Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once the sun appears in the sky and the Sanderson brothers turn to dust, there is a moment in which the world stands still and silent.

In truth, there isn't any such silence; they are all panting with exertion, with blood thundering through their ears, and Prompto is coughing a little from his awkward sprawl atop an overturned tombstone. The relief they feel, however, is genuine -- even as a part of them continues alert, waiting for the brothers to return yet again.

But the relief doesn’t last long for Prompto. He’s stuck on an uncomfortable, solid slab of rock, and even though his left shoulder is screaming from the impact that landed him there, he can’t move. They had all seen what happened to Ardyn once his feet had touched the cemetery’s hallowed ground, and Prompto does not wish to turn into a statue.

“Guys,” he rasps, turning his head from one side to the other. “Somebody please check on Noct, Ardyn threw him to the ground and I haven’t seen him since, please tell me that he’s okay,” he begs, with a knot forming on his throat and tears gathering on his eyes.

There’s the sound of crunching leaves as one of the others move, but he can only see them from the corner of his eyes. Prompto tries to push down the voice in his head that tells him that Noctis is dead, that the brothers died before he could heal and now he’s gone.

Prompto had been looking forward to having a companion for the rest of his life, someone he could talk and joke and cry with, even if talking with a cat would probably get him branded as bat-shit insane by the masses. It was nice to be around Noctis -- had been even before Prompto discovered he was actually a human -- and to lose him not even a full day later might break his heart into more pieces than he’d like to admit.

So Prompto waits with bated breath for Gladio or Ignis or even Iris to tell him that Noctis is just fine; waits for Noctis himself to come slinking by and remind Prompto that he’s immortal, dummy, or scoff at him for thinking Noctis would die so easily.

“Prompto…” Gladio trails off. His tone is hard to interpret, but Prompto thinks there was a hint of confusion in it -- which is ignored as his heart starts to wilt.

“No,” Prompto says. “No, no, please no, please tell me he’s okay, he can’t die, right?? Please please please,” he sobs, curling up even further despite the aching shoulder and ribs in an instinctual attempt to protect himself from the pain, nevermind that it’s emotional instead of physical.

“Prompto,” Ignis calls next, but the only thing Prompto can hear is the blood rushing through his ears and the sobs coming out of his chest.

That is, until a shadow falls across him and a familiar voice sounds out.

“Hey, why are you crying? I’m right here, you know,” Noctis says, and Prompto turns so fast that he almost falls off the tombstone, stopped only by Noctis’ fast reflexes.

He stares at the hand holding his shoulder, the human hand that prevented him from tipping over and turning into stone.

‘How the goddamned fuck is this possible?’ is what his brain screams at him. Suddenly, the incredulity in Gladio’s voice makes a lot of sense.

“Noct? ” he asks, not bothering to hide his shock.

“Yep,” the handsome human in front of him nods.

Prompto takes in the midnight hair, the blue eyes and pale skin; takes in the way the boy is looking at him, and has no doubt that it is, indeed, Noctis.

He can deal with the ‘oh no, he’s cute’ later, though.

“How?” Prompto wonders, propping himself up with an elbow before remembering that his left shoulder hurts like hell and aborting the motion.

“I have no idea,” Noctis shrugs, “but I won’t be complaining anytime soon.”

Prompto nods distractedly, pulling up what he remembers of spells and curses to make sense of the current situation.

“Leave the thinking for later, blondie, we should probably get out of here,” Gladio says, interrupting his train of thought.

“And preferably go to an hospital,” Ignis adds, with Iris at his side.

“Yeah, we should do that,” Prompto acquiesces. “A little help?” he asks, wiggling a little on the tombstone.

The hint had been directed to Gladio, but it’s Noctis who picks him up. Prompto’s eyes go wide as he is lifted in a princess carry with a gentleness that also makes his cheeks redden. He places his good arm around Noctis’ shoulders and they make their way out of the cemetery quietly.

Noctis sets him down once they’re a fair distance from it, but keeps an arm around Prompto’s waist when his knees wobble and he almost crashes back onto the ground. Now that he’s standing up, a previously unnoticed dizziness makes itself known, along with an exhaustion so all-consuming that Prompto thinks he could sleep for an entire week.

Distantly, he acknowledges that it must be an after effect of the potion the brothers had forced him to drink, and also of the small amount of his life force that Ardyn had managed to take -- even if it had returned afterwards. The hospital is thankfully not very far, but Prompto’s mind is so hazy that it wouldn’t make much of a difference even if it was.

By the time a nurse comes around to check on him, his eyes are spending more time closed than open. Ignis is the one to make up a story for how Prompto has acquired his injuries, and they briefly examine his bruises and ask him about his shoulder before sending him off to do an x-ray to guarantee nothing is broken.

There’s a doctor waiting for him when he comes back, and Prompto forces himself to stay awake long enough to answer all the questions as well as half-heartedly hear the recommendations. The others have had their small cuts cleaned in the meantime, so the doctor tells them all to go home, take some painkillers and get plenty of rest.

Prompto hears Gladio saying he’ll call his dad to pick them up, but doesn’t really process it. Noctis has an arm around his waist -- a warm, comforting weight that pulls him closer until he is tucked into Noctis’ side at the waiting room.

It is in that position that he finally loses the battle against sleep, feeling safe for the first time since the night began.

x

Gladio’s dad makes a beeline for his children once he arrives. Noctis catches some parts of the conversation without even trying, as the man apologizes for not believing them when they went to the party; it’s obvious that he feels guilty.

Noctis can’t really imagine how it must have felt like, being literally unable to move for hours on end, simply looking at whoever was in your line of sight only to see your own desperation reflected in their eyes.

Prompto is sleeping at his side, all but dead to the world, and Noctis wonders for a moment how he hasn’t reached that point himself yet. His body feels heavy, his senses are off and it feels weird to not have a tail anymore, amongst other things. It’s been so long that he can’t say he truly remembers how it had felt to be transformed into a cat; all his memory provides is the familiar feeling of wrongness and grief.

Truth be told, he hadn’t really expected to come out alive of the entire ordeal that their night had been. Oh, he had almost ached for Prompto’s hopes to become reality when the boy had promised to take care of him for the rest of his life, and Noctis supposes that in a sense, they did -- just not on the same terms.

And now, with the boy he had become so fond of sleeping soundly while tucked under Noctis’ arm, he can’t bring himself to long for eternal rest as he had once done. Luna will just have to wait a few more decades, Noctis thinks, and swears that he hears her soft, sweet laughter in response, just on the edge of his hearing.

Noctis hides his smile on Prompto’s blond hair, readying himself to leave once Gladio approaches.

x

The Amicitia residence only starts seeing some activity again around noon.

Noctis and Prompto had crashed on the sofa after Clarus insisted on them staying over. Ignis had been dropped off at his own house, though they had promised to meet up later -- once everyone had had some sleep -- to talk about the consequences of the previous night.

Though Prompto was the first to fall asleep, he’s the second-to-last to wake up, only doing so when the others start to move around the house. Noctis is still out cold, squeezed into the minimal space between Prompto and the back of the sofa, with more than half of his body on top of the blonde.

When Prompto finally manages to escape Noctis’ hold, he follows both his ears and nose and ends up in the kitchen, where the three Amicitias work together to make lunch.

“Good afternoon, kid,” Clarus greets, stirring a pot. “I hope that sleeping on the couch didn’t aggravate your aches.”

Prompto rolls his left shoulder gently, wincing a bit at the lingering pain, but noting that it had gotten better after taking the painkillers Gladio had managed to get him to take.

“Don’t think it did. Thank you for letting us stay here, Mr. Amicitia,” Prompto says.

“As if I’d let the two of you go back to an empty house after what happened. I’ll buy a mattress of some sort -- inflatable, foldable, I don’t care -- and leave it around for whenever you want to swing by.”

“There’s no need for you to do that, sir!” Prompto protests. He’s just about to continue when Clarus gives him a hard look that has him closing his mouth immediately. For a moment, he wonders how the man had discovered that Prompto lives alone, but then reasons that Noctis must have told them.

“That boy-” Clarus starts, tilting his head in the direction of the living room. “Gladio told me he was a cat for three hundred years. Is that true?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

Clarus shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath. Prompto shifts awkwardly, glancing at Gladio and Iris, but they’re both too focused on cutting vegetables to meet his gaze.

“If this house had a spare room, I’d invite you to live with us,” Clarus says at last. Prompto’s instantaneous reaction is to sputter in disbelief.

“I could never!” he exclaims, louder than intended. “I don’t mind living on my own! The house is all paid for and my parents send me enough money to pay the bills and stuff! There’s really no need for such a thing, Mr. Amicitia,” Prompto explains, wringing his hands.

Noctis makes his appearance at that moment, with his eyes still half-closed, yawning so severely that Prompto has no way of resisting the urge to answer it with one of his own. He makes a beeline for one of the chairs around the kitchen island, dropping his head on it as soon as he’s sitting.

“Good afternoon, kid,” Clarus greets again, sparing Noctis a glance before turning back to Prompto and studying him for a long moment. “I still don’t think it’s right for you to live alone, but I can’t force you to choose otherwise,” he concedes.

“Don’t worry, Noct will probably start living with me now, so I won’t be alone anymore,” Prompto says, going for a reassuring smile.

Noctis looks up at the sound of his name and makes an intelligible, vaguely questioning sound. Prompto shakes his head, wordlessly letting him know that it’s nothing important.

Clarus watches both of them for a while before redirecting his attention to the stove once more. Prompto looks around the kitchen and squirms, wondering what he could do. Just when he’s about to join Noctis at the island, Gladio deposits a pile of plates on his arms. Prompto blinks at him in surprise.

“Set the table,” Gladio commands, turning away to get something from the fridge.

“We shouldn’t give work to guests, Gladio,” Clarus chides.

“Yeah, well, he’s gonna explode if we don’t, so better put him into use,” Gladio shrugs.

Iris points out where they usually sit so that Prompto can arrange the plates. Now that she doesn’t have to focus on a cutting board lest she cut herself, the girl has gone back to slow, sleepy blinks. Prompto smiles at how adorable that is and contains the urge to ruffle her hair playfully, not knowing how she’d react.

It’s strange to think that he’s know her for less than a full day, but Prompto shrugs mentally and accepts the familiarity that comes with surviving a life-threatening situation together.

Once his task is done, Prompto drags Noctis to the dining table and waits for food to be ready, which thankfully doesn’t take long. Lunch is a mostly quiet affair. The past night is too fresh on their minds for any banter to last long, and no one wants to bring the subject up in the middle of a meal.

Afterwards, Gladio shows them the way to the bathroom and lends some clothes to both Noctis and Prompto. Being able to wash off all the sweat, grime and cemetery dust is almost divine, even if Gladio’s clothes make Prompto look ridiculous. Noctis’ own clothes had consisted of simple pants that ended a little below his knee and a loose white shirt, and Prompto would bet that they were sleeping clothes from three centuries ago.

It’s still weird to link the name Noctis to a human as opposed to a cat; to look at him and see too-long black hair and deep blue eyes instead of the familiar black fur and triangle ears. Prompto doesn’t mind too much, however, because human Noctis is the type of handsome that you can look at for hours.

Ignis arrives around an hour later, and they hold a makeshift meeting inside the Amicitia living room. It is quickly decided that what had truly happened on what had become That Night -- with proper capitalization and all -- would be an absolute secret. If the existence of magic was revealed to the world at large, there would be chaos, and Prompto shudders at the thought of another witch hunt for the history books.

Iris sticks close to her dad for the whole thing, held gently to his side by a protective arm around her shoulders. Prompto regrets her involvement the most; a child her age -- only nine years old! -- shouldn’t have to go through the hell they had all experienced.

There is nothing they can do about the people that had been in the party with Clarus, of course, but somehow Prompto doesn’t think they’ll be much of a threat to their planned secrecy; who would believe such a story? Who would listen to someone saying that three men had entered the party and put a spell on them to stand still until they died and decide that ‘yes, it makes sense, even though you have no proof’?

Plus, in the eyes of the others, nothing else had happened. Some had mostly likely heard the conversation between them and Clarus, and Prompto’s standoff with Ardyn had drawn the attention of the majority of the participants, yes, but they didn’t know the rest. They had no idea of what happened before that -- or after.

Clarus insists on dropping the three of them off once everything has been discussed, and Prompto unlocks the front door to his house with Noctis close behind him.

Something fills his chest as he starts to turn the doorknob. Prompto would guess that this feeling is fear, and he closes his eyes to send a quick prayer to the heavens before opening the door. Even after the lights have been turned on and the rooms checked, Prompto can’t dispel the image of the Sanderson brothers, somehow still alive and waiting for him right there, in his house.

Prompto feels that said fear will haunt him for a long, long time.

x

He has a nightmare about the brothers that night -- the first of many.

He wakes up drenched in sweat, heart beating fast and eyes seeing figures in the shadows. Freeing himself from the sheets is a struggle that Prompto takes a while to win, immediately heading for the living room where Noctis is sleeping.

The images of his friends being killed in front of him sticks like superglue to the edges of his mind -- he can still see the smirk in Ardyn’s face as he left Iris for last; as well as the bloodied, mangled bodies at her feet.

Prompto spends a minute or so straining his eyes in the dark, focusing on Noctis’ chest. A part of his building panic quiets down when he recognizes the rhythmic rise and fall that proves that Noctis is still breathing -- that he’s alive.

His next stop is the kitchen. Prompto swallows a painkiller and opens the fridge, staring at what it contains as he decides whether to make tea or hot chocolate. He decides on the latter and starts setting the ingredients in the counter, doing his best to be quiet.

His efforts are for naught, however, because it doesn’t take long for rustling sounds to drift off from the living room.

“Prom?” Noctis calls, voice rough with sleep.

“In the kitchen,” Prompto says, turning to the open doorway to watch as Noctis shuffles into the room with his eyes still closed.

“What’s wrong?” Noctis asks, lifting a hand to scratch at an eyelid.

Prompto considers answering truthfully, weighting the pros and cons of describing his nightmare, and decides to keep quiet about it. “Nothing,” he says at last, shrugging with his good shoulder.

Noctis studies him for a moment, visibly more awake. Prompto fiddles with the hem of his shirt, wondering if Noctis will call him out on his bullshit.

“What are you making?” he asks instead, moving closer.

“Hot chocolate. Want some?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go back to sleep after drinking it,” Prompto says with his back to Noctis.

“You should grab your laptop so we can watch something,” Noctis suggests, completely ignoring Prompto’s own suggestion.

“Noct, just ‘cause I’m awake doesn’t mean you have to be, too,” Prompto protests.

“I’ll go take it then. You still keep it inside your wardrobe, right?”

Prompto resists the urge to pout as Noctis stands his ground.

“Yeah, on the left side,” he nods, admitting defeat.

“I’m gonna settle it on the coffee table so we can both see the screen,” Noctis says, and leaves to do just that.

Prompto goes back to making their beverages. There’s a brief moment in which he stops and wonders how he should do Noctis’ -- how would he like it? Is there even a point in asking? Did Noctis try it enough in the past to have a preference? In the end, he simply pushes that train of thought aside and makes them in the same way.

His laptop is open but still turned off when Prompto heads to the living room, cradling two softly steaming mugs. He wonders why for a second, but quickly reasons that Noctis must have been hesitant to power it up himself in the off chance that he messed it up. It makes sense; although Noctis had seen him use said laptop countless times, using it himself was an entirely different matter.

Note to self: must teach him how to work the appliances, just in case he feels too embarrassed to ask, Prompto thinks, handing Noctis one of the mugs.

His friend -- they are friends, right? Does it count as friendship if the other has been your on and off cat for three years? -- examines it closely and takes a small sip. His eyes widen a little and Prompto finds it in himself to smile when Noctis rushes to take a bigger sip right away.

That had been Noctis’ approach to everything they had eaten the previous day: an experimenting bite at first, followed by either instant approval or instant disapproval. Prompto thinks it must be a consequence of the whole three centuries as a cat thing -- he’s pretty sure that the palate of a feline is different from that of a human.

He leaves the task of choosing what they're going to watch to Noctis, settling deeper into the cushions as the opening sequence of Ant-Man begins. Noctis takes the blanket he had been sleeping with and offers half of it to Prompto as a way to ward of the early November chill.

Prompto spares a moment to thank the heavens that it’s Saturday upon noticing the time as he toggles full-screen; if it were a school night, he’d be fucked.

Slowly but surely, the movie manages to calm him down. Its lighter atmosphere makes for a nice reprieve after all the other super high-stakes Marvel movies, and it isn’t long before Noctis’ head is firmly lodged on his good shoulder.

There is still a curl of fear on the edge of his mind, though. Prompto shifts, guiding Noctis' head down until his arm is free to play with the other's hair, feeling the boy melt even further against him. He eventually lets his hand rest on the junction of Noctis’ neck and shoulder, and the pulse he can feel under his fingers soothes him right into sleep.

x

Sunday night has Prompto giving Noctis a crash course on how to actually use the house’s electronics. There isn’t much to teach, only some insecurity to dispel and misunderstandings to clear up; Noctis had seen Prompto use all of them countless times before, after all.

Prompto frets about leaving Noctis alone with no way of communicating with him during school, and keeps worrying about it until Noctis kindly reminds him that he had been alone in the house many, many times as a cat. Still, it takes a couple more promises and reassurances until Prompto becomes satisfied, and he mentally commends Noctis for not losing his patience during all that.

It’s nice to see Ignis and Gladio again at school; this way, Prompto can see that they're okay, instead of just hearing them say it over the phone. They try their best to act normal around each other, though Gladio does take a moment to remind Prompto to look for a way to remove the squawky bird tattoo he had cursed the other with.

He has to bit his lip to stop himself from giggling once Gladio tells them that he had to put duct tape over the beak for it to quiet down, though it doesn't take long for him to grimace in sympathy at the thought of having to remove said tape eventually.

Prompto steps aside and gives the two of them some privacy once he notices the looks they're sharing, just in case they want to set up a proper date or something of the sort. To pass the time, he worries some more about how Noctis is doing, wishing he could simply text him and ask if everything’s okay.

After school is over for the day, Prompto takes a portion of the money he had been stashing inside his wardrobe and goes shopping with Noctis to get the boy some clothes of his own. He could not in good conscience force the boy to keep using Prompto’s own clothes, even though they are pretty similar in size. He watches amusedly as Noctis goes straight for the dark colors, shaking his head whenever he gets a questioning look.

They head for the nearby Crow’s Nest after buying a few outfits, with Prompto pointing out what he thinks Noctis might like on the menu. It’s fun to see him so curious about the different tastes and textures of food, and Prompto laughs hard when Noctis all but spits the meager bite of lettuce he had taken. He accepts Noctis’ salad graciously, even though he almost chokes due to Noctis’ mildly horrified expression as he eats it.

It’s certainly interesting to see Noctis wearing something of his own choosing, and it's something Prompto could totally get used to. The walk back home is filled with heartfelt laughter and easy banter, with their bellies full of good food and arms laden with shopping bags.

Prompto sends another prayer to the heavens, but this one is one of thanks — for allowing him to meet and befriend someone like Noctis; for finally giving him the chance to know what it feels like to have something more than an acquaintance. Far from him to be ungrateful, he adds Ignis and Gladio to that list as well, and a footnote for Iris as a possible little sister he never had.

All in all, it’s a good day, and Prompto hopes that many more follow.

x

Clarus gives them a call on the following weekend, inviting them for dinner and riling them up for a game night. They head to the Amicitia house and joke around while playing cards — and their surprise quickly turns to teasing when Noctis wins most of the rounds.

Things quiet down as the night progresses. They're all around the coffee table still, though some are on the couches and others, on the floor. Prompto smiles at the sight of Iris slumped against her father, having clearly tired herself out.

“She was having an adventure around the house with her plushies, before you arrived,” Clarus explains, patting her head. “There were lots of screaming and sword fights.”

“She’s a good kid,” Noctis chimes in. “How is she doing?”

“Has had some nightmares. Asked to sleep on my bed the day before yesterday. I’ve been keeping a few lights on, but she’s still in the phase where she has a very active imagination. I can see that she’s doing her best to push it aside, though,” Clarus responds with a slight frown.

Prompto definitely understands the active imagination part, but prefers to stay silent. To distract himself, he reaches for another cookie from the almost-empty plate that's lying on the low table, marvelling once again at Ignis’ baking prowess.

“And hey, I’ve been thinking,” Clarus starts, glancing back at Noctis. “There’s a few things we’re gonna have to do, now that you’re a human again. Like getting some documents, for example.”

“Now that’s going to be a hassle,” Gladio mutters.

“It certainly won’t be easy,” Ignis says next. “It’s not like we can simply go to a registry and tell them the truth about the situation.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking about. We’re going to need a cover-up story to make it work. Something that could explain the lack of even a birth certificate,” Clarus says, pensive.

“Can’t we say that he’s, I don’t know, from an isolated community somewhere that wasn’t super keen on keeping documents?” Prompto shrugs.

“But then why would he be here now?” Gladio asks.

“We could say that Clarus had been a friend of my parents, and that after their death he accepted to take me in,” Noctis suggests.

“I think it could work,” Ignis nods. “The workers wouldn’t be too happy about it due to the lack of proof, but the total inexistence of documents means they don’t have evidence to poke holes at the explanation.”

“Can’t call us on our bullshit without something to back it up, yeah,” Prompto agrees.

“How old were you when you were cursed, Noctis?” Clarus asks.

“Sixteen.”

Clarus hums. “They might bitch about you being a minor, but we’ll just have to figure something out in case they do.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Noctis smiles.

x

A few days later, Noctis wakes up in the middle of the night. He spends a moment staring at the ceiling, wondering what ripped him from sweet sleep’s embrace.

It doesn’t take long for the answer to reach him, in the form of a whimper coming from Prompto’s room. The house gets almost eerily quiet at night, and Prompto had gotten used to keeping his bedroom door open when kitty Noctis was around, so the sound travels through the empty house with ease.

Noctis disentangles his limbs from the blanket and walks to the bedroom with soft steps. One of Prompto’s hand is fisting the sheets, and the moonlight entering through the window highlights the sweat beading on his skin as he trashes about in infrequent intervals.

“Prom,” Noctis calls, not too loudly, getting closer to the bed. “Prompto, wake up,” he says, kneeling on the floor, but refraining from touching the other. “Prompto,” he calls again.

Prompto wakes up with a start, sitting up on the bed and looking around wild-eyed, gasping for breath. “Noct?” he whispers when their eyes meet.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he soothes, and keeps going when it looks like Prompto is about to start crying. “You’re alright, you’re safe- we’re all safe, okay? It was a nightmare.”

Noctis offers a hand and Prompto holds it tightly, almost as if it is his only way of staying sane. Noctis continues to whisper whatever comforting nonsense comes to mind until the boy’s breathing slows down to something closer to normal.

“Do you want me to get you some water or anything?”

Prompto shakes his head vehemently. “Please don’t go,” he pleads.

“I won’t be going anywhere, alright?” Noctis says, moving to sit on the bed and opening his arms in clear invitation. Prompto does not hesitate to take it, nearly throwing himself into the embrace.

Noctis rubs circles on his back and sways gently, eventually lifting a hand to play with the soft blond hairs at Prompto’s nape. It takes a good while for the boy to truly relax and longer still for him to draw back.

Prompto rubs his own eyes and opens his mouth to speak, but Noctis cuts him off.

“I know what you’re going to say. There’s no need for you to be sorry,” he says, voice firm, accepting no arguments.

Prompto looks appropriately chastised, fiddling with his blanket. It’s obvious that there’s still something he wants to say, however, so Noctis stays put.

“I... “ Prompto trails off, scratching the back of his head. “Could you… sleep here for the night?” he asks at last, voice getting fainter with every word until it’s barely a whisper.

There’s a very brief moment in which the long-forgotten, noble-mannered part of him hesitates, claiming that it isn’t proper to share a bed with someone that isn’t family or your spouse, but it is quickly shoved away. The times have changed, Noctis reminds it. Moreover, he holds his friends in too high a regard to deny them assistance -- especially in a matter such as this.

“Sure,” is what he says after the moment passes. Prompto scoots closer to the wall, making space for Noctis to lie down.

He accepts Prompto’s weight at his side graciously, curling an arm around the boy’s back as he makes a pillow out of Noctis’ shoulder. He feels the other take a deep, calming breath and then melt into the contact.

“Thank you,” Prompto whispers.

Noctis breathes in the scent of Prompto’s shampoo -- quietly mourning the loss of his sharper feline senses -- and closes his eyes.

“Anytime,” he whispers back, right before sleep reclaims them both.

Chapter Text

Around two weeks later, Prompto gets home from school earlier than expected and finds Noctis cleaning the living room. He has to contain the urge to laugh as Noctis stares wide-eyed at him, wearing a perfect deer caught in the headlights look.

“Uh,” Noctis tries, looking down at the supplies near his feet for a moment before lifting his eyes to Prompto again. “I… did some searching around the internet, but I have no idea if I’m doing this right,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

A giggle manages to worm past Prompto’s restraint, and he has to bite his lower lip to stop more from joining the first. “I’m sure you’re trying your best, and that’s what matters. We’ll just have to fix it later, if that’s the case.”

“Right,” Noctis nods once, firmly.

Prompto smiles. “I’m not mad or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking- just curious.”

Noctis frowns, clearly trying to find the words to explain it. After a few seconds, he shrugs. “I was bored. There’s only so many episodes I can watch, or games I can play, before I get tired of it, so… cleaning it is, I guess.”

Cute, but also kinda heartbreaking, Prompto thinks. A brief wave of now-familiar guilt washes through him, making him lament the fact that he must attend school and thus leave the other alone for hours over hours.

“Thank you,” Prompto smiles. “You didn’t have to do it.”

“I know, but-” he trails off, and for a moment Prompto has the feeling that Noctis will bring up the sleepless nights and the nightmares he has when he does manage to fall asleep; Prompto can almost see it build in his eyes, on the set of his mouth, on his tensing shoulders -- but it all goes away with Noctis’ next exhale. “I want to help.”

Affection bubbles up inside Prompto's chest and widens his smile. “And that’s why I thanked you. I appreciate it, really.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Noctis shrugs with one shoulder. “You’re just letting me live here, in exchange of absolutely nothing.”

“As if I could just kick you out after all that’s happened and the three years we’ve known each other!” Prompto feigns affront.

“You’ve only known me as a human for three weeks,” Noctis argues, but it's clear that he's resisting the urge to snicker at Prompto's exaggerated expressions.

“You were still you as a cat, just on a different body. Plus, you do give me something, being here: company.”

Noctis’ expression saddens and Prompto remembers that other people usually don’t have parents that just leave them for literal years on an empty house; remembers that Noctis has been around on and off for a fair amount of time and has never even seen said parents.

“Ah, sorry for bringing that up…” he says, fiddling with the simple metal ring he likes to wear on his thumb.

“Don’t be,” Noctis shakes his head. “If company is what you wish for, I’ll gladly give it.”

“That’s good enough for me, yeah.”

“Good,” Noctis says, lips curling into a fond little smile. “Anything you want to do today?”

“Ah, that reminds me! Mr. Amicitia invited us over for dinner again. Said that we gotta commemorate Iris getting good grades on a recent test, but I talked with Gladio and he told me that Iris always gets good grades,” Prompto rambles, narrowing his eyes at the end.

“How much do you wanna bet that he’ll be texting you soon to know if we’re already on our way?”

Prompto gives him a deadpan stare. “I’m not gonna enter a bet I’ll clearly lose.”

“Better get ready, then,” Noctis grins.

“Yeah, yeah,” Prompto sighs, half-dragging his backpack behind him while Noctis snickers at his expense.

x

Gladio is the one to open the door to them.

“Have you found a solution to this goddamn tattoo yet?” he asks with a single arched eyebrow and crossed arms.

Prompto grimaces, lifting a hand to scratch at his nape. “Well… kinda?”

Gladio narrows his eyes and starts tapping his foot. Prompto’s eyes are drawn to the building muscles on his arms, and he’d take a step back if Noctis wasn’t in the way.

“Three weeks and all you have if a ‘kind of’?”

“It’s just, I put too much weight on the curse for it to be easy to break, but! I found a way to mute it!” Prompto grins, feeling a little proud of himself.

“Mute it,” Gladio parrots, expression still impassive.

“Yeah!”

“So you give me a huge-ass, squeaking tattoo that I didn’t want, and all you can do is mute it.”

“Well I did say I’d curse whoever lit that candle with a big bird tattoo, and you went there and did it anyway. Not my fault you didn’t believe I was capable of doing it- I had to keep my word,” Prompto shrugs, sharing a grin with Noctis.

“How was I supposed to know you had actual magic??”

Prompto ignores him. “Plus, as far as tattoos go, at least it’s a good, pretty one, yeah? It looks cool, and you didn’t have to experience all the pain and soreness and itchiness that comes with doing one, especially one of that size.”

Gladio continues to stare with pursed lips, but Prompto only grins, refusing to regret it.

“Get out of my sight, you little punk,” the other says at least, opening the door wider and rolling his eyes when Prompto drags Noctis inside, both of them stifling giggles.

They find Clarus and Iris in the living room, with the girl putting the finishing touches on her work on the man’s nails. It’s obvious that Iris has done her best as they are painted in a deep red hue -- Prompto can only see two or three mistakes in both hands, and though the cleaning was a bit sloppy, a good shower would wash away all of the nail polish clinging to the skin itself.

She glows at the praise they all give her, hugging Prompto’s legs tightly before repeating the same motions with Noctis, who pats her head fondly.

“Wait until you see her work on Gladio’s hair,” Clarus says as Iris scoops up her supplies.

“Gladdy is the only one with long hair around here. Why can’t you have long hair too?” she pouts.

“Sorry Iris, but I like my hair the way it is,” Prompto grins.

“Resembling a chocobo butt, you mean?” Noctis teases.

“Hey! You’re one to talk- can you even see anything, with bangs that long??”

“I can see just fine,” Noctis shrugs, and Prompto scoffs.

“You can help yourselves to the sodas in the fridge, boys. We’re going to order some pizzas later on for dinner,” Clarus says, waving a hand in the direction of the kitchen.

“Pizza is the best,” Iris beams, eyes almost sparkling.

“Can’t argue with you there, buddy,” Prompto agrees.

Ignis arrives not long after, cradling a tupperware filled with baked goods. Prompto’s mouth waters at the sight, and he sees Noctis staring at it unwaveringly from the corner of his eye.

There has been a sudden influx of all kinds of pastries from the bespectacled man in recent weeks, and the change is substantial enough for Prompto to question if Ignis is dealing with the aftermath of their experience as well as he appears to.

He’s hesitant to pry, however, since he’d feel like an hypocrite; though Noctis all but broadcasts his willingness to listen and to provide support, Prompto has yet to take him up on his offer, not wanting to burden the other with the horrifying images his unconscious comes up with.

They fill their bellies with Ignis’ cookies while waiting for it to get late enough for dinner, setting the emotional baggage aside for a moment to be able to enjoy the gathering freely. Prompto thinks he could get used to it -- to being part of a group, to feeling like he belongs somewhere.

“Hey, Prom? I’ve been thinking about a thing,” Noctis says later that night, while the others focus on the TV.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I’ve been looking at some videos on the internet about school stuff like math, history, physics and the like, and… I have nothing to do at home, so I was thinking that I could try to learn enough to go to school with you guys next year?”

Everyone falls silent. Prompto cringes when he realizes that they had all been paying attention, like the eavesdroppers they are.

“Why would you want to go to that hell? I would give a piece of my soul to get out,” Gladio says, sounding genuinely incredulous.

Noctis’ cheeks become pink. “I just want to be around you guys,” he mumbles, turning defensive in response to the shock displayed by the others.

“It… would take a lot of work, wouldn’t it?” Clarus frowns, scratching his chin.

