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Prompto couldn’t sleep.
He tried to tell himself it was the heat. The uncomfortable bed. The noise of the shoddy, half-broken air-conditioning, futilely trying to lower the temperature of the room. Sure, the desert got cold at night, but it took a long time for the heat to dissipate. Even stripped to his underwear he was still a sweating mess. The weird smell in the motel room from the sweat of a hundred bodies before him. The taste of sand that never seemed to leave his mouth. The vague anxiety that had settled over him the day he’d left with Noctis, the feeling like something was watching him out of every corner of every room.
It wasn’t any of those things keeping him awake.
Gladiolus’ presence was heavy beside him. Earlier, they’d been cracking wise about having to share a bed – the floor was scratchy carpet, they were both tired, what would it matter? The prince and Ignis were probably doing the same – unless Ignis was stiffly on the floor, which wouldn’t surprise Prompto. But maybe Noctis had managed to convince Ignis to pull the stick out of his ass for one night.
The gap between the curtains let in just enough light for Prompto to make out the ceiling. If he looked out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Gladiolus’ heavily muscled form, tilting the bed slightly. Somehow between laughing and stripping down (as if they hadn’t seen each other before when they sparred, when they were in the baths), it had suddenly mattered. Just how tall Gladiolus was, how muscular. He made Prompto feel scrawny, short. Inadequate.
If he moved his hand three inches, maybe a little less, he’d touch Gladiolus’ bare back. The taller man was on his side, curled so he could fit his giant frame onto the bed. It left Prompto with less space to himself, but it wasn’t like he needed much anyway. Not anymore.
He should roll onto his side, he told himself. Give Gladiolus some more room. But if he moved, then Gladiolus would know he was still awake and it would make things even more awkward. They’d gotten into bed an hour ago and Prompto was fairly certain Gladiolus was as awake as he was. Even though the air-conditioning sounded like it was dying, spluttering out its last breaths, Prompto didn’t dare turn it off. It was the only thing masking his fitful breathing, his long, frustrated sighs.
“Ahh, it’s so damn hot,” Prompto said, a little too loudly, his voice filling the room. “Do you think the ice machine is working?”
“What the hell are you going to do with a bucket of ice?” Gladiolus shifted slightly, rolling onto his back and bending his knees so his feet fit on the bed, his hands under his head.
“Drown in it?” Prompto joked, trying not to be aware of how close Gladiolus’ elbow was to him. Failing.
Gladiolus scoffed. “You wouldn’t be able to find a bucket big enough to fit your stupid hairstyle.”
“Stupid!” Prompto protested, automatically lifting his fingers to his blond hair. “What-“
“It looks like a chocobo butt.” Gladiolus’ voice was warm, teasing.
“Your face looks like a chocobo butt.” Prompto folded his arms over his chest. His skin was sticky with sweat. He grimaced and pulled his arms away. They felt too long, awkward, with nowhere to fit them except by his sides. His fingers twitched – Gladiolus was so close.
Gladiolus just chuckled, shifting on the bed as he stretched out. “Maybe I should sleep on the floor.” It sounded like he was muttering to himself. “More room.” He’d complained about it earlier – he could almost keep his feet on the ground and his head on the pillow, the bed was so short.
“More room – you’re taking up almost the whole bed.” Prompto huffed.
“Go get your stupid ice so I can have the whole thing.” Gladiolus nudged Prompto’s head with his elbow.
Prompto rolled off the bed, landing unsteadily on his feet. He felt around his feet for his shirt, his pants. His belt buckle jangled as he pulled them on.
“Are you getting dressed? Dude, just go in your boxers.” Gladiolus had rolled over, watching him in the faint light.
“Someone might be out there,” Prompto muttered, pulling his shirt over his head. It smelled as unpleasantly as the hotel sheets.
“In a shitty motel in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere when we’re probably the only guests?” Gladiolus scoffed at him.
“You never know,” Prompto said, trying to sound airier than he felt. Someone like Gladiolus wouldn’t get it, even if he wanted to explain. Which he didn’t. Mostly. He shoved his bare feet into his shoes – no way would he go outside barefoot.
