noctis lucis caelum ✨ (somnifer) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2017-10-13 06:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, noctis lucis caelum, prompto argentum |
WHO: Sad anime boys Noctis Lucis Caelum and Prompto Argentum.
WHAT: After quarantine, Noctis has a few things to tell his best friend/space boyfriend. He's not eloquent.
WHEN: Tuesday, October 10.
WHERE: A park.
WARNINGS: Internalized ableism, PTSD, mentions of death, and mild language. They've ... been through a lot.
STATUS: Complete.
Noctis' hands were shaking when he finally pressed the phone to his ear. He'd decided during his stay in quarantine that he needed to call Prompto first before meeting up with him again. So much time had passed between them that he had to make absolutely sure his best friend (boyfriend, once) knew exactly what he was getting into. But despite how much time and energy he spent prepping for this very difficult conversation, it ... didn't come out the way he'd imagined. At all.
When ringing stopped, Noctis didn't wait for a greeting. "Prompto —" He sucked in a sharp, steadying breath. "Uh. Hey. Could you — I need you to listen to me for a sec. There's ... you need to know some things before I see you." He felt dizzy his heart was beating so fast, so he tightened his hand on his cane and forced himself to focus. "It's ... been a while. For me. I'm different, and I'll understand if you don't — if you can't —" Fuck this was hard. Noctis realized there were tears in his eyes. He blinked hard. "Sorry. What I'm trying to say is: I love you. I really, really love you, but it's okay if you decide you don't love me back anymore. I swear it is. I just — things have been crazy, and now I have a cane, and it's like, who's into old dudes, right? I'm my dad without the beard. I probably couldn't even grow one, I don't know." Noctis was rambling. He couldn't stop. "Anyway. Uh. The crystal thing. I was in it for ... a while. And I'm a little messed up now. I mean, I try to hide it, and it kind of works sometimes, but I'm ... people are ... fuck."
He paused. It wasn't a long stretch of silence by any means, but it felt like ages because he didn't know how Prompto was taking all of this. And then, in a much smaller voice, because this seemed like the most important thing: "Prom, I really want to hug you right now. Is that okay?"
Prompto had always known it was too good to be true - those blissful weeks where he’d fall asleep with Noctis curled up into his side their lips red and kiss swollen, every I love you and every little touch that had passed between them. So it had only seemed fitting that he woke up one morning back in the never ending darkness. In a crappy mattress on the floor of a store room in the garage and like nothing had ever happened. Honestly it had been enough to make him feel like he’d gone crazy. And it was only the fact he’d found the picture of him and Noct at Disneyland that he had printed out and the dried sylleblossom that Noct had given him that made him realize it had all actually happened.
Of course the fact that he knew now what it was like to be with Noctis only made the ache of missing him even worse. And it had been pretty bad to begin with.
He’d fallen back into his old life, kept himself from mentioning his time on Knowhere to anyone because gods that was sure to be met with a whole lot of you’ve lost your mind, Prompto. He went back to hunting, back to helping Cid in the garage, back to joking around with Talcott and teaching the kid how to fire a gun. Back to walking around with a giant hole in himself where Noct used to be. But he’d cut ties with the few people he’d been hooking up with in the years prior because it just didn’t feel right. Not after everything that had happened in Knowhere - even if maybe Noctis would come back to all of them and have no idea about their detour to the planet.
Prompto had expected to wait. Expected to put in the time and then one day Noct would come back and everything would be okay. He hadn’t expected being tossed to Earth and waking up in fucking Texas. In Texas and cut off from the armiger which was - hard. To have to miss Noct and then not even be able to feel that connection.
But like Knowhere it seemed they were destined to follow each other anyways. Which was a huge relief, that had then turned into a giant ball of uncertainty and anxiousness that followed him from the end of his quarantine to the shitty ass motel he managed to get a room at with the promise of paying within a day or two. How he was planning that part, he still wasn’t sure.
Of course entertaining ideas on that one were thrown out the window when his phone rang and that voice was on the other end.
