Chapter Text
Prompto was drowning.
All around him were swirls of nondescript blue that swallowed him whole like an ocean riptide, dragging him under and holding him captive. He couldn’t tell which way was up but he needed to breathe . His chest burned and he opened his mouth wide trying to force air through his lungs--
He woke up choking and sputtering as water fell onto his face from above him, blocking his airways. Scrambling into an upright position, Prompto coughed and reached for the lamp beside him. From his bedside table 4:55 am flashed in bright red, the only light in the darkness. He sighed and turned on the light to look for the source of the water. Outside, thunder rolled ominously. He had his answer even before he looked up to see water streaming through the plaster of his ceiling onto his pillow. Grumbling about how mold in his mattress is the last thing he needs, Prompto shoved his bed aside to avoid the water and went to get a bucket.
Damp pillow thrown to the floor, he flopped back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The flaking plaster bubbled in places where yellow-brown stains denoted water damage from long before he moved in. Of course, now he knew where they had come from, but there wasn’t anything he could really do about it. This was the only place he could afford since the publication he’d been working for - The Meteor - had gone under and left him struggling to pay the fees to break the lease for his previous apartment. He’d only been here two months, but he hated every minute of it. Prompto ran a hand over his face and had to stop his train of thought before he got too upset at his current circumstances. For now, he just had to make the best of it. He glanced over at the clock again.
5:35 am.
With a sigh, Prompto forced his weary body out of bed and across the hall to his cramped little bathroom for a shower - praying that there was water pressure today. It held out just until he got the shampoo into his hair and it took fifteen minutes to get it all out with the weak stream of icy water that remained. When he was dry, he moved into his kitchen, opened the fridge, sighed, and shut it again. Who needs breakfast? He’ll snag a croissant when he gets to work. Dressing quickly into his black uniform, he stuffed his bright yellow apron into his bag, grabbed his umbrella, and left his apartment.
The building’s hallway had a signature scent - somewhere between piss on concrete and mothballs. The orange-red carpet crunched under his shoes in places; he never bothered to ask why. He was certain that he didn’t want to know. He just hoped that the elevator worked today. The stairwell was typically a minefield. Sometimes he’d find somebody passed out on the stairs; sometimes there was shit (dog? human?) on the landings. Prompto honestly didn’t have the patience to find out which things were on today’s roulette board. When the elevator opened on his floor, Prompto said a silent prayer of thanks to whichever Astral might be listening that day. It creaked and groaned as it descended and, as always, it sent a spike of anxiety sparking though his body. He didn’t breathe until he was safe in the lobby, and didn’t relax until he was out on the street.
He’d been expecting the rain to be warm and the atmosphere to be thick with humidity, but it was actually chilly, the late summer air holding a bite of the coming fall in the early morning. Shifting the umbrella into the crook of his elbow, Prompto rubbed his arms to warm up, heading for the subway. Throngs of people hurried past him, umbrellas brushing against one another as they walked along tight sidewalks. Prompto was just another face in the crowd -- and he never felt it more than during his morning commute.
It took twelve minutes to get to the Chocobean. Or it would have, if the subway train hadn’t stopped mid-tunnel and refused to keep moving. They were stopped for over twenty minutes before the announcement came. Get comfortable folks, we’re going to be here a while. Bomb threat at the next station. Great . Packed in like sardines, the early morning train already made Prompto queasy. Being trapped on it? That was a special kind of hell. He tried to slow his breathing, but the scent of so many bodies so close together made his head spin, so he looked to his phone for some kind of distraction. There was no cell service underground. King’s Knight wouldn’t run; webpages wouldn’t load. His thumb tapped idly on the screen as he forced himself to take some deep breaths. Then he noticed the time and his heart sped up in fear. 7:05am. He was not going to make it into work.
