Prompt Post

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 Welcome to Round Two of the FFXV Kink Meme!

CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills

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Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!

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UPDATE 3/2/2017: Per the Rules thread: Do not hijack prompts. If someone posts a prompt for one pairing, don't comment to say "I want to see this for [other kink]" - post your own prompt for the other kink). To that end, if you are unclear on a prompter's kinks/DNWs, please feel free to ask about them. If you ask about kinks/DNWs or to clarify a prompt, you are in no way obligated to fill it.

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ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED FOR PROMPTS!

Go ahead and keep on filling away, we will open up round three for prompts at 0000 EST, Saturday April 22, 2017.

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Fill 3/?: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

The world is vastly changed after Noctis disappears. It's been four years now, but at first, it took Prompto a good long time to get used to the fact that neither Noctis, or the sun, seemed to be coming back any time soon. He remembers how long it took, really, for both of those things to truly sink in, to stop waiting for a sunrise that would never happen, to stop listening for a familiar footstep outside the door.

He's only used to both of these out of necessity, and the passing of time.

Prompto remembers, with a flush of shame any time the memory comes back to him, of how insensitive he was near the beginning of this darkness. He still wasn't used to either the sun or Noct disappearing from his life yet, and he'd been so miserable, and he remembers how he'd said something to Ignis about the dark, he doesn't remember exactly what, the shame has thankfully wiped some of that from his memory, but he knows that despite his misery it hadn't been considerate. He remembers how Ignis had responded, replied dryly, and with more bitterness than Prompto had ever heard from him before, how he hadn't noticed the darkness. And at those words Prompto had frozen, all his useless fidgeting, restless energy drained from him in absolute horror, because he never wanted to hurt Ignis. It was unusual too, to hear that tone in Ignis' voice, that type of caustic venom. Prompto wouldn't be surprised if Ignis ever spoke like that more often, who could blame him after what had happened, but Ignis never had, and never does now, so it took him by surprise at the time.

He'd felt awful, kept apologising to Ignis, he just hadn't been thinking, he was so sorry, and it wasn't until Ignis had given Prompto's shoulder a squeeze, assured him, genuinely if a little bit exasperated, that it was okay. After that though, Prompto never complained about the darkness again. Every time he thinks wistfully about the sun, he reminds himself that even when it does come back – he knows it will come back, it has to come back, along with Noctis – Ignis won't be able to see it.

Over the past couple of months, Prompto has realised that, though Ignis won't be able to see it, when it does happen, he'll still be able to enjoy the warmth of the sun's light on his skin again. And Prompto will do his utmost to describe everything he sees to Ignis, so he can enjoy it as much as possible. He'll make sure of it.

-

Prompto can pinpoint exactly when his friendship with Ignis first shifts, properly - not that shift, early on in his friendship with Noctis, going from goofball friend to an important person in Noct's life. The first, real, shift, had been after that day in Altissia. Everyone had just kind of fallen apart, and Prompto had felt like it had been left to him, to try to keep them together, to keep them all going so they could see this through. But more than that, it had been Prompto's care towards Ignis. Gladio's pain and anger had made him push away, and Noct's inability to deal with his grief and his feelings had kept his mind trained inwards.

Prompto had always struggled with not being useful, not being strong or clever or anything else good, but he'd known if there was anything he could do, it was be supportive to Ignis, try to help him through what had happened. Maybe the shift had been Prompto starting to become more responsible, earning himself more respect, it didn't matter so much what the shift was, only that it had happened.

The next big shift is difficult for Prompto to pinpoint, because it's crept up on him quietly, in the dark. Somehow, through the years spent together more often than not. Fighting with each other, learning an even deeper understanding of each other than before, and watching Ignis re-learn how to fight, and become even better at it than he'd been before. It kept Prompto in constant awe of Ignis, and perhaps some of that awe had translated itself into something else.

Through nights of feeling like the only two people in the world at times, through darkness that wasn't simply the lack of sun, keeping each other's moods and spirits up.

It's lost, somewhere in those years, that next shift.

-

“Three o'clock!” Prompto calls out, and Ignis turns immediately in that direction, his daggers slicing through the ereshkigal before it's claws could slice through Ignis. It vanished a moment later, the blow a killing one.

That meant there were still two more daemons left, Prompto thinks, his eyes trying to scan through the dark for the other two ereshkigal he knows are there.

“Prompto, behind you!”

