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026 » and now my bedsheets smell like you

[everything's fine after that. at least, that's what prompto tells himself. gladio and ignis don't ask too many questions about where they went and what they were doing (or who they were doing). prompto laughs everything off; he makes his usual jokes. he takes the same old pictures and makes a big deal out of playing king's knight. as far as he's concerned, he's acting perfectly normal.

there's just one thing — prompto doesn't look at noctis the way he used to, and when they go for rides in the car, prompto rests his head against the side of the regalia and doesn't say anything.

the truth is that ignis and gladio know. or at least, ignis knows. he pulls prompto aside one evening, asks if anything happened between him and noct. prompto laughs and tries to slide away. ignis doesn't let him.

eventually, all prompto says is don't tell gladio.

maybe that's the reason ignis insists on staying in lestallum one evening, and takes gladio with him to buy groceries, leaving prompto and noctis in the hotel room together. maybe he thinks they just need to talk it out. but as far as prompto's concerned, talking isn't going to make this work out. it's way too hopeless for that.

he says seated on the mattress, with his knees curled to his chest the same way noctis left him all those nights ago. he looks strangely small. he goes through his photos from the day, but he doesn't say anything. no hey noct, look at this shot or noct, you look so cool here!

prompto just stays quiet. quiet's one of the strangest things for prompto to be.]

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[ Maybe he has it easier he thinks. After all, no one really bats an eye when he retreats into himself. That's just who he is right? So if he's quieter, distant, sullen… well… But then he'll catch Ignis giving him this look and he thinks that maybe he's not fooling anyone. Not even close. Because even if Prompto tries and even if his own quietness can be excused away by his personality, the toll losing his father and his kingdom all in one fell swoop had taken, everything still feels wrong. A shift in the air between all of them, off balance and off kilter.

Noct's quiet in the car, chin in hand and watching but not really watching the scenery pass them by. He'll catch Prompto's head on the side of the Regalia and ache for conversations across the seats, for Prompto to turn around and excitedly point out a spot and ask to stop for a picture. He aches for what he's sure he entirely fucked up by his own selfish desires. Hates himself for being that asshole and flip flops between regretting everything and then remembering the feel of Prompto's hands on his body, Prompto's skin under his lips, the way Prompto tasted and felt and for a brief moment he can't regret it.

He gets sloppy, his mind a mess that pulls him into many directions at once. Goes to summon a weapon and summons the wrong damn thing. He nearly trips over himself when a giant broadsword comes instead of the more agile engine blade he prefers. Or worse. When he goes to warp attack and nothing comes out.

Ignis catches him as they make their way up to the hotel in Lestallum, touches his elbow and pulls him aside as the others continued ahead. Noctis doesn't even need to hear it. He just looks at the expression on Ignis' face and he feels like crumpling. But he can't. So he just nods and says I know. He has to fix it.

But as Ignis and Gladio all too casually leave the room Noctis knows that's an impossible task. He can't fix away the way he feels about Prompto, he can't fix away that he can't be with Prompto - at least not how Prompto deserves. He can't fix away that he was a selfish, stupid, asshole who let himself get carried away.

And he can't fix away the way Prompto sits on the bed, too quiet and too small for someone who is usually anything but.

Noctis moves to fill a glass at the sink, but his hands are shaking and he drops the cup in the sink, the noise echoing in the quiet of the room. He turns off the water and leaves the cup there. His back to Prompto with his fingers curling around the edge of the counter and every little muscle taut in his back. ]

Prompto - [ He says, quietly, barely audible even in the quiet of the room. ] Please just say something. [ Anything, yell at him, call him the asshole he knows he is, just something. ]

Edited 2017-01-21 16:43 (UTC)

[the truth is, prompto's been like this before. he's withdrawn into himself, the same way he was when he was a kid with pudgy limbs and smudged glasses and t-shirts that didn't fit right. even the way he's resolutely going through his photos is the same. he brings his camera up to his face, squinting through the viewfinder at the hotel-provided coffeemaker across the room. he takes a shot of it — but there's nothing particularly important about the coffeemaker.]

