Chapter Text
Ignis has had crushes before.
That Scribe from Tenebrae when he was fifteen, the one Glaive that can warp even better than Noct can and those Gods forsaken few weeks when he’d been infatuated with his tailor of all people.
Ignis has had dalliances too, his service to Noct and the Crown hasn’t rendered him completely chaste. But nothing that matters.
Nothing like this.
Prompto passes him the empty casserole dish and then put his hand onto Ignis forearm. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to stop them getting wet and Ignis has the absent thought that it might be the first time their bare skin has ever touched.
“Thanks for dinner, Iggy,” Prompto says and Ignis turns to him just to see his smile push wide enough to crinkle the corner of his blue blue eyes.
Ignis’ hands fumble and he drops the dish, sending a cascade of water up and over, drenching Prompto’s stomach and thighs.
There’s a beat of silence and then Prompto breaks into peals of laughter, even as Ignis begins to apologise.
“I’m so sorry, Prompto. I'm sorry, here, let me -”
Ignis grasps for a clean, dry cloth and fold it in half pressing it firmly against the damp fabric clinging to Prompto’s firm stomach. The intimacy of the gesture catches up with him and he feels his face grow hot. He should let got but then Prompto will be left sopping wet and it’ll make it too obvious that he -
Prompto’s laugh dies down and he shakes off his wet arm and reaches to take the towel from Ignis’ hand.
“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto assures him, still smiling, “Hey, Noct,” he calls without looking away from Ignis’ face. Ignis’ hands hover, wanting to help, but unsure what to do without actively wiping down Prompto’s thighs or some other nonsense.
The noise of Noct’s latest console platformer pauses and Noctis responds, graceful as ever, “Huh?”
Prompto touches Ignis’ forearm again as he steps around him to show Noctis his front.
“Can I borrow some clothes, Dude? Iggy tsunami’d me.”
“Huh,” Noctis says again in a wildly different tone but Ignis drowns it out with his own apology.
“I’m so sorry Prompto, I’ll wash them -”
“Igs,” Prompto says, cutting him off, “It’s cool. No biggie.”
Noctis laughs, just a little and he waves Prompto towards his bedroom.
“Take anything you like,” Noctis tells his friend, “But then you have to come help with this ridiculous sewer level.”
“Sweet deal,” Prompto says shooting a quick finger gun at Noct and trotting away.
When the door has clicked closed Noctis turns a little to be facing Ignis full on. Their eyes meet and Noctis raises one eyebrow slowly, laughing softly.
“What?” Ignis demands, just shy of snapping.
“Nothing,” Noctis says lightly turning back to his game, “Nothing at all.”
- - -
Ignis manages to rouse Noctis fairly early considering it’s a Saturday, Noct’s self assigned day of rest after a week of school and training and council reports.
Noctis yawns, cutting it off by shoving the last bite of his pre-breakfast muffin into his mouth. The sweet smell of the muffins were, in fact, what had successfully pulled the prince from the comfort of his room.
“Blah, blah, blah,” Noct mutters flipping a page, “What happened to the nice little summaries you used to write for me?”
Ignis buries his smile in his coffee.
“This is a summary, would be that you’d attended the entire meeting itself,” Ignis teases and Noctis groans.
The door to Noct’s apartment opens noisily and Prompto stumbles through red-faced, excited and dewy with perspiration.
Ignis swallows. It must be loud, because Noct glances at him sideways.
“Good morning!” Prompto greets brightly, all but skipping forward with a literal spring in his step despite his early morning excursion.
Ignis has no chance of hiding his smile this time.
“Good morning, Prompto,” Ignis greets for the two of them because Noctis is busy yawning again.
While Prompto finishes his approach Ignis turns to start gathering the ingredients necessary to put together a hearty breakfast for three. The boys have a busy gaming schedule ahead of them today after all.
He’s missed something while he’s in the fridge as Prompto is giggling to himself and Noct is scowling when he turns around, reaching out to halfheartedly kick Prompto in the leg. Prompto side steps the assault easily then slings and arm over Noct’s shoulder to hold him still while he ruffles his hair.