Prompto turns just in time, the ereshkigal is quick, but so is Prompto, and he has his gun raised, hitting the daemon almost point blank when he fires. It's enough to make the daemon recoil, give Prompto space to move back and take another shot. A moment later and Ignis is there, his daggers making quick work of the daemon. Prompto uses that moment to pick out the other one, and though his eyes have managed to adjust to years of darkness, the ereshkigal were dark as well, and difficult to stop with their quick movements. He finds it though, and finishes off the last one.

Ignis, his breaths coming a little heavier after their brief but intense battle, comes up beside Prompto, his daggers vanishing in a flash of blue light, the brightness of which almost hurting Prompto's eyes just then. They're silent for a few moments, before Ignis presses a hand against Prompto's shoulder. “I don't hear anything else nearby. Let us return quickly.”

“You don't have to tell me twice,” Prompto jokes weakly, his own hand coming to rest briefly against Ignis' shoulder. It was their silent ritual after a fight, a kind of 'I'm here', a symbol of reassurance to each other.

Prompto finds he misses the warmth once it's gone, as he and Ignis make their way back to Lestallum. They aren't far from the city proper, they'd headed out at reports of some daemons getting worryingly close, a relatively easy mission, by all accounts. They're waylaid by a thunder bomb about half way back, Ignis hearing it before Prompto can see it, though they manage to dispatch of it between them quickly, before it can explode and cause more trouble. It barely gives them pause, they've become so used to fighting against the unending stream of daemons the world keeps spewing at them.

They stumble into Lestallum not too worse for wear, Ignis informing the hunter's on duty that the western perimeter had now been cleared out. There's a message from Aranea, that she's on her way with some refugee's she's rescued.

“Hope we're here to see her when she comes by,” Prompto says, as they make their way to the apartment. “We haven't seen Aranea in forever!”

“Indeed,” Ignis agrees. “Her work does keep her busy.”

They don't see enough of most of their old friends, really, and Prompto finds himself once again deeply grateful for Ignis, and how they continuously seem to gravitate to each other, not often taking leave of each other for too long when they can help it.

It seems hotter than usual tonight, and as soon as the door closes behind them in the apartment, Prompto begins pulling off his jacket, not that it helps much, there's hardly anything to it in the first place. Ignis is removing his own jacket, in a much less careless manner, and in the motion and better lighting, Prompto notices a streak of red across Ignis' neck, low, near his collarbone.

“Iggy!” He says, surprised, because he'd had no idea. “You're hurt! Why didn't you say anything?” He moves across the room quickly, even as Ignis shakes his head.

“It's just a scratch. It wasn't worth mentioning.”

“You're bleeding,” Prompto says, hands on Ignis' shoulders now so he can keep him still, get a better look at the slashed skin.

“Ah, that will be a first, then.”

Prompto can't help but laugh a little at the dryness of Ignis' voice. “Think you're so clever, don't you?” He jokes, stepping away so he can retrieve the first aid box they keep. Ignis wouldn't want to use a potion on this, Prompto knows, he'd deem it a waste.

“Actually,” Ignis begins, a light, teasing lilt in his voice, one that Prompto doesn't get to hear nearly enough.

“Stop, don't answer that,” Prompto shoots back, laughing. It doesn't take him long to find what he's looking for, and a moment later he turns back towards Ignis. “Sit,” he instructs, stepping towards the other man.

Ignis sighs, as if he's just indulging Prompto, but sits down in a nearby chair. “I hardly think this is necessary. I can barely feel it.”

“Don't care,” Prompto answers, firmly, but fondly, leaning over Ignis now. He begins cleaning the blood off of Ignis' skin, his touch gentle, but it still pulls a soft hiss from Ignis. “You really should have said something, Iggy.”

“As I'm sure you can see, it's really nothing to write home about. I'm perfectly fine.”

Prompto, fingers moving surely over the wound, glances up to Ignis' face; they're quite close, like this. His heart is suddenly thumping inside his chest, faster than usual, and he hopes, a bit ridiculously, that Ignis can't hear it. “I know you're fine,” he finds himself saying after a moment. He can see this for himself, the wound looks like Ignis was nicked by the tip of a quick, sharp claw, but nothing more.

He doesn't want Ignis to think that he can't look after himself though, he knows how independent and in control Ignis has to be, and Prompto knows, has seen for himself, that his blindness hasn't hindered him from this, he's just had to work his way around it. Injury or not, Ignis is still the most capable, and one of the deadliest, people Prompto has ever known. He would never imply otherwise.