...The fighting was pretty rough today, huh? Bugs are so gross.

[ There's a huff of something that could maybe be a laugh if it didn't come out so chocked and heavy. He shifts his weight, but doesn't turn around quite yet. He shakes his head a little, reaches into the sink and picks up the glass to set it back on the counter. ]

The worst. I think I swallowed something - disgusting. [ And he's trying but the words come off strained and lacking the tone he usually has when they talk. He pauses and then moves away from the counter, sinks to the edge of the other bed. ] Here's hoping it's not like - laying eggs in me or something. [ Awful. He was awful at this. ]

...Yeah, that'd be gross.

[prompto doesn't sound right, either. too flat. normally, he's an up-and-down rollercoaster of pitches, but right now his voice is just quiet and low and still.]

Drink some water. [that was why noct filled a glass, right? he heard a thud, so maybe noct dropped it... but he can't bring himself to look.]

[ He's quiet again, his elbows on his knees - one hand in a tight fist with the other covering it. And it feels so weird, this awkwardness. This trepidation between them when usually it was so easy. There's a thought - cheesy he thinks but it's there - that this distance between them is like losing a part of himself. The part of him that makes everything else work. Yeah, cheesy.

He looks down at his hands, knuckles white. Swallows hard. ]

Can you - [ He pauses, shrugs a little. ] Can you just call me an asshole or something - I don't know, yell at me for being a terrible friend.

[so deflecting didn't work. then again, it never does, but that doesn't stop prompto from trying. he looks through his camera viewfinder again, but, finding nothing interesting through the lens, he lowers it to his lap and sighs.]

...You weren't a terrible friend.

[he says it, and he means it. noct didn't do anything wrong. noct hasn't done anything wrong. but still — noct's not in the position to pursue a romance with his best friend.]

You just — I don't know, dude. I don't know. I'm all over the place.

[ He should have just left well enough alone that morning. He should have just let it be some stupid, drunken, night that they had gotten carried away. He shouldn't have let it happen again, shouldn't have let it be something that happened in the sober light of day. Something real and based very much on emotions instead of being drunk and desperate.

His lips press together as he thinks about it. As he listens to Prompto's words and the way even now he's trying to absolve him of the guilt. But it's still there. So very much there. A heavy weight in his heart. An ache in his bones that had nothing to do with the fights they'd been in recently.

His hands uncurl and then curl back together and he lifts his gaze to Prompto. ]

What can I do? Tell me what to do to make it better.

[prompto remembers. the farther away the memories get, the more he remembers it — all of it. the drinks, the cute bartender. the flirting at the bar, so indistinguishable from their normal horsing around that prompto hadn't realized he was being seduced until it was too late, until they were up in the hotel room and noct was touching him, feeling him, every part of him, and he wanted it so badly, he wanted he wanted he wanted —

— what can i do to make it better, noctis asks. prompto almost smiles.]

...Nothing, really?

[he forces a laugh.]

I don't know, Noct. I'll get over it. It just... needs time, I guess.

[all reasonable enough. he sounds like he believes it. but after a moment he rests his head in his knees and he doesn't look up when he asks, in a small, tiny voice:]

...Can you... come over here, though?

[ Time. Right. Time when they're stuck on some extended road trip in which personal space became a thing of the past and they spent every waking moment together. Easier said than done probably.

There's a small voice in the back of his head that screams bad idea at Prompto’s request. After all, wasn't that kind of how this whole mess got messier in the first place. Noctis had sat down beside him, they'd hugged it out and then… he forces the thoughts from his mind.

But he gets up anyways. He's never been particularly good at saying no to anything Prompto requests. He moves across the space between the beds and sits down beside Prompto. ]

I'm sorry, Prompto. [ He repeats from the other morning. ] You're - you're my best friend - [ Everything ] I didn't want to hurt you.

...You didn't hurt me.

[he says that, but it's not quite true. after all, why would prompto be all curled up like he's afraid of being touched if he wasn't hurt?

he doesn't look up, even when noctis takes a seat beside him, but his fingers keep fiddling with the strap of his camera.]

I don't... expect us to do that again. I just... I just want to go back to the way things were.