Luckily for Prompto, his boss had seen on the news that the 6:40 train had been indefinitely delayed, so four hours later, when he was finally freed from the subway, shaking and dizzy and overwhelmed, he was relieved to find that he hadn’t been fired. There had been no bomb. Having missed so much of his shift that his boss had been forced to give it away, Prompto had no choice but to head home. He was starving now, and incredibly nauseous from all that time cramped underground. Boy, wasn’t claustrophobia grand. He didn’t want to return to his tiny apartment. Not yet. Not while his mind was still reeling and even the sky felt like it was closing in around him.
Prompto walked until the crowds faded away and the scent of petrichor on flowers filled his nose. His feet had led him to Central Park, droplets from the morning rain rolling off the leaves above him and into his hair. He took a deep breath and felt the anxiety beginning to melt away. The vast greenery in the center of Insomnia always calmed him, with its sprawling running trails and vibrant foliage. It was still full of brightly coloured blossoms, clinging onto the heat of the dying summer sun. They’d only last another week or so before the frost settled into their roots and choked the life out of them. Some would slumber and others would die, only to be replaced with the coming of spring rains. For now, Prompto decided that he wanted to capture as much as he could before the cold came. He dug through his messenger bag for his camera case and carefully lifted out his Lokton. The camera was one of his most precious possessions, and he brought it with him everywhere for moments like this when he could lose himself completely in the world around him. Building his portfolio was just a bonus.
He didn’t know what the plants were called. That didn’t matter in the slightest. All that mattered was that the noon sun was shining directly overhead and while the light would normally be harsh, it was diffused by the soft green of the leaves in the trees, giving everything a slightly verdant glow. It was his absolute favourite light outside of golden hour. Sure, night shoots were great too, but the viridescent filter added to the photographs in such a way that you could almost smell the outdoors just from looking at them. It was the green of fresh cut grass, the green of summer and trees and picnics. It felt like happiness. Or at least that’s how Prompto looked at it. He didn’t know how long he was taking pictures for, but eventually the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day settled in. His stomach demanded for it to be known. Now that the nausea was gone and he was in a better mood, his stomach twisted angrily and emptily. It was so violent and uncomfortable that he sighed and tried to decide where the cheapest place to eat would be. He didn’t have a lot of money for non-budgeted expenses this month.
There was a stall at the other end of the park he remembered, as he put his camera back into its protective case. It sold some pretty delicious tacos, wrapped in fresh tortillas. And you could get several for an affordable price. It was perfect. Prompto began to walk in that direction, mind completely focused on acquiring the delicious meat laden goodies. So focused, in fact, that he was completely unaware of everything else around him, and walked straight into what felt like a brick wall. Except brick walls don’t grunt and cause hot liquid to spill all over you. In a daze, Prompto realized that he had run into another man - a man who had, up until a few moments before, been holding a full cup of coffee. Prompto squeaked and turned bright red when he noticed the coffee stains over the other man’s dress shirt.
“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry!” The apology tumbled out of Prompto’s mouth messily as he got up off of the sidewalk, ears burning in embarrassment.
The other man had managed to stay upright during the collision, but he hadn’t been fast enough to salvage his drink. He sighed and looked at Prompto with sharp green eyes. “You really should be watching where you’re going.”
Prompto froze as those eyes fell on him. He already felt bad enough, but now he had to deal with the fact that the man in front of him was incredibly attractive. With his bright eyes and sharp cheekbones, Prompto’s stomach flip-flopped at the sight of him. He looked away and down at his feet sheepishly, “Let me buy you a replacement coffee… Or… Oh man, I should probably get that cleaned for you…” Prompto trailed off, trying not to wince as he crunched numbers in his head.
“That won’t be necessary.” The other man ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and closed his jacket to cover the stain. Prompto felt a surge of relief, even though the guilt was still strong. “I must be going. But please be more careful in the future.”
The man walked away without another word, but the sinking guilty feeling didn’t leave Prompto even after he was gone. This had been one of the worst days in the history of terrible days. He didn’t even want his tacos now. He wanted to go home, wrap himself in blankets and forget that any of this had happened.