“Indeed it would. The paperwork required for it would be extensive, especially since he has nothing to prove previous education,” Ignis muses.

“And even if he did, they’d all be three hundred years old,” Gladio points out.

“Most of the subjects we study didn’t even properly exist back then,” Ignis adds.

Prompto sees Noctis deflate with every word, hunching in on himself, and feels the need to do something.

“Guys!” he exclaims, successfully getting the attention of all the others. “D- don’t be like that, yeah? If this is what he wants, we should try to find a way!”

“What do you have in mind, then?” Ignis asks.

“A-ah, well… Maybe we could say he was homeschooled?”

“There are records kept for that, to guarantee that the student is meeting the qualifications every year, plus state exams and the like,” Ignis explains.

“But couldn’t he do, I don’t know, some of those competency tests, to prove that he knows the material?”

“Does he?” Ignis presses. “Don’t misunderstand my motives -- I don’t mean to say that it’s impossible or that Noctis can’t do it, but you have to understand that it’s not that simple. Even though he has been around for all these years, there was no way for him to learn what we have in the curriculum, unless he spent a few years sneaking into classrooms for fun, that is.”

“But- we can try, right? We could help him,” Prompto insists, trying not to pout.

“We’d be asking for him to learn in a year what we learn in over a decade,” Ignis says, not unkindly, and then turns to Noctis. “Do you think that is something you would be able to achieve?”

“I want to do it,” Noctis replies, still frowning. “I’ll just have to do my best,” he shrugs.

“Alright then. If that’s what you truly wish, I’ll help you with the materials and the like. But I warn you now that I will not allow you to slack off,” Ignis cautions with narrowed eyes.

“Yes sir,” Noctis smiles.

x

True to his word, Ignis drops by Prompto’s the following day to give Noctis a few of the textbooks he had kept and advice on how to go about using them.

“It’s good that you have no problems with turning to videos on the internet for learning, but we’re going to research them a little to see if they have good, reliable sources. Feel free to let me know if you have any trouble with a given subject, and I’ll do my best to look into it and then explain it to you. I’m certain Prompto wouldn’t mind helping, as well -- I suggest you take advantage of his math knowledge, as it can be hard to grasp from theory alone.”

Noctis looks up from perusing the textbooks to meet Ignis’ eyes. “Got it. But, won’t it be a bit heavy for you? You still have your own classes to worry about, right?”

“No need to worry about that. I am good at managing my time.”

“Alright then,” Noctis says, unable to keep the doubt from coloring his voice. The other simply pushes his glasses up his nose.

“I’ve marked where you should begin and can provide a progression list, if necessary. If I message Prompto, will you be able to respond?”

“Yeah, probably. We’re pretty much always at the same place anyway, so shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I must admit it’s jarring to remember you don’t have a phone of your own, even though I know the reason,” Ignis confesses, smiling faintly.

“I can imagine. When everyone has one, must be difficult to process that I don’t.”

“Quite,” Ignis nods. ”Well, I should get going; Gladio and I promised to take Iris to the new ice cream shop this afternoon.”

“That’s kind of a weird date, isn’t it? Not that I know too much about it,” Noctis snorts, “but you guys usually take Iris, yeah?”

“We do, yes. I…” he pauses, seemingly to consider his next words. “I think he feels… guilty, perhaps, for what she -- all of us, really, but her most of all, being his little sister -- had to endure that night. He wants to make up for it, most likely. I sincerely do not mind,” Ignis shrugs, almost gracefully. “It’s nice to have her around. Makes for some entertaining situations,” he smiles fondly.

“I’m glad to hear that. But you should take care of yourself as well, alright?” Noctis stresses, his tone a touch more serious.

Ignis looks dazed for a second, but eventually nods. “I’ll do my best,” he concedes.

“That’s all one can ask,” Noctis grins. “Want me to accompany you the door?”

“No need. Oh, and before I go -- Prompto asked me to tell you that he got caught up with something at school, though he wouldn’t tell me what, and that he’ll bring food with him.”

Noctis purses his lips in thought, but quickly pushes it aside, marking it for later. “Thanks. Have fun in your date,” he smirks, snickering when Ignis rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“Have fun with your studies,” the other smirks back, pointing at the textbooks.

“Yeah, yeah.”

x

Prompto has a growing love-hate relationship with the ceiling of his bedroom. In one hand, to be staring at it means that he is not asleep; on the other, it becomes a very interesting thing to study when he’s trying to keep the nightmares and the bad memories at bay.

His mind drifts to hours earlier, when a teacher had kept him after-hours to talk with him about the reason for his nearly constant sleeping in class recently. He had been touched that she had shown concern instead of berating him like most of the other teachers had done -- but on the flipside, it meant that he had to evade her well-meaning questions until she frowned at him one last time and let him go home.

He shifts in bed and Noctis shifts with him. The other is a warm, comforting weight at his side, with half of his head on Prompto’s shoulder and the other half on their shared pillow. His soft and regular puffs of breath are soothing, somewhere around Prompto’s collarbone, and the arm draped over Prompto’s waist manages to feel like safety instead of containment.

Prompto tilts his head down, but the only thing he can see is black strands of hair and a hint of the other’s jaw. It fills him with a giddy sort of wonder -- how fast they got used to sleeping in the same bed. Near the end of the first week, Noctis didn’t even wait for Prompto to ask him to stay; he just slid under the covers as soon as Prompto showed signs of being awake, never protesting to the arms that held him like a lifeline.

And then there’s the fact that he always knows when Prompto wakes up in the middle of the night -- or when he gives up on trying to fall asleep, as has been the case more recently. No matter how quiet he tries to be, it never takes long before Noctis follows, although he’s usually somewhere around seventy percent asleep still.

Although he knows all of this, Prompto decides to take his chances anyway, carefully disentangling their limbs and shifting until he is able to watch the other’s reactions. Noctis frowns and clings harder for a beat or two, but his eyes stay closed, so Prompto slips out of bed and heads to the kitchen as planned.

Making and drinking a cup of hot chocolate is becoming something like a tradition in those chilly, sleepless nights, so that’s what he does. He counts less than three minutes before Noctis’ voice sounds from the bedroom.

“Prompto?”

“In the kitchen,” he replies, not bothering to contain the petulant pout when Noctis shuffles like a zombie into the doorway.

“Are you making cocoa? I want some too,” Noctis says, letting out a jaw-popping yawn.

“Why don’t you stay in bed?”

“Why should I? I know you’re awake.”

“‘Cause you need your sleep too, silly.”

Noctis only shrugs in response.

“Fine,” Prompto huffs. “You can go sit on the sofa, I’ll bring it to you.”

“‘Kay.”

Noctis slumps against him as soon as Prompto sits at his side, taking the mug with a quiet word of thanks and blowing on it gently. Prompto stares at a corner of the wall, absolutely unseeing, until he hears the sound of pages and turns his head to find Noctis looking over one of the notebooks Ignis had dropped off.

“Oh no you don’t,” he says, taking it from the other’s hands and setting it back on the coffee table. “It’s way too late for this, you’re not even really awake! You’re not touching one of those,” Prompto chides.

“Put on a movie, then.”

Prompto huffs again. “You’re impossible.”

“Big Hero 6, maybe. I like that one.”

“No.”

“No to putting on a movie in general or no to Big Hero 6?”

“The first one.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause then we’ll end up falling asleep on the sofa again, Noct.”

“Well, then just connect your laptop to the TV or do that kinda sharing screen thing with your phone for us to watch it in bed,” Noctis frowns.

Prompto pouts again.

Noctis sets down the mug and laces his arms around Prompto’s waist. It serves to remind him how easily affectionable he had been as a cat, and a smile curls Prompto’s lips against his will.

“You win, dork. Big Hero 6 it is. But let’s finish our drinks first, okay?”

Noctis hums in agreement as they take slow sips, savouring the sweetness until both mugs are empty. Prompto leaves them at the sink and pulls Noctis to his feet, both of them quick to entangle their limbs again as the movie begins.

Prompto doesn’t even notice himself surrendering to sleep.

x

Later that day, Gladio jostles him until he awakens, blinking blearly at the emptying classroom surrounding them.

“Is it break time already?” Prompto asks, voice rough. He smacks his tongue to the roof of his mouth a couple time and tries to swallow the bad aftertaste that always comes with a nap.

“Yeah. C’mon, get up, we gotta get going to our spot. Also, I have something to give you,” Gladio says, haphazardly shoving Prompto’s pens and notebooks inside his backpack as said boy attempts to do as instructed.

“What something?”

“A little thing from Dad. Ignis is already waiting, sleepyhead, get moving,” Gladio rolls his eyes, clearly deflecting.

Prompto frowns but accepts the backpack and follows Gladio, focusing on the other’s feet as his mind scrambles to present itself as adequately awake. He squints at the brightness of the outdoors once they pass through one of the school’s entrances, and is only able to stop doing so once they arrive to the thankfully shaded spot they have claimed as their own.

Ignis has his faithful pastry-filled tupperware already set on the grass at his side. He greets Prompto with a slight smile, watching as the boy all but collapses on the ground.

“Still having a hard time falling asleep?” he asks -- inquisitive, but not quite probing.

“Yeah,” Prompto replies, running a hand through his hair before rubbing his face vigorously. “I think I got maybe two hours of sleep, and that’s only cause Noctis insisted on putting on a movie.”

Ignis nods, mouth set on a thin line. He doesn’t try to offer any advice or platitudes; the exhaustion that creates dark bags under his eyes and turns his usual gracefulness into sluggishness is evidence enough of his first-hand experience with the same troubles that are plaguing Prompto.

Prompto turns to Gladio -- who is fishing through his own bag -- and remembers that he has yet to perform the muting spell for the tattoo.

“Hey, Gladio, do you want me to mute the bird now or later?”

Gladio looks at him with clear skepticism, giving him a once over that has Prompto bristling before he even opens his mouth.

“Are you even awake yet? I don’t want you to make it worse just ‘cause you couldn’t remember how to do it right or something,” he snarks.

Prompto scoffs. “I’m not gonna get it wrong.”

“You sure? It’s not like you’ve been inspiring a lotta trust in your abilities,” Gladio smirks.

“I told you, I’m in training! I’m getting there! And I’m not going to mess up this simple spell,” Prompto sulks.

“Alright, alright, no need to get pouty. What do I gotta do?”

“Just stand still.”

Prompto closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing the magic that always floats serenely somewhere inside his chest to flow into his arms then down to his fingertips, so it can do as he bids. His magic had always been more about feelings and intent than flowing rhymes such as the ones that the Sanderson brothers’ kept sprouting.

It had the downside of being a tad unpredictable, especially in the first few years of training, which was the reason for the strength of the tattoo’s curse in the first place; Prompto had been so furious at the time that the spell came off way more powerful than what he’d be able to cast in normal circumstances.

Prompto seriously does not wish to know if the part of it being passed down onto Gladio’s kids would hold true. Luckily, they'll probably never get the chance to find out -- one look is all that it takes to see that Gladio is absolutely smitten with Ignis, so the chance of him having biological children diminishes considerably.

He steps back two seconds after he feels the tell-tale tingle that comes with casting a spell. “Done,” he says with a firm nod.

Gladio studies him for a moment and then looks around to see if anyone is around before shoving a hand under his own shirt to carefully rip off the duct tape over the bird’s beak. Prompto winces in sympathy and waits expectantly even though he’s sure he did it right.

He sighs in relief when the air around them stays silent following the removal, mustering up the energy for a cocky grin. “Told you,” he sing-songs.

“Yeah, yeah. Be glad that it worked,” Gladio smirks.

“Oh, just admit it, I’m amazing.”

Gladio outright laughs at that. “Yeah, right. Dream on, blondie.”

“Careful, Gladio. Wouldn’t want to piss off someone who has already proven to have no issues with turning their threats into reality,” Ignis butts in, smiling at them both.

“Pfft,” Gladio laughs again.

They sit and start eating while talking about the day’s classes so far. Break is almost ending by the time Prompto remembers that Gladio had mentioned something he had to give him.

“Hey, what is the thing that your Dad wants to give me?” he asks out of the blue, accidentally interrupting Ignis mid-sentence.

“Oh right, hold on,” Gladio says, turning to take something from his bag. “Here,” he says, presenting a phone.

Prompto stares at it in absolute shock for a heartbeat or two. “What?? ”

“This is his old phone,” Gladio explains. “He said something about a new model catching his eye -- which is total bullshit, cause Dad only changes phones when there’s no other option -- and so he bought it and told me to give you this, for Noctis.”

Prompto continues to gape at it for another moment before recomposing himself and shaking his head. “I can’t accept it,” he says. “It’s-” he stops, taking a better look at the phone- “not even a year old! It’s still in mint condition!”

“He said no take-backs,” Gladio shrugs.

“Take it, Prompto,” Ignis encourages. “You’ve been worrying yourself sick with not being able to communicate with Noctis while you’re here at school. This is the solution,” he adds.

“But it’s such an expensive model!” Prompto protests. “He’s been doing all these nice things; inviting us for dinner all the time, asking if we have everything we need and even offering to pay for some clothes for Noctis!”

“He likes you,” Gladio shrugs again, rolling his eyes as well this time around. “Likes Noctis, too. We’ve also been looking at a spare mattress to leave lying around for the two of you, just like he said we would. Just accept that you’re now categorized as family and move on, blondie.”

Prompto continues to flail silently, unable to come to terms with Clarus’ sustained niceness. The bone-deep exhaustion borne from continued sleep deprivation makes it so that tears start to gather at his eyes even as he tries to will them away.

Ignis’ little smile becomes wider and fonder, and he takes the phone from Gladio’s hand to deposit it in both of Prompto’s, gently curling his fingers in to make the grip more secure.

“It’s alright to feel overwhelmed. Just take a few deep breaths and thank him the next time you see him,” he suggests, drawing Prompto’s focus as the boy does as he’s been told.

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles once he’s calm again, remembering how glad he is to have been Ignis’ friend for the past three years.

Gladio ruffles his hair mercilessly, ignoring Prompto’s indignant screams.

“No worries. Dad’s just like that, to be honest. I was telling the truth -- you might as well be family now. He has basically adopted you and Noctis at this point, so the most you can do now is just roll with it.”

“I guess I’ll try,” Prompto frowns, looking down at the phone while biting his lower lip.

“That’s the spirit,” Gladio grins, giving him a resounding -- but thankfully not painful -- pat on the back. “Now we better get going, bell’s gonna ring again soon.”

They collect their stuff and start their way back, conversation moving back to lighter topics. Prompto briefly marvels at becoming part of yet another family, lowering his head to hide the little smile that springs unbidden as his heart warm at the prospect.

Chapter Text

Noctis jerks awake at the sound of a scream.

He has no idea of what time it is, and doesn't care enough to check the clock in his cool new phone -- which he only snatches from the coffee table as an afterthought. The silence that follows the scream is unnerving, and said feeling is only exacerbated by the darkness that fills every room and corridor.

Noctis pauses by the doorway to softly call out Prompto’s name, proceeding only when the other turns to look at him. He always takes great care to announce his presence before getting closer, unwilling to assume that his approach had been heard and end up startling his friend. Noctis knows quite well how unpleasant that is.

He accepts Prompto’s embrace with the ease of routine, whispering reassurances into his temple and rubbing circles on his back, ready to do so for as long as the other needs. Ruefully, Noctis wonders why he even bothers with the sofa at this point; he always ends up on Prompto's bed sooner or later, and stays there until morning. Some nights the reallocation is due to a nightmare; on others, it happens as a way of making sure the boy stays still long enough to sleep, when insomnia sinks its claws deep and refuses to let go.

Prompto holds tight as Noctis rearranges them in bed, struggling to find a position comfortable enough for the both of them. It pains him to see his friend in such a state, getting three hours of restful sleep per night in lucky days and still having to keep moving forward as if nothing was wrong. Noctis is thankful for the fact that it’s finally Saturday -- it means that Prompto can sleep in for once, without having to concern himself with how much time he has before the alarm goes off.

Noctis hates how powerless he feels in the face of his friend’s suffering; hates remembering that the only thing he can do is stand close and provide comfort and support when the need for it arises.

He absolutely detests that it’s been three hundred years, and yet that’s still all he is able to do.

Oh, how it had hurt to watch his father’s health deteriorate and be unable to ease his pain; to have no way of providing reassurance, when the loss of his only son salted the old wounds caused by Aulea’s premature passing. Noctis had tried to steer clear of his childhood home during the first handful of months, too scared of what he would find if he returned. Instead, he wandered through the streets of Salem, jumping at every shadow and hissing at every sound, eating whatever food he came across -- no matter how disgusting -- in order not to starve.

But the homesickness was too much to bear, and so he went back -- snuck into the estate in the same way he had snuck out as a child when he had wanted to play in the gardens. He endeared himself to the staff and slept in unused rooms, buying time until he managed to find the courage to see Regis again.

His father had already turned into a mere shadow of his old self by then, doing his best to carry on with the heavy weight of grief -- the weight of being the last living Lucis Caelum -- that had made a home for itself atop his shoulders. Noctis had curled up next to Regis at night, wishing he could turn back into a human by sheer force of will and dispel that cloud of sadness that followed his father as faithfully as the man’s shadow.

With considerable effort, Noctis pushes those memories back into the little alcove they have carved out for themselves in his mind. The past cannot be changed, but the future is still uncertain -- he must do better this time, for Prompto.

It is with that mindset that he brings his awareness back to the present, to the warm body of his friend above his own. Prompto’s head rests to the right of his sternum, rising and falling with every breath Noctis takes. Prompto is fully calm by now, wide awake and probably not going back to sleep anytime soon.

Noctis lifts a hand to play with the pale gold strands, with an idea starting to take form in his head. He frowns and opens his mouth a few times, wanting to vocalize it but finding it still too hazy and shapeless to be coherent. He turns his eyes to the ceiling, ruffling through his memory to see if he can find anything to help, but comes up empty.

“Prom?”

Prompto only hums in response, inquisitive. He has been drawing patterns on Noctis’ ribcage for some time, and if the touch became just a smidge lighter, it’d tickle.

Noctis’ frown deepens. He’s rarely good with words, especially when it matters, but he wants to help.

“I…” he starts, stops, and looks to the ceiling again in search of some sort of answer. Prompto says nothing, most likely aware by now that there are moments in which Noctis needs time to gather his thoughts.

Eventually, Noctis tires of mentally flailing for words and goes for honesty.

“You know I care about you, right?” he asks, with determination coloring his voice. His arms encircle Prompto’s waist, giving a light squeeze that serves both as a way of comforting the other and as a sign of his affection

Prompto stays silent for a beat, then sighs. “Yeah.”

“And that means I worry. Means I want to see you happy and healthy. And I know that maybe it’s a bit… pointless? Stupid? To want you to be okay after what happened, but… I worry.”

Prompto sighs again and snuggles closer. Tilting his head to the left allows Noctis to see that the other has closed his eyes, but his silence is an incentive to go on.

“I wish there was something I could do to help,” Noctis scowls at a section of the wall, with frustration filling up his chest. He’s just about to continue when Prompto interrupts him.

“You do help,” he affirms, meeting Noctis’ eyes and leaving no room for argument. His chin digs in uncomfortably on Noctis’ ribs, even though he doesn’t lay his true weight on the point of contact. “I don’t know how things would be like if I didn’t have you here with me,” he whispers.

“Still, I-” Noctis stops, purses his lips and casts his gaze around the room. “I wish I could do more,” he confesses.

“You already do plenty,” Prompto shakes his head, resolute.

Noctis frowns, almost pouts. They are clearly at an impasse: Prompto refuses to let Noctis hold onto his feelings of inadequacy, but Noctis’ brain is prepared to fight tooth and nail for it.

Sensing that this approach will not bear fruit, Noctis steers them away. “I know that it’s not easy, or simple -- getting over something like that, I mean -- but… can’t we do something? Is there anyone we could see, or anything we could try? I don’t want to just… wait for it to pass. You’re getting so little sleep…”

Prompto sighs and moves his head into its previous position. “Technically, there are. Psychologists and therapists are supposed to help people overcome such things, but it’s not like we can just make an appointment and tell them the truth.”

Noctis makes a vague sound of frustration.

“And if we decided to do just that for some reason, they’d be seriously worried for our sanity, which isn’t what we’re trying to get at here.”

“But is there really no one we can turn to? There has to be someone who works with that and is also aware of magic, right?”

Prompto’s head snaps up at the words. Noctis can nearly see the gears inside his head turning.

“You know what,” he says, tapping his lower lip. “You’ve got the right idea, Noct.”

With that, he rolls off of Noctis and reaches for the laptop on the nightstand. Noctis shoves down the urge to whine at him to come back, already missing the warmth; instead, he sits up and scoots over to where Prompto is biting the corner of his thumb, waiting for the device to turn on.

“Do you know someone?” Noctis asks, tentative.

“No, but you’re right. There’s gotta be someone, the world is too big not to. We just gotta find them.”

“How?”

“There are whole forums and groups, pretty secretive and firmly controlled, for us magic users, or for people who just know it exists. Sometimes it’s best to get advice from people who have actually tried a specific spell, instead of just blindly trusting whatever reading materials you have.”

“Makes sense.”

“And there’s usually a section for finding specific people, you know? Like a doctor that can take care of a magic-induced wound, or a landlord that wouldn’t mind having a witch or a werewolf as a tenant, that kinda thing.”

“Or a therapist that deals with magic-related traumas,” Noctis says, following the trail of thought.

“Exactly,” Prompto grins.

Noctis smiles, happy to have helped Prompto figure something out.

“Of course, we probably won’t find someone right away. And there’s the possibility of them not being from Salem, obviously, but we could probably do something like video calls in that case…”

“Right.”

“I’ll leave a message on some forums and check it tomorrow,” Prompto mutters distractedly, already typing.

Noctis leaves him to it, taking his new phone and thumbing the lock button to turn the screen on. Even though he has been messing around with Prompto’s for a few weeks already, it’s still weird to have one all for himself. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it; the others had added him to their group chat and Noctis had installed some games that had caught his eye, but that’s it. He opens one to pass the time, distracting himself with the repetitive tapping.

He looks up when Prompto closes the laptop and sets it back on it’s customary spot, letting out a little sigh of relief. “Done?” Noctis asks.

“Yeah,” Prompto smiles. “It feels good to do something, you know? Like a step in the right direction.”

“I’m glad,” Noctis says. “I hope someone gets back to you soon.”

“I hope so, too.”

“Are you gonna tell Ignis and Gladio?”

Prompto pauses for a moment, seemingly not having thought of that before. “Not yet, I think,” he tries. “I can see that they’re… not quite okay as well, but I don’t want to, I don’t know, give them false hope if we end up not finding someone.”

“Alright,” Noctis nods. He yawns not even two seconds later, and blinks blearily on the aftermath.

“We better go back to trying to fall asleep, yeah?” Prompto snickers.

“That’d be nice.”

They have a brief scuffle to decide who is going to be cuddled by whom, and end up with their previous positions reversed: Prompto on his back, with Noctis curling up against him. Noctis stares silently at the TV for a beat, willing it to turn on with the power of his mind.

Prompto outright laughs after a couple minutes. “Alright, Noct, I know you want to put on something for us to watch. What’s your pick?”

“Star Trek Beyond?” Noctis mutters, hopeful.

“Star Trek it is. Here, I’ll show you how to connect your phone to the TV,” he says, taking Noctis’ phone from its place below the pillows and presenting it to its owner. “First, you open this app…”

x

They wake up minutes before midday. It’s a true struggle to untangle their limbs, and Prompto falls to the floor on his butt while attempting to do so, scowling when Noctis laughs at him.

They have lunch and start up the week’s laundry, talking freely about whatever comes to mind -- the new spell Prompto is trying to master; an anime they had begun watching the week before; Noctis’ progress on his studies; and what feels like uncountable other little things.

“Hey Noct,” Prompto says hours later, drawing Noctis’ attention away from the textbook he had been reading. “You should check the group chat.”

“Okay.”

There’s a handful of new messages from Gladio, and Noctis taps on the chat to see what they say.

Gladio: hey guys, dad is inviting yall over for thanksgiving

Gladio: says we could start making food on tuesday night or wednesday, work towards a food coma

Gladio: any of you in?

Noctis turns to look at Prompto, who shrugs.

“It’d be nice. It’s not like we’d do anything for it otherwise,” his friend says. “Do you wanna go?”

“Sure, could be fun.”

“Alrighty.”

Prompto: food coma? we’re in! (*＾∀ﾟ)ъ

Gladio: nice

Gladio: he says you could sleep over the entire week, if you wanna

Gladio: @Ignis are you going to spend it with your family?

Prompto: his uncle is british, so probably not

Gladio: also, @Noctis still having prompto speak for you i see

Noctis: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Noctis: not like our answers would be divergent

Prompto: we’re pretty much a package deal ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Gladio: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prompto: oh shut your mouth

Ignis: Prompto is right. My uncle finds the whole holiday rather pointless, so I’m sure there’d be no trouble with me spending it with the rest of you.

Gladio: nice

Prompto: and look at the even better side: iggy’s presence means we’re gonna have his pies and cookies and pastries and (✽´ཫ`✽)

Noctis: mmm, ignis’ cookies....

Ignis: I shall strive to not disappoint.

Prompto: your baking would never disappoint

Noctis: agreed

Gladio: agreed

Ignis: Well then, if you say so.

Ignis: I’d like to go on Tuesday night, if that’s alright.

Gladio: sure thing.

Prompto: we could go a little after school, right Noct?

Noctis: yeah

Gladio: everything’s set then. will be nice to have yall 👍

“I’m probably gonna have to be rolled out of their house on Saturday,” Prompto remarks with a chuckle.

“I don’t know who’s gonna be pushing you, ‘cause I’m betting I’ll be on the same state.”

“Ah, well, we’ll just have to stay there until we deflate, I guess.”

Both dissolve into laughter, already imagining the possible scenarios.

“It’s gonna be fun,” Noctis says when the leftover giggling ceases.

“Yeah, it will. We’ve been in sore need of that, lately.”

“We’ll get there eventually,” Noctis says with a small, warm smile.

“Yes we will,” Prompto sighs wistfully.

x

They spend most of Sunday and Monday discussing what to make and which ingredients they’ll need. Clarus takes them all grocery shopping on Tuesday afternoon -- it doesn’t take long for things to dissolve into chaos, which surprises exactly no one.

Ignis and Clarus do most of the serious shopping as the other three boys try to decide which candy is the best candy and make a general ruckus, garnering stinky eyes from many of the other patrons with their loud laughter and occasional curse words. Iris boomerangs between the two groups, obviously uncertain if she wants to stay with her dad or be where the fun is.

At the end, Clarus pays for all of it, completely ignoring the protests of both Ignis and Prompto. Making the shopping bags fit into the trunk puts skills born from hours of Tetris -- and organizing their Resident Evil 2 inventory, as Gladio claims -- to the ultimate test, but it all works out in the end.

Clarus makes pancakes for dinner, and after the dishes are washed and put away, they start a preview of what’s to come. Ignis makes a plain cake with chocolate frosting and a few batches of chocolate chip cookies, warning them that he will not take kindly to any of them stealing samples on the following day. He presents the cake and cookies as an alternative; something for them to snack on whenever they feel the urge to swipe at a bowl or plate.

When it starts to get late, they say their good nights and go to bed in high spirits, excited for tomorrow.

x

Prompto finds he can’t fall asleep, even though the day has left him tired. He suspects that a part the problem is the new environment; the way the shadows fall on the furniture of Clarus’ office is different, and that leaves him feeling on edge.

Noctis had slipped into dreamland in a matter of seconds as usual; every once in a while he mumbles and shifts before settling down again. They had a few more blankets than usual with them due to the unconventional sleeping place, in order to ward off the creeping November chill.

After checking his phone one more time, Prompto decides to get up. He is loath to do it because he knows without a drop of uncertainty that Noctis will follow, and Prompto hates being the cause of his waking up at such ungodly hours, but there’s only so many times he can analyze the entire room before he goes crazy.

And so Prompto stands, regretting it almost instantly. They’re too far from the bedrooms for the heat from the radiators to really get to them -- hence the extra blankets -- and the cold air bites at his bare forearms. He briefly considers taking one of the covers and using it as a makeshift cape, but discards the idea; he doesn’t want Noctis to wake up cold.

He carefully cracks open the door and closes it as silently as he can on his way out. A light from the kitchen draws his attention, so he bypasses the living room -- which had been his intended destination -- to make his way there.

“Iggy?” Prompto says, frowning, and said boy snaps his head up, obviously startled. “What are you doing still awake? It’s 1am.”

“Ah-” he starts then pauses, looking down. Prompto follows his gaze and notices the textbooks spread on the kitchen island, and a sniff to the air coupled with a quick glance to the oven confirms that there is something being baked.

“Baking and--” Prompto peeks at the books -- “Studying to help Noctis, I see. Trouble sleeping?” he asks, deceptively casual.

Ignis inclines his head, and Prompto takes it as a yes.

“You know,” Prompto says after a few minutes of silence. “It’s not hard to see that none of us are really… okay, after what happened. Which is totally understandable, I mean, no one would expect us to be okay, and if they did I’d have some serious words for then ‘cause- ah, wait, I’m rambling,” he stops, lifting a hand to scratch his nose.

Ignis gives Prompto a little smile for his troubles, which emboldens him to continue.

“And I know you. We’ve been friends for three years, I kinda know at least some of your tells by now. But you’re- pretending. And I get it; I don’t fault you for that ‘cause I’m kinda doing the same and this will make me sound like an hypocrite but-” Prompto stops to take in a breath. “I’m worried, you know?”

And oh, the fact that just three days ago Noctis said almost the same words to him isn’t lost on Prompto. Ignis stays as quiet as Prompto himself had, but he’s been there before, even if on the receiving end; he won’t let it deter him.

“You’ve been… baking a lot, and if I had to guess, I’d say it’s stress baking. And now you’ve just dived in headfirst into helping Noctis with the whole school thing. I get that it’s a distraction thing, can’t stop to think if your brain is too busy focusing on something else, but that doesn’t make it any healthier. I also get that it’s kinda pointless to say all this without… offering something, some solution, some help in return, so I’m gonna tell you a thing I wasn’t going to until later.”

Ignis nods, curious.

“I talked with Noctis on Saturday, and we had the idea of seeing if we can find a therapist that is aware of magic. It’s pretty obvious that we’re struggling, but we also can’t just go to a normal one, so. Magical. I posted on a few groups and forums, but no one replied to me yet. Which is understandable- it usually takes a while, anyway, and the fact that Thanksgiving is just around the corner probably doesn’t help much.”

“And how would we… have the sessions, if we do find one?” Ignis asks, twirling a pen.

“Well, I think the easiest way would be through a video call. We could mark down a time to start and finish and make it happen.”

“Seems reasonable. But how do we know that the person is trustworthy?”

“The magical community is pretty tightly knit -- it kinda has to be. So-”

Their head turns at the sound of an impact and a muttered curse.

“We’re in the kitchen,” he says, raising his voice just a little.

“We?” Noctis mumbles, pausing at the doorway once he notices Ignis. “Oh. Hey,” he says, yawning soon after.

Prompto tries valiantly, but is unable to contain the answering yawn. Noctis passes him a blanket that had been on their mattress, and Prompto wraps it around himself even though the oven does a fairly good job of warming the room.

“I believe it would be best for us to move this to the living room,” Ignis remarks, smiling at zombie-like Noctis.

There is a brief moment in which Noctis’ gaze sharpens as his eyes make the same path Prompto’s had when arriving. He appears to have reached the same conclusion, but says nothing. They all pile up on the sofa, with Prompto bringing his legs closer to his chest so as to cover them with his cape-blanket. Noctis slumps against him as usual.

