Chapter Text
“Morning!” Prompto calls out as he barges into Noct’s room like he owns the place. It’s way, way too early for anyone to be that cheerful, but Noct’s kind of used to it by now. He even manages to grunt in response, which he figures is a pretty impressive effort.
“Dude, you’re still in bed?” Prompto says. Noct puts the pillow over his head and tunes out the sound of Prompto clattering around the place. He’s almost back to sleep when suddenly someone plucks the pillow away, letting in accursed daylight. Not only has Prompto stolen his pillow, he’s also opened the blinds. Who does that, seriously?
“Is Ignis coming over soon?” Prompto asks.
Noct – busy trying to shield his eyes from the blinding evil that Prompto has brought into his life – doesn’t answer the question. In fact, he doesn’t really understand it. Or anything. Why is he awake? Why is he alive? Why is Prompto so damn happy all the time?
Prompto shakes his shoulder. “Noc-tis,” he sings. “Is Iggy gonna be here, or what?”
“Uh – yeah,” Noct says. “He’s usually here to make brunch on Saturdays.” He’s pretty sure Prompto should already know this, but whatever.
“Yessss,” Prompto says. Noct sighs and gives up on fighting the inevitable. He opens one eye.
Prompto’s sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed. In his lap is a colourful box.
“What’s that?” Noct asks.
Prompto beams. “It’s a Rotato™,” he says.
“A... what?” Noct says.
“A Rotato™!” Prompto says. “It peels stuff. Like, potatoes and stuff. I saw it advertised on the Shopping Channel a couple of days ago, and man, it can basically do so much cool stuff. So I thought it’d be perfect for Iggy, you know. Because he cooks, and stuff.”
Noct opens his other eye. He frowns at Prompto. “Peels stuff?” he says. “So it’s like – a knife?”
“No way!” Prompto says. “This is way cooler. Like, super high-tech. The ad was amazing. Iggy’s gonna love it.” He hugs the box to his chest and grins at nothing, then at Noct. “Right?”
Noct wants to tell him that he doesn’t think Ignis will love anything that has ™ in its name. And he wants to ask him why he’s buying Ignis presents in the first place. But Prompto looks so happy, and it’s honestly just too early in the morning to deal with any of this.
“Sure,” he says, and pulls the covers over his head.
~
By the time Ignis arrives, Noct has more or less managed to extract himself from the bed. Well, extract himself is maybe a bit of an overstatement, since Prompto was definitely doing a lot of the running on the whole extraction operation. Not that Prompto isn’t usually upbeat, but he’s practically bouncing off the walls this morning. Noct loves Prompto, but he really could do with him being a little less Prompto right now.
“Highness,” Ignis says, looking surprised to see him. Or maybe just surprised to see him out of bed before midday. “Prompto. I’m glad you’re here, I thought I’d try something new today.”
Prompto bounces to his feet and throws a ridiculous salute. “Always happy to be of service,” he says, beaming.
Ignis looks a little taken aback by the enthusiasm of Prompto’s response. Noct decides to be extra unenthusiastic just to balance out the universe.
“I hope your something new doesn’t have vegetables in it,” he says.
Ignis sighs heavily, and Noct congratulates himself on a job well done. He yawns and scrolls through his phone, not really reading anything, just – scrolling. Mornings are hard. He’s sort of aware of Ignis making noise in the kitchen, and Prompto’s disappeared off somewhere, which means–
–Noct remembers about Prompto’s gift for Ignis just as Prompto reappears out of the bedroom with his hands behind his back and a bright smile plastered on his face. Noct sits up a little. He’s not sure exactly what’s going to happen when Prompto gives Ignis his – fancy knife replacement, but he hopes Ignis isn’t too hard on the guy. He should have told him just to can the idea, instead of taking the coward’s way out and agreeing with him. Shit, Noct’s a douche sometimes.
“So, uh,” Prompto says, approaching the counter, where Ignis is peeling a carrot, for all the world like he’s planning to put it into Noct’s food. Ugh, come on, Ignis.
“Hm?” Ignis says, glancing up.
