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A heavy sigh escaped Noctis’s lips as he sunk deeper into the soft chocobo feathers pressing against his back. His chocobo did not seem to mind its new role as the prince’s personal pillow, too preoccupied with the task of lazily preening its feathers in front of the warm glow of the campfire. He yawned and stretched contentedly as he watched the flames dance sluggishly under the open, starry night sky. The wood cracked and sparks flew up into the air, a fiery shower of stardust carried away and scattered by the cool, gentle breeze. Its beauty was familiar, Noctis thought, or perhaps it was precisely because it was familiar that it was so beautiful. It put his heart at ease.
Something nudged at his foot and Noctis glanced up to find his best friend standing over him. Prompto waved and gestured vaguely at the empty space next to Noctis, so Noctis shifted over and patted the ground by his side. Prompto smiled, and it was so simple but Noctis smiled a bit too as Prompto settled down next to him, knocking their knees together as he got comfortable and laid back to enjoy their shared chocobo pillow. Noctis stared down at their legs, the way they pressed together so easily—years of familiarity evident in a single touch—and something within him stirred: a sensation of pieces falling into place, simply like the snow.
“I’m pretty sure Ignis cheats at card games,” Prompto’s voice filled the silence, and Noctis stole a glimpse of the tent where Ignis and Gladio were sitting together, shuffling a deck of worn playing cards.
Noctis snorted in amusement. “Did he kick your ass again?”
“He’s cheating, I’m telling you!” Prompto exclaimed, affronted. “I had that last round!”
“Sure you did,” Noctis said, but he made little effort to hide his smirk.
“Hey!” Prompto squawked and elbowed him in the side. Noctis raised his hands in defense and chuckled at Prompto’s indignation, not at all remorseful about teasing him. Prompto gave Noctis one last shove before they settled down, shoulders touching as they leaned against each other, laughter fading away to be replaced by the crackling of the fire.
In the stillness of the night, embraced by the quiet and the darkness, Noctis thought about Prompto’s shoulder pressing against his own. He thought about Prompto by his side, the feel of his skin and the warmth of his body. The closeness was so natural, so unquestionably a part of them that it was practically inseparable. And yet despite the familiarity, whenever he thought about it he was rendered breathless. More so than before, Noctis realized how much he valued the contact, how much he craved it. It would have terrified him had it not been for the fact that this was Prompto, the same Prompto who stood by his side, who made him smile, who grounded him and made him feel human—no, who made him feel alive. Something coiled in his stomach at the thought—fondness, thankfulness, affection—and he was nervous, perhaps, thoughts and desires dancing in his mind and in his heart, anxious for something to change.
“Hey, Prom?”
He hardly had time to think before the words escaped his lips, a soft, nervous call in the otherwise quiet night. Noctis held his breath, thoughts swirling in his mind tangled amidst the almost overwhelming emotion, but no sound reached his ears. Instead, he felt Prompto’s weight pressing more forcefully against his side, and when he finally built up the courage to look, he could not help but smile. Prompto was fast asleep, expression peaceful against his makeshift pillow. Noctis simply shook his head and shifted slightly to free his arms. As gently as he could, so as not to wake his sleeping companion, Noctis guided Prompto’s body into a more comfortable position, placing the blond’s head in his lap. Prompto hardly even stirred.
Noctis found himself studying his companion’s face, taking the time to note all of the small details: the crease of his eyebrows; the fine blond eyelashes; the curve of his lips. Mostly though, he found himself fascinated by the freckles that dusted Prompto’s nose and cheeks. He had always found Prompto’s freckles beautiful, had always loved how he could look at them and find in them a reflection of the night sky—a small, infinitely explorable galaxy of stars that twinkled and smiled back, vibrant yet inexplicable all at once, or a sprinkling of stardust, a treasured gift from the heavens. A beautiful gift—a fitting description, both for the feature and the owner of it, Noctis thought.
Almost absentmindedly, like the next natural course of action, Noctis began to reach for Prompto’s hair, feeling the soft strands against his fingertips as he slowly carded one of his hands through it. Prompto’s hair was likewise bright—the sun, or glimmering moonlight—and Noctis often found himself admiring it as well. He knew Prompto cared for it, carefully tended to it, and it was equally as beautiful as the rest of him. He thought about how soothing it was to run his fingers through it, how much he might enjoy the gesture more frequently, and was surprised to find that Prompto had begun to lean into the touch. It was hard to tell, but Noctis thought he could see the ghost of a content smile on Prompto’s face, and it only encouraged him further, to think that yes, this was definitely something he’d like to do again.
Time slipped away quietly in the background as Noctis lost himself in the small action of running his hands through Prompto’s hair, and the endless thoughts that ran through his mind as he did so. Mostly though, he just felt content, truly rested and at peace. Nothing else mattered—neither their journey nor time itself. It was just the two of them, the warmth of each other and an endless galaxy of shining stars to reach out and touch. He was almost sure that he could reach it if he tried. Everything was so close, and it made his heart squeeze tightly with unparalleled emotion, struck so suddenly by the reality of it all.
“Thank you,” He whispered as he gazed fondly down at his sleeping companion, his voice trembling slightly. “Thank you.”