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I
It feels good to come home – even if he’s still learning to think of this cramped old apartment as such.
Noctis rubs his hands over his face, washing off the dust and sweat of another busy day. Grey smudges swirl at the bottom of the sink and disappear down the pipes. They’ve only had running water for a week, and it warranted quite a party when Cindy’s team finally managed to turn it on in the first zone. The outskirts of Insomnia are mostly back on their feet already. It’s going to take more time to restore the city centre, where damage was the worst – but they’ll get it done. Slowly but steadily, everything’s going back to normal.
Almost everything.
He shuts the tap and looks up, blinking away the droplets dribbling from his hair. The stranger in the mirror stares back at him through cracks in the glass. The dim glow of the lightbulb puts deep dark circles under his eyes, brings out the lines around the corners of his mouth. The thin, dark stubble is starting to reach there too. Noctis runs his hand over the coarse hair, eyes darting to the razor on the edge of the sink.
“You should leave it. It suits you.”
Prompto slides in next to him, poking him aside with his hip. The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of them. This close, Noctis can see every fair hair on his chin and the tiny cuts around them, stark against the skin that hasn’t seen the sun in a decade. His freckles have paled and his features have hardened – but his eyes are still the same sylleblossom blue they’ve always been.
It’s so much easier to get used to Prompto’s face than his own.
“You think so?” Noctis strokes his beard pensively. Maybe it’s not so bad if Prompto likes it.
“I’d never lie to you.” Prompto shrugs. He’s already pulled off his shirt, and Noctis can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders are. The light plays over the dips and curves of his muscles, crisscrossed with a broken spider web of scars. Noctis’s eyes follow their paths, across Prompto’s chest and down, looking for the place where they end and not finding it.
“Like what you see?” Prompto asks, with a teasing tone and a timid smile that doesn’t match it.
Noctis pauses, unsure of what he thinks. Prompto is – beautiful, that much hasn’t changed. But he doesn’t like seeing him like this. It pains to be reminded how badly he’d been hurt, to see the evidence of a ten-year strife branded on his skin.
And Prompto must notice his hesitation, because his smile sharpens and his eyes twinkle playfully. He stretches his arms, showing off the array of jagged lines that ripple as he flexes his muscles.
“What, you don’t think they make me look like a total badass?”
Noctis’s heart flutters against his ribs, suddenly lighter.
“I think you’re a total dork,” he says, pulling Prompto in for a kiss. Prompto chuckles against his lips, eagerly returning the touch.
“Wanna take a shower with this dork?”
“Sure.” Noctis smiles, tender and easy. “Can’t waste precious water, right?”
II
It’s pain that wakes him up, sharp and sudden, bursting right under his ribs. He barely shakes from sleep before it flares up again, familiar – a bony elbow to his side. Noctis groans and reaches to rub at the sore spot, feeling around blindly under the tangled blanket.
His hand meets another, cold and tense, clenched firmly into his nightshirt. It doesn’t budge, even when he carefully laces their fingers together. Not that Noctis wants it to move. He gives it a gentle squeeze, slowly running his thumb over the calloused knuckles.
Back when they shared hotel beds and sleeping mats, Prompto used to lie spread-eagle, sprawling wide with room on all sides. He’d never been this clingy before, but Noctis doesn’t mind the change one bit.
They’ve been apart long and far enough for a lifetime.
“If you’re gonna tear this shirt off me, I’d rather you were awake for it,” he teases under his breath. He can’t help but smile, even though Prompto can’t see his face, and probably didn’t hear him either.
Prompto mumbles something, a hot puff of air on Noctis’s neck that lets him know just how close they are. His hold tightens, fingers digging into Noctis’s arm.
“Hmmm?” Noctis hums back. “What was that?”
More mumbling, muffled against his shirt. As Noctis strains his ears, it grows frantic, the heat of Prompto’s quick breaths heavy on his shoulders. The hand in his grip trembles. On his back, he can feel wet streaks blooming where Prompto’s face is pressed between his shoulder blades.
Noctis’s heart sinks.
“Prompto,” he whispers, carefully rolling over to face him. Prompto’s tousled hair tickles his nose as he leans over his ear. “Prompto, wake up.”
A choked gasp is his only reply. Noctis gently cups his face in his hands and tries again, louder.
“I’m here. Come to me.”
Silence. Then, Prompto flinches awake, staring at him with eyes like empty graves.
“Hey,” Noctis smooths his fingers over the freckled cheeks, smudging the half-dried trails of tears. “You all right?”
Prompto hesitates, but nods weakly, swallowing air and the broken sob still lodged in his throat. For a moment, he lays still, chest heaving against Noctis’s side.
“Sorry.” He lets out a laugh, brittle and watery, eyes cast down to where he’s still squeezing Noctis’s arm. He doesn’t let go. “Didn’t expect my nightmares to wake you, too.”
“It’s okay.” Noctis presses a kiss to his damp forehead, and another to his lips. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Prompto’s stubble scratches his cheek as he returns the kiss, sloppy and wet with tears.
