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Royal dinners are almost as awful as royal meetings. It’d be fine, or at least tolerable, if it were just Noctis and his father, but every once in a while, his father goes and invites half the council. They come in their best costumes: elaborate suits and gaudy dresses, and they line the long sides of the table with a pompous air of importance. Noctis invites his own friends—Ignis sits on one side, Prompto on the other, and Gladiolus stands in the corner as part of the guard. He has to be rod-straight with his hands folded behind his back and his eyes off in the distance. It looks boring, but Noctis would still prefer that to having to make small talk with dignitaries.
His only solace is that his misery has company. Prompto was super excited to be invited—he said it was such an honour. Obviously, that misconception’s worn away. Now he smiles politely but barely says a word, just nodding or shaking his head on the rare occasion where he’s asked fleeting questions. No one really talks to him seriously. They practically treat him like he’s just some riffraff that’s wandered in off the street. It’s immensely frustrating, especially because Ignis is technically common-born too, but they all treat him like he’s part of the royal family. He sort of is. And he’s totally earned their respect. But Prompto should be respected too.
Prompto, in Noctis’ not-so-humble opinion, looks absolutely amazing, commoner or not. He’s actually wearing a suit, something Noctis didn’t think he owned, and sure, it’s probably cheap, but it’s also tight-fitted and hugs his body in all the right places, bulging slightly around his biceps but tapered around his waist. He even has a tie that’s unclipped and keeps draping over the table when he arches too far forward. Noctis doesn’t care if he uses the wrong spoon to eat his soup. He’s an awesome friend.
Noctis is totally going to reward him in a very not friendly way as soon as the dinner’s over. He already regrets forcing Prompto to dress up so much and act so formal. It’s weird to see him put on airs. Even his posture’s abnormal: rigid and unwieldy. Halfway through dessert, Noctis finally leans over and risks whispering in Prompto’s ear, “If you need to go, I can make an excuse...”
Prompto glances at him, blinking in clear surprise. Prompto just hums inconspicuously, “Hm?”
Councilor Edea turns to him, clearly about to ask him a question and steal his attention, but Seymour butts in and distracts her with an incredibly unfunny anecdote about chocobos that Noctis has heard a dozen times. He mutters to Prompto, “You’re sitting really straight...”
Prompto bites his bottom lip. He should never do that in public, because it always makes Noctis want to jump his bones. He tilts and whispers back to Noctis, “That’s ‘cause I’m wearing a corset under this.”
“What.” Noctis pulls back and stares at him. Prompto shrugs sheepishly. Noctis has to duck in again to hiss, “Why?” Not that he’s at all complaining. He’s already trying to picture Prompto suit-less but still dressed in just some tight black fabric around his middle, prettily laced up in the back.
“Figured it would help my posture? And figured it’d give me something to look forward to...”
“Look forward to.”
“You taking it off after...”
“Oh.” Oh. Noctis must be turning pink, because Ignis taps his thigh under the table—a long established sign that means: behave. Noctis stops hovering at Prompto’s shoulder but doesn’t stop looking. And mentally undressing. Prompto grins at him. Noctis doesn’t have to verbally agree that he’s going to do exactly that: take it all off, because that has to be obvious.
Edea cuts in, “So, Mr. Argentum, where did you say you went to school again?”
Prompto throws Noctis a helpless look. Since they’re definitely going to get married someday anyway and the press will probably publish a whole biography on poor Prompto, Noctis bites the bullet and tells the dinner table how he met his absolute favourite person in the world by the dumpster outside their elementary school.