wake up.”

Ignis stirs immediately, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. He seems dazed for a bit, until he tilts his head toward Prompto’s hand on his shoulder.

“Prompto?” Ignis calls out, voice surprisingly quiet and vulnerable.

“Yeah, of course, silly,” Prompto says with a soft laugh. “You were having a bad dream, I think.”

Ignis swallows, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before placing it on top of Prompto’s. “Yes. Apologies if I woke you.”

“No, I was already up. Can’t sleep,” Prompto murmurs. “Can I…?”

Prompto looks at the bed, scooting a little closer. 

Ignis’s answer is immediate. “Please.”

Prompto withholds his sigh of relief and lies in the bed next to Ignis. He curls up on his side to face him, throwing his arm entirely around Ignis. He rests his head on Ignis’s chest, and for a moment, it almost feels like he could have this-- like Ignis is touchable somehow. Prompto can hear Ignis’s racing heartbeat through his chest. Ignis wraps his arms around Prompto slowly, his fingers finding Prompto’s hair and gently caressing.

Prompto closes his eyes, trying so hard not to just tell him how much he loves him. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

Ignis sighs. “It was about Noct again. I was too late to save him.”

Prompto bites his lip. It makes sense. Noctis is a huge hole in all of their hearts right now. Prompto, though, can’t help but wonder if that’s who Ignis was referring to when he said he liked someone earlier. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Iggy,” Prompto promises. “He’ll come back to us.”

“Mmm.” There’s a beat of silence as Ignis continues to stroke his hair. Prompto could fall asleep like this, he swears it. “Thank you.”

Prompto lifts his head in confusion for a moment, before Ignis’s fingers relax him into lying back down against him. “What for?”

“For coming in here, and… being here,” Ignis admits, an edge to his tone -- probably from the stress of the dream.

Prompto doesn’t have the courage to tell Ignis that he’d be there for him no matter what, if only he asked. “I’m always here. I’m happy to be,” Prompto says softly. He starts playing with a loose thread on Ignis’s shirt. “You know me. I’m a snuggler.”

“One of the things I love -- and miss dearly -- about you.”

The admission is so unexpected that Prompto has to force himself not to look up at him again. “What?”

Ignis swallows thickly once again, and Prompto almost thinks he might cry until he smiles. “It’s nice to feel you close again. You are very dear to me, you know.”

It’s Prompto who wants to cry now. Don’t say it, don’t say it. He might never hold you again, Prompto. Don’t say it. 

“Same,” Prompto says instead, the word falling flat in comparison to his real feelings. “You’re the best, Igster.”

You’re the best? Prompto wants to roll out of the bed and off a cliff. He might as well have held up a banner that says, ‘Congratulations! I’m terrified of emotional intimacy because of my dumb feelings for you!’

“Mmm. I’m very grateful for our friendship,” Ignis whispers finally.

Prompto’s heart sinks, even though he knows he deserved that one after the lame response he gave Ignis prior. He nuzzles into Ignis’s chest, trying not to cry out of frustration alone.

“Yeah… it’s perfect, huh?” Prompto squeaks weakly.

Prompto has no idea why his life isn’t like one of those beautiful romantic movies. He gets to hold the love of his life like this, and has nothing to show for it.

-----

Prompto knows that this time, he’s just got to say it. No flowers, no parlor tricks, no handwritten notes with ‘do you ‘like’ or ‘like like’ me?’ written on them. None of that, now.

Prompto’s got to tell Ignis he loves him. He really can’t take the not knowing part of this thing, he’s never been good with secrets, and he’s got so much love to give Ignis he feels like he might burst from it all.

Prompto walks through Lestallum with Ignis, their arms hooked together to keep Ignis from tripping on anything, as he left his cane back in the apartment. He wonders what the best way to do it is. While they’re having a bite to eat? While they’re walking? After they get back home?

Prompto waits for inspiration to strike. He wants it to hit him in the face like one of those dumb romances. 

Prompto shares a bite to eat with Ignis, enjoying the company, when Prompto’s phone rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, blondie,” Gladio’s voice greets him. “Long time no talk. What’s up?”

“Having a bite with Iggy. It’s good to hear from you,” Prompto says with a smile.

“Oh, good, you guys are together. You married yet?” Gladio teases.