Prompto waited with an uncharacteristic patience - only for you, Noct - as Noctis talked. Though there was a sharp intake of breath as I love you, I really really love you came across the line and he had to actually bite his own lip to keep from stopping Noct right then and there. He’s quiet even as Noctis stops talking, a brief pause to put the information overload into a logical order before he started to reply. “Noct - I -” he paused again, an audible breath before he started again.
“Okay first - your dad was kind of hot, so…” okay maybe inappropriate. Probably definitely inappropriate. Also true. “Um, wait - that was bad - I’m starting over -” Fuck he was terrible at this. But it was Noctis. So he took a steadying breath and tried to remember what Sherlock had told him - just talk about it, don’t waste more time. They’d lost enough already. He let out a slow breath and take two. “Noctis - I don’t care if you have a cane or if you’re like some old dude or if you’ve been in a crystal for… however long a while is… you’re my best friend and I love you too. Always have, always will, remember? And you’re an idiot if you think that’s changing and I really fucking missed you. So much. And I - I really want to hug you too so yeah of course it’s okay…” he pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, hoping his voice hadn’t cracked as much as he thought it did about halfway through that.
Although Noctis had physically aged when trapped in that godsforsaken crystal, he hadn’t actually grown up. Being cut off from all human contact for ten years had essentially stopped his already delayed socialization skills, and what’s more, he could barely stand the idea of someone touching him. It broke his heart to want Prompto’s hands on him so desperately — to recapture even an ounce of what they’d had in Knowhere — but he knew it would take so much more time just to get to that point again. He felt so helpless. Needing assistance walking and functioning normally. How could Prompto love him if he was so broken?
At the very least, the comment about his father actually made Noctis laugh. The sound was bizarre even to his own ears, too high and strained, but it was still something. "Dude. Do you want to bone my dad?" He wasn’t being serious. And the joking thing he was still a little rusty on. But it had been such a Prompto thing to say that his heart ached with how much he wanted to kiss him right now.
Noctis blew out a breath and tried to focus. He still loves me he thought, but the joy vanished when Noctis realized he’d have to face Prompto like this again for a second time. Before, it had been much easier because Ignis was there to mitigate some of the damage. He’s recovering extraordinarily quickly, their friend had assured everyone, but he left out all the messy and humiliating details — everything that came with Noctis’ injury. He’d felt like a kid again, relegated to a wheelchair and dependent upon those closest to him. Ignis was allowed to see him at his weakest because they’d known each other for so long, and Gladio could too for the same reason. But Prompto ... Prompto was different. Noctis had to be the strong one, the friend Prompto could always count on. What good was he if he couldn’t manage that?
"Where are you?" He asked, voice thick with a thousand different emotions. As terrified and desperate as he was to see Prompto again, Noctis was prepared to downplay his injury in the extreme. It had certainly seemed to work at home. He could do it again here.
Prompto laughed at Noct’s joke attempt and while it was more than clear something was off, at the very least Noct had tried. Which Prompto was sure was a good sign.
He's nervous, he realized as he felt a soft ache in his knuckles from where he gripped the phone tight. Too tight. Something had clearly happened between the last time he'd seen Noctis and know and Prompto hated the unknown of it. How bad was it that Noctis assumed it was grounds for Prompto leaving him.
Prompto glanced around the run down motel room at Noct’s question. The threadbare carpet, the mattress that sagged in the middle, the shower that so far hadn't gone past lukewarm. If the injuries Noct had were bad enough to even warrant him saying anything then Prompto knew it would be bad. Noct didn't own up to that shit. Not unless he had to. And suddenly Prompto felt the gut wrenching panic of I can't bring him back here paired with the frustration of not knowing where else they could go.
“I - I'm just at some motel, but I can come to you,” he said to Noct, his own voice thick as well. “I just want to see you,” he admitted quietly.
