ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛᴏ (messofhangups) wrote in campfortitudeic, @ 2018-01-25 11:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, noctis lucis caelum, prompto argentum |
WHO: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
WHAT: Reunion
WHERE: Their townhouse
WHEN: Backdated; Tuesday Evening
RATINGS/WARNINGS: Language, mentions of traumas, disassociation and anxiety.
Two weeks was a hell of a lot smaller of a time frame than almost four years… but somehow the two weeks since he'd felt himself connected to the armiger had seemed longer than the years without Noctis that had come before it. Maybe because for the first time in almost four years Noctis was closer than he had ever been - even with half a country between them. Their notes, while maybe not seemingly anything that significant to someone else, were absolutely everything to Prompto. The first contact he'd had with Noctis since the Keep and each short and perfunctory message was like finally being given water after a decade in the desert. Prompto had been an anxious mess as he waited, and really it was a miracle Sherlock had even been able to talk him down from running out after Noct. Despite not really wanting to, Prompto had resigned himself to waiting. Which had sucked. That ever present sense of missing Noctis that he had carried since the Keep had spiked and become almost overwhelming with the knowing that he was out there… so close but still too far. When Noct finally - finally - did make it to the camp? Well… Prompto would probably be kicking himself for it for a while. An impulsive bone crushing hug that he had realized far too late into it was probably more contact than Noct would be comfy with and probably too much for friends and he'd stepped out of it with an awkward shoulder pat. An awkwardness that had started to feel even bigger as he and Noctis moved into Prompto's townhouse and away from the others, found themselves truly alone together for the first time in years. At least years for Prompto. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as they stood in the foyer. "Uhm, are you hungry? I could… make you something?" Prompto offered and in another nervous tick rubbed his forefinger against the bridge of his nose, over the little bump that still remained from where it had been broken while Ardyn's captive. "Nah. I'm alright." Noctis shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his new jacket, grateful for the warm change of clothes after the long two-week trek. He'd layered with what he could find, sure, but there was something about wool that made him feel safer. Swaddled, probably. With a coat of his own, Umbra padded past them with a click, click, click of his paws in order to scope the place out, and something tense and knotted inside Noctis began to unravel. So many times, he tried to articulate how he was feeling: disoriented, lost, scared, numb. But then Prompto was barreling into him the second he stepped foot inside the compound, and everything else just ... fell away. It wasn't important anymore because Prompto was here, alive and in his arms, and that was real. That grounded him. Noctis reached up a hand to push his slightly longer hair behind his ear and fought down the surge of panic over the unfamiliar texture. As long as he avoided mirrors for a while — a mistake he'd made and paid for, catching his reflection in the window of a shop not too long ago — he'd be fine. Not recognizing the world around him was one thing, but not recognizing himself was ... terrifying. There was no other word for it. The physical changes were minor, of course: a little more definition in his jaw, less than an inch longer hair, which was helped by the lack of product in it. But he still felt like he was twenty, and yet, it was clear he wasn't. How long have I been gone? became "How long have you been here?" because that was easier to handle: forced travel through time and space when it happened to more than just one person. That's when Umbra returned, bumping his side into Prompto's legs briefly in greeting before he went to Noctis, who slid his fingers into the dog's fur immediately. It helped. There was an echoing click, click behind Umbra's as the German shepherd Prompto had picked up many months back finally made his way down the stairs to see what the noise was. Prompto just shook his head as he knelt down to scratch behind Max's ears. "You are the worst guard dog ever," Prompto tried to chide but it was anything but. Prompto stood and shrugged out of his jacket, hung it up in the small closet by the door. He was… stalling. He knew it. That quick debate of what to say, how truthful to be. That internal battle of being honest to his best friend but also wanting to spare Noctis the worry. But he also knew what Noctis was really asking and it didn't seem fair to deny him that. "In here? Five months or so. Out there?" He shrugged. "About the same," and really he was still convinced it was only dumb luck he'd managed to survive that long out there. He raked a hand through his hair, it wasn't longer really, but had the kind of slightly haphazard ends that definitely indicated he was cutting it himself now. His gaze fell back to Noct and he took in the subtle changes in his friend's face - and while Prompto couldn't be a hundred percent certain he was still fairly confident that the time that had passed for him was similar to how long Noct had been in the crystal. "I ended up here just over two years after you disappeared," he added. "Noct…" he started and reached a hand out for a moment like he was about to curl it around Noctis' but then dropped it, his lips in a tight line. "I'm sorry," he said softly. After all it was one thing to know the passage of time, to have lived it and experienced it. What Noct was facing - or at least what Prompto assumed Noct was facing - to have had it pass without your knowledge was something else entirely. Noctis' gaze followed Prompto the moment his friend turned his back, offering a rare opportunity to take in all the changes. The details he wasn't sharing, like how difficult it must have been to get stranded out in the wilderness with nothing and no one. His eyes trailed across Prompto's shoulders, his arms, his legs, noting the definition that hadn't been as pronounced before, all the obvious signs of someone who'd been fighting for survival and succeeding. Even his hair looked really