#cinnadad

Prompto blinks and then smiles a little, “I can’t summon things.”

Cor just stares at him for a beat and then turns back toward the house, “Stay here.”

Prompto shifts, uncomfortable, but does as he’s told. The morning air is chilled enough that he jogs in place a bit to stay warm in the breeze coming off the lake, even still it’s lovely and he feels a pang of sadness that they have to leave tomorrow. He wonders, in the moment alone, if Noctis and the others ever wish that this was their life instead, here in the house by the lake, fishing and just being normal. He knows that they’re all proficient hunters and he’s sure they could do so many other things, if birth had been kinder.

Prompto starts to realize that maybe his common status is a blessing, even with the shadow of his past growing longer with each passing year. He’s pulled from the dark thoughts by the telltale sound of Noctis grumbling.

He turns with a grin tugging at his lips in time to see Cor half-pulling the Prince, still in his PJ’s with hair a mess, across the yard.

“You brought it on yourself. You gave Prompto a weapon and brought him close to you and didn’t think to give him access to the armiger. Maybe think ahead next time and I’ll let you sleep.”

“You said people hadtabetrained.” Noctis yawns the last bit, mushing the words.

Cor just looks unimpressed and Prompto pats his shoulder, “Buddy, you’re not awake enough to argue, just do your thing and go back to bed.”

Noctis makes a noise that Prompto takes as agreement because the next moment he’s got an armful of Prince and Noctis is kissing him sloppily, making soft noises and Prompto’s blushing a bit because Cor is right there. Before he can be too mortified Noctis pulls back and speaks something softly in old Lucian and then kisses him again and there’s power, a fissure in the air that Prompto knows is all Noctis and then it’s in him too, running under his skin. A livewire of power laces into his bones and they part. He looks down and finds the blue energy wrapping around them both before it sinks into Prompto’s skin and Noctis gives him a smug sleepy smile and stumbles away with a half assed wave to Cor.

“Tell Gladio an extra hour of training with you for the week after that display.”

The Prince just gives Cor the finger.

“I’m guessing he didn’t kiss everybody else then?” Prompto says it more to ease his own embarrassment than anything else and Cor just shakes his head.

“Drama Queen.” They both say and Cor’s eyes sparkle a moment, leaving Prompto to wonder what kind of mischief might be held back by the Marshal’s seriousness.

“Now then. Summon your weapon.”

Prompto’s brows draw together and he hold out his hand, fingers flexing. He feels stupid when nothing happens and is immediately reminded of the scene in the first Spider-Man when Peter makes a fool of himself trying to figure out the web. The difference is plain, one of them has an audience. Cor’s expression doesn’t change though and Prompto shakes himself.

He tries to focus on the magic in him now and goes with what feels right, tugging his hand back as he pulls on the energy. He feels something in his grasp and excitedly moves to aim only to realize….

“Uh...ebony?”

Cor raises an eyebrow at the can of coffee Ignis has a taste for held in Prompto’s grasp and the blonde blushes brightly shaking his hand and sending it away, reaching again and being careful to feel out something that when he touches on it feels his mouth with the taste of hot metal.

This time the motion is rewarded and he holds the pistol Noct gave to him when Ardyn came, it’s beautiful and idly he thinks he should add it to his tattoos as he flicks off the safety and takes aim at the target Cor set up the day before.

He squeezes off a shot and the glass bottle erupts, making him crow triumphantly. Cor smiles at him wanly and then he’s summoning a sword.

“Hitting targets is good, helps keep your eye sharp but when you’re shooting to protect yourself it’s harder. I’m going to attack you in a moment, first load these.” he tosses Prompto rubber shots, “and do me a favor, don’t aim for the head.”

Prompto flops on the couch beside Noctis, burying his head in his boyfriends shoulder, “I’m a bruise. A very tender bruise.”

Noctis just snorts and pushes at him until they’re settled against each other comfortably, “I peeked out earlier, you got a few good hits on Cor.”

“Tell it to my bones.” Prompto mumbles into Noctis’ shirt even as Iris bounces on the couch beside him, making him groan as it shifts him around. Cor had only hit him with the flat of his blade but that had been enough and his arms and legs throbbed, a nasty purple likely hiding just under his ribs too.

“Uh-oh, sorry Prompto! It’s too dreary out to go outside, should we watch a movie?” Iris’ cheer wasn’t dampened by the two bleary boys and Prompto offers a quick thumbs up as Noctis answers, “You pick.”

