#ferrefic

Things had been going pretty great for Noctis for a few months. Three and a half, to be exact, but Noctis would never admit that he knew that to anyone except Prompto. Anyone else might tease him for it (especially Gladio), but Prompto was the reason things had been going so well for Noctis. Sure, he still had to spend much of his time being groomed to take over as king and the tensions with Niflheim continued to rise, but Noctis could kind of deal with all that now.

Having a best friend was pretty nice. Having a boyfriend was even better.

Prompto was a great boyfriend. They could still hang out like they used to before they started dating, still talked about the same things and messed around like before. But now Noctis could also hold Prompto’s hand whenever he wanted, or even kiss him. Prompto could cuddle up to him whenever he wanted. It was a series of small changes but it made their relationship feel unique; new but familiar.

It had only kept getting better as well. Prompto had always smiled easy before, but ever since they got together Noctis noticed it even more. It was like Prompto was just as happy with things as he was and that alone made him feel all warm inside.

Gladio had teased them at the beginning for being in the honeymoon phase, joking that they had known each other too long to be doing that all over again. Noctis knew he didn’t really mean it. But it was the truth - for the first month or so, Noctis had been riding high on their new relationship and having a boyfriend. Everything had felt different and it was like exploring something with the safety of knowing it was never going to backfire. Prompto had already made it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere.

That alone meant the world to Noctis.

But while that new and excited feeling had started to settle, it never seemed to fully go away. Prompto still had the same effect on Noctis as he did right at the start - the way he smiled never failed to make Noctis smile along. He still wanted to be around Prompto all the time; missed him greatly whenever he had to travel. In each place he went, no matter how political the intention, he always kept an eye out for a gift to bring back for Prompto.

(Prompto always told him not to worry with all that, but Noctis knew he kept every single one in a box in his room).

Noctis wasn’t sure what it was exactly that he was feeling when it came to Prompto, but he did know that he liked it, so that made it okay. It felt nice in an almost comforting way. Like everything in the world was right every time Prompto laughed.

He still kind of wished he knew what it was, though. He’d never felt like this about anyone else before.

Noctis had tried to ask Ignis about it, but he had been no help. He just gave Noctis a slightly knowing smile and told him to really think hard about what it could be. Like Noctis hadn’t already tried that.

It came to him before he’d fully realised it. There wasn’t any fanfare or lightbulb moment. It was just a regular movie night, curled up on the sofa next to Prompto while they made fun of some old horror movie. Prompto had just looked so comfortable and happy, like there was nowhere else he would rather be than watching a dumb movie with Noctis.

It didn’t even have any chocobos in it, but Prompto was smiling anyway.

And Noctis just said it without even thinking about it. Because it was true, or because he just had to let Prompto know, he wasn’t sure.

“I love you, you know,”

That was what the feeling was. Noctis was in love with Prompto. The realisation didn’t scare him, it just settled in with Noctis’ mind. Like it was obvious - of course he loved Prompto. No wonder Ignis had been so cryptic about it when it was right in front of Noctis’ face.

Prompto was looking at him with wide, slightly glassy eyes, the movie all but forgotten. It kind of ruined the moment when there were really fake and frankly over the top screams in the background, but there was a faint dusting of pink across Prompto’s cheeks and his face was lighting up in such a captivating way that Noctis didn’t care.

“Dude, really?”

“Yeah, of course I do,”

Prompto’s face broke into a smile that Noctis couldn’t stop himself from returning even if he wanted to. He just looked so happy, like Noctis had given him an amazing present. All he did was tell the truth.

He did love Prompto.

But Prompto just settled himself against Noctis again, curled up close to him and humming contentedly. Noctis just cuddled up back to him again.

“I love you too, Noct,”

Oh. Now he understood why Prompto looked like that. There was never going to be anything better than hearing Prompto say that. He would never be able to get over it.

Denki wasn’t heartbroken to see the couple who lived downstairs go. They’d been on the rocks for months now and always seemed to choose ass o’clock in the morning to argue with each other. He had actually gotten used to sleeping with people screaming at each other as background noise somewhere along the way.