“Ugh,” Noctis groans, shoving him away, “You’re gross and unusually chipper this morning, I hate you.”
Prompto only laughs more but Ignis is scandalised.
“Noctis,” he scolds, starting to chop mushrooms for his and Prompto’s breakfasts.
“It’s okay Iggy, he can’t bring me down today. I took four second off my pace for ten miles this morning.”
“Congratulations,” Ignis says over the sound of Noctis’ fake gagging.
“I am kinda gross though,” Prompto admits sounding a touch self-conscious.
Ignis looks up, to assure Prompto that he could never be gross, but falters when he sees that Prompto has lifted the front of his shirt to dab away some of the perspiration at his throat displaying the flat, smooth muscles of his lower abdomen.
They tense and flex with Prompto’s gasp.
“Iggy!”
Ignis’ finger hurts and he looks down to see blood blooming across the chopping board.
Noctis stands, the stool scraping back noisily.
“Did you just - Specs did you just cut yourself?”
- - -
Prompto’s so smooth beneath him, all clean lines and strong pale bare limbs that he keeps wrapping around Ignis every time he ducks in close enough.
“You feel so good,” the blond pants, arching up underneath him with a moan.
Ignis moves harder, presses deeper and Prompto cries out, digging his fingernails into Ignis’ hips.
“Prompto,” Ignis moans, “I want -”
The alarm blares loudly and Ignis reaches out to turn it off more forcefully than he would normally.
He’s lying on his front, alone of course, hips pushing desperately into his mattress. Ignis presses his face into his pillow and groans. He’s still hard, painfully so, pulsing beneath his pyjamas.
What happens next is unavoidable.
Sometimes he can get rid of it with a brisk cold shower and iron will but today he's helpless to stop himself from bracing against the tiled wall and trying to think of something, anything other than freckles and blue eyes as he works himself up and over underneath the warm spray of his shower.
- - -
The drive to Prompto’s house is short but there’s still plenty of time for Noctis to drop off in his seat before Ignis even pulls the car into the always empty driveway and cut the engine.
“I’ll get the pipsqueak,” Gladio says laughing a little, “Unless you’re desperate for twelve second of privacy.”
Ignis tightens his hands on the steering wheel. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ignis says formally.
“Uh huh,” Gladio says sarcastically.
-
It’s unusually bright for September, the sun beating down but a breeze keeping the temperature from becoming unbearable.
Ignis bought a thermos of hot coffee with him but he's sucking down chilled Ebony in it’s place.
Ignis has shed his blazer though and rolled up his shirt sleeves to enjoy the warmth properly; nothing next to Gladio who is now brazenly without even his tank top as he sits reading a trashy romance novel in a camp chair beside Noct, encouraging and teasing the Prince in equal measure as he reels in a catch or fails to do so.
The pond is secluded enough that Ignis can almost imagine they're outside the wall. A copse of trees shelters them from the noise of the road, a pebbled bank gives way to a small but attractive meadow still blooming colourfully in the mildness of early autumn. Unfortunately the incessant pinging of work emails to his phone truly prevents him from imagining the seclusion but the early autumn sunlight and company is pleasant enough.
Prompto’s been fluttering in and out of view all morning, content to intermittently chase perfect pictures and entertain Noct when he's needed. A while ago he’d shed his hoodie on the chair Gladio had put out for him and stopped by Ignis to give him a good natured scolding for actually working on his phone before disappearing into the meadow trying to stealthily chase a brightly coloured bird with his camera.
Ignis can sort of see him now, crouching low, bright hair lit up by the sun. He seems content so Ignis is happy to leave him be for now, wondering idly if he should start putting together the sandwiches he prepped this morning. Setting aside his own book Ignis stretches and wanders over towards the small fishing platform in time to see Noct snatch up his rod as a fish takes the bait.
“We’re gonna fish this place dry,” Gladio comments and Noctis reels.