“Gladio,” Prompto hisses. Gladio is, of course, the recipient of all of Prompto’s pining, so he supposes Gladio has a right to tease, but just not now. “ What’s up with you?”

“Yeah, so, there’s a couple of red giants threatening to tear up a few power lines outside of Lestallum. Nothing huge, but a pain in the ass to fix. Wanted to take care of it before it did damage, but another one cropped up, so I need some help,” Gladio says. “Down for a little reunion?”

Prompto nods. “Sure thing, dude. Don’t do anything dumb ‘til I get there, big guy.”

“You takin’ Iggy? Could use his magic, won’t lie.”

Prompto glances up at Ignis worriedly, who has his head tilted curiously in Prompto’s direction.

“I’ll see if he’s up for it,” Prompto says. “See you in a sec. Text me the location.”

“Got it. See ya.”

Prompto hangs up, and sighs. “So… looks like I gotta cut this short and help Gladio with some red giants.”

Ignis doesn’t even hesitate before saying, “I’m coming with you.”

Prompto can’t help but laugh. “Guess I can’t stop you. But you gotta keep yourself safe.”

Ignis smirks. “I’m already keeping you lot safe, how much more do you want from me?”

Prompto grins. “You got me there.”

Thankfully, red giants are predictable. When Prompto drives Ignis to meet up with Gladio, they’re just sort of roaming in the same general area endlessly. They’re huge, and pack a hell of a punch, but they’re also really slow to pack them. Prompto’s good with slow, and so is Ignis. They’re too fast for them to catch up. Gladio, well, he’s slower, but he makes up for it with strength. Prompto’s glad to watch his back always.

It’s a fight that starts like any other. Ignis summons frost daggers, while Gladio already has his broadsword ready. Prompto makes sure his guns are loaded with the elementally enhanced bullets that he made with Ignis. An extra kick of frost magic would knock those red giants flat in no time. 

It isn’t until Ignis overcompensates to make up for Gladio’s slower speed that Prompto sees the red giant winding to strike, two of them nearly cornering Ignis. Ignis neatly backflips out of harm’s way, only for a third to take Ignis by surprise.

“Iggy!” Prompto shouts worriedly from the sideline. He nearly drops his guns in favor of charging at Ignis full speed.

He pushes Ignis out of the way just in time for the red giant to strike Prompto instead.

“Prompto! No!” Ignis yells.

Prompto hears his body hit the ground faster than he feels it. Something is definitely broken, he just doesn’t know what. He can feel the warmth of his own blood trickle out of his nose. 

“Fuck,” Prompto groans.

Gladio’s already taken down one of the red giants by the time Prompto hits the ground, but it’s clear that Gladio is struggling even through Prompto’s hazy vision.

“Iggy! I need you!” Gladio reminds Ignis.

Ignis seems torn for several moments before repeatedly throwing his frost daggers at the second red giant. Prompto fires a few shots while Gladio strikes the red giant from behind, and it takes down the second one.

Prompto coughs, and tastes the metallic sting of blood. 

“Prompto?” Ignis yells worriedly from the battlefield, hearing Prompto immediately.

“‘M okay,” Prompto says weakly. “Got it on its last legs, Iggy!”

Prompto fires a shot, hitting the red giant directly in its vulnerable spot on the head. Prompto smiles, dropping the gun, too weak to hold onto it any longer. Gladio takes a swipe of the red giant while it’s preoccupied.

“I got this, go get him,” Gladio says to Ignis.

Ignis nods and tosses daggers at the giant, but crosses the battlefield quickly, right over to Prompto.

“Prompto, where are you?” Ignis calls out desperately.

“I’m right--” Prompto coughs again, “--here.”

Ignis kneels down beside Prompto, arms slipping underneath him. Pain erupts through Prompto’s entire body as he winces, but he doesn’t dare complain. If this is the end, he wants to spend it as close to Ignis as possible. Ignis pulls him onto Prompto’s lap gently.

“What hurts? Tell me?” Ignis asks, his voice so somber, desperate, and… afraid, which is rare for him.

“Everything.” Prompto laughs weakly. “Iggy. Think I broke my…” He tries to move his arm, and he whimpers. “Yep.”

Ignis summons a curative easily, breaking it with his palm for the magic to wash over Prompto quickly. “That ought to help for now. Stay with me, love, stay awake.”