“I see you’re peeling vegetables,” Prompto says.
Ignis looks confused for a moment, then clearly recognises that something is up. He lowers his paring knife. “How very observant of you,” he says.
Prompto beams. “Then have I got the product for you!” he says, and Noct can almost hear the cheesy Shopping Channel fake-tan cadence in his voice. He brings the box out from behind his back and presents it to Ignis. “Ta-da!”
Ignis frowns at the box, then frowns at Prompto. “What is that?” he asks, sounding confused.
“It’s a Rotato™!” Prompto says. “It does the peeling so you don’t have to. It can peel anything! It’s super high-tech!”
He holds it out towards Ignis with a hopeful smile. Ignis, still holding a carrot in one hand and his paring knife in the other, makes no move to take it. Prompto shakes the box slightly.
“Go on,” he says. “It’s for you.”
Ignis stares at him for a long moment, and Noct braces himself. Then Ignis sets down his knife and wipes his hand on his apron. He reaches out and takes the box. He stares at it for a moment, lip starting to curl. Noct resists the temptation to close his eyes.
“You bought this for me?” Ignis asks.
“Yep!” Prompto says. “Just for you. I saw the ad and I just knew it’d be perfect for you!”
Ignis opens his mouth. And closes it again. He stares at the box in his hands. The air feels weirdly itchy, like before a thunderstorm, and Noct has to restrain himself from shouting something nonsensical just to relieve the tension.
Then Ignis looks up at Prompto. “What a – thoughtful gift,” he says.
Noct stares.
Prompto, somehow, manages to smile even wider. Noct starts to worry he might do himself an injury. “You can use it to make brunch!” Prompto says.
Ignis’ face takes on a pained expression. “Ah. Well, I’m afraid I have largely finished peeling vegetables for brunch,” he says. He puts the Rotato™ down gingerly on the counter, as if afraid it might explode, then wipes his hands on his apron again.
“Oh. Well, next time!” Prompto says. “It’s got a warranty, so feel free to really put it through its paces. And it juices lemons, too!”
“Does it?” Ignis says. He sounds faint. Noct feels kind of the same way. “How – ingenious.”
“I knew you’d love it!” Prompto says. He turns and comes over to the couch, flinging himself down beside Noct. He looks stupidly delighted. “I knew he’d love it,” he says.
“Uh,” Noct says. He’s looking at Ignis, who’s staring at the Rotato™ with a hand pressed to his mouth. He doesn’t understand why Ignis didn’t just – tell Prompto what he really thought of it. Brutal honesty is generally one of Ignis’ strong suits.
Prompto jumps up again. “Can I help with brunch?” he asks, exuding eagerness from every pore.
Ignis’ shoulders relax. “Certainly,” he says. “I always appreciate a helping hand.”
He throws Noct a pointed glance, and Noct shrugs. Helping with brunch is not his thing. Anyway, he’s too busy trying to figure out who replaced Ignis with a person who would accept a – a Rotato™ without immediately breaking it or throwing it out of the window.
Prompto starts humming as he chops carrots. Ignis is definitely planning to put them in Noct’s food, Noct can feel it. And Prompto’s been being even more obnoxiously cheerful than usual and Ignis has basically been replaced by a pod person.
Noct groans and throws his arm over his eyes. This. This is why it’s not worth getting up before midday.
~
After that, Noct doesn’t think about the Rotato™ for a few days. Not, in fact, until the following Tuesday, when he’s hanging out on the couch playing King’s Knight while Ignis cooks dinner. Gladio’s validating his manhood by doing one-armed push-ups on the floor, and Prompto’s not there because he’s got this part-time job during which he is definitely not supposed to be playing King’s Knight with Noct (but he is, because hey, royal decree, or whatever). So everything’s pretty normal until Ignis suddenly swears. Not that Ignis never swears, but when he does, you know it’s time to sit up and pay attention.
Noct sits up and pays attention. Gladio pauses, arm fully extended, and looks up.
“Iggy?” he says. “Problem?”