Noctis knew, logically, that Prompto wouldn’t think less of him for his injury. He’d never said anything to indicate that in the past, and his best friend had certainly been around long enough to catch glimpses of his struggles. But for all Noctis whined and complained about trivial things (mostly needing food and sleep), he never — ever — breathed a word about his chronic pain to anyone. This was partly because he’d watched as his own father lived with an illness that literally stole his youth away, and King Regis never complained. Noctis had only caught glimpses of it when his father thought he wasn’t looking — when pain transformed Regis’ face until he was unrecognizable. Once, Noctis thought it meant his father didn’t trust him enough to be honest. He quickly realized no one knew — or at least, no one was allowed to know.
That unspoken lesson took root inside a young Noctis and remained there since. He could complain about things that didn’t matter because they weren’t burdens. Anything that placed more weight onto his friends was unfair to them after everything he’d asked them to do already. And even though he’d allowed Gladio and Ignis to see him at his lowest, he didn’t dare talk about the pain lacing through every part of him. Noctis dealt with it as he’d always dealt with it and pushed through. He could walk now, couldn’t he? That was enough.
That’s why it stung when Prompto tried to accommodate him. "I’m fine," came out harder than he’d meant it to, and Noctis instantly felt a stab of guilt. He tried to push down the anger, a frustration in himself and his own limitations more than anything. "You don’t have to do that. We can both meet somewhere, if you want. Does this place have parks?"
Prompto had given a lot of thought as to what it would be like to be reunited with Noctis again during the past year. And he had, maybe naively, let himself imagine that it would be easy. That they could fall back into what they'd had before. Even if not the relationship, at least the friendship that had come so easily before everything.
So the fact that everything felt awkward and off - even after their respective confessions of feelings - preyed on Prompto’s naturally anxious nature.
Especially at Noctis’ reply. His worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Uh - Yeah I think there was one in the center of town. Or at least what passes for a park in the desert,” he offered. “Wanna meet there?”
Noctis knew he was ruining this. Just the thought of it made his heart sink. It was so weird to think back on their time in Knowhere — when all he'd wanted was to be happy and normal for a little while — and everything that came after. How far from normal he was now, and how little it had to do with being king. But as much as his instincts were telling him to push Prompto away, to spare him any more pain, a larger part of Noctis held firm. Prompto deserved to know what he was now, and more than that, he deserved the right to choose for himself what he wanted. If that meant they couldn't be together ... it would hurt, it would hurt worse than anything had before, but Noctis could face it knowing Prompto had the agency.
You live, King of Kings, Gentiana had said, calmly gazing out at the early morning horizon of an Eos long past. But you paid a price all the same. Noctis didn't ask what she'd meant then. He didn't have to.
"Yeah," Noctis answered, feeling tired now. "Yeah, let's do that." And yet — he didn't hang up the phone. Prompto could, if he wanted to, but something stopped Noctis from doing it first. He just switched apps to check Google maps and headed in the direction it told him to. Thankfully, Tumbleweed was small. Otherwise he'd be in trouble. Not so much because of the cane, although that certainly slowed him down, but the fact that he was still hopeless trying to find his way around anywhere.
Maybe it's stupid, but Prompto doesn't hang up either when it becomes clear Noct isn't going to. But he also doesn't talk either. Though there's a bit of sound as he gets ready to leave. He slathered on some of the sunscreen and put on the shades they'd given him in medical when it had become apparent just how much even the indirect sunlight from the windows had been bothering him.
It was only a handful of minutes from where he was to the center of town. Not nearly enough time to clear the jumbled mess of thoughts his head was. He figured he'd beat Noct there and he was right. Prompto headed over to a tree in the middle of the small park and leaned against the trunk, the small amount of shade nicer than the bright Texas sun.
And it's only when he spots Noctis as the other approached did he end the call and tuck his phone into a pocket. He watched carefully as Noctis walked over, the cane an obvious change. But also the shift in his gait and posture, the changes in his friend’s face and demeanour. Some subtle. Some not so much.
But if Noct was expecting even an ounce of pity on Prompto’s face there was none to be found. A hell of a lot of concern, but no pity. “Hey,” he said softly with a hint of a smile even as he kicked himself for not having a better opener than hey.
