Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Dude, c’mon!” Prompto grabs onto Noctis’ hand, pulling him up beside him as they run down the streets, weaving between the crowds and trying to get as far away from the shining towers of the Citadel as possible.

“You know I don’t run!” Noctis complains between huffs while trying not to trip on his own feet as he is all but dragged by Prompto.

Prompto can picture the grumpy pout that would be on Noct’s face if he wasn’t trying to catch his breath, and smiles.

Noctis did not want to attend another one of his father’s meetings as that’s all he’s been doing since the start of summer vacation two weeks ago. He hadn’t had much time for himself at all and had been lamenting as much to Prompto through text message during a break between meetings — and Prompto, ever so gallant, thought he better storm the castle and rescue the captive Prince from suffering anymore boredom, and give him much needed a break from all of that. Summer vacation is supposed to be for relaxing and having fun, after all.

A ringing sounds from Noctis’ pants pocket, and they stop outside of a small outdoor cafe. Prompto releases Noctis’ hand from his grip and Noct pulls out his phone and answers, trying to get his breathing under control, “What?”

“Where are you?” Prompto can hear Gladio’s frustrated voice through the phone and how short the man’s patience is. Prompto had only met the man less than a handful of times and it wasn’t for very long. He’s an intimidating man and that makes Prompto keep his distance around Gladio. “The military strategy meeting was supposed to be underway 20 minutes ago and they’re all waiting on you. I’ve been looking for you all over the Citadel—”

“That’s because I’m not in the Citadel.”

“You better get your ass back here now Princess, you’re not making a good impression on the council.”

“Or what, you’ll tell Cor to sick the Glaives on me to bring me back?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Well then, they’ll have to catch us first!”

“Us?” Gladio’s confusion comes through crystal clear.

“Bye!” Prompto chimes in before Noctis ends the call and pockets his phone again. He looks to Noctis as realization suddenly hits him and the colour drains from his face, “Oh Shiva, you don’t think he’d really do that, do you?”

“Knowing Gladio, yeah, he would.” Noctis sighs, and leans against the brick wall of the cafe and stares up into the bright blue sky. There is a heaviness that shows in his posture — the weight of every expectation bearing down on him.

“Prom, I haven’t been able to relax at all. Not with all of these meetings my dad is making me go to, and all the debriefings afterwards with Ignis going over everything again for hours and hours. Like, I get it. I know it’s to prepare me to take the throne but…” He can hear the strain in Noctis’ voice and it makes his heart ache.

The thought of having to become King only serves to remind Noctis that not only is his life entirely predetermined and predestined for him since his birth, but also of his father’s impending mortality — the latter Noctis would rather not think about at all. Especially since King Regis is the only family he’s got left. He’s not ready to face any of that yet.

And Prompto knows this, that’s part of why he wanted to take Noctis away from it all, to help Noctis forget his troubles and duties and responsibilities and to just be a teen again, if only for a little while.

There’s a bit of commotion across the street from them just a couple of blocks away that snaps Noctis out of his reverie as they both look towards the source of the noise, and sure enough, there’s a Glaive heading right towards them.

“Shit!!” Prompto barks out a laugh, “We’re found!” Noctis grabs his hand and they both take off sprinting at full speed, garnering strange looks from the pedestrians they dodge and swerve around.

They twist down streets, and zig-zag across avenues, squeezing between buildings both new and old, and passing through back alleys, jumping onto dumpsters and climbing over fences in attempts to lose their pursuer; their surroundings a blurring motion of colours as they run and run and run, their footfalls are dull on the pavement and concrete as the sounds of their laughter ring out bright and clear.

The rush of adrenaline from getting caught doing something they shouldn’t is coursing through their veins, and it’s exciting running away with Noctis — getting far away from their responsibilities and expectations and to escape everything set before them. To be able to let all of that go and to just be. And Prompto thinks he doesn’t want this feeling to end.

But his sharp eyes spy another Glaive at their 10 o’clock, and he points them out, “Noct! Over there!”

“Dammit!”

They both stop, letting go of each other to catch their breath as they think of another way to escape the Crownsguard.

“I dunno how much longer I can keep going, to be honest. My legs are gonna give out on me.” Prompto whines and gasps for air. He looks over at Noctis, whose head hangs down as he supports himself on his knees with his hands and is breathing just as hard.

Time is running out.

Noctis suddenly stands up straight and throws his right arm out to the side — in a sparkling blue flash he summons a dagger from the Armiger. He wraps his other arm around Prompto’s waist and pulls him close as Prompto yelps in surprise.

“D-dude, what?” Prompto chokes out, immediately red in the face as he’s pressed firmly against Noctis’ side; his heart leaping to his throat at the sudden closeness.

Noctis turns his face to Prompto’s and they stare at each other for just a moment, their noses just inches away. The air is caught in Prompto’s lungs as Noctis’ warm breath washes over his face — he can smell the chocolate Noctis must have been snacking on when he was on a break. It’s sweet and heady, and it’s making him lightheaded. This feels strangely intimate and Prompto can’t think, the gesture short-circuiting his brain. He can only gaze into dark blue eyes as deep as the midnight sky and he feels himself slipping; his heart beating wildly for entirely different reasons now.

“Hold on.” Noctis says softly with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth; there’s a shy look on his face, and that’s all Prompto has time to process before wrapping an arm around Noct’s shoulders as Noctis throws the dagger high up into the air. Prompto’s stomach drops and - by the Six! - he’s going to warp!

There’s a strange pull in his stomach in the direction the dagger was thrown. The sensation ripples throughout his body much like goosebumps, but it feels bone deep and it’s so weird! In an instant, there’s another blue flash of light as they both reappear high up in the sky. Prompto’s stomach somersaults and he grips onto Noctis even tighter as Noct reaches for the dagger that’s now in front of him, and throws it again even higher up into the sky towards a skyscraper.