“So, as I was saying,” Prompto starts, trying to find a way to put an arm around Noctis’ shoulders without sacrificing any of his body parts to the cold. “We’re pretty tightly knit. And yeah, I know, there’s no such thing as a perfectly secretive place, but we all know the risks. We work on a pretty extensive network of vouching for others, too, so if we get a name, we can check it over with some acquaintances of mine to see if they’re the real deal.”

Ignis mulls it over, fiddling with his wristwatch. It’s a tic that Prompto rarely sees him partake on, which only belies his friend’s exhaustion.

“Alright,” Ignis nods, resolute. “You mentioned not divulging this information, so I won’t mention it to Gladio or Clarus.”

“Thank you,” Prompto says, heartfelt.

Noctis clears his throat a couple minutes later, breaking the silence. “What are you making now?”

Ignis looks to Noctis, then in the direction of the kitchen. “A few tarts. I’ll be making a few options for fillings after I wake up, so both of you are welcome to suggest a flavour.”

“Can it be that one with banana?” Prompto asks, perking up.

“Certainly,” Ignis smiles.

“What about strawberries?” Noctis tries.

“I think I saw some on the fridge earlier. I’ll confirm it and then ask if I may use them.”

“Sweet,” Noctis grins.

“Now, we’re gonna stay here ‘til the tarts are ready, but then we better go back to trying to sleep. All of us,” Prompto says, staring pointedly at Ignis. His tone leaves no room for argument.

“Very well,” Ignis acquiesces.

“What are we doing in the meantime? Can we watch one more episode of Fullmetal Alchemist?” Noctis asks, hopeful.

“One episode. If you try to insist on more I’m gonna chuck the phone at your face,” Prompto chides.

“Yeah yeah, I get it,” Noctis waves him off, already starting up Netflix on his own phone.

Prompto snorts, then remembers Ignis. “Would this be a bother? We left our earbuds on the mattress, so it’s gonna be on speakers.”

“Not at all,” Ignis shakes his head. “I am quite adept at tuning out the outside world in order to concentrate.”

“Right, yeah, I remember that now,” Prompto snickers.

“Prom, it’s gonna start,” Noctis reminds him.

“Yes, your highness, I’m paying attention. No, Noct, hold it like this, I can’t see the screen right…”

x

The day starts later than expected on the Amicitia household. Ignis is the first to wake, as expected, but 9am feels almost unspeakably late for their notably early bird friend. Prompto and Noctis only roll out of bed -- literally -- around half past ten, with vague memories of Clarus entering the office at some point and telling them to go back to sleep after a quick apology for waking them in the first place.

When they ask about the man’s whereabouts, Gladio shrugs and explains that his dad had been called to work on a fairly urgent matter, and will most likely only come home in the late afternoon. After breakfast is served and lunch is planned, Ignis starts to detail what they’ll be doing for the day.

“We’ve decided to go all out, as all of you know well. This means that we’ll be making at least two pies, one or two types of lasagna, fruit salad, a green bean casserole and a sweet potato one. Aside from that, we might end up making homemade ice cream, and there’s also all the potatoes to peel and cut or otherwise mash. Not to mention what we’ll do tomorrow proper.”

“I claim potato duties,” Gladio raises his hand.

“I can cut stuff up, if you want me to,” Noctis shrugs.

“Just tell us where you want us,” Prompto grins.

“I’m going to help too!” Iris exclaims, almost bouncing on the spot.

“Right. Let’s start with the pies, since they have to sit and cool for a while. Iris, I want you to be on wash the ingredients that need to be washed, and later on you’ll be helping Prompto mold the crust. Prompto, I want you to find the utensils we’ll be using,” Ignis instructs.

“I can show you where Daddy keeps it,” Iris beams at Prompto.

“Alright then! Lead the way, little lady.”

“Noctis, I want you to cut up the pumpkin and then help me measure the ingredients,” Ignis says.

“Got it,” Noctis nods, finding a good knife and standing at the ready.

Time flies by as they settle into working together, learning how to keep out of one another's way. The kitchen is noisy and quiet in turn, given that any conversation tends to die out when they have to really focus on their work. Gladio sticks to his corner, mechanically peeling potatoes and throwing roughly half of them in a salt and water mixture, to cut into french fries later on.

Iris helps her brother when no one else needs her services, making sure that the potatoes are all clean and throwing the peels in the trash when they pile up too much. She seems to have tons of fun with making the pie crust with Prompto, laughing as the two of them make sure that it’s not too thick or too thin in some spots.

Noctis pours the ingredients into the mixture bowl as Ignis whisks it into uniformity, secretly amazed at everything that goes in it. Afterwards, he is reallocated to one of the cutting boards, slicing the various fruits into gradually neater little cubes to be mixed with juice and condensed milk later on.

Prompto minds the pot with pasta for the lasagna and gets the honor of arranging it on the baking dish. He cheekily makes a smiley on its surface with grated cheese and laughs when Ignis rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Noctis laughs as well when it comes out of the oven all distorted due to it melting.

Ignis had left the cake and cookies right on the center of the kitchen island right before they began the entire cook-out; by the time 5pm rolls around and Clarus arrives, the cookies are gone and there’s less than one fourth of the cake still on the plate. Clarus jokingly accuses them of not leaving any for him, which makes them all laugh and promise that there’ll be more later.

The last thing they make for the day is the ice cream, keeping it simple to appease to all tastes. Once the kitchen is clean and all has been put away, they take turns with in the two bathrooms of the house, showering off the stickiness borne from hours near the heat of the oven, and all of the repetitive tasks.

Clarus orders pizza for dinner, saying that they deserve a rest from cooking. They put on Night at the Museum and pile up on the living room, talking and laughing between bites.

It doesn’t take long for them to start dozing off, and Clarus pokes everyone mercilessly until they shuffle into bed. As soon as Noctis’ head hits the pillow, however, the overwhelming sleepiness escapes, as skittish as a deer; he convinces Prompto to put on Fullmetal Alchemist again, excitedly saying that he could feel that they were nearing a really good part.

Prompto mutters that all parts of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood are good parts, but caves in either way. They lie flat on their backs with heads almost touching and shoulders overlapping, taking turns on holding the phone above their heads.

Miraculously, it doesn’t fall on their faces at any point of the night. Noctis realizes that Prompto’s eyes are spending more time closed than open when they’re halfway through the fifth episode in a row, so he pauses the player and locks the screen, quietly shoving the phone under the pillow. Prompto accepts Noctis’ suggestion to go to sleep for real with surprisingly little protest, turning on his side to shove his face on the crook of Noctis’ neck and throw an arm around his waist.

Noctis sends a prayer up to the stars, thanking them for how easy the process had been, and then another, asking them to let his friend sleep soundly all through the night.

Judging by how he isn’t woken up at any point due to Prompto suddenly disappearing from his side, he believes his wish was granted.

x

Thanksgiving dawns bright and chilly. The sun streams into the room through the only window of Clarus’ office, and a beam falls right across Prompto’s cheek. As the hours go by, it moves to his eyelids, and he wakes up with an annoyed groan.

Noctis whines and clings when he tries to draw away, mumbling almost incoherently about how it’s too early and Prompto should come back to bed instead of getting up. Prompto can’t help the giggle at his friend’s betrayed, disgruntled expression once he manages to pry loose the fingers that had been holding his ankle in a secure grip.

“C’mon,” Prompto encourages with a whisper. “Rise and shine, Nocto, there’s more food to be made and then eaten later,” he sing-songs.

Noctis groans dramatically and turns so that his back is facing Prompto -- who simply laughs at the predictable reaction.

“Well, it’s your choice: you can either go with me now or you can follow me in a few minutes, like always,” Prompto shrugs.

Noctis grumbles darkly and throws the blankets off of himself. Prompto ruffles his hair vigorously once he gets close enough, making it even more of a raven’s nest than before. Noctis reacts with startling swiftness -- Prompto blinks and suddenly his friend is right in front of him, with both hands on blonde tresses and a competitive grin on his lips.

Prompto yelps and retaliates in turn, and they roll around the floor, tickling and poking and yelling until the door opens, making them freeze in place.

Clarus raises an amused eyebrow at them. “I can see the two of you are filled with energy this morning,” he remarks.

“Uh! Sorry, I guess we were being too noisy…” Prompto says, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s no trouble. Iris is usually far rowdier, in a nearly daily basis. We’re all used to it,” he grins.

“Still…”

“No more apologizing. You should freshen up and come on down, Gladio has breakfast duties this morning and he’s making omelettes.”

“Yes sir,” Noctis says, doing a cheeky salute.

Clarus snorts and closes the door once again.

“I claim the upstairs bathroom,” Noctis says hurriedly, and Prompto curses.

“You sneaky bastard,” he scowls, having planned to make a run for it, seeing as it was the the superior bathroom by far.

Noctis grins, absolutely smug, and Prompto narrows his eyes.  He decides to still make a run for it in a split second, but the Noctis knows him too well and they scramble for the door, trying to get there first and stop the other from progressing at the same time.

Noctis still wins, the little shit.

x

Clarus makes what they’ll eat for lunch as soon as breakfast is done with, in order to free up the stove for the remaining dishes to be prepared before evening comes around -- including the turkey. Prompto snickers at Noctis’ disgusted expression as the man stuffs it with vegetables, remembering the day his friend had declared his hate for them.

Ignis had convinced him to try a carrot, and Noctis spit it out immediately after biting it. Prompto had laughed his ass off, watching his friend run to the sink to wash the offending taste off and then return with a surprisingly solid hatred for all vegetables. Prompto thinks he could have found something to his liking, if only he had kept himself open to that possibility; but alas, Noctis is stubborn, and Prompto knows how to recognize a losing battle when he sees one.

Clarus all but drags them out of the kitchen after lunch, saying that they’ve done enough and it’s his time to shine, refusing to give even an inch for them to latch onto. Dejected and flat-out refused, they set up the game station in the living room and start up a gaming marathon, starting with co-op games, ending with the competitive ones. Gladio laughs the loudest and proclaims that it’s not a true gathering until someone almost gets strangled after the likes of a blue shell, a +4 card on Uno, or a particularly brutal combo in a fighting game.

Ironically, he is the one to suffer that fate, due to his constant taunts and ruthless tactics. Prompto takes a pillow and presses it into his face -- leaning most of his weight on it -- after Gladio manages to kill his character even though he had had only a microscopic sliver of HP left on his own, screaming incoherently all the while. Iris knocks her brother off of his high horse right after, showing off a frankly impressive ability at making combos that barely gives Gladio’s character a moment to breathe.

Prompto slow claps when she beats him in fifteen seconds flat, and even Ignis commends her skill. She beams and chooses the next game as per their agreement, as the overall winner of the current one.

Clarus shows his face on the living room around three in the afternoon, bringing a plate of sandwiches for them to snack on, staying to play a few rounds with them. He allows Ignis to mind the pot with mashed potatoes after seeing how eager the boy is to help, and sticks around longer once the turkey has been put into the oven.

When the sun starts to get closer to the horizon, they take turns in the bathrooms again, donning nicer clothes just because they can. Ignis organizes all the food on the table and Prompto sets the timer on his trusty old camera after finding a good place to set it at so that they can all appear on the photo properly, lining up behind the table to show off the veritable banquet.

They make mountains with their plates serving as the base, insisting on taking a little of everything.

“I can feel my body screaming in fear,” Prompto says in a low tone, staring at his plate.

“Gonna chicken out so soon?” Gladio taunts.

“No way, I was promised a food coma and that’s what I’m gonna get.”

With that said, Prompto lifts his fork, a determined expression firmly in place, and digs in as the others do the same.

x

Later that night, they are all collapse on the sofas and floor, groaning and clutching their stomachs.

“I can’t move,” Prompto whines.

“We’re just gonna have to roll to bed… eventually,” Noctis says, somewhere on his left.

“We shouldn’t have drank that juice at the end,” Gladio points out, in perfect hindsight; various noises of agreement sound out.

“Drinking anything after that much food is a mistake, and it’s one I’ll do ‘til the end of my days,” Prompto says in a flat tone.

“Do you guys want another movie or something? I think I can reach the remote,” Clarus asks.

“What is a Thanksgiving without a movie marathon, am I right?” Prompto shrugs with one shoulder, trying not to pull at his stomach.

“Quite,” Ignis agrees.

“I want to pick!” Iris jumps up from her spot on the floor, being the only one sensible enough to pace herself with all the eating.

“Sure thing, darling,” Clarus concedes, passing the remote to her.

A few moments later, Moana starts to play.

“Great choice, I love crying because of Disney,” Prompto quips, and hears Noctis snicker. “Don’t think I didn’t see your tears on Big Hero 6, Noct. I did,” he scowls.

“I pass no judgement,” Noctis is quick to say.

“Shh, it’s starting!” Iris frowns.

Prompto mimics zipping his mouth shut and locking it, throwing the key to… somewhere. Iris giggles and Prompto mentally pats himself on the back before focusing on what he can see of the screen.

x

“Okay, I definitely regret going back for a midnight snack. I should know better than this, goddamnit,” Prompto laments, struggling to find a comfortable position to sleep on.

“And yet,” Noctis mutters, eyes already closed.

“And yet,” Prompto agrees. “I only need to find a--” he frowns, still shifting around -- “good enough spot- and then comes the coma part of food coma. Ugh!”

Noctis rolls over and sets his head firmly on Prompto’s left shoulder, wisely keeping his arms to himself instead of throwing one around Prompto’s torso as usual.

“There, now you won’t move anymore,” he says.

“Noooct,” Prompto whines.

“Don’t ‘Noct’ me. Breathe as deeply as you can, close your eyes and sleep.”

“You’re bossy tonight,” Prompto remarks.

“Well, someone won’t stop moving when I’m trying to sleep. I’d say you’ve earned it.”

“Bleh.”

“Go to sleep, Prompto, or so help me.”

Prompto kind of wants to stay awake just to spite Noctis, but said plans are led astray when he falls asleep between one blink and the next, despite the discomfort.

Chapter Text

Loud knocks on the door make Prompto jerk awake at some unknown hour of the morning. It seems he had successfully escaped the sunbeam from the previous day, and for that he is grateful.

“What?” he croaks, loud enough to be heard by whoever is on the other side of the door. Noctis burrows deeper into the mattress, tilting his face down to escape from the brightness.

The barely-perceptible sound of the hinges announces its opening, and Prompto twists his neck with as little movement as possible to see who it is.

“Can I come in?” Iris asks, still holding on to the doorknob.

“Sure,” Prompto nods readily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

She closes the door behind her and walks to the edge of the mattress, sitting down on the floor to be more of a level with Prompto.

“What is it?” he asks, studying her hesitant expression.

“I wanted to go to the park with the playground today. Could you take me?” she asks after a few seconds of fiddling with the fabric of her pajamas.

“Who do you mean by ‘you’?”

“You and Noct.”

Prompto frowns a little. “I mean, sure, but- why only us?”

Iris pouts. “I want to hang out with you guys too! Gladdy and Ignis have been taking me to a lot of places, but I want to have fun with you two, too. Whenever you’re around, the four of you get together and we never get to play my games.”

Prompto’s feature softens. “Sorry about that, then. But we’ll go out today and have tons of fun to make up for it, yeah?”

“Yes!” Iris beams.

“Now, I have a very important task for you,” Prompto whispers, gesturing for her to lean closer.

“What?” she asks, getting excited even though he hasn’t told her what it is yet.

“You see, it can be very hard to wake up Noct. So I’ll need you to help me, okay? We’re gonna tickle him awake,” Prompto grins, on the edge of looking devilish.

Iris’ eyes almost sparkle with mischief. “Okay,” she whispers back. She stands up and circles to the other side of the mattress, closer to Noctis.

Once she’s in position, Prompto tells her through gestures what is Noctis’ weak spot: his sides. They count down from three and attack.

The result is nearly instantaneous; Noctis yells and starts to kick out, soon descenting into breathless giggles as he attempts to squirm away from their reach. Prompto stops the assault when Noctis lands a well-aimed jab at his ribs, and Iris is quick to follow suit once she has no one to back her up.

“That was a dick move and there’s gonna be consequences, Prom,” Noctis promises, his tone dark, once he catches his breath. His expression becomes lighter as he turns. “And what do we have here, an accomplice? Well, she will have to suffer for it too, it’s only fair,” he shrugs and shakes his head.

Iris giggles and stands to make a break for it, but Noctis sits up and grabs her by the waist, pulling her to the mattress and returning the attack tenfold, mercilessly going for her armpits and belly.

“I give I give I give!” she screams out, collapsing on the mattress as soon as Noctis releases his grip, taking in huge gulps of air.

Noctis falls on his back as well, while Prompto tries to contain his snickering.

“You’re laughing now,” Noctis starts, in a clear warning tone. “You won’t be laughing when I’m through with you.”

“Ohhh,” Prompto mocks.

“Keep laughing, blondie. Keep laughing.”

Iris sits up. “You said a bad word before, Noct,” she grins.

“Did I?” Noctis frowns. “I guess I did. Sorry?”

“Daddy curses a lot when he’s very tired or very mad. He doesn’t even notice,” she confesses.

“Must be amusing,” Prompto smiles as Iris nods.

“Now, why was I awakened in such a rude manner and what is the Lady Iris doing in our humble makeshift bedroom?” Noctis asks, pushing his shoulders back and doing a little bow that only makes Iris blush and giggle in delight.

“We’re escorting her Ladyship to an outing today! She requested to be taken to a park, whence she wishes to spend some time with us,” Prompto explains, playing along.

“Is that so? Well, then the Lady must get ready! It wouldn’t do to go out still in her pajamas, now, would it?” Noctis grins.

Iris covers her mouth with one hand, still blushing.

“And the Lady must also allow her humble companions to get properly dressed as well,” Prompto points out, and Noctis nods.

The girl stands up and straightens her back, putting on a serene smile. “Yes, you’re right. I will get ready and wait for you at the kitchen,” she curtsies and leaves the room.

Prompto goes back to laughing once the door is safely closed. “Oh man, that was great.”

“Did she say why she wanted to go to the park, other than the whole spending time together thing?”

Prompto nods. “Said that we never get to play her games when we’re around.”

“That’s fair. What time is it?”

“I have no idea,” Prompto snorts, reaching for his phone to check. “Eh, around half past eight.”

Noctis groans, kicking off the blankets that had managed to cling to him through all the tickling. “We better get going then, unless we want to go and spend like half an hour there and then come back for lunch,” he grumbles.

“Yeah. Bathroom or kitchen first?”

“Bathroom.”

“Right. You go first, I’m gonna catch up with my dashboards,” Prompto waves him off.

“Don’t get sucked into it too much.”

“I won’t!”

x

Clarus sees them off, telling them to have fun and be back in one piece. The park is only some fifteen minutes or so on foot and the weather’s pleasant out, so they forego asking the man for a ride and take a walk there instead.

Iris takes the lead, pointing out interesting features along the way while also sharing tidbits of information she had picked up in the few months since her family had moved to that neighborhood. The park is largely empty when they arrive, dotted with people walking their dogs and a handful of children with their parents or siblings. Prompto thinks it’s gonna fill up more in the afternoon, once more parents get tired of their children’s indoor antics and release them back unto the wild.

They get to the playground and explore a little. Noctis and Prompto sit on a seesaw, shifting until they find perfect balance; Iris sits on the swings and decides what she will have them all play.

“Oh, I got it!” she exclaims a minute or two later, with a spark in her eyes. “I’m gonna be a superhero and you’ll be the bad guys!”

Prompto sees Noctis attempt to contain his grin. “What, you don’t want one of us to be your sidekick?” Noctis asks.

“I can defeat both of you alone,” Iris affirms with all the confidence in the world, crossing her arms and lifting her chin defiantly.

“We’ll see about that,” Prompto smirks. “What’s our scenario, oh great hero?”

“You’re trying to blow up the entire town,” she answers, looking around. “I have to find the control panel for the bombs and destroy it.”

“And what will be the stand in for said panel?” Noctis tilts his head. “Can we choose?”

Iris hums, going to the edge of the playground and picking up a medium sized solid brick. “It could be this,” she says, holding it up.

“How will we know it’s the right one?”

“Hold on,” Prompto says, rummaging around the ground until he finds a smaller, uneven stone. “We can mark it with this, yeah? ‘P’ for panel?”

“Sounds good,” Noctis shrugs and Prompto starts to scratch the letter onto the brick. “Now, you said you’re a superhero, and we’re super villains, so what are our powers?”

“I’m super strong and smart!” she says, lifting an arm and flexing her biceps. “You can choose your own powers, but nothing unfair!”

“Alright then! I have magic,” Prompto grins wide, laughing when the others give him deadpan looks. “What? It’s a good superpower!”

“Would be, if you knew how to use it right,” Noctis teases.

“Hey! I’m in training and you know it! Let’s see if you’re still saying that in a few years,” Prompto grumbles.

“What ‘bout you, Noct?” Iris prompts.

“Uhhh… I am… stealthy?”

Prompto cackles. “That’s lame, Noct.”

“Is not! It’s a very valuable skill,” his friend scowls.

“Now that the powers are set, we can start!” Iris smiles, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Nuh-uh, little hero, hold up. My buddy and I have to decide on a plan! We haven’t even hidden the panel yet!” Prompto shakes his head.

Iris crosses her arms and pouts a little. “Fine then; I’ll wait here.”

“The park is pretty big, so I gotta ask. Is all of it fair game?”

Iris looks around, spinning in place to be able to view it in full. “It should be fine unless you two do something like bury it or put it up on a tree, right?” she furrows her brow.

“I guess so,” Prompto shrugs and grips the brick tighter. “Now c’mon my fellow villain, we have evil schemes to create!” he cackles, getting chuckles from both of them as they leave Iris by the swings.

x

They spread out once the game starts, taking turns with following Iris and taunting her, telling her multiple times that she will never find it and will thus have to watch as the city blows up. She pretends not to listen sometimes and retorts on others, promising that she will find it and defeat them so that they’ll be thrown in jail for their crimes.

They make her walk in circles, acting in a way that makes Iris think she’s close when in truth she could not be farther away from the objective. Prompto almost gives his position away with a cackle once he gets the idea to send a few harmless spells her way; the first one is an insistent gust of wind that tickles her nose and makes her hair fly right into her eyes.

“That’s not fair!” Iris shouts once she realizes that it’s his doing.

“Yes it is! It’s my power,” Prompto answers from behind a tree, snickering.

She releases a long and annoyed groan. “I’ll find you!”

“You can try,” he provokes, making eye contact with Noctis, who is hiding behind another tree a dozen meters away. They run away at the same time, going in different directions so that she doesn’t know who to follow.

It continues in such a fashion for almost twenty minutes, as Iris gets closer and closer to the brick’s location. Prompto gets careless while urging the grass to trap her feet and hinder her movements, gloating so much that he fails to notice her getting closer.

“I won’t be bothered by your tricks anymore, magician!” Iris yells, getting ready to give him a mock punch.

Prompto is resigned to admitting defeat when he sees Noctis approaching from behind, as silent as the cat he had been a month before. Before the girl can say the name of her super move and knock out Prompto, Noctis lifts her into the air so suddenly that she squeals.

“Run, Prompto!” he shouts, holding her tight as she squirms.

“Thanks, buddy!” Prompto says as he does as instructed.

He hears more screaming, which quickly turns into laughter. A glance to his previous spot confirms his suspicions: Iris had became the victim of Noctis’ tickling for the second time that day. He hides behind the half-wall that demarcates the small sports court of the park and watches as Iris successfully squirms out of Noctis’ hold, falling on her feet.

She punches the ground while saying the name of the move -- shockwave -- and Noctis falls on his back, acting dazed.

“I will find it,” he hears her say, full of determination, before she stalks off.

Noctis stays on the floor until she gets far enough, then jumps to his feet and goes to Prompto’s location.

“She’s pretty close to it already,”” he says, brushing dirt off his butt.

Prompto shrugs. “She has to win at some point, right?”

“Yeah, but I’d say we had a good run,” Noctis grins, impish.

“Oh, we did,” Prompto laughs. “Ready for the grand finale?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

x

They go out in style, with Prompto throwing a handful more harmless spells her way and Noctis throwing pebbles to slow her progress with considerable accuracy, but taking the care not to hit anywhere that could really hurt.

Eventually, she incapacitates both boys and ‘destroys’ the control panel, doing a little victory dance as the two catch their breaths, lying on the grass.

“This was fun,” Iris says once most of the excitement has died off, sitting on the ground to rest for a bit.

“It most certainly was,” Prompto nods.

“We should do it again sometime,” Noctis suggests.

“Yes! I’ll think of something even better for the next time,” Iris beams.

“You do that, little one,” Prompto says, reaching out to pat her knee.

“I’m starving,” Noctis announces.

“So am I, buddy. Ready to go back?”

“Yeah,” he replies, standing up with a groan. “I need a shower,” he notes.

“Dude, me too.”

“Food!” Iris calls out, walking like a zombie in the direction of her house.

“All set?” Prompto asks Noctis.

“Yep.”

“Follow the lady then,” he laughs.

x

The groups disbands to go back home on Saturday, an hour or so after lunch. It’s not too cold out, so Prompto opens the windows a little once they arrive, letting the air circulate after days of the house being closed up.

He ignores the way Noctis laughs when he goes to the bed and proceeds to smush his face on his favorite pillow, letting the familiar and comforting scent fill his nostrils.

“Dude, why a pillow?” Noctis chuckles.

“Used to do this to my chocobo plushie, but he’s so old at this point that I’m kinda afraid to damage him by doing this,” Prompto explains.

“You mean the one that you keep safe in the wardrobe?” Noctis asks and Prompto nods. “I like that one.”

“I know,” Prompto says, smile growing slowly akin to an unfurling bloom. “You loved curling up against it to sleep. That’s where I found you almost every day after getting home from school.”

“He was very comfortable,” Noctis shrugs, “and your scent was stronger in it than in pretty much anything else.”

Prompto blushes. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he laughs with no small amount of awkwardness, idly rubbing his nose.

“It is. Animals rely a lot on their senses, you know. Especially their sense of smell,” Noctis says, sitting on the bed, right next to Prompto, giving him a crooked smile. “You smell like home.”

Prompto feels the blush spread further across his cheeks. “Noooct,” he whines, hitting the other with the pillow just to have something to do with his hands.

“What? It’s the truth,” Noctis laughs, lifting his arms to defend himself.

“It’s embarrassing!”

“That doesn’t make it any less true.”

Prompto makes an indecipherable noise and keeps up the barrage, hoping it will stop Noctis’ laughter. After half a dozen hits, Noctis wrenches the pillows from his hands and throws it to the side, using both arms to bring Prompto closer.

Prompto squeaks at the suddenness of both the movement and the proximity, going silent and very still when Noctis buries his nose on Prompto’s hair just to the left of his temple.

“Home,” Noctis whispers into the gold strands, mere centimeters away from Prompto’s ear.

If inquired about it, Prompto would probably go for the cliche and guess that he is as red as a stop sign right about now. He has no idea what to do, so he stays frozen in place as Noctis pulls him even closer and starts to nuzzle his hair. Prompto fists a bunch of Noctis’ shirt, using it to support his weight in their awkward position as his heart goes haywire.

Eventually, he reaches behind Noctis to grab at the edge of the pillow, securing his grip on it while moving as little as possible. Next, he tickles Noctis’ waist, which is easily accessible and makes the boy recoil as if he had been scalded, thus allowing Prompto to proceed with his plan and mock-suffocate the other with the aforementioned pillow.

The little shit simply goes back to laughing, knowing that Prompto won’t put in enough pressure to truly deprive him of oxygen. Still, Prompto maintains the position determinedly until his face feels cooler, at which point he relaxes his grip and falls back to the bed, leaving the fluffy pillow atop Noctis’ head.

Noctis pushes it off and silence blankets the room for a few minutes. It’s only broken by Prompto’s noise of protest when Noctis grabs at his ankle and skims his fingers, featherlight, on the arch of his foot. He grins when Prompto wrenches it back to get out of reaching distance.

“Is that why you smell my hair at night, sometimes?” Prompto asks after a few seconds, making no effort to sit up.

“Yeah. Human noses aren’t as good as a cat’s, so I gotta get way closer to the source,” Noctis replies, sounding a tad sad.

Prompto shifts to laying on his side, so that he can see the other better. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what? The sense of smell or being a cat in general?”

“Being a cat, I guess.”

“I don’t know,” Noctis shrugs. “There are some parts of it that I miss, like the better senses and the… simplicity of that life, if I can put it that way? No need to worry about human things like money, education, or think about what I’m going to do in the future. But as a human, I can talk to people -- I can express what I want in a much clearer way, and really make friends, you know?”

Prompto hums in understanding, and Noctis carries on.

“Being treated as a pet is so different from being treated as a friend. God, you have no idea how much I missed being able to speak and be actually understood,” he enthuses, grinning due to unbridled relief.

Prompto smiles ruefully, scooting closer. “Must have been unbearable.”

“It was. And I don’t mean only the normal conversations either; I spent a lot of those 300 years being someone else’s pet, and I can’t explain with words the frustration of not being able to call for help when a fire started, or when they fainted or had had a seizure or any of those things. All I could do was meow and insist on the matter until a person went with me just to get me to shut up.”

Prompto winces. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he says, frowning slightly and fiddling with the hem of his sleeves.

“It wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I know, but still… I wish I had known. Maybe I could have done something.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to,” Noctis sighs. “The Sanderson’s magic… it wouldn’t have been easy to trample with it.”

“But I could have tried,” Prompto insists.

“Let’s drop that subject, okay? I’m not a cat anymore and the brothers are dead; talking about what could have been will lead us nowhere good. What matters is that I’m still here; I’m human again and I’m with you, right?”

“Right…”

Noctis rolls his eyes and smiles. “Come here, dummy,” he says, opening his arms.

Prompto doesn’t hesitate to fall into the embrace, immediately hiding his face on the fabric of Noctis’ t-shirt. At that moment, he can’t help but think that Noctis is right about the scent thing; he always feels the safest when engulfed in a hug, and now he wonders if being surrounded by a familiar smell contributes to that. Some of his fondest childhood memories are of the rare but all-encompassing hugs his mother liked to give, before his parents deemed him old enough to basically leave him to his own devices.

Noctis’ words spur his mind into picking up a thought that has been the inspiration of a fair number of his nightmares: what if Noctis hadn’t made it? Prompto hates going down that path; the fear he had felt while waiting for the others to tell him Noctis was alive and safe always comes back with a vengeance, sticking to the corners of his consciousness much like a bad, catchy song.

Words build on the back of his throat in response to those thoughts. Prompto is used to swallowing them back by now, but this time, he hesitates.

Prompto takes a second to evaluate the situation, to breathe deeply and document the steady beat of Noctis’ heart. He doesn’t have to keep that fear to himself; he knows that Noctis would be willing to listen and provide comfort, but emotions rarely -- if ever -- listen to logic, as evidenced by the dread that blocks the words from leaving his mouth.

He decides in a split second to spit them out anyway.

“I was so scared that time, when the brothers turned to dust and you were silent,” Prompto starts without lifting his head, causing the words to come out slightly muffled. “You had been kind of my cat for three years and I had known you were actually a human for less than twelve hours; but I was already terrified of losing you.”

Noctis had started rubbing circles on Prompto’s upper back after the first sentence -- a display of support that Prompto appreciates.

“I kept telling myself that you were immortal -- we had seen you come back to life, so you had to have survived, right? I promised to take care of you; you couldn’t just die there,” he pauses in order to swallow back the knot that had been forming in his throat. “And then you- you just appeared right in front of me, all cheeky asking why I was crying,” he sniffles.

“I couldn’t miss that chance,” Noctis says softly, ruffling Prompto’s hair. Even without looking, Prompto knows he’s smiling.

Prompto huffs. “Of course you couldn’t.”

Noctis stays silent, but Prompto would bet that his smile has grown.