[ Prompto is lying through his teeth and Noctis knows it. And it's the worst feeling in the world. Because they don't do that. They don't lie to each other. And the way Prompto curls into himself makes Noctis feel like the worst kind of person, let alone friend. There's an urge to reach out, to pull one of Prompto’s hands away from his camera and give it a reassuring squeeze. Or to rest his hand on Prompto’s back, anything.

But he doesn't. He knows he wouldn't be able to stomach the flinch, or worse. ]

You're lying. [ He says instead. His own voice small and quiet, sad in the knowledge that this is what they were doing now. Lying to each other.

But then, maybe they'd been doing that for years now really.

He nods a little at Prompto’s next words. It makes sense. Try to get back to where they were before. Try to shove all the selfish thoughts he has of wanting so far down that they'll never see the light of day again. ]

I - I want that too, Prompto. To go back. Be just friends again. [ And who was lying now. ]

...I'd be okay if —

[that's the point where he stops. because prompto knows he's lying now. he knows because his voice breaks into a sob before he even realizes there's a lump in his throat. he sounds gross. wet. he's all snotty; he has to sniff through his tears. why do people do that when they cry? he wonders. they get all snotty. undignified.]

I'd — be okay if — if I could spend my life just — as your friend. Like — always, you know? That's all I want.

[he's picturing it. because all this stuff with the empire — all of that's gonna work out somehow. and noctis is gonna marry luna. because princes marry princesses and they rule countries as kings and queens. and prompto will be there, as a friend, as their friend, to play with their dogs, right, and their kids, too, they'd have such beautiful kids —

— and no one would ever have to know that prompto was rotting inside.]

That's all I want...

[ The sniffles that come from Prompto, the tears he can see in his friend’s eyes breaks Noctis’ heart a little bit more. The unbearable knowing that he couldn't do anything to make this better. He hates himself right then. Hates his place in life and all that it entailed. Hates that they're stuck in this awful place of wanting each other but not being able to do much about it.

And really it would just be so much easier if he wanted Luna even a fraction of how much he wanted Prompto.

Noctis nods a little. And he reaches for Prompto's hand at that, slides his fingers between Prompto’s and the camera strap. A brief touch before he lets his hand fall. His gaze fixes at some spot across the room, glassy and unfocused. ]

Yeah… okay. [ His fingers clench into fists against the mattress. ] I want that too, Prompto. To be your friend, always. [ He thinks maybe he could just talk to Luna. Be honest. But he knows Prompto deserves more than that. He wants more than that for Prompto. ] And it'll be okay. We’ll be friends, and you're gonna find someone Prompto. Someone who isn't - [ He trails off and shrugs a little, swallowing hard, his mouth suddenly dry and his eyes burning. ] I just want you to be happy.

[prompto laughs, surprisingly bitter; the sound is punctuated by a hiccup.]

...Don't say stuff like that.

[you're gonna find someone. the words sting. that's not what he wants. someone else isn't what he wants. if someone else was really what he wanted, he would have been a lot more serious about pursuing cindy.]

Seriously... don't.

[ Noctis looks to Prompto, almost shocked by the sound of the laugh, the bitterness in it. He seems a bit lost, uncertain. He looks away again and falls back on the bed, his legs over the edge. He brings his arm up, lays it over his eyes and is quiet for a long moment. ]

Okay. [ He says softly. ] Sorry. I - I won't.

[it hurts. it hurts because noct looks cute like that, all splayed out on the bed. prompto wants to reach out and stroke his hair. say something stupid. but they're well past the point where he can do that now.

noctis's kindness hurts most of all. he keeps saying that he's sorry. and he is — prompto knows that he really is. kindness. sensitivity. it's why he keeps falling for noct, over and over again, no matter how many times he tells himself that it's hopeless.]

...You're a real nice guy, Noct.

[ And it's his turn to laugh at that. His arm still laying over his face, covering the fact that he's definitely not dry eyed right at that particular moment. He's not. He knows it. He's not a nice guy. A nice guy would have walked away from Prompto ages ago. A nice guy wouldn't have let it gotten this far.