Ignis is standing behind the counter with an expression of pure loathing on his face. “This – device,” he says. “I suspect it’s cursed. And if it is not cursed, then I intend to curse it. Very thoroughly and very soon.”
Gladio stands up, frowning, and walks around the counter so he can see what Ignis is looking at. Noct doesn’t bother: he already knows what it is.
“What the hell’s that?” Gladio asks.
“It’s a Rotato,” Noct says. “Tee em.”
“A – what?” Gladio looks up at him. “A potato?”
“Rotato,” Ignis says, biting the word off with a vicious snap of his teeth. “Some mid-level marketing executive’s amateurish idea of a pun, as if the infernal machine weren’t bad enough by itself.”
Gladio blinks at Ignis in bewilderment. It’s fair: the last time Ignis was this infuriated was when a concerned citizens’ group suggested that Ebony should be reclassified as a Schedule C narcotic. Ignis, though, is just glaring at the Rotato™, so Gladio looks over at Noct.
“You got any clue what this is about?” he asks.
Noct shrugs. “It’s supposed to peel stuff,” he says. “Vegetables and stuff.” He makes a face, just in case Ignis is watching.
“What – like a knife?” Gladio asks.
Unfortunately, this causes Ignis to lose his shit.
“A knife is a perfectly good implement with multiple functions and a long and honourable history!” he says. He’s actually holding a knife, as it turns out, and he waves it in the air as if to demonstrate one or more of the multiple functions, which has Gladio backing away quickly. “This – item is not fit to be compared to a knife.”
“Take a chill pill, Specs,” Noct says (but only because he’s well out of reach of the knife). “Just don’t use it if you don’t want to.” He’s honestly not at all sure why Ignis is trying to use it in the first place. Although he always has been a bit of a masochist.
“Right,” Gladio says, sounding a little shaken. “Just use a knife. Why the hell do you even have a – Gotato, anyway?”
“Rotato,” Ignis says under his breath, like it’s the filthiest word imaginable.
“Prompto gave it to him,” Noct says. “He saw it on TV.”
Gladio stares, then smirks. “He doesn’t know you very well, does he?” he says.
“He knows me perfectly well!” Ignis snaps. “It was a very kind thought!”
Gladio raises his eyebrows and looks at Noct. Noct shrugs again. Ignis is really weird about the Rotato™. He doesn’t get it any more than Gladio does.
“OK, Iggy,” Gladio says, using a weird soothing voice that Noct’s only heard before when Iris is having a mega-tantrum. “Why don’t we just put the weird peeler thing away and you can just use a knife, all right?”
He picks up the Rotato™ and stuffs it in a cupboard, closing the door firmly. Then he straightens up and turns around, standing in front of the cupboard like he thinks his body might shield Ignis from any harmful Rotato Rays™.
“OK?” Gladio says.
Ignis glares at him – no, through him – for a couple of seconds. Then he sighs. “Well, perhaps I need to read the instruction manual again,” he mutters. He picks up a potato and starts peeling it, looking – almost normal.
Noct shakes his head. Who reads instruction manuals, seriously? And why would Ignis want to try again with the thing that just almost converted him into homicidal maniac? Ignis is super weird lately for some reason.
But apparently peeling potatoes is, like, Ignis’ zen or something, because he doesn’t shout at anyone for the rest of the evening and even eventually stops glaring at nothing. Noct assumes that’s the end of it, and that the Rotato™ will be quietly trashed while Prompto isn’t looking. But the next time Noct opens that cupboard (accidentally, while looking for snacks), the Rotato™ is still there, and someone’s cleaned it very carefully.
Two days later, Gladio stubs his toe on a barbell, and growls, “Ah! Fucking – Rotato.” So something useful does come out of the whole Rotato™ incident, after all.
~
~
It’s a beautiful day in Insomnia, and unfortunately Ignis is at Noct’s apartment, which means all the blinds are open and the sun’s streaming in. Noct had been pretty happy before Ignis arrived, sitting in the dark looking at his phone, but apparently it’s ‘deleterious to his mental health’ and also (according to Gladio) makes him an ‘emo loser’. To be honest, Noct doesn’t really care about his mental health or what Gladio thinks, but Ignis got all huffy when he tried to put the blinds down again, so he figures he’ll just leave it. He’s just about got readjusted to the level of light and noise and the fact that he’s upright and awake when Prompto comes bursting through the door, still wearing his work clothes.