cool, uneven and shaggy. "That's awesome," Noctis blurted before he could think twice about it, and although he felt himself blush a little bit in embarrassment, he pushed on. Suddenly, it was really important that Prompto know just how incredible he was. How incredible he'd always been. "You know that's seriously badass, right? I could barely last a few days, and you're going all, like, Sole Survivor on me." His gaze was warm and filled with pride. It was the two years comment that made his blood run cold. Noctis tore his gaze away, finally, and stared without seeing as the two dogs sniffed and greeted each other. Over two years of his life were just ... gone. Like he'd been in a coma. A few times, Noctis thought he might say something -- an apology to Prompto, who had obviously been waiting for him. An explanation about what he'd found out, not including the end result, of course, which he refused to burden anyone with. But nothing came. All he could think of -- and this was absurd, he knew it was absurd -- was Gladio telling him to lose the jacket. Noctis was still wearing it, and it wasn't cold in here, but Gods, did he feel frozen down to his bones. "Don't be sorry," was what he managed. Then he shook his head as if to reaffirm that, forcing himself to look at Prompto again. Distantly, he knew just standing here and staring was probably a weird thing to do, but a tiny part of him still wasn't fully convinced he was awake. This could very well be an elaborate dream, especially because he had no memory of sleeping in the first place. Should he ask? Could he ask? Noctis shifted his weight off his injured leg and swallowed. "Uh ... don't freak out, but. Can you. This is real, right? You're ... there. And I'm here." It was knee jerk, the shake of his head at Noctis' amazement. It didn't feel like that to him, anything special. Just - one day after the other, keep pushing forward because what else was he supposed to do. Although there had been some moments, terrible and awful and pushed so far to the back of his mind that knew other answers to that question. He shrugged. "I had Max," he pointed out. So he hadn't been really alone. And finding the dog had helped immensely. It had always felt a little less like he was a crazy person, talking to a dog instead of himself. Given him something to take care of, something that needed him and that had made a huge difference. And maybe it was cheesy, but that small little glimmer of hope that had never truly left, that maybe someday he'd see Noctis again… well… that had done a lot too. He flushed a little under the praise and glanced down at his feet for a moment. "Besides, the real hero here is Gladio for putting up with us long enough to teach us survival skills," he said with a small laugh and looked back up at Noctis. Prompto followed the unseeing gaze to the dogs, and he was glad that neither dog seemed too put off by the either. That would have sucked. The worry over Noct though settled in quick. And he looked back at his friend at the words. He took a few cautious steps towards Noctis, wary of too much closeness maybe having the opposite effect. "It's real, Noct," he said gently. "You're here and I'm…" he trailed off and lifted his hand again to lay it on Noct's arm lightly. "And I'm right here." "The Sole Survivor had a dog, too," Noctis said, realizing that he probably sounded insane right now. Here they were, trapped in another world, and he was talking about Fallout 4. It helped, though, to have that frame of reference — to know he could use a video game to convey something deeper and Prompto would immediately understand what he really meant. Noctis had a difficult time expressing himself on a good day. You did something cool was one thing, but I think you're amazing and I admire you a lot was quite another. He hoped, despite the years that now stretched between them, Prompto still knew how to translate his stumbling attempts at affection. It hurt to think maybe he didn't, but how could he expect him to? It's real. I'm right here. Noctis released a shuddering breath when he felt his friend's hand on his arm. He stared at it for a long moment in silence, continuing to force air into his lungs. "Okay," he said, voice a little rougher than before. "That's ... cool. Good." And then Noctis was leaning in, forehead pressed against Prompto's shoulder. He hoped this was okay. They didn't touch often — not in seriousness, and certainly not initiated by Noctis unless he was accidentally falling asleep — but he found, all of a sudden, that he needed this. The familiar smell of his friend filling his senses, the steady, warm presence that meant he was definitely here and definitely alive. "Thanks," he said, quietly. It no longer felt quite like he might fall to pieces at any moment. That was good. He smiled a little at Noct's comment, the compliment underneath it. Even if he didn't necessarily feel as badass as it indicated. But then, maybe he never would. It was a strange sort of disconnect between survival and badass. After all it wasn't like he had exactly set out to do what he had done, he'd just been thrown into it. But before he could really give it much thought, Noctis was leaning in. Noctis' forehead had pressed to his shoulder and for the briefest moment Prompto stiffened, breath caught in his throat. It was funny, he had spent years falling into casual contact with Noctis (on his side at least), an arm slung around shoulders here a side bump there… then with Gladio and Ignis… but it had only taken a year without any of it to find himself startled by it once more. Noctis' move so much different than the impulsive hug Prompto had given earlier, quieter in the entryway of the townhouse, without anyone else milling about and asking questions. Intimate his mind supplied but he shoved that one aside quick. Prompto relaxed into it quickly though, a slow breath out as he moved his other arm to wrap around Noctis' shoulders. But where Noctis felt like he might not fall to pieces at any moment it was the opposite for Prompto. The elation of seeing Noctis - safe and mostly uninjured - having faded into the harsh reality. Noctis was stuck in this hell of a place with him - away from Ignis and Gladio, his people, his life and all it entailed. Stuck with no real way of knowing they'd ever get back and gods what kind of friend did that make Prompto to have ever been happy for a second at seeing him here. The