So yeah, he had never really spoken to them and he was looking forward to some peace.

Except someone new was moving in.

He had been watching the moving lorry from outside his window for a while, trying to get an idea of what the new person was like without being outright nosy. It had been a pretty useless exercise, since everything was in boxes and Denki was just slightly too high up to read what was on them. But it seemed to be just the one, so that was good. No more couple arguments (he hoped).

He also couldn’t quite figure out which of the guys he saw moving boxes into the building was his new neighbour. At this rate, he was just going to have to bite the bullet and go check it out for himself. Not like he had any other plans for the day - it was his day off and far too hot to do much more than sit inside and thank god for air conditioning.

Besides, Denki always tried to be nice - he had made an effort to introduce himself to the other couple but they were kind of weird and just stared at him until he left. Nothing could be more awkward than that, so there was no harm in saying hi.

Once the movers were gone, obviously. Getting in the way wasn’t going to make the best first impression and Denki liked to actually be friends with people.

So a few hours later he had managed to peel himself away long enough to have a shower and make himself as presentable as he planned on being on a lazy day. A part of him wondered if he should get something to give the new guy, but that meant outside and outside was still far too hot than it had any right to be.

So he jogged downstairs, having actually grabbed his wallet on the way out since he remembered he did actually have to go outside and get things like food. Preferably food that didn’t require much oven use. It was a pretty solid plan for the afternoon; say hello, brave the outside for as little time as possible and retreat back to where there was air con.

The door to the apartment downstairs was being held open by some boxes, so Denki took a quick look at what he could see while he knocked on the door. The layout was pretty much the same as his own, except there were still boxes everywhere. Some stuff was out - mostly furniture too big to be packed up, including a punching bag in the corner. Huh.

It only took a few seconds for the mystery neighbour to emerge from what Denki guessed from his own apartment was the bedroom. He was probably a bit taller than Denki, with red hair tied back in a small ponytail and...no shirt on. Black shorts, yes, but no shirt. Which made sense - the guy had just moved his stuff in and it was a super hot day and if Denki looked like that he probably wouldn’t wear a lot of shirts too.

Because damn, the guy was ripped. He looked like he could bench press Denki easily.

From that alone, he almost made a snap decision. Work out stuff, very buff, no shirt - he was one of those guys, who lived in the gym and made sexist jokes and always had to say ‘no homo’. He almost made it, except the guy offered Denki the most genuine looking smile he’d ever seen and despite his sharp teeth, he looked friendly.

His new neighbour quickly hurried to the door and offered his hand, still smiling and using his other hand to push some of his hair out of his face.

“Sorry! Didn’t hear at first, got too caught up,” Denki was kind of in awe because holy shit, this guy was gorgeous. He shook himself into taking the outstretched hand and shaking it just in time to not look like a total weirdo. He offered a smile in return and hoped it didn’t look weird because he was trying really hard not to outright stare at this guy’s chest and arms. Fuck, he had big arms.

“No problem! I, uh, I just wanted to say hi! I’m Denki, I uh, I live upstairs,” Great. Real smooth. Stammering like he forgot where he lived. All because this guy had such kind eyes that Denki actually felt guilty for even making an assumption about him.

“Wow, thanks, man! Nice to know someone new already,” And he started laughing and Denki thought he might actually turn into a puddle of goo. “I’m Eijirou, I just moved from across town,”

Cool, now when Denki told his friends he could at least say he knew the guy’s name. He could go on about how Eijirou who lives downstairs has really big arms that Denki was already kind of fixated on and sharp teeth but that only make Denki kind of curious.

“Oh, cool! Well, uh, yeah, if you ever need anything, I’m just upstairs! Number 6!” He was stammering again and sure he was going as red as Eijirou’s hair and as much as he wanted to stay here and talk more and learn everything about him, Denki still had stuff to get and would probably just embarrass himself.