The memo must get around because a few minutes later everyone is seated around the living room, Regis and Clarus taking the armchairs as Ignis and Gladio seat themselves on the floor and Cor sits on the footstool, leaving the other three on the couch. Ignis passes out bowls of fresh popcorn as Iris presses play and the rain that starts is a nice background to the film. It’s an animated story of a girls adventure, a story of growing up and being yourself in a charming style.

Prompto sniffles a little at the end and Noctis gives his hand a squeeze where their fingers are tangled, looking around Prompto see’s that he’s not the only one affected as several others are heavily glassy eyed and Ignis surreptitiously wipes at his eyes.

As the credits roll and the room is deathly quiet so he clears his throat, “Hey! Let’s watch Emperors New Groove!”

There’s an enthusiastic agreement and Regis, his voice grating and high yells, “Pull the Lever Kronk!”

It makes him feel less heavy as everyone seems to warm to the idea and Ignis gets up to make more popcorn.

“I told Gladdy he should be Kronk for Halloween.” Iris pokes her big brother with her toe and Prompto laughs as Noctis rolls his eyes, snuggling into Prompto’s side more.

“Only if Ignis is Yzma.”

The dignified choking noise from the kitchen answers that suggestion.

The last night at the cabin is bittersweet, they roast s’mores over a flame that Regis produces and controls in a bowl. Prompto laughs as Noctis makes a mess of himself and even Ignis has marshmallow smeared over his cheek.

Regis takes great joy in smashing a warm piece of marshmallow into Clarus’ face when the shield tries to talk about the meeting the next day and they take turns trying to catch pieces of graham crackers that Gladio tosses in their mouths.

“I must say Prompto, it’s been lovely having you along. I hope that you’ll be with us again for next years outing.”

Prompto turns to look at Regis as a piece of cracker pelts his cheek, blushing, “I hope that I will too sir. It’s nice to be together like this, like a family. It’s not something I’m used to and uh, it’s really great that you’ve got this sort of thing, especially with Insomnia and Lucis and uh...everything.”

He doesn’t know if he can actually blush anymore than he already is but Regis is smiling at him warmly and Noctis leans into his side and a glance shows Clarus and Cor both looking warmer.

“You are right in thinking it’s a hard thing to have, when we are men overwhelmed too often by our duties. I believe our children have had a great deal of influence in this and I am proud of them.” Regis pauses and looks around the table as Clarus adds, “not as successors, or rather, not only as successors, but simply as our family. I too am very proud of you all for remembering the things that are important outside of your duty to the crown.”

The table is silent for a moment and then there are grins and Gladio snorts, “You know that might’ve been more weighty if there wasn’t still marshmallow on your nose.”

Prompto stares at him, then looks back to the others, Noctis is splayed out in his chair, legs spread, one drapped over the arm, chin just resting on his fingertips, elbow on the unoccupied arm. It’s hot as hell, with the imperial expression on his face and Prompto has too look away from him quickly. Regis is standing ramrod straight, one eyebrow raised and the same hauty look that his son has is painted on his face. Gladiolus and Clarus are posturing rather intensely at each other behind their respective charges, two pairs of intense eyebrows communicating all their own.

Ignis is sipping his coffee but each time he sets his cup down the sound is crisp and pointed and his relaxed elegance seems drawn tight. Beside him Iris is bouncing in her chair and keeps shooting Prompto looks of excitement. He isn’t sure how things got so out of hand, one minute Noctis’ points were tied with his and everything was fine and then he was climbing until he had the most points, leaving Prompto in the dust. Regis, the defending champion, behind Iris (Prompto learned they just counted second place as winning because she was that good) had stood from his chair and the weirdest moment of Prompto’s life had begun.

Cor leans back a little beside him, they’re at the very end of the long table, something that Prompto had pouted about a little at first since it was further from Noctis, and hums. 

“Regis is going to say something soon...five crowns it’s an offer of peace, full throne room decorum.”

Prompto glances at Noctis and smiles, he can play this game, “Noct won’t take it, six crowns he doesn’t even say words to decline.”

Cor raises an eyebrow at the specificity but then continues, “Double or nothing if Regis challenges him to a contest.”

“You’re on, Noct will try to make Gladio do it for him.”

“Extra hour of training tomorrow if he gets you to do it for him...or with him.”

Prompto groans at the exact moment Reigs speaks.

“Prince Noctis, it has been pleasurable to play but it is growing later. Let’s be gentlemen and bow out gracefully now, Lady Iris certainly has us beaten.”