Noctis repeats this again and again, higher and higher they go and they’re practically sailing over the highest rooftops - save for the Citadel itself - with the wind rushing past them, whipping their hair about their faces and wrinkling their clothes. There’s a moment when Noctis stops throwing the dagger — they’re so far up into the sky, and they just fall. Prompto’s stomach drops again as gravity pulls them both down, his heart hammering in his chest.

There’s still so much space between them and the rooftops beneath that it would take more than a few minutes of falling to reach them. Prompto’s never been this high up before in his life!

The city of Insomnia rushes below them, and Prompto looks up into the brilliant blue sky, its endlessness feels like it’s sucking them in, pulling them up higher and higher the further they fall. It’s an odd sensation but it’s electrifying. Something unlocks in his chest, it’s overwhelming and he feels exhilaration as he extends his free arm out to the side and throws his head back, whooping with reckless abandon. Beside him, Noctis laughs and holds onto Prompto even tighter. The late afternoon sun greets them, and he swears he can touch the clouds. They’re flying, and Prompto has never felt so free!

Noctis summons the dagger, throwing it again, and off they go.

They eventually land on the rooftop of a high rise apartment building, and they both stumble from the exertion. Noctis’ legs give out beneath him, but Prompto holds him up and walks him to one of the benches closest to them. They collapse onto it with all the grace of a newborn chocobo chick, their arms still wrapped around each other.

“I do not have the stamina to keep going.” Noctis sighs heavily, completely spent, and leans his weight against Prompto.

“I got you.” Prompto shoves Noct a little in comfortable familiarity, and they both smile, looking out at the scenery before them. The wall surrounding Insomnia is so much closer, protecting its citizens, along with the brilliance of the magical barrier from the Crystal’s power pulsing and shimmering silently way, way up high above them. The barrier is mostly invisible, but if you look for it long enough you can see the power of it flow like sparkling waves of water.

After they’ve managed to catch their breath and rest, Prompto eventually unwinds himself from Noctis’ embrace and pulls his little red digital camera out from his back pocket, quickly taking shots of the incredible view.

Noctis watches the smile on Prompto’s face grow as Prompto inspects the photos he’s taken with the LCD screen, seemingly happy with the results. His face is still flushed from their excursion and it highlights his freckles; his hair is a complete mess — and with the way the warmth of the now setting sun, along with the pinks and oranges bleeding into the early evening sky lights him up, Prompto looks like he’s glowing gold. And he’s the most beautiful thing Noctis has ever seen.

He thinks back to how Prompto looked at him just before they warped. Taken completely by surprise, wide-eyes and face flushing, and pressed right up against him. They were so close that Noctis could see violet in the cornflower blue of those eyes, framed by long lashes. And it made Noct come to a realization about his feelings towards his best friend.

“Prom.” It’s not a question. Just a statement of fondness. Anything to get Prompto’s attention back on Noctis.

“Mm?” Prompto looks at him with the most dazzling smile, shining eyes crinkling at the corners, and Noct’s heart skips a beat.

Noctis has to clear his throat, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth as he feels his own face heat up, “Take one of us.” And he pulls Prompto closer to him again.

“Of course!” Prompto laughs, and settles against him as easily as they’ve done many times before, neck resting on his shoulder, “I never wanna forget this day.” There’s a pleasant swelling in his chest where his heart is, and Noctis preens.

Prompto turns the camera around and extends his arm out in front of them, and while Noctis knows he should look at the camera, he just can’t take his eyes off of Prompto. There’s a click, and the picture is taken. They sit in peaceful silence for a moment. The only sounds coming from the gentle hum of a city below full of cars and people, the comforting and familiar sounds of life.

“Thank you, Noct.” Prompto stares at the camera in his lap, not looking at the photo yet.

“For what?”

“For spending time with me.” He says quietly, bashfully, still looking at the camera in hands. The blush on his cheeks and across his nose is still there. “It just sucks going from being able to see you every day at school, to not at all. I really missed you.”

Noctis knows how lonely Prompto gets, what with his adoptive parents never being around and the fact that he never had any friends until the day he approached Noctis three years ago and they’ve been fast friends since. Despite the fact that Noctis knew of Prompto when they were in elementary school, he remembers meeting a cute but shy and chubby boy with glasses who fell over on himself the first time they ever met, but Noctis had to leave soon after. Prompto never approached him after that, and Noctis couldn’t do much himself without being swarmed by other classmates whom he didn’t want to be around. Everyone else made it clear they were only interested in him because he is the Prince. It made him sad and he kept looking out for Prompto, but that was the only time it happened. It was a little weird that Prompto only formally introduced himself to Noctis when they were both 15, looking very different than he remembered; but then again, he supposes they were both a lot more shy and awkward when they were younger.

“I missed you too, Prom.” Noctis means it with all his heart. He’s sure he can see Prompto’s ears and neck turning red as well.

Prompto turns his face towards him, and he’s so close that Noctis can count each beautiful freckle. He searches those eyes and his chest tightens when he finds the violet in them, and by the Astrals, he’s never seen eyes like that before. He watches long lashes brush against Prompto’s cheeks when he blinks. Something subtle changes in Prompto’s expression, but Noctis catches it, and his heart is beating so fast it pounds in his ears.

He leans closer, brushing the tip of his nose against Prompto’s and he can hear the hitch in Prompto’s breath — a soft, shaky gasp as he watches those lips part. Just a little closer, he can do this. Go slow, so Prompto has time to pull away if he chooses. But Prompto isn’t pulling away, he just closes his eyes. Noctis just has to close the distance. Closer, closer, he’s almost there. There’s a pleasant fluttering in his stomach and he thinks this is it. He’s going to kiss his best friend. He’s going to kiss Prompto. Noctis closes his own eyes.