It wasn’t his fault; he hadn’t expected the new guy to be this hot. At least he was still smiling like Denki wasn’t making an idiot of himself.

“Same goes, dude. Whatever you need, you know where I am now,” Eijirou was laughing again and he barely knew Denki but he was already offering to be there if he needed something and Denki felt slightly enamoured already. He managed a laugh of his own, caught up in the energy Eijirou had around him. He just seemed like someone Denki could trust, which was a dumb thing to think of a guy he just met but still. Denki wasn’t known for his intelligence, but he was known for going with his gut.

His gut did something weird whenever Eijirou smiled or did crossed his arms across his chest.

“Cool, well, uh, I’ve got to head out, but nice to meet you!”

“You too, man, don’t burn out there!” He was so fucking nice, Denki kind of just wanted to grab his face and shout it at him.

He nodded as he turned to go, but felt a final fit of bravery take over him before Eijirou could go out of earshot. He decided to ride it before he could let it pass and regret potentially missing his chance.

“Hey, do you want to go grab some drinks later? I know a really great bar not far from here,” Maybe this was where Eijirou proved his first impression right, and Denki could be crushed that he had no chance with his hot new neighbour.

Even though it was probably too soon and kind of risky to be thinking about having a chance with a guy who lived downstairs.

But Eijirou just gave another winning smile, face lighting up like Denki had offered him money or something.

“Sure, sounds great! I promise to actually be dressed this time,” He laughed, giving Denki a small wave before heading back into his apartment.

“Dude, I’m telling you - it’s not Pixar,”

“Of course its fucking Pixar, who else would it be?” 

Bakugo and Kirishima slowly ambled along the street back home, continuing their ongoing argument over which studio produced A Bug’s Life.

“Nah, it was before Pixar’s time, man. It was Disney or Dreamworks or something,”

“It was Disney and Pixar you idiot, how do you not know Pixar did A Bug’s Life?”

“Because they didn’t,”

Kirishima couldn’t help but grin as Bakugo groaned in frustration and annoyance. They hadn’t been out long so he had left his phone behind and Bakugo’s had died a few minutes ago, leaving them without a way to check the answer.

The first thing Bakugo did when they got back was march to his room and bring out his laptop, angrily typing something into it. Kirishima’s grin stayed firmly in place. Most people would argue that Bakugo still needed to work on his temper, but Kirishima honestly thought it was cute that he got this passionate about something as small as knowing which studio produced a movie.

He even continued to smile when Bakugo cheered in victory, almost running into Momo as he went to shove his laptop screen in Kirishima’s face.

“See? Says it right there - Pixar. I fucking told you so,”

Kirishima made a show of leaning forward and inspecting the screen even though he could see where it said ‘Pixar’. It was just fun to drag this out a little longer.

“Huh, guess you were right,”

Bakugo sighed in relief as the argument finally came to a close, snapping his laptop shut and moving back to the sofa to throw himself down again.

“Of course I was, everyone knows Pixar made it,”

Kirishima took his time wandering over and settling himself down next to Bakugo, not all that broken up about having lost this argument.

“Well, what do you want for being right?” 

Kirishima raised his eyebrows in a slightly suggestive manner and couldn’t help but laugh at the slightly shocked expression on Bakugo’s face. It was like he hadn’t at all expected it even though Kirishima said it every time he got an argument right. 

“Don’t be gross, there are people here,”

It was fair to say that their class had been given a really tough run of things. By the end of their first year alone each of them had been exposed to actual villains enough to know what that gap between being a hero in theory and being one for certain looked like. Some had more experience than others - ones like Midoriya, or Todoroki, or Iida, or…

Or Kirishima.

Kirishima, who never backed down from a fight when someone was in danger. Kirishima, who would throw himself into the firing line a thousand times over to save a single life. Kirishima, who faced villains with hard-eyed determination and the rest of the world with a cheerful smile.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was gritting his teeth against the pain he must definitely be in, attempting to keep his quirk activated in case another attack came.