“Iggy!” he says. “You’re here!”
Ignis looks up in surprise. “Indeed,” he says. “So are you, it seems.”
“The one and only!” Prompto says, spreading his arms with a huge grin. “Hey Noct, Gladio.”
Noct half nods. Gladio barely looks up from his book. But Prompto doesn’t seem to mind. He bounces up to the kitchen counter and leans on it, fluttering his eyelashes at Ignis.
“What are you making, Iggy? Huh? Making something good?”
Ignis looks a little bewildered by the attention, and – is it Noct’s imagination or is he a little flushed? Eh, it’s pretty warm with the all the sunlight and all. Noct’s pretty sure Ignis is wrong about that mental health thing, too.
“Grilled fish and egg salad,” Ignis says.
Ugh, shit, Ignis said the s word.
“Did you say egg salad?” Prompto asks, latching on to completely the wrong part of the phrase egg salad and for some reason looking like he’s just won the lottery.
“Yes,” Ignis says. “I thought you were rather fond of eggs. Did I misremember?”
“I love eggs!” Prompto says. “And – I got you this.” He reaches into his backpack, and, with a flourish, produces a small oblong box. He whistles a fanfare, like it’s a prize in some quiz show or something.
“Ah,” Ignis says. He suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Prompto – you certainly don’t have to keep buying me–”
“It’s an egg slicer!” Prompto says, still with that holy crap I won a million crowns look on his face. “You use it to slice hard-boiled eggs.”
There’s a brief, pained silence, then Gladio snorts. “What, like a knife?” he says.
“Uh, no way, dude,” Prompto says. “This is way better than a knife. All the slices are the same thickness and you only have to cut once to do the whole egg! And it’s got an ergonomic grip.”
Gladio’s smirking now, looking up from his book. “Do you even know what ergonomic means?” he asks.
Prompto flushes slightly. “It’s like – super grippy,” he says. “Way grippier than a knife. And way more ergonomic! It’s, like, the knife of the future!”
Gladio opens his mouth again, but Ignis interrupts whatever he was about to say, reaching out and taking the box from Prompto.
“I’m sure it’s – very special,” he says, shooting a quick glare at Gladio. “Thank you for the kind thought, Prompto.”
Gladio looks kind of stunned, and even more so when Ignis makes a show of unpacking the egg slicer. It seems like Ignis loses his nerve when actually confronted with it, though, because he just stares at it like he’s not sure he believes it’s a real object that truly exists. Noct figures it’s just some kind of cosmic revenge for him opening all the blinds. That’s the kind of thing the Astrals would get up to, right? Right.
“Have you got an egg?” Prompto asks. “For the salad?”
Ignis blinks. “Well, I–” he says, and then pauses, casting around like he’s trying to figure out how to deny that he was ever making egg salad, or maybe that he even knows what eggs are.
“Here’s one!” Prompto sings out. “Go on, I wanna see.”
Ignis sighs heavily. Then he slices the egg.
“Woo!” Prompto says, raising both arms in the air. “Look at those even slices! You did the whole egg at once!”
“Yes,” Ignis says weakly. “It’s very – efficient.”
“Definitely not something he could have done with a knife,” Gladio puts in.
“It’s gonna save you so much time,” Prompto says, reaching over like he’s about to give Ignis a victory punch in the arm, and then stopping suddenly and pulling back, grin becoming briefly fixed and kind of manic. Noct, meanwhile, is working on his pod-person Ignis theory again. The trigger for Invasion of the Ignis-Snatchers is definitely weird kitchen gadgets, but why?
“Oh, man,” Prompto says. “How many eggs have you got to do for the salad? I wanna watch! It’s totally satisfying watching you slice eggs.”
