Hey. [ From the rustling sound, it's clear Gladio's got the phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder and he's doing other things while he's talking. ] Think I found a good spot for us to head out if you're ready. I got the sword prepped and ready in the Armiger for when we get there.
I just made it back to the apartments. Meet me downstairs and we can head out on the trolley. There's a stop close enough to one of the reservoirs. Should be big enough for what we need. [ Gladio grunts softly as he leans back against the wall by the entrance. ] Umbra coming with us?
I know. [ There's a warm quality to his voice then. Gladio tips his head back against the wall and reaches up to switch the phone to his other ear, holding it with his hand now. ]
Might as well. I don't know how he feels about sitting up in that apartment alone anyway.
(( set a day or two after this, still in Auriel for the mission. ))
[ A hand drops down onto Noct's shoulder. ]
Hey.
[ Deceptively simple, but none of the other words come out when he tried to open his mouth about half a dozen times since he's walked up on Noctis. That night, that dance, is still on his mind, days later, every word and touch and falter burned into his memory. Gladio doesn't know where to go from here, but it has to go somewhere. Or nowhere at all. Either way, he wants to know.
Sitting down next to him, Gladio leans back on his hands, the appearance of calm when he feels everything but. Just being here has made it harder for him to wrap things up and tuck them away, like his emotions, his feelings, are all suddenly too big to ignore, too heavy to carry. There's no guarantee saying anything will make it feel better, or hurt less, but not saying anything at all might ache more. ]
[ It hasn't been long since their last, rather tense meeting. But it feels like a long time, mostly because they almost never have serious arguments like this. Disagreements, yes, and frustrations, but this — it's almost too much, a sensation that closes around Noctis' throat, choking any attempt he might have made to smooth things over. So much is at stake. Their world, their friends, their relationship. They've shouldered the pressure of responsibility so far, but when it comes to moments like this, Noctis struggles. He wishes his dad had prepared him for it. He pushes the thought aside as soon as it manifests. ]
Hey, [ he echoes softly, hands resting on his lap as he sat on an ornate bench. It's a spot he's been drawn to lately, given how far it is from the more crowded areas of the castle and its placement in the gardens. Here, he can watch the swans drift over a lake, existing peacefully despite their earlier chaos.
Noctis is fiddling with a small crown, ironically enough, far too small for a human head but definitely one sized for a bird. He says nothing about it, though, quiet while Gladio takes up residence beside him. He feels like those birds — seemingly calm atop the water, but below the surface, their webbed feet peddle wildly.
At his name, Noctis responds with a gentle little push to Gladio's arm. It's a simple I got you and I'm listening. ]
[ There's no other way to say it, and Gladio thinks — hopes — just tearing the bandage off will make it easier. It doesn't, and those words hang heavy in the air like the threat of a summer storm rolling in, ready to break overhead. The regret sets in the second they're out there, because there were probably a hundred better ways to open up this whole thing but he'd failed to get his hands around any of them and so, here they are.
Gladio sighs, fingers curling over the edge of the bench, gripping it tight enough that the elegant details of it bite into his fingers. ]
About the other day. We can't keep doing this. [ It used to be easier to carry this unspoken thing between them, the dance along the lines they knew they should never cross, but lately, it's gotten harder to stop himself from bolting over it and now they're out of sync. All this is going to do is risk everything else, and Gladio doesn't want to fail at the one thing he's meant for. ] Not the way we used to.
You gotta work on your delivery, man. [ It's a weak attempt at humor, but Noctis is trying so hard not to let his instincts take over. This is not the moment for his fight or flight to kick in, or for memories of his father's stern face to emerge in his mind, always full of such disappointment.
It's even harder when Gladio follows it up with We can't keep doing this. Noctis knows what he's talking about immediately, and he stiffens, a sudden cold sensation washing over him. He stares straight ahead and manages to hear the rest of the words, but whether he processes them this time is anyone's guess. ]
Okay, [ sounds so far away to Noctis' own ears. ] I get it. [ And he does. Truly, deeply, he does. None of this is fair to Gladio, and honestly, he's grateful he even bothered to talk about this in the first place. He could've just left, right? It would be easier. Safer. But he didn't, and Noctis appreciates that. ]
[ A soft laugh is startled out of him, and Gladio nods. ] I know.
[ It's an admission and an apology all wrapped up into two words, because he knows that this is as hard for Noctis as it is for him. The pain points might not be the same, but they're not dissimilar, either, years of being told to believe something, act a certain way, all colliding with this other thing that neither of them have named, or looked at directly.
