Prompto is still not...entirely certain how this happened. He’s laying back on a couch in the tattoo parlor Noctis’ artist owns and the King is sitting across from him, flipping idly through a magazine. Regis’ face is drawn but he seems to be doing alright today and Prompto frowns a little deeper than before.
For all that it’s odd Regis has very much settled into his life. The awkward hug in the kitchen two weeks before had gone a long way into reminding Prompto that he’d never really had a parent, that he had no idea how to interact with one. Sure, Ignis “mom-ed” them, but in the nagging way of an older sibling who’s been put in charge for a while might, not in true parental fashion.
Noctis’ voice is muffled from the back and Prompto turns toward it a little on instinct, relaxing back into his position, stomach to couch, when he catches himself straining to see his boyfriend. Regis sighs and Prompto focuses on him again, raising an eyebrow and offering a bright smile.
“What’s up?”
Regis shakes his head and waves a hand, dismissing the question with a distracted air around him even as he tilts his head. His face pinches and Prompto sits up, concerned and already leaning forward when Regis answers.
“It’s nothing, just a little pressure somewhere along the wall. Probably a group of daemons, they’re growing bolder...no matter. Did Noctis tell you what he wanted done?”
Prompto doubts very much that it’s no matter, but he’s not someone in a place to demand answers from the King, so he let’s it go. Smiling fondly he shrugs, “No, he just said he wanted me to come with him and he wanted you to approve it I guess? You know Noct…”
Regis smiles at that and nods, “Indeed I do...well as long as it’s not another Cup Noodle…” He shakes his head as though he’s exasperated but Prompto see’s the fondness for his son’s unwieldy personality underneath.
“Doubt it, he doesn’t want Gladio to think he’s kissing up too much!”
They laugh at that, stopping only when Noctis steps out from the curtained back area of the shop. He gives them a look, raising his eyebrows in question but with a bemused sort of air that just makes Prompto snort. He doesn’t comment on it though, distracted by the new glint of metal.
“Dude!”
Regis sighs very quietly but nods his approval just the same, “You wanted us with you to see your new piercing?”
Noctis shrugs, lightly fingering the small hoop on the left side of his nose, it’s burnished silver and Prompto is surprised by how much he likes the way it looks.
“Sure...Dad can you come back here?”
Regis nods and follows Noctis out of sight, leaving Prompto staring after them with his mouth slightly open. He huffs and sinks back down on the couch, chewing the edge of his thumb slightly as he wonders what it is Noct isn’t sharing with him.
“What the hell?” He mutters quietly, not too concerned but curious. He sighs and rolls, nearly falling off as he flails to right himself. He stretches and groans, tossing an arm over his eyes and smiling to himself a little.
Noctis is only secretive when he’s trying to surprise him, or when he’s nervous and frankly, it’s pretty cute. He hears footsteps approaching again and let’s his arm flop over his head to stare up at Regis, who looks a bit smug.
“What?”
“Noctis wants you now, I suspect it will take some time, so I must be going. He’s chosen well Prompto, in many ways.”
The King winks at him and Prompto sits up quickly, head tilting as he asks, too loudly, “What’s going on? What d’you mean-what’s he chose? Regis!”
The man is already half out the door though and he waves a hand, grinning widely and getting into the car pulling to the curb while Prompto glares half-heartedly out. He watches the car pull away, sticking his tongue out at it and turning to where Noctis is hiding from him.
“FINE, don’t tell me. Rude.”
He shoves the curtain out of the way, a bubble of excitement and anticipation in his stomach as he makes his way to where Noct is bent together with a guy with long blonde hair. They’re talking quietly and quickly and Prompto rolls his eyes a little, dork.
“Hey Noct, you wanted me?”
Noctis turns to him, a little flushed and makes an odd face, nose twisting, and winces when it twinges his new piercing.
“Yeah, I uh-Prom, you don’t have to, but Zi and I came up with something and I’d like to get it with you?”
Prompto blinks and then he grins, a big spreading of his lips that hurts a little in its intensity. Noctis wants to get a tattoo with him.
“Yeah! Let me see!”
The artist turns then, raising a drawing that makes Prompto’s mouth go a little dry. One side of the paper shows a beautiful sun, delicate lines curving together and a wide burst of ray outward. It looks nothing like a lot of the bohemian style suns he’s seen before and he could easily imagine it in black lines on skin. It’s accompanied by an equally elegant moon, the sickle of it filled with the same braided lines as the sun.