His fingers linger a little, against the side of Ignis' neck, the antiseptic wipe already set aside, so it's Prompto's fingertips against Ignis' bare skin. He's almost certain he can feel a hint of Ignis' pulse, beating faster than expected, and Ignis' skin is definitely warm beneath his fingers.

“Just,” Prompto says, throat suddenly thick, and he swallows, moves his hand down to Ignis' shoulder, before he tries again. “Just, you gotta tell me, okay? Not because you can't look out for yourself,” he adds quickly, words coming out in a rush, “but. But, because I have to know.”

They're quiet for a moment. All Prompto can hear is the incessant pounding of his heart, Ignis' breaths coming a little faster. He's only just realised that perhaps his heart is overreacting to the press of a hand against his waist; a warm, easy comfort, momentarily tying them together and keeping them close.

Eventually, Ignis seems to pull himself together, although there's almost a light quake in his voice, when he speaks. “Alright. It's ridiculous, but if it'll make you happy.”

Prompto's heart slowly begins to soar.

“It will,” he insists. It takes him a few moments longer, but he pulls himself together, and away from Ignis, picking up his discarded wipes. “You're not bleeding any more, so I think it is just a scratch.

“Ah.” Somehow, in that one word, Ignis manages to convey such a strong sense of 'I told you so.'

Prompto wants to laugh, a strong feeling of fondness rising within him at the sound, but he settles instead for tossing the used wipe in the trash.

They settle into an almost domestic routine, when they're both in the same place at the same time. After getting changed into comfier clothes, Prompto helps Ignis cook them up something to eat. And by 'help', it's really just Prompto standing close by, asking questions, watching as Ignis works. More often than not, Prompto finds his eyes on Ignis' face, following the curve of his neck and shoulders, watches his arm as Ignis stirs the food, his fingers as he deftly chops some vegetables. It's almost mesmerising, and Prompto doesn't realise he's staring, until Ignis' voice suddenly pulls him from it.

“Can I get the salt please, Prompto?”

“W-what? Oh, oh! Yeah, sure, of course!” Prompto, a bit flustered, passes Ignis the salt, swallows just a little thickly when their fingers brush.

They settle into what passes for normalcy for them now, sharing food, conversation, and occasionally laughter. It's nice, Prompto thinks, or as nice as anything can be, these days.

Fill 4/5: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

It's different, with Ignis, Prompto finds.. He remembers quite clearly – painfully so, sometimes – how things were with Noctis, how young they were, how Prompto had never even had a friend before, and his feelings had been overwhelming and boundless, and Noctis' had been the same in return. Everything had been shy, but eager, and at the time feelings had seemed limitless.

It isn't the same for Prompto, this time around. He's older, for a start, and both he and Ignis know the pain of regret, of things unsaid, undone, never to be. So it creeps up on Prompto, really, quietly, but steadily. He finds comfort and solace in Ignis, in a piece of his home and his past, and he hopes that in return Ignis has been able to find comfort in Prompto, he certainly tries, at least.

He thinks that's all it really is at first, friend's lending each other strength and support in dark times. Ignis is there, with a shoulder to lean on, or a hand to squeeze, or even arms wound tightly around Prompto, when he needs them, and he thinks that's all there is to it. Until he realises, on nights when he's alone, how his thoughts always stray back to Ignis, wishing he were there, worried for his safety, missing his warmth, that there's more to it than simple comfort. At least as far as Prompto's concerned. There's definitely more to it, when he finds himself imagining what it might be like to kiss Ignis. He misses that.

They're sharing a caravan again, and they're in Hammerhead at the moment. What was once Takka's restaurant has become headquarters for hunters, over the years, and hunting is what keeps Ignis and Prompto busy.

It's night now, or what's supposed to be night, the only true indication any more are the times on their phones, and Prompto's cooking dinner. He's spent his day fixing the lights and other various things around Hammerhead. Besides hunting, tinkering, fixing, and enhancing things are what takes up most of Prompto's time. He's learnt a lot from Cid especially, about enhancing weapons. It's not the best, but it's not the worst either, he supposes, and he likes being able to do what he can to try and help keep people safe.

He's just spooning some food into two bowls when Ignis steps from the tiny shower room, washed and dressed again after a day spent hunting. Prompto glances over at Ignis, and finds himself, as always, in complete awe of him. He knows Ignis can fight and hold his own against daemons still, and he's witnessed it many times now, but it never stops amazing him, how Ignis can do all that, and still come back, most of the time, without even a scratch on him. Prompto's sure he's never known anyone as incredible, to be honest.