But it's been getting too hard to find a place to look where it wasn't there, right at the edges. ]
I'm here. How I'm here is up to us. What we want. [ Gladio knows he's still skirting around the actual words, but he's doing his best. ]
But you've gotta give me something, Noct. I've got my ass out here. [ This is his weak attempt at humor, and he chuckles again, but the mirth doesn't quite reach his eyes. Too many other things at there, too many to name, but there's something soft and warm that cuts through the worry that's eating at him. ]
[ I'm here unwinds something tight and barbed in the pit of his chest. Clasping his hands together in a white-knuckled grip, Noctis reminds himself of that long after Gladio's said it. In every moment of uncertainty like this one, he will resurface those words of conviction, over and over, committing them to memory because he so desperately needs to fight the negative self-talk in his head.
And when Gladio speaks next, Noctis huffs a soft noise, not quite in amusement, but close. ] Sorry. I was trying to let you lay out what you wanted first. [ He figures, and still does, that there's far more he wants to say. But it makes sense that Gladio wouldn't want to be the only one taking this step.
Even if it's going to be immensely difficult for Noctis to articulate his feelings. ]
This is the first time I ever thought — [ he inhales slowly, holds his breath for a second or two. ] It could be different. Here. That it's ... [ another breath. He sounds slightly winded. ] You know, possible? [ Oh, this is hard. Noctis grunts, staring down at his hands. ] Kinda like we're driving off-road in the dark.
[ Shoved into whatever Noct's claimed as a bed once the Fae clear out of the castle is a roll of papers that's tied up with so much twine that even with a knife it's gonna be annoying to open.
Only a little writing appears on the outside of the roll. ]
I know I kinda mentioned these here and there, but I [ Incomprehensibly scratched out and the ink smudged over for good measure ]
I thought you should see a copy of the stuff I keep catching myself writing cause I can't make myself talk about them.
Sorry to throw it at you and expect you to catch. I thought it was crazy, then I freaked, then I freaked harder, and now I wrote somebody calling me blondie? I thought maybe it'd make more sense to you.
Guess this is how you find out I've got three tattoos. I wasn't allowed to show anybody the one on my right arm. I would've told you about it ages ago if I could. Sorry.
[ It takes Noctis a bit of time to read through everything. At first, he just scans it, hand hovering by his phone, prepared to ask Prompto what all this was about. But then the weight of reality crashes in, concern mixing with confusion, and he sets his phone aside in favor of really trying to understand all this. Clearly, Prompto wanted him to see all this first. And he'll respect that wish.
When he finally texts two hours later, it's a simple message. ]
Can I come see you?
[ There's no pressure, no judgment, nothing but a request. Noctis will fully understand if Prompto isn't in the mood for company. ]
[ Writing the note had been hard. Leaving it all for Noct to find was harder.
But waiting?? Oh gods he's losing his mind over here, he is SO not patient even when he's feeling good. And he's... not feeling so good. So much so that when the notification comes through he drops his device. ]
Please? If you want. Sorry to drown you in homework but I don't think I can explain what's been going on in less time than the writing and drawings do.
This is about what I left for you, right?? I don't wanna do this out of order...
[ As the texts are coming in, Noctis does, in fact, read each one, but he's also walking pretty quickly so that he can track down where Prompto's been staying. He's crashed his friend's court before — mostly by shapeshifting into his black swan form, which he does now, waddling through the corridor with his phone clutched in his beak.
It isn't until he's within range that he glances around, ensuring the coast is clear before he shifts back. He should probably knock, he thinks briefly, but Noctis is running completely on autopilot as he pushes into Prompto's room and —
Promptly walks right into his friend's arms. He's hugging him. Tight. And strangely, Noctis says absolutely nothing at first, just holds him like a lifeline, squeezing gently, protective and warm. Establishing this is the most important thing. They can talk after. ]
[ Noct comes in like a man on a mission, and Prompto turns, startled, when the door opens. The little hitch in his breath only happens after he realizes it's Noct though.
Prompto's hugged so quickly that he can't say anything dumb like you came when of course he came: Noct said he would. And he hugs back almost as quickly, clinging like he's been thrown a life preserver ring when he's drowning in uncertainty and negativity.
He wants to say I'm fine, I'm gonna be fine is right on the tip of his tongue - because that's what he's supposed to be - but he doesn't feel fine. Prompto hadn't thought the worst was going to happen; but... he felt lousy enough to imagine it. He doesn't trust himself to say it right. ]
I-I'm starting to ... believe it.
[ He can hear it, that he does, that he doesn't want to, that he's on the cusp of crying about this again, and Prompto wants to hide in the hug as long as he can. He knows that Noct hugging him is a Good Sign, but there's still - that fear that the other shoe's about to drop and squish him flat. ]
Okay. [ It's a simple response. Too simple. Noctis is aware of that, and yet for him, it really is that simple. Even if his voice rasps on the word, and his arms tighten slightly for a minute or two, like he's trying to reinforce the idea that none of this matters to him. Not in the ways Prompto probably fears it might.