A nice guy wouldn't want Prompto to stay, knowing it was killing him just to keep from losing him entirely. ]

Yeah… let’s not do that one either.

[ He lets out a slow breath. Presses his lips together. ]

This sucks.

[ Understatement of the decade. ]

[prompto blinks, and is only mildly surprised when more tears roll out; he wipes them mechanically on his wrist. it occurrs to him that he should move his camera away. it really doesn't need to get water damaged from his stupid crying.]

...But I really mean it. That's why I like... always liked...

[he can't say it. not that final you. and besides, which one is he supposed to go with now? like? liked? past tense, present. it's all a mess. he hiccups.]

...What the hell are we supposed to do, Noct?

[ His chest tightens as Prompto trails off before finishing the thought. And there's this awful feeling of knowing that liked one day really will mean liked. As in once did and no longer did. Noctis knew that Prompto would move on. Find someone else, someone available. And Noct? Well, Noct would just spend his life in some arranged marriage with a woman he did like but felt no attraction to and stay half in love with his best friend.

He rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes and sits back up. Feet curled over the edge of the bed, he rests his chin on his bent knees. He thinks about Prompto's question. About closing the space between them, sliding his hands behind Prompto’s neck and kissing him for all he's worth. Thinks about saying fuck it, I'm not married yet. Steal whatever time he could because it was going to hurt anyways, why not make it really hurt.

But he doesn't. Because as always what he wants to do and what he's supposed to do are two very different things. He shrugs and rubs a hand against his eyes again. ] I don't know. I really don't know, Prompto.

But uh - I'm open to suggestions. So - any bright ideas? [ He adds on with a small laugh that sounds much to hollow. ]

I...

[prompto gnaws on his lip. his eyelids feel swollen and red; they probably look that way, too. if ignis and gladio come back, they're gonna know what happened.]

I wanna — I want a hug. [it feels ridiculous to say that. like he's five and his parents will half-heartedly hug him and go back to work again.] I just want — I just want a hug.

[ He knows it's a bad idea. Terrible really. But that doesn't stop him. Not when Prompto looks like that. The emotional toll of everything so plain on his face. The way he looks so small and vulnerable and well, well there wouldn't be much - if anything - Noct would deny him right then.

So he closes the gap between them without hesitation and hugs Prompto. And it's anything but half hearted. Noctis’ face buried into the crook of Prompto’s shoulder, arms tight around his back. And he clings more than he hugs. Like maybe if he can just hold on tight enough it would magically make this all okay. ]

[as much as noctis clings to prompto, prompto clings right back — he buries his face into noct's shoulder, arms wrapped around his back. he turns his head just enough that his nose is buried in noct's hair, and he breathes deep of the scent — and the more he breathes, the more he relaxes.

for a moment, prompto actually believes that everything will be okay.]

...Thanks, Noct.

...love you.

[he shouldn't have said that. but he meant it.]

[ If it hadn't been so quiet he might have missed Prompto’s words. But he didn't, and there's a warmth that spreads through him at them. His arms tighten around Prompto, his face sort of nuzzling against his neck. And he doesn't want to let go. ]

I love you too, Prompto.

[ It's just as quiet, kind of muffled by Noctis’ face being pressed into Prompto’s neck. And he knows too that it's not what he should say. But he wants Prompto to know. That even if it was messy and so uncertain right now, and maybe it would get worse before it got better, that he was cared for. Loved. In so many ways. And that nothing would change that. ]

[he doesn't really know what to do now. it feels so good, so perfect, so warm and relaxing and comfortable in noct's arms. and noct said he loved him. noct said he loved him.

but they can't stay like this, can they? not said it himself. we can't. and yet, is there really any harm in staying in his best friend's arms? it would hurt more if they stayed apart.

prompto sighs happily, rubbing a residual sniffle from his nose before he squeezes noct around the waist and hums part of a silly tune.]

[ He laughs softly at the humming. He pulls away, barely. Just enough to keep his arms looped around Prompto, tugging him along when he shifts to lay back in the bed. He curls into Prompto, his arm around him and slotting their legs together. ]

Is this okay? [ He asks softly, not wanting ton make Prompto uncomfortable, but also not wanting to let go quite yet. ]

Yeah. This is fine.