It wouldn’t even be true were Noctis not returning most of the fish he catches, but its a very Gladio thing to say; encouraging without being too sincere. A few sizeable specimen are coming home for Ignis to cook up for dinner tonight.
“Good job, Noct,” Ignis praises as he holds up a very pretty but completely inedible species of bluegill.
Noctis turns to him to gift him a smile, perhaps a little bashful before unhooking his prize and carefully releasing it back into the pond.
“What’s up, Iggy?” Noct asks him when he straightens back up.
“I was just coming over to see if you were getting hungry.”
Gladio shrugs, “I can always eat.”
“Of course,” Ignis says dryly, “Noct?”
“I’m ready for lunch, yeah. Shall I go get Prom?”
Noctis hops up onto his tip toes to try and look for his friend but rocks back with a small frown when he doesn’t spot him. Ignis turns to look too but Prompto seems to have vanished into the taller grass.
“I’ll get him,” Gladio says tossing aside his book with little care, “You help Iggy with lunch, Noct.”
“I guess,” Noctis agrees so wearily you might have thought he’d been asked to attend a twelve hour lecture on amphibian biology instead.
Noct washes up with some fresh water then begins to butter bread a little haphazardly following Ignis instruction.
“Prompto!” Ignis hears Gladio yell prompting the frightened squawk of birds taking flight.
Quieter from further away sounds, “What did you do that for?” in Prompto’s whine followed by Gladio’s hearty laugh.
Ignis attention is caught a few minutes later to the sound of their footsteps to see them walking side by side, Gladio cradling one of Prompto’s lean arms in his large hands and prodding at his shoulder.
“I didn’t notice until you mentioned it but now it hurts,” Prompto says.
Ignis stares, taking in the shape of Prompto’s arms, the biceps slim but with obvious muscle, the signature wristband at the end, the adorable smattering of freckles that concentrates on the shoulder and spreads down like constellations.
The redness.
Ignis look up at Prompto’s face to see an unfamiliar redness across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, deeper than his frequent embarrassed flush.
“Only you,” Gladio says but the tease is soft.
“Ouch,” Noct says leaning over to poke at Prompto’s arm himself. The skin goes ghost white under his finger for a brief moment and returns to scarlet quickly when he releases it.
Prompto slaps at his hand, “Dude.”
“It’s September,” Noctis says quietly sounding awestruck.
“Come here,” Ignis says, “I have some sunscreen in the bag -”
“Always prepared,” chimes Gladio.
“- and we’ll apply some aloe vera when we get back to Noct’s.”
Prompto puts on a pout as he comes closer but Ignis knows him well enough to know that its mostly exaggerated.
Ignis pulls the bottle from the bag containing their ‘just in case’ supplies - a spare set of clothes suitable for either Prompto or Noctis, a full sized first aid kit, folding umbrellas, bug spray and the now very much needed sun screen.
Ignis removes his gloves, “Do you want some assistance?” he asks.
Prompto bops his head in affirmation then reaches up to touch his fingertips to his cheeks, “It’s warm,” he says like he was expecting different.
Prompto accepts a generous handful of the lotion, spreading it over his arms allowing Ignis to gently hold his chin with his thumb and forefinger while he applies it to his face, taking extra care across the apple of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose where the damage is worst.
“Tickles,” Prompto says and his eyelids flutter, long and pale over his cheeks.
When he sighs his breath wafts warm over Ignis’ fingers and he lets go quickly, reaching blindly for something - anything - on the camp table to distract himself but only managing to successfully knock over his completely full can of Ebony.
“Oops,” Prompto laughs and reaches quickly to right it before it can to spread as far as the bread.
Ignis’ face feels hot and judging from Gladio’s laugh and Noct’s smirk no one will believe him if he tries to blame the sun for that too.
-
It takes some wheedling but between the three of them they convince Prompto into a cool shower, the slightly too late sunscreen and an afternoon in the shade - enjoyable, for Ignis at least, being introduced to a cooking based mobile game - not quite saving Prompto from further burning.