“Something smells wonderful,” Ignis says, moving with ease towards the tiny kitchen. His hair is brushed down over his forehead, still damp from his shower. It makes him look so much younger, more like his actual age, Prompto thinks.

“Oh, it's not nearly as good as yours,” Prompto says, as always, struck by the sincerity in Ignis' comments. He's gotten better at cooking over the years, out of necessity, but nothing really rivals Ignis' cooking. “Just a simple stew.” Prompto pushes a bowl in front of Ignis as he takes a seat.

“Even so,” Ignis insists, and he smiles softly across the table at Prompto.

Prompto smiles back; he hopes, even though Ignis can't see it, that he can feel it, aimed at him. “Well as long as it's edible I'll be happy!” He says, picking up his spoon. “Spoon's on your right,” he adds.

They eat in comfortable silence for a few moments, Prompto savours how normal it almost is, sitting here, sharing a meal with Ignis. He's so grateful that he's not alone right now. After years of doing so as a kid, Prompto hates eating alone, there's nothing quite as lonely, he finds. So he's glad, and happy, that he has Ignis here, to enjoy the meal with.

“Hmm, a touch too much salt, I think,” Ignis says after a few mouthfuls. It's not a criticism, Prompto always asks for ways to improve.

“Yeah, you're right,” Prompto agrees. “Thanks, I'll remember for next time.”

“This is delicious though,” Ignis says, a moment later. “Thank you, Prompto.” There's a smile, aimed at Prompto, and the sincerity in those words strikes a chord within Prompto, has him considering some of the thoughts that have been passing through his mind lately. It's simple, but knowing that he's done something for Ignis makes him happy. He just wishes he could do more, Prompto's always been the least useful of the four of them, he knows, and sometimes his desire to do more for those he loves feels restricted by the knowledge that he's not really very good at anything. Still, with Ignis' smile still lingering in his memory, Prompto finds it hard to be too down on himself, and he'll take the small things, like cooking Ignis a meal and making him smile.

They continue to eat, alternating between an easy silence and comfortable small talk. He can almost imagine it's just a normal evening. Except he can hear the heavy footfalls of an iron giant striding around, somewhere down the road, see the unnatural glow of some fire bombs in the distance, their light different from the other lights that leak through the thin curtains. He'll take almost, as well, though.

When they're finished, they stand in the tiny kitchenette together, washing up the dishes. Ignis had insisted he would do them, as Prompto had done the cooking, but Prompto insists on helping. It's an easy routine to fall into, giving Ignis a hand, although Prompto feels entirely different things now than he did, during those days on the road.

It's almost painfully domestic, as Prompto washes and Ignis dries, shoulders and legs bumping occasionally, as there's hardly room for two full grown men really in the small space, but Prompto likes it. Wishes perhaps the circumstances could be better, but he's gotten used to not pining too hard for those good old days, when he can help it, and focusing on what good he can find now. Ignis is part of that good, he thinks. Maybe most of that good, he reconsiders, thinking of the comfort Ignis gives him.

When the last dish is put away, Prompto turns towards Ignis, close in the small space, reaches out with one hand, rests it lightly in the curve of Ignis' elbow. If there's one thing Prompto has learnt after everything, it's that time and opportunity are terrible things to waste and let slip by. He doesn't want to let lost moments slip away again. He's almost certain, well, possibly almost certain – hopeful, really, not at all certain, that he's not the only one who feels this slow build up of heat between them. He thinks he sees Ignis widen his eye, a little, at Prompto's touch. He can't be the only one who feels this. It's been there for some time, after all, in their quiet moments together, in the comfort of a touch, or an easy embrace, the offering of a smile, a laugh. Unhurried, but constant.

“Ignis,” Prompto says, looks up into his face; he's so handsome, in this moment, still damp hair in his face, an Ignis he doesn't see all that often. It's brave, he thinks, what he's about to do, because there's something about stating intentions that feels scarier than just going ahead and doing it, consequences be damned. There's a chance for Ignis to say no, but Prompto is not quite as thoughtless as he used to be, and he doesn't want Ignis to be caught unaware. “Can I kiss you?” He says it, words coming out in a rush before he can properly think about it.

Ignis stills for a moment, his eye on Prompto, but unseeing, and just as Prompto's starting to worry, Ignis let's out the breath he must have been holding. “Oh,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His hands move, first finding their way to Prompto's shoulders, before one trails up Prompto's neck, sends a slight shiver through Prompto's body. He feels fingers against his jaw, then lightly tracing the curve of his lips, and then Ignis leans down and kisses Prompto.

