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“I’m not feeling anything,” Noctis whined, curling into the side of the couch.
“Of course you’re not, you just ate it five minutes ago,” growled Gladio from the large armchair. “Your body needs time to absorb it.”
“Why are you complaining, dude? Just enjoy the cookies, they’re amazing!” Prompto said while doing just that.
Gladio frowned. “Prompto. How many have you eaten?”
Prompto held up three fingers. “Oh, and this one. So four.”
“Oh.” Gladio rubbed a hand on his face. “Well. Say hello to the moon for us, Prom.”
Noctis sat up, feeling a twinge of anxiety. “Prompto, the guy said eat one to feel good, eat two to get fucked up.”
“Right, so everything after that is just diminishing returns, right? ...guys, right?”
“Should we call Ignis?” Noct asked.
“You specifically asked me to be here so you wouldn’t accidentally call Ignis.” Gladio stood up, taking the rest of the cookies away to the kitchen.
Prompto leaned over to Noct. “Psst. Why exactly is Gladio being here better than Ignis?” He whispered.
“Because Ignis’ job is to tell me not to do things like this. But Gladio’s is to protect me no matter what stupid shit I do. ...and also Gladio parties.” Noct turned the television on.
“So why isn’t Gladio eating any?”
Gladio walked back into the living room, a cold bottle of ale in his hand. “Because Gladio wants to watch you two be idiots with all of his faculties intact.”
Noct stopped switching channels when he came across something involving a cat. And really that was all the context he needed to know he wanted to watch it.
“What’s this?” Gladio asked, pointing with his beer bottle.
Noct shrugged his shoulders. “There’s a cat.”
“Hey the cat can talk!” Prompto said.
“Sssh, I wanna hear what the cat is saying.” Noct waved his hand at his friend.
The movie, it turned out, was about a cat who came down from the sky in a flying saucer, and was able to communicate with a special magic collar. The movie was old, and honestly kinda hokey, but it was a fun way to pass the time while they waited for their own magic to kick in.
“How long have we been watching this?” Prompto asked from his seat on the floor.
Gladio glanced at the digital clock in the cable box. “Twenty minutes.”
“What? No, it’s been at least an hour.” Prompto frowned. “Right? It’s been an hour...hey why is my tongue so thick?”
“What? Are you having an allergic reaction?” Noct asked.
“No no no, it’s the same as it’s always been I’m just wondering why it’s...why it’s like…how long is this movie?”
“Prompto made it to space before the cat did,” Gladio mumbled.
“And why exactly is Prompto in space?” Came the very unexpected voice that struck a sudden spike of terror through both Noct and Gladio’s hearts.
“Heeeeeyyyyy Iggy!” Prompto yelled, trying to stand up. “Those cookies are so good, aren’t they?”
Gladio jumped to his feet and bolted to the kitchen.
“Don’t eat the cookies,” Gladio said, as he watched Ignis swallow the last bite of the cookie he was holding.
“...Gladiolus.” Ignis pushed his glasses up for dramatic effect. “What did you do?
“Specs, when the hell did you come in?” Noct was right behind Gladio, panic evident on his face. “I didn’t even hear the door open!”
“What did you two do?” Ignis repeated.
“Why did you eat cookies just sitting out?!” Gladio deflected.
Ignis’ face switched from serious suspicion to intense irritation. “I had no previous reason not to believe a plate of cookies set out in the Prince of Lucis’ kitchen, while his friend and Shield were present, should be anything more than mere simple cookies now tell me, Gladiolus, Noctis, what. Did. You. Do?!”
“There’s an illicit substance in the cookies,” Prompto said from his spot leaning against the wall, shoulders vibrating in silent laughter, fist covering his mouth.
“It’s-” Noctis stumbled over his words, seeing the growing anger on his advisor’s face. “It’s not, it’s just weed Iggy. It’s not like, anything bad!”
“How many did you eat?” Ignis asked, pointing at Noctis.
“Um...Ihadtwo…” Noct mumbled at the counter.
“I see. And you?” He pointed at Gladio.
“Nada,” the Shield replied, making a zero with his hand. “I’m babysitting.”
“And...Prompto?”
Prompto held up two fingers. “Fi-four? Four. It was four.”
Ignis nodded. “Very good to know.” He picked up the last cookie from the plate, and ate it.
“Uhh...Iggs?” Gladio asked, he and Noctis staring in shock.
“You really shouldn’t make assumptions about the personal lives of your associates, Gladiolus. I happen to partake now and then, under only the most restrictive conditions.” He gave Gladio a pat on the shoulder before loosening his tie. “But since you’ll be the sober overseer this evening, I’ll make an exception.”
“Can’t really imagine you getting high, specs.” Noct shrugged his shoulders, returning to his space cat movie.
“Perhaps you could stretch your imagination further if you did not waste it so on video games and comic books. And what exactly are you watching?” Ignis took a seat next to Noctis on the couch.
“There’s-” Prompto began explaining but found himself overwhelmed with silent laughter.