Ignis is cooking the fish and resolutely not staring at where Gladio is now rubbing copious amount of aloe across the back of shirtless Prompto’s neck and shoulders. Noct stands in front of him watching Prompto spread it across his face himself.
Prompto came out of the bathroom with his wristband back in place, intriguing as ever, if not completely unsurprising. Ignis had asked Noct about it once and promptly been told to never ask about it again. Noctis said he didn’t know himself but he’d asked at the start of their friendship and it had made Prompto skittish for days.
“More on your nose,” Noct says.
Ignis risks a glance up just in time to see Gladio step to the side revealing the tantalising dip at the base of Prompto’s spine above the slightly too large waistband of Noct’s borrowed sweatpants.
Prompto has freckles everywhere. As Ignis draws his eyes up Prompto’s spine they increase in frequency, sparse dots turning into bright little clusters at his shoulder blades, vibrant even under the deep redness burned there today. Ignis already knew this theoretically, he’s even already seen his arms this very day, but every time he notices, sees more, he can’t help but stare, his mouth going dry.
Noctis sniffs.
“Um, Ignis?”
Ignis blinks and moves his gaze to the bewildered face of his charge.
“Yes?”
“Is the fish burning?”
Yes. Yes, it is.
Prompto, the dear, helps him peel off the burnt skin and Ignis whips up a simple sauce that covers the minor taste that’s worked through the flesh and has the added bonus of making even steamed broccoli palatable to Noct.
- - -
“Dude, no, come on,” Noct is saying as Ignis opens the door to his apartment, “Don’t you’re being stupid.”
Ignis makes his way into the living room just as Prompto’s swinging his backpack on to his back.
Apparently, Prompto is leaving.
“I already know I’m stupid Noct, okay, you don’t gotta tell me,” Prompto argues.
He’s flushed, tired looking - exhausted - and suffering a crisis of confidence.
It’s not really a secret that Prompto’s pool of self esteem doesn’t run particularly deep but he’s usually much better at pretending otherwise. Ignis has certainly never heard him call himself stupid before. Dumb on occasion but usually with a laugh and a smile to lessen the severity of his words.
“Prom,” Noctis says gently, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Ignis almost hears Prompto’s uneasy swallow from across the room.
“I gotta go,” Prompto mumbles.
He turns slightly then and spots Ignis for the first time, stopping dead briefly before continuing on.
“Oh, Ignis, hey,” Prompto says quietly, moving past him.
“Leaving so soon?” Ignis asks, following and hoping beyond hope that he can find something to say or do to cheer him up before his vanishes.
“Uh huh,” Prompto says, without looking at him.
“I can’t tempt you with dinner?” Ignis tries, “I just picked up some daggerquill -”
“I’ve got shit to do, Ignis,” Prompto says. Still without even looking at him.
“Prompto…” Darling, he wants to say, what’s wrong? Let me help you.
Prompto exhales, his shoulders slump and Ignis thinks he might just turn around, that his stubbornness has fled. But alas -
“Iggy - Ignis, sorry I’ve just - I gotta go.”
Ignis stares at the closed front door for maybe a full minute before forcing himself to move into the living space.
“Can you get a teacher fired?” Noctis blurts before Ignis can say anything.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A teacher. Can you get them fired?” Noct reiterates.
“Why ever would I do that?” Ignis asks.
Noctis frowns. “You just saw Prom, yeah?”
Ignis blinks twice before the information sinks in properly.
“A teacher did that? How? Did they - did they tell him he was stupid?”
“Our normal art teacher is out on maternity and the cover she’s - well she’s a fucking bigot,” Noctis explain face tensing with anger.
“Tell me what happened?” Ignis demands, settling himself onto the couch so he doesn’t start pacing.
“Prompto was printing some pictures for our project and he only has the one memory card, y’know?”
Ignis nods, he does know. There’s a small stack of new, fresh ones in his desk drawer but he hasn’t found a way to give them to Prompto in a way the blond will find palatable.