Drawing back just a little, Noctis keeps his hands firmly on his friend's arms, peering at him seriously. ] C'mon. Sit. We can talk or — [ he exhales a little, ] Not. Whatever you need. I'm not going anywhere. [ And he means that in more ways than one. He's in this for life, sticking by Prompto's side, supporting him. Nothing could possibly change his mind about that.
So he gently, if firmly, ushers his friend toward the bed so they can sit together side by side. He'll continue keeping a hand on him, too, especially if it seems to help. Noctis is worried, but he also believes so much in Prompto. He'll be okay. He knows he will. They just need to make sure he gets through this. ]
[ On the counter is a neatly wrapped box with a tag bearing Noctis' name.
Inside is a fishing lure in a case, and beneath it, a map with a spot circled and a note about it having interesting fish in it. Beneath both is a poem, because he promised to write him one. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
—voice, un:galatine;
no subject
no subject
no subject
Shit. ]
I don't know. I guess I could offer. [ He sounds uncertain. ]
no subject
Might as well. I don't know how he feels about sitting up in that apartment alone anyway.
no subject
There's a minute or two of silence before: ] He's in. Seems happy about it. Or he just wants the treats in my pocket.
no subject
[ Gladio laughs. ]
Maybe both.
audio ➤ action
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
—action;
[ A hand drops down onto Noct's shoulder. ]
Hey.
[ Deceptively simple, but none of the other words come out when he tried to open his mouth about half a dozen times since he's walked up on Noctis. That night, that dance, is still on his mind, days later, every word and touch and falter burned into his memory. Gladio doesn't know where to go from here, but it has to go somewhere. Or nowhere at all. Either way, he wants to know.
Sitting down next to him, Gladio leans back on his hands, the appearance of calm when he feels everything but. Just being here has made it harder for him to wrap things up and tuck them away, like his emotions, his feelings, are all suddenly too big to ignore, too heavy to carry. There's no guarantee saying anything will make it feel better, or hurt less, but not saying anything at all might ache more. ]
Noct.
[ Because he doesn't know where to begin. ]
no subject
Hey, [ he echoes softly, hands resting on his lap as he sat on an ornate bench. It's a spot he's been drawn to lately, given how far it is from the more crowded areas of the castle and its placement in the gardens. Here, he can watch the swans drift over a lake, existing peacefully despite their earlier chaos.
Noctis is fiddling with a small crown, ironically enough, far too small for a human head but definitely one sized for a bird. He says nothing about it, though, quiet while Gladio takes up residence beside him. He feels like those birds — seemingly calm atop the water, but below the surface, their webbed feet peddle wildly.
At his name, Noctis responds with a gentle little push to Gladio's arm. It's a simple I got you and I'm listening. ]
no subject
[ There's no other way to say it, and Gladio thinks — hopes — just tearing the bandage off will make it easier. It doesn't, and those words hang heavy in the air like the threat of a summer storm rolling in, ready to break overhead. The regret sets in the second they're out there, because there were probably a hundred better ways to open up this whole thing but he'd failed to get his hands around any of them and so, here they are.
Gladio sighs, fingers curling over the edge of the bench, gripping it tight enough that the elegant details of it bite into his fingers. ]
About the other day. We can't keep doing this. [ It used to be easier to carry this unspoken thing between them, the dance along the lines they knew they should never cross, but lately, it's gotten harder to stop himself from bolting over it and now they're out of sync. All this is going to do is risk everything else, and Gladio doesn't want to fail at the one thing he's meant for. ] Not the way we used to.
no subject
It's even harder when Gladio follows it up with We can't keep doing this. Noctis knows what he's talking about immediately, and he stiffens, a sudden cold sensation washing over him. He stares straight ahead and manages to hear the rest of the words, but whether he processes them this time is anyone's guess. ]
Okay, [ sounds so far away to Noctis' own ears. ] I get it. [ And he does. Truly, deeply, he does. None of this is fair to Gladio, and honestly, he's grateful he even bothered to talk about this in the first place. He could've just left, right? It would be easier. Safer. But he didn't, and Noctis appreciates that. ]
no subject
[ It's an admission and an apology all wrapped up into two words, because he knows that this is as hard for Noctis as it is for him. The pain points might not be the same, but they're not dissimilar, either, years of being told to believe something, act a certain way, all colliding with this other thing that neither of them have named, or looked at directly.