“Anyway… I am glad that you’re here. Like, real fucking glad.”

Noctis snorts at the expletive. "There's nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says, soft and genuine, and Prompto snuggles in closer to hide how happy that makes him feel.

“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t let you leave anyway,” he says, grinning when Noctis scoffs derisively.

“As if you’d be able to stop me,” the other bristles.

“Pretty sure I could figure something out. A bribe or the like.”

“I’m offended you think me so easy to please,” Noctis says, tone flat.

“You’re offended by the truth? That’s not good, buddy,” Prompto shrugs.

“Lies and slander, all of it.”

“Keep fooling yourself, Nocto,” Prompto grins, patting his chest condescendingly.

“You know,” Noctis begins, airy. “I still haven’t acted out my revenge for today’s rude awakening.”

“Ohhh, is that supposed to be scary?”

“You’ll see,” his friend smiles, absolutely serene. “I’ve had three hundred and something years to learn how to be devious.”

“I’ll just have to wait, then?”

“Can’t rush perfection, right?”

Prompto snorts, rolling to the side and out of Noctis’ embrace. He leaves their legs halfway entangled however, unwilling to draw away fully.

“I’ll be sure not to hold my breath,” Prompto says with a lofty tilt of his head. He’d perform a mocking bow, but the fact that he’s in bed has him shove away such plans.

Noctis hums, every inch the snooty aristocrat -- nose and chin held high, back as straight as their position allows and eyes glinting with something akin to the disdain that comes from believing yourself entirely superior to whoever you’re staring at. It lasts for all of ten seconds before they dissolve into breathless laughter, hitting the bed with their fists as Prompto tries to imitate the pose without much success.

Once the tears are all wiped away and all that remains are the wide grins and occasional giggles, Prompto speaks again.

“Wanna play a game or something?” he asks, idly spinning his phone, taking advantage of the negligible friction the covers provide.

“Gotta study,” Noctis grimaces. “Can’t say that I want to go to school with you guys next year and then just slack off. It’s bad enough that I’ve done nothing those past few days,” he completes, clearly apologetic.

“It’s cool. I should probably join you on that, actually- there’s that one assignment due on Tuesday that I have yet to start. Really, I don’t get why the teachers take such pleasure in giving us homework over the break,” Prompto groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Well, at least you won’t be working alone.”

“Yeah.”

The bed shifts as Noctis scoots closer to the edge in order to stand up. Prompto makes no move to follow, holding position until Noctis laughs and starts to tug on his arm.

“C’mon, Prom,” he singsongs, enjoying the opportunity to tease. “The textbooks await.”

“I wish I could burn them,” Prompto huffs.

“At least wait ‘til you don’t need them anymore, ‘kay?”

“I guess,” Prompto scowls for a couple seconds, then his expression smoothes out into a crooked smile. “Lead the way, friend.”

x

They immerse themselves in books and worksheets until the sun starts to set. The dining table has at least three empty packs of chips and a few cans of soda and cups of water strewn about, but Prompto’s assignment is already three-quarters done while Noctis has just started doing Ignis’ worksheet for the chapter he had been reading. All in all, it’s good progress; Prompto can finish the last few questions tomorrow, no problem.

“I think I’m gonna get started on dinner,” Prompto says after a good stretch, rolling his neck and popping all possible joints. “Any requests?”

Noctis’ only acknowledgement of the question is a noncommittal hum, which Prompto takes as a no with an easy shrug.

While taking out the ingredients and pans necessary for the dish he has in mind, Prompto allows himself to think that Noctis looks way too cute, all concentrated with a frown marking his forehead and fingers skimming at the edge of the page distractedly. He doesn’t hold onto the thought for long, however; lets it drift into the back of his conscience, where it had come from.

By the time Prompto turns off the stove, Noctis is already on the last question, flipping the pages back and forth to find the facts and arguments he needs to support his answer. Prompto decides to go the extra mile and set a plate for Noctis as well, grinning at the other’s surprised look once he pushes the book to the side and finds a full plate waiting for him.

“I didn’t even notice you were cooking,” Noctis confesses, sounding dazed.

“I realized,” Prompto snickers.

“You didn’t have to do it all by yourself. I could have helped with something.”

“Nah, it’s okay. You were focused on your work and that isn’t a bad thing. Let’s eat while it’s still hot, alright?”

“Yeah.”

x

Once evening falls, Prompto turns on his laptop to perform his daily check on the forums, ignoring the way his pulse quickens with expectation. He knows better than to tell himself it isn’t good to get so excited -- the years have taught him that it’s easier to learn how to deal with the disappointment that comes with being on the receiving end of radio silence.

So it’s a surprise when the page loads and his eyes catch on the icon that proclaims he has a new private message. Still, he tries to convince himself that it could be about something else; maybe it’s an automated, forum-wide message instead of the answer he’s been waiting for with baited breath for a week.

Prompto looks at Noctis, who is sprawled next to him on the sofa and watching a video from an educational channel Ignis had recommended. He appears completely absorbed in it, with his brow slightly furrowed and the occasional tilt of his head.

Prompto doesn’t want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t think he has the courage to open his inbox without the other. He bites his lip and continues to stare at Noctis, trying to decide whether to wait until the video is finished or bother him right away.

Just when Prompto makes his mind to wait, Noctis pauses the video and looks at him with a raised eyebrow, taking out one side of his earbuds.

“What is it?” he asks when Prompto remains silent.

“You should finish watching it,” Prompto evades, gesturing at the phone.

Noctis studies him for another moment and then, very deliberately, opens the app drawer and swipes Youtube closed. He takes out the other earbud and sets the phone down on the couch, turning to give Prompto a sardonic smile.

“Oh, would you look at that? It’s closed now, so I’m gonna have to listen to you,” he says, almost smirking.

Prompto’s gaze becomes deadpan. “You know as well as I do that you can just continue where you left it.”

“Yeah, but to do that I’d have to unlock the phone, open the menu, wait for Youtube to open and then go to my history and it’s just way too much of a hassle,” Noctis shrugs. “So, what’s up?”

Prompto takes a deep breath and looks at the laptop screen again. “There’s… I got a new private message at one of the forums I told you about and I’m--” he rubs the bridge of his nose -- “I’m a little scared. Kinda.”

Noctis’ expression softens. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just- come here, maybe read it with me?”

Noctis does as asked, scooting closer until their sides are pressed together. Prompto leans into his warmth by force of habit, closing his eyes to take another deep, steadying breath. With Noctis’ right hand curling around his biceps comfortably, Prompto clicks the link to his inbox in a rush.

The nickname attached to the message is absolutely unfamiliar, but it isn’t colored in the deep blue that marks a moderator, nor the red that marks an admin. It’s titled Re: People Finder, which is the name for the topic Prompto left his post at in this particular forum. His heart rate skyrockets.

“Looks legit enough,” Noctis comments.

Prompto breathes out and clicks the message, feeling as if the world is standing still during the time it takes for the page to load.

Hey __quicksilver! As is probably obvious by the name of this pm, i saw your post at the People Finder topic. While i’m not who you’re looking for, i might know someone who is. I had a few sessions with a psychologist a year or two ago, and she’s real good at it. I don’t have her contact details anymore, but her office isn’t super far, so i’ll try to go there one of these days!

Even if for some reason she can’t do it, i’ll ask for any recs so i don’t come back to you empty handed, okay? Best of luck!

“This is good,” Noctis says. “Promising. They reached out on their own, so it means a higher chance of it being the real thing, right?”

“Right,” Prompto whispers.

“Hey, look at me,” Noctis asks, gently shaking him by the shoulders, not stopping even after Prompto complies. “We’ll find someone, okay? Even if we end up having to message everyone in those forums, or comb the hundred of pages these people-finder things have.”

“Let’s leave those desperate measures to after they get back at us, ‘kay? These topics get dozens of posts daily,” Prompto smiles. Noctis puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer, so Prompto shifts his weight accordingly, letting the other support him literally as well as figuratively.

“If you say so,” Noctis concedes, placing a kiss on Prompto’s hairline as the edges of his mouth start to curl up with something fond.

“I do say so.”

Noctis snorts. “Reply to them and then we can play that game you were talking about.”

“Portal 2?”

“Yep.”

“I hope you’re ready to get pissed at it,” Prompto grins.

“You’ll be right here getting pissed at it with me,” Noctis shrugs.

Prompto laughs. “Makes sense.”

“Now quit stalling and reply to them already.”

“Impatient, impatient.”

x

Noctis notices Prompto checking the forum almost obsessively for the entirety of Sunday and decides his revenge will have to be put into motion sooner than expected. He plans and plans, ruffling through ideas until he finds one that seems good enough.

While Prompto is away at school on Monday, Noctis foregoes studying to enact it, walking all over the house and rediscovering nooks and crannies he had explored as a cat.

He is innocently perched on the sofa when Prompto arrives. They exchange greetings as usual and Prompto makes a beeline for the kitchen to get something light to eat, as is his habit upon getting home.

Noctis hears the hiss that signals that the fridge has been opened and allows himself to grin like the cat who got the cream at the heavy pause that comes after the sound of a drawer.

“Noct?” Prompto calls.

Noctis hums to show he’s listening, schooling his face back into disinterest just in case Prompto comes back to the living room.

There’s a few more seconds of silence. “Why are there pencils, ropes and a hairbrush in the cutlery drawer?”

“There are?” Noctis says, feigning confusion.

“Yeah,” Prompto replies, and Noctis hears him walk to the kitchen threshold. When he turns, the other is holding one exemplar of said brushes, absolutely astonished.

Noctis manages to keep a straight face for half a minute, but then it starts to crack and the grin returns, full force.

Prompto narrows his eyes. “I knew this was your fault. Where are the spoons, Noct?”

Noctis shrugs.

“Is this your famed revenge?”

“Maybe.”

“Noct, c’mon, where are they?”

“Dunno.”

“My ass you don’t,” Prompto rolls his eyes.

“Better look for it yourself,” Noctis snickers.

“Ugh, fine.”

Noctis watches as he goes back to the kitchen to look at the drawer again. He knows what Prompto will hope for: that Noctis has only switched the places of the utensils, which means that if the brushes are where the spoons used to be, then…

It would never be so easy, obviously, but it’s amusing all the same to watch him head to the bedroom and return with a package of garbage bags in hand.

“Noctis, I swear to god.”

Noctis laughs, curling up on himself when Prompto comes closer to hit him with said package.

“How did you have the time to do all this? All I found was a bit of rope, some loose screws and flu meds.”

“Lots of determination.”

Prompto huffs at him, but there’s a glimmer of amusement buried under the exasperation.

“You’re not gonna tell me where the spoons are, are you.”

“Nope.”

“What if it’s something I really need?”

“Didn’t hide those. Doing something like hiding absolutely every kitchen utensil considering that we still need to cook would be going too far.”

“At least you have standards, I guess.”

With that, Prompto goes back to his spoon hunt. Noctis snorts every time the boy crosses the living room to go somewhere else, following the trail of pens and napkins and stray shampoo bottles Noctis had laid out for him. In the end, Prompto finds them in an old toolbox he had forgotten the existence of, wrapped in cloth to keep them more or less clean.

“It’s obviously best for you to wash them before use,” Noctis points out.

“I know, dumbass. God knows how many microbes are hanging out inside that thing,” Prompto says, scrunching up his face.

Once they’re washed and put away in the right place, Prompto finally takes his yogurt and settles on the sofa to watch an episode of whatever catches his eye -- to turn off his brain after hours of school, as he calls it. Only, when he reaches for the remote at the coffee table, his fingers find a wooden spoon instead.

“Noooooctiiiis,” he growls as Noctis guffaws. “If you don’t give me the remote right this instant I’m gonna beat you halfway to death with this goddamn spoon; I swear I will,” he huffs, brandishing it in the air in an attempt to seem threatening.

Still laughing, Noctis reaches into the sofa cushions and pulls out the remote, wiping away tears as he hands it over.

Just when it’s winding down, Noctis sees Prompto fight to contain a smile brought on by the infectious laugh that keeps spilling out from him, which obviously only throws him right back into square one.

Prompto notices him staring, and bats Noctis’ pointing fingers away. “Stop laughing,” he hisses.

“You- you should s-see your face!” Noctis manages to say.

“You wanna laugh, huh? Well, I’m gonna give you a reason to laugh, you little shit,” Prompto says just before tackling him, going straight for the armpits as Noctis struggles and gasps for breath.

Retaliation comes in the form of determined fingers to Prompto’s soft belly. They fight and tickle until they roll off of the sofa and onto the floor, hitting arms and calves on the coffee table on the way down.

“Oww,” Prompto winces, rubbing his elbow. “Before I forget, I hope you know I hate you.”

“Pfft,” Noctis scoffs. “As if you could ever hate me,” he grins, standing up to offer Prompto a hand.

“We’ll see about that,” Prompto fires back, letting Noctis pull him to his feet.

They settle down and choose an episode that Noctis only half-watches, too busy catching up with his daily studies.

The afternoon passes with an increasingly exasperated and amazed Prompto as he finds more and more switched-up objects around the house. He threatens Noctis with bodily harm multiple times, but is so caught up in hunting for whatever he’s looking for and restoring what he finds in the process to its rightful place that he forgets to get his laptop and check the forums.

Not that he’d be able to, either way. Noctis thinks with a snicker. That particular object had been his masterpiece: with no clues and no trails to lead to it, the laptop had been hidden deep into the bedside table of the unused master bedroom. It was a bit unfair, he’d admit, but he’d consider it a win if it stopped Prompto from worrying so much about the matter, even if just for a day.

And if Prompto tried to access the forum on his phone, well, then Noctis would have to take that away too, no matter how much the boy whined.

x

Noctis restores everything to its original spots on Tuesday night. When Prompto asks him how the hell he knows where everything was and where it should go back to, Noctis only gives him a cheeky grin and lifts his phone, mentioning a list of some sort.

“Dude, if we ever do an egg hunt or something like that, you’re totally the one hiding them,” Prompto says, with a speck of admiration.

Noctis grins. “Try spending a few centuries as a cat and you’ll see how many nooks and crannies and corners go undiscovered by us humans, and learn to use them in your favor.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Prompto waves a hand dismissively. “But thanks.”

Prompto eventually gets his laptop back, and sees a new message from the same person as before. Though Noctis’ plan had been fairly ingenious, it obviously hadn’t succeeded in making him stay away from the forum altogether; Prompto had taken advantage of the other’s naps to sneak a look at his inbox, just in case.

The message had been received only an hour earlier, something Prompto breathes a sigh of relief at.

Hey! Sorry for making you wait, but I managed to go there today and she agreed to talk to you! Her name is Monica Elshett. She has an office here in Greensboro, North Carolina, and has plenty of experience dealing with magic-related problems and stuff.

The person ends the message with Monica’s phone number and a few seemingly heartfelt well wishes. Prompto enters the number in his phone’s contact list and stares at it.

“Noct?”

Noctis looks up from the bowl of soup in front of him. “Yeah?”

“They replied and gave us the doctor’s number. Said she’ll talk with us.”

Noctis taps his phone to look at the time, and Prompto does the same -- it’s just a little after eight.

“Do you wanna send the message now?”

“Do you think I should? It’s a little late, isn’t it? I don’t want to bother the doctor right off the bat…”

“It’s not super late yet, and I think she’d understand,” Noctis encourages.

Prompto turns the phone in his hands a few times and worries his lip.

“We talk with her a little, and then we talk with the others tomorrow, after we already have the basics down pat. Yeah?”

“Right…”

Noctis gets up, bowl in hand, and plops down next to Prompto. “Take your time to decide what you’re gonna say. There’s no hurry.”

Prompto smiles at his friend for a moment, then goes back to fiddling with his phone. With a sigh, he opens the messaging app and starts to compose a text.

Prompto: Hello, Doctor Elshett! My name is Prompto Argentum, and I believe someone talked with you today and mentioned I was in need of a psychologist.

He shows it to Noctis before sending, resisting the urge to bite at the corner of his nail.

“It looks good. Goes right to the point of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then,” Prompto says, pressing send before he starts to regret it. He watches the corner of the message as it gets first the ‘sent’ tick, then the ‘received’ one.

He turns off the screen after two minutes, refusing to give in to the need to obsessively check it every five seconds. Noctis pats his hair comfortingly before going back to his almost empty bowl.

Prompto almost elbows his phone to the floor when he feels it vibrate, scrambling to unlock it and praying that the new text is from whom he wants it to be.

Monica: Hey there, Prompto! I heard from another client that you might be in need of help, and I'm free now if you want to start right away. But if for any reason you can't at the moment, we can schedule it for another time.

Prompto: I’d like to explain the situation first, if that’s alright. I’m not looking for treatment just for me, there’s around four or five people aside from me who would also benefit from it.

Monica: That’s fine by me. You can give them my number as well, so that they might come to me as they wish.

Prompto: I’ll talk with them and do that. Thank you, by the way, for accepting to help us.

Monica: It’s no problem at all.

Prompto: Okay, so… I trust you’ve heard tales about the Sanderson brothers?

Chapter Text

Prompto: So... That's what happened that night, in a pretty summarized way...

Prompto: We got a few bumps and scratches, but nothing worse than a sore shoulder, which was super lucky of us considering who we went up against

Prompto: Noctis has been living with me ever since.

Monica: First of all, I'm very proud of you for finding the courage to tell me all this. The fact that neither of you had any serious injuries is quite fortunate, but deciding to seek out professional help for psychological wounds takes as much bravery as standing up to such terrible opponents does.

Prompto reaches the end of her message and lowers the phone, closing his eyes to take a deep, shaky breath. He tries to tell himself that it’s done, that he’s finished telling the happenings of That Night, but the memories continue to run amok in his mind -- memories he had done his best to keep inside a box, off at the deepest corner of his consciousness; a container from which he could only free himself of at the very late half of sleepless nights for the past month.

Telling her what happened had been necessary, but that knowledge doesn’t soften the blow; nor does it stop him from remembering the touch of magic upon his skin as the brothers spirited him away to use him as their source of youth. Prompto’s hairs stand on end and his body is flooded with fear at the thought of ever being the target of the brothers’ foul magic again. Tears gather in his eyes as he starts to tremble, so he sets the phone down in order to take another, hopefully calming, breath.

Noctis pulls Prompto even closer in the face of his distress, but it isn’t good enough -- it will take more than an arm around his waist to drive away the dread that settles into Prompto’s bones and makes a home for itself in his organs.

Prompto pulls his legs up and then swings them over Noctis’ thighs, turning towards the other to hide himself in the safest place he knows: the crook of Noctis’ neck. He places his arms around his friend’s waist and clings to the back of his t-shirt, curving his back into a borderline uncomfortable angle to be able to do so. Noctis holds him tight, embracing Prompto’s trembling shoulders and murmuring comforting nothings near his temple.

It takes a few minutes of focusing all of his attention on breathing in and out for the lump in Prompto’s throat to go away. Only then he is able to process what Noctis is actually saying; the repeated reassurances of ‘we’re all safe’ and ‘they’re gone for real’ are a constant in Noctis' comfort repertoire -- one that Prompto does his best to internalize.

He shifts to alleviate some of the building discomfort on his back and Noctis responds to the motion by starting to rub Prompto’s back, starting at the space in between his shoulders and going down to the waistband of Prompto’s pants then back up again; soothing and constant. Prompto sighs and blinks away the remaining tears, maintaining the strong grip he has on the Noctis’ shirt.

“You didn’t have to write all that by yourself,” Noctis whispers into the space above Prompto’s head, who curls even closer in response to the low rumble of his voice. “I could have typed some of it.”

Prompto exhales until his lungs start to scream at him, then inhales. “I know. I could see you trying to offer, but it’s okay. I’d have to do it sooner or later.” he says, shrugging slightly.

Noctis’ embrace tightens for a heartbeat. “...Yeah,” he acquiesces, with the displeasure at the effect such a course of action has had on Prompto clear in his tone.

Prompto draws his legs back and tucks them under his body, leaning more comfortably onto Noctis. They stay silent for a moment; a part of him wanting to feel guilty about leaving the doctor on read for so long, but he reasons that she’d understand his need for a cuddling time-out more than anyone.

“Even if--” Noctis starts then stops, once again pulling Prompto closer --“even if, God forbid, they weren’t truly gone… We’d find a way to defeat them for good, I’m sure of it. And I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Just like that, the tears come back. Prompto wants to say that seeing as the curse has been broken, it’s unlikely that Noctis would come back to life if anything were to happen; he wants to tell Noctis that he’d do something absolutely stupid like letting the brothers have him if it meant Noctis stayed alive and well, but instead he picks up all of these thoughts and swallows them down alongside the reformed lump in his throat.

“I’d protect you first,” Prompto says once he’s able to, his voice reedy and almost inaudible.

“I strongly disagree, but we won’t ever get the chance to test that out, so it’ll just have to be a draw,” Noctis shrugs.

Prompto laughs wetly, sniffling. “A draw it is, then.”

Noctis hums, rubbing circles between Prompto’s shoulder blades and swaying gently from side to side. Prompto briefly loosens his hold in order to raise a hand and wipe away the second wave of tears; once that’s done, he presses his face back onto the wet spot he’s created on Noctis’ collar.

Eventually, he feels alright enough to lean back, just long enough to lay a kiss on Noctis’ jaw, close to his ear -- then he goes back to his previous position. “Thank you,” Prompto says, sighing happily.

Noctis kisses the top of his head in response; Prompto wonders how he does it without getting hair up his nose. “You’re welcome,” Noctis returns the sentiment.

After another minute of silent cuddling, Prompto sighs and draws away. Noctis keeps an arm around his shoulders as Prompto rubs his face vigorously until he feels fully awake again, ready to pick the conversation with Monica back up.

“Okay,” Prompto draws out the word. “We still need to talk about schedules and payment, but then I think we’ll be done for today,” he nods.

“That’s good,” Noctis smiles.

“Yeah, though… I‘m kinda worried about the money thing. I don’t think we have enough to pay for us both, even if her price is unusually low,” Prompto frowns, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. He sees the gears turning in Noctis’ head and speaks up before the other finishes formulating his surely stupid idea. “You staying without is not an option. It’s either both or neither of us, and you cannot change my mind.”

Noctis pouts as Prompto grins victoriously, though he still tries to give his rebuttal. “But--”

“No buts. We’ll figure something out, alright? Trust me.”

Noctis ruffles his hair. “If you’re so sure of it, then I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“That’s the spirit,” Prompto nudges him with a shoulder.

The idea of taking the phone and sending a message after leaving the doctor waiting for so long is a bit nerve wracking, but nowhere near as bad as sending that very first message had been, so Prompto huffs determinedly and reaches for the device.

Back into the fray we go.

x

Prompto sets the phone down once again and sighs in relief, doing his best to release all the tension in his body. “The times for the first sessions are set, payment has been discussed, goodbyes have been said… Unless I’ve accidentally forgotten something major, we’re finally done for the night.”

Noctis smiles and rubs his back twice. “You’ve done very well. I’m kinda proud,” he teases.

Prompto snorts. “Thanks. Do you wanna eat anything? My stomach has been rumbling for the past twenty minutes, but I didn’t want to stop halfway…”

“Is there anything ready?”

Prompto looks up at the ceiling and does a mental list of their last few meals. “I don’t think so, and I’m not in the mood to cook, either. We’ll just have to raid the fridge and pantry,” he grins.

“Whoever makes the most atrocious combo wins?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

x

The following afternoon, Noctis is two-thirds done with reading yet another biology chapter when the door of Prompto’s bedroom opens. He twists himself on the sofa to look and sees his friend coming out of the room, all wrapped up in his cheery yellow blanket, with some of it trailing behind him as the boy makes a beeline to where Noctis is sitting.

He opens his mouth to greet the other, but what comes out is a huff; Prompto exhales sharply after more or less throwing himself atop of Noctis. This close, Prompto’s slightly red nose and puffy eyes become noticeable, as do his quiet, infrequent sniffles, though it doesn’t take very long for such things to be hidden from view by Prompto shoving his face on Noctis’ belly.

Noctis smiles and raises a head to pet his friend’s easily-accessible blonde head, setting the textbook on the ground and starting the familiar -- but still awkward -- process of finding a comfortable position with so many bony limbs involved.

Prompto’s arms find their way around Noctis’ waist after relinquishing their grip on the blanket -- which Noctis promptly kicks into a position that actually covers them both. He lets the silence sit for a few minutes, gently scratching Prompto’s scalp with his blunt nails.

He clears his throat when Prompto lets out a big shuddering sigh. “How did it go?”

Prompto sniffles again, turning his head to the side. “It was okay,” he replies, voice muffled.

“That’s good,” Noctis hums.

His own session with Monica a few hours earlier hadn’t been very noteworthy; Noctis spent most of it giving the therapist a rundown of his life before the curse and answering the questions it spawned. It had stung to talk about Regis, surely -- but after three hundred years, Noctis is pretty sure that’s a wound that will never fully heal.

“I kinda hate that I’m all teary,” Prompto says, adjusting the position of his legs. “We didn’t even get into much detail of anything, which-- I mean, it makes sense, it’s still the first session… And yet I’m here all sniffly and pathetic,” Prompto adds, punctuating it with another of the accursed sniffles.

“I don’t need to tell you that there’s no problem with that, right?”

“I know there isn’t. But I still don’t like it.”

Noctis snickers at the petulance in his tone, ruffling his friend’s hair more playfully. “That’s too bad,” he grins.

Prompto raises his head then, taking the care to not lean too much of his weight on his chin. Noctis’ grin widens at the glimpse of the other’s pout.

“How did yours go?”

Noctis shrugs with one shoulder. “It was nothing to write home about.”

Prompto hums noncommittally. Noctis pulls him up a little, and they shift until Prompto’s using his shoulder as a pillow; in this position, Noctis is free to nose at the blonde strands to his heart’s content.

“I hope she’s able to help us,” Prompto whispers.

“She will,” Noctis affirms, quiet but full of confidence. Prompto presses his smile into Noctis’ neck.

They stay like that for some time, with Noctis drawing patterns on Prompto’s lower back and Prompto exhaling softly on the crook of his neck as the rest of the world falls away.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

“Kinda want to have cocoa, but I don’t wanna move.”

Noctis laughs. “That was a very roundabout way of asking me to make you some,” he says, jostling the other.

Prompto lifts his head again and bats his eyelashes. “Did it work?”

Noctis laughs again, a little louder. “Depends. Are you willing to let me go long enough for me to be able make said cocoa?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

Prompto pouts and whines, putting on a show of petulance worthy of a toddler. “But I’m so comfortable!”

“C’mon, up you go,” Noctis says, pushing himself off the sofa and forcing a protesting Prompto to accompany his motions. “Unless we get some magic involved, the cocoa won’t make itself, so up!”

“I don’t have the kind of fine control necessary to do that yet,” Prompto huffs.

“So we’ll do it the old fashioned way,” Noctis shrugs. He manages to sit up even though Prompto refuses to let go of his waist and grumbles through the entire process.

He drags Prompto up with him upon standing up. It’s incredibly awkward and more than just a little funny, especially when Prompto stops them mid-shuffle with a comical noise of distress.

“My blanket!” he cries, and Noctis turns his head to see half of said yellow blanket on the floor.

“This will be difficult enough without the blanket,” Noctis points out. Prompto mutters under his breath before he picks up the soft, thick fabric with only one hand, depositing it back on the sofa with some struggle in order to keep Noctis standing with the other arm.

“Happy now?”

“As much as I can be, given that I have a clingy blonde hanging onto me who might make us fall on our faces,” Noctis sing-songs.

“We won’t fall,” Prompto says, poking one of Noctis’ lower ribs.

“Alright then,” Noctis shrugs, taking a few, tentative steps in the direction of the kitchen.

Despite all the whining and complaining involved, the cocoa-making goes on pretty smoothly: Prompto stands on his tiptoes to look over Noctis’ shoulder and correct his movements -- much to the latter’s exasperation -- and it takes considerably longer than it should have, but it eventually gets done.

However, Noctis puts his foot down on shuffling back to the sofa carrying two steaming mugs and a Prompto-shaped lump on his back, staring the other down as best he’s able until Prompto steps away with a pout so big that Noctis bursts out laughing on sight.

Prompto frowns at him before going to look for a pack of cookies to have with the hot cocoa, presenting it proudly after having to open three cupboards to finally hit the jackpot.

“Are you satisfied now or must I fulfill any other tasks, oh great magician?” Noctis asks with what could only be called a shit-eating grin.

Prompto childishly sticks out his tongue in response, making a beeline back to the living room without sparing another glance to his laughing friend.

They huddle under the blanket and start eating, taking the utmost care to keep the fabric free of cookie crumbs. It’s early enough that the light spilling through the windows brightens the room sufficiently, though that’s bound to change in another hour or so as the sun gets closer to the horizon.

“I sent a couple texts to Iggy and Gladio,” Prompto says out of the blue, drawing Noctis’ attention away from the window. “About whether we could meet up today? So that we could tell them about the therapy thing and all,” he continues, looking down at his almost-empty mug.

“And?”

“Iggy said he’s free around seven-ish, but Gladio said he doesn’t know if his dad will be home by then, and that he’s gonna ask about it then tell me later,” Prompto mumbles, scratching his cheek. “I considered telling them at school, but then I figured it’d probably be best for Clarus to be there too…”

“Easier to tell them all at once,” Noctis nods. “And Gladio still hasn’t texted you back?”

Prompto shakes his head, biting his lip absentmindedly. Noctis frowns for a moment and raises a hand to tuck a few strands behind Prompto’s ear, smiling when the other meets his eyes.

“He will, eventually. If he takes too long we can ask Iris to kick his ass for us, I’m sure she’d agree without question,” he suggests.

Prompto snickers. “She absolutely would. We could just point her at him and it’s K.O.,” he giggles.

“And in the meantime, we’ll find something to do,” Noctis shrugs, shifting and sinking even more into the cushions. Prompto hums in agreement and sets his mug on the coffee table -- never one to let any cuddling opportunities pass him by.

“I overheard some of my classmates saying it might snow tonight,” he comments a few seconds later, once he’s laying down atop Noctis comfortably for the -- god, Noctis doesn’t even know how many times it’s been already, and they’ve still got the entire rest of the day to go.

He remembers going to sleep on Prompto’s shoulder the previous night, but their positions had been reversed when Prompto got up to go to school in the morning; Noctis has a sneaking suspicion that Prompto waits until he’s asleep for sure before switching them up, the cheeky bastard.

“That’d be the first time this season, right?”

“Yep,” Prompto nods. “Gladio said Iris was all excited about seeing ‘real snow’, so I hope the forecast holds true.”

“We could keep on the lookout for whenever it snows enough for us to play around and set up a proper snowball fight for her,” Noctis grins.

“Oh man, that’d be so cute,” Prompto laughs. “I hope she doesn’t get bummed out by having to wait a little longer for us to get the inches necessary for that.”

“Yeah.”

Noctis’ brows crease in confusion when Prompto starts to snicker with no clear cause some minutes later, and he shakes the other a little to get his attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just,” Prompto giggles, “remembering you, all wet and miserable, meowing at my window at god knows how late cause it had started snowing and you wanted me to let you in,” he explains at last.

“And that’s making you laugh why exactly?”

“You looked so pitiful! And then you’d just stay there shivering and making a small puddle as I fetched a towel and it’s still strange to look back on those memories and realize that you were acting like that because you were actually a human, you know?”

Noctis shrugs. “There was no point in making a mess.”

“And after I got you dry, I’d pick you up and cuddle you close to my chest to warm you up and you’d just purr for the rest of the night,” Prompto smiles, his expression turning wistful. “It’d be so nice if you could still purr,” he adds as an afterthought.

Noctis snorts. “What, the fact that I can cuddle you back now isn’t enough?”

“That’s such a compelling argument, but also: purring.”