guilt crept up fast and suddenly it was all encompassing. A giant void of awfulness that he wanted so desperately not to get sucked into but yet he was. But still… there was that tug, that feeling that he couldn't quite shake as Noctis leaned into him. The one that made him feel like he was complete again, the missing pieces clicking back into place by Noct's mere presence. As silly and as cheesy as that sounded in his head. It was like being pulled in a hundred different directions all at once and he struggled to keep himself together. His throat suddenly dry and tight and his eyes burning he found himself clinging more to Noctis. His arms wrapped around the other properly now - all the worry and guilt at Noctis even being there in the first place not enough to drown out that fear that if he let go Noctis might just up and vanish again. "I -" he started, his voice a crack more than anything. "I missed you." And that much was true. The only thing he knew for sure and it radiated in the mess of everything else. The only pure fact of this whole mess. He had missed Noct. More than anything, more than he had ever imagined possible… more than he knew even a best friend should. Noctis had no words in response to Prompto's admission. Nothing he could say that could possibly make it better, though his heart ached something fierce when he heard how badly his friend was hurting. His only response was a sharp, shuddering intake of air, and then Noctis was wrapping both his arms around Prompto in return, hugging him far more carefully than he had earlier in the day. Then, it had been reckless with relief and desperation, but now, it was softer, gentler, like he was savoring the contact so he could recall it in his mind later. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, because that was all he could offer. An apology heavy with everything he couldn't voice—his concern, his sorrow, his fear. Noctis clutched the back of Prompto's shirt and swallowed hard, pushing down the urge to cry even as tears welled up against his will. I abandoned you when you needed me most, he thought, sickened by the thought. There must have been some way to fight harder. To force himself to wake up. What was the point of getting sucked into a crystal when you left behind all the people you were destined to save? So much loss. So much pain. Noctis was exhausted, but he knew he'd never voluntarily allow himself to sleep again. He started to ease away from Prompto then, eyes glassy, but determined. "What can I do for you?" There was no arguing when he sounded like this—he'd help, or he'd find a way to help. Prompto buried his face into the crook of Noctis' neck, a move he wasn't even entirely aware he was making until he had done so. And he really didn't mind that, given he'd been traipsing through the wilderness for two weeks, Noct smelled of dirt and sweat. It still felt warm, comforting in a way he couldn't quantify to be this close, to be able to know with all certainty that Noctis was here and real and solid under his touch. Not just some dream that would fade, or worse turn nightmarish before he woke. He shook his head at Noctis' apology. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he countered softly, voice muffled a bit by the way his head was tucked into Noctis. He could never blame Noctis for what had happened - how was he supposed to have known. And even if he had? Well, that wouldn't have changed that it was probably still supposed to happen. The fact some nobody missed his best friend? Well, that was always gonna come last in a long list of things that meant a whole hell of a lot more in the grand scheme of their world. It had to. He quickly pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as they started to part, cutting off the tears that threatened to come with a mental get it together at himself. He laughed, soft and not quite as carefree as it might have once been at Noct's words and the tone in them. That tone he knew well. The Crown Prince of Stubborness. But the last thing Prompto wanted was to make Noct feel like he had to make up for something, or try to do something about it. Not when he'd just gotten there. And so his answer was, probably predictably, a request that was more for Noct than himself. "Shower?" he started, "you kinda reek, dude," his tone teasing at the words and without any real malice or offense. Noctis frowned deeply when it looked as though Prompto was trying not to cry. "Dude —" But what could he possibly say that would make any of this better? He didn't even know how long he'd be trapped inside the damn crystal, and that said nothing of the fact that he'd have even less time to live once he was finally released. These were things he couldn't tell Prompto. Things that would almost certainly make his closest and dearest friend feel worse. "Prom," he tried again, using the nickname he reserved for quiet moments like this, when his voice pitched low and soft. "M'here now. Okay? And I promise I'm not going anywhere without a fight. You can count on it." Sure, it wasn't much. There was no way of knowing whether either of them would disappear tomorrow. But he sure as hell wasn't going to just let it happen. Too much of his life was already determined by other people, forces greater than himself. This — being here, sticking by Prompto — that was what he wanted. Needed. Not just for his best friend, but for himself, too. His whole face twisted into an annoyed look at Prompto's next words, however. "Alright, alright! Sheesh." Noctis gave his best friend a little shove, grateful for the break in the tension that had twisted and woven between them, making him feel nervous without knowing why. He stepped back and Umbra was at attention again, her unusual eyes staring at him, waiting. "Where's the bathroom?" The quiet Prom was something he hadn't been sure he'd ever even hear again, and it was bittersweet now to have it back. At once somehow feeling like no time had passed at all and feeling every single second of their years apart. He wanted to point out that Noctis couldn't know that - that they could be ripped apart here just as quickly and without any care to whether they wanted to be or not just as they had back home. He could feel the reality of that, an anxious terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that nothing about this was set in stone. But Noctis' insistence to the contrary, the promise that he'd