“I must say, Gladio, if your intention was to completely debilitate your wards for the evening you did a spectacular job.”
“The cat talks!” Prompto whispered, tears in his eyes.
“Still not feeling anything,” Noctis whined, thoroughly jealous of Prompto’s inability to string two thoughts together.
“The cat talks, and he’s from space but his spaceship was taken by scientists and now he needs to get it back,” Gladio explained.
“It’s...it’s twelve hours long,” Prompto giggled. “And he still isn’t back in space.”
“Found a lady cat though,” Noct sighed. “So we’ve got that subplot going for some reason.”
“What brought you over anyway, Iggy?” Gladio asked, taking another swig of his beer.
“I came to collect the paperwork I asked Noctis to review and sign this morning. So I can safely assume it was forgotten completely?”
“Yeah,” Noct pouted. “It was.”
“Splendid.” Ignis undid the top two buttons of his shirt. “If you continue finding yourself unfortunately sober, you may wish to attend to it.”
“Oh nooooo! Kitty lost his magic collar!” Prompto moaned, making a perfect physical representation of the sad face emoji.
“The cat has a spaceship and a magic collar?” Ignis frowned.
“Why are you questioning the alien space cat movie, Iggy?” Gladio asked.
“Still not feeling anything.” Noct closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “I’m starting to think Prompto’s faking it.”
Noctis opened his eyes. Ignis was standing in the middle of the room, shirt fully unbuttoned and halfway untucked, a large glass of water in his hand. Gladio was leaning back in his chair with a shit eating grin on his face. And Prompto was sitting cross legged on the floor staring up at Ignis with a look of absolute awe.
“What the fuck?” Noct asked.
“Good morning!” Prompto waved cheerfully.
“All I did was close my eyes.”
“You were asleep for two hours, it’s past midnight now.”
“AS I WAS SAYING,” Ignis glared around the room, “the council’s policy concerning foreign trade tariffs is only going to hurt Insomnian citizens. When the price of basic commodities that we are unable to produce-”
“Aah, man guys, you know what I could really go for right now?” Prompto asked as Ignis carried on unabated.
“Dude,” Noct whispered, realizing his body was starting to feel like liquid. “Fourthmeal.”
Prompto gasped so loud it forced Ignis to cut his speech short to investigate.
“Dude, yes. Yes that is exactly what I was thinking!”
“What in the absolute bleeding bollocks is a fourthmeal?” Ignis snapped.
Gladio snorted from his chair. “This just keeps getting better.”
“Iggy.” Prompto looked up at him, eyes wide in innocent excitement. “Fourthmeal is the meal you eat between dinner and breakfast. At Taco Bell, specifically.”
Noctis swore if he squinted a little bit more he’d be able to make out the gears spinning around Ignis’ head.
“There is no such thing,” Ignis whispered.
“It’s a marketing gimmick,” Gladio explained.
“Shut up! Everybody shut up!” Noctis stood from the couch. “If I don’t get a bean and cheese burrito right now I’m going to start taking political prisoners.”
“Good vibes, Noct buddy!” Prompto stood, shaking Noct by his shoulders. “Fourthmeal is for good vibes only.”
Noctis took a deep breath through his nose. “You’re right.” He exhaled. “You’re right, Prom.”
“I can’t remember the last time I ate Taco Bell.” Gladio also stood. “Shit, I could go for a baja blast. Alright, everyone in the car.”
“Why?” Ignis asked, untucking the rest of his button up shirt from his pants.
“Because we are going to Taco Bell,” Gladio said, as if speaking to a toddler.
“Very well. Then I shall drive.” Ignis retrieved his car keys from his pockets, to which Gladio immediately snatched them away.
“No, Iggy, no. I’m driving.” Gladio tried to convey in a serious tone, only to barely suppress a laugh looking at his friend’s offended face. “Look, if I drive, that’s more mental space you’ll have to continue lecturing us on why the council needs to be dissolved.”
“Indeed.” Ignis removed his button up shirt, only his white undershirt remaining above the belt. “And where was I?”
Prompto shot his hand up in the air. “Oooh! Ooh ooh I know! You were on tariffs!”
“Yes, thank you Prompto, as I was saying-”
“Let’s go!” Noct yelled, waving the others out the door.
“Welcome to Taco Bell, what can I get for you tonight?” the voice from the speaker asked in a cheerful sing song voice.
“Yeah, weird ask for you,” Gladio sighed. “Is there any way you can open your dining room just for a party of four? We’ll clean up after ourselves, I promise.”
There was a moment of silence from the speaker, then. “I’m sorry Sir, we close our dining room at 9 pm, we’ll be opening it again at 11 am.”
“Uh huh. I know. Would you open it for the Prince of Lucis?”
“Um…” the voice petered out, followed by two minutes of silence.
“I need. I need a crunchwrap supreme, Gladdy.”
“I know Noct.”
“Right now.”
“I know Noct.”
“Hi, this is Tim the manager, is there something I can help you with?” came the voice of an older man.