When they fall back asleep, Prompto’s head is a steady weight on his chest, his calm breath thrumming through Noctis’s sternum right into his heart.
III
The air is chilly, in this pleasant way that quickly shakes the rest of sleep off him. It’s not quite morning yet, but not really night anymore – a quiet in-between that feels like no life should stir in it.
Noctis doesn’t mind. Now that the power of the Crystal isn’t bearing down on him any longer, he has no trouble rising early. Which is good; there’s too much work to be done for him to sleep in. The sooner they start, the more they’ll manage to do – the faster they’ll regain at least a sliver of their old life.
Still, he lingers on the balcony, peering at the horizon stretching far beyond the ruined buildings. The last of the stars blink high above, bright without the Wall to block their light, even though the sky is already starting to grow pale where it meets the earth.
“Is it time yet?” Prompto steps out behind him, brisk and chipper despite the hour. His minty toothpaste tingles in Noctis’s nostrils as he leans in for a kiss. If Noctis wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now.
“Almost.” He smiles against Prompto’s lips. “You made it.”
If someone had told him ten years ago that one day he’d be waking up excited to watch the sunrise, Noctis would have rolled his eyes and burrowed deeper into his blanket. And yet here he is now. Though honestly, it’s not all for the sun. He cares way more to see the smile that dawns on Prompto’s face every time the first rays break through the darkness.
Soon, Prompto will get used to them again – but for now, they savour these moments as often as they can.
The sun is taking its sweet time to show up, though, so for right now , Prompto turns his attention elsewhere. Noctis leans back as he wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. His chin digs into Noctis’s shoulder, nose pressing where his pulse quickens on his neck.
“You’re cold,” Prompto hums, and when he lets go, Noctis can feel that too. He grumbles in protest, but a blink later, Prompto’s hands are back on his shoulders – weighing him down with a thick jacket. It still radiates Prompto’s warmth as Noctis slips his arms into the sleeves.
“Thanks.” He buries his nose in the collar and breathes in that faint lingering scent, wet leather and something earthy, something like herbs and campfire smoke that reminds him of the days on the road. That’s almost enough to make him warmer already. He digs his hands into the pockets and startles as something hard and cold falls into his fingers.
Noctis pulls it out. It’s a lighter, a cheap one you could get at any gas station way back when. He flicks it on, watching the tiny flame struggle to life under his thumb.
“You smoke?”
“Sometimes.” The flickering light dances on Prompto’s face, casting deep shadows under his eyes. “It was more like – a social thing, you know? When you get to camp after shooting a daemon in the face and someone offers you a cig, you take it. And you don’t ask what’s in it.”
“That bad, huh?”
Prompto laughs with a shrug. “Seriously. I still have no idea. Didn’t taste too good, but at least it helped with the stress. I don’t need it anymore, though. Not since you’re here.”
The flame goes out, but the golden glow remains, bathing them both as the new day rises over the ashes.
IV
“Noct, look!”
He can hear the smile in Prompto’s voice all the way across the room. Now that the days grow brighter and warmer, that smile appears more often, too – though sometimes, Noctis could swear it’s really the other way around.
When he walks into the kitchen, he finds Prompto hunched over the planters on the windowsill, his face right in the tangle of lush leaves. He gestures at Noctis frantically, urging him to come closer.
“Nice.” Noctis shuffles up to him and levels his gaze, cheek to cheek with Prompto. “What am I looking at?”
“Green peppers!” Eyes sparkling with excitement, Prompto points out a few bulbous shapes hanging from the stems. “We sowed whatever we could in Lestallum, but not everything would take under the lamps. Now we can have plants anywhere! I wasn’t sure if they’ll make it in a flower pot, but looks like they’re fine. Tough little babies.”
“They take after you.” Noctis laughs. “What are you gonna do with them, anyway?”
“Eat them, duh!” Prompto beams, tugging him over to the next pot. “The peas and onions are doing great, too – maybe we can make curry! Or some stew, or soup…”
“Never seen you this excited about cooking.” Noctis smiles fondly. “You always said you could burn even water.”
Prompto punches him lightly on the shoulder, but chuckles anyway.
“Right, and I still suck at it. Ten years on canned food and microwave wasn’t half bad if you ask me. But… it’s worth the hassle when you’ve got someone to share it with.”
“Share? Who said I’m gonna eat this?”
Noctis keeps his tone playful, but he’s only half-joking. And Prompto obviously knows him too well to doubt it even for a second.
“Come ooon! You won’t even try? Look, it’s so ripe and juicy!” He picks a tiny pepper off the plant and pokes it against Noctis’s mouth. “Just one bite! Do it for me?”
He pouts, and that’s when Noctis realizes. Prompto has always been the only person that didn’t rib him about his eating habits. So – this has to be important.
“Only because it’s for you,” he sighs.
He still hates vegetables, but these are Prompto’s vegetables. That means they can’t be too bad, right?
