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They didn’t always stargaze. Most nights, they fell into bed in complete exhaustion. Noctis could barely mutter ‘goodnight’—and forget about any goodnight kisses. The increase in paperwork, bills, and meetings meant they were both drowned to their ears in work. Noctis, at times, despised the lack of freedom, of time to just breathe and exist—but he knew what it meant for Lucis, for all the people he had died (momentarily) for.
But Ignis had cleared a few hours of his schedule, not-so-pointedly informing him to spend time with Prompto. To think, Ignis used to scold Noctis for not working enough, and yet here they were, Ignis all-but shoving him outside his office.
“I honestly don’t know what to do with myself,” Noctis had said once Prompto got out of the shower, clean and flushed from the steam of the shower. “This is my first free evening in – months.”
“Oh, same, baby,” Prompto had agreed before he titled his head. “Well. We could walk out in the garden and, like, I dunno . . . watch the stars?”
Noctis liked that idea. It might not be “kingly” or befit someone of royal status, but he grabbed two old blankets from the closet—because if they were going to stargaze, then they were going to do it right. Prompto made sure their phones were charged (because it just wasn’t date night if they didn’t knock out a few rounds of King’s Knight) and requested a small basket of baked goods for them to snack on.
When Noctis informed Gladio their plans, his shield rolled his eyes in thinly veiled fondness and amusement, but he didn’t tell them it was a “stupid, reckless plan.” Although Gladio would be there for security purposes, he’d mostly be in the background. An inobtrusive presence. Ignis only told them to take either an additional blanket or jackets for the nighttime chill.
Once their plans were solid, a giddy warmth spread deep in the pit of Noctis’ stomach. For a moment, he was sixteen again, stumbling and clumsy as he stuttered a confession in front of Prompto, whose face was just as bright as his own, shy and anxious but certain this boy was who he could fall in love with.
Dusk sunk beneath the skyline of the city, and Noctis smiled as he heard Prompto excitedly chirp their plans to their cat, Blueberry Jam, who was only interested in the treats in Prompto’s palm. “She’s going to get overweight,” Noctis half-heartedly scolded as he strolled out of the bedroom, an old bomber jacket snug on his shoulders. “I’m going to tell the vet it’s all your fault.”
Prompto snorted. “Please, like I haven’t seen you give her extra servings of dinner.”
Noctis smiled, guilty as charged, and shrugged his shoulders. “Could you say no to her face?”
“Clearly not,” said Prompto. Blueberry Jam yowled for another treat, a paw smacking the floor in an imperious manner, and Prompto acquiesced to her demand. “Another treat, for her royal greatness.”
Blueberry Jam purred in response.
“Come on,” Noctis said, laughter warm and soft in his mouth. “Daylights’ a wastin’.”
“Isn’t that the point of stargazing? It’s not supposed to be daylight.”
“Baby, let me say these phrases in peace.”
“Never.” Prompto sputtered with laughter as Noctis’ fingers danced across his ribcage, butter soft touches yet they were like a roaring flame to Prompto’s sensitive skin. “No fair!”
“Everything’s fair in love and war,” Noctis replied with a blank expression before he grinned, wide enough to hurt the sides of his mouth, when Prompto smacked his shoulder. Dramatically, because Noctis wasn’t Noctis if he couldn’t have a certain flair to his behavior, Noctis sunk to the floor. “You’ve done it! You’ve wounded me!”
“Here we go,” Prompto rolled his eyes, but his eyes shined with mirth. “King Drama Queen has returned.”
Noctis pouted. “You’ve killed your husband.”
“Oh, no.” Prompto’s expression went blank and deadpan. “Whatever shall I do.”
“Hide the evidence, obviously.” Never let anyone say Noctis wouldn’t be ready to aid Prompto in whatever he needed, even if it was to hide a corpse. “Or you could revive me with a kiss?”
“I’m not into necrophilia, thanks.”
Noctis burst into laughter. Of course, Gladio had chosen to enter their suite at that moment and simply stared at the two of them.
“I’m not even surprised.” Gladio pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, are the two of you nerds ready or not? We’re on a schedule here.”
They weren’t. Noctis didn’t have anything pressing to attend to in his schedule—except for his date—until tomorrow morning. “I’ll be ready when I get a kiss.”
Gladio snorted and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe Noctis and Prompto were the Kings he sworn to serve and protect until his last breath. It was a common expression for Gladio, ever since Noctis and Prompto were teenagers and fumbling into their relationship.
“Huh?” Prompto cupped a hand around his ear, a look of wide-eyed surprise etched on his face. “What was that? Dead men can’t speak.”
Noctis scrunched up his face into a deeper pout—but before he opened his mouth to speak, Blueberry Jam decided his stomach was the best place to use as a jumping pad for the couch. Noctis wheezed beneath her weight—and, yeah, they really needed to start doing healthier food habits for her—and then wheezed again as she took a leap of faith.
Prompto laughed at his misery, like the loving husband that he was, and helped Noctis to his feet. “You alright?” he asked once he gained control of his laughter. Gladio, at least, laughed into his palm. “Any scratches?”