Prompto raises an eyebrow weakly. If he wasn’t currently dying, he’d be agonizing way more over that term of endearment. He’s never heard Ignis call anyone that before, least of all Prompto. He must be a lot worse than he feels.

Gladio, in the distance, has taken down the remaining red giant and is making his way over to the two of them. Prompto keeps his eyes on Ignis’s beautiful face, despite it being contorted with worry.

“Stupid daemon, I was gonna… was gonna tell you somethin’,” Prompto whines, curling up into Ignis. “Can’t catch a break lately.”

A tear slides down Ignis’s cheek. “No, none of that. You will be fine. Gladio!” Ignis whimpers, his voice wavering. “I need the bloody car, now.”

“I’ll go get it started. You need help carrying him?”

“No,” Ignis snaps. “I’ve got it, please.”

“Hey, Iggy, it’s gonna be okay, alright?” Gladio says, voice calm and low. “Stay awake, Prom, or I’ll kick your ass.”

Prompto snorts. “You wish, dude…” 

Gladio snorts and jogs to the car on the side of the road.

Prompto’s never felt so much pain in his life despite the curative easing about half of it, especially when Ignis rises to his feet with Prompto draped over his arms almost effortlessly. Prompto sighs shakily as he reaches out to grip Ignis’s shirt.

“Stay with me, dearest, please,” Ignis whispers.

“Iggy, wait, I still gotta…”

“I love you, Prompto, you’re going to be alright, but I need you to know. That I love you. More than anything. You mean everything to me.”

Prompto knows by now that he definitely passed out -- or even maybe died -- because there’s no way this is real. Still, Prompto will enjoy the afterlife while he can.

“Ha. I love you too,” Prompto says with a sleepy smile. “Who the hell wouldn’t love you? Wish you did, though, wish you…” He sighs. “Loved me. Can’t steal my thunder like this, Iggy, I’ve been…”

“Prompto?” Ignis cries.

The world goes black, and Prompto drifts into the arms of the man he loves most.

-----

Ow.”

Before Prompto opens his eyes, or even registers his place in the afterlife, the one thing Prompto can focus on is that it hurts . Everywhere. Death shouldn’t be this painful, should it?

It isn’t until Prompto vaguely registers a sterile chemical smell and the annoying beeping of a heart monitor that he probably isn’t dead. Death is probably not this uncomfortable.

“Prompto?” Ignis’s voice calls out. This time, Ignis sounds different; still worried, but also relieved, and tired.

Prompto flexes his fingertips before letting his eyes flutter open. He registers warmth on one of his hands, and as he looks down, he finds a hand that is not his own holding it. That arm, of course, belongs to Ignis, and Prompto’s heart embarrassingly betrays him and speeds up the beeping of the heart monitor.

“Iggy,” Prompto says weakly, blinking his eyes into focus.

Ignis looks about as crappy as a guy as beautiful as Ignis can. His visor is on his face, so Prompto can’t see dark circles under the tactician’s eyes, but he knows Ignis has them. His hair is down, and it’s an absolute mess. He’s still wearing the same clothes as when they went on the hunt -- whenever the hell that was. Time feels weird.

“How are you feeling?” Ignis asks, squeezing Prompto’s hand. “Are you alright?”

Prompto seems to be able to move all of his limbs. “I feel crappy, but… better, I guess. What happened?”

“You fractured several bones, to say the very least. The curative was applied in time to not have any permanent effects, but some of your broken ribs are going to take a bit to mend regardless.”

“Ouch,” Prompto mutters. “So that’s why it hurts to breathe.”

“I would wager so,” Ignis says. He removes his hand from Prompto’s suddenly as he sighs deeply. “I… I don’t know how much you remember, but I apologize for my improper outburst while I was… worried about you.”

Prompto frowns. He remembers it like a vague dream, Ignis telling him he loves him. He honestly thought it happened after he fell asleep. Butterflies flood his stomach as he realizes this changes everything. Forever.

Then it sinks in.

Ignis is apologizing. 

“Wait, what? Why are you sorry?” Prompto asks, befuddled.

Ignis huffs out a stressed laugh, head turning away from Prompto. “Where do I begin? It was improper, far too forward, and unfair of me to spring more stress on you when you were already in so much pain.”