Gladio makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a cough, but neither Ignis nor Prompto looks at him. Prompto is beaming at Ignis, and Ignis (definitely flushed now, serves him right for all that ‘mental health’ bull) is staring at him like he’s forgotten how to talk. There’s a brief silence, then Prompto’s smile dims slightly.
“Iggy?” he says. “You OK?”
Ignis’ mouth snaps shut. “Oh – is it?” he says. “S– Satisfying?”
Prompto’s smile brightens back up. If anything, it becomes several notches brighter. Noct considers going to find his sunglasses. “Totally!” Prompto says. “Go ahead and slice, Eggster!”
Noct’s mouth falls open. Even Gladio looks kind of shocked. But Ignis – doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t even say anything. Nothing. He just reaches for another egg, and slices it.
“Look at that,” Prompto says, leaning his chin on his hands and sounding kind of dreamy. “You and the egg slicer are a perfect match.”
But Ignis doesn’t cut Prompto’s head off with the egg slicer. He doesn’t even try.
He just reaches for another egg.
~
About a week later, Noct is sitting on a wall in the Citadel garden petting a cat when his phone buzzes. He pulls it out and discovers a text from Prompto. It’s a picture of a TV screen, which is showing an image of a man standing over a weird-looking plastic object. what do u think abt this? the text reads.
Noct stares at it for a few seconds, trying to decide what he thinks about it. Then he texts back. not ur best work.
haha im serious, comes the response.
Noct sighs. serious abt what? what is it?
its a dumpling maker! for iggy! Prompto responds.
Noct looks again at the picture. He doesn’t see how it could have any relationships to making dumplings. And, like – isn’t making dumplings pretty easy?
isnt making dumplings pretty easy? he asks.
noooooooo dude all that stuffing and folding, Prompto replies, followed by a string of emojis that suggest that stuffing and folding dumplings makes people throw up and then lie down, possibly in a coma, accompanied by three eggplants for some reason. Honestly, Noct hasn’t really thought about making dumplings before. He’s never made one himself, but he’s definitely never noticed Ignis throwing up or falling into a coma while making them (and definitely no eggplants, because he would have noticed that), so he’s pretty sure Prompto’s wrong. More to the point, Prompto’s – weird.
why do u keep getting kitchen stuff 4 specs? he asks.
There’s no reply for a couple of minutes. Noct occupies himself trying to tempt the cat to sit in his lap. Eventually, his phone buzzes.
just saw it n thought hed like it, the text reads.
Noct rolls his eyes. u need 2 stop watching shopping channel, he texts. he doesnt need all this stuff.
Prompto doesn’t text back.
~
Noct doesn’t see Prompto again until a couple of days later. He goes down to meet him after his shift, and they head off to the arcade. Prompto seems – pretty much like a cheerful, doofy nerd, which is no different from usual. Except there is something different from usual. Noct can’t quite put his finger on it, but – something. Like, Prompto’s too cheerful? But not in the way he’s too cheerful when it’s before noon and Noct needs everyone to be very quiet and preferably somewhere else. More like – it doesn’t seem quite – natural.
Noct’s probably imagining things.
They’ve just lost a lengthy round of Justice Monsters V, and Noct’s fumbling for tokens to start another one, when Prompto starts talking.
“Hey,” he says, “uh–”
“Yeah?” Noct asks, still trying to figure out where the hell he put his tokens. He has way too many pockets. Or – are they in the armiger?
“You know how – the other day – you said – about the, uh – the dumpling maker?” Prompto asks. The sentence takes so long to finish that Noct loses the thread of it, too busy trying to produce tokens from thin air. (OK, they’re probably not in the armiger. Or if they are, they’re never coming out again.)
“Huh?” he says.
“The dumpling maker,” Prompto says, and something about his voice makes Noct look round. Prompto’s half turned away, like what he’s saying is extra-super-casual, except it kind of makes Noct feel like the opposite. It makes him feel like maybe he should be paying more attention right now. Even so, takes him a moment to remember what dumpling maker Prompto’s talking about.
“Uh, yeah,” he says. “What about it?”