Prompto just waits, and sure enough, Noctis scoffs and waves a hand dismissively, a clear refusal. Regis smiles a bit at his son.

“It’s been awhile since our last battle, hasn’t it? What say you Clarus?”

Prompto is a touch more concerned at the way that everyone seems to be aware of something important, Clarus is nodding and the others are standing, even Cor. He scrambles to his feet as well and throws a desperate look at Noctis who just winks at him and goes back to staring at his father, rising from his chair with unusual grace.

“Ignis?”

Noctis sounds confident in the answer to his question but Prompto watches in horror as Ignis shakes his head and gestures to him. The Prince looks him over for a moment, lips slightly pursed and then he grins.

“Prompto then, is my partner.”

Regis nods seriously and Cor just sighs, claps Prompto’s shoulder, and he, Ignis, Gladio, and Iris start pushing furniture out of the way, creating an open space that’s alarmingly wide to Prompto.

“Noct? What did you just sign me up for dude?”

His lover laughs a little and comes closer, pressing his fist to Prompto’s shoulder.

“Fun, and the knowledge you get to kick a King’s butt!”

He’s already not looking forward to the extra training and there’s the little detail of fighting a literal ruler. Not that he hasn’t wacked Noctis a time or two when the Prince is being particularly irritating...

Whatever, the point stands.

“What exactly are we doing?”

Noctis leans into him and Prompto snakes an arm around his waist on instinct, listening to his Prince explain. The game is simple, Regis will get on Clarus’ shoulders, Noctis on Prompto’s, the first group to have a player fall loses.

“Noct...They’re both a lot stronger than us.”

It’s clearly not a deterrent because Noctis just shrugs, “So? I’ve got way better balance than Dad and you’re faster than Clarus, just keep me up and we’ll win for sure.”

Prompto looks at the joy and confidence radiating from Noctis and just gives in.

“You’ve never even heard of stacked odds have you?”

Noct just laughs again and the sound of it warms Prompto from his toes. He wonders, for a moment, if there’s a way to capture the feeling of Noctis’ smile in an image. If there is he’ll have to ink it over his heart. 

Noctis touches Prompto’s lip ring, “You might want to take this out or something though.”

Prompto groans but nods and goes to switch it out for a small clear spacer instead. When he returns the tables, chairs, and various smaller items have been shoved against the walls in haphazard positions to clear a space wide enough for the four of them to do something dumb.

He reflexively looks up at the ceiling, it’s higher than a lot of places like this, but he’s still pretty sure that someone’s going to get some brain damage from the exposed beams. 

Cor just follows his gaze and shrugs at him when he looks askance and Prompto figures that’s pretty much all there is too it. Though, consider neither Noctis nor himself has much height he can probably use it to their advantage.

“Ready?”

Noctis is dressed down, having tossed off his fishing vest and his boots are off. Prompto takes the hint and rolls the bottom of his pants so he won’t step on them and tugs off his socks for better traction. On the other side of the space Clarus and Regis are already in more flexible clothing, soft dark knit training clothes (and yeah, it’s still weird for Prompto) talking quietly.

“So...strategy?”

Noctis studies the space and looks back at Prompto with a serious set to his lips, “Alright, here’s the plan...don’t fall.”

Prompto stares and then snorts, “Noctis, that’s as good a plan as “hey, don’t die when I kill you.””

The Prince just glares, “No, specifically you don’t fall, just keep us out of the way of their hits as much as you can, since you’re the feet, and I’ll do the rest.”

“See, now that’s only kinda a plan.”

“Prom, listen, I know all of my Dad’s ticklish spots and NO ONE tickles a King, so he’ll squirm himself right off Clarus’ shoulders as long as you can dance around fast enough.”

Prompto grins, because yeah, that sounds like it might actually work. 

“Now bend down so I can get in position.”

Prompto mock bows at Noctis but keeps his mouth shut and turns the gesture into the kneel needed for Noctis to sling his legs over Prompto’s shoulders. The Prince is built sturdy but still light and Prompto’s grateful he’s done more strength training at the gym lately. 

Regis seats himself on Clarus and Cor steps forward just as Iris rushes back into the space, a bowl of popcorn in her hands and a grin on her face.

Cor just sighs as she plops down between Ignis and Gladio on the couch that’s been shoved next to the door.

“Alright gentlemen, rules are: No hair pulling, no switching partners, try not to break each other, Top fighter can’t kick bottom fighter in the face or grab them by their nostrils, and if you do that ever again Regis I will personally dethrone you, loser has to fight Iggy and Gladiolus. Good luck.”