They’re a nice pair and he smiles at Noctis.
“Nice, very nice.” His voice is a bit hoarse, because he gets it, the way Noctis is looking at him tells him so much.
Prompto can recall with perfect clarity, the soft murmur of Noctis voice just days ago, “You’re my sunlight Prom, the brightest spot in my life.” and his own reply, “That’s cheesy as fuck dude...but, I mean, you’re kinda like...the moon in the night, you know? You’re the only thing that guides me when it’s dark.”
He remembers the way Noctis looked, soft and open and in love, and the answering swell of feeling in his own chest. He also remembers the slight bruise on his hip from being shoved out of the bed and tackled, the silly wrestling match they’d gotten into and the accusation of being a “stereotypical cheese-lord”.
“I’ll get the moon?” He asks and Noctis nods, stepping close and reaching for his hand. He meets the gesture and squeezes his fingers, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend once, softly.
“Thanks Sunshine.” Noctis’ voice is whisper soft and Zi has turned around to give them a moment. Prompto smiles, a soft curve of his lips, “Anything Noct, always.”
For @fleetstreetfatality who is the source of Punk!chocobro things and the reason Regis is a cinnabun dad. <3
Sorry it’s not super long T.T I have more but it needs tweaked before I put it up!
Regis crosses his arms, gaze focused on Ignis’ form before him. The young man appears nervous, in his collected way, and Regis hums.
“You seem particularly concerned about my reaction to this news. Are you afraid I will continue to encourage their…friendship?”
Ignis frowns and shakes his head quickly, “No, Majesty. I am concerned you may find Noctis friend particularly talented at causing the Prince to neglect his duties. I fear that you may wish them to part. He is the first friend Noctis has truly made and they are…attached. I would advise against it. I have, at my own discretion, avoided seeking your approval of Mr. Argentum but Noctis has requested he be present at the upcoming celebration of his twentieth birthday.”
Regis raises an eyebrow, though it is reassuring that Ignis cares so deeply for his son. He smiles gently and relaxes his posture somewhat, signalling to Ignis that he wishes to discuss this as Noctis’ father rather than his King.
“You worry too much Iggy. I’ve been aware of Noctis’ interaction with Prompto for quite some time….
Ignis clears his throat, "Ah. I suppose I should’ve guessed as much. I’ve never been good at hiding things from you…you are aware then, that their relationship is often seen as less than clandestine?”
Regis resists the urge to laugh openly, “If you’re asking me if I have heard the rumor that they are fucking, I have. I have to say, it surprised me until I personally surveyed their interactions.”
Ignis’ face is carefully straight and his voice measured, “So you do not disapprove of th potential direction of their relations?”
Regis grins widely, “Ignis, if I may put this simply…I ship it.”
Ignis’ delight is poorly hidden as he adjusts his glasses, “I see. Tea tomorrow Regis?”
“Certainly Ignis”
Noctis bumps shoulders with Prompto on the bench outside the arcade. His sleeves are shoved to his elbow and Prompto is in his usual tank top, but it does nothing against the beams of summer sun pouring over them.
Noctis tilts his head back and raises an arm, the black lines on his forearm catching Prompto’s eye. He still remembers the shock of seeing Noctis’ tattoos, the way he wanted, still wants, to run his finger over the lines. This one is a skull, shaped by the lines of flowers done all in black and a single thin line of Latin text beneath it. Prompto hasn’t asked what it says, but Ignis snorts every time he see’s it, so he figures it’s #edgy.
“It’s hooooot.” Noctis complains, for the umpteenth time. Prompto shrugs a shoulder and nudges the Prince.
“I already told you, if it’s so warm, take off your jacket. It’s not like there’s any paps around here today, they won’t bother us.”
Noctis rolls his eyes and shrugs a little, “It’s whatever, Ignis will be here soon. Better not to chance it.”
Prompto wonders, if someone had told Noctis that having ink all over his arms would lead to overheating in a misguided attempt to keep his tattoos out of the public’s eye, would his friend still have gotten all of them?
He looks down at his own arms, a fox curled around a skull on one forearm and a wolf over crossed pistols on the other, and decides that, yes, Noctis still would.
He’s nervous as hell, he knows that Ignis was asking permission for him to come to Noctis’ birthday and Noctis had received the okay an hour ago, but he wasn’t prepared for the second thing Noctis said Ignis wanted of him. He was to come stay the night at the Citadel, for the very first time. He didn’t know if he was going to meet the King and he cursed his already packed bag for only containing sleeveless shirts.