Denki may not have had as much experience with life or death situations as the friends he had thought of, but he definitely had some. He, like the rest of them, had only been fifteen when he first came upon villains who were prepared to kill him for what they wanted.

Being fifteen years old and staring down his potential death had cemented his desire to be stronger, so he could face much more and be a strong and reliable hero.

He thought he was closer to it at nineteen. He was a year out of U.A. and a sidekick ready to start his hero career.

Kirishima had been thrilled to get started - his idol had started out as a sidekick like the rest of them. He had been so excited, deep down still that kid who adored Crimson Riot enough to take inspiration from him for his own hero name and approach.

They both thought they were getting the hang of this. They would be heroes in their own right in no time, taking the world by storm.

Except Denki couldn’t help him when it had really counted and now Kirishima couldn’t stop the bleeding.

It wasn’t like his hair; it was darker, thicker. The sight of it made Denki sick to his stomach because there shouldn’t be so much, not outside like this.

There was still a fight going on and there were still villains to take down and apprehend. But his whole world had narrowed down to the other boy on the broken stone floor who still struggled to stand, one hand clasped uselessly over his abdomen.

No one had expected the ambush - all intel had told them the place wasn’t rigged. Kirishima hadn’t been able to activate his quirk in time to protect himself from the damage. He had barely managed it in time to stop himself from being blown to pieces.

He had managed to move in time to shield Denki from the worst of the blast.

The sight of Kirishima only making it to his knees before giving out again spurred Denki into action, immediately running to his side and grabbing him before Kirishima could completely collapse to the floor. Denki didn’t lower him down, instead keeping Kirishima close to him as if he could keep the blood back where it should be.

It wasn’t working; he could feel it soaking through his own clothes, warm and sticky. The wound was too large; Kirishima couldn’t cover it all with his hand and even the glimpses Denki had gotten had made him feel like he was going to throw up. No one should have that much of them exposed, that skin and muscle and viscera should never see the light of day. But there it was, leaking from between Kirishima’s fingers and seeping into Denki’s clothes.

There were no healers around. Denki realised, almost absently, that this may very well be it - Kirishima may bleed out in the jagged remains of a battle he couldn’t win.

Fuck, no. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were only nineteen; they were supposed to become proper heroes together. They were supposed to do so much together, everything that they had talked about back in high school.

He didn’t know about forever; Denki liked to think that this was going to last because he really liked (loved) Kirishima (he loved him), but maybe that never even factored in because here they were pretending like he had a fighting chance and of everyone in the world Kirishima was so far down on the list who deserved to die.

“Dude, c’mon, you’re too young to be pulling this,” Because Kirishima had relaxed the hand against his abdomen, almost his whole forearm slick and sticky with blood.

“Nah, I think...I thought...shit, I can’t get up,”

“So I’ll carry you, but you gotta help me out here,” Denki’s voice was becoming slightly more desperate with each sign that Kirishima was giving up. That wasn’t like him, but neither was dying and this was so unfair.

Kirishima shook his head, attempting a small smile but his whole body was shaking with the effort of being alive and his eyes kept going out of focus, so Denki took everything into his own hands.

Because he was a hero, and heroes saved people. Because he did love Kirishima; had done since they were just stupid teenagers and he refused for everything to end out here.

He tried to move Kirishima upright, tried to keep something over his stomach partly so Denki wouldn’t have to see it, but Kirishima wasn’t co-operating. He was just getting paler and the air around them was thick with the stench of blood, so thick Denki swore it was clogging his throat.

And he wasn’t Midoriya, who always seemed to know how to skew the odds in his favour even just a little. He wasn’t one of the many others who could come up with plans in any situation, and he had no one to go to who could fix this.

It was an occupational hazard with being a hero. Each time you risked not coming out alive. During the height of All Might’s career, people seemed to have forgotten that.

He had forgotten it - had just assumed if it had to happen, it would happen to someone else. Not him. Not Kirishima.