“So she asked to see how he was getting on with his project but to show her the pictures he had to sort through all the stuff he has on there and she just like zeroed in all the casual stuff he has like selfies and the ones of us from the fishing trip…”
Ignis doesn’t understand how this could make her a bigot but he waits patiently for Noct to explain.
“So she just lays into him about taking things more seriously and not, like -” Noct flushes, anger and embarrassment clear, “- using my face or something to garner favour. And he has these, progress pictures I guess? That he takes, like, of his body. He’s not naked,” Noct rushes to clarify.
Ignis nods again, feeling dread slither up his spine.
“And she made it full sized and pointed at it, so of course everyone turned to look and he’s so shy, Iggy, he hates the attention - but she was just like saying how she didn’t know how things were where he was from but in Lucis bringing vulgar, vulgar, material in to school was ground for expulsion.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Ignis sputters, “She had no right to look at his private pictures.”
That must have been awful for Prompto, upsetting in the extreme, potentially traumatic perhaps. This weekend was the first time he’s ever seen Prompto fully without his shirt on and they've known each other three years now, slept in the same apartment several times. Usually, when he’s changing, he firmly locks himself away in the bathroom to get into his pyjamas or change out of his apron and polo from the diner.
“I know -”
“Additionally, Prompto is a legal registered citizen of Insomnia -”
“I know, Iggy.”
Ignis swallows. “No wonder he’s so upset.”
“He had a rough day over all,” Noctis says, “Talked about dropping art completely next semester.”
“He loves art,” Ignis says, horrified.
Noct nods. “They cancelled a bunch of his shifts at the diner, so he was already stressed about money,” Noctis further explains, “And then he tried to show her his actual project and she just blew him off, said he was wasting her time, and now he wants to change it. But Ignis it’s so good. He was so excited about it just this morning, was gonna show it to you this afternoon. Look.”
Noctis gestures to the coffee table and Ignis sees for the first time a small pile of photographs.
Taking them in hand Ignis looks and sees a series of beautiful grey-scale photos depicting Insomnian architecture where natures has managed to take back space - ivy across a window, moss in between bricks, a small flower growing proud through a crack in the pavement - but with the greens, the reds, the yellows picked out in blinding colours.
“These are wonderful,” Ignis murmurs and he switches to the next photograph somewhat shocked to find a print of the four of them, standing shoulder to shoulder, arms looped around each other on the edge of the fishing pond, smiles bright.
“Oh,” Ignis says. He moves to the next one and its another copy.
“I made him print two,” Noct says, “You’re welcome.”
“I - thank you.”
“I know it’s not the cutesy little couple photo you want but I figured it would brighten up your office all the same.”
Ignis scowls, “You’re a brat.” Ignis doesn’t bother to deny it, not any more. What’s the point?
Noctis laughs, “Yeah yeah, tell me something new for a change.”
Ignis stands and makes his way to the kitchen, seeing as it really is time for him to start dinner so he has some time to check through Noct’s homework before he heads home. He thought he’d be checking Prompto’s too, helping him through the trickier parts of chemistry he doesn't catch as easily.
Ignis is distracted as he cooks, measuring twice the amount of water than he needs for the rice - he’ll just make extra for the week - and dicing the daggerquill rather than slicing it into strips like he’d planned.
“Noct,” he calls, unable to help himself and self aware enough to know what the problem is, “Will you text Prompto? Please, just to check -”
“He got home okay,” Noctis tells him.
“And is he -”
“He said he was gonna do homework and then I think he turned off his phone.”
“Alright,” Ignis says, even though its anything but.
“Ignis?”
“Yes?”
“About that teacher?” Noct hedges.
“I’ll handle it,” Ignis promises.
- - -
Ignis goes straight to the Citadel after dropping Noctis as school, disturbed but not panicked that Prompto isn’t waiting at the gate for them. He’s not always there, on days he runs he’s often running a little late and if Ignis knows Prompto’s schedule - which he does - today was a running day.
Ignis has a phone call to make this morning.
He’d spent quite sometime last night pulling up previous references for this so called art teacher that’s been upsetting his - his Prompto.
