Private - Fancy Title Here

My, what big feet you have. . .

*HEADBUTT*	100.0%	[ 199 ]
Total Votes:			[ 199 ]

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

Luxury Starshine

Ignis frowned at the unmistakable sound of yelling coming from within the prince’s apartment. He’d heard it all the way from the stairwell, and while for a moment he had hoped it was a noisy neighbor, he knew better than to think anyone but the prince himself would be so rude in a building that was made up of mostly crownguard, anyway. Though what he could possibly be yelling about. . .

Ah, well. If Prompto was present – and unless he was mistaken, that was his voice he was also hearing – it was rather obvious, wasn’t it? He carefully balanced the groceries in his arms, the keyed in the code to enter, brow drawing together at the full force of the argument. Discarding his shoes in the entry, he stepped deeper, the sight of the boys entirely expected with the audio display he’d already been subjected to. There was Noctis, sulky and angry and ready to explode, and Prompto there across from him, shoulders slumped and with a stubbornness in his expression. Nothing constructive would come of this. He cleared his throat.

“I could use assistance, if you wouldn’t mind.” He directed his steps toward the kitchen, only pausing to specify. “Prompto.” For a few moments longer, a charged silence hung heavy behind him, but then the distinctive sound of hurried footsteps followed, and the blond was pulling bags from his arms, helping to put away what wouldn’t immediately be used under his efficient direction.

“Look, Ignis, I know what you’re – ”

“Could you please wash and cut these?” He placed the leiden peppers in front of the blond, smiling slightly at his startled expression. “Finely diced, please. We wouldn’t want his highness picking them all out.” Not that finely diced would stop him, but if he had to work for it, he wouldn’t even think to suspect what he blended into the rest of the food.

“S-Sure!”

Leaving him to it, Ignis set up the rice maker to cook, then turned his attention to the meat, a tender sirloin that would be absolute perfect for the dish he had in mind. They settled into an almost comfortable silence as they worked, but it couldn’t last. Though he’d cut off the blond earlier, he had lured him in here for precisely the conversation he was expecting.

“Noctis,” he started, paused as he carefully sliced a bit of connective tissue from the meat, “has never been especially skilled at connecting with people. Understand that you are the first real friend he’s made.”

“That’s not true!” the blond was quick to protest. “You and Gladio – ”

“ – were chosen for him,” Ignis provided, leveling a brief look at the blond. Seeing he had almost finished with the peppers, he handed him another small bag, this one containing two sweet onions. “I was six when I was sworn as his retainer.”

“Dude.”

“And the Amicitias are literally born to protect the royal line.” He cut the meat into strips, then down to more manageable pieces. “While we are all quite fond of each other, our friendship has and always will be intertwined with duty.” Setting the meat aside, he washed his hands and pulled a pan from the cabinet, dropping a wallop of butter and a splash of olive oil within before turning on the heat. A minute or two and it would be ready for the first ingredient, and then he’d turn his attention to blending the sauce. “You chose Noctis for himself. Not because he’s the prince, or use him for your own gain. To you he is Noctis first, and the prince after, is that not right?” As far as he could tell, though he himself hadn’t seen it at first, the blond’s inclusion in the prince’s life had a largely positive effect. As briefly as he’d known the blond, he was loathe to see that slip away.

“Well. . .yeah, but.” The blond fell silent, fidgeting in place for a moment, letting out a gusty sigh before he spoke again. “If I just let him throw money at my problems, isn’t that the same thing? Then I’m just taking advantage of him, too.”

Ignis frowned, lips pressing tightly together. That wasn’t the same thing at all.

“But you’d be alive.” He added the meat to the pan, giving it a stir before turning the heat down slightly. “Understand, more than anything, that’s what Noctis wants.” Shocking, that he would wish for his best friend to live, and when discovering said friend could not afford the medical care he needed, he wished to step in and help. Which was not at all the same thing as using the prince as the blond seemed to suggest. “Even if it costs him your friendship, I believe so long as you were alive, he’d consider it worth it. He will not back down on this.” He gave the meat another stir, then gathered up the vegetables the blond had cut. It was almost ready for them.

“If you cannot let him help you,” Ignis added, pausing with his hands full of finely (if somewhat unevenly) diced vegetables to level another frank look, “I suggest you find a way to compromise.” He dropped the peppers and onion in with the meat, giving it a thorough stir as he spoke over the sizzling. “Consider it, at least.”

Ignis almost thought he’d pushed too hard in the long silence that followed, but when he looked away from the stove, the blond was giving him an altogether peculiar look. Ignis merely cocked a brow, waiting, and after moment more, the blond gave a resolute nod.

“I can try to do that.” He didn’t sound so sure about it, but Ignis would take what he could get.

“Go on, then,” he made a little shooing motion with his stirring spoon, lips curving in a small smile. “You know His Highness is in full pout mode by now. Perhaps you can speak like rational beings now that you’ve both cooled off a little?”

The blond started to speak, then seemed to hesitate, shoulders curving downward in a physical manifestation of his retreat. After a moment, he gave another small nod, managing a quick “thanks Iggy!” before he bounced from the room. He did wonder what the blond had been about to say, but if he couldn’t say it, well. Perhaps it was best left unspoken, anyway.

It would have to do.

[Luxury Starshine]

It wasn't so much that he didn't remember it, but really, the morning after he'd fallen asleep at Ignis' home so drunk he couldn't even stand, was just a bunch of foggy moments held together by a piece of string. He mostly remembered the headache, and how it had made his entire being hurt. He remembered wanting to die, and just because everything ached. He didn't really remember the car ride, though he remembered how the sun hurt. He didn't think he could forget being told that once, King Regis had pulled out a Thermos of Ventus' eggnog in a meeting. He didn't think Ignis would lie to him, not about something so ridiculous, but it didn't feel real. Like the king was just a person. He was, wasn't he? Like Noctis, a person who had a title. Yet he couldn't help but feel...out of place hearing it. Perhaps that was why it stuck with him more clearly.

That conversation had made him forget that he was in pain. It had made him forget that he was dying. It had even made him forget that Ignis hated everything about him for a moment. It was just a moment, and then Ignis' phone chimed and all that forgetfulness fled, and he was just a pathetic, dying guy with a hangover again. He was happy to flee the car with the bundle of food in his hand.

Inside his house he stuck the food in the fridge without even looking at what was inside. It would probably need to be separated out later, but that was later, and the fridge was safe for now. Right now, to say that the aspirin had done wonders for him was to speak a lie, and by the time he was up in his room he barely had the presence of mind to plug in his phone to charge before he collapsed in bed, asleep again before he could even pull the blankets up around him.

It wasn't really like sleeping was much better. He wasn't in pain when he was asleep, but his dreams were never pleasant, and their stresses lingered inside him even after he opened his eyes and couldn't even remember what they were about. He didn't know what time it was when he next really woke up, not at first, if only because he was running for the bathroom, coughing so harshly he thought he'd vomit before he actually got the flowers out.

He hadn't coughed at all last night, even though he'd actually been around Ignis in a much more intimate setting than he was used to. He spared a thought as to why, and he decided it was the eggnog. Was that a thing? Alcohol putting a stopper on your hana? He didn't know. Was there research into that? He didn't know that either. At the end of his coughing fit though, he decided that if it did work like that, you'd have to keep someone drunk pretty constantly, because now his sink as filled with more flowers than he'd ever coughed up before, like all the flowers he should have coughed up had attacked at once.

How much longer could he go on like this?

Prompto had been panting over the sink for a small eternity when he heard his phone ringing with the ringtone he'd set specifically for Noctis. He wasn't really completely over the hangover, he found as he wobble-ran for his phone, his head pounded, and everything still hurt, yet he was happy to find that he could manage a chipper sounding "Hey!" when he put it to his ear.

"Hey!" Noctis returned on the other end. "How was yesterday?" Anxiety flared up inside him. Had Ignis told him? That he was alone in this house? That he'd spent the night in Ignis' uncle's home instead?

"It was good!" He went for instead, deciding that unless Noctis actually called him out on it, he wasn't going to give anything away. "You know, the usual. Opened presents, ate food, watched you be a dork on T.V...The usual."

"Hey, come on, I wasn't that bad this year."

"Dude, you are always that bad."

"Jerk," Noctis pouted at him, and Prompto grinned, knowing it wasn't even a bad pout, especially when, a moment later he spoke without any pout at all. "Did you like your gift?"

For a second, Prompto broke. Noctis'...gift? What gift? Oh. Oh! The gift! The gift that had been Ignis' original purpose in coming over. The gift that was still left wrapped down on his kitchen counter because he hadn't opened it before Ignis had practically kidnapped him. That gift!

"Don't...tell me Ignis didn't bring it. He said he did!"

"No, no, he totally did! Sorry. Spaced for a second there!"

"Are-are you okay?" Ah, s**t, now Noctis sounded concerned. He had to fix it.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just haven't been up too long. Food coma." Sure, the truth was more like booze coma, but whatever, saying he hadn't been awake very long was true enough.

For a second, it seemed like a victory, because on the other end, Noctis gave a small laugh. The next second, it shattered, because the urge to cough came on him too strongly to resist, and when he'd finished with that, Noctis didn't say anything about gifts, and food, and the holiday that they'd just celebrated. Instead he got, "Have you told him yet?"