A loud bang from a door being forced open jolts them, shattering the moment, and they immediately separate, both looking guilty. A petite Glaive stalks towards them, and when she removes the hood of her uniform, Noctis immediately recognizes her as Crowe.

“Finally found you two.” She stops in front of them and puts her hands on her hips as she eyes them both curiously. While they both turn red under her scrutiny, only Prompto crumples from the weight of it. “You boys sure gave us a good chase. But now it’s time to head on back, your Highness. You’re in a lot of trouble.”

Prompto hangs his head in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact with her. Noctis just sighs, not even bothering to hide his exasperation at being interrupted. He stands, turns and extends his hand out. “C’mon, Prompto.”

Prompto looks up at Noctis and takes his hand, allowing himself to be pulled up onto his feet. He casts his gaze back down to his feet, his expression broken, and Noctis can’t help but feel his own heart break.

“Make haste, fellas. Libertus is waiting in the car downstairs.” Crowe turns on her heels and walks back towards the exit she came from.

Still holding onto Prompto’s hand, Noctis tugs him along, following Crowe a ways behind to give them as much privacy as possible.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His voice is gentle with concern as he tries to peer into Prompto’s face, “Are you okay?”

Prompto scrunches his face up, and bites his lip as he figures out how to word his thoughts. After a few moments, he speaks so quietly that Noctis almost doesn’t hear him, “I’m so sorry, Noct. I got you into so much trouble. This is all my fault, I never should’ve made you shirk your duties.”

Noctis wants to reassure Prompto that it probably won’t be that bad but he honestly doesn’t know. “Well,” he pauses, considering his words, “technically, you didn’t make me do anything.”

Prompto looks at Noctis in surprise like he wants to say something, but changes his mind at the last second.

“And besides, I wanted to.” Noctis squeezes Prompto’s hand, hoping it will be comforting. He smiles when his hand is squeezed in return.

The three of them enter the building and make their way to the elevator — the ride down to ground level, and the subsequent ride in the car back to the Citadel is in awkward silence, with neither Crowe nor Libertus questioning them further about why they were led on a chase throughout the city, nor when noticing that both boys still held hands even in the car. Noctis and Prompto are thankful for that.

Prompto sits in a plush chair outside an office, but it does nothing to give him comfort. He hears the muffled but raised voices of Noctis and Marshal Cor Leonis, as well as the stern voice of His Majesty King Regis himself emanating through the door. He buries his face in his hands as anxiety sits heavy in stomach, causing him upset.

What if he’s never allowed in the Citadel or near Noctis ever again? He’s caused so much trouble, and made Noctis look bad in front of his superiors. He’s just some commoner after all - no one important - who will probably be dismissed as a bad friend and bad influence on the young Prince. Prompto will be all alone again, like he has been for his entire life. He doesn’t want to go through that - he can’t go through that - anymore; it’s been so lonely and painful until Noctis came into his life and accepted his friendship. He can’t lose Noctis. He just can’t. His throat tightens as he tries to hold back a sob. He really, really messed up this time.

The door to the office finally opens after what feels like forever. It startles Prompto from his spiraling thoughts and he looks up to see Cor. The man is wearing a frown, but upon seeing Prompto, his expression softens to something akin to pity. Cor motions with his head for Prompto to come inside, and Prompto doesn’t hesitate, no matter how much it scares him to find out his punishment. By the Astrals, please don’t take Noctis away from him.

“Ah, Mr. Argentum, thank you for joining us.” The smooth voice of the King acknowledges Prompto as he enters the room.

Noctis stops pacing angrily back and forth and looks up, concern washing over him when he sees him, “Prompto.”

His name is a soft exhale on Noctis’ lips as Noct rushes towards Prompto and pulls him into a hug. He immediately returns the embrace, but tenses when he hears an awkward clearing of a throat from Cor a ways behind them. They part, embarrassed, and turn to face King Regis who is sitting in a chair behind a desk, his elegant hands folding together in front of him. Prompto pretends he doesn’t see the inquisitive look that passes over the King’s features at the display of affection.

Noctis holds onto Prompto’s hand and doesn’t let go, and Prompto almost cries at that gesture alone — but is determined to hold himself together in front of the King. This is the first time he’s actually had an audience with the King and he’s shaking all over - nerves completely shot. His heart is pounding so fast it’s making him feel sick to his stomach, but that simple touch helps to ground him and gives him strength. He only hopes he doesn’t look as pathetic as he feels.

“J-just….” Prompto stutters, the words getting caught in his throat, “Just ‘Prompto’ is fine, your Majesty, please.”

“Alright, Prompto.” King Regis nods, smiling, and gestures to Noctis. “My son has told me a lot about you over the years, and that you’re the first friend he has made on his own.”

Prompto can feel his face heating up as he struggles not to look away.

“You’ve made a real, positive difference in his life and I can see that Noctis is quite fond of you. I must thank you for all that you’ve given my son in the short time you’ve been friends.”

There it is, the lump in Prompto’s throat, threatening to spill out as he struggles to swallow it down. What could Prompto have possibly given Noctis, who has everything? Prompto has nothing to offer - not status, no money, nothing. This open earnestness isn’t what he is expecting to hear at all and it makes him feel bewildered and overwhelmed.

“I must apologize that my son has gotten you caught up in his misbehaviour.”

Prompto startles, shooting Noctis a confused look. Noct took the blame for skipping out? No, he can’t allow this to happen. It was his fault, not Noctis’.

He makes a face and bites his lip. If he does this now, it’s all over, but the King deserves to know the truth, “I’m sorry, your Majesty, but Noctis is lying.”

“Prompto…” Noctis frowns. King Regis simply raises his brows as if urging Prompto to continue.

“Noct is lying.” Prompto repeats firmly as he severs eye contact with the King, shame spreading over him as he looks at his feet. “He told me how he hates being stuck here all the time, working. It’s been two weeks since summer vacation started and he hasn’t had any time to himself - we haven’t spent any time together since!”