Noctis took his time getting to the park and told himself it was because he physically needed it, when in reality, he needed to emotionally prepare for this as well. Thankfully, he still had access to the armiger, which meant the clothes he'd arrived in (far more elaborate than Prompto would've remembered) were quickly changed with something understated and nondescript. The braces on his left shoulder and left knee were new, however. As was the cane, which was, perhaps predictably, the same as his father's.
"Hi," Noctis returned, and a smile was already tugging at the corner of his mouth. Seeing Prompto's reaction for himself was ... really, really nice. It loosened some of the tension in his shoulders, although it didn't quite chase away all the shadows in his expression. Some, though. Enough, hopefully.
"You don't really look older," he said, gaze dragging all over every inch of Prompto, trying to spot the things that were different. And maybe he was just really fucking glad to see him. That, too. "Oh, fuck. Didn't we have a code word or something?" Noctis made a face he usually reserved for the smell of coffee. "... Papyrus? Paprika? Shit."
Prompto was pretty sure he'd look about sixteen until the day he died. Though the sunglasses did hide where he did look older. Lines etched around his eyes that no one in their twenties should really have, the dark purple bruising of a constant lack of sleep. Prompto took his own time looking over the other too. The things that had changed. The things that hadn't. And while Noctis’ features remained close to what Prompto had remembered he did look older.
He couldn't help the smile at the face Noct made, a small chuckle before he answered. ”Papejay,” he provided. “I'll let it go though, this time,” he joked lightly.
He closed the few steps between them, hand moving to rub against the back of his neck. He pushed the sunglasses back up into his hair before he dropped his arm. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted but in the shade it wasn't as bad. “Fuck I really missed you,” he said and reached a hand across slowly to run along Noct’s right arm.
Noctis wasn’t smiling when Prompto moved the sunglasses. A frown furrowed his brow as he carefully noted the dark shadows and deep lines etched around the eyes he knew so well. It broke his heart to see what Prompto had endured so clearly written on his face, a sacrifice his best friend never should have had to make. "I’m sorry," he said, voice rough. "You’ve had to wait a really long time. It shouldn’t be like that. I wish I could —" Make it better was such a childish thing to say, so he let the words die before they’d taken shape. Noctis had made it better, but some things couldn’t be erased. That’s not how it worked.
He glanced away for a moment, looking but not really seeing the area around them. That was probably why the touch came as such a shock, or at least, that’s what he told himself. Noctis drew in a sharp breath and forced his arm to remain very, very still, his left hand tightly clutching the cane. “Missed you too,” he managed, and his eyes were on Prompto again, darker than before. There was a beat before Noctis reached up to touch his hand, tentative, almost awkward, as if he’d forgotten how a simple touch was even executed. But that didn’t seem to matter. Just feeling Prompto’s warmth was enough. He exhaled, shakily, and threaded their fingers together.
Even though his best friend was still at his side back home, Noctis hadn’t quite worked up the courage to confess again. Knowhere didn’t exist in the new world he’d helped create. They’d never had this together. And when he looked at Prompto, he couldn’t find what he’d seen that one time — the longing that he felt. It made him hesitate. It made him doubt. How could he be good for anyone now, anyway? So Noctis never spoke of it, and now they were here, doing this, and he felt like he might fall apart if it stopped again. Like he’d been hanging by a very thin thread this whole time and hadn’t even known it.
Prompto shook his head at Noctis’ apology. Because, after all, it wasn't Noct’s fault. Not in the least. Prompto’s pretty sure if given the choice, getting sucked into some mystical crystal for the foreseeable future would not have been Noctis’ first choice. Prompto had been angry - at the gods and fate, the very universe itself. But never at Noctis.
He almost pulled back at the reaction Noct gave, an immediate worry that he'd moved too quick. But he forced himself to remain still for a moment, wait for the reaction past the initial and when Noct’s fingers laced through his, Prompto found himself exhaling the breath he'd barely registered that he'd been holding in. He gave Noctis’ hand a soft squeeze. Maybe it was that naivety at work again but Prompto couldn't help but think that it would be okay now. They were together again and it would be better now.