fight to keep it from happening again did help. Eased at some of that anxiousness, that fear that just as quickly as he got Noctis back he could be gone again. Prompto gave a little shoulder bump back in retaliation with a grin. The broken tension weighed on him in much the same way, but he forced it from his mind. Excused it as it had been so long since they'd seen each other, been in each other's space. It was bound to have a weird energy, right? "There's one upstairs," he answered and nodded toward the stairs. "I've got some extra clothes too, they should fit," they were after all, pretty close to the same size. He started up the stairs, flicked on the light in the bathroom as they passed and led Noct to the room he'd claimed, flicking on the light as they entered. "Just - uh - grab whatever you want from the dresser -" he said and sunk down onto the edge of the bed. Umbra was skittering up the stairs far quicker than Noctis, who walked at a much slower pace and had to use the railing to take some of the weight off his leg. The wound wasn't bad at all — John had done an excellent job of patching him up, considering the less than ideal circumstances they'd found themselves in. It was the fact that he'd put more weight on his other leg that his muscles felt stiff and overused. A hot shower would go a long way toward easing some of that strain. Noctis blew out a relieved breath when they finally got to Prompto's room and replied with an ever-eloquent "Cool." His gaze roamed over everything, curious about his best friend's time here and what he'd accumulated. Then he realized he still had his coat on, and he shifted, suddenly embarrassed. "Uh ... don't laugh, okay?" Noctis proceeded to undress, or at least, he took off a few outer layers — namely, a pair of worn leather boots and the giant parka he'd found. Underneath he was wearing no less than three ugly sweaters, and none of them black, the color he preferred wearing. These were ... brighter. Much brighter. And fuzzy. He shot Prompto a warning look, then peeled off two of them. One would be thrown at his friend's face if he so much as breathed differently. There wasn't really that much to look at. The room itself was fairly neutral in decor, and Prompto hadn't done much to change it. Prompto didn't really accumulate much of anything anymore. After all, everything could be gone in an instant so why bother really. The fall of Insomnia had hammered that one home. He'd just gotten used to it, not having stuff really. He had the basics and that was all he needed. Especially in this world. But he didn't really have time to dwell on watching Noctis take in the room as suddenly Noctis was getting rid of clothes. And not just the jacket but the clothes underneath too. Really it was probably a good thing the sweaters were so absolutely ridiculous because it was probably the only thing keeping Prompto level headed about the sudden stripping. "Dude…" he started, clearly trying to hold the warned against laughter at bay. Which, to his credit he did. He also summoned his camera (and gods how he had missed that one) from the armiger with a practiced ease (almost as if he hadn't spent almost a year not being able to do so) and quickly lifted it and snapped a picture of Noctis in all his bright ugly sweater glory. But he didn't laugh. Barely. "DON'T YOU DARE —" Noctis was already launching himself at Prompto, though, and making a grab for the camera. "Give me that," he insisted despite his own poorly contained laughter, climbing half on top of his friend to try and get at the thing. He wanted to delete what was definitely the worst photo of himself in existence, but more than that, he kind of wanted to do this again — the closeness and the horsing around, some semblance of their old behavior before everything went to absolute shit. They used to run around the campfire sometimes, or snag a few more minutes of rest just lazing around in the tent while Ignis and Gladio prepared for the day. Noctis rarely let his guard down around anyone, but Prompto had always been the exception. Prompto made him want to be touched, and wasn't that a new feeling. It just sucked that he'd taken such a bad picture. "Come on, man, delete it!" Whining would definitely help his case, as would more grappling to try and get the camera for himself. He laughed at that as he fell back against the bed at the sudden weight of Noctis on him. But he didn't give. His hand holding the camera had a firm grip and he held it as far away from Noct as he could muster. "No way, dude -" Prompto wiggled under Noctis in an attempt to extract himself. And for a moment it was exactly like old times. Goofing off for no other reason than they could and Prompto instantly felt years younger. "I'm keeping it," a smirk as he hooked a leg around Noctis and rolled them over, a triumphant grin as he held the camera up and out of reach. "For posterity," announced as though he was really doing Noctis a solid by keeping the world's worst photo of him. Noctis grunted when he ended up on his back, a little surprised that Prompto actually managed to overpower him. Surprised and ... happy about it? He didn't focus too hard on that feeling, instead switching tactics by flattening both hands along his friend's sides before tickling him viciously. "Hand — it — over!" Noctis demanded, his wide grin completely ruining the effect. For a brief few moments, he wasn't agonizing over the future of their world, or his own rapidly approaching death, or even the fact that they'd somehow ended up in Gods knew where. Noctis was here, in the present, and a terrible photo of him wearing a bright purple sweater had very little to do with it, and all to do with Prompto. Prompto gasped at the hands on his sides, knowing what was about to come before it dissolved into laughter. Ridiculously ticklish even still he was easy prey as he folded over and fought vainly to try to keep it together. "Noct! Nooooooooooct -" whined out between gaps of laughter, breathless. "Staaaahp… please…" The camera was dropped onto the bed, both from the tickling making it hard to keep his grip and in favour of fighting back. Prompto's hands moved to Noct's and he peeled them off his sides, fingers curled around Noct's wrists. His breathing was laboured, still trying to catch it after the laughing fit and a grin on his face as he looked down at Noct. Vaguely he was aware, some lingering thought in the back of his