Had he confessed to Ignis, that was what Noctis was really asking. They hadn't really talked about it so bluntly since the day Noctis had found out, but here it was, the conversation he'd tried to avoid, even knowing it couldn't be avoided forever. "No, I. I haven't. And." Prompto sighed, deeply, and that too made him want to cough. "I'm not going to, Noct."

"What?! Prompto! You said you were going to!" He hated the edge of panic to Noctis' voice. He hated that he was hurting his best friend. He hated that there wasn't really much he could do about it.

He grit his teeth. He could only push forward, and hope this conversation would be over soon. "And I was! At the time."

"What changed?!"

Only everything. "I. There." Prompto huffed, hating everything about himself in that moment. He couldn't even talk! "I realized there's no resolution in my confessing."

"You don't know that!"

"I do! Confessing won't make me get better either way, and it would only make things more awkward between us. So there's no point." Ignis could say he hadn't ruined his holiday all he liked, but the truth was that he'd dragged a guy he's chosen to forget, that he'd barely known a month, to his holiday meal, out of some misplaced sense of loyalty and duty to Noctis. And then he'd gotten drunk, like an idiot, as though Ignis needed more reason to dislike him. "Confessing will only make this worse, so, I'm not confessing."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"There's nothing I can do, Noct." Die. That was the only thing. Die, knowing that in the end it would be better for everyone that way. It really would be too. His parents wouldn't have to worry about maintaining their house in Insomnia, Noctis could graduate high school and move on without feeling any guilt about the friend he'd need to leave behind. Gladio could stop worrying that his prince was running around in dangerous areas, and Ignis...Ignis wouldn't have to look at someone he'd wanted to forget anymore. "There's nothing anyone can do." Nothing he was willing to accept, anyway.

On the other end, Noctis was silent for so long that if it hadn't been for the absence of a dial tone, Prompto would have thought he'd hung up. Finally, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do help? I want to help."

Prompto shook his head, even though Noctis couldn't see. "Nothing. You can't help, Noct. It's my problem. Not yours."

"That's bullshit! You're my friend!" Prompto couldn't think of how he wanted to reply to that, of how he could reply to that, so he said nothing. Eventually, sounding defeated, Noctis asked. "Are you still coming over later?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Okay. I'll see you."

"Yep. See you." Then the dial tone did hit his ear and he shut off his phone again before he went back to bed again, where things were no better in his dreams than they were while he was awake.

The next time he woke up, it was time to get ready to go to Noctis' apartment for games, so he showered, feeling like the ick of his hangover washed away with it. After he was dressed he took some more medicine for his lingering headache, and then went on downstairs. He hadn't eaten all day, and though he didn't really feel hungry he knew he should eat something. He'd practically spent the whole day sleeping, and still he just wanted to pass out. He couldn't be like this at Noctis' place. He'd reached his lifetime quota of how much sadness Noctis was allowed to see from him, and that meant he had to be his normal smiling self when he went. Food would probably help.

When he opened the fridge, the bag of food that Ventus had apparently made for him stared him in the face. He pushed it aside, not ready to deal with it, and instead pulled out the bologna that Ignis had rejected so thoroughly the night before. It had to be eaten after all, and it wasn't bits and pieces of memories that would probably already be painful. Maybe he'd be able to look inside that bag tomorrow. Maybe.

For now, it was hard enough to open Noctis' gift between bites of sandwich. It needed to be done, it was possible, probable even, that Noctis was going to ask about it again that evening. After all, he'd never actually answered as to whether or not he'd liked it. He knew he would, because this was Noctis, and Noctis did good gifts, but actually knowing what it was was kind of important.

He almost cried. Of course. Of course the things inside the professionally wrapped present were things that he knew were expensive, more expensive together than probably everything he'd ever bought Noctis combined. A fancy new lens for his camera, the kind he knew was really high quality and the kind he couldn't buy on his own, and then a chocobo print camera strap that Prompto knew was limited edition, because those sorts of things always were. And he'd probably never even really get to use them. For a second, Prompto considered offering them back, but he knew Noctis would probably smack him into next Tuesday. Maybe he could sell them after he was dead. Hm.

He needed to write out a will, didn't he? Not that it'd be very long. That was for another day though, maybe tomorrow. For now, if he wanted to get even close to Noctis' apartment before dark, he needed to get going.

[Luxury Starshine]

The cold air outside was not good for his lungs, in fact it almost felt like he could feel them freeze and rattle around in his chest. At least, as it made him cough, no one else on the sidewalks questioned it. It was cold and flu season, almost everyone ended up with a cough at some point. Just. Most of them coughed up phlegm instead of flowers.

The sun was already low when he finally made it to the front of Noct's building. He was a little late, but normally he ran here instead of walked. Running was healthier and faster and all that. Still, he'd made it here before dark and that was the important part. He'd just have to remember how much more time it took him next time.

Noctis let him up, and then opened the door for him when he got up there. There was something almost too serious about his face, and Prompto would later kick himself for not picking up on it until he was already taking his shoes off, and Noctis began to talk. "So."

"Yeah?"

"I talked to Doctor Adamas today."

That. That did not sound good. "Who's Doctor Adamas?"

"She's...a hanahaki specialist." Prompto's brain ran quiet long enough for Noctis to also get out, "She's agreed to take on your case. She'll be here in ten days. She'll operate if that's still what needs to be done."

"What?"

"She'll--"

"I heard what you said!" His voice was too loud. He was yelling. He didn't even care. His entire being was a blaze of panic, anger, and hurt. Hadn't he said no? Hadn't he said that there was nothing Noctis could do for him?! And now this?! He pressed his hands against his eyeballs, his bare feet walking into the living room area, wanting to run, wanting to hit something in frustration. "What am I even supposed to do with that?!"

"Uh? Excuse me? Get the surgery?! Since you won't freaking confess?!"

He just. He just totally didn't get it. Of course he didn't. Of course! "I! Can't!"

"Why the ******** not?!"

They were both yelling now, and that was really bad. Inside, Prompto knew that, but outwardly he couldn't care less. Because he had to make Noctis understand. He kept thinking they were the same. They weren't the same. "Because I can't afford that!"

"What?" Noctis was quiet, but Prompto was beyond noticing that. Now the cat was out of the bag. There was no stopping. Not now.

"I can't afford to go to some specialist! I can't afford to have my chest opened up and the hana removed! I can't afford to spend days in a freaking hospital while the costs just keep building up! I can barely afford to get stitches! There we go! I could get the stitches that would go with opening up my chest! I could afford that! But the rest of it! Forget it! My insurance won't cover it! I can't pay for it! It's pointless!"

"That. That's okay."

"How on Eos is that 'okay'?!"

"Because I can pay for it!" Noctis put his hand over his chest in a show of sincerity that only served to make Prompto more upset. "It's okay because I'll cover it for you. You can't afford it?! That's fine! I can!"

Somewhere beyond them the door opened, something in his brain picked that up, but it wasn't important to this, right here, right now. "I'm not taking your money, Noctis! It's not happening!"

"Why not?! It would mean you'd live! Why can't you let me help you?!"

“I could use assistance, if you wouldn’t mind.” Ignis' voice and presence in the room shattered the bubble around them, and so neither of them said anything, but at the same time neither of them made to follow Ignis until he followed his statement up with a name. "Prompto." For a second or two more he stayed there, glaring at Noctis, feeling hurt and angry, and feeling like this was it, he'd never feel anything other than those things again, before he followed off after Ignis into the kitchen.

He helped Ignis to put away the spare groceries, and really all that did for him was lower his heart rate. Still, the words he spoke next came out a little more calmly, "Look, Ignis, I know what you're--"

Ignis cut him off. "Could you please wash and cut these?" Peppers were placed before him, and he couldn't help but stare agape even as Ignis gave him further instructions. “Finely diced, please. We wouldn’t want his highness picking them all out.”

"S-Sure!" He was pretty sure his voice came out as a squeak, but, he hurried to get to work.

[Luxury Starshine]

"Noctis," Ignis began the dreaded conversation about why they shouldn't be fighting over this and why he should just shut up and take the money, "has never been especially skilled at connecting with people. Understand that you are the first real friend he’s made."

"That's not true!" How could he even say that?! He chopped with a fervor that matched his feelings. "You and Gladio--"

He was cut off again. Which was really, really, not helping him feel better or heard. "--Were chosen for him." He was handed another bag. It looked like it had onions in it. "I was six when I was sworn as his retainer."

"Dude." That was just so ******** up. So really ******** up. He'd been a literal child. What was he supposed to think about that? It was just so...so! And yeah, he knew the Amicitias were practically bred to be protectors for the crown, but still!

"While we are all quite fond of each other, our friendship has and always will be intertwined with duty." The way he said that though, it made it sound so terrible, like yeah, it was...something else to be sworn in at the age of six, but that didn't change the fact that he had a purpose in life, that he'd always have a purpose in life. That was the sort of thing that most people only dreamed about, and in the end they only got weak, generic answers like mother or father. Not that those things weren't good or important, but they weren't always the answer someone was looking for, or even the kind of answer that truly cemented someone in life. Ignis would always know that he was Noctis' advisor and friend. Glado his shield and friend. They were bonds that couldn't break. Not like theirs.