Gladiolus scoffed again as Prompto crossed to the door. “Hey, bring me a drink,” he called as Prompto opened the door, bucket in hand.
“Yeah, maybe.” Prompto lifted his free hand in acknowledgement as he went through the door. He leaned his forehead against it after he closed it, trying to clear his mind. It didn’t work.
The night air outside made his skin feel even stickier. He swatted bugs away as he went to the ice machine. It was working as well as the air-conditioning, chugging away in the night like a dying animal. Between its shuddering noises he thought he could hear the low tones of conversation from the other room – Ignis and Noctis. It made him feel a little better that he wasn’t the only one unable to sleep.
Inside, the ice was half melted. Prompto grimaced and scooped up some of the cold water, trying to get as much ice as he could. He almost wanted to put his head in there and inhale some of the cool air. But Ignis would complain about spreading germs, tainting the rest of the slushy water. He glanced at the bucket, considering.
His head didn’t fit. He felt like an idiot for even trying. At least no one was around to see him. Prompto squinted into the night, past the Regalia, making sure. Nothing but darkness and the sound of insects. He turned to the vending machine.
The kind of soda Gladiolus liked wasn’t in it. Prompto frowned, jingling the coins in his pocket. The last time Gladiolus had found a vending machine without his favourite kind of drink, he’d sat and gone through every type in the machine, deeming them all worthless. Except one. Prompto furrowed his brow, leaning a hand against the front of the machine. It was that one, right? Prompto nodded to himself, remembering.
He locked the door behind him, kicking off his boots. “Got your soda.” He tossed it towards the figure on the bed – Gladiolus was sitting on the edge now, slightly hunched over.
Gladiolus caught it one-handed. “Thanks, Prompto.” He smiled faintly.
“It’s not the one you like.” Prompto took his ice to the bedside cabinet, shoving the lamp aside to put it down. “But you don’t have to repeat the last time that happened, it’s the one you didn’t hate,” he teased.
He went into the bathroom to get a towel. When he came back, Gladiolus had moved to the foot of the bed and was giving him a curious look.
“What?” Prompto touched his hair, wondering if there was a bug caught in it.
“You remembered something like that?” Gladiolus asked, opening the can.
“Well, yeah.” Prompto shrugged, dunking the towel in the melting ice. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t remember something like that?” He grinned awkwardly and hoped Gladiolus didn’t notice the strain behind it.
“I thought you were the prince’s friend.” Gladiolus shifted on the bed, the springs creaking.
“What, I can only have one?” Prompto rolled his eyes. “You and Iggy are both my friends too, Gladio.” He shrugged, looked back down at the towel and poked it further into the bucket.
“Huh.” Gladiolus downed half the soda in one gulp. “I don’t think I’d remember something like that.”
Prompto wrung the towel out. “Well, I guess that just makes me a better friend than you,” he joked.
“If you’re such a good friend, you’ll give me a wet towel too.” Gladiolus pointed out before downing the rest of the soda.
Prompto sighed. He really should have expected it. “Fine.” He balled the towel up and tossed it towards Gladiolus.
When he came back from the bathroom with the other one, Gladiolus was lying back in bed, the towel over his chest and stomach. Prompto soaked his, chewing at his bottom lip.
“Do you think Noct is gonna be okay?” he asked, staring down at the towel.
“He’ll be okay.” Gladiolus’ voice was quiet. “He’s got us, right? What else matters?” His cheery voice sounded a little forced.
“Yeah.” Prompto wrung out the towel. “I guess.” He could think of a list, a long list of other things. He glanced towards Gladiolus, then glanced away.
He turned his back and stripped out of his clothes. Gladiolus was quiet as Prompto got into bed, draping the icy cloth over him like a sheet.
“G’night, Gladio,” Prompto said, trying to get comfortable. Failing. The air-conditioner masked his sigh.
“Night, Prompto,” Gladiolus replied, stretching out again.
The movement made the mattress sink slightly, and Prompto slid a little towards Gladiolus. His hand, his traitorous hand, brushed against the other man’s thigh. He snatched it back.
“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his face warming more than the rest of him.