***
The next day Prompto woke up ravenous. It wasn’t the first time that he’d skipped meals for an entire day, but he usually tried to get in at least one so that he didn’t have to feel like this. He shuffled into his kitchen, knowing there wasn’t a lot there for him to work with. He settled on a container of Cup Noodles, letting them ‘cook’ while he showered. Luckily, he was working the second morning shift of the day and had time to eat them.
When he got to work at 10 am, he was beginning to feel a bit better than he had for most of yesterday. The subway had been smooth today, his boss had been incredibly understanding, and he got to see some of his favourite customers before they went along with their day. It seemed like the bad luck of yesterday was all in the past. He really hoped it stayed that way.
At 11:45 and 35 seconds, his whole world was spun upside down again.
Prompto was working the register. Interacting with people and making them smile was one of his favourite things to do as a barista. In most places he felt invisible, but here? Here he could be someone else, someone confident and charming. After showing the previous customer where to wait for her drink, he turned to the sound of another order being made. “Can I get a café mocha and a double espresso latte to go, please?”
“Yeah, no problem! That’ll be $10.75.” Prompto flicked his eyes over to smile at the new customer and his brain completely stopped working. He was certain that everyone in the café would hear the sound of stuttering gears from his mind as he stared, breathless and frozen. The man in front of him had black hair that framed the sides of his face and the wispy beginnings of facial hair - stubble barely more than five o’clock shadow. There was a familiarity to the shape of his face; to the lines of his jaw. It made Prompto feel like he was holding a live wire - heat and pain surging through his body all at once. He examined the face in front of him for only a few seconds before settling on the man’s eyes, and dropped the paper cup that he was holding.
His eyes were blue. Not just any blue. A steel blue, like the winter sky just before a storm. Like the first rays of dawn, lighting the autumn air. Like the feeling of breathing after eating mint. Recognition slammed into Prompto like a truck.
“No-Noctis…?”
His voice barely came out as a whisper as he stuttered over the name. It was so quiet, he wasn’t even sure that he’d said it out loud. But the man was studying him with a slight frown to his brow, lips parted in surprise. Prompto saw the moment that his face registered, the flash of recognition in Noctis’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad that he remembered him or sad that it took so long.
“Prompto?”
They stared at each other for what felt like a long time without speaking. Prompto’s reeling mind was only interrupted by his manager, Coffea, gently nudging his shoulder and handing him the tray with Noctis’s drinks. “Why don’t you take five?” She smiled, guiding him gently away from the register so that she could take over orders. Prompto mumbled his thanks and moved to the other edge of the counter with Noctis.
“You, uh… You look good,” Noctis offered tentatively, looking nearly as nervous and out of place as Prompto felt.
Prompto shrugged, “Sure, if you like the perpetually tired look.” Noctis’s mouth twitched with the hint of an amused smirk. Prompto crossed his arms across his chest and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, what brings you around here?”
Noctis glanced at his shoes for a moment before focusing his gaze over Prompto’s shoulder, “Ah, Well… Business, you know. Been back in town for only a day.”
“Right. Right, just business, huh?” Prompto felt his customer service smile slide into place. “Well, great. So you’ve been keeping busy. That’s excellent.”
Noctis frowned a little, voice tinged with just the slightest hint of desperation. “It’s… It’s complicated.”
Prompto waved off his words, “No, buddy, I get it. Life, right?”
“Prom, I...” Noctis trailed off and Prompto was struck by the feeling of nothingness between them. They were strangers now. It broke his heart.
“Nothing to say. You should take these before they go cold.” Prompto held out the tray of coffees so that Noctis could take them.
Noctis was quiet for a moment and then met Prompto’s eyes with a determined expression. “Listen, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, but I’m glad that I did. Really glad. You have no idea. I wish I could stay, but I have to get going because Ignis is waiting, but um… let’s meet up for dinner? How about 8pm at the Pavillion?”
Prompto blinked in surprise. “Uh… sure, okay.” He found himself agreeing automatically. He could never deny Noctis anything, even now after nearly a decade apart. Besides, he was desperate for the chance to learn what had truly happened between them.
Noctis smiled, “I’ll see you then.”