"To you he is Noctis first, and the prince after, is that not right?" He made it sound like such a good thing, and, yeah, Prompto knew there had been others before him, who had used Noctis for money or power. Wasn't that exactly the point? He wasn't here for that. He couldn't be here for that. They were friends and they couldn't be anything more. He would always just be the pleb. The guy who walked a really thin ******** line between being a friend and being a leech.

"Well. . .yeah, but." He ended up pausing, knowing the words in his head, but articulating was just so much harder. Not that. It seemed anyone was listening. Of course. Ignis wasn't talking to him for him, he was talking to him for Noctis. How he felt probably didn't matter to Ignis at all. Why should it? "If I just let him throw money at my problems, isn’t that the same thing? Then I’m just taking advantage of him, too."

"But you’d be alive. Understand, more than anything, that’s what Noctis wants. Even if it costs him your friendship, I believe so long as you were alive, he’d consider it worth it. He will not back down on this." And there it was. There was the "Shut up and take it." Noctis was going to get what he wanted, so his position in it didn't really matter. Of course not.

"If you cannot let him help you for its own sake, I suggest you find a way to compromise. Consider it, at least." As though Ignis had any right to say any of that. As though Noctis didn't feel the exact same way about Ignis, and as though Ignis didn't push him away at every turn. He stared for a moment, trying to convey that through a look, and almost through words, but no. What was the point.

"I can try to do that." It was the expected answer, the only acceptable answer. What was there to try? To compromise? This was a do or do not type of thing. There was no compromise, no paying fifty-fifty. He knew that if he accepted this, it would come back to hurt him, brand him, bite him when things went sour. They would sour. His whole life had soured, his friendship with Noct would obviously be the last thing.

"Go on then. You know His Highness is in full pout mode by now. Perhaps you can speak like rational beings now that you’ve both cooled off a little?"

Right. Because this was cooled off. All this had done was make him want to open the window and jump out. It was high enough to kill him, right? He didn't say that. He could even say anything to Ignis at all. He couldn't tell him that Noctis cared about him too, that he would have done the same for him. He couldn't say that he knew Ignis didn't remember him. He couldn't say that his hanahaki was for Ignis. He couldn't say anything except "Thanks, Iggy," before he fled, and how pathetic was that? No. Perhaps Ignis had meant well, but he didn't feel any better. He felt worse. The only difference was that Ignis had taken the fire out of him, and now he felt like a deflated balloon. Empty, sad, and useless.

He found Noctis still with his fire in his chest, lips turned down into that famous pout Ignis had been talking about. He was literally sitting on his couch, arms crossed, staring at the blank screen. "I'll drag you there if I have to," Noctis told him as Prompto sat down on the couch, not too close, but not too far away.

"What?"

"I will go to your house, abduct you, and literally drag you to the operating room kicking and screaming, if that's what it takes. Or. Let's be real, I'd have someone drug you first. No kicking and screaming."

"Dude, that's kidnapping."

"I know that."

"I'm pretty sure princes aren't supposed to kidnap people, Noct." Not. That. Anyone was supposed to kidnap anyone, but, on the scale of Mr. McMurder over there and the Crown Prince of Lucis...Crown Prince of Lucis was really not supposed to kidnap people.

"I'm not doing this as a prince. I'm doing this as your friend. Your friend who's..." Noctis took in a breath, a shaking breath that made Prompto look up. Was. Was he crying? "I'm really scared of the idea that you might really die." The words were barely more than a crackled whisper, and confirmed to Prompto that while he might not be seeing tears, Noctis was crying inside. Crying. Over him. He wasn't worth it, yet here they were. The Crown Prince of Lucis was crying over him, an adopted, not Insomnian native, pleb, who, until that very moment had really been thinking that was death was better.

Prompto scooted a little closer. "I know," Noctis said, his voice raw, "I know you don't want to take anything from me. I get it. I've had the friends who wanted stuff. I know you're not like that. I know. This isn't using me. This is me offering help when you really need it. I want to help." He heard Noctis take in a deep shuddering breath before. "Please take it."

Wasn't the ache in his chest supposed to be for Ignis? Right now it wasn't, even with the scent of delicious food wafting out toward them, it wasn't Ignis. He knew how Ignis felt, but for the first time, he felt like he was really seeing how Noctis actually felt about his friends. Had Noctis been like this for Ignis too? No. Prompto remembered that day that now felt like a lifetime ago. He'd been sulking and irritable. Probably because Ignis hadn't even let Noctis know. That's why he'd been bitter. Ignis had, of course, kept it to himself, and denied Noctis the opportunity to care for his friends. Like he was trying to.

Prompto sighed, and scooted even closer to Noctis' side. Apparently, now that he was within range, Noctis became a boneless being and fell into his side. It felt awkward, but this whole damn day, whole damn situation was awkward. He put his arm around Noctis' shoulder, and it was a relief when he didn't shrug it away. "I'm gonna pay you back."

"No! You don't--"

"That's it. That's the deal. You pay for this now, I'll pay you back. Take it or leave it."

Noctis heaved a sigh into his shoulder. "Fine. But I'm never gonna hold you to it."

"That's okay. I'll hold me to it."

[Luxury Starshine]

He didn't see any of them again before the end of break after that. It was probably a good thing, the hacking up of flowers was bad enough as it was, not thinking about Ignis was easier when he was at home trying to complete his homework assignments and slowly but surely giving himself a heart attack over what exam results would be.

The morning they finally actually had to go back to school Prompto counted it as a victory that the flowers hadn't actually made him pass out yet. That was apparently a common thing with hanahaki. You passed out because you couldn't breathe and you ended up in the hospital, fairly early on, oftentimes. He couldn't run anymore, but at least he could say he hadn't been in an ambulance. Ambulance rides were the worst, both anxiety and money wise.

"Hey," Noctis greeted him by the gate. It was a surprise to find that Noctis had arrived first. It was normally the other way around. Quickly, Prompto checked his phone, was he late? No. This was about his normal time. Noctis was early. "How are you feeling?"

Was he worried? "Fine," Prompto said with a little bit of a shrug. "Nervous."

"Already?"

What did he mean already--? Oh! "Not about that!" Though he was. Nervous. About that. He'd never actually had real invasive, under anesthetic surgery before. He as definitely trying not to think too much about that. "About the exam results."

"Oh." Noctis blinked at him. "You did fine?"

Prompto snorted at him in return. It jostled the hana in his chest, and he coughed a little. No, really, it was just a little. "Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because it really wasn't there, buddy."

"No! Really. I...already saw."

"Traitor!" Prompto gasped dramatically, pointing at his friend with an accusing finger. What he got in return was Noctis laughing sheepishly, hand running up through his hair.

"Specs wanted to know my score. So when I went in there I just...looked for yours too. You did fine."

"So that's why you're early."

Noctis puffed out a single ha. "Yeah, made Specs work for it though."

"You always make Iggy work for it."

They went inside to look at the scoreboard. It was naturally surrounded by people, but once they got close enough to get a good look Prompto could see that Noctis was up near the top, though not the actual top of the class. It was a score Ignis had probably been satisfied by. After all, Noctis was actually really smart, when he put his head down and did the work. Prompto's score...well, fine was relative. He was definitely in the lower half of the class, but it also didn't look like he's actually quite failed anything. That meant he'd done better than he'd thought he had, but Prompto hoped Noctis hadn't told Ignis how he'd done. Ignis might have him executed on the spot. Prompto just. Wasn't smart. It was fact, and with his hanahaki on top of it, he was just going to have to get over it and move on.

Class itself was painfully slow. He kept getting looks for his coughing fits, and handing in his homework was a pain too. The only good that came of it was from their homeroom teacher. "Don't forget about your senior projects. I know April seems far away now, but it'll be here before you know it." For not being very smart, Prompto was really almost done with his school project. He just had to assemble it. He didn't want to do that until late March, because the glue might come loose, and he'd rather just do it once. There was...something else he could do with that idea though. Something that would both make him feel better about the surgery, and was probably really ******** dangerous. He was going to do it anyway.

"Hey, you attached the strap!"

"Duh, you gave it to me. Of course I did."

"It looks good." Noctis said with a smile. It almost looked like he wanted to run his fingers long the fabric of the camera strap, but Noctis had learned long ago not to touch Prompto's prized possession. How many whole paychecks and old birthday money had gone into this thing? Too much, probably, but it was, for someone of his status, a nice camera, practically his baby. He wasn't letting anything happen to it. "So you're taking pics today?"

"Yep!" As though to prove his point, he raised the camera and took a picture of Noctis. When he checked it, it was nice, but then, all three of his friends were unfairly photogenic. Just another way he didn't measure up. "I think I need a few more for my project."

"Oh. Do you need to go up the Citadel? We can do that before heading to my place."

"Nah, I just. I want a few more pics of your 'people.'"

Though he snorted in laughter, Noctis already had his phone out. "So I should get Gladio to come over?"

"Yeah. That'd be good."

The pictures he took had nothing to do with the school project, like Noctis assumed, and he had no need for pictures of Gladio or Noctis, it was a good excuse to get a few more shots of Ignis without Ignis getting suspicious.