“Noct -" he started, and he glanced from their hands back up to Noctis’ face. “What happened to you?”
Noctis could’ve talked about the crystal. Or the battle that ripped through their home city. Or even his coronation, which seemed a much bigger deal now that this Prompto hadn’t been there. But that would mean talking about himself, which he was complete garbage at — now more than ever, as the mere thought of having to voice the tangled thoughts and feelings inside him made Noctis feel panicked. So he didn’t. He went with neutral territory, something that also involved Prompto.
"Do you remember when we were in Altissia, and I told you I saw Gentiana in that hotel lobby?" It came out a little stilted. Noctis watched his best friend carefully for his reaction. "She said Umbra had powers. Something about the future being uncertain, but not the past? I didn’t think about it then because so much was going on, but when we got to Knowhere — when you told me what happened to everyone — I ... started thinking. And asking around." He glanced down at their hands again, and the sight made Noctis relax a little more. As if it was grounding to know they could possibly bridge this huge, dizzying chasm that had opened up between them and kept the two separated for so long. That maybe they actually had a chance at happiness without it being so fleeting and tragic.
He huffed. "I got back and called him. Umbra, I mean. We time traveled — and I still have no idea how — and fixed some stuff. Not everything," Noctis amended, leaning a little more heavily onto his cane. "But Insomnia was evacuated before the peace treaty and the daemons are gone. That’s — that’s something. I’m talking to some other people here who know more about time travel. Maybe I can go back again. Do more." It didn’t occur to Noctis that he’d never sounded more like his father than in this moment.
Prompto nodded at the mention of Gentiana. He did remember that, and the odd time they'd find her in the corner of a photo at the end of a long day. It had always seemed beyond weird to Prompto and he'd always assumed the explanation would have been even more confusing. Which was not proved wrong by Noctis’ next words.
Prompto rubbed his thumb idly against Noctis’ skin as the other talked. Like Noctis there was a grounding in the touch for him too. In Noct’s presence in general. Even if things were crazy they were still together, and they'd figure it out together.
There's a soft smile as Noct kept talking. For all they could joke about Noct’s less than princely behaviours, Prompto had at the same time always known Noctis would rise to the occasion and then some. And he's instantly reminded of that conversation after being rescued. That same absolute resolve to not only lead but to make it better. He gave Noctis’ hand another little squeeze. “Look at you,” he mused, the pride evident in his tone as be realize Noctis didn't just sound like a prince, he sounded like a king. His king. His fealty sworn not by birth but experience.
He still had a million questions of course - some that could wait and some that he was too curious about to do just that. “And the Empire?”
Noctis’ eyes narrowed. "You came with me, you dork," he shot back, more embarrassed than annoyed because the comment made him blush. What was he, fifteen? He’d be fifty and still reacting like this. And yet, for the first time since he’d arrived in Tumbleweed, Noctis felt a tiny bit of hope that maybe they were approaching the easy camaraderie they’d shared before. The kind of constant good-natured sniping and thinly veiled flirting that made up all their interactions before, when things were uncomplicated. Simple. He missed that so much it ached worse than jagged scar along his side. This was deeper, more intrinsic to the fabric of his identity.
He swallowed, trying to shake his thoughts into some kind of order. Just the sensation of Prompto’s thumb was making his skin prickle pleasantly. He flexed his fingers a little, but didn’t take his hand back. "We stopped them from taking the city. It was sick, dude. You shot a gun out of Iedolas’ hand! You must’ve been, like, fifty paces away at least? Best thing I’ve ever seen. The look on his face was priceless." Noctis conveniently left out the part where the Emperor had been about to shoot him. It wasn’t relevant. He was equally proud of Prompto — for overcoming everything that he had, for working so hard to keep up with and, arguably, surpass his friends in skill, and for never losing heart. He’d been happy he managed to hold onto consciousness long enough to witness such a moment.