His voice breaks and he chokes out a sob now, tears flowing down his face as if to humiliate him. Prompto balls his fist of his free hand tightly, hoping the pain of his nails digging into his skin can distract him enough from getting too emotional, but the floodgates are open and he can’t seem to stop the waves of thoughts and feelings from bursting forth now as panic and desperation envelope him. He has to make this right, no matter the cost.

“And I just… I felt bad for him! I wanted to make him feel better! I have no other friends, my parents are never around… I’m-I’m alone all the time! And I miss him!

“I know this was selfish of me, but we’re not gonna be kids forever and I just wanted to spend some more time with him! It was my idea to tell Noctis to skip his meeting and run away from his responsibilities! Please don’t punish him too harshly, it’s all my fault!”

Prompto lets go of Noctis and collapses onto his knees, keening as he hides his face in his hands, utterly ashamed for failing to keep his composure at all, “I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit and I promise it won’t happen again, but please don’t banish me! Please don’t take Noctis away from me!”

The silence that follows Prompto’s confession hangs heavy over the four of them in the room. There is a weight settling down beside him as Noctis pulls him into his arms.

“Prompto…” Noctis murmurs his name, always so gentle, and it makes Prompto’s heart ache even more.

Noctis carefully removes Prompto’s hands from his face and they look at each other. Noctis looks as pained as Prompto feels and it only makes him cry more, but Noctis is quick to smooth the tears away with his hands.

“Prompto,” King Regis says after a few minutes, “Thank you for telling me the truth. It can’t have been easy for you, and I sincerely appreciate it. Though I know my son, and I don’t believe you give him enough credit.”

The warmth of the King‘s words surprises Prompto enough that he snaps his head up towards him, effectively halting Prompto’s downward spiral.

“I’m sure you’re as well aware as I am, that no one can make Noctis do something he doesn’t want to.” King Regis smiles broadly.

What Noctis said to him as they were leaving the rooftop of that apartment comes back to the forefront of his memory, affirming the King's words. ‘Well, technically, you didn’t make me do anything. And besides, I wanted to.’ They echo in Prompto’s mind and he feels a weight has been lifted somewhere deep inside.

“That being said, you both know better, especially Noctis.” He makes a point to look directly at his son, and Noctis cringes.

“Now Prompto, you will not be banished from the Citadel nor prevented from ever seeing Noctis again, so please don’t despair. You are always welcome here, and I’m sure both Gladiolus and Ignis would be happy to see you. They both speak rather highly of you, and if you’d like, we can make arrangements with them as well. I understand the pain of loneliness myself, so don’t hesitate to get in touch with Cor here, or perhaps with Ignis and Gladiolus if that would make you more comfortable. How does that sound?”

Relief washes over Prompto but he can’t trust himself to speak, so he nods — a flicker of hope sparking in his chest.

“But, Noctis, you will be grounded for a week with visiting privileges revoked for the duration of your punishment.”

Noctis groans, and Prompto can tell without looking at him that he’s rolling his eyes, but King Regis continues, “Ignis and Gladiolus will be giving you extra work and training while you are grounded, but afterwards, if they’ve deemed you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps we can arrange for you some more free time in your schedule for the remainder of summer break. Prompto is right, after all, you won’t be young forever.”

Something swells inside Prompto’s chest from King Regis’ acknowledgement and validation, and the fact that his fears have been taken into consideration. He never thought he would ever truly gain acceptance, especially from the King himself. They’ve all welcomed Prompto with open arms, free from judgement, and he can’t help but cry again — but this time for entirely different reasons.

“Prom, Prom, are you okay?” Noctis’ hands are caressing Prompto’s face again, wiping away the tears as they fall.

“I hope you can forgive me, Prompto, for keeping Noctis here for a little longer while he’s grounded.” King Regis says, assuming he’s upset Prompto.

“No, it’s not—” Prompto moves to stand, Noctis getting up with him, but he’s been sitting on his legs and they’ve gone all numb and tingly, giving out beneath him.

Noctis is quick to support his weight against him, but to have come off as some sort of snivelling damsel in distress is more than he can take. Especially right in front of both His Royal Majesty and The Immortal, no less!? Prompto is mortified.

He‘s never been more embarrassed in his life, but it happens before he can even think about it. It just slips out — he can’t help it.

“Aw, Noct, my hero!” His voice is rough and it quivers, and he can’t believe he just said that.

Noctis snorts, and there’s a soft chuckle from the King himself. Prompto is held in steady arms, and he can’t help but curse his overwhelming need to turn a tense situation into a joke as he hides his face against Noctis’ chest. He is fully aware that that’s not making him look any better either but it’s too late, so he might as well just roll with it now.

“I got you.” Noctis speaks low in his ear, and there’s a tenderness in his voice as he says it. It shouldn’t make Prompto shiver as much as it does, but it does. “You’re okay, though?”

Prompto nods, sniffling, and finally stands upright on his own, his face is completely flushed. He fidgets with his hands in front of him for a moment, trying to sort his thoughts. There’s too much he’s unable to put into words all that he wants to say to express the full extent of his gratitude, and how much everything means to him, so he simply says, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, Prompto.” King Regis is smiling again, and there’s a brightness in his eyes that Prompto swears wasn’t there before. “If that’s everything, then I think we are done here.” And King Regis motions for Cor to get the door.

Cor opens the office door and waits as both Noctis and Prompto make their way towards it.

“It’s been a pleasure to see you again.” The King calls out, “I hope to see you soon. Take care of yourself, Prompto, and have a good night.”

Prompto half-spins to face King Regis, giving him finger-guns. “You got it!”