Once both Gladio and Ignis were gone for the evening, Prompto got jittery, to the point where he excused himself from game night earlier than he normally would. Noctis didn't stop him, though he did ask, "Do you want to get Specs to give you a ride home?" That was a double shot, Prompto thought, both to keep him from exhausting himself, and also alone time with Ignis, you know, in case he decided to confess instead. He wasn't going to fall for it.

"It's okay, it's early still."

"You sure?"

"Yep. I got this."

Walking sure took longer, but what took longer still was going through every single one of his pictures and picking out all the ones he wanted to use. It was already in the a.m. when he'd finally pegged them all off and bothered to turn off his light.

The next day was even busier, not because of his homework, but because he spent a good portion of the day down at the mall. First, he'd had to get his chosen pictures printed, and while he was waiting for that he ran (well, not ran, running was definitely beyond him at this point) around to three other stores buying a scrapbook, stickers, a really nice green pen, glue, and other little accent-y type things he might need. Truth be told he'd done this months ago too, for his actual school project. It was very deja vu, a lot of the clerks behind counters were even the same people, not that they recognized him.

Finally, once his pictures were ready, he went home, having spent half his last paycheck, and mentally resolving that the rest of it would have to go into Noct's hands from here on out.

For all his resolve before, once he was home with everything he needed, he procrastinated a little. He ate, he watched television, he even did some homework, but by the time the sun had begun to set he knew he had to get to work. He only had a few days left until his surgery, and after would be too late.

Prompto settled down at the table with all his purchases, and first thing's first, he sorted through the pictures, before he decided on the first few he wanted to use. Then he picked up his new green pen and wrote on the front of the book. "Read Me" he wrote. "I Contain Memories."

On the first page he placed a very flattering (in his opinion anyway) picture of Ignis from the front. Once he was sure that it was stuck and wouldn't move he picked up the pen again. "As you've probably noticed, you're missing someone. This is him. His name is Ignis Scientia." It was hard to write legibly, and his eyes were watering even to think the words he wanted to write, the things that in a few days he wouldn't remember.

He thumbed through the book. He had a lot of pages. He had a lot of pictures. He had a lot of memories to write down. He didn't have a lot of time to do it.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

Luxury Starshine

When Gladio found out Ignis had contracted the hana, he couldn’t say he was even remotely surprised. Not because there was believed to be a genetic factor, a tendency toward its development running through bloodlines. It had been the uncle he wasn’t actually related to, after all, who’d had it decades prior. It was because Iggy was Iggy, and for years he’d watched his six-damned idiot of a friend get far too attached to men who were unworthy of even his shallowest affections. When he’d found Ignis coughing up flower petals in his brattiness’ kitchen, he’d assumed this was an extension of that. Realistically, he’d always thought the situation had been a possibility, and he’d assumed that Ignis, being his dumbass self, had fallen for some piece of s**t and chosen forgetting in lieu of past experiences. In retrospect, it seemed inevitable that the man would fall for some a*****e that couldn’t give him what he’d needed and. It would just. Go too far. He regretted that now.

If he’d known it had been one Prompto Argentum Ignis had been pining for, well. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would have done, but he sure as hell wouldn’t have accepted his friend’s refusal to talk about it at face value. For ******** sake. This was Prompto! Prompto, who leaned into every minute touch, who looked at anyone remotely friendly with stars in his eyes and picked up stray animals because it was just so sad, they were alone, and you couldn’t just expect him to leave them there, right, big guy? This was Prompto, who after two years Gladio still caught looking at them sometimes like he didn’t quite know how he’d gotten so lucky. And Gladio didn’t even have to think very hard or long to realize the two probably would have been good for each other. It was ******** stupid that they weren’t together. ******** stupid that he hadn’t pushed a little harder, hadn’t seriously insisted on the possibility that there might be something to be done.

No, he’d just been the a*****e who held one of his oldest friends in his arms and, with scarcely any resistance, accepted that in a handful of days said friend was going to lose a piece of himself forever, just to live. Oh, sure, he’d asked Ignis who it was, had reminded him more than once that, no really, surgery should have been the last resort. But had he done enough? Had he really?

He wasn’t so sure. And when he found out who the subject of the brunet’s hanahaki was, he thought maybe never would be. Surely. There was something more he could have done.

The day following the surgery saw Gladio visiting Ignis at his uncles’ apartment, Noct and Prompto in tow. Ignis was staying with his uncles, of course, rather than staying in his own apartment all alone. Or gods forbid, at the hospital a moment longer than he absolutely had to. It was Ventus who answered the door, and Ventus who shooed them inside, all smiles and good cheer. Everything proceeded as expected, right up to the moment they actually went into Ignis’s childhood bedroom and the advisor deadass acted like he’d never even met one of them before. Though as far as Iggy was concerned, he hadn’t met him before, of course. It was immediately obvious, and Gladio was pissed. He barely held it in long enough for the blond to duck from the room, for the prince to snap at the ailing man in his own frustration, clearly about as happy with the situation as he was.

“You coward!” He kept his voice low, hyper-aware of the blond elsewhere in the apartment, only a door between them. “I can’t ******** believe you right now.”

“I beg your pardon - !” His voice was thin and raspy as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, his skin paling sheet white as his struggled for a deep breath.

“Gladio!” Noctis hissed, immediately moving forward to press a hand against Ignis’s shoulder, pushing him back against the bed. Gladio’s anger was instantly cut with panic. Of course, Ignis wouldn’t even understand why he was angry. Ignis had no ******** idea. He was 100 percent justified, but for ******** sake. . .

“s**t.” This was awful. Gods, his stomach hurt. “I’m sorry. Just.” He pressed his hand over the prince’s, not quite successfully ignoring the blue-eyed glare fixed on him. “Forget I said anything, okay? It’s nothing.” It so was not nothing, but. It could wait. It would have to. He was making everything worse.

Hazel eyes narrowed, promising this wouldn’t be the last he heard of this, but when they pulled their hands away, the brunet lulled slightly to the side, limp and wheezing softly. A few moments more, and his eyes had slipped closed, his lose grasp on the covers letting them know that this time, he’d most likely slipped off into sleep. Gently, Gladio pulled the covers up, sighing softly as he turned to face the prince’s fury.

“What the ********, Gladio?” If it weren’t for Ignis laying nearby, he had no doubt Noctis would have been yelling. Their prince had never been great when it came to controlling his emotions. He basically had two modes: holding it in in complete emotional constipation and exploding. Gladio knew he was already past his breaking point.

“I know, okay?” He stepped back toward the bedroom door, trusting the prince to follow. He did know. And he didn’t want to talk about this. This whole situation was some goddamn bullshit.

But then Prompto was out there talking to Ventus, oblivious, and breaking the heavy mood that way he always seemed to. Before they knew it, they were back on their way, goody bags in hand. If nothing else good came out of this, at least there was Ventus’s muffins. Those muffins were a sixdamn lifesaver.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

Luxury Starshine

He thought things couldn’t get any worse, to be honest, but then Noctis started sending him texts – the kind that had images and implied all kinds of things, and worse, asked horrible questions he didn’t want to think about, like whether or not you can get hanahaki more than once for the same person. Gladio was pretty sure could, at the very least, relapse, now that he thought about it. That was a thing, right? ******** if that was a possibility he really wanted to think consider. Hey, maybe this time at least he could make the sixdamned idiot actually face his feelings instead of just refusing to tell everyone what was going on.

Six. He didn’t want to deal with that. He didn’t even want to deal with this. This was clearly not the good timeline.

Then Friday rolled around and Gladio was getting texts in the middle of afternoon drills about Noctis not being at school. Ignis assured him it was deliberate shirking, but the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t calm until he knew for sure. He grabbed a quick shower, leaving the trainees in Cor’s very capable hands before heading to the prince’s apartment, phone close at hand in case the tide should turn.

But shortly after, the prince and his friend arrived safely, curiously without Ignis in tow. A point to be followed up on once he was finished telling these two chuckleheads what idiots they were being. Except then Prompto dropped another bomb and it all seemed a perfectly justified reaction, despite being totally unacceptable.

“Well, s**t.” Sixdamnit, why. The ******** was he supposed to do with that? “. . . where’s Iggy?”

Apparently changing his shirt, because he got blood on it. ******** s**t. Hearing the full story didn’t exactly make him feel better about it, either. Titan’s rock hard nipples, the last thing Ignis needed to be doing was getting into fights, even if he well on his way to recovery. Still, it was kinda funny how the boys were reacting to seeing Ignis go feral for the first time, not that he got to enjoy it more than a moment or two.