mind, that there was maybe a level of inappropriateness to the situation. His knees on either side of Noct's from his spot above him, his hands curled around Noct's wrists… but that didn't deter him either. "You are the worst," he said, though the sentiment was hindered by the grin he had. "Ha. You like it, though," was out of his mouth before he'd thought better about it. Noctis struggled a bit against the hold Prompto had on his wrists, but it was half-hearted, really, his puffs of breath from the exertion still coming out a little faster than usual. He grinned right back at his friend, though he wasn't aware his facial expression had softened considerably. This was ... nice. Really nice. Comforting in ways he didn't know how to process, having his friend so close and clearly happy. How long had it been since they'd just messed around like this? When shit made sense? Noctis shifted a little, tugging one of his hands free. "Dude, there's — here, just, don't move —" He reached up to pick a bit of fluff from Prompto's hair, chuckling softly. "S'from the sweater," he said, unnecessarily, holding the bright purple threads of wool up for him to see. He didn't move otherwise. Didn't want to. Prompto over the years had become an expert at compartmentalizing. A required self care technique when one was hopelessly in love with their best friend. It was the only way he had managed to stay as Noct's best friend for so long and not drive himself completely crazy. But it had been years since he'd seen Noctis. Years since they'd even been in the same room let alone fallen into this kind of goofing around. And it was very clear suddenly as he stared down at Noct, just how out of practice he was. Even as exhausted and worn out looking as Noct was then, even with the dirt and grime, the ridiculous purple sweater, the hair that probably hadn't been washed in gods knew how long… Noctis could still make his heart beat faster, make his stomach drop, make him want more than anyone else ever could. Especially as that grin came across Noct's face, the expression open and soft and everything Prompto had missed and longed for all these years. Idly he wondered if he ever in his life wanted to kiss someone as badly as he wanted to kiss Noctis then. His breath hitched - he prayed it could be excused off as still catching it - as Noctis reached to pull the fluff from his hair. He grinned a little. "You're shedding more than my dog," he joked. Prompto released his hands from Noct and shifted to grab one of the awful sweaters that had been discarded, pulled it quickly over his head and grabbed the camera. He settled back onto the bed beside Noct. "You do realize we have years of selfies to make up for," he pointed out with a soft laugh and held the camera out above them to take just that. "Hey. It's not like I can help it." Noctis poked Prompto's side, lightly, before his friend moved away to ... was he actually putting one of the sweaters on? That made him grin, amused by the hideous, too-bright pink color that still somehow complimented Prompto’s eyes and made his freckles stand out even more than usual. It's kinda cute, he thought, not really knowing why that popped into his head but feeling as though it were natural all the same. Prompto was cute — that was just factual information. He was sunny and empathetic and loyal and strong, Gods he was strong, stronger than anyone else, even if the guy never seemed to recognize it in himself. Noctis was grateful to be here with him, to have this time together. Why he felt jittery and too-warm — like he might jump out of his skin at any moment — that was another matter, something he firmly pushed aside. Prompto wanted to take selfies? Then they'd take selfies. He scooted closer until their sides were pressed together and stuck his tongue out for the first one. "That's what you get for taking a pic of the shit sweater, bro." There was an elbow dug into Noct's side at the tongue sticking out but he laughed regardless. "Oh come on, dude." Prompto pulled the camera back and checked the picture. Which was several levels of ridiculous given their attire. There was the faintest of frown as he stared at the picture. A stark reminder of how rough the past couple years really had been - that near constant darkness under his eyes now, the lines etched in prematurely. The look of someone constantly on the brink of exhaustion. And a far cry from the face he knew would greet him if he scrolled forward to go back to the start of the memory card. To the pictures on those first few days of their road trip, when they'd been younger than he had even realized then. Before everything fell apart and kept falling apart. But he smirked quickly, gave a glance to Noct at his side. "You're right, it's a terrible sweater," he conceded. Noctis grew quiet as he looked at the picture, too, his own line of thought following a similar path. Prompto looked ... worn out. Like he'd been facing more horrible things than Noctis could possibly imagine, and it made him queasy with guilt. How dare he feel bad about having to give up his life to save everyone? He didn't even have to live in what was clearly hell like Prompto did, and here he was, moping about dying when it would mean the survival of their entire world. Luna had given her own life to ensure he had the opportunity to do this. So had Ravus. And Iggy's sight, Prompto and Gladio's wellbeing, not to mention the entire fucking sun was gone — He sat up abruptly and rubbed his eyes, faking a yawn to cover the fact that he was on the brink of tears. "Looks better on you," Noctis said, shucking off the purple sweater and moving to look through what clothes Prompto had. Predictably, he just grabbed anything in black. Umbra was lingering by the door, watching, though he glanced at the spot Noctis had vacated on the bed as if he wanted to jump up but was too well-behaved to do it. "I won't use up the hot water. If you ... want to shower, too." Why was he lingering? He felt so weird, but it was probably because crystal stasis had messed with him so hard. Right? Right. Prompto sat up as Noctis moved to the dresser. He raked a hand through his hair and rested his arms on his bent knees. Max was not nearly as well behaved as Umbra and hopped up onto the bed. Though in his defense it was his side because Prompto was that weak dog owner that totally slept with his dog. Prompto absentmindedly dropped a hand to scratch at