A hearty laugh erupts from the King, and for a moment he simply looks like Noctis’ father, rather than the imposing ruler of a Kingdom. And Prompto feels privileged to witness something so humbling; his fingers itch to photograph the moment, but he thinks against it. He knows it’s not an appropriate time for that now anyways.

While accompanied by Cor, Noctis and Prompto walk hand in hand to the entrance of the Citadel. Once the three of them reach the top of the steps outside, they find the sun has already set. The sky is dark with not a cloud in sight.

The magical barrier protecting the city is easier to see at night, the faintly glowing and shimmering waves slowly pulsate outwards from atop the centre of the Citadel itself. With all the lights coming from within the city as well, it’s difficult to see many stars, even on a clear night like this. Prompto barely has memories of seeing the night sky unimpeded by light pollution, though he’s positive he has at one point before he was adopted. But that thought is neither here nor there, and Prompto quickly shoves it away for another day.

“Nyx will take you home.” Cor motions to another Glaive waiting next to a car at the bottom of the steps, and they see Nyx wave at them in acknowledgement. Prompto and Noctis wave back.

“You should head to your room now, Highness. Ignis will have to brief you on what you missed from this afternoon’s meetings.”

“Fine.” Noctis sighs, and turns to face Prompto. They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Noctis pulls Prompto in for another hug, burying his face into the crook of Prompto’s neck.

Prompto wraps his arms around Noct’s torso and squeezes him just as tight, letting his eyes close. Prompto doesn’t know how long they’re holding each other when Cor is clearing his throat again, looking embarrassed when Prompto glances up at him.

“Alright kids, break it up.”

They separate, but Noctis still holds onto Prompto’s hand, his touch lingering. “Well… goodnight, Prom.”

“Goodnight, Noct.” Prompto doesn’t want to let go of that hand.

They both stand there, staring at the ground, very well aware that they have no privacy at all. Now that Prompto can think clearly after his particularly ungraceful meltdown earlier - which he is still very much disconcerted about, he thinks back to what almost happened between him and Noctis on the rooftop of that apartment before they were interrupted. His heart pounds in his chest.

Noctis shuffles from side to side, and Prompto wonders if he’s thinking the same thing. “I’ll um, text you later, ‘kay?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay, cool.” Noct moves to leave, finally letting go of Prompto’s hand. “Goodnight.”

“G’night.” Prompto watches Noctis push his way through the glass doors, stepping inside the Citadel. He stops to look back at him, and gives a little wave of his hand. Prompto waves back, and they both smile. Then Noctis enters the lobby’s elevator and he’s gone.

Prompto exhales and slumps his shoulders. Today has been overwhelming. In many ways. And he’s exhausted in every way possible. He startles as a hand touches his shoulder.

“Hey, kid.” It’s Cor, looking down at Prompto with worry on his face. “You alright?”

“Oh! Yeah! Of course!” Prompto titters, brushing off Cor’s concern, and grinning wide. “Never better!”

“If you say so.” Cor is eyeing him, and Prompto thinks he probably can’t fool The Immortal. But there’s something about Cor that makes him feel like he can trust him; maybe it’s the casual way he speaks or the look on his face that isn’t patronizing or judging. He feels comfortable and safe in the man’s presence. So Prompto takes a deep breath and grabs the olive branch, hoping it won’t break.

“I just… I don’t… it’s been a lot. Today, I mean.” He fumbles trying to get the words out. He’s not used to being so vulnerable, especially so much in one day — it kinda ruins the carefree, easy-going reputation he’s been trying to build since he was a child.

“I know what that’s like. To… to be so… inundated.” Cor says. It seems like he’s struggling too, and it warms something deep in Prompto’s belly. “Just know that you can, uh, reach out to me at any time for anything. Okay, kid?” Cor rubs the back of his neck with his other hand, and looks out into the city. “I’m– we, are here for you.”

There’s a tight swelling in Prompto’s chest and he’s got pinpricks forming in the corners of his eyes. This is all too much, and it’s all too good, and Prompto moves before he starts to doubt. He launches himself into Cor’s arms.

Cor stumbles back a little in complete surprise. “Whoa, easy there!” But Prompto can hear the smile in his voice as Cor carefully returns the gesture. It only lasts a couple of seconds before Cor pulls away, but he keeps his hands on Prompto’s shoulders.

“Thank you, sir.” Prompto’s not sure why he did that, but it felt right. And he doesn’t regret it.

“You can call me Cor.” He then lets go of Prompto and nods his head to where Nyx is still patiently waiting, clearing his throat again, “Well, uh, you better get going.”

“Mm.” Prompto hums, and begins making his way down the steps towards Nyx and the car.

The backseat passenger door is already open for Prompto when he reaches the bottom, and just as Prompto steps inside the car, Cor calls out to him, “See you, kid!”

Nyx closes the door once Prompto is comfortably seated, but Prompto quickly finds the button to lower the window, and he sticks his head out of the vehicle, smiling broadly, “Bye Cor!”

Prompto watches Cor from the open window as he and Nyx begin to make their way out of the Citadel. Cor doesn’t move at all, and Prompto continues watching with a pleasant ache in his chest.

The car stops at the locked gates to the Citadel, and as Nyx lowers the driver’s window to hand the security guard stationed there some kind of ID card, Prompto quickly grabs his camera from his back pocket and bodily hangs his entire torso out of the window, with his hip resting on the sill and one elbow on the roof of the car for balance. With a quick adjustment so he can get as much of the Citadel in the shot as possible, he snaps a few rapid pictures in succession. Cor’s once tall figure is just a small dark silhouette against the backdrop of the massive structure and grand entrance looming before them. Then he quickly slides back down to his seat, perfectly satisfied.

He loses sight of Cor when the car makes a turn onto the road, and the far-off entrance disappears from view.