Gladio let himself into Ignis’s apartment, settling in to wait when he heard the shower running. He supposed if he’d been the one who’d gotten blood on his shirt, he’d want a quick wash up, and Ignis Scientia was a far more fastidious man than himself. He let his mind blank out as he waited, lips quirking up in a small smile once the shower had stopped and the man himself finally emerged. He was. . . pretty cute, to be honest, with his hair still damp. Those glasses reminded him of when they were younger, and Ignis was spotty and far too serious for his own good. Well. He was still too serious for his own good, but he’d grown into it, at least. His eyes were a little red around the rims, meaning he’d likely either cried or thrown up – Gladio was betting on the latter – and he knew that was one of his friend’s comfort shirts. He’d commented once that he liked how soft it was, off hand, like Gladio wouldn’t recognize and remember the importance of it.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

“Hey, Iggy.” The man wasn’t in the best of moods, which was fair, considering. He shrugged off his concern, criticized him for leaving the younger boys alone. . . in other words, yeah, typical overstressed Iggy. The least he could do was stick around and share the load, particularly given recent revelations. Did Ignis know yet? This was going to ******** suck.

Back down in the prince’s apartment, Ignis set to making dinner and Gladio settled in near the younger boys. If Ignis thought he was watching them closely, he focus on the task at hand – though truth be told, he watched Ignis through the doorway to the kitchen more than anything. The buy had to be worn the hell out by now, but he moved with his usual, brisk efficiency. Nothing like that time he’d almost passed out in the training rooms only weeks after he’d first picked up crownsguard training. He was stressed and strained, to be sure, but it seemed he still remembered to pace himself. Either that, or he’d just gotten better at hiding it.

Sooner than expected, preparations were finished and the bespeckled man brought plates in to the younger boys. If Gladio hadn’t already watched him be like this for years, he’d be shocked by how soft the other teen was on them, despite the day’s events. At this point, though, he was basically resigned to it. Frustrated and a little disgusted, but resigned. And he really wasn’t up for the fight commenting on it would bring.

Ignis made the offer of tea to the blond who, yep, they’d all noticed coughing this entire time, no doubt, and it was immediately clear the bespeckled man wasn’t aware of the cough’s source at the question itself. Just as he’d feared. And dreaded.

Gladio was close enough to see the way Ignis’s eyes dulled at the confession, in the moment he realized that Prompto had the hana. He didn’t know what was going on in that big brain of his, but Gladio was pretty sure it wasn’t based on the same reality he lived in. For a guy with three degrees already at 19, he could be a real ******** idiot.

Shortly after, Ignis made his excuses and left, the blond eventually following after. Having extracted a promise from the prince to stay home and be a good for at least the night, Gladio, too, was on his way.

Over the following weeks, Gladio watched as Ignis retreated back into himself, polite and reserved, business as normal, and the blond deteriorated. For some reason, though Prompto had apparently agreed to have the surgery for his hana, he had also decided to wait as long as possible before doing so, despite having doubled down on not confessing to the subject of his pining. Gladio had his suspicions about who that person was. The timing couldn’t be coincidence and, well, it was like it was a particularly difficult guess. Gladio really couldn’t blame him, to be honest. He must have figured out about Ignis’s hana by now, after all. But still. Still . . .

He wished he could knock those two idiots’ heads together and they’d just kiss already. Preferably both, though he’d take the latter, if he really had to choose. And he was pretty sure Princess was right here with him on this one, judging by the frustration and agitation that had been radiating off of him for weeks now.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

itty bitty teeny weeny miniscle chonk

And watching Ignis and Prompto interact was. . . painful. Ignis was polite and helpful and in every action the perfect retainer. Prompto tried to pretend all was well, but most of his jokes fell flat, and as his health worsened, the atmosphere became more and more tense. The two younger boys had at least come to some kind of agreement on the blond accepting help, but every few days one or the other would make an offhand comment and they’d almost fight – Noct clearly of the opinion that the blond should confess, and Prompto apparently ready to just die already. Which was absolutely heartbreaking in itself. Ignis had even gotten involved in one such argument, somehow simultaneously telling the prince to back off while reassuring the blond that, quote, “anyone would be lucky to have him.” There had been other compliments in there as well, but Gladio had scarcely heard them over the sound of him losing his own sixdamn mind.

There had been a long silence between the blond had responded, his voice subdued when he informed the bespeckled man that he would not be saying that if he knew who it was. Gladio felt like screaming. Noctis did, too, if his expression as anything to go by. Or punching something, maybe.

[CLOMP-a-saurus]

I didn't bother to add the italics in but.
It's just the article titles.
And Gladio's words so you knwo where that is.
o u o

Ignis was deeply, acutely uncomfortable. Aside from his own unease on the matter of doctor’s offices and all that took place within, it was distinctly unnerving to be accompanying Prompto to his last doctor’s visit before he was admitted. His Highness had asked him specifically. Of course he would do it. But.

Sitting in the waiting room, carefully perched on the cheap vinyl chairs, a bulb in the overhead fluorescents flickering at seemingly random intervals. . . he couldn’t possibly feel more out of place. Why was is it, exactly, that he was driving the blond to this appointment, and now his family perhaps? His parents?

Who was he kidding? He knew why. They all knew why. And that just made it worse. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly care so little about the blond, if they truly knew him. . . but apparently there were at least three people on Eos who felt that way. Sixdamnit. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind his eyes. Thinking about the whys only stressed him out. Better to focus on what was in front of him, perhaps.

He had picked up a magazine after the blond had gone in, just for a distraction, but it was difficult to be too terribly engrossed in a months old issue of Good Houskeeping, of all things.

20 Sunroom Decorating ideas That’ll Brighten Your Space? Honestly, it’s a sun room. They’re bright by design. But hmmm. 25 Healthy Smoothie Recipes to Brighten Up Your Mornings? There may be something there. . .

Oh, for goodness sake. If it had chocolate in it, it was a shake. Smoothies had fruit. And yet. There were a few good ideas, here. His Highness would likely enjoy a few of these. And it was certainly so that citrus was quite helpful in masking the young man’s most hated food group. It would also have to be a matter of presentation. He must appear to be failing to trick him into eating his vegetables in order to actually succeed. After all, if Noctis was busy picking carrots out of his garlic parmaesan scalloped potatoes, it would be longer before he thought to question whether his advisor was smuggling greens into his shakes.

After a moment, he sighed and pulled out the pocket notebook he kept in his pocket, taking a few moments to jot down some notes. This wasn’t what he was here for, certainly, but it surely wouldn’t hurt. One found inspiration in unexpected places; that was the entire point on having something on hand to make note of them, after all.

And yet, as he tucked the notebook back into his vest pocket and set the magazine aside, he was hit with sudden regret as an older lady waiting nearby glanced in his direction, then nearly did a double take. Her expression brightened from polite boredom to absolute cheer, and he could see by the way that she prepare to heave herself to her feet. . . Yes, she was coming over to talk to him, wasn’t she? Please don’t let it be about sunrooms. Gods, please don’t ask him about the 32 Thoughtful Gifts for the Hostess with the Mostest. They were all hideous beyond belief.

The door that led back to the examination room opened, a too-cheerful nurse reminding the blond as he stepped through that he was to have “absolutely no food after midnight” and that they’d see him “bright and early, first thing tomorrow!” Ignis’s attention jerked to Prompto as he stepped into the waiting room, unwanted conversation all but forgotten.

Well, perhaps not quite. He may or may not have spared a moment to thank all six of the gods for the timing, but it would be inappropriate to show any kind of relief, given the circumstances. He rose to his feet, hovering as Prompto confirmed his arrangements at the front desk. In silence, they returned to his car – and in silence he drove back to the prince’s apartment, with not even the radio to break the tense atmosphere. It was. . . difficult, with the blond’s surgery finally at hand. It was difficult to accept that he was really going through with it. Surely, whatever the result, confessing would be better?

But then, Ignis knew he had no leg to stand on, on that point. He’d chosen surgery as well. Perhaps it really was for the best. And yet.

Ignis lead the way up to the apartment, pretending not to notice the way the blond had awkwardly hung back after stepping from the car, had hesitated before following him into the building. He was clearly uncomfortable. Clearly still ill at ease from his appointment, and likely thinking of what was to come. If he needed time to ruminate, it was perfectly understandable. Though it was true that time was now running short.

Once they’d stepped within the apartment, Ignis started for the kitchen, then hesitated. He’d wished to leave the blond to his own devices, allow him some much needed quiet time, perhaps, before the prince returned, but. He couldn’t quite let it go. He couldn’t quite say nothing, knowing it was likely to be the last opportunity.

“Prompto.” He cleared his throat, swallowed, then tried again. “A moment of your time, if it’s no bother?”

After a moment, the blond nodded – still agreeable, despite everything – and followed him into the kitchen. Ignis busied himself with preparing tea, putting off the moment he actually had to speak. Foolish. And in short time, he had two mugs of tea gently set down on the counter between then, regardless. He cleared his throat. “Prompto.” Hesitated. Was he really the right person to say this, considering? Did the blond know? He must, at this point. He was in a unique position to understand. And that was why Ignis had to speak up, had to give turning the blond from his course one last try. Or at the very least, ascertain that he was really sure there was no other way.

Prompto took a careful sip from his tea, his expression momentarily started when, Ignis presumed, it tasted better than he’d been expecting. The blond looked. . . tired. Resigned. Too pale and too thin. It was difficult to stomach the minute tremble in his hands as he settled the mug back on the counter, the way his brow drew together in a near permanent frown.