“For what?” Gladiolus sounded unconcerned.
Prompto felt the minutes ticking by, each one taking an hour. The words burned on his tongue, eager to escape. “Hey, Gladio?”
“What?” Gladiolus sighed slightly.
“Nothing,” Prompto said, shifting a little. At least he wasn’t as hot as he’d been before. Well, except his face.
“Spit it out before you choke on it.” Gladiolus moved his arms from under his head and nudged Prompto with an elbow.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Prompto said, trying not to choke on the words as they fled out his mouth.
“Here in general, or here in this bed?” Gladiolus teased.
“What?” Prompto choked on his spit and coughed. “Um-“ He sat up, coughing harder.
Gladiolus chuckled. “Relax, kid. I’m only joking.” The springs creaked and Prompto felt Gladiolus’ hand hit his back softly a few times.
Prompto gulped some of the cool water from the ice bucket. Of course he was only joking. He coughed a few more times, struggling to think of a way to deflect. His fingers, damp with sweat, twisted in his hair.
“You know, I’m glad you’re here too,” Gladiolus said as he settled back down – Prompto could feel the bed shifting behind him.
“Y-You are?” Prompto turned slightly, sitting on the edge of the bed. His heart was hammering in his chest.
“Yeah.” Gladiolus nodded to himself. “I can’t imagine how stuffy this whole adventure would be with only Noctis and Ignis. Can you imagine?” Gladiolus covered his face with his hand and groaned. “It’s nice to have someone around who knows how to smile,” he added, putting his hands behind his head.
“O-Oh. Right.” Prompto turned back to the curtain, took a deep breath. “Yeah.” He let his breath out in a sigh as he lay back down again. He wanted to hide his face under the damp towel, but Gladiolus would notice, ask him why, and Prompto couldn’t think of a reason he would want to share.
“Good night,” Gladiolus said, yawning loudly.
“Night,” Prompto replied, catching the yawn and feeling his jaws ache.
The air wasn’t as thick with heat anymore. He might actually be able to sleep. He yawned again, quiet. At least he hadn’t made a total ass of himself. Probably. He nuzzled into the pillow slightly, turning on his side. Maybe if he couldn’t see Gladiolus, he could forget the other man was there. As if that could happen.
He woke up to the stifling heat, his skin feeling like it was leaking sweat from every pore. Prompto groaned, not wanting to open his eyes, to be awake. He shifted slightly, then froze, his muscles tensing.
It wasn’t the weather making his skin slick with sweat, making his blood feel half-boiled. There was an arm, thick and heavy, around Prompto’s waist. His back was pressed against a wall of muscle. Not just his back – his thighs, his legs. His ass, which made Prompto want to move even more than he had a second ago.
He tried a cautious wriggle. Even if he wanted to stay still, to enjoy the feeling of all that hard muscle pressing against him, Gladiolus would kill him. Probably. But the wriggle just made Gladiolus sigh and nuzzle against Prompto’s hair, blowing a hot breath into his ear.
Prompto bit back a tiny noise that might have been a squeal, feeling a shiver run from his ear all the way down to the base of his spine. He glared at the sunlight slicing through the gap in the curtains. When he’d thought about all the ways he might die, this had not been one of them. If Gladiolus woke up before Prompto got away, he would be the first person ever to die of embarrassment.
He tried another cautious wriggle, trying to slide down under the arm pinning him against the bed. Gladiolus shifted, pulling Prompto closer. Prompto’s heart leapt to his throat and fluttered there, on the verge of choking him. Maybe he should just play dead, he thought. No – Gladiolus would tease him mercilessly. Wouldn’t he?
Prompto glared harder at the window. He needed to get up and have a shower. A cold shower. Maybe he should just fling himself out of the bed, be gone before Gladiolus could realize what had happened. He tensed his muscles, preparing to do just that-
“Man, morning already?” Gladiolus said, tensing his fingers around Prompto’s bare stomach.
Prompto swallowed hard. “S-Seems that way.” He tried to sound flippant and failed miserably. His face felt like it was on fire, singeing the tips of hair that brushed against his cheeks.