“I have the Prince of Lucis in my car and he wants to eat a fourthmeal in your dining room.”
“....Sir, please drive to the first window.”
He did so.
“As I was saying, Lucis is on the brink of another economic renaissance that could change the very fabric of society as we know it. If we could only-”
“Uh huh. Hi Tim, name’s Gladio.”
“Sir, we’re really not supposed to open our dining room after hours for security reasons.”
“I hear you, and I understand. However. I have a bratty Prince in the back seat, who wants more bean and cheese burritos than you could possibly put together in a reasonable amount of time. I’m asking for your benefit, not ours.”
“With all due respect Sir,” Tim the manager lowered his face, a striking look of intimidation gripping his middle aged features, “I think you may be underestimating the abilities of my staff.”
“Oh my GODS I do not CARE how I get it just PLEASE ORDER, GLADIO!”
“Noct, your vibes!”
Gladio chuckled. “Suit yourself, Tim. We’ll have 20 bean and cheese burritos, ten crunchwrap supremes, a nacho supreme, fifteen crunchy tacos, five crunchy taco supremes, one cool ranch doritos locos taco supreme, three baja chicken chalupas, four chicken quesadillas, two soft steak tacos, and one cinnamon twists.”
Prompto shook the driver’s seat. “Oh, and the baja blasts! Gladio, don’t forget the-”
“I didn’t forget the baja blasts! Four large baja blasts.”
If Tim’s resolve faltered, he did not let it show.
“Any sauce with your order?” he asked.
“A large handful of each.” Gladio handed him a credit card, and Tim gladly accepted it.
“Please pull to the second window, Sir.” Tim smiled, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“What in all of that which is holy under Shiva’s freezing tits is a baja blast?” Ignis asked.
“...Iggy?” Noct leaned between the two older men sitting in the front. “What happened to your shirt?”
Gladio glanced to the passenger side and realized Ignis was, in fact, naked above the waist.
“That’s not what’s important right now, what matters is that restrictive trading practice based on misguided nationalism is going to-”
“Here’s your drinks!” A smiling young woman handed the carrying tray over to Gladio.
“Thanks.” He smiled back. “Hey, this isn’t in the order, but could you add in a couple of sporks and also your number?”
“Sorry, fresh out of phone numbers Sir.” She closed the window.
“Well it was worth a shot. Here Iggy, drink this and quit thinking about politics for a minute.”
“I shall not be quelled by some acid blue dyed carbonated concoction.”
“You gotta take the paper off the straw first,” Prompto said, trying to help.
Ignis took a sip, flinched in disgust, and then took another. “This has to be the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.” He spat before continuing to drink.
“Gladio…” Noctis cried, slipping further out of his seat. “Why isn’t it here yet?”
“Keep your pants on. All three of you.”
“Dude…” Prompto whispered to Noct. “Are you crying?”
“Did the cat make it back to space?” Noct tearfully asked his best friend.
“Yeah, buddy. The cat from outer space went back to outer space.”
The window opened again to reveal Tim holding two large bags. He handed them over, turned around, and began passing an additional two bags.
“And Christina said you asked for a few additional items, I made sure they were in there as well.” Tim smirked.
Gladio stared Tim down in suspicion. “Thanks, Tim. If I find a single thing missing, should I pull back through the drive through?”
“Oh, I insist you do,” Tim replied. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen.”
“Yeah, not creepy at all.” Gladio immediately pulled into the closest parking spot. “Alright, as promised, eat to your stoned little hearts’ content. But if you get sick, you’re cleaning it up.”
“Oh thank the Astrals finally,” Noct said, bean burrito in his mouth.
“It’s all here! Crunchy. Cheesy. Spicy. AND grilled!” Prompto squealed. “The perfect fourthmeal!”
“Here Iggy, as promised, the single most baffling item on the menu. Just for you.” Gladio handed Ignis the doritos locos taco supreme.
The other three waited with bated breath as finally, it would be official, all four of them would have tasted the sweet nectar that was cool ranch.
Ignis took a bite, seemingly oblivious to the eyes staring intently at his shirtless self. He swallowed. He stared into the distance.
“...that’s it,” Ignis said.
“What’s it, Iggy?” Noct asked, unwrapping a crunchwrap supreme.
Ignis was silent. He turned to look at his Prince, and then frowned. “Are those...are you eating vegetables? Voluntarily?” he whispered.
“Oh. Huh. Guess I am.” Noct shrugged his shoulders.
“See? Just like I said last week. You just need to drown everything in nacho cheese sauce and he’ll eat it,” Gladio said.
Ignis returned to sitting up in his seat. He felt a deep, painful chasm forming in his chest. Before him lay visions of an eternity spent toiling without end, pushing up a hill an enormous boulder that was only ever meant to roll back onto him. Flattened by his own labor. Bleeding himself dry in service of something that could never be. Something he could never achieve, never have, never grasp. Years of history blended with these visions, settling into a melancholy acceptance of his fate. Everything that was and would be.
He crushed the remainder of the doritos locos taco in his hand. “Where is my shirt?”