“Y’alright, sugar? Coffea patted him on the shoulder now that the cash was quiet. Prompto, broken from his reverie and embarrassed he’d been caught staring at the front door, startled and looked at her.
“I… yes. Sorry about that. That was… an old friend.” Prompto offered her a small smile, but he was still feeling a bit off, overcome with mixed emotions.
“Well, I’m glad that he really was a friend. When you looked at him, you went so pale that I thought you’d seen a ghost.”
He knew that Coffea was teasing him, but she wasn’t that far off from the truth. “Honestly, I kind of did. I haven’t seen him in a decade, after all.”
Coffea raised an eyebrow. “A decade?” She hummed, and moved to clean up the espresso machine while they spoke. “Something tells me there’s a story there.”
“Not exactly. He just disappeared one day in college and I never heard from him again. This is the first time since that day.”
Coffea stopped cleaning and looked at him, studying him carefully. “Are you sure you’re alright, hun? Something like that is bound to hold all kinds of feelings. And I expect most of ‘em are negative.”
“Honestly, I don’t know how I feel. It’s just a swirl.” He shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out after I see him for dinner tonight.”
Coffea looked suspicious. “Well you be careful, y’hear. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Prompto smiled again, "Thanks, Coffea. I’ll be okay. I’m sure of it. At the very least, some answers would be really helpful.”
Patting him gently on the arm, Coffea smiled. “I hope you get that much at least. Closure on a ten year wound will be satisfying. Let me know if you need anything while you deal with it.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know. Thanks.” Prompto shook off the negativity and put on his best customer service smile, turning to the cash as a new customer walked up to the counter.
Everything was going to be fine. He was sure of it.
***
There was a gnawing sensation beginning to build in the pit of Prompto’s stomach. He’d been trying to ignore it for hours, but the closer it got to eight o’clock, the more the sensation demanded to be felt. It could no longer be ignored. There was nothing left to do but admit the truth - he was scared. Of course, he was. How could he not be? Noctis had been gone for ten years. Ten! Without so much as a goodbye. Now, he was back again and the anger and hatred that Prompto thought he’d buried years ago was churning just under the surface. He was just itching to let it all out, but he also felt like he wanted to cry. The emotions fought, until only one remained. After all this time, he just missed his friend.
When eight finally rolled around, Prompto was a half block away from the restaurant. His anxiety had gotten him there stupidly early, but had also convinced him that he shouldn’t actually walk in until about ten after just to make sure that Noctis showed up. Besides, he didn’t want to seem too eager. And so, he’d roamed the blocks nearby, pretending to window shop when he could, all the while fighting an internal battle of emotion. By the time he was ready to meet Noctis, he was almost composed. Almost.
The Pavillion was a popular restaurant and bar in midtown with just enough atmosphere to be considered classy without being upper class. He scanned the dining room when he entered, trying not to fidget too obviously as he looked for Noctis. Noctis noticed him first and waved to catch his attention. As Prompto walked over, he had to remind himself to breathe; even as the heavy weight of fear and dread nestled itself between his lungs.
“Noctis,” he let out a shaky breath as he slid into the booth opposite his old friend. “I was almost afraid that I’d imagined the whole encounter.” Prompto laughed nervously, but didn’t miss that Noctis winced slightly.
“Yeah, I-” He sighed. “I’m really sorry about that. You know I-” Noctis cut himself off several times, fumbling for the right words, “I really wanted to… It was just…” He gave up with a frustrated sound, looking away for a moment before settling on Prompto with a pleading expression.
Prompto studied him for a moment, taking in a sadness in the lines of Noctis’s face that he hadn’t noticed before. The emotions inside him warred once again. He wanted to press for his answers; wanted to cause a scene with his fury. The part of him that still loved Noctis, that still missed him, won. “I- …Listen, I don’t know what happened, but tonight? Tonight it doesn’t matter, okay? We can deal with it later. Tonight we’re just old friends who haven’t seen each other in a hot minute.” Prompto smiled, “We can deal with the rest another time.”