Ignis has no right to call Prompto his anything and he never will. Prompto deserves more than someone all but married to their job. Deserves someone who’s able to put his well being before that of Noct’s, especially considering that Prompto already exists in a universe where he constantly plays second fiddle to his best friend.
Ignis can’t be everything that Prompto deserves, but he can do this for him, at least.
In the end Ignis felt he had gathered enough information to have her removed from the school. Reports from former students of similar discrimination and even records in their own files of complaints from student and staff alike. Hopefully at Ignis’ urging they’ll make the decision they probably should have made a while ago.
His phone vibrates noisily on his desk.
[Noctis 09:31] can u pick us up from school today pls
Ignis frowns, both at the abhorrent text speak and the question. Ignis is technically always available for Noctis immediately after school but the allure of Ignis’ car has rather faded in the years since his friendship with Prompto blossomed, their afternoon walks a happy reprieve from his usual life. There’s nothing stopping Ignis from taking the work he was planning to do back to Noct’s apartment, however.
[Ignis 09:34] I’ll meet you by the front gate at 3pm. I assume by ‘we’ you mean Prompto is in need of a ride home too?
How is he? He types, then deletes it.
[Noctis 09:36] thnx. prom hurt his ankle on his run this morning. says he’s fine but he’s limping. dont want him to walk home.
Ignis tamps down the frisson of alarm that the words ‘Prom’ and ‘hurt’ combine to cause, focusing instead on the problem at hand. Prompto must be fine enough or Noctis would be demanding an immediate pick up for his friend - and himself, if he could wing it.
[Ignis 9:40] I’ll try and get him excused from gym. I have a phone call to make anyway.
[Noctis 09:41] do you like have our schedules memorised or sum shit? weirdo
Ignis shouldn’t really smile, but he does.
[Ignis 09:43] Of course I do.
[Ignis 09:44] Now put your phone away and pay attention to your math teacher, please.
No more messages immediately come through so Ignis makes his phone call. He’s focuses on excusing Prompto from gym first - the more immediate, pressing concern - and is pleased that the administrator agrees easily. Ignis isn’t Prompto’s guardian of course - thank the Gods - but apparently Noctis had barged into the nurses office first thing demanding an icepack, meaning the school were already acutely aware of the situation.
Ignis ends up talking to the Principal himself, who apologises for any distress this may have caused Noctis while simpering about how grateful they are to have him bless their school. Ignis almost hangs up the phone. Not because Noct doesn’t deserve the respect but because he’s rather missed the point.
Regardless, he agrees and Ignis hangs up the phone feeling content again for the first time in eighteen hours.
Ignis is heading into a council meeting - regarding the curriculum of all things - when his phone buzzes again.
[Noctis 12:51] just saw her carrying boxes to her car. thnx iggy ur the best <3
[Prompto 12:56] Did you get me out of gym? (/ε＼*) I’m sorry you had to waste time on me but thanks ＾ω＾
I’d do anything for you. He deletes the message and tries again.
You’re never a waste of time. Ignis bites his lip as he erases and tries to think of what to say.
The phone buzzes again and startled, Ignis almost drops it, Gladio walking beside him poorly turns his laugh into a cough.
A picture of Prompto fills the screen, still exhausted but smiling in a way that almost lights up his eyes like usual and Ignis’ own mouth pulls up slightly at one side. Prompto’s angled the picture so that over his shoulder he can see where Noct and the rest of his classmates are running sprints.
Ignis saves the picture and messages back:
[Ignis 13:04] You’re most welcome.
-
Prompto could never be described as sulky but he’s obviously put out by his injury, limping obviously but trying to hide it and he slumps into the front seat with a unmistakable noise of frustration.
“Are you alright?” Ignis asks hims quietly whilst Noctis makes his way into the back.
“Just tired,” Prompto mutters, not turning to look at him.
“Prom,” Noct says, oddly gentle, “It’ll be fine.”
Prompto sighs and doesn’t say anything.
Ignis meets Noct’s eye in the rear view mirror and Ignis shrugs feeling helpless.