It's soft, when their mouths meet, and their lips move together sweetly. They kiss with care, with longing, as if savouring every moment of this connection. It's nothing like any of Prompto's other first kisses with people, and his mind is so full of Ignis, of the warmth of this moment. He leans into the kiss, into Ignis, his hand moves to Ignis' waist, fingers curling loosely into the fold of Ignis' shirt. Prompto feels as Ignis sighs into their kiss, a soft breath against his lips, and a small sound escapes the back of his throat. He feels Ignis' hand cupping the side of his face, fingers brushing against Prompto's warming cheeks.

It's not passionate, but there's a definite heat there, slow, just beneath the surface. Prompto kind of wants to melt a little, as Ignis continues to kiss him so tenderly. His heart is beating heavily inside his chest when they pull apart, and Prompto's a little lost for words and for breath.

“I hope it was okay,” he says eventually, and they haven't moved from where they were, the only loss of contact so far the one between their lips.

“Your kiss was more than 'okay',” Ignis answers, fingers brushing lightly across Prompto's cheek.

He feels his cheeks warm a little then, wonders vaguely to himself if he'll ever be too old to blush. “I meant kissing you at all, not how it was,” he says, embarrassed. Prompto's done enough kissing by this point in his life that it's a skill he doesn't have to worry about, thanks.

Ignis laughs then, quietly, but a laugh all the same, and there's a teasing quality to his voice when he speaks. “I know exactly what you meant.” The sound of it has Prompto's heart lifting, because that easy teasing they'd all partaken in has been hard to come by the last few years, and it's so nice when it does happen. “And I meant exactly what I said.”

Prompto huffs, but it's without annoyance, really, because he's smiling. He feels Ignis' fingers move to the corner of his lips, sees him smile in return.

Fill 5/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

“Iris stopped by while you were gone,” Ignis says, after Prompto lets himself into the apartment.

“Aw, why do people always come by when I'm not here?” Prompto all but whines, toeing his boots off by the door. There's a definite almost-pout on his face to go with his words. “How was she though?” He hasn't seen Iris in a long time, really, though he knows she's joined the hunters in fighting the daemon's. Can't keep an Amicitia from a good fight, it seems.

Prompto only notices then that there's music playing softly, and Ignis is seated on the small couch, a book in his lap, fingers still lingering, though not moving, on the pages. As he passes by the couch he reaches out, brushes a hand lightly across Ignis' shoulders, a sort of 'I'm here', affection that has come easily to them, since they first shared a kiss.

“She's well,” Ignis answers. “She's been on a mission with Gladio down near Old Lestallum.”

Prompto is in the process of pulling off his jacket, but he stills when he hears Ignis mention Gladio.

Ignis continues, sounding as calm as ever. “They were helping some hunters who had gotten into trouble, I believe, but they managed to get everyone out alive.”

Letting out a breath, Prompto continues changing into something more comfortable, ignores the new, blossoming bruise spreading across one calf, thanks to a goblin he hadn't noticed while dealing with a mindflayer. “I'm glad everyone's okay. Iris has gone full daemon hunter now though, bet Gladio's feeling conflicted about that.” He moves and joins Ignis on the couch, sitting close, one hand reaching out to take hold of Ignis', no longer even pretending to try and read any more. With his free hand, Ignis carefully sets the book aside.

“Yes, I imagine so,” he agrees, tone even. “Fiercely proud, and yet terrified of anything happening to her.”

Prompto hums in agreement. “I am too, really. But there's no stopping Iris, even if Gladio wanted to. She's an Amicitia, after all.” He laughs lightly, feels a small sense of relief at Ignis' answering smile.

Ignis turns his hand within Prompto's, twines their fingers together. It seems Ignis has found it just as simple as Prompto has, to slip from friendly comfort, to something more affectionate. It warms something within him.

“She also mentioned how Gladio has found someone, though he doesn't wish to marry her until Noctis and the sun return.”

Prompto's fingers inadvertently tighten around Ignis' at the news, surprised, and his eyes search Ignis' face for any sign of his feelings about this. But Ignis has always been good at keeping his cards close, and the tinted glasses he wears makes it difficult for Prompto to see what might hide behind them.

“Oh. That really is news, isn't it?” He says, and he's happy for Gladio, he is, but Prompto's first concern is Ignis, and how this might affect him. “Are you okay?”

Ignis raises his eyebrows a little. “Of course. Why are you so worried?”