Prompto wants, very suddenly, to win incredibly badly. He doesn’t know if there’s any other signal, so he waits for Noctis to direct him, the Prince touches his cheek lightly and Prompto glances up as much as he can, catching the edge of Noctis’ smile.

“Let’s do it!”

They make the first move, Prompto’s feet carrying them forward quickly and Noctis jabs at his father’s chest, Regis blocks it, but only just and Clarus leans into it a bit to counter-balance them. The test of balance doesn’t get returned though, since Prompto’s already pulled them out of reach when Regis tries it.

“Ooh, he’s fast!” Iris’ voice almost distracts him as they are rushed and he feels more than see’s Regis’ shove to Noctis, though he barely has to do anything to resist the movement since Noctis seems to absorb the force and balance himself.

He returns the attack, grabbing his father and pulling him forward, fingers digging into this armpits. 

Prompto, as a result, finds himself in the bizarre position of being nose to cheek with Clarus Amicitia. They don’t speak, any movement and they might be kissing and Prompto feels his cheeks burning as Iris catcalls and Gladio’s laughter drowns out Ignis’ own chuckle.

He can’t back away, aware that if he does Noctis will be pulled off his shoulders but he doesn’t have to.

Clarus jerks back, Regis’ foot swinging a hair’s breadth from Prompto’s face as he flails backwards, his son’s attack and his own squirming having forced him off balance. Clarus tries to compensate as they part, and Prompto can see that he’s going to fail.

“YES!” Noctis yelps as the two teeter and Prompto’s almost whooping when they find their balance.

“Oh. Uh-oh.” Prompto’s grin fades as Regis regains himself and the determination in Clarus’ eyes is renewed.

“Uh, Noct?”

“Iggy’s gonna cream us dude.”

Prompto laughs, “Maybe we should focus on not dying to your father first?”

They brace themselves and give it their all, but Clarus sweeps Prompto’s feet out from under him as Regis abuses Noctis’ own ticklish spots.  

Laying together in a pile of limbs Prompto’s ribs hurt from laughing and Noctis keeps kissing his face and telling him he’s “a brave knight.”

They’re only pulled from it when Ignis clears his throat delicately. Prompto sighs, resigned to their fate and kneels again for the Prince. 

Gladiolus does the same for Ignis and the two sides rise together, only to have their epic stare off broken when Ignis makes a very undignified sound.

His perfectly styled hair is being crunched beneath the beam that Prompto noted at first and he half-slaps Gladio’s cheek in a silent effort to get him to move out from under it.

The shield scoffs but steps to the side and Ignis spends a few moments carefully fixing his style. Noctis’ laughter and Prompto’s own make it hard to stay upright together. Their opponents wait for them to get it together and Prompto groans again.

“Not too many brusies Gladio, please.”

The big man just winks at him and he and Ignis launch their attack.

It’s over in a minute, a painful and humiliating minute. Prompto’s breathing is labored, the wind knocking out of him by Gladio’s fist and Noctis isn’t in much better shape laying beside him. 

Gladio is grinning at them as Cor lazily declares the winners, “Not laughing now huh kid?”

Prompto grins wide and Noctis flips him the bird, to the amusement of the other’s. Regis helps them up and they all take a second to breath.

“It’s been ages since we did that.” Clarus is a bit breathless as he speaks and Noctis nods in agreement.

“Ages since we did a lot of things, I’d say you’d better keep this one around Noctis, he seems to make us remember how to live a little.” Cor says it, nudging Prompto’s back and making him blush again.

“As long as he doesn’t try to kiss dad again!” Iris chimes in and Prompto isn’t sure he could get much redder.

Noctis laughs and pulls him into a kiss instead, his lips soft and Prompto can’t manage to be embarrassed about the display as he kisses him back.

“Awwwww.”

Day five dawns far too early, again. He’s bouncing Azreal softly, the little boy snuggled into his shoulder and only just quieting down, his little chest still working hard after all the wailing he’d done. Still in her crib Illyria’s face works, nose wrinkling and Prompto’s cooing at her, reaching as much as he can with his free arm to touch her stomach so she doesn’t start crying as well.

His hair is a mess and there’s circles under his eyes, he’s pretty sure the shirt he’s wearing is on inside out and his pants are somewhere under the bed. It tends to happen when one gets up at three am.

Azreal shifts and squirms a little and Prompto groans when he smells the present waiting for him.

“C’mon bud, I just changed you!”

He draws his hand, reaching toward Illyria, back and is rewarded by her immediate squalling cry. He sighs, looking between the crying girl and Azreal, who’s already scrunching his face again, ready to join his sister.