Gladiolus seemed to pull Prompto closer – just for a moment – and then he was rolling over to his back, groaning. “Feels like I just got to sleep,” he complained.
Prompto bounded off the bed and ended up tangling his feet in his discarded shirt, almost tripping. He heard Gladiolus laugh and felt his face heat up even more. He practically ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
The cold water helped. Mostly. Until it went from cold to tepid, and then he felt like he was showering in his own sweat. He turned the water off, disgusted. His fingers reached for a towel, only to find air.
Shit.
He brushed his teeth while he considered. Two towels, both in the bed. And his clothes right beside it. He was an idiot. He rinsed his mouth and spat, then looked at himself in the mirror with narrowed blue eyes.
“Idiot,” he mouthed, putting his fingers in his wet hair and tugging it into place.
There was a knock on the door. It opened before Prompto could tell Gladiolus not to enter.
“Here.” Gladiolus shoved a towel at him. “You forgot this in your rush.” He sounded like he was on the verge of laughing again.
“T-Thanks.” Prompto took it, watched the way Gladiolus’ amber eyes dipped. Prompto was faster, whipping the towel around him.
Gladiolus closed the door. Prompto could hear him chuckling on the other side.
Prompto adjusted the towel and went back to the mirror. His face was red, blotching out his freckles. He concentrated on his hair, trying not to think about Gladiolus’ eyes, the touch of his skin against his. He didn’t want to have another shower. He gave himself a few minutes, just enough time to calm his racing heart, to shove his thoughts back down.
When he opened the door, Gladiolus stood up from the bed, towel in hand. “About time,” he teased, brushing past Prompto on the way into the bathroom.
Prompto swallowed. Hard. Found his clothes. Clean clothes. He dressed quickly, straining to hear if the door was about to suddenly open again. Which was ridiculous, since Gladiolus had just turned the water on.
After he’d packed everything away, Prompto sat on the edge of the bed, going through the pictures on his camera. Noctis. Sleeping, scowling, eating. If he had his old memory card, there would be pictures of Noctis smiling. A lot more. Prompto sighed and flicked through the rest. Ignis scowling, looking disapproving of everything. Gladiolus, sometimes too big to fit in the frame. Looking at them made him smile, even while his stomach was tying itself in knots.
The pictures weren’t all full of scowls and grumpy looks. He’d gotten a few pictures of the others smiling – even Noctis. Prompto ran his finger down a group shot he’d gotten after telling a terrible joke, the way everyone had smiled and rolled their eyes. He might just be a common plebe to the rest of them, but at least he could make them laugh. He tried not to look too hard at Gladiolus in the picture, smiling, eyes on the camera. Looking at him.
“Hey.” A foot nudged his boot. Prompto looked up, then up some more. Gladiolus was in a towel, his brown hair dripping over his shoulders.
“Yes?” Prompto tilted his head slightly, putting his camera screen down beside him. He hadn’t even heard the door open, or Gladiolus’ heavy footsteps. And now all he could hear was the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears.
“You’ve got something in your hair, you know.” Gladiolus touched a hand to the side of Prompto’s head, his fingers snaking through Prompto’s damp hair.
Prompto's fingers twitched. He could get the bug out himself, he wanted to say, was opening his mouth to say.
Gladiolus swooped down, using his thumb against Prompto’s jaw to tilt his head slightly. He was kissing him, Prompto realized, his heart jumping into his mouth, into Gladiolus’ mouth. Just when Prompto realized he ought to be kissing back, Gladiolus pulled away, smiling.
“Fixed it.” He grinned, his cheeks reddening slightly. He pulled his hand away, and Prompto thought Gladiolus looked shy.
“You-“ Prompto swallowed, clearing his throat. “What?” He shook his head once, twice. “What?”
Gladiolus let out a chuckle that Prompto could have sworn was nervous. Except he’d never heard Gladiolus nervous before. “That bad?” he teased, but there was an undercurrent of something else in his voice. Maybe Prompto was just imagining it.
“Bad?” Prompto echoed. He shook his head again and swallowed hard. He was afraid, his fingers trembling. It didn’t matter. He stood in a quick, fluid motion.