Except for Nyx asking Prompto for directions to his home, it’s a quiet ride back. Prompto is grateful that Nyx doesn’t try to make conversation, being as effectively worn out as he is. Nyx had, after all, a front row view of the entire exchange right outside the front doors to the Citadel, and no doubt heard everything too. He thinks he should be embarrassed, but Nyx’s countenance and demeanour doesn’t give him any reason to be. It’s a relief and small comfort, and Prompto sighs, sinking into the plush leather seat.

The car eventually comes to a slow rolling stop just outside of Prompto’s home. All of the lights are off, and Prompto’s pretty sure his adoptive parents aren’t even there. They usually aren’t, so it would be a surprise if they were. A sinking feeling settles in Prompto’s stomach at the thought of going inside that dark, quiet, and empty place — a place that doesn’t even feel like home to begin with.

All alone. Again.

“Prompto, right?” Nyx turns around in his seat to face him.

“Yeah.”

“Here, this is for you.” Nyx reaches to the passenger seat beside him, and grabs something. It’s a sizable black cardboard box with a thick and shiny black ribbon tied around it to hold the lid closed; it looks very elegant - and expensive - in its simplicity. He hands it to Prompto. “Ignis thought you might not’ve eaten anything since noon, so he made you some food as an apology for everything that’s happened, and for us keeping you in the Citadel for so long. Figured you must be hungry.”

Prompto’s jaw drops as he takes the box. It is heavy and warm, and it feels very grounding to hold on to as his brain tries to process what’s happening. Conflicting feelings are swirling around his chest, and Prompto is torn. He can’t accept this, he’s done nothing to deserve such generosity — but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to refuse. And now that it’s been brought to his attention, his stomach makes a loud noise, and Nyx chuckles to himself.

“Thought so.” He says, smiling. And Prompto can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed.

“Thank you, Nyx.” Prompto really hopes he manages to convey the depth of his gratitude.

“Not at all, blondie. Take care, alright?”

“You too.” And Prompto exits the car with food in tow.

“I’m home!” He calls to no one as soon as he enters the building, locking the door behind him. It’s a force of habit he’s done since he was a child, and Prompto thinks nothing of the lack of acknowledgement.

He begins to make his way to the kitchen in the dark - knowing he could find his way there in his sleep - and doesn’t bother turning on any lights yet. But he stops abruptly when he notices through the window that the car Nyx drove him in is still parked outside. Prompto is caught off guard and wonders why Nyx hasn’t left yet. Something switches on in his brain, and he quickly shifts the box to one arm and flicks on the lights for outside, as well as the entryway and living room lights.

He stares out of the window and watches as the car just now begins pulling away, slowly turning down the street and taking off. Prompto keeps watching the car until he can’t see it anymore. Something makes his chest constrict, and he takes a deep breath to try and ease the tension settling between his ribs. Nyx had stayed to make sure Prompto was safe and secure. Cor had stayed outside until Prompto wasn’t in his sights anymore. He swallows the lump forming in his throat at that realization, not wanting to think about that too deeply right now, and heads to the kitchen to deposit the food onto the table, turning on the lights in there as well.

For a moment Prompto does nothing. Even though it’s just a simple box with a ribbon around it, the package is still really beautiful. It’s all crisp, clean lines — there’s even a black wax seal of the Lucian crest keeping the ribbon in place in the centre, and he hates the idea of ruining it. Taking out his camera again, Prompto takes a few pictures of the box itself, as well as an up-close shot of the wax crest. The wax is shimmery upon inspection, and it’s so pretty.

Prompto takes great care in removing the ribbon and the wax seal so he doesn’t damage any part of it, and sets it aside gently. He lifts the lid of the box to find many various containers. The containers themselves are white with black lids, and look like fancier, reusable, and more durable versions of take-out containers. Prompto wonders for a moment if he’s going to have to return everything once he’s finished, and makes a point to ask someone about it later. Noctis would probably tell him just to keep them, but he would feel too guilty if he didn’t check with someone else about it first.

Once all of the containers are set onto the table, with the box set safely aside, Prompto removes the lids of each one. A delicious aroma fills the space, and he can feel his mouth watering already. It smells so good — better than anything he has ever had before in his life, and it makes his heart swell.

There’s a few different kinds of rice as well as potatoes, all cooked differently; sliced chickatrice and some kind of steak that Prompto can’t identify - but it’s cooked and sliced to perfection; there’s lemon garlic shrimp; and several containers of different kinds of vegetables, both roasted and glazed. Some of the containers have soup, and Prompto has identified those as chickatrice noodle, leek and potato, and dumpling. There’s even a container that’s just desserts: assorted tarts and cookies, and a few slices of a couple of different kinds of cakes he’s never seen before.

It’s so much food. He probably has at least four days of meals here, assuming he has some of it for every meal of the day. Prompto arranges all of the containers of food on the table in a way that looks visually appealing, and takes pictures of everything.

It’s almost too beautiful to eat, and Prompto doesn’t want to ruin it, but he’s also very hungry and he can’t hold out anymore. Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, and some utensils from the drawer, he sits down at the table and starts putting just a little bit of everything - save for the soups and desserts, onto his plate.

What did he do to deserve this? Ignis did not have to do this and go through all of this effort just for him. But he did. Prompto’s throat tightens, and he can feel that familiar pressure behind his eyes again.

He spears a thin slice of steak, bringing the fork to his mouth and bites off a small piece of it. It’s so tender and juicy, and it seems to just melt in his mouth as he chews — the flavour is better than anything he could ever describe. He tries some rice and roasted vegetables - and yes - it’s just as delicious. Everything compliments each other and it’s all so perfect. The warmth of the meal spreads throughout him, and it makes his chest ache.

And it’s all so good.

And it’s all so much.

And Prompto has to stop eating because he’s crying again.