“Alright. Daddy’s getting his butt up tonight.”

Prompto sets Azreal down carefully in the crib, ignoring the way he and Illyria and both crying now, and shakes his husband, pinching Noctis’ shoulder lightly as he stirs.

“Wha? Loud...Prom, turn it off.”

Prompto huffs, not angry, though he is very tired. Noctis needs his sleep, the magic in his blood drains so much from him if he doesn’t rest. Right now though, he’s willing to spread the exhaustion.

“I can’t turn off our kiddos. C’mon Noct, please, I’ve only got two hands.”

That gets bleary eyes open at least and Noctis frowns at him, ready to say something snarky and go back to bed, but his husband just looks so worn out.

He sighs, pats a stray tuft of Prompto’s hair down and sits up with a groan.

“Hand me whichever one isn’t stinking up the room.”

Prompto sighs in relief and picks up Illyria, tucking her into Noctis’ arms as the Prince wakes up more, rocking the little girl and making soft hushing sounds. Prompto smiles a little and scoops Azreal back up.

“Sorry bud, let’s get you cleaned up!”

“You two look like shit.”

Gladiolus’ never been one to sugarcoat, Prompto thinks to himself as he thoughtlessly stirs his oatmeal. It’s day nine and the nursery is finally finished, just awaiting his and Noct’s approval. He’s looking forward to having their bedroom back, but not too being away from the little one’s, even if it’s just across the hall.

“Yeah well, when you’re getting a third of the sleep you’re used to, you look like death too.”

Noctis’ temper is...interesting lately. He knows he’s being obnoxious about it, especially since it’s only been a couple of days for him (really less than half of what Prompto’s put up with) and Ignis assured them that once the babies were settled they would sleep more regularly. Still he smears extra jam into his food and gulps it down.

“I shudder to think how the two of you would run a kingdom on this kind of sleep.”

Ignis sounds especially sour, though it likely has to do with the spit-up he’s mopping off his shoulder and how pleased their son looks with himself. Prompto’s spoon pauses, raised in the air, as he realizes.

Their son. His little boy.

He looks at Illyria, pillowed against Gladio’s shoulder and fast asleep.

His daughter.

He drops his spoon and covers his mouth, blinking back tired tears as he’s overwhelmed a little again by the whole thing. Noctis stops eating and reaches for him, concern in his features.

“Prom?”

Prompto shakes his head, offering a shaky smile, “Sorry! Sorry...just...look at them. They’re ours.”

Gladio snorts and shakes his head a little, even as Noctis slowly looks between him and Ignis.

“Yeah Prom, they are. They’re ours and they’re adorable.”

“The children are quite precious also.”

Ignis adds, making Noctis scowl and Prompto laughs, wiping away his tears.

“Sorry, I’m waaaay too tired. Let’s check out the nursery after this and then I’m taking a nap.”

Azreal gurgles happily into the silence that follows as the worn out Prince’s finish their breakfast and Gladio and Ignis smile at each other across the table.

Regis hasn’t yet met his adopted grandchildren and he’s a bit put out about that, so when

Clarus gives him the all clear for the day (and really he’s avoiding a lot of people but damnit, this is his family) he makes a beeline for the nursery.

It’s painted in soft rose and gold tones, much gentler and warmer than most of the citadel’s decor. He relaxes a little just by being in the room. The two cribs are off to one side, two changing table nearby, two neat dressers, a small pile of soft toys and a basket of books, and a large plush rug fill the rest of the room.

The two rocking chairs near the large window looking out over the city are occupied and Regis pauses to take in the sight. Ignis had informed him they hadn’t been getting much sleep, as to be expected, but the boys looked like they were adjusting alright. Noctis was asleep, chin tucked into his chest and his daughter still cradled in his arms, her little hand waving out of the blanket idly.

Prompto’s head was tipped back, his mouth slightly open as he breathed slowly, his son asleep on his shoulder, fingers curled around the collar of his father’s shirt. Regis reached into the crystal’s space and pulled Prompto’s camera from it, taking several carefully photo’s of the little family and one silly selfie with each boy.

He sent the camera back and simply looked down at his grandchildren, while he had the quiet.

Illyria’s pale blue eyes are open and Regis smiles at her, lightly touching her closed fist and grinning when she grasps at his finger and gurgles. He let’s her have his hand and examines Azreal’s sleeping face.