“H-hey...at least...at least I got to save you, right?”

“Don’t do this,”

Kirishima was gasping now, like getting air into his lungs was the hardest thing he had to do. He was almost a dead weight in Denki’s arms and Kirishima had always been mostly muscle. It weighed more; would have made him difficult to move even if Denki had somewhere to take him.

“You’ll be okay,”

“What the hell makes you think that?!” Denki was fuming at the thought that he was going to be fine after this, like he could just walk away and forget everything they had or the way Kirishima died in his fucking arms.

“You...you’re strong, y’know? So you’ll be...okay…” The gasping became so hard that Kirishima stopped talking and all Denki could do was hold him through it, whispering broken affections so that at least his last words to Kirishima wouldn’t have been said in anger. He’d never forgive himself.

He barely managed to avoid throwing up when the body in his arms convulsed, but he couldn’t bear to watch it. This wasn’t how he wanted to remember Kirishima. He wanted to remember the bright, upbeat boy with an infectious smile and a can-do attitude.

He couldn’t hold the tears back anymore and frankly didn’t care what anyone thought at that moment. He didn’t care that he had all but abandoned the fight still going on.

Because this was how they ended. No amount of will or determination had kept Kirishima alive. Nothing he did even helped.

Sometimes, Prompto had bad days. Days where he couldn’tbring his usual cheer and optimism to the group. Days where he would flinchaway from his own reflection and the world seemed to be filtered in through afog – distant and blurry.

But without his peppy personality, what else could he bringto the group? Noctis was the reason they were all there and he was the reasonPrompto had the life he did now, instead of being alone and lost. Ignis hadeverything planned and put together and besides, he was an amazing cook. Gladiocould keep everyone safe and he knew how to set up camp. All Prompto had onthem was that he could keep his head up when no one else could.

So what happened when he couldn’t even do that?

They could dress him up as much as they wanted, but he wasalways going to be that lonely, awkward, fat kid whose only friend was hiscamera. No amount of hard work or crownsguard uniform could ever fix that.Prompto was always going to be who he was – clingy, annoying, always ramblingabout something no one else cared about.

It was nice enough that Ignis and Gladio tolerated him, evenif he suspected it was more for Noctis’ benefit than his own.

Some days, he couldn’t understand what Noctis saw in him.Something must have made Noctis think Prompto was worth his time and effort,but Prompto was never sure what it was. Sure, they liked the same shows andmovies and video games. But Noctis liked to sleep in where Prompto couldn’tremember the last time he was still in bed past 10AM. Noctis could maintain acool and aloof image where Prompto wore his heart on his damn sleeve.

Noctis was important and perfect, and Prompto was just somenobody. Some failed experiment smuggled in to taint everything he touched withwho and what he was. The powers that be let him live, but some days that didn’tfeel like mercy.

With how easily he fucked everything up, with a secret thatcould destroy everything he had, it very often felt like a curse.

A part of Prompto always expected it – that one morning hewould wake up to everything gone and a note written in neat, cursivehandwriting telling him he was just too much of a liability and they had to lethim go.

He would be crushed; he would have nothing left to live for.

He wouldn’t blame them for a second.

They had been together for years without him and they wouldbe able to do it again. Just like that, Prompto would be an already fadingmemory. One they would probably speak about with regret that they let it go onthat long.

But now Insomnia has fallen and the pressure is more thanany of them have ever needed to cope with, so Prompto can do something. He cansmile when no one else will. He can laugh enough for all of them.

No matter how forced it may be, it’s what he has to do. Theyhave bigger issues than his and he learned to deal with his own head a longtime ago, when there was no one to support him through the fog.

He was a little out of practice but he could get back intothe swing of it. For the sake of the guys who made up his whole world, he couldremember to rely on himself again.

*

Prompto kept it up for about a week, maybe. Fighting throughbleary eyes when he hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, keeping a smileplastered to his face any time anyone looked at him, responding to anythingthat sounded like a cue as if on autopilot.

He couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror now. Hehated seeing all the reminders of how imperfect he was. He didn’t dare look atthe others either, for fear of remembering what he was comparing himself to.

What he had to compare to, if he wanted to be a part ofthem.

He had tried his best, but the nagging feeling that he wasstill not doing enough and that any day now they would realise he was justanother on their list of burdens wouldn’t leave him be. His brain had latchedonto every little mistake he had made that day and screamed it back at himuntil his thoughts became a laundry list of fuck ups.

You missed that shot.

You lagged behind.

You ran too far ahead,Iggy shouldn’t have to be looking out for you.

Everyone had to stopso you could take pictures. Selfish.

He thought that when Ignis said he wanted to go to themarket after they all settled into a hotel for the night that he had hischance. Gladio would go with him because he always liked walking in theevenings and Noctis would take the opportunity for a nap before dinner.

Perfect. Prompto could just say he wanted to clean up, hide inthe shower for a little while and pull himself together. No one needed to know.

He didn’t pull himself together.

He barely managed to actually wash himself, but at leastthen he wouldn’t have to worry about getting everything physically dirty. Inthe end he had sat under the water for at least ten minutes, trying not to cryin case Noctis heard.

They had bigger problems than this, they really did.

Noctis and Gladio had both lost their fathers. Their homewas in ruins. The Empire wanted them dead.

Prompto still couldn’t keep himself together.

He hoped Noctis would be asleep when he eventually got out (don’t steam the room out, it’ll makeeveryone uncomfortable) but instead he was lying on the bed, wide awake,doing something on his phone.

It took a second for Prompto to remember he needed to smile.It was a second long enough for Noctis to notice something was wrong. He tiltedhis head slightly and Prompto could see the question forming already.

“You okay, dude?” No, not really. And he definitely wasn’tprepared for anyone to ask if he was – they all had so much to worry about. Hedidn’t expect anyone to notice the half-seconds and private moments where helet the misery slip out. He had been counting on it, in fact.

Prompto was a royal retainer and a grown ass man, he couldlook after himself and his stupid head.

So when he replied it came out a little watery, but he stillmanaged a “Yeah, I needed that!”

Noctis didn’t seem convinced.

“What’s up?”

Prompto shook his head. No, he wasn’t doing this. Not toNoctis, who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Nothing, just beat, dude,” He mimicked Noctis, sitting onthe bed and taking his phone out. “Can’t wait for dinner, ‘m starving.”

He was so focused on staring blankly at his screen that hehadn’t noticed Noctis come over until he felt another body against his own. Helooked up to find Noctis right against his side, eyes questioning.

“Seriously, you’ve been weird all week. What’s up?” So hehad noticed. Prompto had been bottling up his insecurities since he was a kidand he was still no good at it. That sounded about right for him.

He knew if he just told Noctis the questions would stop andthe worry would go from his face, but Noctis was caring enough that he wouldjust add Prompto to his list of things to be concerned about. They weresupposed to be best friends; Prompto couldn’t do that to him. So he shook hishead again.

“Seriously, just been tired. We’ve been doing hunts like,all week, remember?” It was a flimsy excuse – they had actually taken a day offbetween two hunts earlier in the week. It was also the only excuse Promptocould think of on short notice. He just wanted Noctis to drop it so he could goback to trying harder to seem like his usual self.

What if this was his usual self now? Prompto would lose theonly reason they kept him around. They’d drop him in a heartbeat.

He was so busy trying to picture what he would be withoutthe guys that he didn’t notice Noctis calling him until a hand waved in frontof his face.

Great, now Noctis looked super worried. That was the exactthing that Prompto had been trying to avoid. Now he had to get him to stoptalking about it before Ignis and Gladio got back or they would want answerstoo. Prompto knew he was living on borrowed time with them, but he didn’t wantto drop reasons to let him go right into their laps.

“Prom. Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“No.” He didn’t even realise he’d said it. His brain hadn’tokayed it – his brain wasn’t giving anything the go ahead.