The touching, though. Nng.
"Uh. Aranea’s president now. Everyone in Niflheim decided they wanted to be a democracy. Cool, right?" Noctis thought that part might interest Prompto, given how much he’d seemed to like her. His best friend was good at judging people, so Noctis trusted her implicitly because of it.
He laughed and ducked his head, free hand running along the back of his neck. “Please tell me ‘it was sick’ was in the official report somewhere,” he said lightly. Defaulting to joking since the idea of himself being an integral part of all of this was kind of mind blowing.
It was - a lot of information. And Prompto was sure they'd only really scratched the surface.
“President Aranea, gods she's probably lording that one over all of us,” which was to say he couldn't imagine anyone else better for the job. Aranea was tough enough to not let any residual bullshit from the old guard linger but fair and surprisingly empathetic enough to be better for people than maybe even she realized.
“If you - we changed stuff… does that mean Lunafreya is still alive?” and barely a pause before he barrels through. “What about Ignis, is he still blind? Your Dad… and shit Noct what happened to you though?” Ah question overload.
Noctis smirked the minute Prompto laughed. It felt strange and even a little painful to use muscles he hadn't used in ... almost eleven years? There hadn't been much to really laugh at with all the planning, running, and fighting they did. Trust Prompto to bring it out in him again. You're so beautiful when you laugh, he thought, but the words got trapped in his throat, so Noctis impulsively brought his best friend's hand up to his mouth so he could press a kiss to his knuckles. It was stupid, and kind of silly, and even Noctis laughed a bit self-consciously, but whatever. He was really fucking happy. So sue him.
"Come on," he said instead of commenting on it, giving Prompto's hand a tug. He wouldn't ever admit to needing to sit, not in so many words, but he led them to the nearest picnic table anyway because it was either that or collapsing eventually. No thanks.
"Aranea's a hardass." Noctis stretched out his legs once they were sitting, his back to the table so he could lean against it. Despite the words, there was nothing but admiration in his voice. "We have her to thank for the new arms regulations. It'll take a while, but ... it'll be good, I think." Prompto's rush of questions made Noctis smile again, even if it was tinged with sadness. "Luna's alive, yeah. And Ravus. Ignis never went blind because we were never in Altissia. Dad ... we didn't get to in time." A huff of breath. Noctis didn't allow himself to wallow in grief. He'd almost fallen apart once, having sat by Regis' deathbed in a wheelchair like he was eight years old again and more alone than he'd felt in a long, long time. If he didn't break down then, he certainly wouldn't break down now.
The last question was easy enough to address. "I was stupid and got hurt. It's not a big deal — this'll heal." Probably. There was no guarantee. But Noctis shrugged, dismissing it entirely. "Anything else?"
Kind of silly but it caused a sharp little intake of breath regardless at the feel of Noctis’ lips against his knuckles. And he can't help but smile a bit goofy himself at the action, with a blush across his cheeks, more visible than it might have been due to the extra paleness of his skin. Cheesy, but entirely endearing, and gods did he love Noct.
Prompto was easy to tug back to the tables, keeping his hand laced through Noctis’ until they moved to sit. He knocked the sunglasses back over his eyes, now out of the shade the tree had given. And he took a moment to close his eyes behind the lenses and tilt his face up toward the warmth. He’d probably be red later but it was worth it.
He turned his head to Noct to listen, nodding a bit at the responses. At the mention of Regis though, Prompto’s face fell a little and he pressed his lips together. “I'm sorry, about your Dad. He was a good man,” and Prompto knew I'm sorry didn't change anything, but he meant it nonetheless. Noctis deserved the chance he'd been robbed of twice now - getting to know his dad as an adult.
“Let me guess,” he started, an easy smirk on his lips as he gently nudged Noctis beside him, “you ran into a situation - or rather warped into it thinking you had it despite at least Ignis and possibly Gladio yelling at you not to and you didn't have it,” another smirk. “Am I close?”