He hoped that, seeing as Noctis had plenty of tattoos of his own, King Regis wouldn’t mind the lines of ink that decorated Prompto’s body, or the silver stud that flashed when he spoke to quickly.
Ignis’ car pulled up and Prompto swallowed hard, time to go then. Noctis smiled at him a little, “C’mon dude, stop trying to grow moss!”
“Yeah, yeah. Hey Iggy! Thanks for sweet talking the King!”
Ignis offered him a small and somewhat un-nerving smile,
“My pleasure Prompto.”
Prompto rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the proffered sandwich, chewing intentionally slow. Noctis’ glare does little but motivate him to take as long as possible to respond.
“ Six out of ten, on account of too much mayo and not enough cheese. Here.”
Noctis accepts a bite of Prompto’s and immediately makes a face.
“What, exactly, did you just put in my mouth?”
Prompto raises an eyebrow, “Well I mean…”
Noctis shoves at him, scowling and Prompto has to catch himself on the frame of the metal table they’re sitting at. The park is crowded and they’re lucky to have scored a seat, though Gladiolus’ bulk probably has something to do with that. The shield is far enough away to give them privacy but close enough to do his job.
It’s still weird to Prompto that they have an official security detail when they’ve never needed one before, but Regis had insisted that they do it. It made Prompto a bit awkward, since this was technically their first real date, and the security drew more attention than he and Noctis ever had on their own.
“It’s tofurkey! It’s good!” he answered Noctis’ question this time, watching the horror that crossed his...boyfriend’s? Face. Noctis immediately took a large gulp of his energy drink and shuddered.
“You’re worse than Ignis.”
Prompto gasped and clutched at his chest, swaying back as though wounded, his light tee shirt bunched under his hand.
“Help! Help! I’ve been shot! My boyfriend’s shot me!”
He kept his voice lower than usual, even as he messed about. Noctis though had caught something else and a slow smile curled his lips even as he pushed at the sleeves of his black overshirt.
“Boyfriend huh?”
Prompto ducked his head a bit, blushing as he clicked the metal bar in his tongue against his teeth, a rapidly developing nervous habit.
“Well, I mean, if you wanna put a label on it?”
Noctis tapped his chin lightly with a finger, getting Prompto to look at him, “Yeah. Boyfriend it is.”
Prompto grins widely at him but takes a large bite of his sandwich when Noctis shifts closer, making the Prince frown at him and pull back a bit. Prompto forces down the poorly chewed bite so he can explain the movement, wiping off the crumbs on the sleeve of his shirt.
“Sorry Noct! I just...with Gladio and the glaives your dad sent people keep staring at us? I don’t want you to get into trouble or something if somebody takes a picture.”
Noctis looks thoroughly unimpressed at the thought, sighing.
“Prompto, I already have to keep my tattoos mostly covered, I’m not about to resist my boyfriend because someone might see. I’m...I’m not embarrassed about this.”
His sandwich thunks onto the table and he leans in close again, making Prompto’s heart beat faster. Noctis so rarely comes out and says that kind of stuff and it makes warmth spread under his ribs. He takes a breath, if Noctis isn’t ashamed of him it’s all he needs.
He leans forward and meets the Prince, bracing himself lightly on the bench they share. It’s a soft, small kiss, just the press of their lips and the feeling of Noctis’ breath over his cheek, but it’s good.
Prompto grins when they part and Noctis’ own smile is gentle.
The first photograph of them to make a magazine cover is the two of them, smiling brightly at one another, noses a hair's breadth apart with the sun glinting off Prompto’s hair.
Regis is both pleased and morbidly disappointed. He’s glad that they enjoyed their date and that nothing hurtful is being thrust at their relationship, of course...but really. The crown Prince turns up dating a man, a commoner, and there are plenty of photos online of the two of them kissing that day, or pictures their old classmates have uploaded en masse of them, even if they are just in the background of a lot of them.
You’d think there would be more scandal involved! Regis huffs a little to himself and flips open the magazine, eyes going wide when he actually starts reading the brief article.
“Prince Noctis and freckled friend share a fun day at the park!”
The entire piece spins the two of them as very close friends and Regis laughs aloud. Right, silly him for thinking that the press wouldn’t try to make it a “platonic kiss” and practically stamp “no homo” on all the photos.