“Iggy, love is a good thing,” Prompto whispers. “You… wait, that wasn’t a dream?”

Ignis shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t.” He sighs. “How can you say that, when you’ve clearly been trying to tell me you have feelings for someone else? Asking me for advice about it was a clever and kind way to reject my advances, but I’m afraid I’m a far weaker man than I anticipated. I had been trying to tell you for so long, but I simply didn’t wish for you to leave, which was selfish of me. When you told me all of that in the car, I knew for certain I should keep my mouth shut and focus on the platonic aspect of our relationship. I thought I could, but seeing you… so… damn… vulnerable in my arms, I could keep it to myself no longer.” Ignis ducks his head. “You’ve done all these wonderful things for me lately. Flowers, candlelit dinners, holding me at night, I--I’m so terribly sorr--”

Prompto lets out a hysterical laugh, short and incredulous. “It’s you, dummy.” Prompto would never consider there ever being a situation where Prompto would ever call the smartest person he’s ever met a dummy, but he supposes there’s a first time for everything.

Ignis stops his lamenting to tilt his head quizzically in Prompto’s direction. “I beg your pardon?”

Prompto winces as he reaches out to grab Ignis’s hand again. “I said, it’s you. I’ve done all these nice things because it’s you. I was asking you about what I should do for my feelings for you. I thought you calling us friends all the time was you rejecting me.” Prompto lets out another delirious laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, you really… you really thought…”

The room is silent. Ignis makes no move to hold Prompto’s hand in return. Prompto watches the gears turn in Ignis’s head, his tense, sad expression slowly turning to one of realization.

“But, surely… Cindy…?”

Cindy? Are you kiddin’? Cindy doesn’t care about me. She’s gorgeous, yeah, but have you ever heard of overcompensation, dude? I don’t buy Cindy flowers or do candlelit dinners or cuddle her when she has nightmares. I did it for you . ‘Cause I love you , you handsome genius idiot.”

“Prompto, we’ve both… been feeling this way for…”

Prompto feels his eyes well up with tears of happiness. “Do we even wanna know how long we’ve been feelin’ this way?”

Ignis barks out a soft laugh. “Darling, I…”

“I finally get to hear those words from you, then I wake up from death to hear you apologizin’ for ‘em. Incredible.” Prompto starts to laugh harder, and he winces when it hurts his ribs. He pouts. “Ow.”

Ignis rises from the chair next to the hospital bed and surges toward Prompto. He feels for Prompto’s shoulder before gently pressing his lips to Prompto’s forehead. Prompto leans into the touch, having craved it for so long.

“I love you,” Ignis says, tone laced with amusement. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Better,” Prompto whispers.

Prompto reaches up to gently slide Ignis’s visor off of his face, setting it on the bed. He leans in and places a gentle kiss to Ignis’s scarred eye.

“Wanted to do that for so fuckin’ long,” Prompto murmurs. “I love you too.”

Ignis breaks out into a beautiful smile before he slides his hand up to cradle Prompto’s cheek. “We tell Gladio and Noctis none of this,” he whispers. “I already feel foolish.”

“I already know,” Gladio calls from the hallway. “Specs, you’re an idiot, and so are you, Prompto.”

Prompto shares a fit of laughter with Ignis, and he doesn’t even care that it hurts his ribs like hell. “Just a couple of idiots in love, huh?” Prompto teases.

Ignis wastes no time before surging forward suddenly to capture Prompto’s lips with his own. Prompto whimpers happily against Ignis’s mouth, finally able to enjoy the feeling of Ignis’s soft mouth moving with his. He slides an arm up to wrap around Ignis’s neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of Ignis’s neck as he allows himself to be thoroughly kissed.

Ignis pulls back, blinking his unclosed eye with slight surprise. “Apologies, I got rather carried awa--”

Prompto leans in to cut him off with yet another kiss, happy that he can now without any hint of worry. Ignis’s thumb strokes Prompto’s cheek as they lose themselves in each other once more.

Prompto smiles when he pulls away again. “Wow. Better than I ever imagined.”

Ignis moves forward until their foreheads touch. “I cannot agree more, love. Allow me to take care of you. Stay with me?”

Prompto’s heart thuds affectionately. “You don’t even gotta ask.”