“Ignis?” Blue eyes were fixed upon the counter, the mug in front of him, anything but the other person at hand. “Whatever it is, could you just. . . “

“Get on with it?” His hands wrapped around his own mug, the warmth against his fingers some small comfort. “Certainly.” There was nothing for it but to just say it, then. “I apologize for the timing, but I only wondered if you were absolutely certain regarding this course of action. Forgetting and entire person is. . .” Difficult? Confusing? Frustrating? “. . .devastating.” His thumbnail scratched against ceramic mug as he gave a soft sigh. So there it was. The truth of the matter. He trusted in his decision, but maybe he regretted it, too. After all, he’d been completely in the dark. And when he’d realized what he was missing, it had only made it harder.

“Devastating,” the blond repeated, his disbelieving tone punctuated with a small laugh that turned into a soft cough.

Ignis winced. Yes, there was no question. He definitely knew. It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion. After all, it had taken Ignis all of. . . what, two days? To figure it out himself. “Yes,” he confirmed softly, his voice not quite even to his own ears. He risked a look up, but the blond’s gaze was diverted as he shifted the mug restlessly.

“It’s not like I want to forget.” Ignis kept his attention on the blond, on the way his fingers shifted the coffee cup, left, right, in clear unease. But for that small movement, he was so carefully still. “I was gonna confess, I really was. I’ve been rejected before. I could handle it.” He paused, taking another drink as he gathered his words – or perhaps gathered the courage for what he would say next. “And then I realized I couldn’t handle it for, you know, reasons, and not being rejected was never gonna happen and . . . well, anyway, I got a book and, well, you know I take photos, so I made like, I D K, a scrapbook, and put all the memories I can in it for. You know. After. Because I don’t want it to be like this.”

And the blond rambled, he became more animated, more emotional. Angry, even. Ignis didn’t attempt to interrupt. Perhaps it would be cathartic to let it all out. Perhaps it would be for the best to make things clear before it was too late. At least someone, then, would be able to tell Prompto why he’d done it afterwards. No one had known, after all, when it came to Ignis. That had been clear enough.

“You say it’s devastating, but you chose it like that! I don’t get to choose!” The blond was almost yelling now. “But I’m still not gonna throw my memories of you away like you threw me away!” He finally paused, took a deep breath, seemed to gather himself. “Anyway, I – “

“Memories of me?” It took a stunned moment for the words to sink in, but then the words were blurted out before the blond could even finish. They threw everything he had assumed since he’d woken up in the hospital on its head.

The blond paled, his chin jerking up, wide eyes meeting the advisor’s gaze only momentarily before flicking away. “What? No.” The denial was far from believable, given the panic that accompanied it. “s**t! That’s not what I meant to say, I – “

“Prompto.” Ignis reached across the counter to touch the blond’s hand. Prompto flinched at the touch, then froze, staring at him like the proverbial spiracorn in headlights. But Ignis wasn’t going to wait even a single moment, if the blond had meant what he said. He had trusted his reasons, but he was a sixdamned fool. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “May I kiss you?”

“I. Uh.” He swallowed, the sound amplified in the charged air. “Yes?”

Ignis pulled his hand away, moving swiftly around the counter, then slowly lifting a hand to press his fingertips against freckled skin and leaning closer. The blond surged forward, meeting him halfway, and a simple press of lips quickly deepened, the blond’s groan as mouths parted sending heat flushing through his body. Finally, he had to pull away just to catch his breath, and panting softly, he stared into vivid blue-violent eyes, pupils brown, thumb stroking a softly flushed cheek and the freckles highlighted charmingly against them. It was too good to be true. It was. . .

“Oh, thank ********.”

Ignis stiffed, at first with surprise and alarm, first with surprise and then followed by, faintly, embarrassment. The voice was one he recognized, of course, but that he hadn’t even heard him arrive was more than a little alarming, though he had been rather distracted, clearly. But before he could pull the tattered remnants of his composure together, Gladio was looping an arm around their shell-shocked prince and hightailing it out of there. Yes. Certainly it was appreciated, he supposed. Clearly he and Prompto need to talk, but. He’d have felt a lot better about it if they hadn’t walked in on the two of them practically gyrating against the kitchen counter.

But they were gone. Embarrassing as it had been to be walked in on, best focus on the task at hand. On Prompto. On. . . what this meant.

“I. . . “ Momentarily flustered, he tried to forget the other two had even been here. Or at least to push the awareness aside, just for now. He had to say something now. Right now. It didn’t have to be eloquent. It just had to be true. “I wish I knew why I didn’t do that months ago.” Gods, what he would have given for a little context. Anything to offer beyond. . . that he didn’t know why he’d done it. That all he understood was how he felt now. Slowly, carefully, he reached for the blond’s hand. “Do you think you could ever forgive me?” Could he? Did it matter that they were both, clearly, interested? Or had the damage already been done. He didn’t know. He was honestly terrified by the idea that they may have finally come to the same page, and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t work. And he’d never understand why.

[Luxury Starshine]

"We'll be going together next week, won't we?"

The question held a note of uncertainty that wasn't typical for Ignis. It was enough to make Prompto to look away from the sink of dishes before him and glance back at the table Ignis had been banished to because, obviously, people weren't allowed to do things like wash dishes and cook on their birthday. Dinner had already been eaten and the cake still sat in a box until the dishes were done. They'd only allowed Ignis to make coffee, if only because he would have complained about anyone else's. Until a few moments ago, Gladio and Noctis had been in here with him, with Noctis rinsing dishes and Noctis drying. They'd both disappeared now, probably so that they could have this moment alone between dinner and cake. Prompto didn't mind.

From the table, Ignis stared at him seriously, his coffee mug sitting beautifully in his elegant hands. It would have been the perfect picture, if Prompto's camera hadn't been off in the other room.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Iggy." With that, Prompto turned his head away and looked back at the not-nearly-as-beautiful sink of dishes.

It couldn't have been more than a second before he heard Ignis scoff. Which was an appropriate reaction, considering how ridiculous they both knew he was being. He wanted to hear Ignis say it though. They were words he'd never heard before, not like this.

"You don't know what's going on next week?"

"Nope. You're gonna have to tell me about it."

A small, exasperated huff reached his ears, followed the small clack of his mug hitting the table. "Well. In a couple of days, they'll shut off many streets throughout the city."

"Will they?"

"Yes, and then the booths will start to move in. Where vendors who will be selling food, trinkets, games, and other merchandise will set up."

"Sounds exciting."

"It is. The night before, it seems like half the city swoops in and decorates everything in pinks, reds, and hearts."

"Ooh, festive." Prompto heard the chair scoot back, and he smiled to himself. He was in trouble now.

"And the day of, almost everything is closed, including the schools, so I know you know precisely what I'm talking about, Prompto Argentum." Arms wrapped around his waist as fast as snakes. Prompto squealed with laughter as he was pulled back against Ignis' chest.

"So, just to be clear, we're talking about Sweetheart's Festival and not some dinner at the Citadel or something."

"Well," Ignis said, his breath tickling the very tip top of Prompto's head. "If you would rather do that--"

"Nope! No. Definitely not. I just wanna make sure."

Ignis' long and strong arms tightened their grip around his waist just a little bit more. It was just enough to make Prompto feel like he was trapped in their grasp. Unlike an elevator, a closet, or a cave, Prompto found that he didn't mind feeling trapped in his boyfriend's grasp. His boyfriend. That still felt like a dream. "I am most certainly referring to the Sweetheart's Festival, Darling."

For a moment, Prompto was tempted to tease Ignis even further by saying that he might already have plans, because he and Noctis kind of had a thing going where they stayed in and watched movies that night. They'd done it the last two years, because they were both single and being out in the festivities had felt really weird. Gladio always had a date of course, because he was Gladio, but the year before Ignis had actually joined them. He almost teased, but Ignis didn't remember that. Or if he did, he'd just remember it being with Noctis. That was the sad note to their relationship. There were so many things that Prompto remembered that Ignis didn't, and never would. They were trying to turn it into a positive thing. There were so many stories Prompto could tell him now, and Ignis was happy to listen to them, but Prompto didn't think now was a good time for that particular story.

"I am so down to go to Sweetheart's Festival with you."

Those arms tightened even more, and all the more pleasantly, around his waist. "Splendid. Shall we make a whole day of it? I can pick you up around nine in the morning? That way we can go to all the festivities."

"Sounds great." It really did. It would be the first year that he'd spend Sweetheart's Festival with an actual significant other. It would be cold out, of course it would, but they'd stick close to each other, and the general idea of spending the whole day with Ignis, even if he did have to stop and answer work texts and calls, was very appealing. They could check out all the booths, maybe holding hands, which was something they hadn't really gotten to do in public yet. If they stayed close enough, perhaps the cold wouldn't even bother them. Perhaps--

And that was when the coughing took over. It racked his entire body, and he all but went limp in Ignis' arms as he hacked into his hands. Dully, he felt one of Ignis' arms move up to secure him from the chest, and the other found his hair, carding through it gently. It helped. It helped him as he coughed both feeling like each one was the last, yet also that it would never end.

Finally, a small bud popped up in his mouth and the coughing stopped as quickly as it had started. He wheezed more than he breathed really as he plucked it from his tongue. Just one. Just one little tiny bit of goldenrod, and yet it still made him cough like he was dying.