Noctis had never seen him like this before; he couldn’t now.Not now.

“What? Why? What’s happening?” Noctis’ voice was starting totake on a panicked edge and it made Prompto want to throw himself out of thenearest window.

Noctis’ arm was around his shoulders now and no, this isn’twhat Prompto wanted. He didn’t want Noctis to be comforting him. He should becomforting Noctis.

He could still do this; he could still get himself under controland convince Noctis this was nothing to worry about. He could do it all beforethe others got back and no one would know he was falling apart at the seams.

He could definitely do it if he could get himself to stopcrying. Because that had happened at some point and now Prompto couldn’t stopit. He didn’t dare look at Noctis now – he didn’t want to see what this wasdoing to him.

He didn’t really have that option for long before Noctis washugging him properly, stroking one hand through his hair while the other slowlyrubbed his back. He couldn’t entirely make out what Noctis was saying to him inbetween the little shushing noises but he was sure it was meant to becomforting.

Prompto hated himself for putting Noctis in this position.He hated that Noctis was now definitely concerned. Because Noctis was a kindperson and didn’t have the sense to walk away from someone who was clearly alost cause.

Instead he just sat there with him, stroking his hair andrubbing his back and softly telling him that everything was going to be okayuntil the tears stopped. Noctis was the best person Prompto had ever met and hedidn’t deserve his attention, let alone his friendship. Noctis deserved so muchbetter.

“That’s not true.” Noctis spoke firmly and it took Prompto amoment to realise that he had said that out loud.

He felt Noctis pull back and for another moment Promptothought this was it – Noctis was finally walking away. He should have known itwas coming, but it still hurt.

Noctis shifted his hands to Prompto’s arms and held themthere, firm and warm. He looked Prompto in the eye and while there was stillconcern in his face, there was also a sternness that reminded Prompto of Ignis.

“You’re my best friend, and that’s not gonna change. I don’twant that to change. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” Noctis’ facesoftened slightly and Prompto saw some of the tension disappear. He hadn’t evenrealised how tense Noctis had been until it was gone. Some friend he was being.

“You can be not okay too, Prom.”

He hadn’t realised that he had been waiting for some kind ofpermission, but now that it was there Prompto didn’t want it.

“I want to be okay, for you.”

“You’re always trying to be okay with everything. No oneexpects you to be, it’s not fair on you.”

Of course it was fair – what else did Prompto have? Someawkward jokes and semi-decent aim? That wasn’t enough.

“Prom, look at me.” He hadn’t realised he had looked awayfrom Noctis, but there was something sad in his eyes when Prompto looked back. Itmade him feel slightly sick.

“You’re doing okay. You’re doing great. Just don’t…don’t betoo hard on yourself. You can’t let everyone else have bad days without lettingyourself have a few.” The words sounded slightly Ignis-like, and Promptowondered if he and Noctis had ever had this conversation.

The thought was slightly heart breaking.

Still, he was slightly surprised at how much Noctis hadpicked up on. Prompto used to joke about how oblivious he could be.

It turned out Noctis noticed a lot, when he cared enough topay attention.

“Promise me, yeah? That you’ll go easy on yourself?” Noctisplayfully ruffled his hair, a gentle smile forming on his lips. “Can’t haveanyone talking about my best friend like that, right?”

It brought a small laugh from Prompto. He couldn’t promiseNoctis anything – they hadn’t even scratched the surface of what was going onin Prompto’s head and nothing was going to change overnight. Noctis was goingto want to keep talking about it, but for now Prompto was grateful that he wasn’tpushing. What they had managed had exhausted him.

He would probably be asleep before Ignis finished dinner.

“I can, uh…I can try? I guess?” He shrugged, but for nowNoctis seemed satisfied with his answer and he nodded.

“All I’m asking.”

Prompto still didn’t understand what Noctis saw in him. Whyhe was prepared to put in the time and effort for someone as dime a dozen as him.He didn’t know why Noctis chose him out of everyone else he had ever met.