“So ungrateful,” Noctis clicks his tongue, removing his arms from around Prompto’s middle. Prompto sticks his tongue out and puts them back in place. Noctis feels something vibrate somewhere near his thigh and Prompto lifts his head.

“I think that was my phone,” he says, patting the area. Noctis wiggles his leg until he feels the edge of the device and directs Prompto to it.

“Anything interesting?”

“One new message from Gladio,” Prompto flashes him a grin, tapping his code and reading it through. “Says his dad will only get home around eight, and that we could go then.”

“And what time is it now?”

Prompto glances at the upper right corner. “Eh, a little over half past four.”

“Good. Means we have time for a nap.”

“Shouldn’t you finish up that chapter you were reading earlier?”

“Shouldn’t you be studying for those exams you said you’d have before winter break?”

Prompto pouts. “That was low.”

“All is fair in love, war and sleep,” Noctis shrugs. Prompto barks out a laugh.

“Pretty sure that’s not how it goes, buddy,” he sing songs.

“It is now.”

“Riiiight.”

“Shhh, it’s sleeping time now.”

“Still so very bossy…”

x

They arrive at Clarus’ some ten minutes before the man himself. Ignis is already there, sitting with Gladio and Iris around the dining table while studying diligently; Noctis joins them and gives Ignis an update on his progress while Prompto draws Iris into a conversation about the possibility of snowing that night.

She recounts the so called ‘snow days’ in the coast of California and the disappointment of getting wet, muddy sludge rather than the powdery white flakes ever so present in movies. Prompto laughs at her pout and pulls up a couple dozen photos from the beginning of the year, including some of a dressed up cat Noctis that leaves her squealing in glee.

“Stop showing everyone my cat photos,” Noctis protests, attempting to hide a grin.

“Never!” Prompto exclaims with a cackle as he continues to swipe through his camera roll.

Prompto avoids answering why he called them all there for a while, changing the subject whenever it comes up until Gladio huffs at him and gets the hint. Ignis gives him an once-over and quirks an eyebrow; Prompto smiles, not at all surprised at how fast his friend had been to connect the dots.

Eventually, Iris pulls Noctis into the living room, wanting to show him a few doll clothes that she’s made; Prompto follows them with his eyes and finally puts the matter of therapy on the table as soon as they’re out of earshot.

Clarus and Gladio stare at him unwaveringly. Prompto fidgets, taking some measure of strength from Ignis’ quiet support.

“And you’re sure this doctor is trustworthy?” Clarus asks in a low voice, glancing in the direction of the living room.

“The person who recommended her said good things, and Dr. Elshett offered to show us her credentials on our first meeting,” Prompto answers carefully. “We’ve only had one session with her so far.”

Clarus rubs his face tiredly and turns to watch Iris. His gaze finds Noctis’, who studies him for a moment before nodding.

“Why don’t you show me where you make them?” Noctis asks loud enough for them to hear, holding up a little green dress.

Iris looks back at where they’re all sitting and her enthusiasm dims at being excluded from the conversation they clearly want to have. Noctis ruffles her hair gently and smiles.

“If you impress me enough, I might let you pick a color to paint my nails with,” he says, sweetening the deal for her. The corners of her mouth begin to curl up.

“Can I do your hair too?”

Noctis makes a show of thinking it over, turning the dress in his hands a few times. “Only if I’m very, very impressed,” he grins at last. She bounces on her heels and claps her hands delightedly.

“You’re on!” she exclaims, running towards the staircase with Noctis in tow.

“I’ll have to thank him for that later,” Clarus comments, a bit wry.

“I’m sure he’ll say it was no problem,” Prompto shrugs. He busies himself with straightening out a stack of books while the others mull over what they’ve been given.

“I have to admit that it’s a good idea,” Clarus says, looking down at his hands. “It’s a damn good idea. Practically necessary, even, if I’m being completely honest here, but I’m gonna need to talk with this doctor myself before I trust her with taking care of my little girl.”

Prompto blinks and smiles despite himself at the protectiveness. “We can set it up, no problem. I’ll send you her contact details and you can ask her as many questions as you’d like.”

“Good,” Clarus nods. “Because I want my baby to get over this in a way that’s healthy, and Lord knows I could use the help too,” he sighs. Gladio puts a comforting hand on his dad’s shoulder and keeps his head down.

Prompto looks at Ignis next; his friend adjusts his glasses and smooths a hand over the table, stringing up the right words in his mind.

“I’ve already spoken with my uncle on the matter of therapy,” Ignis tells them. “He has given me the go-ahead to find one I like and said he has no problems with paying for it, so I will most likely send her a message as soon as possible,” he explains.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Prompto smiles.

“That reminds me,” Clarus pipes up, and the intensity of his gaze makes Prompto fidget instantly. “I don’t know your financial status and I won’t pry, but I want to know if you boys can afford it comfortably.”

Prompto can’t help it -- he winces a little. “We can? Kind of.”

Clarus exhales a near-huff. “I know you don’t feel right with accepting the full extent of the help we want to give you--”

“There’s no need! Truly!” Prompto cuts him off, feeling his cheeks heat up. “We made a kind of deal with her and we won’t have to pay the full price for both of us, which was really kind of her, so really, we can manage,” he stresses, wringing his hands anxiously. “My parents send us enough money that we aren’t gonna have to cut down anything in order to afford it, so, really…”

“I get it,” Clarus says, waving a hand. “And I’m happy to hear it ain’t gonna give you boys trouble, but I still want to pay the difference.”

Prompto opens his mouth a few times but the words fail to come out, so he keeps twisting his hands and bouncing his leg instead.

“She deserves to be paid her time’s worth for the job she’s doing, it won’t be a problem for me to do it and I want to do it,” Clarus insists in a gentler tone. “I know we can’t say it for sure because we have no way of going back in time and testing it, but the fact that my kids are home, safe and unharmed today instead of possibly six feet under is at least in part thanks to you and that boy,” he says, tilting his head in the general direction of Iris’ room. “I will be forever grateful for that, and this is the way I choose to show it, so you’re gonna have to accept it.”

Ignis pulls Prompto close when tears begin to gather at his eyes, squeezing his shoulder soothingly as Prompto flails for words.

“I don’t know what to say,” is what he settles on after a few beats, doing his best to wipe away the stubborn tears that cling to his lashes.

“Then don’t say a thing and just let me do this,” Clarus shrugs. Prompto looks at Gladio for help, but the boy shrugs as well -- his dad’s enabler, true to form.

Prompto sniffles. “I’ll talk with her tomorrow.”

“Good. Now come over here and let me give you a proper hug,” the man grins, standing up with his arms open wide, making Prompto laugh wetly.

“Thank you,” Prompto whispers into the embrace, savouring the feeling of being entirely engulfed by it. Gladio and Ignis join not too long after and Prompto shrieks at being surrounded by all sides, especially when they start poking his ribs to make him laugh.

“You’re welcome,” Clarus tells him once the hug ends, squeezing his shoulder once. “You can run along to join Iris and Noctis now; the rest of us will whip up some dinner,” he grins.

“I can stay and help,” Prompto protests.

“I’ve got two helpers already, and Iris could use another test subject,” Clarus shakes his head. “Go on and I’ll drop the two of you and my future son-in-law home after we eat.”

“Dad!” Gladio exclaims with a quickly-reddening face.

“What? You think your old man is blind?”

Ignis coughs delicately and turns his face to the side; Prompto grins impishly at the glimpse of pink he’s able make out in his usually-composed friend’s cheeks. Gladio stomps off to the fridge, grumbling under his breath about nosy dads and ill-timed remarks.

Prompto ducks out of the room in the aftermath, stifling giggles with a hand and catching Clarus’ immensely pleased grin right before he makes his escape.

x

Prompto knocks on the half-opened door to Iris’ room and waits for her permission to enter, smiling at the sight that greets him on the other side.

“Hey,” he says, taking his phone out from his pocket and taking a photo of Noctis with his hair all over the place and nails in the process of being done; looking absolutely comfortable while leaning against Iris’ bed as the girl gets ready to apply the next coat.

“Was that really necessary?” Noctis asks, blowing a lock of hair away from his face.

“Totally,” Prompto grins. “It’s one for the album, even.”

“Jerk,” Noctis rolls his eyes.

“What do you think?” Iris asks, bouncing a little in her seat and gesturing to Noctis’ hands.

Prompto studies the midnight blue polish covering his friend’s nails and nods his approval. “I like it,” he says. “But his hair still needs some work,” he snickers.

“I was gonna do baby blue at first, but lighter colors are hard and I wasn’t looking for a challenge,” she explains.

“That’s very valid,” Prompto agrees, pushing away a few dolls in order to be able to sit next to Noctis. He sighs and leans his head on his friend’s shoulder, taking the care to leave Iris plenty of space to continue her work.

“You okay? Kinda looks like you’ve been crying,” Noctis asks him in a whisper once Iris starts to apply the next layer.

“Mm. Clarus was being too nice again, I couldn’t help it,” Prompto mumbles. Noctis knocks their heads together very gently, shifting to present Iris his other hand.

“But you’re good now, right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto exhales. “Today has been a Day,” he chuckles. Noctis hums his agreement and turns his head to lay a kiss on Prompto’s head.

“A few more hours and it’ll be over,” he says.

“Indeed.”

After a couple more minutes and a final once-over, Iris declares Noctis’ nails done.

“Now, keep them in place for a while for it to dry, okay? It’s super easy for it to get messed up right after finishing,” she warns him. “And I know you said I could do your hair, but I think I’m gonna leave that for another day…”

“I wish you good luck for when you do,” Prompto teases, reaching up and sinking his hands on Noctis’ ridiculously soft hair, making it spike in every direction and laughing as some stick and others fall flat. “It’s gonna take a lot of hair gel for it to obey to you,” he tells Iris.

“Rude,” Noctis says, blowing a raspberry at Prompto.

“The only thing that sticks for him is bed hair,” Prompto continues, ignoring the other completely.

“You’re one to talk.”

Iris giggles when Prompto blows a raspberry as well, then her demeanor becomes a little bashful. “Can I do yours too?” she asks, pointing at Prompto’s nails.

Prompto blinks and looks at the colors she has. “Sure thing. What do you have in mind?”

“Purple! I have this really nice violet that Gladdy gave me,” she says, presenting the bottle in question. Prompto turns it in his hands.

“It’s a nice shade, yeah. I approve of it,” he smiles.

“Great! Lemme just clean up and I’ll start right away!”

“There’s no need to hurry,” Prompto tells her, sharing a grin with Noctis and finding a more comfortable position to sit on.

“It’ll look super good, I promise,” she enthuses, rearranging her makeshift workplace.

“I have no doubt of that.”

x

It’s half past midnight by the time Noctis and Prompto finally shut down Netflix and decide it’s time to go to sleep. They drag their sleepy selves to the bathroom and take turns brushing their teeth with closed eyes, leaning against the sink and needling each other.

While going to the kitchen for a last cup of water, Prompto looks out of the window and blinks drowsily until his brain makes sense of the information his eyes are perceiving.

“Noct, the forecast was right,” he says, finding in himself the energy to smile. “It’s snowing.”

“And I’m already inside, so I won’t have to claw at your window this year,” Noctis snarks. Prompto laughs.

“I’d say ‘let the cuddling season begin’, but…”

“It’s been going strong for a month already,” Noctis shrugs.

“Pretty much.”

“C’mon,” Noctis insists, pulling him away from the window. “We’ve got a bed full of blankets just waiting for us to become burritos in it.”

Prompto chuckles and lets himself be dragged along. “Time for maximum coziness.”

“I dare say it is the most wonderful time of the year.”

Surprise rips a high-pitched giggle from Prompto, who is quick to cover his mouth with a hand.

“That was terrible and you should feel bad.”

“I shall do no such thing.”

Prompto shakes his head. “Absolutely dreadful.”

“And yet you still laughed,” Noctis shrugs, pulling a corner of the covers up and sliding onto the bed.

“Only because I wasn’t expecting it,” Prompto argues, following suit.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Prompto nods, tangling their legs together and tucking in the blankets around them.

“Dork,” Noctis smiles, sleepy and lopsided, drawing Prompto closer with an arm around his waist.

“So are you,” Prompto yawns, curling up against the other and closing his eyes.

Noctis’ answering hum is the last thing he remembers before sleep claims them both.

Chapter Text

Prompto’s first alarm sounds out at 6:02 on Friday morning, as it does every school day. The cheery anime opening that Prompto had chosen to be his alarm tone two years ago does its best to wake him, going against nearly impossible odds for the fifth and last time that week.

He frees an arm from Noctis’ hold and reaches under the pillow, flipping his phone on its screen to get it to snooze. Noctis’ fingers twitch against Prompto’s ribs as the latter takes a deep breath and snuggles into the other, his eyes still closed.

It takes Prompto a while to consciously register the pitter-patter of droplets hitting his window; he pauses to wonder if it had rained all night or if it had started back up recently, unable to decide which one makes him want to stay in bed more. The sun won’t rise for another hour, so today’s trip to school will most likely be wet, chilly and utterly miserable -- just thinking about it is enough to make Prompto press closer to Noctis’ warm body.

At 6:07, the alarm rings again; Prompto moves a little more after snoozing it this time, smiling when Noctis’ arm around his torso tightens its grip reflexively. He wills his eyes to open and blinks slowly, but though he tries valiantly to keep them open, they inevitably fall back shut after a couple of seconds.

At 6:12, Prompto feels the bed shift before he tells his arm to move and is totally confused for the brief second it takes to realize that Noctis is the one moving -- and then he remembers that Noctis mustn’t be allowed to succeed in his current endeavour, lest Prompto ends up arriving at school twenty minutes late, earning yet another scolding in the process.

Prompto moves fast to take the phone out of its usual spot under the pillow, pressing snooze and shoving the device in the narrow space at waist height in between his body and Noctis’. The alarm makes it vibrate like crazy -- a way to annoy him awake if the fairly loud music fails to do so -- so Prompto knows it will still do its job even in such an unusual place.

Noctis mumbles an incoherent protest, squeezing Prompto and turning on his side to go full octopus. Prompto mumbles back, equally incoherent; lets his left hand rest against Noctis’ chest, taking full advantage of the sleepy haze blanketing them.

The next snooze passes without a hitch, but the 6:22 alarm sees Noctis attempting to grab Prompto’s phone again. Hitching Prompto’s shirt up the barest bit, Noctis runs his fingers over the very sensitive skin just under Prompto’s belly button -- which tickles like hell and makes Prompto twitch away -- thus lowering his guard and giving Noctis access to the previously hidden away phone.

The device vibrates merrily through the whole ordeal; Noctis makes it shut up as soon as his hand closes around it. The sudden light of the screen forces Prompto’s eyes shut, but previous experience means he already knows what Noctis is up to.

“Don’t you dare,” he says. Noctis stays silent. “I have exams comin’ up, I can’t miss class,” Prompto whines.

Not too long after, the light disappears and Noctis shoves the phone back under the pillow. His friend turns and embraces him properly once again, throwing a leg over Prompto’s for good measure; Prompto protests, fully aware that Noctis means to hold him in place until Prompto gives up on going to school -- or until Prompto finds a sweet enough bribe.

Little does Noctis know that after the last time he did this, Prompto set up a new alarm for 6:41, with a much shriller song -- in case Prompto accidentally overslept or Noctis managed to grab his phone again. Prompto has been pretty good at getting up before that in the past few days, so unless Noctis has gone snooping around his alarms list, the other is still unaware of what’s in store.

So Prompto simmers down and waits patiently, running through a mental list of tasks for the day ahead.

When the second alarm rings -- louder, still vibrating, and with the phone much closer to Noctis’ head than it usually is -- his friend curses and scoots away from it, scrambling for the device to make it shut up while he ignores Prompto’s giggles.

Those giggles become a more substantial laugh when Noctis clings to him with vengeance, fully encircling Prompto’s waist and hiding his face in the space above Prompto’s collarbone. Prompto pats his head and thinks of what he can bribe the other with.

“I should start calling you Noctopus,” Prompto remarks airily. “It’s got a nice ring to it, way nicer than any mashup of ‘Noctis’ and ‘koala’ could have.”

Noctis hums noncommittally. Prompto cards his fingers through his friend’s glorious bedhead, deciding to appeal to Noctis’ reason one last time before he lays out the bribes.

“Noct, please let me up?” he asks with his best pleading voice. “I’ve got tons of assignments to finish and at least one teacher is gonna give us a review today, I really can’t miss it,” he adds. Noctis remains unresponsive.

Prompto sighs. “You’re really hard to bargain with, did you know that? I wonder how you’ll manage to get up for school yourself next year,” he says, poking the other’s arm. “Maybe I should kick you back to the sofa -- that way, you won’t be able to hold me in place anymore.”

“Can’t kick me back there if I’ve never spent a full night on it,” Noctis speaks up at last, voice muffled by their position and still a bit slurred from sleep. Prompto frowns, thinking back on the previous month, letting out a low ‘huh’ when he realizes Noctis is right.

“I must have stopped asking for you to join me at some point, but I seriously can’t remember when that happened,” Prompto frowns. “Eventually you just came with me automatically.”

“Can’t ask me to come over if I’m already here,” Noctis hums, then yawns. “Plus, your bed is comfier.”

Prompto smiles and tucks a few loose strands behind Noctis’ ear. Admittedly, it takes him a minute too long to remember what he had been attempting to do, and he huffs in frustration when it comes back to him.

“Don’t get me sidetracked!” Prompto says, shoving at his friend slightly. Noctis snickers. “I seriously have to go to school!”

“Don’t wanna,” Noctis declares airily, plastering himself to Prompto’s front.

Prompto groans. “Okay, what do you want? Do you want me to leave some hot cocoa on a thermos for you? I can do that, just let me go before I get really late.”

Noctis tilts his head up to meet Prompto’s gaze; Prompto sees his considering pout and scrambles for something to sweeten the deal.

“I can buy some of that candy you like on the way home,” Prompto says hurriedly just as Noctis opens his mouth. The barely-gone pout returns in full force, with a dash of petulance.

“Fine,” Noctis mutters grumpily, loosening his octopus hold at long last.

“Finally,” Prompto thanks the heavens, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Noctis’ head before extricating himself from the bed and almost running to the bathroom, mentally counting down the minutes until the bus passes through his street.

x

Prompto, Gladio and Ignis find themselves exiled at a corner of the library during lunch break -- their usual spot outside made off-limits by the persistent drizzle. Ignis whips out a timetable with the due dates of all the assignments the teachers have been piling onto them; Prompto and Gladio listen halfheartedly, not even trying to hide their disgust at the amount of work to be done.

“Anyway, how would you guys feel about a possible trip to an ice rink?” Gladio asks once Ignis is done. Prompto snickers unabashedly.

“When are you thinking?” Ignis says, smoothing a hand over their latest assignment.

“Maybe this weekend? Iris heard some classmates talking about it and got the urge to go,” Gladio shrugs and takes a sip of his water bottle. “And before you even think of lecturing us on ‘the importance of studying for our upcoming exams’, I wanna remind you we gotta have some fun as well,” he adds in response to Ignis’ raised eyebrow.

Ignis sighs. “I vote for Saturday, then,” he concedes, earning himself a kiss on the cheek from Gladio.

“I’ll check with Noct just to be sure, but I’m game,” Prompto grins. “Where are we going?”

“I think the name is Salem Ice Center? Somewhere downtown.”

The name sparks a memory for Prompto, and he turns to Ignis. “Hey Iggy, isn’t that where you trained?”

Gladio perks up at the question, brows furrowing as he takes turns with staring at them both, faintly accusing.

“It is,” Ignis nods.

“You skate?” Gladio prods, tone a touch incredulous.

“Dude, yeah,” Prompto laughs. “Figure skates. Gotta tell you, it’s strange to see someone in real life doing the things you see on competitions and what not,” he continues, jostling one of Ignis’ legs with his own.

Ignis blushes faintly. “Oh, come now, it’s not that special. Professional skaters are on an entirely different level.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty good yourself,” Prompto insists.

“I didn’t know you skated-- sorry, figure skated,” Gladio mutters. Prompto detects a faint sprinkle of hurt in his words, smothered half to death under loads of forced neutrality.

“Oops,” Prompto whispers, quietly scooting away from his two friends and taking out his phone to give them a measure of privacy-- he does not want to intrude on whatever conversation they’re about to have.

So he opens Noctis’ chat instead.

Prompto: noooooooooct

Noctis: yeah?

Prompto: howd you feel bout going ice skatin probably on saturday?

Noctis: with the others?

Prompto: yeah, it was iris’ idea

Prompto: i kind of accidentally revealed that iggy used to practice figure skating before this whole mess happened and apparently gladio hadnt known that, so im here like o o p s

Noctis: oof

Prompto: yeah dude no kidding

Prompto: have u had lunch already?

Noctis: yup

Noctis: don’t forget my candy (๑`^´๑)

Prompto: how could i ever, your highness

Prompto keeps on texting Noctis until the bell rings; once it does, he types a quick good-bye and gathers up his stuff, giving a quick smile to the others and receiving nods in return before they make their way out of the library.

x

Saturday dawns blissfully clear, if a bit chilly. Their plan was to meet up at Clarus’ to prepare some snacks and head over to the rink around late afternoon, so they get to sleep in for as long as they want -- something that the sleep monster known as Noctis is positively delighted about.

They alternate between lazing around and halfheartedly studying until it’s time for them to leave. Prompto chooses a barely-used winter coat of his -- one that had been on the very edge of too loose for his taste -- and passes it on to Noctis, laughing as his friend stumbles to put it on and taking advantage of the situation to loop a scarf around Noctis’ hair, not even attempting to restrain his amusement in response to the other’s exasperation.

Once plenty of snacks and hot cocoa have been made and stored away in their bags, the group piles onto Clarus’ car to go to the Center. Iris rambles excitedly about the stories she had heard from her classmates during the week, looking adorable in her puffy coat and pompom hat. 

She panics briefly after learning that Ignis is bringing his own skates, wondering if all of them should have bought and brought their own pairs and whether or not they would be able to skate. In response to that, Ignis chuckles, calmly explaining that there are dozens of skates to be rented at the entrance, so there’s no need to worry.

It doesn’t take long for them to find a parking spot, fork over the entry fee and enter the building. Ignis changes into his skates as the others wait for the lady to come back with their rentals, then goes over what to do and what not to do while skating as the rest walks around gingerly to test how well the shoes fit them.

They stuff their bags and previous shoes into two available lockers and slowly make their way to the rink proper. Ignis is -- unsurprisingly -- the first to step onto the ice after doing his usual warm-ups.

“Hey Ignis,” Iris starts, staring at the ice, “does knowing how to roller skate help with ice skating?”

Ignis thinks for a moment. “I believe it does, if you use a rollerblade; though I can’t say for sure given that I’ve never roller skated myself.”

Clarus perks up. “Is that so? Well then, baby girl, I believe we have an advantage,” he grins, nudging Iris playfully.

She nods excitedly, laughing when Gladio groans. “Bet you’re gonna regret not learning how to roller skate with me now,” she teases.

“Shut up, squirt,” Gladio mumbles with a frown.

Ignis steadies Iris when she finally steps into the rink, helping her make her way to the wall. He stands close while Clarus follows suit, watching as father and daughter take their first stumbling steps, dredging up past experience to see what works and what they’ll have to learn anew.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Gladio complains when it’s his turn. The corners of Ignis’ mouth curl up just for a second -- Prompto blinks and the other’s expression is back to neutrality.

Prompto goes next, then Noctis is the only one left. Prompto skates in small circles to get used to being on the ice again and returns to the entrance after realizing his friend still hasn’t joined them.

He can’t contain a snicker upon seeing the distrusting glare Noctis is sending towards the ice. “What’s the matter, Noct?”

“I’m not looking forward to falling on my ass,” Noctis hisses, every inch a bristled cat. Prompto laughs out loud.

“Don’t be like that,” Prompto encourages. “I’m gonna stick around to help you; it’s gonna be fun,” he grins.

Noctis’ glare turns to Prompto for a moment, but he still accepts the invitation of his extended hand, stepping into the rink very carefully. Prompto nods to show his approval and pulls the other a little closer, making a sound of warning when Noctis stiffens up.

“Now, remember what Ignis said: moving too rigidly will make falling more likely,” he says. “Relax, keep your knees slightly bent and try to figure out how to move around.”

Noctis huffs and does his best to follow the instructions he’s been given -- very slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto sees Clarus and Iris step away from the safety of the wall.

It takes quite some time for Noctis to figure out how to move forward instead of just shuffling his feet ineffectively, but he gets there eventually. Prompto notes that the other has a pretty solid sense of balance; though he has slipped a handful of times, Noctis has yet to fall outright -- unlike Gladio.

“How the hell aren’t you falling?” Gladio asks when Noctis’ slow laps take them near him and the ever-suffering Ignis.

Noctis smirks and raises his head. “I’m just that good, I guess,” he shrugs as Prompto snorts.

“I believe the saying is that cats always fall on their feet,” Ignis quips, eyes twinkling. This time, Gladio’s the one to snort, while Prompto laughs.

“How many falls has it been already?” Prompto asks Ignis.

“At this point, I’ve realized that keeping track is a fruitless endeavour,” Ignis shakes his head, then smirks a little. “Seventeen.”

Now Noctis and Prompto both laugh while Gladio rambles about non-supportive boyfriends and traitorous friends.

“I guess you’ve got your hands full,” Prompto teases.

“Most certainly,” Ignis mock-sighs. “And so do you,” he adds with a slightly raised eyebrow and a lightning-fast pointed look at Prompto and Noctis’ hands, still intertwined. Prompto gets the hint and looks away, resisting the urge to awkwardly scratch his nape lest he appears even more suspicious. He gives Noctis’ hand a brief, light squeeze almost without noticing, nearly jumping when Noctis reacts by brushing his thumb over Prompto’s knuckles just once -- right there in front of Ignis.

Iris, bless her heart, chooses that exact moment to zoom past them, sticking out her tongue at her brother -- who has yet to get up after his last brush with the ice. Gladio grimaces in the aftermath.

“I am not looking forward to the upcoming bruises,” he says.

Prompto gets an idea to get Ignis off his back -- even if just momentarily -- and grins maliciously. “Bet you wish your ass was sore for a different reason,” he teases, cackling when both Ignis and Gladio turn beet-red nearly instantly. Noctis lets out an abrupt little laugh, caught by surprise by such a daring comment, which makes Prompto’s grin widen.

“You--! What do you think-- Oi, get back here! Just wait until I get my hands on you!” Gladio hollers, frantically trying to get back on his feet as Prompto drags Noctis away, not at all apologetic.

“You’d have to catch me first!” Prompto challenges, pulling Noctis to the opposite side of the rink before drifting to a stop, still cackling.

They do a few more laps at a leisurely pace, passing by the others from time to time and going to the center of the rink once or twice. Prompto tires of the low speed eventually; Noctis startles when he turns, countenance suddenly serious.

“So you’d say you know how to go around well enough now, right?” he asks.

Noctis frowns at the twinkle in his eyes. “I guess?”

Prompto grins brilliantly, links arms with Noctis -- making sure that his grip is secure -- and enjoys the look the other sends his way.

“Then it’s time to go fast,” Prompto announces, giving no further warning before he takes off as fast as he is able while pulling someone along. Noctis curses, trying to stop him or at least slow them down, but it’s no use; Prompto is determined, and Noctis has no choice but to do his best to keep up.

Prompto goes around the rink with Noctis in tow four times; the other complains profusely on the first, telling Prompto to quit it or else, but whines less and less until he becomes somewhat suspiciously quiet near the end. They almost crash into other people a handful of times, but the frequency of that decreases once Noctis finally starts to match Prompto’s strides on the ice.

They stop to catch their breath after the fourth lap. Prompto clutches the rink’s barrier, shaking slightly due to the sudden exertion; when he turns to Noctis to see how his friend is doing, his expression immediately turns into a bright, satisfied grin.

Noctis’ cheeks are flushed and his hair is mussled; Prompto can see that he’s fighting a grin of his own, due to the way the corners of his mouth tremble and his eyes sparkle.

“Admit it, that was super fun,” Prompto gloats. Noctis huffs and looks away, mumbling something that Prompto can’t discern. “You can’t hide it Noct, your face gives you away,” he singsongs.

Noctis scowls playfully. “I wish still you gave me some warning.”

Prompto laughs. “As if you’d have agreed! It was painful to see you all slow and careful, we’re supposed to have fun in here.”

Noctis rolls his eyes but stops containing his grin. The next second, the other’s hands are on Prompto’s hair, ruffling it vigorously and ruining its style no matter how loudly Prompto protests.

“That was my revenge,” Noctis declares, ignoring Prompto’s pout. “And yeah, it was nice,” he admits at last. Prompto smiles.

Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto sees Iris approaching them; she takes advantage of the proximity between Noctis and Prompto to lace arms with both of them, greeting them with a big smile.

“Hello there,” Prompto greets back. “What brings the lady Iris to our humble corner?”

Iris giggles briefly, then grins. “Let’s race!”

“Oh, you wanna race us? Well, I’m all for it, but I can’t say the same for this slow poke,” Prompto teases, pointing at Noctis with a shrug.

Noctis ruffles Prompto’s hair yet again, obliterating any semblance of order that had survived the previous attack.

“Don’t listen to this loser,” Noctis says once he’s done, pushing Prompto away with a hand on his face when the boy protests. “I’m in too.”

Iris lets out a whoop of joy and leads them to what she’s decided will be the starting point. They pass by Ignis -- who refuses their invitation to their race after sending a look at his boyfriend -- and a very wobbly Gladio, who looks seconds away from going back to the ice’s merciless embrace.

They find Clarus at the starting point, with his phone out and all set to record their race -- with the additional role of referee, if one is needed. Iris explains that they’ll do three laps around the rink, and the first to complete the third lap wins -- nothing too fancy. The two of them nod their agreement, then proceed to ask if sabotage is allowed; Clarus shrugs and says that it is, with a fatherly reminder to be careful.

Prompto, Noctis and Iris get into position and wait for Clarus’ signal. Prompto studies the rest of the rink for a moment, noting the amount of people -- thankfully, not too many -- and checking if there are any wall-clingers to side-step on the way.

Clarus calls out the start of the race and Iris zooms past them -- smaller, lighter and taking full advantage of her roller skating experience to leave them in the figurative dust. Noctis and Prompto stay a few paces behind, clutching at one another’s sleeves and holding the other by the back of their shirts when it seems one will finally get past the other, complaining and grinning and taunting.

They complete two laps in this manner; halfway through the third one, Noctis gives Prompto’s shirt a vicious pull in an attempt to at least guarantee second place for himself -- but when Prompto overbalances and starts to fall, he grabs the nearest thing to try and right himself, succeeding only in bringing Noctis down with him.

Prompto hits his funny bone on the way down and curses loudly; inertia and the lack of friction has them slide a fair distance and crash onto the barrier on the nearest curve. Prompto clutches his arm and resists the urge to kick his legs out, lest he chip away some of the ice accidentally or hit some unlucky soul with the skating blades.

He sees Noctis sit up and wince, clutching one side of his hips. “Oww,” he complains. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault??” Prompto asks, incredulous. “You’re the one that made me fall in the first place!”

“And you’re the one that asked if we could use sabotage, for starters!”

“Still not my fault that you chose to do it,” Prompto mutters. “Iris didn’t.”

“Yeah, cause she doesn’t need it,” Noctis rolls his eyes, then pokes him. “And what was I supposed to do, just let you hinder me with no consequences?”

“Yeah?”

Noctis stares at him in clear disbelief for two seconds, then attacks Prompto’s sides until the boy is near tears from laughing too much.

“I’d have asked if you boys are alright, but the answer is clearly a yes if you’re bickering like that,” Clarus remarks amusedly. By his side, Iris grins at their antics.

“I won!” she proclaims, gloating a little.

