Promptis Prompt(o)
I asked few a few prompt(os) and @thedarkrose17 requested promptis at an arcade Just a little ficlet so I don’t know if I’ll post to ao3, but for now, here it is. Please enjoy
Game recognizes game. Prompto smiled, he didn’t see any game here. Noctis was a champion Kings Night, a level five player, but he was an absolute plebe at the crane machine and a fawn on fresh legs at spider stomp.
“Oh, oh!” Prompto held onto Noctis shoulder, the crane was losing his grip! Hold on, hold on—and it fell. Prompto laughed and Noctis scowled. The adventure at the arcade had become less venture and more add another 30 gil to my game card please. Prompto hadn’t played in thirty minutes. He had Noctis’ back. He was patient and enthusiastic. But Noctis’ frustration wasn’t fair. The high of going out after school was steadily crashing.
“Hey it’s okay,”
“I said I can get it.” Noctis cut him off. He never meant to snap. He was never instantly apologetic, and the regret came hours later once his head had cooled. He shunned any advice and drew his shoulders up high. Each turn was over, sooner than the last.
“Come on!” He pushed the machine.
Prompto longed for longer hours with Noctis, his free time was sparce. It made Prompto feel expensive. Not from the dozens of gil dropped to get the silly chocobo phone charm; it was Noctis pushing off extra hours in tutoring, time and knowledge that would eventually power the future king, was instead spent on him.
“Let’s go back to ski ball.” The chocobo was both crane prize and counter prize. Noctis had gave up on Ski ball after only getting two tickets. Really it should have been one, but the princeling had a firm grip and counted the torn second half of one ticket as two. Noctis suggested they instead be more efficient and play the crane game.
Efficient and fast; an hour later had gone by in a flash. It was still going as they were empty handed.
“It’s rigged,” Noctis pocketed his hands.
Prompto touched his wrist, “Hey. Knock that Noctittude off. It takes practice. Skill.” He walked backwards and into machine.
“Skill. You know,” Prompto stuttered, his tongue suddenly sheepish. He rubbed the back of his head and smoothed out his clothes and popped his school uniform collar up. He paid a gil for the game. The wooden balls fell down the tube in a steady stream. You couldn’t just throw the ball where you wanted it to go, you had to throw for the fall and float. The upper left corner lit up with 10,000 points.
Prompto’s excitement was not met.
The bright lit of and LED phone screen lit up Noctis’ face and outshine Prompto’s victory.
With a tight lip and in a quiet voice Prompto sighed, “right.” He slung a second wooden ball. It fell to the gutter. Noctis didn’t notice that either.
“Let’s try the money mover.”
“They glue down the gil, dude. No. Whack a mole.” Prompto hummed a tune from some commercial then pushed Noctis along once he went back for his phone and left the tickets he had won hanging out of the machine. The irritation faded, Noctis hadn’t closed his screen in time and Prompto could see his search page: how to win tickets fast at the Golden Saucer.
Prompto loaded the gill and slapped the first three moles he could. He was trying, he just was trying in the worse way possible. He wasn’t even participating on the fun games. Prompto scrambled for another two moles, Noctis was un helpful. He manned one hole and,
“Ow!” Noctis’ snapped out of his daze and looked at Prompto who smacked him again with the rubber mallet.
“Dude! Stop!” Noctis held up his forearm to shield his head, Prompto bonk’d him in the stomach.
“I’m going to hate that plush you know.”
“What?” Noctis snatched Prompto’s mallet and held it hostage, “Why?”
“You’re being a total,” Prompto didn’t finish that sentence. He and Noctis were close but this was a public space and he was the king’s son. Calling the Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum a douche nozzle didn’t seem PC.
“Like we haven’t even played house of the dead! Or gone on the dinosaur experience.”
Noctis who didn’t always think before speaking said, “Those don’t earn tickets.”
Prompto’s freckles popped under his reddening cheeks. He snatched the mallet and hammered Noctis’ stomach. “Di-no-saurs,” He annunciated with smacks.
At last, Noctis smiled, his laugh both warm and soft. He smoothed back his hair. “Dinosaurs huh?” It was another shooter game but enclosed in a box meant to be a jeep. He couldn’t whack spiders or stomp moles but he could snipe a raptor. Or a zombie.
Noctis placed one hand on his stomach and gestured with the other, “Your wish is my command. Let’s go get a dino.”
Prompto fist pumped and bounded past the flashing games to the corner with a roaring box. He nudged Noctis’ side with his elbow, see, wasn’t this cool?
“See,” Prompto slid in the left side, then over to the right chair just as Noctis had begun to sit. Prompto pushed Noctis’ hip away before he sat at on him. “Dude. I’m red.”
Rolling his eyes, Noctis conceded and strolled to the otherside. He hung in the entrance watching Prompto smile. “One sec. My card’s not going to get us through the final level.”
“Dude. Really?” Prompto kicked his legs like an impatient child. It was a good pout, one he’d been waiting to have. Noctis tapped the hood of the box and went to the counter.
He slapped two cards on the glass display case, “Fifty gil.”
Yes sir, the attendant turned his back and loaded his customer up. When he returned the cards, purple eyes with an otherworldly glow gunned him down. The eyes looked down, the attendant’s dutifully followed. Between them was another fifty. Cash.
“What’s the name on the card?” Noctis asked. This was not a card he pulled often. No one forgot who he was, and he did not seek to remind them. His family never asked for kickbacks, favors, or special treatment. But this was an exception. He had fucked up. He missed a moment when Prompto had stopped having fun. Noctis needed to fix it. He needed that damn chocobo.
“Yes, sir.” The attendant swallowed, Noctis pointed. The man nodded and swapped cash for chocobo.
Like that, the air of the ancients was gone, “Cool.” Noctis said in an even voice. He returned his credit card to his wallet. That was unnecessary, he could hear his retainers scolding him even in their absence.
“Prompto.” Noctis sat down heavily and swiped his point card for the first round of credits.
They hadn’t beaten the game when Noctis’ phone rang, it was the bell calling him home to attend to duties and tasks unknown.
Prompto tried to keep optimistic, “man. That game is the best.”
“No,” Noctis twisted and lay an arm over the back of the seat. Prompto’s face fell a moment, it almost made Noctis feel guilty. “But this is.”
The black chocobo plush, more fluff than stuffing, was pressed to Prompto’s cheek. Noctis even ‘warked’ in a gentle voice.
“Aw, Nah-“ Prompto’s voice caught as the fluffy-plush-peck was replaced with very real and very, very prince shaped lips. They looked at each other, then away.
“So,” Prompto stalled, “Walk me home? Do you have time?”
Noctis didn’t but he smiled, his cheeks a rosy shade that complimented Promoto’s, “of course.”