the top of Max's head. "Nah, dude," he answered. "I'm good for now, take your time." He'd showered in the morning, and even if not he still would have gone without for Noctis to get a good shower in after everything. He just needed to remind himself it was ridiculous to feel the apprehension that started to settle in at the idea of letting Noct out of his sight. He was going to shower, he wasn't going to up and disappear. "There's towels in the bathroom, shampoo and stuff… use whatever you want." Noctis stared at nothing in particular for a long moment before he seemed to shake himself out of it. "Yeah. Uh ... right. Thanks." A little disoriented, he left, unaware of the fact that Prompto was also experiencing the same thing: apprehension at the thought of leaving his friend's side already, as if not being able to see him — feel him as a tangible thing — would mean all of this might evaporate. For all he knew, this could be a very elaborate dream, one he'd wake up from to a world plunged into darkness and a looming destiny he'd have to fulfill. Noctis had to force himself to breathe when he finally made it to the bathroom, just leaning against the closed door to get his bearings again. Prompto's in the other room. He's right there. I'm awake. This is really my body. Gods, he was such a fucking mess. The shower was as quick as he could possibly make it, less about enjoyment and more about getting clean. Noctis emerged dressed not fifteen minutes later, feeling even more jittery than when he'd gone in, running a towel through his damp hair and carefully stepping over Umbra, who had taken to guarding the door. "Still here?" He called. It was a stupid question, but he needed to hear Prompto's voice. And maybe, if he'd let him, hold his hand. Something. Because the longer he wasn't near him, the longer he felt his grip on reality slip. It was only the knowing it would probably look excessively creepy if he did that kept Prompto from hovering outside the door as Noctis showered. Even still, he was a ball of anxiety in the time Noct was gone. He kept a hand on Max, the dog's presence helping at least a little with the panic. He was just about to slide into the almost creepy territory and go stand quickly outside the bathroom door - just for a moment, but then the shower stopped and Prompto moved back to his bed. "Yeah, I'm here," he called out from the room. He hoped he didn't sound as relieved as he felt because really… that was probably weird. "You hungry or anything?" he asked. "I could make you something to eat." That's the second time you offered food, Noctis thought, but he bit his tongue and stood with his arms crossed, leaning against Prompto's door. "Yeah, alright," he replied, figuring his friend might need something to do that didn't involve Noctis staring at him. Maybe cooking would help ease some of this ... whatever it was, hovering between them, tense and warm and confusing. So he went back downstairs, grateful that his leg wasn't bothering him anymore (the hot water did wonders for easing muscle pain). It was when they all made it to the kitchen that Noctis got down on his knees and sat, reaching a hand out for Max to sniff. "Hey, buddy. Sorry I'm crashing your bachelor pad. S'nice to meet you." He genuinely wanted to make friends with Prompto's dog. It was their territory after all, and he was encroaching on that space. It was important to him that Max knew he respected that. If he looked a little silly like this, well. Fuck it. Noctis hugged chocobos and fed stray cats in the past, too. This was his life. Prompto wasn't even sure what he needed. He felt at once like having Noct there was just like slipping back into old times and at the same he felt rusty and out of sorts. He wanted to pretend like nothing was different, that nothing had changed but for the first time he wondered if maybe he couldn't. If maybe too much had happened, if maybe he had changed too much. He finally felt like all those missing pieces of himself were back with Noct's mere presence, but the parts of him that Noctis didn't fill in? Those felt so damn far from the person he had been before he put a bullet in Verstael's skull, before he watched his best friend get sucked into some magical crystal, before the sun sank behind the horizon and never came back up, before he saw the sheer horrors some people were capable of when they had nothing left to lose, before the countless scars and bruises, before months without seeing another living soul save Max. So maybe it was just easier to be awkwardly over the top with the only task that had ever made sense in his life. Take care of Noctis. He went down the stairs in turn, rummaged through the selves and the remembered he had some pasta in the fridge from lunch he'd made earlier. Prompto set about putting it in the microwave to heat and dug out some cutlery. It would be a far cry from the meals Ignis used to make - just some packaged noodles and sauce - but it was warm and that was a lot after surviving out there. Prompto turned to see Noct on his knees in front of Max and he couldn't help but smile at the sight. It would never fail to make him to do, seeing Noctis in all his princely glory down on some animal's level and talking to it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Prompto watched as Max sniffed the offered hand and then butted into it, demanding ear scratches. "He likes you," Prompto assured Noct and grinned a little. The ding of the microwave rang out and Prompto grabbed the plate of pasta to set on the table. "S'nothing fancy," he warned and moved around the kitchen to fill them both a glass of water. He grabbed the bottle of advil he had on the counter and set it down beside Noct's plate. "For your leg, if it's bugging you," which was as close to are you okay as he knew he could give Noctis. "Mnnn. He's a good boy," Noctis all but crooned, pleased when Max seemed favorable to his attention. He rubbed behind the dog's ears enthusiastically, and laughed a little when Umbra butted into his back, clearly peeved he wasn't also entitled to pets at the same time. "Uh oh. We're gonna have a problem here." Noctis hadn't felt this carefree in ... well, he couldn't remember. Probably around the time they were desperate for money and taking on as many hunts as they could manage, when nothing else kept them company but each other and the open road. He knew things couldn't be like that ever again. It was