“I was just thinking,” Prompto says, scratching the back of his head. “Like – I mean, you said Iggy doesn’t need this stuff, so – does that mean – do you think he didn’t really want the other stuff I got him? The egg slicer and all that?”
Noct opens his mouth. Then he closes it again. The answer is pretty obvious. The truthful answer, anyway. But Prompto looks – miserable. His shoulders are hunched and he’s gripping one wrist with the other hand. Noct hates that.
“Why are you always giving him stuff, anyway?” he asks. He’s not avoiding the question, really. Well, maybe a little bit. “He can get his own stuff.”
“Yeah, course,” Prompto says. “But – I don’t know. He does so much for us. For me. Like, all the cleaning, and he cooks all the time for us. I feel like – it’d be good to give something back, you know? To show I appreciate him. I mean, uh, it. To show I appreciate it.”
Noct frowns at him. “You know he’s not doing that stuff for you, right? He does it for me. It’s his job.”
“I mean, yeah, obviously,” Prompto says, flushing a little. “But – he’s really good at it. And – I just wanted to – I don’t know, help him out. It’s not like I can cook, so giving him stuff to make cooking easier just seemed like–”
He trails off. Noct stares at him. He remembers how obnoxiously happy he was about the Rotato™. And suddenly he feels – kinda bad for telling him not to buy the dumpling maker.
“I mean – do you think he only said he liked that stuff to be polite?” Prompto asks, shoulders hunching further.
And Noct – is a total coward. A total coward who tries to think of a way out for a long moment, and then gives up and says, “No, man. No way. I’ve seen him using that Rotato thing even when you’re not around.”
It’s true. It’s definitely true. It doesn’t count as lying at all. And not only that, it results in Prompto lifting his head and looking at Noct, an expression of hope on his face that kind of makes Noct want to go back in time and smack the phone out of two-days-ago-Noct’s hands.
“Really?” Prompto says.
“Really,” Noct says. “And you know, Ignis really isn’t that polite. I mean, to other people, yeah. But not to us.”
“Huh,” Prompto says, visibly brightening. “Yeah. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Yeah,” Noct says. “So like – don’t sweat it, OK?”
“Yeah, but – what about what you said before?” Prompto asks. “About the dumpling maker?”
Up until now, Noct’s cowardice has been pretty harmless. But now, if he takes the path of least resistance, he’s pretty sure it’s going to end up with Ignis getting another piece of aggravating kitchen equipment. That’s a pretty douchey thing to do to a friend.
“Oh, that?” Noct says, taking the path of least resistance. “I was just worried about you spending so much money, that’s all. I know you’re saving up for that camera stuff you want.”
Prompto is suddenly beaming, and Noct decides that least resistance is the best of all paths.
“No, man, it’s totally worth it,” Prompto says. “I swear, it has all these cool features – and it’s really not that expensive. Like, deep-discounted, that’s what the girl on the infomercial said.”
He smacks Noct on the shoulder in his excitement, and Noct shakes his head. Then Prompto produces the tokens – fuck, that’s right, Noct never had them in the first place – and everything goes back to normal. Even more normal than it was before, because Prompto doesn’t seem weird and off any more.
Three days later, when Prompto shows up at his apartment with the dumpling maker, Noct does feel a little bit guilty.
But only a little bit.
~
“And then you just push this button, and it folds and seals the dumpling for you!” Prompto says, leaning way over the counter of Noct’s kitchen.
“...I see,” Ignis says. He sounds super neutral. Like, the kind of neutral that he gets when he’s working really hard to not start yelling at someone who’s being an idiot. Noct has the urge to cover his eyes. And he also has to keep crushing down the voice that tells him that this is his fault. Because it’s really not. Well, it kinda is. But it’s not, because – it’s not like Noct made Prompto buy the dumpling maker, right? And anyway, literally anyone should be able to see that Ignis hates it. Prompto’s usually pretty good at people stuff, so – there’s no way Noct could have predicted that this would happen. Right?
“Not that I’m not enjoying this, but someone should really tell Prompto to stop buying Ignis Shopping Channel shit,” Gladio murmurs to him.
Noct swallows. “Yeah,” he mutters.