“I’m feelin’ the love,” Noctis said, but added, “And I’m fine.”
“I can see the headlines now,” Prompto added in a solemn, conspirator-like tone: “King of Light decimated by domesticated feline.”
Noctis tickled him until he wheezed for breath as revenge.
Before the Wall around Insomnia fell, the stars were difficult to see. Blocked by the various lights from the skyscrapers and buildings, the magical pulse that protected Insomnia from invaders, only the brightest of stars shone through. But—as things are wont to do—things changed when Niflheim invaded, when daemons overrun the broken city during the Long Night.
Reconstruction efforts were long, but Lucis was nothing if not tenacious and persistent. The city wasn’t up to the same level of beauty and awe as it was during Noctis’ childhood, but it was still a resplendent city he was proud of.
All of this, however, meant that it was easier to see the nighttime sky. Noctis used to count the number of stars he saw on one hand, but there were innumerable ones that stretched before him now. He didn’t want it any other way.
Once they found their desired spot, they spread out their blanket and made themselves comfortable. Noctis melted against Prompto’s side once they situated themselves on the blanket, but Prompto never complained. He had grown accustomed to Noctis’ octopus-clinging ways for decades and flourished beneath positive tactile behaviors.
Quiet drifted between them, a peaceful sort of companionship. Noctis had never felt an urge to fill up silence with meaningless chatter when he was with Prompto. They existed side by side, nothing more and nothing less. Murmurs and shifting fabric from their guards drifted by, but it was nothing to be alarmed of.
Prompto’s breath spanned over Noctis’ cheek, a warmth that sunk deep in his bones. “Wanna finish that dungeon?”
Noctis snorted lightly. “You have to ask?”
Prompto stuck out his tongue. “I’m being polite!”
“Uh huh.” Noctis hid his smile in Prompto’s shoulder. “Because you’re obviously the paradigm of politeness.”
“I’m going to leave,” Prompto said in a blank tone, yet made no move to do so. Noctis bit down on his snickers. “Right the fuck now.”
“Sure, you are.” Noctis wiggled his phone out of his pocket and tapped open the King’s Knight app. “Log on—we got a boss to kill.”
“Hell yeah, we do,” Prompto agreed with an upbeat, blinding smile. Noctis couldn’t help but mirror the expression.
If anyone ever asked him how he knew he’d loved Prompto, he wouldn’t be able to tell them. Noctis couldn’t say when he had fallen in love with Prompto. It could’ve been because of his smile, or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or his dorky half-laugh, half-snort that he did whenever he tried to hide his laughter, or the way he looked in sweatpants and an oversized shirt (or the way he looked in the soft glows of the sunrise, of the moon, back arched against silken sheets), or the way he’d always be by Noctis’ side, ready to face anything and everything.
Noctis just – always was.
It happened gradually, that he knew very well. They’d met when they were fifteen (technically, when they were eight, but Prompto insisted that it didn’t count until high school), but what fifteen-year-old knew who they’d marry? While Noctis’ parents married for love, he was of the opinion he’d never get that chance given the current political climate. An arranged marriage was in his future—and he was right, if only for a few weeks, even if his arranged engagement to Luna was a farce for a farce of a treaty and peace.
But while Noctis had been vaguely aware of how he felt for Prompto, he’d never fully considered them beyond the standard “I like you as more than a best friend probably should.” They were living on the run from men who wanted Noctis dead, following a prophecy Noctis didn’t want to execute yet had no choice but to play along (even if it brought about the literal end of the world).
And Prompto gave him one of his sheepish, soft smiles and said, “Every at your side, Majesty,” in an abandoned bunker, and it was like a light switch turned on inside Noctis. It’s always been you, he had thought. Ever since the day Prompto approached him with a smile and confidence, greeting him like they were old friends reunited, it had always been him.
A finger pressed against his cheek brought him out of his reverie. “You died, like, twice,” Prompto pointed out, eyebrows pinched together in concern. “You okay, baby? We can head inside if you want, it’s no biggie.”
“I’m – I’m good,” Noctis said after a pause and, when Prompto gave him an unimpressed look, added, “Just . . . thinking.”
“Oh?” Prompto raised an eyebrow. “About what?” He frowned and added, “Work thoughts aren’t allowed—.”
“About how much I love you,” Noctis interrupted and was delighted by the pink spreading across the bridge of Prompto’s nose. He couldn’t help but tease: “Aw, is my baby embarrassed?”
Prompto sputtered. “You’re – you’re so cheesy!”
“You married this,” Noctis reminded him.
Prompto’s soft laugh floated in the air, and he smiled at Noctis with such warmth and adoration, it made him curl his toes. “Yes,” Prompto agreed quietly. “And you married this.”
Noctis pressed his forehead against Prompto’s, noses brushing against one another lightly. “Yes,” Noctis echoed as he brushed his lips against Prompto’s. “I did.”
Three minutes passed before Gladio coughed, loud and pointed, not-so-verbally reminding them they were in an easily photographable area.
Noctis regretted nothing.