“That bad at hiding it, huh?” He says, laughing softly at himself. Ignis can always tell. “I just,” and Prompto pauses, shifts a little where he's sitting, though never letting go of Ignis' hand. They never talk about this. “Just worried, because of what you and Gladio had, you know? I don't like seeing you hurt.” He says this all quickly, getting it over with, feeling awkward all the same.

And now Ignis really is surprised, he gives Prompto's hand a soft squeeze, leans closer in towards him. “Do you believe I still harbour romantic feelings towards Gladio?”

Prompto laughs again, a self-deprecating huff of air, because put that way, so matter of factly, it does sound a little silly. He squirms a little bit, until Ignis' other hand moves to rest on Prompto's shoulder, trying to still him. “I, uh. Well, n-no, not really,” Prompto says, a little awkwardly. “But I know what happened between you guys couldn't have been, uh, couldn't have been easy. And just, well, I'm just worried about you, is all.” 'I don't want to see your heart break,' is what Prompto's really thinking.

“Prompto,” Ignis says softly, the hand on Prompto's shoulder moves now, fingers cupping the back of his neck, and Prompto feels his skin prickle with warmth at the touch. “Yes, it was a difficult time, I'll admit,” he says. “But I don't spend my time thinking about what might have happened.”

“Yeah, you're too practical for that,” Prompto says, fondly.

“And maybe,” Ignis continues, the corners of his mouth almost twitching into a smile, “I'm just a touch too busy with the here and now.”

His fingers now toy with the hair at the nape of Prompto's neck, drawing a small shiver from him; he's sure Ignis can feel the movement beneath his hand. “Well, there is a lot going on,” he agrees.

At this, Ignis actually laughs. It's soft, but a genuine laugh all the same. “I mean specifically with you.”

“Oh.”

Ignis leans in closer, his lips finding Prompto's forehead, and presses a soft kiss there, sweet and affectionate. Prompto wonders if Ignis can feel the blush that spreads across the back of his neck.

“I am truly happy for Gladio, that he's found someone, and I hope they can make it through this darkness together,” Ignis continues, a little more serious now. “It was a long time ago now, and I don't hold it against Gladio. Besides, it's not the same as the relationship you and Noctis have.”

Ignis' words sink in slowly through Prompto's mind, and they take him by surprise when he realises. It hits him suddenly, had he not made his feelings for Ignis clear? “Had,” he says quickly, feeling a little panicked. “Had. Ignis...Iggy, you don't think I'm just, j-just...” Prompto can't say it, has never even entertained the thought before.

“With me while you wait for Noct to return?” Ignis offers, and the laugh he let's out this time is a little bitter, an unusual sound to come from Ignis, and it's his turn to look uncertain and vulnerable. Prompto hates it. “I must admit, the thought has crossed my mind.” He turns his face away from Prompto's, his own way of looking away.

Prompto pulls his hand from Ignis', and reaches forward, pulls Ignis towards him into a tight hug. He hates the idea that he's hurt Ignis somehow, even without meaning to. This thing between them they had fallen into, and it had been so easy, after that first kiss, so simple to fall into something more. “Y-you're more to me than that,” Prompto says, almost fiercely, his face pressed against Ignis' neck. “We mean more than that.”

He feels Ignis' hands shake a little as they reach around him, find purchase at Prompto's waist.

“I'm not here with you to pass the time,” he continues, his voice shaking less as his conviction rises, wanting Ignis to be able to hear in his voice how much he means everything he's saying. “I'm not waiting for Noct to come back. Well, I am,” he says, before realising how it sounds, and quickly adds, “but only like we all are! For him to come back and get rid of the daemons and bring the sun back. I'm not, I'm not waiting for us.” He let's out a small, choked sob, against his will, and he feels Ignis push him away a little, just enough that they're able to face each other again.

“Prompto?” He asks, voice quiet and concerned.

Prompto doesn't mean to cry, he really doesn't, but it's not something he's ever spoken about before, not with anyone, and it's as if voicing his thoughts out loud break that dam he'd built up against any tears. “I don't want to, I don't know, make less of what me and Noct had together, you know?” He says, trying to ignore how his emotions are betraying him a little now. But Ignis remains calm, and listens to him quietly. “Because I loved him, I really did. And it's not like I don't love him anymore, really, but it's not the same, and it hasn't been for years. He's gone, and we're not.” He sniffs, wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. He's not very good with voicing these feelings, especially when he's not had a chance to really think them through. Poor Ignis has become victim to his jumble of words, it seems.