“Hey,” the Prince says, “Come over and help me with the trig homework.”
Prompto straightens up a little but doesn’t turn back, just picks at a lose thread in his school trousers.
“I dunno,” he says quietly, “I should probably just go home.”
Noctis reaches between the seats to grip Prompto’s shoulder. “Please,” he says, voice lilting, “You’re so much more fun than Specs when you’re making me feel like a dumb idiot.”
Prompto’s mouth pulls up in a reluctant smile and he glances at Ignis who playfully rolls his eyes.
“As opposed to a smart idiot,” Prompto says and Ignis starts the engine, knowing it’s decided.
-
Gladio arrives while the boys are still studying, Noct’s already out of his uniform, of course, and Ignis coerced Prompto into propping his ankle up on a cushion on the coffee table in order to ice it. Gladio waves absently at Ignis but makes his way directly towards Prompto setting a back pack onto the couch at his side and kneeling to look at his foot.
“When does it hurt?” Gladio asks, uncovering it.
“Only when I put weight on it,” Prompto says and Gladio nods.
“Wear this bandage for a week then take it off but rest for another week before you go back out,” Gladio explains, reaching into the back pack and pulling out a couple compression bandages and beginning to test them against Prompto’s ankle.
“Two weeks!?” Prompto exclaims, the loudest he’s been all evening.
“Better to take two weeks than be out for two months because you do serious damage,” Gladio says patiently.
Prompto leans back against the couch and crosses his arms, for all intents and purposes, genuinely angry but also looking mostly like a disgruntled chocobo. Ignis wants to pet through Prompto’s hair to take the expression away and he finds himself having gravitated to the back of the couch without realising.
“It’s gonna throw off my pace,” Prompto says, “Or I won’t be ready at all and it’ll be a massive waste of money.”
“Prom,” Noctis says, “No, you’re gonna do great.”
Ignis doesn’t know what this is about and it’s plainly obvious he’s the only one and he can’t help himself for reaching for Prompto’s slim shoulder to get his attention.
“Whilst I agree with Noct’s sentiment…”
Prompto flushes but his arms uncross and he doesn’t look as angry. Guilt isn’t a particular favourite expression of Ignis’ either but at least Ignis can probably assuage this given a moment.
“I signed up for the Solstice marathon,” Prompto explains.
“Well that’s wonderful,” Ignis says honestly, “Noct is right, you’ll perform marvellously. Why didn’t you mention it before?”
Prompto shrugs and it reminds Ignis where his hand is so he removes it quickly and ignores the look Gladio shoots him.
“I didn’t know if I’d be able to afford it,” Prompto says and rushes on before Ignis can even begin to say that he - they - would have helped him, “And I knew that you’d just sign me up and pay for it and I didn’t want that but it was safe to tell Noct because he’s too lazy to do it -” “Hey!” “- but you aren’t and I only managed to get the money together yesterday so I wasn’t really hiding it and now it doesn’t matter because I probably -”
Ignis puts his hand on Prompto’s head to stop his rambling. There’s no product in his hair today and Ignis is upset he hasn’t removed his gloves yet to truly appreciate it.
Over Prompto’s shoulder Gladio smirks.
“I’m not upset,” Ignis promises.
A great deal of tension leaves Prompto then, the guilt abandoning his face without the anger replacing it.
“Show me your training plan,” Gladio says abruptly and Prompto turns back towards him. Ignis lets his hand trail down the back of Prompto’s head and his neck to squeeze his shoulder as he withdraws.
“Shut up,” Prompto snaps suddenly, surprising Ignis and Noctis laughs holding up his palms in a placating gesture. Prompto thrusts a crumpled piece of paper into Gladio’s hand.
Ignis heads back to the kitchen and is pulling a can of coconut milk from Noct’s pantry - it seems appropriate to make Prompto’s favourite after all - when Gladio says, “You’re already up to 22 miles?”
“Well I - uh, I was already up to 18 before I decided.”
“Holy shit,” Noct says, “Dude, you’re gonna be fine.”
Holy shit, indeed.