“Oh, man, how come it didn’t work?” Prompto says, looking crestfallen. There’s a pile of shapeless dough on the counter underneath the slot in the dumpling maker. It’s surrounded by fragments of pork and vegetables.
“Perhaps it’s–” Ignis says, and then pauses for way longer than anyone should pause in the middle of a sentence. “–a faulty model,” he finishes at last, like it kind of hurts him to say.
“No way,” Prompto says. “That can’t be it! It looked real simple on the infomercial, but I did watch it three times to make sure it would be something you’d like, so maybe it’s just – takes practice or something? Here, let me–”
He skirts around the counter so he’s standing on the same side as Ignis, then leans over him to grab a circle of dough. Ignis leans back. He looks – really red. Not saying what he really thinks must be killing him.
“OK, so I think – if I spread it out like this–” Prompto frowns in concentration, sticking the tip of his tongue out as he arranges the dough. Ignis stares at him like he’s grown another head. Which makes sense, because seriously, Prompto trying to instruct Ignis in cooking? And Ignis just... standing there? What the hell?
“OK, pork me, Amadignis!” Prompto says, gesturing at the dumpling maker with a flourish.
Gladio snorts. Ignis – doesn’t do anything. Like, literally nothing. The only thing that happens is that his mouth drops open a little.
Prompto holds his pose for a second or two, then frowns and turns to look at Ignis. “Iggy?” he says. “The, uh – the pork?”
Ignis doesn’t do anything. It’s, like, blue screen of death. Noct wonders vaguely how you go about rebooting an Ignis.
Prompto’s frown deepens. He punches Ignis lightly on the arm. “Dude, Iggy,” he says. “You OK there, buddy?”
Ignis’ mouth snaps shut. “I’m sorry, what?” he says. “Did you say something about... pork?”
“Yeah, exactly!” Prompto says. “I need some pork all up in my dumpling. You wanna help me out with that?”
Gladio suddenly doubles over, making a noise like he’s dying. It’s enough to attract the attention of both Ignis and Prompto.
“Huh, you OK, big guy?” Prompto says, starting in the direction of the couch.
Ignis, though, looks furious, and grabs Prompto’s wrist, pulling him back.
“He’s fine, just – extremely childish,” he says. Then he pauses, looking down at his hand on Prompto’s wrist. Prompto looks at it, too. Ignis abruptly lets go and clears his throat.
“You were – showing me the operation of the device,” he says.
Prompto coughs. He looks red, now, as well. Noct wonders if they’re both getting sick. “Yeah – uh, yeah! Right!” Prompto says. “We need to put the pork in. Let me watch you do it.”
Gladio wheezes again. His face is buried in his knees. Noct rolls his eyes. Trust Gladio to somehow read innuendo into a completely non-sexual situation.
Ignis picks up a ball of filling and reaches over to place it into the middle of the dumpling dough.
“Like this?” he asks.
“It doesn’t look quite – hang on–” Prompto says, and then he reaches out and uses Ignis’ fingers to readjust the shape of the dough. “There.”
Prompto withdraws his hands. Ignis doesn’t. “Are you – sure it’s right?” he says in a strangled-sounding voice. (Yeah, he’s definitely getting a cold.) “You don’t want to – adjust it again?”
“Nope, it’s perfect!” Prompto says. “Push the button, maestro!”
Ignis pushes the button. The dumpling maker snaps shut with a burp. A moment later, a perfect dumpling drops out onto the counter.
“Yesssss, woo hoo!” Prompto says. “We are dumpling-maker kings! High five!”
He high-fives Ignis, and for a second after, Ignis cradles his hand to his chest, like Prompto hit him way too hard or something.
“Man, I am so looking forward to these dumplings,” Prompto says. “This is gonna save you so much time over the normal method! And it’s pretty fun, too!”
Ignis swallows and takes off his glasses, which look like they’ve got pretty steamed up.
“Yes,” he says. “I enjoyed myself.”
And he’s getting good at the whole act like I don’t hate this with every fibre of my being bit, because if Noct didn’t know better, he’d say he was telling the truth.