"It's okay," Noctis said, focusing instead on the way Prompto looked right now — like a wilted flower tilting greedily toward the sun. If he'd ever had any doubts about making the right choice to travel back in time ... that sort of solidified it for him. There had always been something about Prompto that immediately helped steel his resolve whenever it wavered. This was one of those times.
He blew out a breath. "Dad and Clarus died fighting to give us a chance. I think ... I dunno. That's what they would've wanted?" Noctis made a mental note to make an excuse to walk somewhere else in a minute or two. He didn't want Prompto getting sunburnt on his account, something he'd never had to worry about himself.
It was the next comment that actually started a real, loud laugh out of Noctis, one that sounded far less strained than before. "You jackass!" He yelled, still grinning. "I did have it. Or I would have, if Iedolas didn't keep, like, fifty guards around him. Who has that many? It's stupid." He nudged Prompto in return, the amusement melting into naked fondness written all over his face. "You saved my life. In case that wasn't obvious. Thanks."
He grinned at that laugh, happy to hear it. Happy that he of all people could pull it out of Noctis. That's what he's always wanted to do after all, all these years he’d known Noct - give him a space to just be himself. Away from all the trappings of proper royal behaviour.
“Uhhh… an Emperor who is trying to keep a hold on his Empire?” he pointed out and then laughed softly. Prompto was sure at the time this had been no laughing matter. But Nocis had clearly lived to tell the tale - if a bit worse for wear - and sometimes all you could do was laugh a bit over it.
“Technically I haven't done it yet,” he pointed out and glanced down as he reached for Noctis’ hand again. “But I'm glad you're okay.” With okay being a relative term. It would take time, Prompto knew that, but Noct was alive and that was all that mattered.
"Eh," Noctis made a dismissive noise in regards to an Emperor needing a such a large security detail. It was something he honestly hadn’t considered, mostly because his own father rarely used to summon more than two guards at a time for himself. That was why he had Clarus, and why Noctis needed to occasionally slow down and listen to Ignis when he explained these things. Or at least let Gladio do his job.
"You don’t give yourself enough credit, Prom," he continued instead, glancing over the man next to him carefully, taking in all the new details again. "I just —" And he paused, briefly, when Prompto’s hand slid over his. It’s okay. This is fine. I want him to touch me, Noctis reminded himself, and he forced his breathing to remain even, to let the swell of panic and confusion die down until he could slowly turn his hand over so that their palms pressed together. Then, he was ready to continue. "I just wish you could see you like I see you," Noctis finished quietly.
He stilled as Noctis paused and waited for Noct to settle into the touch before he slowly laced their fingers together. It made sense, he supposed, the hesitations. He still hadn’t asked how long a while was that Noct had been stuck in the crystal - mostly because he’s not sure if he himself is mentally prepared yet for that answer. But the isolation - it had clearly done a number on Noctis. And it made Prompto’s heart ache for his best friend. They had both known that before, of course. The idea of being isolated. But this was on a wholly different level. This wasn’t just being anti social as a child.
“Noct…” he exhaled softly at the words. It would never stop being surprising to him, that Noctis saw anything worth it in all the mess that he was. Even if he’d gotten better in the past few years there were still scars that ran long and deep, ones that might not ever go away. He’d gotten better though at waiting out the initial reaction, letting the anxieties and insecurities in his own mind have their say and then taking to heart the reaction that would come after that. The one based more in realizing he’s actually a hell of a lot more capable than he used to give himself credit for.
“Well, that’s what I have you for, right? To remind me,” he said softly with a hint of a smile before he shifted and turned in towards Noct. Prompto lifted his free hand, paused for a brief moment to give Noct an opportunity to let him know it was too much before he slid the hand behind Noct’s neck. “I love you.” He’d said it on the phone but there was something to be said for doing it in person. And he couldn’t help but think that Noctis worried still, that having seen the changes in him might have changed Prompto’s mind.