Regis can’t help but chuckle quietly, they would manage to find children who looked so much like them. The freckles and dark hair, Illyria’s blue eyes, if he didn’t know better he’d swear they were Prompto and Noctis blood.

His laugh wakes Prompto, who blinks and shifts, making the babe on his chest pout and make soft noises, he immediately stands, nodding at Regis a little, and bouncing the baby before he can work up a true cry.

“Hey!” He whispers quickly. Regis just smiles in response and nods questioningly toward the child. Prompto bites his lip, looking at Azreal but he hands him over carefully just the same and Regis picks up the rock-and-step movement that’s half forgotten from when Noctis was small like this. Azreal squints up at him and he notes more blue eyes, darker than the other. The little boy isn’t sure at first but after a minute he decides Regis will do and falls back to sleep.

“They’re very sweet.”

“I know, I have no idea how we got so lucky.”

Prompto nudges Noctis awake carefully as he speaks and smiles at Regis, “Well, Noct might not agree, he’s developed the opinion that-”

“Babies are the most annoying alarm clocks ever.”

Noctis finishes the thought for him as he yawns, handing Illyria off to Prompto and standing to pop his back.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey yourself, also dad.”

Noctis freezes and his expression is just too much, Prompto laughs so hard he snorts and his husband reaches out and thunks him on the shoulder for it as Regis looks insanely proud of his shit joke.

The noise must startle Azreal because he starts makes his crying noises again but Regis shifts him and rubs his back and he settles.

“Very funny. Both of you suck.”

“C’mon Noct, dad jokes are supposed to be our thing now too!”

“I made Gladio promise to ol’ Yeller me if I started making them.”

Regis clicked his tongue, “I told Clarus the same sort of thing when you were born Noct. Do I look like he followed through?”

Noctis just sticks his tongue out a little and grumbles about “fetching their bottles” and leaves.

Noctis’ voice is muffled from the back and Prompto turns toward it a little on instinct, relaxing back into his position, stomach to couch, when he catches himself straining to see his boyfriend. Regis sighs and Prompto focuses on him again, raising an eyebrow and offering a bright smile.

“What’s up?”

Regis shakes his head and waves a hand, dismissing the question with a distracted air around him even as he tilts his head. His face pinches and Prompto sits up, concerned and already leaning forward when Regis answers.

“It’s nothing, just a little pressure somewhere along the wall. Probably a group of daemons, they’re growing bolder...no matter. Did Noctis tell you what he wanted done?”

Prompto doubts very much that it’s no matter, but he’s not someone in a place to demand answers from the King, so he let’s it go. Smiling fondly he shrugs, “No, he just said he wanted me to come with him and he wanted you to approve it I guess? You know Noct…”

Regis smiles at that and nods, “Indeed I do...well as long as it’s not another Cup Noodle…” He shakes his head as though he’s exasperated but Prompto see’s the fondness for his son’s unwieldy personality underneath.

“Doubt it, he doesn’t want Gladio to think he’s kissing up too much!”

They laugh at that, stopping only when Noctis steps out from the curtained back area of the shop. He gives them a look, raising his eyebrows in question but with a bemused sort of air that just makes Prompto snort.  He doesn’t comment on it though, distracted by the new glint of metal.

“Dude!”

Regis sighs very quietly but nods his approval just the same, “You wanted us with you to see your new piercing?”

Noctis shrugs, lightly fingering the small hoop on the left side of his nose, it’s burnished silver and Prompto is surprised by how much he likes the way it looks.

“Sure...Dad can you come back here?”

Regis nods and follows Noctis out of sight, leaving Prompto staring after them with his mouth slightly open. He huffs and sinks back down on the couch, chewing the edge of his thumb slightly as he wonders what it is Noct isn’t sharing with him.

“What the hell?” He mutters quietly, not too concerned but curious. He sighs and rolls, nearly falling off as he flails to right himself. He stretches and groans, tossing an arm over his eyes and smiling to himself a little.

Noctis is only secretive when he’s trying to surprise him, or when he’s nervous and frankly, it’s pretty cute. He hears footsteps approaching again and let’s his arm flop over his head to stare up at Regis, who looks a bit smug.

“What?”

“Noctis wants you now, I suspect it will take some time, so I must be going. He’s chosen well Prompto, in many ways.”

The King winks at him and Prompto sits up quickly, head tilting as he asks, too loudly, “What’s going on? What d’you mean-what’s he chose? Regis!”

The man is already half out the door though and he waves a hand, grinning widely and getting into the car pulling to the curb while Prompto glares half-heartedly out. He watches the car pull away, sticking his tongue out at it and turning to where Noctis is hiding from him.