in the way Prompto stood differently, acted differently, like he was trying to hide from Noctis or shield him from something. He sighed. There was nothing Noctis could do but be there for his best friend as long as he still drew breath. If that meant eating when his appetite was shot to shit thanks to nerves, he could manage that much. Noctis took a seat at the table (he would've eaten from the floor if Prompto had joined him, honestly) and waved a hand at the advil before his friend even said anything. "You should save it. Somebody could really need that one day." Noctis was so used to the chronic pain that whatever he felt now was pretty much second nature. Just a little stiffness and soreness. Nothing that shower and some downtime wouldn't fix. He dug into the pasta, though, keeping half an eye on Prompto as if he might go somewhere. Which was ridiculous. Should he say something to fill the silence? What would Iggy do in this situation? Gladio, even? Noctis was at a complete loss. So he nudged Prompto's foot under the table, because that was totally mature. "Play nice," he said to the dogs with a small laugh to the words. He hoped the two would get along, but it was always a risk putting two animals together. Though Max did well with everyone in camp so that gave Prompto at least a little hope that he'd warm up to Umbra. Prompto picked at the sleeves of the sweater he was still wearing (because he simply forgot to take it off before heading downstairs, not because it still kind of faintly smelled like Noctis and was a tactical reminder that Noctis was there) as Noctis started to eat. He wasn't exactly surprised that Noct turned down the painkillers, but at least he had tried. Though if Noctis had seemed in worse shape Prompto would have pushed it more. There was a soft smile at the feel of Noct's foot nudging his and he nudged back and then kept his foot resting against Noctis'. His eyes moved over to Umbra and watched the other dog. It had always been clear from the few times Prompto had seen Umbra that Umbra was no regular dog. It was abundantly clear when next to Max - a sort of intelligence in Umbra's eyes that Max lacked. "I'm glad you had him," Prompto said as he looked back to Noct, meaning Umbra. "I - I should have gone out to find you sooner," he admitted quietly as his gaze went down to his hands on the table. He of course knew that Sherlock had had a point in making him stay put, but that didn't make the guilt any less. "I'm sorry, Noct." Noctis smiled just a little bit, though he kept his gaze trained to his food. The warm weight of his friend's foot leaning against his was comforting. But the smile vanished when Prompto apologized, and he glanced up, chewing and swallowing first before he responded. "There's no way you would've found me," he pointed out, setting his fork down. The food sat uneasily in his stomach now, given the conversation. He didn't like it when his best friend beat himself up over things he had absolutely no control over. It was ... distressing, to say the least, especially when so much was left unspoken between them. "Not right away. You could've been, like, wandering for days. And then we'd both be lost." Umbra was watching them quietly. "Prom," he said, using the nickname again in that same soft voice. Noctis laid his hand on the table between them, palm up, an offering. "It's cool. I’m glad you didn't go running out there. I probably would've freaked a little." I'm still worried about you, he thought, but couldn't voice that. Even if it was in his eyes, and the unhappy slope of his mouth, and the way he reached for him to establish that contact again. He wanted to argue to the counter - that maybe he wouldn't have gotten lost, that maybe he could have gotten to Noct before he'd gotten hurt, so many maybes that really only added up to how little his own life meant when put against Noctis'. It had felt foreign and weird in those first few days when Sherlock had insisted he sit still - so used to Ignis and Gladio who had the same blind stubbornness of protect Noctis at all costs as he did. A stark reminder of the differences in the world he now found himself in and the one he left behind. A world where Noctis wasn't a prince (king, really) and he himself sworn to protect him. A world instead where they were just twenty something year old kids and the rules were suddenly different. Prompto lifted his hand set his palm against Noct's open one without even a second thought. Idly he wondered if it would be weird if he suggested Noctis just crash in his room instead of the empty one - like old times with all of them crowded into a too small motel room. Probably. "Yeah… maybe," he conceded. "Earth is fucking big, dude," he continued with a huff. "There's like hundreds of countries, I have no idea how anyone ever remembered all of them…" he'd spent some time going over the books in the library, trying to sort out the particulars of this world. Or at least what it had been before everything had clearly gone to shit. The thing was, Noctis didn't see it that way — had never thought his life was more valuable than anyone else's. He'd warped himself in front of plenty of dangerous and terrifying things to protect his friends. Never even gave it a second thought. If anything, this was the first time he felt truly frightened of his own mortality. Maybe because knowing when and how he would die made it suddenly too real, too tangible a thing that he could agonize and stress over. Would it hurt? Take a long time? Did he get to see his dad and Luna after? Would his friends be safe? Or would they try to protect him from this, even when he'd be doing it to protect them? Noctis blew out an unsteady breath. "Really?" He asked, a little shakily, trying to push all of that aside. "D'you know if there's any way to contact people in other places? Like with a radio or something." It seemed the most important thing: figuring out if there were survivors and how best to get help to them. Not that he'd know the first thing about transporting resources long distances around here. He felt Umbra rest his furry head on his leg underneath the table, and some of the tension in Noctis eased. Being here bought him more time. How much, he didn't know, but he'd need to learn how to focus on that. Umbra was a good reminder. Idly Prompto's fingers started moving over Noct's palm, over the calluses that still lingered from swords and fishing