He shuts the ‘zine and tosses it onto his desk, sitting up and sorting out the papers he needs for his next meeting, maybe he can convince Ignis to buy Prompto and Noctis each the shirt he’d seen at his appearance in the new mall the week before. It’s bright colors would make it hard to miss and he’d love to see the journalists turn “Sorry girls, I like dick” platonic.
Date number six goes as smooth as all the others. Not that Prompto really considers this date six, not when he and Noctis still spend most days together, draped over furniture, playing video games, staring at offer letters for university that neither of them are ever planning on answering. Prompto had decided to pursue his photography, originally intending to get his degree but Noctis had simply had him put down as the Palace’s personal press and hired on several renowned photographers to teach him.
That had been last week’s surprise gift and Prompto still isn’t sure how to feel about it, but he’s happy that it means staying close to Noctis. He’s leaning against the wall outside the auditorium when Noctis arrives, looking annoyed.
“Sorry, Ignis thought I needed to be briefed on something instead of go to the movies. Has it started yet?”
Prompto shakes his head, “Nah, just the first previews...which I am missing out on. I grabbed Coke but you have to get the popcorn since you made me wait!”
Noctis mock groans at him but nods, “Fifth row down?”
“Duh dude.”
The Prince turns around and heads for concessions, giving Prompto a nice, uninterrupted view of his ass in the tight grey jeans he’s wearing. His white shirt clings to his torso nicely and Prompto appreciates the quarter sleeves roll around his arms.
He sighs dreamily, yeah, his boyfriend’s hot.
Noctis joins him in the theater with a large popcorn and a box of sour punch straws, chuckling at the way Prompto cringes. He holds out a box of milkduds in appeasement, gaining a quick kiss on his cheek in thanks.
Prompto settles back into the seat, focused on the opening credits and trying not to let on how excited he actually is for this. Noctis puts an end to that though, sliding an arm around his shoulders and whispering,
“I feel like I’m a kid right now...Disney movies man.”
Prompto laughs softly, leaning against his shoulder, “Just don’t sing along, yeah?”
By the end of the movie Prompto is certain both of them are not going to be able to resist humming “You’re welcome” every time someone says thank you.
“Alright, so next time Ignis tries to force you to do something stupid, you have to say it Noct, you have to!”
Noctis glares as they make their way outside, “Prompto, I am not telling him I’m “Moana of Mata-nui””
“Awww, not even for kiss?”
“No.”
“What about a blow job?”
The words are out before Prompto can give them a second thought and he turns crimson. Noctis looks a bit shocked for the space of a breadth but then his face turns thoughtful and Prompto wants to slap himself.
Not that they haven’t fooled around a little. Hell, he’d gotten pretty good with his hands lately, but all of that had been able to happen with their clothes on, at least mostly.
Technically, he supposes, a blowjob does too, but he knows Noctis better than to believe that anything that got to that point wouldn’t progress further. His internal panic is cut off though, as Noctis takes his hand, thumb rubbing the edge of the bracelet he wears.
The barcode beneath is usually something he covers, but he told Noctis about it ages ago and he doesn’t feel the same cold dread he one did when it’s visible. It’s something else they’ll have to deal with, it this thing between them lasts much longer, and Astrals, Prompto hopes it does.
“Hey, it’s cool Prom. If you’re not...we don’t have to do any of that stuff until you want to. For the record though, no. Not even then. Ignis would never let me live it down.”
Prompto scoffs at that and thinks about using the out Noctis has given him, cracking another joke and brushing the physical side of their relationship off for another night. Trouble is, he’s let himself think too much and now he finds that he wants...he wants Noctis. Now, while he’s so certain of their love.
Part 1
Prompto is still in awe of the citadel, it's wide arching ceilings and halls. He knows that Noctis has his own apartment, has spent time there for more than a year. Looking at the dark iron wrought bed frame, classic leather chairs, and soft grey walls of this room it's hard to understand why Noctis choose to live on his own.
The Prince can be heard moving about through the door to his personal bathroom. Prompto thinks about calling out to ask him if the pretty silver filigree near the ceiling is paint or something more precious, but decides against it.
He is tracing the line work with his eyes, leaning back on the black duvet of Noctis' bed, when the bathroom door opens. Prompto has seen Noctis shirtless a handful of times before, but never like this. Water is still gathered is droplets across is chest and shoulders and all of his tattoos are barred to Prompto's gaze.