[there's a part of prompto that wants to ask if it's okay for noct. like what if this is breaking a line somehow? but he's afraid to ask. he's afraid that if he does ask, he'll ruin the spell, and it'll all be over.

like last time.]

...You're so warm. It's... kinda nice.

[ It feels every bit the stolen moment it is and Noctis knows soon enough the others will return and they'll have to go back to - back to pretending and it hurts. But he tries not to think about it too much, instead choosing to focus on the moment they do have. His face is pressing into Prompto's side, breathing him in, and it's hard to not think about how right it feels.

His hand trails idle patterns down Prompto's side, and he laughs softly at his friend's words. ]

Only kinda? [ He teases as his hand presses flat and he kind of squeezes him a little in some kind of hug/cuddle hybrid. ]

Oh, fine, it's really nice. You big baby.

[he laughs, shaking blond hair out of his eyes; he presses his forehead against noct's. his best friend is just such a charming person. like a spoiled cat, but an adorable one, with a kind heart and infinite compassion and maybe the cat simile got lost somewhere in his train of thought but prompto thinks noctis is perfect.

that's when he decides that no matter what, he's not going to let go.]

...Hey, Noct?

[prompto swallows on his dry throat loud enough for it to be heard.]

I... It'll be okay. I know maybe that doesn't sound believable, but... it'll be okay. We just have to believe it'll work out. 'Cause I... I don't want to stop being your friend. I don't want to have to stop myself from... holding you like this, and stuff.

[ His eyes move up to hold Prompto's gaze when he presses their foreheads together. He idly wonders if Prompto can feel how hard his heart starts racing at those two little words; hey, Noct. At the way it absolutely hammers as Prompto keeps talking.

His hands come up between them, fingers dusting at Prompto's jawline before slipping behind his neck as Noctis goes over what he just said.

He thinks about the notebook, years of notes and drawings back and forth. How the first half was nothing but the stories of an isolated and lonely child, years of stories that revolved around nothing but what happened to have happened in the Citadel that month. And then the shift, the moment it all changed. The clear line drawn between before and after; I made a new friend.

We just have to believe it'll work out.

Prompto with his unfailing belief in everything being okay. Belief enough for the both of them and Noctis nods a little against Prompto's forehead. It would. It had to. He smiles softly, fingers curling into the strands of Prompto's hair. ]

Okay. It'll work out. We'll make it work out - and I - I don't want you to stop either, I don't want to have to stop. [ He pauses, lets out a slow breath and nuzzles his forehead against Prompto's. ] I don't want to stop, Prompto. [ He repeats, his voice low. ]

Edited 2017-01-24 22:22 (UTC)

[it's good. this is good. maybe it'll all end horribly, but for now, for now, this moment between them is good. and they can be friends again, no more awkward silences.

for one moment, prompto thinks of his home in insomnia and the letter from lunafreya that he kept in his drawer for years and years and years, and he really hopes that despite all of this, they can all still be friends.

noctis's breath is warm on prompto's lips. he smiles despite himself at noct's low, urgent tone, sliding his hands up noct's waist toward his chest.]

Well, what do you think I want, silly?

[ He smiles at the touch, the feel of Prompto's hands running up his torso. His thumbs slip forward a little from behind Prompto's neck, brushing against his lips as Noctis presses his own together for a moment. He glances down at his thumbs on Prompto's lips, and there's a little furrow of his brow as he thinks about what he's doing to say. ]

Prompto? I need you to - you have to promise to let me know if it's too much. If I cross a line, or if you need me to step back or you need to step back, okay? I know you said you don't want to have to stop - but if you need to. For any reason. I'll do whatever you need me to do.

[ He looks back up at that. It was clear his own judgement was not to be trusted, not when the only thing he wanted to do right then was kiss Prompto. But this... arrangement of sorts they'd just come to - well, Noctis doesn't want to take advantage of it. ]

[prompto

stares at noct for a long time

and wisely decides not to say that he was just going to sing "i want to ride my chocobo all day! ♫"]

...Yeah. I trust you, Noct.

