Prompto wakes up with his hands tied behind his back. He's on his side, on Noctis's bed. His head hurts.
Noctis is at the foot of the bed, his head in his hands.
Prompto lets out a low moan. "You put me through the Armiger." Because blue equals Noctis's magic. And Noctis uses the Armiger to warp. He used the Armiger to warp Prompto.
Noctis startles. His eyes are wide and dark and red-rimmed.
"You're insane!" Prompto wails. "You're insane, let me go, let me go-"
"Shut up!" Noctis yells. Prompto's never heard Noctis yell before. A prince doesn't yell, doesn't raise his voice above the appropriate volume. "Astrals, Prompto- shut up, please."
There's the fear again. Prompto goes quiet, doesn't say anything. He listens to Noctis's shaky breathing. The terror rises like Leviathan herself is inside his body, churning him to mush. He's pretty sure he can't move.
Noctis lets out a small, wet noise. Prompto feels sad, all of a sudden, amidst the bone-cold fear.
"Noctis," he says. "Come here."
Noctis is all over him in a matter of seconds, hauling Prompto into his lap and crying into his uniform in wet, ugly little hiccups.
"Don't cry," Prompto hears himself saying in a tiny, weak voice. "Noct, don't cry."
It's not a very good kiss, as far as kisses go. Everything is wet and salty and their teeth clack together painfully.
Still, Noctis makes a low throbbing sound into Prompto's mouth, licks his lips and goes in for more, his tongue thick and hot and yes, please, more.
Noct's hands are trembling. Prompto moans and Noct sighs into the side of his neck, kisses down Prompto's throat to his collarbone, his mouth burning like a brand.
Noct's palms slide up his shirt. Prompto tugs against his restraints, pleads in a high shaking voice that he can't recognise as his own, "Untie me, please, Noct," and Noctis says, his hands warm and calloused from training, sliding across his ribs, "No."
"I'll keep you here," Noct says, with Prompto writhing into his touch, his hands, his mouth. "I'll keep you here forever, you're mine, Gods, you're mine, I'll take care of you-"
No, Prompto moans, no no no no, and Noctis digs his claws in, hooks his nails into Prompto and drags him down down down.
Re: Fill: i got the debts, i'm a debaser [3/?]
Noctis is at the foot of the bed, his head in his hands.
Prompto lets out a low moan. "You put me through the Armiger." Because blue equals Noctis's magic. And Noctis uses the Armiger to warp. He used the Armiger to warp Prompto.
Noctis startles. His eyes are wide and dark and red-rimmed.
"You're insane!" Prompto wails. "You're insane, let me go, let me go-"
"Shut up!" Noctis yells. Prompto's never heard Noctis yell before. A prince doesn't yell, doesn't raise his voice above the appropriate volume. "Astrals, Prompto- shut up, please."
There's the fear again. Prompto goes quiet, doesn't say anything. He listens to Noctis's shaky breathing. The terror rises like Leviathan herself is inside his body, churning him to mush. He's pretty sure he can't move.
Noctis lets out a small, wet noise. Prompto feels sad, all of a sudden, amidst the bone-cold fear.
"Noctis," he says. "Come here."
Noctis is all over him in a matter of seconds, hauling Prompto into his lap and crying into his uniform in wet, ugly little hiccups.
"Don't cry," Prompto hears himself saying in a tiny, weak voice. "Noct, don't cry."
"Don't leave," Noctis begs. "Please, Prompto, please please please."
Prompto says, "I'm not going to leave."
Noctis kisses him.
It's not a very good kiss, as far as kisses go. Everything is wet and salty and their teeth clack together painfully.
Still, Noctis makes a low throbbing sound into Prompto's mouth, licks his lips and goes in for more, his tongue thick and hot and yes, please, more.
Noct's hands are trembling. Prompto moans and Noct sighs into the side of his neck, kisses down Prompto's throat to his collarbone, his mouth burning like a brand.
Noct's palms slide up his shirt. Prompto tugs against his restraints, pleads in a high shaking voice that he can't recognise as his own, "Untie me, please, Noct," and Noctis says, his hands warm and calloused from training, sliding across his ribs, "No."
"I'll keep you here," Noct says, with Prompto writhing into his touch, his hands, his mouth. "I'll keep you here forever, you're mine, Gods, you're mine, I'll take care of you-"
No, Prompto moans, no no no no, and Noctis digs his claws in, hooks his nails into Prompto and drags him down down down.