The Lucian crest spreads across Noctis' ribs on his right side in grey and black. It appears to fade into his flesh at the edges and Prompto finds it a stark yet beautiful reminder of Noctis' status.
Its not his favorite piece, not by far.
Noctis seems content to let him feast his eyes, wandering to a chair and sprawling across the arms in only his towel.
It bares the words in curling ink that cross Noctis' shoulders, more latin. It read "Quod luc venit ad me duce suo" and Noctis had told him it meant "the light will come, for I am it's guide."
Prompto finds that sentiment both beautiful and sad. He knows it is another remind, carried like the weight of the duty itself on Noctis' shoulders. His destiny to crown and crystal to become the King of Light. Sometimes, like now with his drying hair and his head tilted to showcase the pale curve of his throat, Prompto believes that all the light in the world comes from within Noctis himself. Its a ridiculous notion that he tries to shake, but even with his dark eyes open and a scowl darkening his expression, Noctis has always been King in Prompto's book.
"Dude, what?"
Prompto laughs at the annoyed tone and Noctis' disgruntlement, his cheeks coloring.
"Sorry, I was just looking at your tattoos...your the one who’s allergic to clothes."
Noctis rolls his eyes and stands, giving Prompto a good view of the tree that starts at Noctis hip and curls over the long scar and around his left ribs. Its a willow tree, his mother's favorite, and the gnarled bark hides the raised and twisted flesh of Noctis' brush with death.
Prompto swallows hard, feeling the same sense of foreboding and welling sadness that he does every time he remembers both Noctis' loss and the injury. He cannot imagine what his life would have become without the Prince and knowing how close it came....it chills him.
A shirt slides over all those lines and Noctis smacks him lightly on the arm. "Dude, I know you're a blonde, but seriously stop staring."
Prompto laughs and rolls away, "well it's either stare at you or stare at the wall. I don't know where everything is here like I do at your apartment."
Noctis scoffs and holds out a hand to help Prompto up. He grabs it, but not how Noctis expects, choosing to examine his fingers instead.
"When did you get this one? Why?"
Noctis smiles softer than usual. It's a tiny umbrella, just on the side of his middle finger. It's blue plume is familiar, the color of Prompto's umbrella at home. "Couple weeks ago...I get small ones for memories, you know?"
Prompto does. He remembers the last truly rainy day, a cat had been meowing on their walk from school. Noctis had decided it might need help and they'd spent a good hour clambering around an old building to find it. It had just been cold and wet and they'd sheltered under Prompto's umbrella and gone around the neighborhood to find it's owner. A sweet faced girl with tear streaks had hugged them both and thanked them for saving "Crouton"
That Noctis choose to put something permanent on himself in memory of the day warms Prompto's whole body and makes feelings he usually tries to ignore swell.
"Thanks Noct!" He knows his eyes are watering a little and it's so stupid, but it's also the nicest thing anyone's ever done.
"Can we, uh, can we just go to bed? I'm strung out from nerves...I mean, your dad's gonna be at your party right?"
Noctis nods, sitting on the bed next to him in his boxers and tee. He pulls a face and bumps Prompto.
"You're way more freaked about meeting the King then you were about me. I'm offended Prom."
Prompto sticks out his tongue again, missing how Noctis' gaze zeroed in on the flash of silver stud.
" Yeah but like, he's your dad dude. I have to make a good impression so he doesn't realize that I'm a giant useless lump of a plebe and forbid us from hanging out. I don't think the country could survive you in a snit without me to talk Ignis into letting us do stuff."
Noctis huffed, "Its fine Prompto. Dads going to notice your a massive dork no matter what, but he's going to like you anyways. Also I can talk Ignis into things just fine, thanks."
Prompto starts tugging the cover out from under himself, getting comfortable to sleep.
"Sure Noct. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Noctis grumbles but doesn't have a suitable response as he to curls under the duvet. A quick press of a button on the bedside table darkens the room and Prompto marvels at the perks of royalty once more. Its not a long moment of marvelling though, because Noctis, out like a light already, rolls closer and the slow sound of his breathing pulls Prompto into his own dreams.
Part 1 part 2
Prompto picks at the strings of his jacket, feeling horrendously under dressed, even though Noctis has assured him that it’s not a formal event. He’s wearing white jeans and a light blue tank with his favorite jean vest over it and looking at Noctis makes him feel like they’re potato sack bits.