“FINE, don’t tell me. Rude.”

He shoves the curtain out of the way, a bubble of excitement and anticipation in his stomach as he makes his way to where Noct is bent together with a guy with long blonde hair. They’re talking quietly and quickly and Prompto rolls his eyes a little, dork.

“Hey Noct, you wanted me?”

Noctis turns to him, a little flushed and makes an odd face, nose twisting, and winces when it twinges his new piercing.

“Yeah, I uh-Prom, you don’t have to, but Zi and I came up with something and I’d like to get it with you?”

Prompto blinks and then he grins, a big spreading of his lips that hurts a little in its intensity. Noctis wants to get a tattoo with him.

“Yeah! Let me see!”

The artist turns then, raising a drawing that makes Prompto’s mouth go a little dry. One side of the paper shows a beautiful sun, delicate lines curving together and a wide burst of ray outward. It looks nothing like a lot of the bohemian style suns he’s seen before and he could easily imagine it in black lines on skin. It’s accompanied by an equally elegant moon, the sickle of it filled with the same braided lines as the sun.

They’re a nice pair and he smiles at Noctis.

“Nice, very nice.” His voice is a bit hoarse, because he gets it, the way Noctis is looking at him tells him so much.

Prompto can recall with perfect clarity, the soft murmur of Noctis voice just days ago, “You’re my sunlight Prom, the brightest spot in my life.” and his own reply, “That’s cheesy as fuck dude...but, I mean, you’re kinda like...the moon in the night, you know? You’re the only thing that guides me when it’s dark.”

He remembers the way Noctis looked, soft and open and in love, and the answering swell of feeling in his own chest. He also remembers the slight bruise on his hip from being shoved out of the bed and tackled, the silly wrestling match they’d gotten into and the accusation of being a “stereotypical cheese-lord”.

“I’ll get the moon?” He asks and Noctis nods, stepping close and reaching for his hand. He meets the gesture and squeezes his fingers, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend once, softly.

He’s sure his advisors are going to be highly displeased that he’s left, but he’ll be damned if he can’t spend a few hours with his son.

Noctis’ bedroom door opens and he turns with a smile to greet Noctis, only to fall quiet when he realizes it’s Prompto. Only in boxers, blonde hair messy and eyes closed as he feels his way into the kitchen, yawning widely.

Regis takes in the tattoos that mark Prompto’s body, appreciating the beauty of them and simultaneously using them to distract himself from the need to fist pump. He knew they would get around to it, but it’s gratifying to know he’s won his bet with Gladio and Ignis, who both swore it would take them far longer to stop dancing around physical intimacies.

Prompto lifts the coffee pot, prepared to fill it with water for a new brew and Regis watches his eyes slowly crack open, awareness slamming into him when he sees a warm, full pot in his hands. The pot slams down and Prompto whirls, because Ignis always makes tea and never coffee and who else would it possibly be? The gun manifests itself so quickly that Regis is impressed.

Prompto goes from defensive, ready to fight to protect himself and Noctis, to pale as a sheet and horrified, gun clattering to the ground and vanishing in his surprise.

He claps a hand over his mouth and gestures frantically with his free hand but Regis just laughs.

“It’s alright Prompto. I didn’t mean to frighten you and I’m glad you think so quickly on your feet.”

Prompto lowers his hands, cheeks burning, “Don’t tell Noct?”

Regis merely winks at him and sips his coffee, pushing himself to his feet and making a slight face, the pull of the wall is taxing today. He turns on the stovetop and smiles at Prompto, who is pouring himself some coffee and looking sheepish.

“Good to see the two of you enjoyed yourselves. I’m assuming  you bottomed, do you take tomatoes in your omelets?”

It’s highly amusing to watch Prompto turn the same color as the aforementioned fruit. “Uh..y-yeah. Tomatoes. Uh...no offense? It’s kinda weird to talk about that stuff with you?”

Regis shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes a little and the motion is so incredibly Noctis that Prompto just stares at him, finally clicking his boyfriend and the King together fully. It doesn’t make the question less awkward though and he sits down with his own mug, stirring in a bit of creamer.

Regis just works on the omelet and changes the subject, like he didn’t ask a super awkward question two second before.

“You’ve quite a number of tattoos-”

Prompto bites his lip, he knows that he does. He wasn’t sure if Regis was alright with them, even though Noctis has his share. Is the King going to admonish him for them? For making so many commitments while he’s still young? He worries his thumbnail, staring at the man’s shoulders and trying to think of something to preempt the judgement he’s certain to receive.