But it's been getting too hard to find a place to look where it wasn't there, right at the edges. ]
I'm here. How I'm here is up to us. What we want. [ Gladio knows he's still skirting around the actual words, but he's doing his best. ]
But you've gotta give me something, Noct. I've got my ass out here. [ This is his weak attempt at humor, and he chuckles again, but the mirth doesn't quite reach his eyes. Too many other things at there, too many to name, but there's something soft and warm that cuts through the worry that's eating at him. ]
no subject
And when Gladio speaks next, Noctis huffs a soft noise, not quite in amusement, but close. ] Sorry. I was trying to let you lay out what you wanted first. [ He figures, and still does, that there's far more he wants to say. But it makes sense that Gladio wouldn't want to be the only one taking this step.
Even if it's going to be immensely difficult for Noctis to articulate his feelings. ]
This is the first time I ever thought — [ he inhales slowly, holds his breath for a second or two. ] It could be different. Here. That it's ... [ another breath. He sounds slightly winded. ] You know, possible? [ Oh, this is hard. Noctis grunts, staring down at his hands. ] Kinda like we're driving off-road in the dark.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Note
Only a little writing appears on the outside of the roll. ]
Noct - sorry about the knots.
[ When the pages are unrolled, there's a note on top of the pages he's been collecting. ]
I know I kinda mentioned these here and there, but I [ Incomprehensibly scratched out and the ink smudged over for good measure ]
I thought you should see a copy of the stuff I keep catching myself writing cause I can't make myself talk about them.
Sorry to throw it at you and expect you to catch. I thought it was crazy, then I freaked, then I freaked harder, and now I wrote somebody calling me blondie? I thought maybe it'd make more sense to you.
Guess this is how you find out I've got three tattoos. I wasn't allowed to show anybody the one on my right arm. I would've told you about it ages ago if I could. Sorry.
no subject
When he finally texts two hours later, it's a simple message. ]
Can I come see you?
[ There's no pressure, no judgment, nothing but a request. Noctis will fully understand if Prompto isn't in the mood for company. ]
no subject
But waiting?? Oh gods he's losing his mind over here, he is SO not patient even when he's feeling good. And he's... not feeling so good. So much so that when the notification comes through he drops his device. ]
Please? If you want. Sorry to drown you in homework but I don't think I can explain what's been going on in less time than the writing and drawings do.
This is about what I left for you, right?? I don't wanna do this out of order...
no subject
It isn't until he's within range that he glances around, ensuring the coast is clear before he shifts back. He should probably knock, he thinks briefly, but Noctis is running completely on autopilot as he pushes into Prompto's room and —
Promptly walks right into his friend's arms. He's hugging him. Tight. And strangely, Noctis says absolutely nothing at first, just holds him like a lifeline, squeezing gently, protective and warm. Establishing this is the most important thing. They can talk after. ]
no subject
Prompto's hugged so quickly that he can't say anything dumb like you came when of course he came: Noct said he would. And he hugs back almost as quickly, clinging like he's been thrown a life preserver ring when he's drowning in uncertainty and negativity.
He wants to say I'm fine, I'm gonna be fine is right on the tip of his tongue - because that's what he's supposed to be - but he doesn't feel fine. Prompto hadn't thought the worst was going to happen; but... he felt lousy enough to imagine it. He doesn't trust himself to say it right. ]
I-I'm starting to ... believe it.
[ He can hear it, that he does, that he doesn't want to, that he's on the cusp of crying about this again, and Prompto wants to hide in the hug as long as he can. He knows that Noct hugging him is a Good Sign, but there's still - that fear that the other shoe's about to drop and squish him flat. ]
no subject
Drawing back just a little, Noctis keeps his hands firmly on his friend's arms, peering at him seriously. ] C'mon. Sit. We can talk or — [ he exhales a little, ] Not. Whatever you need. I'm not going anywhere. [ And he means that in more ways than one. He's in this for life, sticking by Prompto's side, supporting him. Nothing could possibly change his mind about that.
So he gently, if firmly, ushers his friend toward the bed so they can sit together side by side. He'll continue keeping a hand on him, too, especially if it seems to help. Noctis is worried, but he also believes so much in Prompto. He'll be okay. He knows he will. They just need to make sure he gets through this. ]
(no subject)
—delivery;
Inside is a fishing lure in a case, and beneath it, a map with a spot circled and a note about it having interesting fish in it. Beneath both is a poem, because he promised to write him one. ]
—text
A fishing spot AND a poem? I feel like I should buy you dinner.
no subject
Dinner, huh? Won't say no to that. Just tell me when.
no subject
I could make it a picnic, if you want. Might be fun to pack food and bring it with us. Then you can read that poem out loud.
[ He's just teasing. Mostly. ]
no subject
That sounds good to me. I've got a few spots that would work for that kind of thing. Dramatic reading's gonna cost you extra.
no subject
So I'll bring a surprise. That should cover the tax.