The Prince is wearing a crisp grey button down with the sleeves rolled back and a pair of soft black slacks that are carefully turned up where they hang perfectly above his combat boots. The boots themselves are clean and shined, a stark contrast to Prompto’s own beat up pair.
Noctis grins at him anyways and Prompto feels a bit better, accepting the stick of eyeliner that Noctis holds out to him. It always makes Prompto’s heart skip a little when Noctis wears it, his dark blue eyes stand out as their true blue grey and Prompto has to fight not to get lost.
They are officially ready and Prompto takes a deep breath, carefully moving a stray piece of his hair back. Noctis’ fingers hover for a moment before he fixes where the same strand lays and shrugs a little at Prompto’s head tilt.
“C’mon man, Iggy’s going to have an aneurysm if we don’t turn up soon. Apparently we have to know the names of a bunch of people who might be coming.”
“We?”
“Alright, I have to know...happy?”
Prompto rocks on his heels and pops a “Yep!” out, making Noctis scowl and grab for him.
The blonde doesn’t evade in time and Noctis yanks his arms up, fingers quickly diving for his armpits to tickle him.
Noctis lets up and smirks at him, taking in the bright red of Prompto’s cheeks. He brushes a thumb over Prompto’s bicep as he pulls his hands away, just tracing the curve of a letter in the text inked there.
It’s not about forcing happiness, it’s about not letting the sadness win
He watches Noctis’ eyes linger over the words and remembers the day he first showed it to the Prince.
Noctis saw the flash of black and paused, he had plenty of tattoos himself but he’d never noticed Prompto with any, not that he’d seen him with a tank top on before. He reached out and tugged on his friend’s wrist, repressing the grin that threatened at the surprised noise Prompto made.
He frowned quickly though as he read over the words the blonde had chosen to mark himself with. They felt too sad for the sunlight that Prompto brought him. He lightly touched the tips of his fingers to them.
“Uh, Noct?”
“I-You know you can always tell me when you’re sad?” It’s so uncharacteristic and Noctis is cursing the low tone and blurted words almost before they’re out, but Prompto’s smile is warm and he nods seriously.
“Of course. You’re-uh- you’re kinda what helps keep the sadness at bay? Like...like a night light!”
Noctis groans and slaps Prompto’s knee, turning away from him, “Duuude, shut up. Where’s the arcade?”
Now Noct is gazing at him with something in his eyes that Prompto thinks he might understand, that might be in his own when he see’s the willow tree. He starts to lean in and Noctis’ licks his lips, eyes half lidded.
The door slams open and Gladiolus barks at them, “Come on!”
Prompto never thought he’d resent a party, but watching Noctis’ expression blank, he does.
Regis is standing straight and trying very hard to not laugh as Ignis very, very subtly freaks out. The man has straightened the table napkins to many times they are actually starting to loose their stiffness and he keeps glancing toward the door, pushing up his glasses, and reaching for them again.
“Relax Ignis. I’m sure they’ll arrive in plenty of time, who knows what they are talking about. I’m sure that Prompto is quite nervous and if you gave Noctis the outfit I requested for him, possibly something else as well.”
That only earns him a sharp sigh from the stressed advisor.
“Majesty, with respect, Noctis appearing disheveled and late to his own birthday, informal though it may be, does not sound like something you should be so hopeful for.”
Regis shrugs and winks, “I don’t know Ignis, with you around to keep them from doing anything to terrible and Prompto to keep him busy, Noctis has caused very little gossip. It might be nice, you know, to have a sordid going on once in a while, especially one that causes such little concern for us. I think I may just lose it if I hear one more radio broadcast about how much my son loves animals, or if I get asked if he feels suffocated by expectations. A little talk might be good.”
He let’s himself ramble because it’s amusing to watch the vein start to throb in Ignis’ temple at the thought. It’s also a good distraction for the brunette, the napkins certainly enjoy the respite.Ignis’ response is interrupted, however, by the reappearance of Gladiolus, a step ahead of the guest of honor...and Noctis.
Regis looks his son over critically but there is no sign of anything untoward and he feels a spike of disappointment, though his son certainly looks, gods help him for using the word, dishy.
He immediately adds “resistance” to Prompto’s skills.The blonde is question comes to a stop just inside of the door, surprise on his features for a moment and oh! Maybe something did happen because Regis spots a bit of fading blush on his cheeks. It flares up again though when he realizes the King is staring at him.