"Still?" Ignis asked. It hurt Prompto's heart to hear how sad he sounded over it.

"It's getting better!" The way his voice cracked at the back of his throat probably didn't help convince him, but it was true! It was nothing like before. Before, at its worst, he could actually feel the flowers rattling around in his lungs, filling them to what felt like almost bursting. Before, he couldn't take a deep breath or feel like he wasn't struggling for air. Heck, by the end he'd barely been able to walk without feeling light headed. Now he was almost normal. Almost. "I can actually run again, without feeling like I'm gonna die."

"You had better not be running," Ignis scolded him softly. "Not when I can still feel your ribs through your shirt."

If Prompto had his way, Ignis would never not be able to feel those ribs, but he knew better than to say that. "I gotta start building my muscle mass back up," he whined instead. "I'm gonna be so out of shape."

"Did you used to run normally?"

"Every morning."

"Even on school days?"

"You bet."

Ignis made a sound that Prompto couldn't tell whether it was positive or negative. Before he could ask, Noctis' voice drifted in from the other room. "Can we have cake yet? Or are you two still being disgusting?"

Ignis chuckled, and Prompto enjoyed the feeling of its vibrations against his back. "I think we should give the people what they want."

"Probably," Prompto snorted. "Or 'the people' are just going to get more whiny." Ignis released him, but before he could move away fully, Prompto reached up, and pulled him down for a kiss. Ignis went willingly, and Prompto thought that was a feeling that would never get old. That feeling of knowing Ignis wanted to kiss him.

When they parted for air, Prompto was smiling, and feeling like he was high on the lingering tingle of lips against his. "Happy birthday, Iggy."

[Luxury Starshine]

The next Monday rolled around uneasily, carrying the weight of both Monday, with having had the weekend off, and a Friday, knowing that they had the next day off for the festival. Ignis had been right, not that Prompto hadn't already known, the usual streets had already been shut down for days, and had been steadily becoming more and more filled with vendor booths. He knew several people in class would be heading straight off to help decorate the streets after school. Prompto knew that if he wanted to, he could join them. He wouldn't. Not this year anyway.

Naturally, everyone was talking about tomorrow's festival. Even Noctis, who had no sweetheart, mentioned it when lunchtime came around. "You'd think they'd just give us the Monday off too. What's the point of making us come into school for one day? They know we're not even gonna be motivated."

Prompto snorted. "I don't think that's how it works, buddy."

"Well it should."

"You gonna make it a decree when you're king?"

"Also not how it works," Noctis grumbled next to him, though Prompto got the deep suspicion that if there weren't a council to go through, the answer would have been yes. "What are you doing?"

"Gimme a second." Prompto dug around in his bag until he found the thing he'd been looking for. It was a small envelope that he offered to Noctis.

Noctis looked at it like it was a vegetable stew. "What's what?"

"It's my paycheck." His first one, actually, since he'd been allowed to come back after being so ill. It had felt good to be able to work again. It had felt even better knowing that he could start paying Noctis off.

"Why are you giving that to me?"

"Because I owe you money?!"

Noctis shrugged. "No? You didn't have the surgery. We're good." Prompto knew that as far as Noctis was concerned, they were 'good' anyway, but that definitely wasn't how he saw it.

"I know there are cancellation fees! Especially on a specialist like that!"

"Yeah?" Noctis shrugged again, which Prompto normally found pretty funny or endearing, but right now was really annoying. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't cancel it then."

"What?" Prompto was lost. Just so very, very lost. He had watched Noctis wander off into the other room that night, phone to his ear. He remembered Noctis coming back, flopping back on the couch and saying that it had been taken care of. Now he was saying he hadn't cancelled it?! "What do you mean you didn't cancel it?!"

"I mean," Noctis took a deep breath. "I mean you're right, there would have been fees, and Dr. Adamas had already flown into Insomnia, and we agreed that it'd be a huge waste for her to just fly back. So, we picked someone else."

"You just...picked someone else, just like that?"

Again with the vaguely annoying shug. "MalBook is really good for that sort of thing? Took me like three seconds to find a sob story." Noctis took in a hissing breath. "Which makes me sound like a giant a*****e, because it really was kind of tragic?"

"...Tell me about it?" Prompto's accepted his fate by now - he's keeping his paycheck. He slid it easily back into his schoolbag, and then leaned forward to listen to Noctis talk.

"So, it's not like, a super long story. So you know, boy meets girl kind of thing. They met at work, and just. They click. They're fast friends, but it's not long before she's in love. Like any other story, she doesn't want to ruin what they've already got, so she keeps it to herself until the hana hits."

"Do you know what kind of flower?"

"Pink roses. Just petals at first, but terrifying enough."

"I know that." He didn't talk about it a lot, but there was a terror to it. This thing, this beautiful thing, it was going to kill you, and all you could do was either accept it or face something somehow even more terrifying. His first couple of dates with Ignis had been dedicated mostly to talking through things that were still not quite resolved. He would always remember the way that Ignis had stilled when he'd talked about the terror.

"I remember that," he remembered Ignis admitting softly. "A terror I can no longer place. I can only assume it was from the Hanahaki."

"It feels like it can kill you all on its own."

"I bet." When he glanced up he found Noctis looking at him with a softness that made Prompto wiggle in his seat. Princes weren't supposed to look at commoners like that. "I bet it was the worst." He thankfully moved on without Prompto saying anything else. "She decided to tell him, because what other choice did she have." He drifted, and Prompto knew what was coming must have been bad.

"And then?"

"He was hit by a bus. Died."

"********."

"Yeah." There was a pause between them before Noctis went on. "So she was really stuck, you know. She couldn't move on because he was dead and she'd never have resolution. She'd never know."

"So you gave the surgery to her?"

"I mean," Noctis huffed a little. "I did ask first. Doctor Adamas said okay. So did she. I didn't...go, but I heard it went well. It wasn't a huge gap in her memory, because it was only a few months, and he wasn't there to relapse on. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it, actually. It got a ton of coverage as one of those heartwarming stories the news likes to do at the end of the broadcast? Even Dad called me at one point and told me what good PR it was."

"So it really worked out for you."

"I guess." Noctis shrugged uncomfortably. "The PR wasn't why I did it, but it was a nice side effect. Everyone thought I was being a good prince for a little while." He shrugged again, this time his shoulders stayed by his neck, as thought they'd gotten stuck there. "So, anyway, point is, you don't owe me a yen, okay?"

"Okay." Prompto wasn't sure he quite believed that, but he was going to let it go for now. His mind was really more stuck on that poor girl. He tried to imagine what he would have done if Ignis had just suddenly died, even after he'd decided he wasn't going to confess, and all roads lead to nothing good. He tried to heave a sigh over it, but on came the coughing again. It was definitely the worst fit he'd had since the night he'd accidentally confessed. Easily.

After about the first five hacking coughs, Prompto felt hands on his shoulders, and he knew Noctis had gotten up even though he couldn't pause to open his eyes. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Prompto shook his head no through the coughs. No. He didn't need that. He definitely did not need that. What he needed was for this hana to get out of his chest. Going to the hospital wouldn't help that, in fact by the time they got there, by the time they got to the front doors of the school even, it would be done. No, they just needed to wait.

They did, they waited while Prompto coughed and coughed into his hands for what felt like eternity until the offending hana fell into his hands. For a moment, Prompto felt the entire world drop out from under him because in his hands was not a single bud, but a cluster of six. He breathed in, and then suddenly everything was okay, because he breathed.

It somehow felt like the first full breath he'd ever taken. It felt like the air went all the way down to the bottom of his lungs and stayed there. It felt like the first breath of fresh air on a spring day, after being cooped up inside all winter. It felt...something. A word he couldn't quite find.

"Are you okay? You look like you're gonna cry."

Noctis' voice brought him back to reality, and Prompto blinked, feeling like Noctis was right. He might just be about to cry. He held it back. "Yeah! Yeah. I'm fine. I Uh. I need you to take a picture of this." Already he was digging back in his pockets for his phone, and Noctis was giving him a confused look.

"Okay?"

"No, don't. It's." Prompto puffed out a huff, as he unlocked his phone to give to Noctis. "This is it."

"What?"

"This is it. It's gone." He handed his phone over, and Noctis took it, though his grip was so lax that Prompto feared he'd let it fall. "So take a picture?"

There was a long moment where Prompto wasn't even sure Noctis had heard him, but then a grin so wide that Prompto wasn't sure it was legal for the prince to look like that in public plastered his face. Prompto thought now it Noctis who looked like he might cry. "Okay." For how big the grin was, his voice was small. He lifted the phone up, and Prompto waited until he heard the fake shutter noise to move again. "Do you want another?"

"No. I'm sure whatever you got was good." He took his phone back, and Noctis slipped back into his seat, still smiling. He hadn't known Noctis could smile like that. On top of it all, it made him happy to see.

"So what are you doing now?"

"I'm gonna text Iggy."

Noctis made a noise that sounded more like his normal, slightly disgruntled teenager, self. "Text Gladio too. He'll want to know."