“I just. In the end,” he says, “I accepted a long time ago that me and Noct wouldn't get a happily ever after, or whatever, and I'm okay with that.” Prompto pulls in a deep breath, before he continues. “I want him back, we all want him to come back. But y-you're not a replacement. You're you, and it's...” his cheeks begin to flush a little, and he wonders if he's saying too much. “Uh, well. It's you, I want.”

Ignis is quiet for a moment, before he reaches out, hands finding Prompto's face, before cupping his cheeks, thumbs rubbing in slow, gentle circles against his flushed skin. “Perhaps we should have spoken about this sooner,” he says, and now there's no sound of bitterness or uncertainty in Ignis' voice, a relief to Prompto. “Forgive me, love, for doubting your intentions.”

As nice as the closeness is, Prompto kind of wishes that he could hide, he feels ridiculous even for the small amount of tears; he's older now, there shouldn't be any need for them, he thinks. But Ignis doesn't seem to mind, as he simply wipes the dampness from Prompto's cheeks.

“No, I'm sorry,” Prompto insists, his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of Ignis' shirt. “I never meant to make you think I was just passing the time.”

“I'm afraid the blame for that is entirely on me.” And now it's Ignis' turn to look as if he wants to hide.

“I don't understand?”

Ignis sighs, and the vulnerability is back. It still takes Prompto by surprise, to see these sides to Ignis that he's never seen before. For years he was simply Noct's stuffy advisor, and then he became a companion and a friend, and their time together since the darkness began had shown Prompto even more sides to Ignis too, the comfort and the care that he could offer. But there's more still that he's learning about Ignis all the time, like the easy affection, and now the pet names. It makes sense, Ignis has always been professional and reserved, but there's something to seeing him in these private moments that makes Prompto's heart swell, even if this particular moment also squeezes his heart with pain.

His hands move, slide from Prompto's face, to rest lightly on his shoulders. It takes him several long moments to speak again, and when Ignis does, the words feel heavy, as if he's pulling them from within himself with a struggle, something that's difficult to admit. “I suppose,” he starts, his face tilted a little from Prompto's direction, “that I simply assumed you couldn't possibly want me, as I am, for long.”

The squeezing of Prompto's heart increases to an almost physical pain, and he feels as if he needs to gasp for air. He knows he's grown, even if it's just a little bit, when he stops, and thinks before he speaks. He doesn't want Ignis to think that what he feels is pity, because it's not, and he doesn't want to hurt Ignis any further. “If anyone gets self-esteem issues, it's me,” he finally settles on saying, tries to come from a place of understanding, although he's desperate to show Ignis how wrong he is. “You know? Going from being the fat loner kid at school, to the useless idiot in a group of highly competent men.” Ignis makes as if to interrupt, but Prompto continues, “I get it. But you're not any less you, after what happened. Or any less desirable.”

He was doing so well, but being so honest always has a tendency to make Prompto blush and feel awkward, and the same happens to him now. If he's not imagining things, there seems to be just a hint of colour also, across the top of Ignis' cheeks.

“I know you wouldn't lie to me,” Ignis says, sounding less sure than he usually does, and he doesn't finish the thought. Prompto gets the impression that Ignis remains unconvinced by what he'd said.

So instead of words, Prompto decides that maybe it's better to show Ignis. Uncurling one of his hands, he presses it to Ignis' face, and leans in close until Prompto's kissing him. There's a definite heat to the kiss, almost desperation on Prompto's part, to prove his words and feelings are true, to make Ignis feel desired. He pulls Ignis closer, trails his tongue along Ignis' lower lip, before deepening the kiss. He feels Ignis gasp, a breath of warm air, against his lips. They kiss until they're breathless, but Prompto doesn't pull back far when they pause, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath.

Ignis is still wearing his tinted glasses. Prompto reaches up, hands resting lightly on the side of Ignis' face, not wanting to do anything to make Ignis uncomfortable. “Can I?” Prompto asks. He's seen Ignis without the glasses before, but he knows that the other man is still self-conscious about his scars, and it feels more meaningful in this moment.

“I don't see why you would want to,” Ignis says, his voice a little shaky. But he gives Prompto a small nod of permission.

Prompto takes hold of the glasses, removes them gently from Ignis' face, and sets them carefully aside on the small coffee table beside them.

“You're beautiful,” he says, voice full of sincerity, as he just takes in Ignis' face. The scars aren't pleasant, and only serve to remind Prompto of the pain the injuries must have caused Ignis at the time, and long after, but they don't detract from how handsome he is, they don't stop Ignis from being Ignis.