Seeing Prompto's hand raise went a long way in helping Noctis. It gave him the space and time to process the fact that he would be touched again, and that courtesy unwound some of the tension inside him. Noctis even offered a small nod after a moment to indicate he was fully consenting, and Gods, did that make him feel a fierce hope surge up in him that he hadn't allowed himself to contemplate before. Maybe I'm not broken, he thought, and that, combined with Prompto's assertion, made his eyes sting. "You don't ... have to say that now," Noctis said, somehow managing to get the words out. It was extremely difficult. "You have time to decide. Okay? I mean that. I'll wait forever for you."
He forced himself not to squeeze Prompto's hand too tightly, although it was a near thing. The thought of trapping his best and beloved friend into a life of endless responsibility, of being weighed down by both Noctis' position and his shortcomings -- it made him queasy. Prompto deserved to live a full and happy life free to do whatever the hell he wanted. He was amazing. The literal best person he'd ever met. He deserved everything, and dammit, Noctis was going to make sure he had it -- even if it meant he couldn't be included.
Prompto wanted to immediately reply, assure Noctis that it didn’t matter, that nothing had changed. But he knew this was hard for Noct, admitting all of this - he could see it written all over his friend’s face. And so he paused, weighed the words and allowed them the seriousness with which they were given. Tried to see them from Noctis’ point of view which was alarmingly close to his own along the lines of I’m not good enough for this. And that in itself had a soft, almost bittersweet smile passing across his lips as he realized they were both so scared of the same damn thing. He lifted his gaze from where it had fallen to their hands and met Noct’s eyes. “I wish you could see you like I see you,” he repeated Noct’s earlier words.
“I don’t need time to decide, Noct, but I appreciate that you want to offer it,” he continued. “I’ve had time to decide, I’ve had years to decide,” he added. And yeah, maybe they weren’t the same people they were when they had been kids but wasn’t that the point? Growing together.
“I’d wait forever for you too, whatever that waiting ends up being,” he assured Noct with a squeeze of their hands. “However slow you want or need to take this, I’m not going anywhere okay?” At least if he could help it. Clearly the universe had its own ideas half the time but Prompto himself was damn content to remain by Noct’s side when it was his choice.
Noctis didn't realize he was crying until a tear rolled down his cheek. It was an odd sensation. His emotions just ... coming out of him like he had no control over it anymore, and maybe that was a little terrifying, but the most terrifying thing was that he had no idea what to do with Prompto's unwavering love. He'd convinced himself that this very situation was an impossibility, that too much separated them now for them to ever hope of repairing what they'd had. And yet here they were, all because Prompto was the single most forgiving and affectionate person Noctis had ever known, and he didn't deserve him. No one fucking did.
But dammit, he was so tired of being unhappy.
"I'd like to kiss you," Noctis blurted, and he laughed a little bit at his own awkward behavior, hastily wiping a few stray tears away. "I don't — I can't explain how I —" He exhaled a shaky, nervous breath. "I want to try. If you'll let me." That was the best he could do right now, and even that tiny admission made his heart race almost painfully. It was the closest Noctis had ever gotten to explaining the tangled mess of the crystal business, though, and maybe that was progress in and of itself.
It might be a small thing to some in the grand scheme of things and in terms of displays of affection. But to Prompto it was everything. But then everything with Noctis usually was. And yeah, Prompto knew that it would be hard. That they would both be bringing their own issues into this that were daunting and that ran deep.
But they were together. Whatever happened Prompto knew they could get through it.
He smiled, warm and encouraging at Noct’s words. “I’d really like that,” he answered.
This time, Noctis was the one to close the distance between them. He didn't dare remove Prompto's sunglasses, and really, he didn't need to. It took him long enough to press a gentle, feather-light kiss against that waiting mouth, and Gods, was it almost too much. His heart was racing, a mixture of panic and pleasure that sent a crackle of electricity up his spine. Years of nothing — no touch at all — that feeling Prompto's lips against his was overwhelming in the extreme. Noctis broke away to press their foreheads together, forcing his breath to even out. "I love you more than anything," he murmured, total and complete conviction in his voice. "We'll get through this." He had to believe it was true. He would.