“That you did, buddy,” Prompto nods. “Congrats!”

“You are very obviously the best of us,” Noctis agrees, making Iris blush and giggle.

They stick together for some more time, talking and skating lazily. Prompto uses this time to snap away a few photos of everyone -- some spontaneous, some with warning. Noctis and Prompto kneel on the floor and squish Iris in between them for a handful of silly selfies, making faces at the camera as Clarus watches them fondly.

“Man, I’m beat,” Prompto announces, making a show of wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. “I’d suggest that we get off the rink and eat, but I don’t think I’m coming back here if I leave and we haven’t seen Ignis show off some of his figure skating moves yet, so that would be a travesty.”

“He’s been too busy babysitting Gladio to show us his tricks, huh,” Noctis notes, looking in the direction of the two boys in question.

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees. “We should take custody of Gladio and beg him to do it.”

“Good idea,” Clarus nods, setting out to collect his son.

Ignis smiles graciously when they all whine and beg for him to do a few jumps and spins, thankfully happy enough to indulge their requests. They go to an empty corner of the rink and wait as Ignis does a few laps to get into the swing of things and acquire some momentum, ooh-ing and aw-ing at all the appropriate moments so as to cheer him on with enthusiasm.

Once he’s done all that is possible due to the amount of people at the public rink (as opposed to what he could do at a training one), they shuffle out, collecting their bags and changing back into their normal shoes before heading to the little café at a corner of the building. They pick a table on the back so they can start opening their bags to arrange the food and drinks on its surface, depositing them at their feet once they’re empty to make space for everything.

They spend the first few minutes talking about things related to ice skating, with the topic eventually shifting into another, then to more random subjects -- whatever comes to mind. During a lull in the conversation, Clarus stops shovelling food into his mouth long enough to ask the boys how they’re doing at school.

Gladio and Prompto both groan exaggeratedly, uncaring of the half-full status of their mouths. Ignis and Noctis smile at their antics, sharing a knowing, fond look. Ignis is the one to answer the question, giving Clarus a considerably abridged list of what they still have to do before winter break begins.

Once the table goes quiet again, Clarus turns to Noctis. “What about you?” he asks, genuinely interested, then curses briefly under his breath. “Nevermind that, I forgot that you aren’t in school for a moment,” he says, looking sheepish.

Noctis shrugs. “It’s alright,” he smiles. “Prompto talks about what he has to do at school so much that even I forget that sometimes,” he jokes.

Prompto stares at Noctis with a small frown as cogs turn inside his skull. “It’s just occurred to me that you’ve never done a school test,” he muses, then squints. “Wait, you haven’t, right? Did they have exams in the early 18th century?”

Noctis snorts. “Not really; public education wasn’t much of a concern back then. But I was homeschooled since I was very young, so the concept isn’t completely foreign to me.”

Gladio looks on with interest. “And how was that? Homeschooling back then, I mean?”

“Lots of tutors and some subjects that are definitely not part of today’s curriculum,” Noctis explains. “My family was very well off, so there were lessons on how to run a business and the like, as it was expected. Philosophy, mathematics, natural history -- a favorite of my dad’s -- along with horseback riding, hunting, and the occasional ‘how to survive out in the wild’ class.”

“Woah,” Prompto breathes out; a glance around their table lets him know that he’s speaking for most of them -- even Ignis seems a little impressed.

Noctis’ cheeks turn into a soft pink due to all the sudden attention, so he tilts his head forward, letting his bangs hide part of his face. “What?” he asks, almost sullenly.

Ignis clears his throat. “I don’t think it will ever stop being strange to hear you speak of your life from before,” he replies.

“That’s quite an impressive curriculum,” Gladio notes.

Noctis shrugs dismissively. “It was nothing short of expected for ‘someone of my social status’,” he says, making little air quotes with his hands.

“What, were you a noble or something?” Prompto asks, on the edge of teasing. He had already known that Noctis’ family was wealthy back then, but the way he’s speaking about it now makes it impossible to resist the urge to tease.

Noctis smirks. “Well…”

“No way!” Prompto protests.

Noctis laughs. “It really depends on what you consider ‘nobility’ to be. We were one of the most prominent families in Salem back then, but we didn’t have, like, a title from the Crown. Dad told me that we used to -- I think my grandfather was an earl or a viscount back in Britain -- but that he abandoned the title when he came to the colony, so I inherited no fancy names.”

Prompto gapes at him. At the other side of the table, Gladio does the same.

“Are you fucking with me?” Gladio asks, incredulous. Clarus frowns at him.

“Mind your language,” he reminds his son, receiving a quick apology for the slip-up.

“Are you telling me that the guy that has been smothering me half to death in my sleep pretty much every night is a noble??” Prompto frowns. Gladio snickers at the question, and Iris looks on with a small grin.

Noctis snorts and bumps shoulders with him. “I literally just told you that I inherited no fancy nobility titles ‘cause my dad rejected them,” he reminds Prompto, voice fond.

“Yeah, but your dad was born with them, wasn’t he? Dunno about you, but that means you’re a noble to me,” Gladio says.

“Do I get anything for having basically adopted you?” Clarus asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“I believe it doesn’t work that way,” Ignis offers. “Titles pass from parent to child, not the other way around,” he adds with a note of amusement, smiling when Clarus pretends to be disappointed.

Prompto startles a bit when he finally remembers what he had been meaning to suggest after asking if Noctis had ever sat an exam. “Oh!” he exclaims, effectively gathering the attention of all the others. “We got, like, super sidetracked there, but I was gonna say that we should make some mock exams for Noct,” he says excitedly. “They’re probably pretty different from the ones of his time, and ours usually cover a lot of stuff at once, so I thought it’d be a nice way to get used to what’s coming!”

Gladio groans, letting his head fall forward and hit the table. “We already have our own to worry about, and you wanna add more stuff to our plate?” he protests. Ignis, on the other hand, looks intrigued.

“That would indeed be a good idea,” he muses. “It would let us know how far along he’s gotten in the past month as well, and we can use that to plan for next year,” he nods, looking at Prompto. “A fine idea.”

Prompto tries not to preen. He probably fails, if Noctis’ snicker is any indication.

“But we’re going to do it now? With our own tests breathing down our necks?” Gladio asks skeptically.

Ignis fumbles minutely -- Prompto barely notices it, and he’s been friends with Ignis for three years strong.

“You’re right, I suppose. It wouldn’t do to let our own grades suffer to proceed with this project,” he acquiesces, frowning at his cup of -- by now lukewarm -- cocoa. “Noct, would you have any issues with doing those exams in the days before Christmas? Winter break will have started by then, but we can always move it to January if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Noctis shrugs. “Not at all. Do whatever you think it’s best.”

Ignis smiles and nods; Prompto watches him tap a new note into existence in his phone, ever the organized one.

Prompto looks over their table, realizing that they have finished eating in the midst of all that talking. “You guys ready to head back home?” he asks, starting to stuff the tupperwares he had brought back into his bag with Noctis’ help.

“I am!” Iris calls out from her place in between Gladio and Clarus. “Daddy promised we’d watch a movie once we got back,” she smiles, kicking her legs.

“That I did,” Clarus confirms. “What about you boys; do you wanna come over?”

“If you’ll have me,” Ignis smiles.

“You don’t even have to doubt that we would,” Clarus shakes his head. Ignis’ smile grows.

“I think we’ll go home instead, right Noct?” Prompto suggests, throwing an arm around Noctis’ shoulders.

“Sure,” Noctis shrugs.

“I’ll drop the two of you off,” Clarus offers. Prompto gives him a thumbs-up.

After they all gather their things, Ignis wipes down the table, throwing the crumbs from their pastries into one of his containers. They pat their pockets, then look at one another until everyone is ready to leave, shuffling out of the Ice Center while talking and laughing, considering the day well-spent.

x

Prompto plops down on the sofa besides Noctis after changing into more comfortable clothes, immediately snuggling into his friend’s side and covering both of them with a blanket for extra warmth. Noctis brings him closer with an arm around his shoulder, promptly starting to play with his hair, making Prompto close his eyes and sigh in bliss.

“Today was fun,” he says, resting his head on Noctis’ collarbone.

“It was,” Noctis agrees. “We should do stuff like that more often, it’ll do us some good,” he smiles.

“Mm, yeah,” Prompto hums. “Wanna watch something before we have to get up and figure out dinner?”

“We should just order takeout tonight,” Noctis suggests. “And sure; anything on your mind?”

“Nah, you pick. I’ll see what we could eat in the meantime,” Prompto grins, finding his phone to open the deliveries app.

“I don’t want anything with veggies,” Noctis reminds him as he opens up Netflix on his own phone.

Prompto laughs. “I know better than that by now, have some faith!”

“Yeah right,” Noctis snorts, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“So rude, after I take you into my own home,” Prompto mutters, smiling when Noctis laughs.

“Stop complaining and find us food already,” his friend says with a wide grin.

“Yes, your highness,” Prompto snickers.

Chapter Text

The following week passes without much fanfare. The two of them start it off by talking with Monica to set up their weekly sessions on Tuesdays, after comparing her schedule with Prompto’s -- Tuesday being the day with the lightest school work load for him, and mostly free for her, much to their relief. They end up cuddling on the sofa again after the week’s sessions, taking comfort in one another as has become their usual.

Noctis watches, torn between amusement and pity, as Prompto becomes more and more like a headless chicken as the days go by and the due date of everything inches ever closer. He tags along for more than one meet up with the others so that the trio of students can work on their various projects and study together, usually going off to play with Iris while they do their thing.

They go to sleep on Thursday under heavy snowfall, adding yet another thick blanket to their bed to help them in dealing with the bitter cold -- which is not at all better in the hours of not-yet morning that Prompto has to get up at. Prompto’s sense of duty and exam anxiety still wins over his need for warmth, but Noctis can tell it’s a very near thing.

Prompto shakes Noctis out of his doze after going through his morning routine and changing into weather-appropriate clothes, looking excited -- though perhaps a smidge envious -- at the sight of his friend still all snuggled up in bed.

“Hey Noct,” he says in a low tone, face bearing a delighted grin. “I looked at the news and they’re saying we got eight inches of snow in some places!!”

Noctis blinks at him, doing his best to cut through the haze of sleep to figure out how much that is. His eyes widen when he is finally able to imagine the amount.

“That’s a lot for one night,” Noctis says, words a little slurred. He smacks his tongue on the roof of his mouth a couple times and frees an arm from the blankets to rub at his eyes.

“Yeah! But do you know what that means?” Prompto asks, eyes twinkling.

Noctis hums a negative, letting his eyes fall shut.

“It means we can introduce Iris to the wonders of playing in the snow!”

Noctis smiles and reaches for Prompto blindly, almost jamming his finger inside Prompto’s eye if the other’s yelp of protest is any indication. Finally, he gets to his goal, gently ruffling his friend’s blonde hair.

“So we’re going there today too?” he asks, haphazardly brushing his own hair away from his face.

“We’d still have to go even if it hadn’t snowed like that, ‘cause me and the guys need to put up some finishing touches on something that we have to hand in this Monday, but this is a pretty cool bonus,” Prompto says, winking. Noctis snorts without meaning to and gives Prompto’s shoulder a light shove as punishment for the terrible pun.

“Don’t you have a class to be at?” Noctis asks, slightly chiding, lazily opening an eye. “I’m gonna drag you back to bed if you continue to stick around,” he threatens.

Prompto chuckles. “I’m going, I’m going.”

Noctis listens quietly as Prompto exits the bedroom and collects his things. Just before leaving, Prompto stops by the doorway and calls out Noctis’ name.

“There’s still bread from yesterday and some takeout leftovers too,” he says. “Text me if you want me to buy anything on the way home, ‘kay?”

Noctis makes a noise of agreement and burrows deeper under the covers. “Good luck; stay safe,” he mutters.

“Thanks! See ya later.”

Noctis hears the very faint jingle of keys as Prompto picks them up, then the sound of the front door being opened and closed back again.

He sighs and makes himself more comfortable, pondering whether he should get up already or surrender to sleep for a few more hours. Ignis had prepared a list of subjects that will most likely feature in his exams, which Noctis has been revising as best he can.

With that in mind, Noctis sticks a foot away from the safety of the blankets, using it to gauge just how cold it is,  away from his cocoon. After a minute, he grimaces and pulls it back, folding his leg and shifting so that he can put his now-cold foot under his other leg to get it to warm back up.

No way I’m leaving this haven, he thinks with a slight frown. Studying will just have to wait…

x

Prompto comes to collect Noctis and the materials needed for his project around three. Iris nearly tackles them clean off the porch when they knock on the door to the Amicitia’s, wasting no time before she starts to ramble excitedly about the snow and the things she’d already done prior to their arrival.

Noctis goes inside just long enough to greet the others before allowing Iris to pull him to the front yard -- which already bears a snow angel and a couple of lumpy snowmen. It takes them a while to learn -- or relearn, in Noctis’ case -- how to play with snow; Iris had never done it before and Noctis is completely out of practice; being in the snow as a cat was simply not fun, so he can safely claim that the last time he did anything like this was at least some three hundred years ago.

They make half a dozen slightly-deformed snowmen, laughing at their lopsided bodies and beady stone eyes. Iris insists on him making a snow angel next to her own, to which he acquiesces with a fond smile. Clarus watches them from the porch with a dopey smile and a mug of warm, steaming tea.

A bunch of kids from the neighborhood trundles past them, yelling and cheering excitedly. Two of them notice Iris and stop on their tracks.

“Hey Iris!! We’re going to the park to play there, do you wanna come with? We’re gonna have a snow war!” the boy says. Iris turns to her dad, ready to turn on the puppy eyes if necessary, but Clarus waves his assent before she can even voice the question.

“Have fun, kiddo,” he says, chuckling when Iris squeals and gives him a quick hug. He turns to Noctis. “Make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best,” Noctis salutes with a grin.

“I’ll let the others know where you’re going. I think they’re about to finish their thing, but I’m pretty sure they’ll want to join in this so-called snow war.”

Noctis snorts. “No doubt about that.”

“Noct, c’mon!” Iris calls, latching onto his hand to pull him along. “They said we gotta get there fast to be able to get a good spot!”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Noctis says, taking off into a light sprint with Iris on his tail.

x

Noctis is surprised to learn how organized the kids from Iris’ neighborhood are. He had been a tiny little bit confused when they called it a snow war instead of a snow fight, but seeing the battleground that is being readied, he gets it.

The kids have split themselves into two teams, using the typical form of division: two leaders, each picking a person, one at a time. They only catch the end of it, but looking at both teams, Noctis would bet a bag of good candies that most choices were based on real strategy, rather than pure friendship. He’ll admit to being a little impressed.

Furthermore, the area that has been chosen for the war to play out is full of snow barricades, each with a little pile of snowballs -- which the kids simply call ammo with a surprisingly straight face -- beside it; the teams will start on different sides of the field, and in order to win, any player must land ten hits and then reach the opposite team’s base, proclaiming it conquered.

Ten hits is a fair amount, Noctis thinks; not too many, but also not too few. Reaching the enemy base will probably be harder than it sounds like, what with the dozen or so kids all aiming at the person attempting to get there.

There’s a bit of a disagreement between the leaders when it’s time to decide which team Noctis will join. He’s bigger than any of them and theoretically more skilled; he stares at their back and forth until a deal is made -- which in this case means that he’s on the same team as Iris, thank goodness. He has no idea who any of those other kids are, and he’d rather stick to the one he knows.

They circle around their leaders to strategize and choose a home base. Noctis notes -- with some amusement -- that even though the tallest kid stands at the height of his shoulder, he still has to kneel on the snow to truly hear the leader’s low voice -- an attempt to keep their strategy a secret from the other team, Noctis guesses.

A few rounds pass without much trouble; the wins are pretty evenly distributed between the two teams, despite any earlier worries that Noctis would be too much of an advantage. Though he has the foresight to make up better plans than most, his size means that he is a bigger target, and thus more likely to get peltered mercilessly with snowballs. As such, he prefers to stand back and act as a decoy, allowing the others to take the spotlight.

Once half a dozen rounds have come and gone, they all decide to take a break to either catch their breath or play more. It’s during this time off that Prompto, Ignis and Gladio arrive with a handful more kids in tow, all obviously wanting in.

The leaders decide to redivide the teams for fairness’ sake. Prompto latches onto Noctis’ arm and begs for them to be on the same team, which leaves Ignis and Gladio together as well in the other group. 

At first, Gladio expresses sadness at Iris not being on the same side as him; then he grins, positively devious, upon realizing that this only means that he can hit his little sister with as many snowballs as he is able to. Iris meets the challenge head on, as usual.

They spend the first couple rounds getting a feel of the new teams, learning the strengths of the newcomers so as to strategize better later on. After two more matches, the leaders change their strategy; Noctis’ decides that Prompto will be the one to try and reach the enemy base this time, and if Noctis is reading the other team correctly, they’ve chosen Gladio to do the same.

It makes sense, of course -- Gladio is the tallest of them all and sports some impressive muscles for his age, while Prompto is incredibly light on his feat and has killer aim. Noctis and Iris stay behind to serve as backup, leaving Prompto and the more resilient kids to spearhead their advance.

Prompto wastes no time in landing his quota of hits, sticking close to his group as they get closer to the middle of the field, where it’s hard for any team to get a significant advantage. When Prompto dashes to the enemy base, Gladio abandons his team’s plan specifically to tackle Prompto onto the ground instead, causing the boy to fall face first into the thick layer of snow.

Noctis sees them, still and unguarded, and immediately aims his tenth snowball at Gladio’s back, taking off into a sprint before it even hits. As soon as he’s away form the barricade’s protection and on the move, the kids start aiming at him; Ignis lands one on the dead-center of his chest with such force that Noctis staggers and falls to the ground ungracefully, cursing under his breath.

As revenge, the kids from Noctis’ team focus their attentions on Ignis, pelting him with snowballs from almost every angle. This creates a big enough distraction to allow one of Noctis’ teammates to quietly make her way to the enemy base, any sounds from her advance completely drowned out by the ruckus. She gets her last few points on the way, taking advantage of her unobtrusive aura to hit the more easily distracted players.

They blink and she’s there, successful and all the more radiant for it. The game is called off and their team starts to cheer; Noctis helps Gladio and Prompto up, then laughs at how Prompto’s front is white with snow.

The other kids decide that it was a good last match. They’re all at least partially wet and the wind has picked up while they were playing, so everyone is eager to get changed into dry clothes and nurse a warm mug of hot cocoa at home.

They trundle home together; a big, fairly dense pack of children with four teenagers sticking out, waving goodbye to each kid as they go past their homes. It isn’t long before they get to the Amicitia’s, thankfully; now that Noctis is no longer running around, his teeth won’t stop chattering.

Clarus takes one glance at them and immediately sends them off to the bathrooms, saying that he’s already left them some clothes out, having foreseen the state they’d return in. Noctis thanks him, doing his best to stop shivering in place, shuffling into the downstairs bathroom to dry off and change.

He squints a little at the clothes that have been laid out for him, not recognizing them. He ruffles through them and finds a note from Clarus, asking him to let the man know if everything fits and to not remove the tags of anything that doesn’t.

Noctis huffs out a laugh. He wonders if Clarus thinks Prompto won’t notice it just because the gift wasn’t given in his presence, snickering at the thought.

He dries off before trying on each piece, admittedly impressed at how well most things fit. Not only that, but they’re in a similar style to the ones he had bought with Prompto, which is even more thoughtful; he asks himself if Ignis has had anything to do with this.

Noctis leaves the wet clothes folded over the toilet at Clarus’ request and exits the bathroom, eager to get warm. Prompto frowns at the extra clothes he’s holding, a question at the tip of his tongue; Noctis only shrugs in response, smiling a little when Prompto closes the door without a word.

Clarus is pleased to hear that the clothes fit well, and lets him know that there’s also some winter gear in the study atop their usual mattress. Noctis raises an eyebrow.

“You know he’s gonna make a fuss about this, right?” he asks, gesturing towards the bathroom, where Prompto currently is.

“Doesn’t he always?” Clarus retorts with a quick smirk. “I bet he’ll still be getting all flustered years from now, so I’m not gonna let that stop me,” he shrugs, then grins. “Gonna have my fun with it instead.”

Noctis shakes his head, though with a smile. “As long as you know you’re gonna have a blabbering Prompto on your hands.”

“I do,” Clarus nods. “Now go on, run upstairs and look them over. I’ll send him there once he’s out,” Clarus snickers.

Noctis huffs in amusement and does as he’s been told, taking a mug of still-warm cocoa from the counter on his way up. He opens the door to the study and steps inside, taking a peek at the pairs of gloves, coats and hats deposited on one side of his and Prompto’s mattress, draining half the cup before he sits down to try everything out.

Prompto enters the study while he’s attempting to make up his mind about a pompom hat. Noctis sees his friend struggle to hold back a laugh, but a little ‘pfffft’ still comes out before Prompto is able to cover his mouth with a hand. The mirth is set aside when he catches sight of the rest of the clothes strewn around Noctis, and he steps closer with an unhappy frown.

“I knew it,” he says, biting back a pout. “Clarus really should stop spending so much money on us,” he mumbles half-heartedly. Noctis raises his eyebrows in slight surprise at the weakness of his protest; maybe he’ll come to accept it sooner than they all thought.

“It’s his money,” Noctis shrugs. “If he wants to buy us stuff with it, that’s his choice.”

Prompto all but collapses on the mattress next to him with a dramatic groan. “I know it is, but I still think there are better things to do with it!” he insists, truly sulking now.

Noctis snorts. “It’d be easier for you to manage to build a time travel machine than to convince him of that,” he smiles.

His friend groans more and whines like a child throwing a tantrum, stomping the floor and everything. Noctis laughs unabashedly at Prompt, pulling him close for a smothering hug.

Prompto tickles Noctis to get himself free, letting his body fall onto the mattress in the aftermath. Noctis finally removes the pompom hat from his head and puts it on Prompto’s with a smile.

“Looks better on you,” he says, answering Prompto’s unvoiced question.

“Nah,” Prompto shakes his head. “You should keep if for yourself. Makes you look like the dork you truly are,” he grins.

“It makes you look like a kid, which you are, if we’re going by your recent tantrum,” Noctis retorts.

Prompto lets out a battle cry and jumps him, attacking his nape and sides mercilessly.

“You-- You’re not dis-- stop that! -- disproving my point here!” Noctis gets out between bouts of laughter.

“And you talk as if-- ow!! -- you weren’t just as b-- eek!” Prompto cuts himself off with a yelp. 

Noctis laughs brightly and shoves his still chilly hand even further down the collar of Prompto’s shirt, making the other drop the offensive to squirm away.

“That wasn’t fair!” Prompto whines.

“Don’t care,” Noctis shrugs with a grin.

“You cheater,” Prompto mumbles with a scowl.

“If you’re gonna fight me like an infant I’ll retaliate like an infant,” Noctis states, deadpan.

Prompto pouts exaggeratedly and turns away from Noctis; Noctis chuckles and lies next to him, reaching out to tickle his side, relishing on the squeal it earns him. Next, he shifts close enough to drape an arm over Prompto’s waist, tugging him backwards until there’s almost no space between their bodies.

Prompto sighs and traces nonsensical patterns on Noctis’ hand. Noctis squeezes his waist for a brief moment and closes his eyes in the aftermath.

“We can share the hat,” he hums after a pause, smiling at Prompto’s short laugh.

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

They stay in this position for a good while; just when Noctis is about to find a blanket to cover them and finally drift off to sleep, someone knocks on the door. Prompto is the one to give the person permission to enter; Clarus chuckles at the sight of them, cuddling and obviously nearly asleep.

“You boys are going to sleep this early?” he asks in a teasing tone, letting the door support some of his weight.

Noctis moves his head away from Prompto’s nape, aware that if he speaks as it is, the words will come out too muffled to be understood.

“All hours are napping hours,” he states, tightening his hold on Prompto.

“The two of you are truly toddlers,” Clarus shakes his head amusedly.

“I could say we resent that, but we did establish that same fact some, eh, fifteen minutes ago or so?” Prompto shrugs.

“I came to let you know that we’re thinking about going to the mall within the hour,” Clarus says. “All of you are studying hard for your exams, and deserve a treat. We could eat some fast food, maybe catch a movie if any of them seems interesting enough. Whatcha think?”

“Sounds pretty good,” Prompto replies. Noctis sighs internally at the loss of their potential nap, but admits to himself that it is a great idea.

“We’re in,” Noctis declares.

“I’ll let the others know. The plan is to be out in around twenty minutes, so get yourselves ready,” Clarus smiles.

“I’m gonna open up the cinema app to see what we could watch,” Prompto says, taking out his phone to do just that.

“Good idea,” Clarus nods. “Come on down once you’re ready.”

“Yeah, be right there,” Noctis mutters, too focused on Prompto’s phone screen to notice his voice’s volume.

“Oh, I like this one!” Prompto exclaims, looking at Noctis from the corner of his eye.

“It seems cool,” Noctis agrees.

Neither of them realizes that Clarus has left the room.

x

They have a good, fun weekend; Prompto is thankful as hell for it -- for his friends in general, really. Noctis does his best to keep Prompto distracted for most of Sunday, aware that Prompto will dissolve into a ball of exam-induced nerves if left alone with his thoughts for too long.

It happens pretty much every time: Prompto will keep remembering that the tests will be happening on the following day or week and suddenly second guess his studying abilities -- wonder if he should have dedicated more time to it; if he’s truly ready; if the teachers will be lenient or demanding. 

As soon as the test is in his hands, however, his worries melt away; at that point, he has done everything he possibly could; Prompto has never been the type to stick around needlessly, waiting for the correct answers to magically appear in his head. He does what he can, accepts his own short-comings, and then proceeds to forget the entire test as soon as he hands it in.

The latter is an old joke amongst his classmates, but Prompto can’t help it; he’ll never understand how the others can go out and talk about the exam as if they were still holding the question sheets. As soon as Prompto walks out of the classroom, his brain automatically deletes pretty much all the answers he had put in, as well as the majority of the questions.

Monday morning -- is it really morning if the sun hasn’t risen yet? -- finds Prompto thinking about all this as he lays in bed. He had woken up around half an hour ago, when sleep kicked him out of its realm without a single drop of mercy; a peek at his phone reveals that it’s not even half past four yet, something that makes Prompto groan in disgust.

Noctis shifts, mumbling something in his sleep, and Prompto raises a hand to pet his head without any conscious input. From what he has seen during the time he’s been awake, Noctis seems to be having trouble staying asleep as well; his friend can’t stay still for long, letting out little pained grunts and frowning every once in a while.

Prompto is nearly too restless to stay in bed as is -- but at the same time, he doesn’t want to risk waking Noctis while his friend is in this state. As such, he holds on for a few more minutes, squirming when Noctis does and silently making plans to take his leave without disturbing the other too much.

But then Noctis groans -- louder than before and clearly awake -- and presses his head against Prompto’s torso with a pained expression.

“You okay?” Prompto asks, careful to keep his voice quiet.

“Head hurts,” Noctis croaks out. “Everything does, actually. I think my throat died during the night,” he winces.

Prompto hums in sympathy and rubs circles around Noctis’ shoulder blades. “Do you want me to go get you some meds?”

Noctis nods, dragging his limbs to himself in order to allow Prompto to get up unhindered, curling up into a ball of misery once Prompto leaves the bed.

“I’m gonna make you some tea as well, okay?” he adds, waiting for Noctis’ soft agreement before he makes his way to the kitchen.

Prompto sets the kettle on the stove and ruffles through the medicine drawer, wondering what to pick. The timing and presence of a sore throat means that it’s probably a cold or the flu, so he takes out Dayquil and fills a glass with water, remembering to take a thermometer just as he’s about to go back to the bedroom.

“Noct,” he calls, setting the meds on the bedside table. “I’ll help you sit up, c’mon,” he encourages, arranging the pillows against the headboard and helping Noctis lean against them in a more or less upright position. 

He brushes Noctis’ bangs away from his face and presses his hand first against his forehead, then his neck, gauging his temperature.

“Drink up,” Prompto says, pressing the dosage cup into Noctis’ hands. “You seem a bit feverish to me, but we’ll take your temp just to confirm it, yeah?”

“Okay,” Noctis acquiesces with a grimace, accepting first the glass of water and then the thermometer.

“You know the drill, right? Keep it in place ‘til it beeps.”

“I know,” Noctis says, deadpan. Prompto chuckles and runs his hand over the other’s hair one more time.

“I’m gonna go back to the kitchen, call me if you need anything else.”

Prompto finds the package of chamomile tea and his jar of honey, leaving both on the counter while he checks the water. Once it’s boiling, he turns off the stove and pours the water into a mug, adding the chamomile and letting it steep as he mentally goes over his school schedule for the day.

Once enough time has passed, he removes the tea bag from the mug and adds the honey, stirring a bit before putting everything back in its place so he can make his way to the bedroom once more.

“Here,” he declares upon getting close to the bed, blowing gently on the tea before pressing the mug onto Noctis’ hands. “This will make you feel a little better.”

“Thanks,” Noctis whispers, being careful so as to not irritate his throat.

“No problem. Do you want me to put on something for you to watch?”

Noctis shrugs. Prompto unlocks his phone and opens Netflix, turning the TV on absentmindedly. “Any preferences?”

“A cartoon, maybe.”

Prompto nods and decides on Aggretsuko, tapping on the screen casting icon and waiting for the TV to catch up. Meanwhile, Noctis gingerly adjusts his position in bed so as to be able to look at the screen. Once the episode starts, Prompto makes a brief trip to the living room to ruffle through his school bag until he finds the paper with his lines for today’s presentation, as well as the summary he had made to study for the test in fourth period.

Clutching both papers in hand, Prompto goes back to the bedroom and climbs onto the bed beside Noctis, taking the spot nearest to the wall. Noctis immediately turns onto his side and cuddles close; Prompto directs him to lay his head on Prompto’s right shoulder, leaving his right arm free so as to give Noctis plenty of affection while he does his best to manage the stack of loose papers with only his left hand.

Noctis snorts, appears to regret it, then lends a hand to the whole paper-holding business, focusing his gaze on the TV afterwards. Prompto smiles and tugs him closer, mussing his hair gently and receiving a protest with absolutely no fire behind it.

They stay in this position for over an hour, with only the sounds of Aggretsuko and their breathing to fill the room. When the 6:02 alarm sounds out, Prompto puts the papers away to slowly stretch and sigh.

“I’m gonna let Clarus know that you aren’t feeling well, so if you need something and I’m too busy with school to answer, you can text him,” Prompto decides.

“Alright,” Noctis shrugs before covering his mouth to cough a couple of times.

“I think we ran out of soup last week, so I’m gonna pass by the store and buy the ingredients to make some chicken noodles,” Prompto says.

“Yeah?” Noctis asks, sounding almost stupidly hopeful.

“Yeah, you child,” Prompto snickers.

“It’s good food,” Noctis argues.

“It is.”

Prompto lingers in bed for a few more minutes, reluctant to leave his warm, cozy cocoon and get himself ready to brave the world outside. Standing up is a process: first, he has to convince Noctis to let go of him, followed by the chore that is disentangling himself from the blankets, to be finally able to carefully make his way over Noctis and reach the ground. Noctis is absolutely no help in all this, as is to be expected.

Once he has chosen an outfit and changed into it, he goes back to the bedroom to relay Clarus’ reply.

“It appears that Iris is also sick,” Prompto declares, voice deceptively cheery.

“Maybe we got it from one of the kids on Friday,” Noctis muses.

“That’s a possibility,” Prompto nods. “He wanted me to ask you if you want him to pick you up so you don’t have to stay alone.”

Noctis wrinkles his nose, indignant. “Why? That’d be way too much work! Plus, I can’t see him leaving Iris alone at home and stuffing her into a car needlessly when she’s already sick won’t help her any,” he argues. “Also, I am 316 years old, I can stay alone and take care of myself for a day,” he rolls his eyes petulantly, on the brink of a sulk.