" 'Kay." He texted Gladio first, just a quick, 'Hey, as of rn, I don't have hanahaki anymore.' That would be fine for Gladio. For Ignis though, he pulled up the picture Noctis had taken and dropped it into their conversation. He followed it up with -

Prompto, 12:17 p.m. : I coughed up the last of my hana. #hanahakisurvivor

Prompto figured that Ignis was probably in one council meeting or another right then, so when he got a text back only moments later, it was a complete surprise.

Ignis, 12:18 p.m. : Did Noct take that picture?
Prompto 12:18 p.m. : yea. Plz don't be mad! We're on lunch. Promise.
Ignis, 12:19 p.m. :I'm not angry. Simply surprised. His pictures usually leave something to be desired.

Prompto chuckled, and then turned off his phone, knowing he shouldn't tempt fate by texting more. That made it even more of a surprise when his phone went off not long after with another text from Ignis.

Ignis, 12:25 p.m. : Come over this evening? At around seven?

His heart pounded in his chest, and he quickly typed up a response, even as Noctis rolled his eyes and called him disgusting (for probably the thousandth time since they'd gotten together.)

Prompto, 12:26 p.m. : I will def be there!

Immediately his phone buzzed twice for two texts. The first was Gladio congratulating him along with a thumbs up emoji. The second was Ignis again.

Ignis, 12:27 p.m. : I look forward to it. Now turn off your phone and get back to class.
Prompto, 12:28 p.m. : Hey! Hey! You texted me this time! razz

After that though, he did turn off his phone and stick it back into his pocket. It didn't buzz again.

[Luxury Starshine]

Friday was still game night.

Prompto wasn't sure how he did it, but Noctis practically demanded that after five on Fridays was off limits. Prompto suspected that was a couple hours earlier than most officials went home, but it didn't matter. Five o'clock on Friday he was expected to be at Noct's apartment ready to play some games, eat food, and have fun. It wasn't the only time set aside for them to do things or hang out, but it the only consistent time. No matter how Noctis might whine about how boring meetings were or gripe about old politicians, Noctis had stepped into his role has prince the moment he'd graduated nearly half a year ago now, and Prompto thought he did a pretty good job. If Friday evenings were the line in the sand that he told people to not to cross with him, his advisor, and his shield, well, Prompto couldn't blame him for just one evening. Everyone needed time.

Prompto had miraculously set up his own schedule so that he was definitely available every evening and weekends, so if one of them called for him he could be there almost no questions asked. Every Friday he was there before they were, the guards at the doors didn't even bother to stop him anymore. It was practically as though he lived there himself.

The setup itself hadn't much changed, food, games, and sometimes a movie. The biggest difference was the weekly talk (argument?) where Noctis tried to get Ignis to order in rather than cook. That, Prompto suspected, was far less about not wanting to eat what he made, hidden veggies and all, and more about getting Ignis to sit on the couch with them sooner. Noctis had taken a very active role lately in what he called "reconnecting" with Ignis. Prompto couldn't complain either way. On one hand he loved Ignis' cooking. On the other hand he loved cuddling his boyfriend. He stayed out of their little talks. It was win-win for him.

This Friday was a little different. Not so much in setup and the night itself, but in the plans they had for the next day. It was October, and though Daemon's Night was technically only the very last night of October, it had grown into such a large thing over the years that it was practically a month-long celebration. Daemon's could be seen everywhere, as well as pumpkins, bats, spiders, and all the little things people had deemed spooky and scary over the millennia. It was only eleven days until the holiday itself, when children dressed up in costume and went around begging candy off strangers.

In between now and then was Prompto's birthday. He hadn't heard anything from Noctis, Gladio, or Ignis, and he grew more and more suspicious about what as happening in their brains by the day, but that was still a few days away. Tonight was game night, and then tomorrow, once Noctis deemed himself rested enough to bother getting up they were going off to talk a walk through a Horror House. Well. They as in Noctis, Gladio and him. Ignis still said absolutely not at every turn. Even without Ignis going, there was a sense of anticipation clinging to everything about the evening, so Prompto didn't really find it surprising when Gladio pushed himself up from the couch an hour earlier than he normally might and said he was hitting the hay.

Noctis booed him, but Ignis got up from his seat and walked him to the door. Prompto could hear them softly chatting, but couldn't make out precisely what was being said. Probably discussing the details of tomorrow. Like whether Gladio was going to be Noctis' only guard at the Horror House. Ugh. Prompto didn't want to think about it.

A couple minutes later Ignis returned, only to say, "I think I'm going to head on out myself."

"Boo, Specs, boo!"

Ignis ignored his jab. "When you're done here," Ignis now had Prompto's almost full attention, because he knew he was talking to him. "Come on up to bed. All right?"

"Okay."

"No matter the time, do you hear me?"

"Yep. Three a.m. Got it."

Ignis chuckled, and boy did Prompto wish that he could pause the game right now to look at his face. He supposed he would have to settle for the feel of lips against his temple. "I'll see you in a couple hours."

It wasn't until the door had closed behind Ignis that Noctis spoke again. "So."

"So?"

"Was that the 'I'm really talking about sleep' come to bed? Or the 'I want your clothes off in the worst way' come to bed?"

Prompto dared to look away from the screen long enough to glare in Noctis' direction. "I really should have never told you he has two different ways of saying it." Not that he'd even actually said what the two different inflections meant! Noctis had just (correctly) guessed on his own.

Noctis didn't respond to that, but he was grinning, and that was bad enough. "Well?"

Prompto huffed. "It was the 'I don't want you walking halfway across the city at midnight' come to bed."

"So just sleep."

"Yes."

About a minute passed in silence. "Are you lying to spare my brain that mental image?"

"No." He really wasn't, not that he would tell him if he were.

Two hours later, the game was turned off and they went their separate ways. Noctis to his bedtime routine and Prompto up the stairs to Ignis' apartment. The door was unlocked, and after he'd stepped inside and toed his shoes off he locked it behind him. He didn't find Ignis in bed, (he hadn't really expected to.) Instead he found Ignis at his kitchen table, papers spread out, laptop open, tablet off to one side. Prompto was sure Ignis knew someone else was in his apartment, but he was also sure Ignis knew it was him, and that didn't register enough on his radar for him to even look up from his work.

"Iggy," he sighed. "It's almost midnight."

That seemed to get through the fog of focus, and Ignis looked up to the clock on the stove. "So it is." He looked back down again almost immediately. "Go on and get ready for bed, Darling. I'll be there in a minute."

If there was anything that Prompto had learned since staying the night had become acceptable practice for them it was that when work was out on the table a "minute" meant an hour. After which you'd bug him again and it'd become a "moment" which was about fifteen more minutes. "Nope. Not tonight." He grabbed the back of Ignis' chair and, with a little resistance, dragged it out.

"Prompto, what are you--"

Ignis didn't get to complete that question because before he got it all out, Prompto had him straddled (albeit a little awkwardly, but it worked,), hands cupping his face, and was kissing him. The resistance he got was token at best before he was being kissed fervently in return, hands settled down on his waist and thumbs rubbed circles into his hipbones. That was really nice, he liked the motion, and of course he liked the kissing, but it couldn't go on too long before it became the thing that he'd assured Noctis this wasn't.

He pulled back. "Come to bed, Iggy." The work could wait. Most people didn't even go into the office on Saturday or Sunday. The work could wait. "Please?"

"Yes, all right," Ignis said a little breathlessly, and Prompto gave him another long kiss for it. "Let me put this away," he said when they parted again. That was agreeable. After all, Ignis really shouldn't even have the paperwork around where his pleb boyfriend could see it, not that Prompto was likely to read or understand even if it he did, any of it. It was best if it was put away properly for the night. That didn't stop Prompto from settling in against the counter to watch him and make sure he didn't get back into working on it again.

Once it was safely put away they went to bed. As utilitarian as his apartment might be in other spots, Ignis had a luxurious bed. It was easily large enough for the two of them. It was actually larger than Noctis' bed, and with Noctis being the king of naps, you'd think he'd have the best bed. No. Ignis definitely had him beat. The bed had apparently been a purchase to combat insomnia, something Ignis had an on and off battle with. It didn't really help, according to Ignis, but it was comfortable and pleasing, so he'd kept it anyway.

In Ignis' bed, Prompto fell asleep almost instantly.

The clock read 3:04 in bright red the next time he opened his eyes. He had to push himself up a little to see it, and he'd clearly slid down in his time asleep. He and Ignis had also intertwined during that time, and while it had apparently been comfortable before, it was anything but now. He tried, he really did, to unwind his legs from Ignis' own without waking him, but before he managed it Ignis' eyes creaked open. Prompto internally groaned. "Turn over," Ignis mumbled, eyes closing again. For a moment his own half asleep brain thought Ignis was talking about the pastry. While his brain chased that thought, Ignis repeated himself. "Turn over." This time it was accompanied by a light tap to his shoulder, and Prompto felt like an idiot. He turned over and slid himself back down under the covers.

There was a slight wooshing of sheets sliding over one another as Ignis himself straightened them out. Then, arms slid around his waist and he was pulled back against Ignis' front. He could feel Ignis press his face against his shoulder. It was warm. "Better?" The groggy nature of the words gave away that Ignis was already mostly asleep again. Prompto smiled.

"Great."

"Good." The word was more a breath than anything else, and then Ignis was gone again. Prompto wasn't far after him.