It’s overwhelming and he can’t help it. Prompto drops his fork onto the plate and puts his head in his hands and sobs, his entire body shaking. He’s never been treated with as much kindness and generosity and care before, and not just with the food, but everything that has happened today. He’s always only ever been just a worthless nobody that no one ever seemed to pay any mind or give much consideration to. Until Noctis came into his life, and those with him.

There’s a buzzing in his back pocket and cheerful music starts playing. Prompto pulls his cell phone out and looks at the screen. There’s text messages from three different hidden numbers. He unlocks his phone and opens the text from the first number. It’s all in one message, in paragraphs, and the tone is formal.

‘Prompto Argentum, I beg your pardon for disturbing you. This is Ignis Scientia, and I’m His Highness’ Royal Advisor. You are welcome to call me Ignis. I am aware of the events that have happened to you both prior and during your time in Citadel today, and how long you’ve been kept there.

Don’t worry, I was not given any details, and I won’t pry without your consent. However, I feared you may not have had anything to eat all afternoon, so I hope the food I prepared for you is both to your liking, and serves as an adequate apology. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything that you like in particular, so that I can make it for you in the future.

I know we’ve only met on occasion, and we haven’t had much of a chance to really get to know each other, but if you’re up to it, you’re always welcome to stop by my apartment within the Citadel if you’d like to get together. I am busy most days, but it would be nice to have some company regardless. I know I could use another friend.

Do let me know at your earliest convenience, and I hope you don’t mind that I asked Noctis for your cell phone number. I’ve included my contact number, and you can save it if you so choose. Have a pleasant evening, Prompto.’

Prompto opens the message from the second number. This one is far more casual, and there’s multiple texts.

‘Hey Prompto it’s Gladio.’
‘Well, Gladiolus Amiticia. I serve as Noctis’ Shield. I’m sure you know that. But just call me Gladio.’
‘Noct tells me you like to run and I’ve been looking for a new training partner. So how about it?’
‘Feel up to a 5K run with me at 5am the day after tomorrow? No pressure though.’
‘I dunno how you got the Princess to run all over Insomnia with you. I could scarcely believe it when he told me you both led the Glaives on a wild chocobo chase. I didn’t think he’d actually do it!’
‘So you gotta tell me your secrets! I can’t get that lazy garula to do anything.’
‘Here’s my number. Keep in touch. Goodnight!’
‘I got your number from Noct by the way.’

This is already too much. Prompto opens the message from the last number, and he can already tell who this is from the first two words.

‘Hey kid its me Cor. I just want to give you my number in case you need anything. I asked his highness for yours and I just want you to know you can call or text me anytime okay? I’m always busy but if you need someone to talk to I’m here for you kid. I’m lookin out for you. Have a goodnight alright?’

Prompto chokes out a few more sobs, and wipes his face with his free hand. He saves the new contact numbers in his phone, and stares at the messages on the screen. Ignis, Gladio, and Cor want to spend time with him. All three of them reached out to him on their own offering friendship, and this is more than Prompto could have ever asked for.

There’s another buzz as his phone chimes again. It’s a text from Noctis, and Prompto opens it immediately.

‘Hey Prom. How are you?’

‘I’m okay. How are you?’

‘I’m okay.’
‘Sorry about the guys. they wouldn’t stop harassing me for your number 😅’

‘It’s okay. I don’t mind’
‘Kinda nice to have other ppl to talk to😊’

‘You saying I’m not good enough for you now?😏’

‘Lemme think…’
‘……nope!😛’

‘Ouch Prompto😢 that’s cold🥶’

‘#Sorrynotsorry😌’

‘Damn😅’

‘But seriously dude’
‘Thank you’

‘You’re welcome’

‘It means a lot to me’

‘Well... you mean a lot to me Prom’

‘You mean a lot to me too Noct’

His phone immediately starts ringing and Prompto’s heart skips a beat. He answers it before he can think.

“Noct?”

“You mean that Prom?” Noctis’ voice is gentle but serious.

“Yes.”

“Prompto…”

“Noctis?”

Noctis sighs audibly, and Prompto knows he’s frustrated, and he knows how difficult it is for Noct to sort his thoughts and feelings. It’s a lot and Prompto’s own mind is racing.

A few minutes pass and they’re both not saying anything, neither sure what to say, but Prompto doesn’t mind. It’s just nice to have Noct’s company all the same.

Eventually Noctis speaks again.

“I’ll um… I guess I should let you go now, it’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Prompto can’t help but feel a little disappointment at that.

“I’m sorry.” Noctis says, picking up on his change of tone.

“Nah! Don’t be!” He forces a laugh. “For little ol’ me? Puh-leeze, Noct, I’m not important.”

“Don’t say that.” Noctis sounds hurt. Dammit, his comment backfires. How can he convince Noct that he’s just not worth worrying about?

“What? It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is, Prompto… You’re everything.” Noctis says it with a quiet certainty, like nothing could ever make him doubt. It challenges every insecurity Prompto has.

Prompto doesn’t know what to think. His mind is in jumbles and he can’t process anything. It’s confusing, and yet nothing has ever made this much sense before. His stomach won’t stop fluttering, and ribs are too tight for his lungs and his heart. There’s too much inside of him and he can’t contain it — the ache is as painful as it is comforting and it feels so right. His lungs hitch as he tries to breathe through these overflowing emotions.

It’s too much and it’s not enough, and Prompto wants more.

“So are you.” Prompto’s voice breaks, and he wipes the tears spilling down his face.

There is a soft chuckle, and Noctis’ voice is gentle and very happy, “I’ll text you tomorrow. See you next Friday, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sweet dreams, Prom.”

“Sweet dreams, Noct.”

Prompto sets his phone down on the table, trying to gather his thoughts as his blood pounds in his ears. He grabs his camera from his other back pocket, turning it on and flicking through the photos on the screen until he stops at the selfie he took of him and Noctis on the rooftop of that apartment building. He’s surprised he hasn’t looked at it yet.

