Chapter Text
The heat wafting from Noct’s apartment nearly makes him melt right in the doorway. Prompto all but tumbles over the threshold, and immediately feels bad for trailing icy muck all over the shiny tiles. It’s hard to feel too bad, though, when the cozy, toasty warmth seeps into his body even after he peels off his jacket.
“Hey there, snowman,” Noct greets him, ruffling his hair to brush the snow off. Prompto startles and laughs as tiny crystals spray everything around, his best friend included.
“If I’m a snowman, you’re a gingerbread man. ‘Cause damn, you live in an oven.” He rubs his hands together and tries to breathe some life back into his numb fingers.
“At least that means I’m a snack,” Noctis smirks. He waits until Prompto pulls off his boots, then grabs his wrist and leads him further in. “Come on, let’s put some hot cocoa into you.”
Prompto steps over the small puddle his clothes left and pads after Noctis into the living room. The huge windows give a sprawling view of the city, hidden under a pristine white blanket. The snow keeps on going, the fluttering flakes screening the air with a thin, misty layer like a piece of gauze.
In this pale, diffused light, Noctis looks unusually soft: feathery hair and porcelain skin, swathed in a familiar, slightly worn out sweater.
Prompto narrows his eyes.
“Hey! I thought I’ve lost this one.”
Noct follows his gaze down to his own chest. “Oh. Yeah. You left it here last time you came over.”
Okay, that makes sense. But the rest of it doesn’t. “Soooo... Why are you wearing it?”
Noctis averts his eyes, burying his nose in the turtleneck collar. “Guess I was still sleepy. Didn’t notice I put it on.”
Prompto looks to his right, at the mirrored closet door spanning the entire wall by the entryway. Noct’s reflection slinks deeper into the sweater, and from where he’s standing, Prompto can see his cheeks blooming red.
“Well, maybe I wanted to keep track of it. Make sure it won’t get lost again.” Noct rubs his hand over the sleeve, where the threads are getting a little bare on the elbow. The light, dusty blue wool seems to match his eyes almost perfectly. Prompto wonders for a moment if he’d ever noticed it before. If maybe that’s why this is his favourite.
Noct catches his gaze and lets his hand fall awkwardly to the side. “So. I guess you can have it back now that you’re here.”
Prompto has half the mind to protest – tell Noct he can keep it, as long as he promises to wear it every time Prompto comes over. But then Noct pulls the sweater off over his head, revealing a narrow strip of his stomach as he raises his arms, and yeah, sure, fine, that is also good.
“All yours,” Noct says and hands it over.
The apartment is hot and Prompto already feels flushed for other reasons as well. Still, he puts the sweater on immediately, sinking into its comfort like it’s a big, long hug.
Noct’s warmth lingers in the sleeves and wraps around his middle, and if he pulls the collar a little higher, Prompto can almost smell him, too.
“Thanks for keeping it safe for me.” He smiles.
“No big deal,” Noct mumbles. He tucks his T-shirt back in and folds his bare arms over his chest, curling in on himself as he walks into the kitchen. Prompto watches him rummage around, pointedly sticking his head all the way into the cupboards.
“You’re gonna be cold now,” he blurts.
Noct puts the kettle on, carefully studying the switch. “It’s warm enough here.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why you needed my sweater.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
“Nah, dude.” Prompto grins impishly. “You’re freezing. Come here.”
He steps behind Noct and puts his arms around him, draping himself over his back and holding him close.
Noct does freeze, with the spoon halfway in the tin of instant cocoa – and then, he relaxes and leans in, resting his cheek against Prompto’s temple.
His other hand finds Prompto’s sleeve again, fingers curling into the fraying wool around his wrist. It’s thin enough that Prompto can feel their touch – and they’re warmer than anything he’s ever felt.