“There you are! I don’t know how the two of you manage to waste so much time, but we’ve to get started. Noctis I expect-”
Ignis’ voice grows quieter as he pulls Noctis to the table where he has lain out photographs of anyone important enough for Noctis to recognize.
Gladio stands halfway between Prompto and Regis, eyebrow raised at the blonde who is shifting uncomfortably.Regis lifts a hand and smiles gently in greeting, “Prompto Argentum?”
Immediately the boy, with his wide lined blue eyes and carefully messy hair, tries to bow and step forward at the same time, tripping a little.
“Your Majesty! Sorry, I didn’t realize you would be here already, I uh...I’m Noct-Prince Noctis’ friend.”
Regis suppresses the urge to laugh, not mockingly, and questions kindly, “Noctis tells me you call him Noct, and tend to forgive him his status. I would ask you to extend the courtesy of that to me, at least when no one who might care is around. I’m Regis, Noct’s dad.”
Prompto straightens up and though his cheeks are still a bit red the formality falls off him so quickly Regis feels the need to blink.
“Uh, sure thing! Thanks for letting me come to his party, he’s been complaining about how I never make it.”
“Hey! That’s not-”
Noctis begins, turning toward their conversation, only for Ignis to pull him back. He glares at Prompto, who sticks out his tongue and then immediately pulls it back when he remembers Regis.
“Uh, whoops, sorry.”
Regis laughs then, a loud happy sound and finds Prompto chuckling with him even as Gladio grins.
“It’s cool, the King’s heard all about your tongue piercing.”
Gladio shoots Regis a quick grin and Regis adds another ally to his imaginary tally.Prompto looks confused, but Gladiolus takes no prisoners, “After all, Noctis could hardly talk about anything else the week you got it. I finally had to ask him how he thought it would feel in his mouth to get him to shut up.”
The red that spreads all the way down Prompto’s chest and arms is quite becoming, if Regis might say so, and he really hopes Noctis is looking. He must be because a choking sound followed by Ignis’ sigh comes from behind him.
“I always thought about getting piercings, but I’m afraid I don’t much care for holes in my skin…I did have an ear done when I was a teenager. My father hated it.”
Regis’ smile is fond and little distant at the memory, but it does the trick as Prompto bounces,
“Yeah? I think you’d look really cool with an eyebrow done or something!”
The King hums thoughtfully, “I might very well, but I’m afraid I’m an old man now and old men have to look stodgy.”
It earns him a bright laugh from Noctis’ friend, who still seems on edge, though a bit less.
“Tell me Prompto, you’re a photographer?”
Gladiolus groans and Regis finds out why as he is pulled into one of the most indepth (and enjoyable) talks he’s ever had about the perfect time of day to photograph everything from frogs to Noctis’ exact eye color.
The party is in full swing, various nobles around Noctis’ age and a smattering of older ones who happened to have the time are gathered around tables. There are drinks all around and the laughter of mildly intoxicated enjoyment.
Prompto still feels out of place, despite the casual nature of the event, there’s a distinct way that everyone he see’s holds themselves and their crisp accents, so like Ignis’ and Regis’ make him aware of the fact that Noctis doesn’t actually sound like a royal.
His best friend is leaning against a wall, looking politely bored of the woman talking at him’s story. His shirt is unbuttoned a little further than is strictly speaking decent and Prompto wonders if she’s spotted the small blue heart with a cup noodle in it that marks just under Noctis’ collar.
It’s definitely visible, Prompto can tell by the fond way that Gladio keeps glancing at Noctis’ chest. The big man was pretty drunk on his own birthday when Noct showed him the small tattoo and Prompto doubts he’ll ever see Gladio cry like that again.
Clinging to Noctis’ arm and telling him “Cup Noodles are just so choice, Noct, they’re so choice.
”He shakes the memory and weaves through the elegant silver and black decorations to make it to Noctis’ side. He’s maybe had a bit more to drink than he meant to, or maybe it’s just because the mimosa’s here are made with the best champagne money can buy (even if he knows Noctis’ prefers the cheap stuff, and even then, he’d take a screwdriver first).
The woman, fair featured with long dark hair and a wide smile, nods to him. He’s relieved that she seems to have gathered that his presence means Noctis’ limited attention to her will dissipate, as she excuses herself politely, but with a kind smile.
“The Lady Lys. She’s actually pretty alright, you could probably chat her up abou your pictures.”