[he leans forward and kisses noctis full on the lips, chastely pressing their lips together in the softest, most gentle manner he can muster.]

I'll... I'll tell you if I have to. I promise.

[ His hands move to cup Prompto’s face as Prompto kisses him. And it's soft, chaste, but it still sends little bits of electricity jolting through Noctis at the touch. His fingers trace across Prompto's cheekbones and along his jawline as Noctis smiles at him.

He goes to say something but groans instead as his phone buzzes in his pocket. Noctis reluctantly pulls away and takes it out. He reads the text quickly and then curls back into Prompto’s side as he drops the phone to the bed. ]

Ignis. They're back, he rented another room for him and Gladio. [ His hand slides down to Prompto's as he talks, entwining their fingers. ]

Another room...

[prompto squeezes back, relishing the rapid-fire pulse of his own heartbeat. it's silly, that just holding noct's hand gets him so excited, but he can't exactly help it when he's wanted noct for this long.]

Isn't that, like, hella sus?

[ He tugs on Prompto's hand and rolls onto his back, pulling Prompto over him. Ignis knew, Noctis was more than aware of that. Whether his intention in separating for the night was to simply give Noctis and Prompto more time to talk things through, or something else Noctis couldn't say. And he didn't much have it in him to let it matter either way right then.

He grins a little at Prompto, a shrug of his shoulders. ]

Do you really care right now if it is?

[oh. oh. suddenly, he's pulled on top of noctis, and all thoughts of how hella sus ignis is being are replaced in prompto's mind by thoughts of how incredibly beautiful noct is. really, noctis is beautiful — almost unbelievably so. lucis doesn't deserve to have such an impossibly handsome prince.

and prompto doesn't deserve to have said impossibly handsome prince in love with him, but here they are.]

...Yeah, can't say that I do. I'm just worried, you know? About what he's thinking...

[he sighs contentedly, running his hands over noct's musculature.]

'Cause Specs is always thinking about something.

[ He reaches a hand up, brushes his fingers along Prompto's cheekbone, along the freckles that Noctis absolutely adored and then settles it behind his neck. ]

Do you want me to call him and ask? [ He says lightly with a smirk, before his expression turns a little bit more serious. ] Of course he's thinking something, Prompto. But - I - [ He shrugs a little again. He should care, he knows that. But the feel of Prompto this close clouds his judgement, makes it hard to think about anything other than the prospect of a night to themselves. ] I don't want to care about it right now, but if you're worried I can call him, tell him they should just come stay here.

No! [that comes out too quick. he tries again, calmer this time.] No.

I... I want to be with you. I want... another night with you. I'm serious.

( Noctis is quiet for a moment as he holds Prompto's gaze - looking for any hesitations to his words. But finding none. And Noctis would have been fine. Fine to call Ignis. Fine to not but do nothing but just cuddle Prompto for all he was worth for the rest of the night. He would have been more than content with that.

But Prompto's words - the connotations behind them. It sparks a warmth in Noct's chest, one that fires through his blood, runs down his spine and across his body. His hand slides a little, thumb brushing against Prompto's lips. And he wants. Gods how he wants. How he's always wanted. )

I love you. ( He repeats from before, still keeping Prompto's gaze. His hand tugs at the back of Prompto's neck, tugging him down as he lifts up to meet him, pressing their lips together. )

[prompto smiles at those words, even as he closes his eyes and gently kisses back, nibbling gently at noct's soft bottom lip, sucking at whatever little parcels of flesh he can get between his own lips. hands. he should do something with his hands. he wraps them around noct's waist, drawing him ever closer.]

Yeah. I... I love you, too.

[between kisses:] I feel like... I've loved you... at least a little bit... my whole life.

Edited 2017-02-03 20:08 (UTC)

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026 » and now my bedsheets smell like you

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lol wow journal fail

hot prompto on prompto action

we both know he doesn't love himself enough for that... :(

ok that's true......... :(

now i'm just sad. poor prompto. at least noctis loves you?

AT LEAST

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