The late sunlight bathes them both in oranges and yellows. Prompto is leaning against Noctis’ side, his neck supported on Noct’s shoulder, and he’s looking straight at the camera with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His face is flushed, and his hair and clothes are a dishevelled mess — completely wind-swept.

Noctis has his arm around Prompto, and his hair and clothes are just as rumpled. But he’s not facing the camera, not completely. His face is turned towards Prompto just slightly, and his expression is relaxed and soft. There’s a slight smile on his lips, and he’s blushing. And he gazes at Prompto like he is the most important thing in the world.

“Noct…” Prompto exhales the name, and the camera shakes in his hands. He feels light. Something unlocks in chest and opens up, and it makes him smile.

He loves Noctis. He loves Noctis more than he’s ever loved anything. Love. It‘s love. And it washes over him and settles deep in the marrow of his bones, and makes a home there.

Prompto holds the camera to his chest over his heart, closes his eyes, and thanks the Astrals for the people that have come into his life.

The week goes by quickly. Prompto has taken to running with Gladio each morning, and it’s been nice to have someone there with him to not only offer him pointers and give advice on how to improve, but to also challenge him as well. He hasn’t won a race against Gladio yet, but he will one of these days.

The afternoons are spent at Ignis’ apartment. Ignis usually has other work that he’s in the middle of, but they sit in companionable silence doing their own thing. It’s just nice to actually have someone else there, in case either of them actually feel like striking up a conversation while still keeping occupied on their own things. Ignis has also begun teaching Prompto some of the basics of preparing and cooking meals, usually simple things — but even those simple things have significantly improved Prompto’s meagre skills in the kitchen when he’s back at his own place. Ignis also told him he can keep those fancy take-out containers if he wants.

And while Prompto doesn’t really know what to talk about with Cor, he does text Cor photos he takes as he’s going about his day: a selfie with a stray cat; a close-up of the spokes of a bicycle; the architecture of some small business that is interesting and less-modern. Cor isn’t much for conversation either, but he usually finds something about the photos Prompto sends him to compliment, as stilted as his messages are. And it makes Prompto so happy.

He still texts Noctis every day, as they’ve always been doing, though it’s just not the same as being able to actually be with Noctis. To actually be in his presence, face to face, to play games or watch some stupid show together, and share in that physical closeness. But at least Prompto doesn’t feel so alone anymore, he actually feels like a person — a person that others enjoy having around, conversing and spending time with. And he wants this to last forever.

It’s 4:00 AM Friday morning when Prompto’s alarm goes off. He wakes up and goes through his morning routine of getting ready to go for his run with Gladio: go to the bathroom, head to the kitchen to drink a protein shake - courtesy of Gladio, go back to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, change into his running gear, and do his warm-up stretches - also courtesy of Gladio. It’s 4:50 AM when he finishes, and about time to head out and meet Gladio for their run.

Making sure he’s got his keys in hand, with his wallet, phone and camera safe in his hip bag, Prompto heads to the porch to put his running shoes on. By the time he’s finished his run and had a shower, Noctis will probably be awake, and then they can make plans to hang out later today. Noctis’ punishment has ended after all, with both Ignis and Gladio confirming that the Prince has, indeed, learned his lesson.

Prompto is buzzing with excitement and energy, and he’s ready to get this day started.

He opens the front door and—

“Noct!?” Prompto jumps, dropping his keys.

Noctis is standing there, looking only half-alive at what he, himself, would definitely consider an ungodly hour, clad in black workout clothes, and with his hand raised up as if he is about to knock on a door.

Prompto picks up his keys, “What are you doing here? Awake? This early in the morning?”

A lazy smile crosses Noctis’ features, and he blinks slowly, still not completely awake, “What, is this the thanks I get for coming to surprise you?” There’s no venom behind his words at all.

“Are you… you’re not going on a run with me and Gladio, are you?”

“Looks like it.”

“How come? I thought you hated being up this early. And running.”

“I do. But I just…” Noct steps closer to Prompto, crowding him in the doorway, “I want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

“Noctis.” Prompto can feel his face heating up as his heart starts racing.

Noctis brings his hands up to cup Prompto’s face, the pads of his thumbs gently brushing the soft, freckled skin beneath. Prompto can’t do anything except gaze into those midnight blue eyes and wonders if Noctis can feel how fast his pulse is — if he can feel what he does to him.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, and Prompto can only nod. Noctis moves closer, and brushes his nose against Prompto’s, like he did a week ago on a rooftop of some apartment, and it makes Prompto gasp and close his eyes.

“Noct.” He shudders, and grips his hands onto the front of Noctis’ shirt — a lifeline.

“Prom.” The scent of chocolate ghosts over Prompto’s face, then Noctis presses his lips to Prompto’s and kisses him.

Prompto inhales sharply through his nose at the contact. The ache in his chest expands and his heart and lungs feel like they could burst through his ribs, before collapsing and expanding even more. He is galaxies forming and dying and reforming again. An explosion of lights and particles and atoms and nothing and everything. He’s completely overcome, and he drowns in all that he feels for Noctis.

When Noctis pulls away, Prompto opens his eyes. Or he tries to. His eyelids feel heavy, and he is sure he’s on another plane of existence right now. His head is swimming; all of his thoughts are swirling together, a spiraling mass of stars and planets and oceans — and he can’t think. But he thinks he likes that.

“I love you, Prompto.” Noct says it like it’s the most simplest, and easiest thing.

“I love you.” Prompto says. And it is.

Noctis is blushing and he smiles. He looks like he just rolled out of bed because he’s still got sleep in his eyes and he didn’t even bother brushing out his bed head, and he’s the most beautiful thing Prompto has ever seen.

It shifts something inside of Prompto, that bone-deep feeling, and he realizes what it is. It’s home.

So this is what home feels like.