Prompto’s brow furrows, “Why would I want to ‘chat up’ someone so far out of my financial bracket?”
Noctis’ somewhat tense shoulders loosen at that and he slings an arm around Prompto’s shoulders, accepting the drink Prompto hands him.
“Not looking for, what the hell is it- social mobility?”
Prompto snorts and shakes his head, “I’m already besties with a Prince, my social ladder might as well back it’s bags.”
There’s a moment then, just the two of them laughing hysterically while Noctis holds his drink up so it doesn’t spill and Prompto wipes under his eyes to keep his makeup from streaking.
Across the room Regis’ gaze lands on them and he looks to Gladiolus and then to Ignis with a quick nod.Ignis quietly shuffles guests away from the doors leading out of the large room and onto a balcony that overlooks the city.
It’s Regis’ favorite view of Insomnia and there are carefully tended moon blossoms that grow around the wrought iron railing.
Gladiolus very pointed coughs, drawing Noctis’ gaze and tilts his head toward the door, “Alright ya lightweights, go get some air.”
Prompto pouts but Noctis just rolls his eyes and hands his drink over, even though he feels fine, just a little buzzed. Prompto’s cheeks are flushed and it’s getting a bit warm anyways, some air sounds good.They make their way out onto the balcony without difficulty, the curtains falling shut over the glass doors behind them, courtesy of Ignis.
Prompto’s mouth falls open, there are elegant white flowers dotted along a dark green vine with wide leaves clinging to the railing, climbing slightly the building behind them. The lights of Insomnia and the faint glitter of the wall are dazzling from this height, but the smooth black flooring is reassuring beneath their feet.
“Noct! I have got to get a picture from here!”
Noctis laughs and gestures lazily, Prompto’s spare camera appearing in a flickering of blue magic and Prompto’s face lights up. It’s something he forgets a lot, that Noctis’ added a camera to his personal arsenal. He takes it gingerly and snaps a few shots, the light breeze cooling his cheeks. He frowns, something is missing…
“Selfie!”
He tugs Noctis so the city is in the background and takes a few more pictures of the two of them, Noctis’ shoulder pressed to his. He blows the camera a kiss and Noctis laughs, causing him to turn.
The shutter clicks, capturing Prompto’s smiling face in profile, looking up at Noctis who’s grinning softly and looking down at him, arm lifted, the skull tattoo just visible in the shot.
He takes the camera, reaching across Prompto’s body and putting them much closer together. It vanishes into blue light again, the color of which plays over Noctis’ face as Prompto watches, dazed.Noct turns to say they should go back in but doesn’t speak at all as a shaky hand reaches up to brush a stray bit of hair out of his eyes.
They are frozen, the same tension from earlier filling the short distance between them. Noctis swallows, the collar of his shirt shifting as he does. Prompto’s breath seems to be caught in his lungs and he lets his open palm rest against the Prince’s cheek.
The city lights reflect in their eyes as they take one another in and Noctis leans in at the same time Prompto does, their lips meeting just barely.They stop, not quite kissing, just sharing a breath. Niether pulls away, and that’s enough.Noctis’ arms are warm as they curl around Prompto’s waist and Prompto wraps an arm over Noctis’ shoulders, setting the other against his collar as they press in close.
Prompto tilts his chin and they are kissing properly, lips warms as they drag together, Prompto’s tongue glides over the seam of Noctis’ lip, silver bar brushing against the lower and making Noctis shiver.The Prince tilts his head and opens his mouth, prompting the blonde to do the same. The smell of flowers hangs in the air of a warm night in August and Prompto finds he much prefers the taste of a mimosa drunk from Noctis’ lips.
They kiss slowly, tasting each other, Noctis tugs Prompto’s bottom lip into his mouth and is rewarded by the sweep of Prompto’s tongue over his own, a careful flick against the roof of his mouth. The bar in Prompto’s tongue delights Noctis and he plays with it loosely as they kiss.
Eventually they must come up for air and Prompto smiles, cherry red.
“Happy Birthday Noct.”
Through the crack in the curtains Regis can see them and he makes a small noise of glee, holding a hand out behind him. Gladiolus warm fist bumps against his and he can practically hear the big man’s grin. Ignis’ sigh is fondly exasperated but he too fist-bumps the King.
“You might just get your tabloids yet, Majesty.”
Regis turns, letting the young men have their privacy, “One can only hope, Mr. Scientia, one can only hope.”