Prompto hides his snicker with a hand, earning a particularly mean stink-eye from Noctis for it. “Sorry, you just look adorable,” Prompto explains, laughing outright at the scowl that takes over Noctis’ expression. “And I get it, those are pretty good reasons, but no matter how old you are it’s nice to be taken care of sometimes, you know?” he shrugs.

Noctis frowns and holds Prompto’s gaze unwaveringly. “You already take care of me. Isn’t that enough?”

Prompto’s eyes widen and he stays motionless for a moment, surprised by the sincerity in Noctis’ words. Then he smiles fondly, not bothering to resist the urge to sit next to his friend on the bed.

“It’s enough if you believe it’s enough,” Prompto replies. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not gonna be around for a few hours, and thus I won’t be here to help you.”

Noctis rolls his eyes with a lopsided smile. “Didn’t I just tell you I am plenty old enough to take care of myself? Get your ears checked,” he teases.

“Dork,” Prompto retorts, giving Noctis’ shoulder a light shove. Noctis laughs briefly, but it soon turns into a cough. “Don’t overdo it,” Prompto warns him, petting his head.

“I won’t,” Noctis states. “Now stop dallying around and get your ass going, don’t you have some important stuff to do today?”

“Indeed I do,” Prompto nods, giving the other a final pat before he stands up. “I’m gonna leave my old water bottle on the nightstand and you better drink all of it, do you hear me? You gotta stay hydrated.”

“Yes, mother.”

“You say that only because you haven’t been under Ignis’ care yet. I don’t even compare.”

Noctis snorts. “Just go already you nerd, or you’re gonna be late!”

“Yes sir!”

x

Their presentation during the first two periods goes super well -- a perfect score. Prompto lets the teacher’s praise sink in and admits to himself that he had been expecting nothing else; Ignis must be rubbing off on him. The remaining classes before lunch have their exams later on in the week, so Prompto allows himself to sneak a peek at his phone from time to time and snicker at Noctis’ exaggerated whining.

Prompto spends half of lunch doing some last-minute reviews on the subject of their next period -- which has an exam today -- and the other half goofing off with his friends, because he deserves a break.

Prompto laughs, swipes to a previous moment of his conversation with Noctis, and turns the screen towards his friends. “Look,” he tells them.

Noctis: i would like water to stop coming out of my nose please and thank you

Prompto: pfffftttttt

Prompto: don’t you mean snot?

Noctis: this is too liquid to be snot

Ignis’ mouth quirks up at the corner and Gladio groans with a small smile.

“That’s gross, why are you making us read that,” he says. Prompto cackles.

“First: I shall not suffer alone. Second: being an older brother, I bet you have heard worse things, kids just have a knack for being nasty.”

Gladio fails to suppress a shiver at the memories that pop up at the words. “Don’t remind me,” he pleads. “Thank fuck that the flu is like, level two stuff.”

“Prompto,” Ignis calls. Prompto hums to show he’s listening. “We should decide on another time period to apply Noctis’ exams. It wouldn’t do to force him to do it while sick or recovering.”

“Tell that to this country’s schools,” Gladio grumbles. Prompto pats his arm in sympathy.

“The change should also give us more time to come up with something, right?”

Ignis nods. “Indeed. I’ve set aside some past exams I still have lying around, to see if any work as a good base.”

“Sometimes I wonder why you keep that kinda stuff for so long,” Prompto shakes his head.

Ignis chuckles. “You never know when it could be of use.”

“I’m a little scared to discover what you keep around,” Prompto teases, faking a shudder of fear.

Ignis smirks, playing along. “And I’m afraid you will have to keep wondering.”

Gladio claps them both on the shoulder and pulls them into a hug of sorts. “Okay, that was creepy enough, can we move on?” he snickers.

The bell signaling the end of lunch period sounds out, making Prompto and Gladio grumble in distress.

“Move on to our deaths, you mean. God, I hate that teacher,” Prompto shakes his head.

“No kidding,” Gladio agrees. “C’mon, let's pick up our stuff and get going already, we don’t need more reasons for him to be an asshole.”

Prompto scowls. “As if he needs any.”

“Less talking, more moving,” Ignis cuts in.

After a minute, everything is stored away and Prompto pats himself free of any remaining dust. “Off we go, then.”

Chapter Text

When Prompto finally gets home after the official end of Hell Week’s first day, he finds Noctis curled up on the couch, red-nosed and miserable.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Prompto asks, raising an eyebrow.

“What, and leave even more of my germs there than I already have?” Noctis asks, grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose on it, almost as if proving a point. “Nah. Plus, getting to the kitchen is easier from here.”

“You dork,” Prompto sighs. “What use is that if I’m just gonna do this?” he asks, sitting next to Noctis and playfully nuzzling his friend’s shoulder.

“Prom!” Noctis exclaims in exasperation, doing his best to squirm away as Prompto follows. “Do you want to get sick or what?”

“I don’t get sick all that often; I kinda trust my immune system in this,” Prompto shrugs. “And if I do get sick, then you’ll just have to return the favor and take care of me,” he grins.

Noctis rolls his eyes. “And you call me a dork.”

“Who says we can’t both be dorks? I gotta have a word with whoever that is.”

Noctis huffs out a little laugh. Prompto puts an arm around his shoulders, encouraging him to scoot closer so that Prompto may tuck him against his own side.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft.

“I'm dying,” Noctis sniffles. A second later, he leans out of Prompto’s hold to reach for another tissue, tossing it in the trash can he had brought from the bedroom and settled at the end of the couch once he’s done before going back to Prompto’s half-embrace.

“So dramatic,” Prompto notes fondly.

“I was never sick as a cat,” Noctis tells him. “So the last time I was ill was three hundred something years ago, probably. I don’t remember. I’m dying,” he insists with a sigh.

“As if I’d let you,” Prompto singsongs.

“So cruel,” Noctis half-smiles, eyes falling shut every four seconds. Prompto smiles ruefully, rubbing Noctis’ arm in sympathy despite the teasing.

“Did you take the meds like I told you?”

“Yeah, with a few minutes of delay cause I didn’t wanna move.”

“Of course. Anything you wanna do?”

“If you wanna play a game, I could watch,” Noctis suggests, losing the fight to stay awake. Prompto is halfway flattered that there even is a fight to speak off, since usually his friend has no qualms about falling asleep absolutely whenever.

“Final Fantasy XII?”

Noctis yawns. “Sure.”

Prompto leaves the couch to get his game system from the bedroom. He could try to convince Noctis to move back to his bed instead of going through all the trouble of detaching the cables and carrying the console off to the living room, but Prompto is a good friend; if Noctis wants to stay on the couch -- no matter how silly Prompto thinks the reason is -- he won’t protest. 

He knows by experience that it is quite comfortable -- it had been the winner amongst a dozen or so other couches he and his parents had critically examined at the nearest furniture store, after all.

Prompto shakes his head to drive the memory away, unwilling to stick his hand in that mental bear trap. He is surprised to notice that Noctis is still awake once he finally makes his way back to the living room; he’d been expecting to find the other dozing off already.

“What?” Noctis asks in response to Prompto’s stare.

“Just a bit stunned that you’re still awake. You looked three seconds from falling asleep when I got up.”

Noctis grumbles something Prompto can’t discern, rearranging the covers over himself. After everything has been set up properly, Prompto looks at the empty water bottle on the coffee table and frowns.

“When did you last drink water?”

“Some time before you arrived home.”

“I’m gonna get you some more, then.”

Prompto refills the bottle in the kitchen and shuffles back to the couch, passing it over to Noctis before picking up his favorite controller. Noctis takes a few sips before depositing it back on the coffee table, snuggling into Prompto’s side as the system starts up.

Once his save has loaded, he opens up the menu to see what hunts he has available, stealing a quick glance at Noctis while he thinks. His friend is out like a light, mouth hanging slightly open, looking completely at ease despite the illness.

Prompto smiles, going back to his game.

x

Two hours before their usual bedtime, Prompto pesters Noctis relentlessly until his friend agrees to go take a warm shower, insisting that it will help him feel better. After Noctis gets out of the bathroom, Prompto lends him his coziest, softest sweater and presents him with clean blankets -- throwing his previous, fever-soaked garments into the washer.

“You sure you wanna stay on the couch tonight?” Prompto asks, crouching in front of him.

“Don’t wanna bother you with all this coughing and getting up to run to the bathroom ‘cause of endlessly dripping nose,” Noctis mumbles with closed eyes, sniffling every once in a while.

Prompto purses his lips and swallows back the urge to reassure the other that such things would be no problem at all.

“I’m gonna buy some Nyquil for you tomorrow,” Prompto says instead, smoothing the edges of Noctis’ blanket burrito. “I don’t drink it ‘cause it makes me feel like death personified, so it didn’t even pass through my mind that maybe you could benefit from it.”

“It’s fine,” Noctis slurs. “I can survive one night.”

Prompto gives him a crooked grin. “That’s what you’re saying now.”

“Stop tempting fate,” Noctis complains. Prompto snickers.

“I’ve stopped, I’ve stopped,” he says, smiling fondly. “I can retreat to the bedroom if you want to sleep already,” he offers.

“Stay a little longer,” Noctis insists, even though his eyes have already fallen shut.

“Alright,” Prompto accepts, sitting properly on the floor, leaning against the couch’s armrest.

“You can turn on the TV if you want,” Noctis yawns. “The noise and the lights don’t bother me.”

Prompto smiles and picks up the remote, scanning what’s on without much interest before settling on a rerun of Cake Boss.

Prompto catches himself drifting off an hour or so later, nearly hitting his head on the coffee table due to how much he had leaned forward. He yawns, figures it’s time for bed and proceeds to turn everything off before standing up.

Noctis jerks himself awake as Prompto stretches his aching back, looking around wildly in the second it takes for Prompto to start shushing him.

“It’s okay, I’m just heading off to bed,” Prompto whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

Noctis stares at him for a moment, blinking as his sleepy, sick brain tries to make sense of the words. Then he nods and relaxes back into his burrito.

“What time izzit?”

Prompto looks at his phone. “Almost midnight.”

Noctis hums and shifts, pulling the blankets up to his nose. So adorable, Prompto thinks with a slight smile.

“Night, Noct.”

“Nnnmmh,” Noctis replies, making Prompto chuckle softly.

“Sweet dreams.”

x

As soon as Prompto’s head hits the pillow, the previously overwhelming sleepiness he had been feeling scatters away with the wind, leaving him wide awake and very much alert.

He fiddles with his phone for an hour, alternating between Youtube and his various apps; however, no matter how many times he decides that okay, he really needs to sleep now -- no matter how much he turns and shifts... Morpheus continues to ignore him. It’s annoying, truly.

Prompto huffs as he sits up, scooting closer to the window to peer at the clear sky and quiet suburbs beyond. He clumsily traces constellations with his eyes, not always able to find all the stars that make them up or remember the correct shape, leaning closer still to the window to allow his warm breath fog it over.

It’s probably ‘cause Noctis isn’t here, Prompto muses with a small sigh. He considers sending Noctis a text to see if he’s awake -- opens their favored messaging app, even -- but discards the idea upon seeing that his friend’s last seen had been some three and a half hours ago. If Noctis is sleeping, Prompto surely won’t be the one to bother him.

He rolls in bed some more, calculating how much time he has before his alarm rings while going over his schedule for the day -- succeeding only in making himself antsier.

Prompto eventually tires of staying in bed and decides to make himself some cocoa in the hopes it will help with his sleeplessness. He pads out of the bedroom on quiet feet, pausing on the hallway to peer at the couch to make sure that Noctis is still out cold.

Instead, he finds Noctis illuminated by the faint glow his phone gives off, painting his face in shifting colors as the video he’s watching plays on. Prompto smiles and relaxes, no longer worried about being quiet.

“Can’t sleep?” Prompto asks, tone soft. Noctis startles slightly, turning to look at him before melting back onto the couch.

“Kinda. Maybe I snoozed too much during the day; either way, now my respiratory system is screaming bloody murder,” he replies.

Prompto snorts. “You okay?”

“I am really tired of expelling water through my nose,” Noctis groans. “It’s getting sore from all the tissues,” he complains.

“Poor Noct,” Prompto soothes him, walking closer so as to brush Noctis’ bangs aside -- checking his temperature in the process. “Tomorrow will be equally as bad, or worse,” he declares with false cheer.

Noctis whines petulantly. “I’d rather not think about that, thanks.”

“Too bad.”

“Meanie.”

Prompto shrugs. “I’m gonna make cocoa. Want some?”

“Do you even have to ask? Always.”

Prompto smiles and gets to it, returning to the living room with two steaming mugs not too long after. Noctis waves him over just as he’s considering how to squeeze himself into the minimal space that Noctis is not occupying on the couch; he scoots down and lifts his head, clearly wanting to use Prompto’s lap as a pillow.

Prompto accepts the seat with an amused roll of his eyes, handing Noctis his mug and insisting he should sit up properly to drink the hot beverage. Noctis grumbles but follows his instructions, rearranging himself on the couch while keeping his back mostly straight as they share their cocoa in companionable silence.

Five minutes later, Prompto feels as if his eyelids weigh three metric tons each; as such, he starts to lean to the side without conscious input, still clutching his nearly empty mug. Noctis plucks it from his hands and deposits both their cups on the coffee table, letting Prompto rest against him in the aftermath.

He’s two seconds from finally falling asleep when Noctis speaks up, keeping his voice low and his tone soft, even as the illness makes him a little hoarse.

“You should go back to bed,” he says, running a hand over Prompto’s blond hair soothingly, which is doing the exact opposite of helping him stay awake.

Prompto frowns, turning slightly to clutch Nocttis’ arm in wordless denial, expression smoothing back out when Noctis chuckles at him. Noctis allows it for a few seconds, but then speaks up yet again.

“Prom,” he insists in a chiding tone.

“Don’t wanna.”

“This couch isn’t big enough to be comfortable with two people sleeping on it unless they’re literally on top of one another -- and I’m moving around way too much ‘cause of this stupid illness, so that’s out of the picture. Your bed is there, empty and waiting for you,” Noctis argues. Prompto purses his lips then opens his eyes a little, raising his head to meet Noctis’ determined gaze.

“Come with me then,” Prompto pouts. “I’m finally sleepy after almost three hours of Morpheus ghosting me without mercy and I bet it’s ‘cause you’re here with me. It’s like 3 in the morning, I have school and exams just in a few hours, and I really don’t mind that you’re sick -- I can take the spot near the wall so that you can get up more easily if you have to go to the bathroom, no prob, so just... Come back with me, please?”

Noctis smiles all through his exhausted rambling, then leans in to place a kiss on his temple. “Okay,” he says.

“Yeah??” Prompto asks, somewhat disbelieving. That’s all it took?

“Yes, you dork. It’s been just a month and a half but I can’t sleep away from you either,” Noctis laughs.

Prompto blinks at him for a moment, letting the words sink in. Then he jumps to his feet. “Oh thank fuck, let’s go already! I’m dying here,” he says, taking both their mugs to the sink as Noctis separates himself from his blankets.

Prompto pretty much melts onto the bed when they finally get to it, throwing the covers over them both and turning onto his left side to quietly watch Noctis’ chest expand and contract. 

It takes a sneezing fit, a small coughing fit, two trips to the bathroom with muttered curses before his friend’s respiratory system allows him some rest; Prompto scoots closer once things seem to have calmed down, placing an arm around Noctis’ waist and letting his forehead fall against the curve of Noctis’ spine.

Noctis sighs and Prompto copies him, finally able to rest.

School will be hell tomorrow -- more so than usual, anyway -- but Prompto’s used to that after a month of constant nightmares.

One issue at a time, he thinks, just as Morpheus finally whisks him away.

x

The rest of the week passes in a blur; Noctis’ symptoms peak on Tuesday and Wednesday, leaving him even more miserable and determined to sleep the entire day away to escape it all. Prompto makes sure to buy a bottle of NyQuil on his way home on Tuesday, later laughing unabashedly at Noctis’ grimace upon drinking it, promptly making plenty of videos of his totally sleep drunk friend.

Each and every of those videos are super high quality blackmail material. Prompto spends the week absolutely itching to share them with the rest of his friends, but does his best to refrain; to do so would lower their value, after all.

Prompto basically jumps out of bed on Friday morning, chock full of energy and excitement for the last day of school before the start of winter break -- finally, thank all the gods . Noctis barely twitches, still peacefully passed the hell out from the previous night’s NyQuil dose. Prompto doesn’t bother to hide his snicker as he adds yet another photo to his ever-growing collection.

He leaves for school in high spirits, confident that he’ll do well in his last two exams and counting the minutes until it’s all over at last… for a few weeks, anyway.

x

Hours later, Prompto opens the front door with so much enthusiasm that it almost slams against the wall.

“I’m free!!!” he yells into the house just for the hell of it, grinning widely at the almost imperceptible sound of Noctis’ laugh, which morphs into a cough halfway through.

“Are you actually trying to give me a heart attack here?” Noctis asks him, chuckling softly.

“My body cannot contain my current happiness,” Prompto shrugs dismissively, throwing himself on the couch next to Noctis. “Feeling any better?”

“I still wish I could remove my own throat from my body,” Noctis replies with fake cheerfulness.

“Fun! Did you drink the mint tea like I told you to?”

“Yeah. It helped a bit.”

“I’m glad,” Prompto smiles, tackling Noctis into a hug with no previous warning and nuzzling him like a-- well, like a cat. Prompto cackles at the thought, ignoring the other’s protests at the sudden manhandling.

“You’re chipper today,” Noctis points out, a little disgruntled.

“Noct, I’m free,” Prompto reminds him with all the awe such a fact deserves. “For three whole weeks.”

Noctis smiles, patting his head indulgently. “Yeah, I got that.”

“By the way, we’re gonna celebrate our much-awaited freedom with the others later,” Prompto tells him, leaning into his touch like the needy animal that he is.

“Yeah?” Noctis asks, receiving a nod in response. “We’re going to Gladio’s, right? Cause if you’re planning on going out somewhere, it would be better to leave my still sick self behind,” he teases.

“As if we’d ever do that,” Prompto scoffs. “We’re just gonna go over, eat good food and play games until we all get cross-eyed.”

Noctis grins. “We gonna stay over, or?”

Prompto hums. “Dunno. As nice as it would be not to worry about getting back home, I think I wanna sleep on my own bed tonight. Then we’re free to lazy the entirety of tomorrow away and ignore everyone else.”

“Sounds like a very good plan.”

“Of course you think so,” Prompto snorts. Noctis smiles, poking one of his ribs. “Hey!”

“When are we heading there?”

“No idea. Late afternoon? Gladio said he’d talk to Clarus about the possibility of going to the store for a snack-buying fest, so if they do we’ll probably get a ride out of it.”

“Awesome.”

“Imma send him a text to ask about it once I’ve gotten my daily dose of cuddling from you,” Prompto mutters, one hundred percent comfortable, having zero plans to move any time soon. Noctis snorts.

“Sure,” he drawls. Prompto squeezes him until he squirms, relishing in Noctis’ barked laugh and his half-hearted complain to cut it out, Prom!

They both decide a celebratory nap is just what they need, wasting no time before putting said plan in action.

x

Prompto wakes on Saturday feeling wonderfully refreshed, lingering in bed for a few more minutes in order to fully appreciate the lack of blaring alarms or the occasional knot of anxiety deep in his gut to get him up and puttering about before dawn.

He toes the line between slumber and wakefulness for quite some time before finally settling on the latter; Noctis’ latest NyQuil dose had worn off a few hours earlier, so his infrequent trips to the bathroom or the kitchen had shifted the bed enough to rouse Prompto into lighter sleep no matter how quiet Noctis tried to be.

His friend is besides him in bed in the present moment, probably dozing off -- Prompto has yet to muster the energy to open his eyes -- so Prompto decides that pulling him close for a good morning snuggle is a totally acceptable course of action. He hums when Noctis lets out a soft, sleepy noise, proceeding to entangle their legs until Prompto can barely discern which ones are his anymore.

“Mornin’,” Noctis whispers, turning his head to the side to be able to nuzzle Prompto’s.

“Morning, Noct,” Prompto sighs, eyes still closed.

Prompto lets his body wake up gradually, immensely pleased at the fact he can afford such a luxury at last. For once, there are no true, pressing obligations waiting to jump him as soon as his brain whirrs to life. It’s a great feeling.

“Anything you wanna do today?” he asks an unknown amount of time later.

Noctis takes a few moments to respond. “Stay in bed,” is his determined response. Prompto snorts.

“Can we alter that to ‘stay at home’ instead?”

“Maybe in a few hours.”

Prompto chuckles, moving until he’s able to press a kiss onto Noctis’ shoulder. “Okay.”

They only leave the bed definitely an hour before noon, when their stomachs start a riot over not being fed. After a brief discussion on whether it would be more correct to say they would eat lunch or breakfast, Prompto sets out to make a quick and lazy meal -- lunch would require too much effort, they decide -- while Noctis watches from the dining table, having dragged one of the bed’s blankets with him.

“You haven’t practiced magic in a while,” Noctis comments out of the blue, between bites.

Prompto stops chewing for a second and goes over the past few weeks in his mind. “Huh. You’re right,” he responds after swallowing, a little surprised. “I hadn’t noticed it had been so long.”

Noctis grins. “It was entertaining -- to watch you practice, I mean.”

Prompto huffs, feeling defensive. “I’m trying my best here,” he argues, resisting the urge to pout.

“I know,” Noctis agrees, sounding completely sincere. “But you make all kinds of weird expressions while attempting to do a spell,” he snickers. Prompto smiles against his will.

He lets the conversation drift into a lull for some time, pondering on a few things while they eat.

“Were you worried at the beginning, when you learned I was a witch too?”

At first, Noctis widens his eyes at the question; then he looks down at the table and smiles. “A little. Probably not nearly as much as you’re thinking, to be honest; some decades after the ruckus of the Witch Trials died down, Salem became more or less a haven for witches and magical creatures, ironically enough. It’s part of the town’s history and currently a way to attract tourists, so no one cares if you know a little too much about magic and stuff like that.”

“I believe that’s why my parents decided to move here,” Prompto thinks out loud. “They’re witches too, and there was a lot of talk at their workplace about the possibility of them being offered jobs overseas, managing something or another,” he shrugs. “I knew it was something they’d been wanting to do for a while, so I encouraged them to go. They wanted to take me with them, but since I wanted to stay, we moved here around six months before they left.”

“So that you’d be somewhere with a considerable magic community at least,” Noctis nods.

“Not that I’ve really made an effort to join it,” Prompto grins, a bit self-deprecative. “I know a handful of shops that cater to magic users and the like, but I’ve mostly stuck to myself.”

They stay silent for a few minutes, going over what’s been said. During that time, they finally finish eating, so Prompto puts their plates in the sink before rejoining Noctis at the table.

“You did scare the hell out of me when we first met though,” Noctis confesses. “A teenager, probably a virgin, entering the Sanderson’s house alone on Halloween night? I thought you were going to try to light the candle for sure,” he shakes his head.

“You jumped on me and started scratching my face!”

“I was trying to make you leave!” Noctis defends himself.

“Still, the face? Seriously??”

“I couldn’t take any chances.”

“Okay,” Prompto grumbles. "That’s probably valid."

“And what does that say about you, who stayed even after getting said scratches?”

“That I’m determined,” Prompto retorts. “I had heard about the curse and I figured it would be better to stick around to do what I could, even if it turned out to be fake. With that kind of old, widespread tale, it never hurts to be careful.”

Noctis sighs. “But then it ended up being fulfilled anyway,” he huffs tiredly. Prompto flinches without meaning to -- as if it had been an accusation, even though he knows Noctis would never mean it as such. He had been doing his best to stop his mind from going down that road, but now...

“...I’m sorry,” Prompto whispers. A part of him wishes he could melt into a puddle, manage to seep through the floor to become one with the earth.

Noctis jerks his head up, reaching out to Prompto almost instantly. “Prom, no, there’s no need to apologize, it wasn’t your fault,” he says in a rush, doing his utmost best to sound reassuring. Prompto detects a hint of horror in his tone, but when he speaks again, it’s gone. “It’s no one’s fault. Placing blame never leads anywhere good -- would you say it’s all Gladio’s fault that this happened?”

Prompto shakes his head vehemently. “No! He was more than a little stupid to go and light the candle after I told him not to, yeah, but I doubt he ever had any contact with magic beforehand -- it wasn’t at all malicious, it was just him being dumb and trying to impress Ignis.”

“And if he came to you and told you that it was all his fault and apologized, what would you do?”

“I’d punch him in the face ‘cause his brain definitely needs a good shake-up, then I’d have a very long talk with him,” Prompto mutters with a touch of petulance, already knowing where this is going.

“Then why the hell are you doing this to me?” Noctis asks at last, exasperated -- but still smiling despite himself. Prompto pouts. “Come here,” Noctis sighs, standing up with open arms.

Prompto hesitates for a second before standing up as well, walking over to Noctis and slowly, almost carefully, accepting the embrace. Once Prompto’s arms are around his waist, Noctis puts his own around the other’s shoulders, holding the edges of his blanket in both hands and thus creating a makeshift barrier between them and the rest of the world.

Prompto closes his eyes and tucks his head on the crook of Noctis’ neck, inhaling deeply so as to convince his body to relax. Noctis pulls back to nuzzle his temple gently, on the edge of playful, before letting his chin rest on Prompto’s shoulder.

“Please don’t apologize for that night again,” Noctis says in a near whisper. “Ever, if possible. It’s really no one’s fault; curses have a knack for getting fulfilled no matter how much you try to stop it. Someone else would have done it eventually.”

“Our luck was just bad enough that we ended up being the chosen ones,” Prompto mutters.

“And even that is debatable, if we’re being honest. Yeah, the aftermath sucks, but we all survived, managed to hold out and defeat them in the end; others might not have had our awesome ingenuity, or support, and then we’d be in way deeper shit than we are today,” Noctis argues. “We’ll heal, with time and with help. Dead people don’t get that luxury.”

“Unless you’re a human turned immortal cat by a curse.”

Noctis snorts. “Unless that, yeah” he nods, swaying them slightly from side to side. “Talk with Monica about this when you can,” he suggests. “She’s here to help us, after all.”

“Yeah. One day.”

“Atta boy.”

“Says the cat.”

“Ex-cat, thank you very much,” Noctis corrects him, nose up in the air.

Their serious countenance dissolves into nothingness, being promptly replaced by silly giggles as their swaying grows in intensity, leading them into making slow circles around the kitchen -- nearly a dance.

“That last one, however, is something you can totally take partial blame on,” Noctis says some time later. “I’m here, giggling and kind of dancing with you because of what all of you did. I’m the one affected and I’m still alive, so I can absolutely say that it’s all you guys’ fault,” he grins.

Prompto sighs loudly and dramatically. “If you insist…”

“That I most certainly do,” Noctis nods.

“Then I guess I have no choice, huh?”

“Indeed.”

“Dork.”

“Right back at you.”

x

Noctis is studying halfheartedly in the kitchen a few hours later when Prompto returns to the topic of magical training, plopping down on the nearest chair while setting a thick stack of blank papers in front of him.

“Okay, so,” he starts. “You got me thinking about training again after our little talk earlier and I remembered an exercise I started doing before the whole,” he pauses, waving a hand dismissively, “Halloween thing.”

“I think I saw you doing it a couple of times,” Noctis frowns. If he tries hard enough, he can summon the memory of jumping on a counter while Prompto tried to transmute individual sheets of paper into various colorful shapes.

“You probably did,” Prompto nods. “Ideally, one could transmute a sheet of paper into any other non-living object, but the difference in initial and final mass is an obstacle, as is the level of detail you’re doing for. The more intricate it is, the harder it is to get it right; that kinda thing.”

“Yeah.”

“So, sheets of paper are obviously really light and don’t have much mass to it, meaning it’s easier to mold, which is why it’s such a popular starting material for this skill. In the current age, it’s cheap too -- certainly a bonus.”

Noctis watches as Prompto closes his eyes and inhales deeply, taking the opportunity to wordlessly nudge his own papers further away, just in case. He would rather Prompto’s attention catch on the right sheet of paper, even though the possibility of that part of the spell going wrong is quite small.

Prompto exhales, frowning in concentration. Soon enough, the topmost sheet starts to twitch, slowly changing its shape, elongating as it does so. The result is a thin, medium-sized tree in brown and green; the trunk and sprawling roots possess a surprisingly high level of detail; the leaves, however…

Noctis tries to contain a snort and almost chokes on it, covering his mouth with a hand to hide it to no avail. Prompto opens his eyes to look at his creation and sighs, unsurprised.

“I guess I’m gonna have to relearn how to balance out my attention to detail,” he states dejectedly, poking the green blob that was most likely supposed to be little individual leaves.

“The bark looks so real and then there’s just- A solid cloud of green,” Noctis comments, lips twitching in his effort to rein in his laughter. His throat itches with the urge to cough, but he manages to ignore it.

“It looks like a child’s drawing, doesn’t it? Go on and laugh before you burst something,” Prompto rolls his eyes, smiling at Noctis’ chuckles.

“What about a pinwheel?”

“Sounds good,” Prompto shrugs.

It takes a handful of tries until he succeeds in making one that spins like it should; at first the folds come out too crooked or asymmetrical for it to work properly, and once they get it to spin, they discover that they have to bulk up the connection between the wheel and the ‘stick’, or else the paper rips too easily.

Next, Prompto makes a little boat in various shades of brown, giving it the appearance of real wood; together they put the plug into the kitchen’s sink and let the faucet run until it’s half-full, putting their little boat to the test so as to watch it float around serenely. Prompto gets his phone out to scour Google for pictures of sailboats, wasting a dozen sheets of paper before they get one that rides along when they blow gently on its sail, staying upright most of the time.

Noctis lets out an ugly snort that devolves into a coughing fit at Prompto’s next creation; once it has passed, he has to bite his lower lip to keep the snickers under control. “Is that supposed to be me?” he asks, pointing at the little black cat that now lays on top of the increasingly shorter stack of papers.

Prompto giggles and scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. “Yeah.”

The figure has an acceptable head and a defined tail; the middle, however, is yet another blob, with four little cones sticking out from it instead of real legs.

Noctis pats his shoulder reassuringly. “You tried,” he says. Prompto swipes his hand away playfully.

“I need to tone down the level of detail,” he frowns.

Noctis says nothing in response to that; being the target of a curse doesn’t make him qualified to give out advice on how to use magic, after all.

Prompto starts to focus once again, unbothered by the neutral weight of Noctis’ gaze. The paper rearranges itself into two crude body shapes -- one grinning wide blonde and a softly smiling black-haired one. The simple lines and blocky coloring give it a childlike charm.

“We’re keeping this one,” Noctis decides.

“I could draw it instead,” Prompto suggests. “It would look way better.”

“Where is the fun in that? Prom, this was made with magic,” Noctis grins.

“Still. Why keep this one if I can draw us something better?”

“If you want a better looking one, better practice making it with magic,” he insists. “Consider this a challenge.”

Prompto huffs and smiles. “Alright then, you’re on.”

“I give you until the end of winter break,” Noctis declares.

“So generous,” Prompto teases.

“Indeed.”

A few snowflakes later, Prompto sighs and rubs his temples, appearing to be in some kind of pain.

“You okay?” Noctis asks.

“Haven’t used magic like this in a while,” Prompto explains. “My head is starting to hurt from concentrating too hard on all those shapes, so I better stop soon. Any last requests?”

Noctis picks up the little black cat, laying it on the center of his own hand. “What about a chocobo to keep this one company?” he suggests.

Prompto chuckles. “Good idea. Can’t guarantee it will look any good, though.”