Noctis looked relieved and Prompto was surprised to find himself happy with that fact. They were quiet for a moment while they read through the menu and placed their orders. The atmosphere between them was heavy with nerves, neither one wanting to say the wrong thing or upset the other.
“Noctis?”
“Yeah?” Noctis blinked and focused properly on Prompto’s face.
“I’ve… missed you,” Prompto let the soft admission hang in the air between them, lingering with fear and hints of pain. He didn’t elaborate and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress brought their food and drinks. Prompto felt the flutter of panic course through him, but Noctis’s expression kept him grounded. It was full of regret and softness.
“I’m sorry,” Noctis whispered, more into his plate than to Prompto. Prompto reached across the table and patted Noctis’s hand, half to reassure him and half to convince himself that Noct was real. He could practically feel Noctis relax as he lifted his head to look at Prompto, “I wish I could explain.”
Prompto shook his head, unwilling to compromise on his earlier decision; unwilling to face his own rage. “Not tonight. Maybe instead… how have you been?”
Noctis smiled gratefully, “I’ve been busy. I feel like I haven’t had a proper moment to breathe for years. But it’s been good. I owe most of it to Ignis and Gladio though. Not sure how I would have gotten through without them.”
Prompto tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt at that, anger rising briefly before he swallowed it down. “Ignis and Gladio?”
“Ah, you’ll like them. Friends of mine. Well, they work with me too technically.” Noctis shrugged like it wasn’t very important, but to Prompto this was new information that made him feel like he was being scrubbed raw from the inside out. Noctis had left him and made new friends. He wondered if one of them had replaced him as Noctis’s boyfriend… Prompto shook his head slightly to clear it. No, this wasn’t the time or place.
“I’m glad that you made new friends.” Prompto smiled, eating a few bites to give himself time to calm down.
“I don’t think they would have let me ignore them even if I wanted to. But what about you? Are you still into photography?”
Prompto decided to not tell him about the glorious loss of his career that he’d suffered recently and his current desperate situation. “Yeah. I freelance actually. But it’s more of a passion project than a lucrative career, hence the Chocobean. Don’t get me wrong, I love it! And some months are amazingly busy, but others are… well, not.” He shrugged.
“At least you’re doing something you love,” Noctis said softly.
“You say that like you aren’t?” Prompto frowned at the insinuation.
“That’s… complicated I guess.” Noctis opened his mouth to say more, but his phone rang and cut him off. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “I’m so sorry, I have to take this.”
Prompto ate quietly while Noctis spoke on the phone, studying his mannerisms as he switched into his work persona. There was something unnaturally rigid about it that just wasn’t the Noctis he remembered. Noctis wasn’t this hard company man, he was soft and kind. He had seen Prompto even though he should have been completely invisible to him. He had rescued orphaned kittens and defended other students from bullies. To see him put in that corporate box made Prompto’s heart wrench.
“...sorry.”
Prompto blinked and realized that Noctis was talking to him again. “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”
Noctis smiled sadly and repeated himself. “That was the office. Something came up. I… I have to go and deal with it.”
Prompto’s face fell before he could stop it. “Oh.” He tried to wave it away nonchalantly, but he knew Noctis had noticed. “Well, what can you do? Work is important.”
“I’m sorry.” Noctis laughed wryly, “I feel like that’s all I’ve said to you tonight.” He shook his head. “Here, give me your phone.”
Prompto’s eyes widened but he did as asked, watching as Noctis tapped at the screen for a few moments. “There. Now you have my number.” Noctis smiled, more genuinely than he had all night. Prompto felt a rush of mixed emotions, but mostly happiness at reconnecting, and satisfaction that he might be able to get his answers.
Noctis put his coat on and tossed some money onto the table. “That should cover dinner.” It was more than enough. Too much. More cash than Prompto had ever had on hand at one time. He opened his mouth to protest, as the guilt nagged the back of his mind, but Noctis was already in his coat and didn’t let him. “Sorry to dash, but we’ll talk again soon.”
And then, once again, Noctis was gone.