“I’d imagine it took a great deal of time for the larger ones on your hips and thighs?”

Prompto nods, fingering the rim of his brown mug and swallowing, “Yes...it probably seems like a waste of time but I-I needed them.”

Regis considers him, the curve of his shoulders, like he’s trying to protect himself from something, and sighs. He flips the omelet, sets down the spatula, and unbuttons the crisp black shirt he wears.

Prompto’s eyes are huge and he starts to stutter a question when Regis turns, allowing the shirt to slide off his arms as he reveals his back.

Stretching from shoulder to hip is a beautiful flower, Prompto’s not sure of the name but it’s familiar. Vibrant purple, yellow, and maroon flowers bloom along to swirling green that suggests leaves and stems and the shape, almost a trumpet but curving delicately back, is gentle.

There are small black handprints on either side of the flowers and curving words on his opposite shoulder.

“Gra Anois go Deo”

It’s beautiful and Prompto marvels at it, forgetting his uncertainty as he straightens up in his seat.

“Wow. How long did that take?”

Regis shrugs his shirt back on and smiles, checking the food.

“The Columbine’s were first, they took ten or so hours, but Noctis’ mother loved them. Noct’s handprints and the words came after she died...it’s gaelic for ‘love, now and forever.’”

Prompto feels his heart clench a little, especially at the sadness in Regis’ eyes, despite his soft smile. The King dishes up his food and Prompto accepts it with a grateful smile.

“Thanks! It looks really good and Noct couldn’t cook if...well if anything….His mom, when’s uh..when’s the anniversary?”

Regis clears his throat a little, “Talk to Noctis about it, let him tell you...and you’re right, he tried to make toast for me once, had to replace the wallpaper. What of yours, any special stories?”

Prompto realizes he’s asking about the tattoos he has and he just shrugs a bit, “I guess? Mostly designs I thought looked neat that reminded me what my strengths were, the fox and the skull remind me that life is short but full of beautiful things to be seen. The wolf and the guns...uh..that’s my loyalty and protectiveness to my friends, I guess? The words were to remind me of things…”

He trails off when he watches Regis pause to actually read the text and he shifts, wishing he’d grabbed a shirt when he got up.

The King is quiet so Prompto begins to eat, but is stopped by the light touch of Regis’ forefinger over the code print on his wrist, still uncovered after the night before.

“And this?”

Prompto lowers the fork, his throat growing tight as he looks down, drawing himself in again, making himself small and trying to think of a way to explain that won’t make Regis hate him. He squeezes his eyes shut, but figures he owes the man the truth.

“It’s not a tattoo...not like the others…”

Silence answers him and he doesn’t dare look at Noct’s dad. He just takes a breath and tries to push through the explanation.

“I’m...I was born...please don’t hate me. I was born in Niflheim, I don’t remember much, I got out when I was really small and whoever brought me here, left me pretty fast. I lived in an orphanage until I was thirteen, then I started working for under the table pay and managed to scrape together enough from that and some of the stuff you’ve got going to help youth in the city to live. There’s a house in my name, whoever brought me must’ve done it. I...I was supposed to be one of their soldiers. An MT, I’ve got...I’ve got…”

He can’t bring himself to say daemon blood, but it’s alright, he’s sure Regis understands.

Regis doesn’t reply and Prompto tries so hard to hold back the tears he can feel gathering, the egg tastes like ash on his tongue.

“I’m Sor-”

He’s cut off by warm arms, to broad to be Noctis’, wrapping around him and he opens his eyes to find the fine thread of Regis’ shirt swimming before his eyes.  He takes a moment and then he’s clenching the King’s shirt in his hands, crying onto Noctis’ dads shoulder with viscious shuddering gasps and Regis holds him tight.

“I’m assuming Noctis knows?” Prompto nods, sniffling.

“Then I have nothing to say on the matter, other than to offer you a very sincere apology for all that you’ve been through. You’re a wonderful young man Prompto.”

Prompto tries for a smile and a little laugh, “Well, see if you still think that when Ignis see’s what I’ve done to your shirt.”

There’s streaks from his tears and black marks from the left over eyeliner, but Regis just grins at him and very intentionally dips his finger in some leftover egg and smears it across the shirt.

“This one’s uncomfortable anyways. I’ve been trying to ruin it for ages. Ignis’ll get the marks out and deem it no longer worthy. He’ll give it to a charity shop and it’ll be someone else’s terribly uncomfortable problem.”