Ignis let's out a harsh breath, and Prompto feels fingers press into his hips. “I may be unable to see, but I can certainly feel. Beautiful is not the word.”

The idea hits Prompto hard, as he imagines Ignis in the dark, fingers moving across his own face, mapping the changes, trying to visualise them.

“It is the word,” Prompto insists, before he leans in, and presses a gentle kiss, barely a touch of his lips, to Ignis' closed eye. This time, he hears Ignis pull in a breath. “Let me show you.”

Prompto takes hold of Ignis' hand, pulls him up from the couch, and carefully leads him to the bedroom.

“You know, Prompto, no one ever thought of you as useless,” Ignis says, as he follows Prompto into the room.

“That,” Prompto declares, tugging Ignis' shirt off, “is a conversation for another time.”

“I won't forget it,” Ignis all but threatens, hands going to Prompto's waist, pulling him close, as they kiss.

“I'll try and make you forget,” Prompto promises, as they part. “Bed's half a metre away,” he warns, though Ignis moves with confidence around the well known room.

“An interesting proposition.”

Fill 6/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

They fall onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and lips and hands.

Their lovemaking is different, tonight, from how it's been before. Prompto's desperate to show Ignis just what he means to him. It's slow, when Prompto's body meets with Ignis', when the breath leaves both of their bodies. Slow, and soft, and though there's no denying the passion they share, it's a steady burn. The kisses they swap are tender, the touches to each other's bodies gentle and thoughtful, as if committing everything their fingers touch to memory. They take their time, and it's a delicious build up of heat, desire uncoiling slowly low in Prompto's body. He just wants to make sure that Ignis feels loved.

Ignis' skin feels flushed beneath the press of his fingers, light noises escaping from Ignis' mouth with every steady push of Prompto's hips. The undoing of the both of them is gradual, a leisurely heat that continues to build up between them both, until neither of them can take anymore.

Prompto finds himself whispering nonsensical words of affection to Ignis, calls him beautiful, as Prompto finally comes undone with another meeting of their hips, feels himself shudder deeply against Ignis.

He feels Ignis' own undoing, right in his very hand, fingers moving over flushed skin, and the thought sends Prompto's head spinning further out of orbit than it already is.

Fingers brush softly across his face, over his flushed, sweaty skin, and Prompto leans into the hand that cups his cheek.

“So are you, love,” Ignis whispers breathlessly.

They pull each other close, arms tightly around each other's bodies, as they simply lay there and breathe, warm and comfortable in each other's presence.

That night is another shift in their relationship, into something deeper, something that is simply more.

Prompto doesn't know what the future will bring, what might happen, and how long they could end up waiting for Noctis to return and help them banish the darkness for good. But, he realises that the one thing he's always been good at is keeping on. Despite all else that's happened, and might still happen, he's always been able to push through and keep going.

So he'll do that, with Ignis, with his warmth and comfort as Prompto's source of guiding light within the darkness.


---

(There we go, OP, sorry it took so long to finish, this behemoth became bigger than I expected and I messed up with my post count there! It didn't turn out quite like I intended but I hope you like it all the same? I just really love your prompt, and promnis, and I have a lot of feelings about them! I hope I did your prompt justice! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write about them like this!)

Re: Fill 6/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

OP - Whoo! *sniffle* You had me crying at the end there, author anon. Ignis' insecurity and Prompto's response to it was so lovely and simple and not overdone at all. It was perfect.

All of it was perfect. The slow build in their relationship just felt so... cozy, idk. I pretty much accept this as the One True Headcanon of how things went down now.

Thank youuuu~ <3

Re: Fill 6/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

a!a - Oh my goodness, I'm glad you were crying and not gagging from any potential cheesiness, because I was a bit worried there! I'm so pleased you enjoyed it though, I had a lot of fun writing for them, and ugh, UGH, in my head they are so good and perfect and if I could even get a little of that across then I am satisfied! Thank you so so much for your kind words! Ahhh, you're welcome!! :D

Re: Fill 5/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

“I suppose,” he starts, his face tilted a little from Prompto's direction, “that I simply assumed you couldn't possibly want me, as I am, for long.”

This line broke my heart, anon ;_;

Re: Fill 5/6: Prompto/Noct & Gladio/Ignis becomes Prompto/Ignis during the Long Dark

[(Anonymous)]

I'm sorry, anon, there's no way to write about that Dark Time without breaking a few hearts! ;~; BUT don't worry, Prompto will be there every step of the way, making sure Ignis feels loved and adored and desired! They'll get there!