reels, too many long hours with video games. And while Prompto had never much shied away from physical contact, this was definitely different than what they normally fell into. He was too damn tired and too damn relieved to have Noctis there though to even start to wade through the muddled mess of what it might mean. He shrugged at the question. "I've tried the radio thing, never seem to get anything but static," the truck he'd found while out there had had a CB and weeks of scanning channels and frequencies hadn't amounted to anything. His hand stilled against Noctis' and his gaze dropped down to them on the table. "I - I don't know, dude… I was out there for a while and I never came across… anyone," he said quietly. If there were other people, they were sparse or well hidden that was for sure. Noctis was trying to pay attention. Really, he was. But Prompto's fingers were tracing lazy patterns against his palm, and suddenly, his whole world narrowed to just that touch. It was incredibly distracting. Probably because he wasn't ever touched like this by anyone, nor had he ever welcomed it. This was ... difficult for him, usually, though less so when it was initiated by his best friend. Noctis hadn't grown up in a home that really expressed affection in this way. Gladio was more or less the only other person who crossed that barrier with him, and even then, Noctis ducked around his arm and smacked his hand away. It was playful. Rarely serious. This ... this kind of felt serious. "Uh. Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "That - that makes sense, I guess." It was only when Prompto's fingers stopped that he could gather his scattered thoughts together. Noctis gave Prompto's hand a little reassuring squeeze. "I wonder if there's a better way to flag people down, you know? Let them know there's somewhere safe to crash." Lighting the camp up like Lestallum at night was probably not the way to go. At least when their numbers were so few. Noctis looked thoughtful. "Who's in charge here, anyway?" Prompto could count on one hand the amount of times he could clearly remember being hugged by his parents, but whereas Noct seemed to shy away from contact Prompto had always felt the opposite. Craved it to make up for the lack of it growing up. Though all their little shoulder bumps and high fives, the ridiculous amount of time he'd joking slapped Noctis on the ass, the times one of them might have drifted off using the other as a glorified pillow (usually Noc) was a far cry from the simple hand holding at a kitchen table. And Prompto was really trying not to read into it too much, knowing that there likely wasn't anything to read into. Other than the need for that constant reminder that the other was indeed there. He huffed a little laugh at the question. "I don't think we've really gotten that far," he said. "I mean Poe tends to try every now and then, Caroline makes Ignis look unorganized half the time…" a shrug. "Pretty sure Sherlock and Natasha would murder most of us in our sleep for funsies if they thought they could get away with it," he was - mostly - joking about that one. "Sam and I just do our thing, go get shit from outside the camp." It wasn't that much different from home really, just on a far smaller scale. But the basic day to day was the same, just try not to get killed. Noctis didn't need to read into open displays of affection like this. He'd never had to — because it was very rare that he felt comfortable enough around someone to even do this in the first place. Sometimes he wished he were more like Prompto, who seemed to find it so easy to express his feelings through touch, like it didn't make him seize up with suspicion and fear to cross that boundary. He wanted to reach out to all of his friends, to be able to hug them and tell them how much they all meant. But he couldn't. Noctis could touch Prompto, though. He felt absolutely no fear holding his best friend's hand; if anything, he felt all the stress and tension he'd been carrying begin to melt away, and he had to cover his mouth with his free hand to stifle a yawn. "Sorry," Noctis said, a little embarrassed. He hadn't slept well at all since he'd woken up here, even if that was a deliberate choice on his part. "Sounds like you made friends here. They're all cool?" It was an unspoken did any of them hurt you? Because they'd be having words if that was the case. The Sherlock and Natasha people seemed high on the list, but he couldn't tell. Prompto nodded a little at the question - knowing where Noct's mind was really going with it. "They're cool," he offered. Kind of a weird mismash of people but they were all the in the same boat regardless. Hard to be complete assholes to each other when you kind of needed each other. Still though… "not as cool as you guys." He'd been a bit distant from Gladio and Ignis before being pulled through, something in retrospect he regretted. He'd missed them. Missed the easy companionship they'd had before everything went to shit. Even more so now that he knew he couldn't just go pick back up with them. Prompto gave Noct's hand a squeeze and then stood up to put the bowl in the sink to be dealt with later. "Wanna watch a movie?" he offered, knowing a suggestion to go to bed would be shot down. But maybe a movie wouldn't. At the very least hanging out on the couch was rest even if it wasn't sleep. Noctis felt the loss of Prompto's hand way more keenly than he thought he would, and it was more than a little concerning. He curled his fingers into his palm and watched his friend quietly, struggling to process everything in the last few hours without any real success. He could barely keep his eyes open — parsing the complicated tangle of emotions between them was just not something he could handle right now. So he huffed out a breath, knowing why Prompto had suggested a movie, but too desperate to hang around him more to contradict the thinly veiled attempt to get him to sleep. "Yeah, alright," he said, and pushed out of his chair to follow his friend inside. It ultimately didn't matter what movie they ended up choosing, because twenty minutes in, Noctis was out like a light switch, lulled by the warmth and steady movement of Prompto's breathing pressed against his side. He leaned his cheek against his friend's shoulder and slept deeply, despite being so afraid to finally let go enough to rest. But Prompto was different. He was always different. |