Noctis shrugs, unperturbed by the idea. Prompto casts the spell for the last time that day, creating a little yellow chocobo in the image of his beloved plushie. The legs come out way too short and the wings are mere stubs, but the beak and head feathers look pretty accurate, so it could have been worse. Noctis sets the cat next to it, nudging it closer until the figures are almost touching.

“This is more than enough for one day,” Prompto says. “If you wanna keep any, claim it now or it’s going to the trash.”

“So harsh,” Noctis shakes his head, taking the cat, the chocobo and one of the snowflakes -- having already stashed away the magic drawing of them earlier.

“That’s just how it is,” Prompto shrugs, collecting the rest, proceeding to toss it all in the trash bin, then moving to the sink to get the ones that are still there.

Noctis stares at his snowflake, absentmindedly tracing its lines with his eyes. “Hey, Prom,” he calls out a minute later, continuing when Prompto hums. “What are we gonna do for Christmas?”

Prompto abandons his perusal of the fridge’s contents to shoot him a thoughtful look. “I don’t think there are any really concrete plans yet,” he replies. “But I’d be willing to bet this house on the fact that we’re gonna be spending it with the Amicitias,” he chuckles, turning back to the fridge.

“Yeah,” Noctis snickers. “Have any gift ideas yet?”

Prompto stares at him blankly for a few heartbeats. “Shit.”

“Thought so.”

“I kinda know what to get Ignis, but that’s it. We’re gonna have to decide and then go buy it,” he says, voice full of regret. “I was so focused on the exams that the proximity of Christmas didn’t really compute,” he mutters.

Noctis groans dramatically. “Are we really going out to go shopping four days before Christmas while I’m still recovering from an illness?”

Prompto smiles ruefully. “Sorry buddy, but there is no way I’m suffering alone.”

“You’re heartless,” Noctis shakes his head. Prompto laughs.

“I’ll make it up to you somehow,” he says.

“You better!”

“We’ll just have to bundle you up properly and rest plenty of times,” Prompto soothes him.

“If I die, it’s your fault.”

Prompto scoffs. “As if I’d let you. You’re stuck with me,” he says, sticking out his tongue childishly.

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better,” Noctis drawls, as dry as a desert.

Prompto nods. “Of course it does, I’m amazing.”

“Only in your dreams,” Noctis retorts. Prompto clicks his tongue.

“Rude.”

“It’s what you get,” Noctis shrugs.

“I was gonna let you choose what we play tonight, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna kick your ass instead!”

Noctis groans. “Please don’t make me suffer through a FPS again.”

“Too late,” Prompto grins.

“If you choose the game, I choose our dinner, then. I want Chinese.”

Prompto mulls it over for a moment before nodding. “Suggestion accepted.”

Noctis stands up to collect his stuff. “Let’s go already. Hopefully the time will pass quickly,” he grumbles.

“Prepare yourself to lose,” Prompto singsongs with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Chapter Text

They’ve been out for three hours, going from shop to shop; weaving through crowds while struggling to not get separated when Prompto’s stomach starts to protest. He pulls Noctis out of the river of people so that they may talk with normal voices -- instead of shouts -- without other people jostling them, presenting his plan to head towards the nearby mall and find something to eat. Unsurprisingly, Noctis agrees immediately.

Prompto takes a deep breath upon entering the mall, grateful for the resurgence of his personal bubble. The sidewalks outside are swarming with people, loud sounds and bright lights -- a sensory overload in the making even for the most resilient of people. He thinks his ears might still be ringing from the time they went by a salesman with a megaphone in hand.

“How are you feeling?” he asks Noctis.

His friend blinks sluggishly. “Tired and overwhelmed. Felt like I was gonna get trampled out there,” he shudders.

“No kidding,” Prompto agrees, linking arms with Noctis. “Let’s hurry to the food court, I’ve been craving a milkshake for two days,” he says, guiding the other along.

“God, I’d kill for a burger,” Noctis groans. Prompto pats his hand soothingly.

“Considering how busy the court probably is, we might just have to do that.”

Prompto navigates the mall with the ease of familiarity, keeping an eye on the store fronts they pass by for any potential gifts. They already have something for Ignis and Iris, but the two other Amicitias are still giftless, much to Prompto’s displeasure.

They adopt identical expressions of weariness upon reaching the packed food court. The lines are long and there are barely any free tables around; Prompto isn’t exactly surprised, but it’s a hassle nevertheless.

“How about I go buy the food and you snag us a table?” he suggests.

“Good idea,” Noctis says, grateful.

“Double cheeseburger, no veggies,” Prompto enunciates flatly. “Soda or milkshake?”

“Soda.”

Prompto passes Noctis the bags he had been holding and sets out in search of the end of their favorite place’s queue, parking himself behind the last person with a sigh. He gives the menu a cursory glance, already knowing what he’ll order, before ultimately taking out his phone to check his group chat with the others as a way to pass the time.

Gladio had formally invited them to spend Christmas with the Amicitias some time after lunch, taking the time to explain that his family has a tradition of having the party and cook out on the 24th, which enables them to relax without worries on the 25th; Prompto is honestly all for it. Ignis had promised to celebrate Christmas Eve with them, but also let them know that he wouldn’t be sleeping over in order to spend Christmas proper with his uncle.

Noctis had snickered, elbowing Prompto gently and telling him to imagine Gladio’s pout at that; Prompto had choked on his snort at said mental image, knowing such an expression was quite likely.

It feels like an eternity has passed by the time Prompto finally collects the tray with their meal. He steps into the eating area and looks around, searching for a familiar head of spiky black hair.

Noctis sees him and lifts an arm; Prompto sighs in relief as he makes his way over, nearly melting onto the chair at the bliss of being off of his feet.

“I thought I had lost you for sure already,” Noctis tells him, alluding to the long wait.

“You and me both, buddy,” Prompto shakes his head, stabbing the straw through the lid of his milkshake so he could finally take a blissful sip.

Noctis pops a handful of fries into his mouth and starts to uncover his burger. “We can be out of his place after finding something for Gladio and Clarus, right?”

“Right,” Prompto nods, nudging the shopping bags under the table with a foot. “We ended up buying more than we needed, even,” he says, thinking of the notebooks, pens and other trinkets they had acquired on their exploration of the shopping district. Noctis huffs a little laugh and takes a big bite out of his burger, prompting Prompto to unwrap his own.

They eat their meal in relative silence and stick around for a bit afterwards, letting their feet recover some more from all the walking. They decide via mutual agreement to look for the remaining gifts inside the mall, entirely unwilling to brave the crowds outside for even longer than they already have -- well, they’ll have to go through it when it’s time to leave, but that’s inevitable, and as such, doesn’t count.

They end up buying a couple shirts for Gladio after spotting some with pictures from a series he likes -- Castlevania, if Prompto’s remembering it right. He vaguely recognizes the characters on it, deciding is as good a gift as any.

Clarus’ present requires them to walk around for another good part of an hour; they find it in a store full of trinkets and souvenirs, declaring it perfect without thinking twice about it. Prompto presents it to the cashier with a self-satisfied smile identical to Noctis’ own, accepting the resulting package gratefully.

He links arms with Noctis again upon leaving the shop, sighing contentedly. “So nice to have the gifts situation finally taken care of. You ready to brave the crowds again in order to make our way home?” Prompto asks, leading them to his preferred exit.

“As if we have any choice in the matter,” Noctis whines, smiling faintly. “No other way out, unless we, like… grow wings or something. That’d be rad,” he muses.

Prompto hums dreamily. “It would. Alas, we have to suffer here on the ground instead.”

“Yeah,” Noctis sighs. “So let’s get it over with already,” he insists, quickening his steps, forcing Prompto to do the same. “I want to get home, flop onto the bed and not move for a good while.”

“Sure thing, oh kitty of mine,” Prompto smirks, patting Noctis’ arm condescendly. His laughter at Noctis’ exaggerated scowl follows them out of the mall and into the streets, swiftly becoming lost amidst the crowd.

x

Ignis visits them on the afternoon of the 23rd, bringing his overnight bag -- for when they head over to the Amicitia’s later -- and an offering of varied snacks, bought at a grocery store near his house. Prompto tries his damnedest to pay Ignis back for the food, but their friend is unmoved; Noctis shrugs and ruffles through the plastic bag, seeing no point in protesting.

They spend a couple of hours ironing out the details of Noctis’ exams, figuring out how and when to apply them, before doing an impromptu general review of a handful of subjects led by Ignis with occasional commentary from Prompto. They stop after the latter begs for a break, flopping onto the sofa dramatically.

Ignis and Prompto commiserate over their gift hunting experiences for some time, going back and forth about who had been easiest and hardest to shop for amongst their friends. Noctis absentmindedly checks his game apps while listening in to their conversation, taking every possible opportunity to cut in and tease Prompto, just ‘cause he feels like it.

“So Iggy, I’m curious,” Prompto starts some time later. “How are going to divide up your time between us and your uncle, this Christmas?” he asks, leaning in to prod Ignis’ sides. “Was it hard to figure something out or nah?”

“Not really, to be honest,” Ignis shrugs slightly. “It’s quite fortunate that Gladio’s family has Christmas dinner on the Eve, while my uncle and I do so on the 25th; this way, I don’t have to choose one over the other, or worry about having to drive from one place to the other mid-party.”

“That’s true,” Prompto hums.

“So you’re going home right after dinner with us?” Noctis asks.

Ignis smiles. “Not right after, no, but an hour or two later at most. That way, we can all have a bit more fun before I leave,” he explains. Noctis nods.

“Do you think we’re gonna do any decorating? Gladio hasn’t made any mentions to that,” Prompto wonders, pulling up and hugging one of his legs distractedly.

“If we do, it’d be better to do so today,” Ignis says. “That way, we can focus solely on cooking tomorrow.”

Prompto grins. “Another cook-out, just like on Thanksgiving.”

“I am so looking forward to that,” Noctis remarks. He almost starts drooling as he remembers all the food they made that week, having to shake his head faintly to tune back into the conversation.

“--said all the ingredients have been bought already,” Ignis tells them.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Prompto sighs. “I’d die if we had to brave the last-minute shopping crowds again,” he adds. Noctis grimaces, nodding his agreement.

He notices a few signs of nervousness from Ignis and shares a look of curiosity with Prompto; their friend squirms -- in an almost imperceptible manner, mind you -- and adjusts his glasses twice in the span of one minute. Noctis and Prompto stay silent and let him gather his thoughts, pretending to be caught up on their phones in order to give him the time he needs to find the words he’s looking for. His voice is perfectly steady when he finally speaks up, but then again, Noctis hadn’t been expecting anything less.

“I’ve been thinking about inviting Gladio to have dinner with my uncle and I on Christmas,” he tells them, hands laced together and resting on his lap. Noctis watches as Prompto grins, quickly sharing yet another look with him.

“That sounds great!” Prompto enthuses. “He’d probably be pretty happy to go, and I doubt Clarus would have any problem with it,” he continues, masterfully playing the role of encouraging friend.

“Of course he won’t -- he’s been calling Ignis his son-in-law already, as embarrassing as that is, it certainly works as a way to show his approval,” Noctis adds. He exchanges a pleased grin with Prompto when Ignis relaxes a bit after hearing their words.

“My uncle was the one to suggest this, in fact,” he points out, smoothing down his pants. “Said it would be nice if Gladio could join us. It’s not the first time he’s expressed an interest in meeting him.”

“I’m sure everything will go well,” Prompto smiles.

“Do you think the two of them will get along?” Noctis asks.

“I believe so,” Ignis replies, appearing pensive. “They have a handful of interests in common, so I’m confident they’ll be able to find some middle ground.”

“I’m glad to hear that!” Prompto exclaims; the last of Ignis’ tension fades away. Noctis brushes shoulders with Prompto in satisfaction.

The conversation drifts off into other topics after that. They stay there in the living room, talking and snacking, until 6pm -- at which point they decide it’s time to get ready to head out. After a brief discussion, they decide to call up an Uber, not looking forward to depending on public transportation two days before Christmas.

It isn’t long until they are standing at the front door of the Amicitia’s, with Ignis being the one to ring the doorbell as Noctis and Prompto hang back a little. They share looks of confusion when the ringing of the bell prompts the sound of more than one set of running feet inside the house, wordlessly wondering if they should get worried.

The door is basically thrown open with a yell of triumph by Clarus; beyond him, they’re able to see both Gladio and Iris pout and cross their arms petulantly. Prompto is the first to break the ensuing silence.

“Uh... What just happened here?”

“I just got myself at least three easy points,” Clarus replies, clearly gloating.

Noctis perks up. “Points for what?”

Clarus ignores the question for the moment. “Welcome to our family’s Christmas celebration! Before you enter the house, there is a tradition we must introduce you to,” he says, smiling widely. “If you could do me the favor of looking up to the door frame, you shall notice the presence of a mistletoe,” he suggests, pointing at it. Ignis sighs while Noctis and Prompto groan.

“I’m starting to get scared of what this tradition entails,” Noctis whispers to Prompto, but Clarus continues before his friend can say anything in response.

“The kids call it the Amicitia Kissing Wars, and I suppose that’s pretty apt,” he shrugs.

Prompto raises his hand hesitantly, squirming in place. “What… kind of kissing is it? Do we have to participate?”

“Any! On the cheek, forehead, hair, hand, it’s entirely up to you,” Clarus explains; Prompto breathes out a sigh of relief. “If any of you truly wish to abstain, then we’ll respect your decision, but it’s just a fun little thing we do every year.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a monster,” Gladio protests.

“I simply have more experience,” Clarus retorts. “You will get there one day, Padawans.”

Noctis snorts, already getting an idea of how it could work and imagining the scenarios it must have created over the years.

“What are the rules, then?” Ignis asks.

“Right, so. Every Amicitia gets a handful of mistletoe to hide wherever they want in the house. Our job is to get to kiss the others as many times as possible, so you have to be strategic about placement and how to lure people in to the spot. No dragging allowed. If you kiss the other person before they can react by kissing you first, that’s two points for you. If both of you kiss each other at the same time, that’s one point for each.”

“What about cases in which there’s more than one person under the mistletoe?” Noctis asks, glancing at the one over the door.

“You can’t get points by kissing someone that has already kissed you.”

“But others would be fair game, right?” Prompto frowns, receiving a nod from Clarus.

“So, you boys gonna join in or what?”

Noctis and Prompto squint at one another, sending a very brief glance in Ignis’ direction before nodding. With no word of warning, both boys step forward and deposit a kiss on Ignis’ cheeks, immediately cackling at the surprised -- almost affronted -- looks they get from the boy and from Clarus.

“That’s two points for each of us, right?” Noctis asks, feeling very pleased with himself and draping an arm over Prompto’s shoulders.

“And none for Iggy,” Prompto comments.

They turn towards one another nearly in sync to place a kiss on the other’s cheek, grinning like the competitive little shits they are in the aftermath.

“Now we have three points,” Prompto singsongs.

Ignis and Clarus share an incredulous look that quickly smoothes out into determination, and they also exchange cheek kisses. Gladio grumbles in the background, much to their amusement.

Ignis is allowed to enter after that, leaving Noctis and Prompto to exchange kisses with Clarus before they can also step inside -- the door being closed at last.

Prompto turns to Clarus after it all, still tucked into Noctis’ side. “Do we get some mistletoe too?”

“I said all Amicitias get some, didn’t I?” Clarus smirks. Noctis feels Prompto quietly flail at such a response.

“He’s smooth,” he whispers. Prompto nods helplessly. “What’s the prize?” he asks in a normal volume.

“$20 worth of snacks. Winner’s choice,” Gladio replies.

“Cool.”

Clarus hands each of them a few pieces of plastic mistletoe, the action prompting him to remember something. “Oh, and carrying them on you doesn’t count. You have to set it down somewhere and somehow get another to go there, so carrying it would be cheating. Placing it once the person is already there won’t work either.”

“Those are all very thoughtful rules,” Ignis comments.

“We’ve been doing this for many years,” Clarus explains with a grin. Ignis nods in understanding. “Since Ignis will be leaving tomorrow night, we moved the end of the game from 23:59 on the 25th to whenever he leaves instead, for fairness’ sake.”

Ignis widens his eyes. “There’s no need--”

“Nonsense. There’s no point in continuing the competition if one of the players isn’t around,” Clarus cuts in, with a tone of finality.

“We were putting up the tree before you got here!” Iris tells them, taking both Noctis and Prompto by the hand to where it’s been set. “We still need to decorate it, though.”

“We’ll help you with it,” Noctis smiles, ruffling her hair fondly. He looks at the medium-sized plastic tree -- it passes Noctis’ shoulder in height, though not by much -- his eyes following towards the ornaments strewn around it, as well as the handful of baubles already hanging from the tree.

“Do you guys want to hide your mistletoe now? We can exile ourselves to a room while you take turns with it,” Gladio suggests.

“Maybe a little later? It’s tree time,” Prompto grins, setting his overnight bag on the couch, Noctis following suit.

“Are those all the ornaments?” Noctis inquires.

“There’s more in the garage!” Iris explains. “It’s still in the boxes we used to move. I can show you where it is!”

Noctis shrugs and trails behind her with Prompto, letting the girl lead the way to said garage. He thinks he sees her grin in delight and squints in suspicion, but ends up shrugging it off for the time being, guessing that they’ll figure it out sooner or later.

It ends up being sooner; Iris points to the box in question -- labelled ‘holiday stuff’ -- and Noctis barely has the time to see the mistletoe inside it before she is kissing both their hands and cackling madly.

“I got both of you!! Four points for me!” she exclaims, dancing around happily. Noctis and Prompto grin at her joy, the latter swiftly steps closer in muffled steps, picking her up from behind in one fell swoop.

“Let’s see if you’re so happy if we tickle you!” he says, beginning his merciless attack of her sides as she yells and squirms. Noctis takes note of the ‘we’ and dutifully joins in, tickling her until she’s breathless.

Prompto sets her down then, keeping his hands on her shoulders as she wobbles in place slightly, wiping off the tears in her eyes. Noctis sees this as the perfect opportunity to land a kiss on Prompto’s temple, grinning deviously when the boy scowls at him.

“Now I have seven points,” Noctis says with a wink. Prompto curses under his breath.

“I hate you,” he says. Noctis smiles and shrugs nonchalantly in response. He goes back to the box and throws the mistletoe to Iris, studying the rest of its contents.

“Should we take everything in here?” he asks.

“We already got most of the ornaments. Dad said something about the fairy lights, though,” Iris explains.

“Right,” he nods, waving Prompto over so that they can find the lights in question amidst the mess. They snark at one another while untangling the cords, wiping their brows in mock exhaustion once they’re finally done so as to make their way back to the living room shortly after that.

Prompto goes to decorate the tree with Iris while Noctis gets recruited to help Gladio with the lights; they move closer to the wall and drape the fine string along it, using the family portraits as support. Noctis finds this a surprisingly good idea -- when lit, the photos will be softly illuminated, highlighting the Amicitia’s history.

He hears a high-pitched squeal and turns around just in time to see Clarus scoop Iris up by the armpits to land the loudest, wettest, most disgusting kiss on her cheek as she squirms and protests heartily. He laughs with the others in the aftermath, watching as Iris wipes her cheek with one of her sleeves in distaste.

“Don’t think any of you will escape the dad kiss just because you’re teenagers,” Clarus warns them all before going back to setting the fairy lights in another part of the living room. Noctis shares an amused look with Gladio, who leans in to whisper conspiratorially.

“It really is as disgusting as it looks like,” he tells Noctis, grimacing for half a second.

“I guess I’ll find out,” Noctis smiles crookedly.

Once they’ve reached the end of the cord, Gladio goes to help his father while Noctis shuffles to where Prompto is, draping himself over the boy’s back like the cat he used to be.

“Noct!” Prompto exclaims, shifting to accommodate the extra weight without complaint. “Help us decide -- should we top the tree with the angel or the star?”

“The star, obviously.”

“I wanna be the one to put it in place!” Iris says, bouncing on the tips of her toes and grinning widely. Noctis’ gaze goes from her to the tree, squinting slightly as he measures their different in height. She’s not so short as to be unable to reach the tip completely, but with a glance to the rest of the ornaments already placed on the tree, Noctis decides to play it safe.

“I’ll help you,” he smiles, waiting until she has the star in hand to lift her up and step closer to the tree so she can set it down -- the final touch on their little christmas tree.

Noctis sets her on the ground and takes a few steps back to study it in all its glory: with all the baubles and figurines hanging properly on its branches, it’s way more colorful now than it was when they arrived. Prompto had swiped a string of fairy lights to arrange around the tree, and now he only needs to find an electrical socket, but with Iris’ help, they’re quickly turned on.

“The two of you did well,” he nods, rubbing Iris’ back and tugging Prompto closer with an arm around his waist.

“Of course we did,” Prompto states, nose up in the air.

“Anything less would be unacceptable,” Iris agrees, uncharacteristically serious. Noctis chuckles and pulls them even closer, squeezing them until they laugh and protest.

The decorating slowly dwindles to a stop as the tasks get completed. Ignis and Clarus both stand under the doorway to the kitchen to inspect everyone’s work, nodding in approval and doling out praise. They scatter for a moment, looking for food or a bathroom break, and Noctis makes sure that no one is around before lifting one of the sofa’s cushions to drop a piece of mistletoe under it, sitting right next to the spot once he’s done -- knowing without a shadow of doubt that Prompto will eventually plop down on it.

Lo and behold, his prediction comes true mere three minutes later; his friend sits with a sigh and is welcomed by a kiss on his hair. Prompto turns to face him with a frown -- Noctis guesses he had momentarily forgotten the entire competition -- that quickly becomes a scowl upon seeing Noctis’ shit-eating grin. 

He rolls his eyes after Noctis points out where the mistletoe had been hidden, crossing his arms petulantly and starting to sulk. Noctis laughs and nuzzles him insistently, smothering his friend with affection until he laughs despite himself.

Iris settles next to them some minutes later. With only a look, Noctis and Prompto agree to share the win -- the mistletoe is still hidden, so it still counts. Noctis leans back to give Prompto access and goes for her hair, watching on the edge of his vision as Prompto goes for her shoulder. She squeals in surprise and pouts adorably.

“How many points is that, eleven for me already? I’m getting a good head start here,” Noctis gloats. Prompto swats his arm, curling up against him more firmly while Iris shifts until she can squeeze herself under one of Noctis’ arms, causing him to snicker.

What am I, a teddy bear? he thinks, amused at their antics. Still, he does his best to accommodate both of them; he has never been one to say no to cuddling -- he certainly won’t become one now.

Iris turns on the TV as Prompto brings out his phone to scroll through his social media feeds, letting out the occasional giggle. Noctis divides his time between watching whatever Iris is watching and peeking at Prompto’s phone, laughing at a few of the memes they come across.

He’s focusing on the TV when Prompto taps his side urgently, earning a questioning frown from Noctis. Prompto puts his finger over his lips -- the well-known request for silence -- and discreetly tilts his head towards the staircase. Noctis turns his head only the barest bit; just enough for him to be able to recognize Ignis and Gladio, standing close to one another, talking in low tones.

“I bet Ignis is gonna ask him now,” Prompto whispers to him. 

Noctis remembers the talk they had earlier that day, fully intending to devote the entirety of his attention to eavesdropping -- sending out a quick crooked grin to Iris when she lowers the volume of the TV to receive a borderline evil one in return -- shit-eating in the way only younger siblings can be. Noctis has seen it plenty of times in his years as a cat.

They watch as Ignis keeps his cool despite the nerves, repeating to Gladio the same thing he had said to Noctis and Prompto some hours earlier. In his surprise, Gladio fumbles so hard for a reply that it comes out louder and more enthusiastic than intended, causing both of them to blush slightly.

Prompto sinks deeper into his seat to hide his snicker at it all. Noctis tunes out the rest of their conversation to copy Prompto, doing his best to stop his shoulders from shaking and thus giving him away. A few seconds later, Iris raises the TV’s volume back up -- as if nothing had happened.

Gladio approaches them with a scowl, his cheeks still tinted pink. “And what are the two of you snickering about there, huh?” he asks, crossing his arms in an attempt to intimidate them into talking. Too bad they all know he isn’t really pissed off, so the effect is almost null.

It takes Noctis, Prompto and Iris less than a second to turn around and plant a kiss wherever they can -- mostly on Gladio’s forearms, though Iris has to settle for one over her brother’s waist. Behind Gladio, Ignis catches on swiftly, placing yet another kiss on him -- this time on his shoulder.

Gladio’s scowl deepens considerably, taking on a petulant edge that has Ignis smirking and the rest of them laughing unabashedly. But they aren’t finished yet; Ignis is inside the mistletoe’s area of influence as well, and none of them have forgotten that, leading to yet more kisses, which leads Iris to nearly fall off the sofa. To Noctis’ displeasure, however, Ignis had decided to smooch his hair at the same time Noctis had gone for Ignis’ hand, leaving them with one point each. Prompto cackles madly at this.

Noctis takes advantage of Prompto’s moment of distraction to draw him into a playful headlock, messing his hair until it loses all semblance of order before immediately standing up to run away from Prompto’s fingers lest the boy moves to tickle him in retaliation.

Unexpectedly, Prompto jumps on his back with a war cry; it takes all of Noctis’ long-cultivated equilibrium to keep them upright. When he starts to shake himself like a dog trying to get dry, Prompto yelps and hangs on tight, becoming a human-sized koala to not fall off.

Noctis grabs hold of Prompto’s thighs and starts to run like a madman, grinning deviously. Prompto screams way too close to his ear -- nearly loud enough to hurt -- but he ignores it, knowing it will turn to laughter before long.

He’s out of breath by the time he collapses on the sofa with Prompto still on his back, turning a deaf ear -- so to speak -- to his friend’s complaints about squishing him. Iris’ eyes sparkle as she pounces on his arm, appearing ready to turn on the kicked puppy look.

“Can we do that too, pleeeease?” she asks.

Gladio plucks her off the sofa and holds her with both hands on her armpits like she weighs nothing, shaking her lightly. “I’d very much like to know why you ask him when your brother is right here,” he says, voice purposely flat.

“You’d do it, Gladdy?” Iris asks, blinking her big brown eyes, making an effort to sound innocent.

Instead of replying, Gladio adjusts his hold on her until she’s over his shoulder and walks out of the front door. Noctis, Prompto and Ignis can just barely make out her screams as Gladio presumably starts running down the street.

“Welp, I sure hope no one thinks he’s kidnapping her and calls the police,” Prompto says, breaking the amused silence that has settled over the room.

“Indeed,” Ignis chuckles.

“What’s this about kidnappings and the police?” Clarus asks while making his way down the stairs.

“Gladio just took off the street with Iris over his shoulder,” Noctis states conversationally.

Clarus pauses for a second, then shakes his head, laughing. “The neighbors are probably used to their antics at this point.”

Prompto makes himself comfortable in the sofa again -- after finally succeeding in his quest of getting Noctis off of him -- before turning to Clarus. “So what are the plans, Mr. Head of the House?”

“Well, I was planning to ban all of you from the kitchen in order to start doing some meal prep for tomorrow,” he replies amusedly. “Let you boys rest and what not. Though I am prepared to allow Ignis to help, since I know he’d insist,” he adds, glancing to the boy in question.

“Certainly,” Ignis tilts his head.

“I’m almost offended by the ban,” Noctis says. “Not quite there, but almost. The happiness I’ll get from staying here and lazing around instead weighs pretty heavily on the scales.”

Clarus snorts. “I must say I am not surprised,” he states, to which Noctis shrugs. “Anyhow, I suggest you take whatever you want from the kitchen now, before it becomes off-limits. I won’t tolerate any of you trying to steal a sample.”

Prompto raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll be fine, I brought my own snacks.”

“Our own snacks,” Noctis corrects him.

“What he said,” Prompto grins.

“Good. Please let Gladio and Iris know, whenever they get back,” Clarus says.

Prompto nods, retrieving the TV remote from where Iris left left it. “Will do.”

x

Noctis is snoozing at Prompto’s side when the two younger Amicitias come back, rubbing their hands together for warmth while trying to stop themselves from shivering. Prompto snickers at the pitiful image they make, with their windswept hair and red noses.

“That’s what you get for going out in the middle of December without proper clothing,” he singsongs, pretending to be hurt when Gladio throws a stray bauble -- made of foam -- straight at his head.

“Ugh, I need something warm to drink,” Gladio groans. “Where’s Iggy?”

“In the kitchen with your dad. We have all been banned from entering it, so you’re going to have to put in a request,” Prompto hums.

“Great,” Gladio sighs, dropping heavily onto the sofa. Prompto considers stealing a kiss -- since the mistletoe is still under the cushion he’s sitting on -- but dismisses the idea on the grounds of being too cozy right where he is.

Iris lifts one of her brother’s arms and sneaks under it, pressing herself onto Gladio’s side, yawning cutely. “I’m tired,” she states, scooting around on the sofa until she’s perfectly comfortable under Gladio’s protection.

“Yeah, you ran a lot, squirt,” he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on her arm.

“So did you,” she exhales.

“Sure, but I’m older than you,” he shrugs, grinning wolfishly when she pokes his side.

“I’m gonna nap. When is dinner?”

“Should be happening soon,” Prompto replies, smiling at the adorable picture the siblings make. He may or may not take an actual picture of it.

“Dad said something about takeout. I’ll ask him about it in a bit.”

Iris’ only reply is a sleepy hum. Prompto quietly sends the photo to Clarus.

When Prompto glances at the siblings five minutes later, he notices Gladio has nodded off as well, with his mouth open and head thrown back. Prompto snorts as he takes a photo of this as well.

Fifteen minutes later, Clarus emerges from the kitchen with a tray laden with four mugs. He goes to set it on the coffee table and stops short upon noticing nearly all of when are asleep -- with Prompto halfway there already.

“I swear, all my kids are sleep monsters,” he whispers, shaking his head. Prompto laughs silently as he reaches carefully for one of the mugs. “Well, not all of you. God bless Ignis, my non-sleep monster son,” Clarus adds.

“Gladio was going to ask about dinner,” Prompto says after taking a sip of the warm cocoa.

“I ordered some pizzas for us, they should be arriving within the hour,” Clarus tells him, looking at his watch.

Prompto pokes Noctis until his friend stirs, frowning and grumbling all the while. He shoves his mug under Noctis’ nose to get him to open an eye, clicking his tongue when Noctis tries to steal it.

“You have your own,” Prompto states. Noctis mumbles something Prompto doesn’t catch and picks up a mug from the tray.

Clarus has woken up Gladio and Iris in the meantime; Iris rubs her eyes as Gladio wipes away the line of drool from the corner of his mouth, discussing something with his father in low tones. A moment later, Clarus starts to make his way back to the kitchen, but stops short before turning to Prompto.

“Right, I almost forgot. The last few nights have been fairly cold, so I moved the spare mattress from the study to Iris’ room,” he explains, then pretends to hide his mouth while lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “She was very excited about it.”

“It’s like a sleepover!” Iris grins.

“Of course,” Clarus nods. “Take care not to go to sleep too late, however -- we’re going to have a busy, early day tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” Iris acquiesces, swinging her legs absentmindedly.

“Good girl,” Clarus smiles. “By the way, Prompto, thanks for the photo; I think it’s one for the album.”

“Happy to be of service,” Prompto finger-guns. Noctis snorts, swatting his arm for the action, but Prompto regrets nothing.

The next few hours pass almost like magic; it feels like Prompto blinks and suddenly it’s bedtime. Everyone shuffles into their toasty warm beds, content and full of good food.

Iris is indeed very happy at having Prompto and Noctis sleep in her room -- the three of them talk in increasingly lower tones, both boys staying awake only through sheer force of will to humour her until she nods off mid-word. Prompto snickers about this for a moment, bringing the thick blanket up to his chin and burrowing under it with a happy, incoherent noise.

He doesn’t even notice himself falling asleep.