Gladiolus stood his ground, looking down at him. Even Prompto’s boots didn’t help close the distance between their heights. Gladiolus opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.
Prompto met Gladiolus' gaze, his fingers clenching. He lifted his hands, putting them around the back of Gladiolus’ neck to pull his head down. “Not bad,” he said, swallowing his nerves and standing on his toes. He had to, to be able to brush his lips against Gladiolus’. Once, testing the waters. Twice, when Gladiolus hadn’t pulled away or laughed at him. The third time Prompto kissed him properly, the way he’d been wanting to.
Gladiolus slowly slid his hands down Prompto’s sides as he kissed him back. Put his hands on Prompto’s hips, pulling him in closer, kissing him harder. Prompto’s hands slid down Gladiolus’ shoulders, down his tattooed arms. His skin was still cool, damp from the shower. Gladiolus’ hands moved up and twisted in Prompto’s hair. The less he concentrated on the kiss, Prompto thought, the less chance he’d screw it up.
There was a banging on the door. “Oi.” Noctis’ voice drawled loudly. “Hurry up.”
Prompto jerked back. Gladiolus let him go, watching him a little warily, even as he called out to Noctis. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I thought you liked girls,” Prompto said in a soft voice as Gladiolus kept watching him.
Gladiolus shook his head slightly. “I thought you liked the prince.”
Prompto shook his head slowly, mirroring the other man. Gladiolus smiled. “I see.” He nodded to himself. He turned, picked his bag up and set it on the bed. Rummaged for his clothes.
Prompto went back to looking at the camera, his heart bouncing around his chest. “You’re not…” He swallowed, looked down at his fingers. “You’re not going to kiss and tell, are you?”
Gladiolus grunted. “Nah.” Prompto could hear the sound of cloth rustling as the man dressed. “Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation, being seen with a commoner like you,” he goaded.
Prompto looked up, an angry retort on his lips. Then he coughed, looked down again. “Can’t you button your shirt up just once?” he muttered, standing and getting his bag, checking the room for anything left behind.
Gladiolus chuckled. “What’s the point when I’d just rip them out again?” He slapped Prompto lightly on the shoulder. “Come on. They’ll think we’re up to something.”
Prompto gave him a pained look and Gladiolus chuckled again. He left first, bag in hand. Prompto swallowed hard before following behind.
Ignis was already in the driver’s seat, looking impatient. Noctis was behind him, already slumping against the door.
“Slow,” Noctis said, drawing the word out.
“Sorry.” Prompto threw his bag in the back, sliding into the car. “Had to fix my hair, you know.” He grinned. He felt giddy, like he might float off into the sky at any moment.
Gladiolus chuckled to himself as he got into the car, his weight making it shift. “Worse than Noctis,” he commented, shifting and glancing back at them both.
Noctis scowled, slouched further. “Wake me up if anything interesting happens,” he muttered, covering his eyes with his arm.
“Sure,” Prompto said. “Hey, are we gonna stop for something to eat? I’m hungry,” he whined. His stomach growled softly.
“You’re always hungry,” Gladiolus said. Prompto had to swallow his heart again as it leapt into his throat. All this swallowing was making his throat hurt. He cast a longing glance to the vending machine behind them.
“I’m sure there will be an adequate diner on the way,” Ignis said, gunning the engine, pulling smoothly out of the motel parking lot.
“Yeah,” Prompto said to himself. He pulled his camera out, took a picture of Noctis sleeping, of Ignis driving. Of Gladiolus looking out towards the desert, the wind ruffling his damp hair. There’d be time to talk about it later, he told himself. He didn’t have to get all anxious. Besides, what did one – a handful – of kisses really matter, compared to everything else?
He looked out into the desert, following Gladiolus’ line of sight. Sand, scraggly trees. He glanced back, caught Gladiolus’ eye. The man smiled, a soft curve of his lips. Prompto swallowed, feeling his face turning red. Prompto looked away first, fingers twisting in his long bangs. Maybe, he thought, feeling like a traitor for it as he glanced towards Noctis, there were other things that could matter too.