He opens his mouth and closes it quickly, catching just the very tip of the pepper between his teeth. It tingles on his tongue, bursting with a rich, bitter taste that takes him aback. It’s weird, and new, and he still doesn’t think he could get used to it. He swallows hard and tries not to make a face.
“So?” Prompto asks eagerly.
“Not terrible,” Noctis judges. “But I could find something more to my taste here.”
The odd flavour lingers in his mouth, but as he pulls Prompto in, it’s quickly overpowered with something far more familiar.
V
Noctis puts the last plate on the drying rack and turns off the tap. The rustling of water gives way to a soft hum, faint and indistinct like an afterimage. It takes him a moment to locate its source – but when he does, he can’t help but smile.
Prompto is leaning against the table in the living room, his gun spread in parts before him for cleaning. His foot taps absently against the floor, and his hair falls over his eyes as he sways his head to the tune of whatever he’s humming.
Noctis strains his ears to hear it better. Prompto sings under his breath, voice weak and cracking, like it’s not used to it – like he hasn’t done that in a long time. It’s a slow melody, almost melancholic. Different from the bouncy songs that he usually got stuck in his head. From the few words he catches, Noctis doesn’t recognize it.
He crosses the room as quietly as he can and puts his arms around Prompto’s waist, lightly pressing his lips to the crown of his head. The song immediately derails, dissolving into a pleased murmur as Prompto tips his head back into his touch.
“I’ve never heard this one.” Noctis smiles into the ruffled blond hair. “Something new?”
“Pretty old, actually,” Prompto smiles back. “It’s a classic folk song – from Cleigne, I think? I’ve heard people in Lestallum sing it in the evenings sometimes. Kind of an earworm, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. Didn’t quite catch it,” Noctis says, drawing back to look at him. “Sing for me?”
Prompto averts his eyes with an embarrassed laugh, but clears his throat and starts from the beginning. His voice grows louder and steadier under Noctis’s encouraging gaze. Soon, they’re both nodding their heads along with the melody.
It thrums through Noctis’s chest when he pulls Prompto in, with an arm around his hips and their hands entwined.
They dance with no grace or thought, slowly turning in a circle to the faltering melody. Prompto’s singing carries between them, winding lower and tighter until it’s barely a breath seeping into Noctis’s ear. It sinks into his skin and withers completely as Prompto buries his face in his shoulder.
And they keep dancing, long after that, holding each other close in the silence.
I
The sky is the clearest Noctis has seen it in months. A thin reddish mist still hangs high up over the sun, but does nothing to stifle its shine or heat. Noctis squints against the sparkles rippling in the water before him. He can barely see where his float bobs lazily on the waves far off the dock.
“Smile!”
The call rings right in his ear, and a blink later Prompto is pressed up against his back, squishing their faces together. He’s holding his camera as far out as he can, poised precariously over the lake. Noctis shoots it an amused look as the shutter clicks time and again in a rapid session.
“You’re supposed to photograph the fish.”
“And you’re supposed to catch them.” Prompto prods him in the ribs with a pout. “Come on, give me something to work with. I’m bored!”
The damp planks tremble under Noctis’s feet as Prompto sinks dejectedly to his knees and starts fidgeting with the equipment, rolling up the measuring tape and sorting through the box of colourful plastic tags Sania gave them. They’ve barely made a dent in them. Fishing has always been a patience game, but it’s even slower now in Scourge-decimated waters.
Which is why their task is important. Gathering data on the renewing population will help to make sure that everything is in order. Scientists were the first ones to notice when nature started to go haywire before – it makes sense they want to keep an eye on it as it’s healing.
And while this trip isn’t entirely for pleasure, it’s still nice to get out of the city. Every day, Insomnia gets busier and more crowded, just like it used to be. Noctis is happy to see his old home bustle and thrive – even if he’s already forgotten how tiring it can be around so many people.
Out here, it’s just him and Prompto for now. They’ve made camp not far off in the woods, their old tent pitched on a plain rock that was once Pullmoor Haven. Gladio and Ignis are on their way to join them, as soon as they finish their delivery route. They’re all looking forward to a quiet evening off. Chatting around the fire, enjoying a cup of mulled wine, getting some well-deserved rest before the new day whisks them away to their duties.
Just like in the good old times.
Behind his back, the shutter goes off again. He turns around to find Prompto pacing down the dock, pointing his camera every which way. Noctis shakes his head fondly, sets his rod down, and walks over.
“Caught anything good?” he asks. “’Cause I didn’t.”
Prompto laughs and tilts the camera towards him. Noctis watches the pictures flitter across the display screen: the bare, dry undergrowth; a close-up of light green buds on a twisted branch; his own back against the shimmering water; their selfie from a moment before.
Noctis pauses over their faces – so different now, older and tired, but still smiling, their cheeks pressed close against each other. Together .
Even if everything else has changed, and will keep changing as they go on, this one thing is a constant.