Work Text:
Noct noticed that when Prompto finally got his own place, he flourished. No longer was Prompto held down by the fact it was his parents' apartment (even if they were never there) and that he should "be grateful that he even had a place to live".
He preferred Prompto's new apartment over his own. It was bright, warm and welcoming. It felt lived in and homey. Nicknacks filled the shelves. Rocks, bottled sand, seashells, coupons, Fair bracelets. Pictures littered his walls. Some in frames or hung on strings or just tacked. Selfies, group photos to landscapes. Winding vines hung between the shelves, flowers blooming on the sill. Each item was lovingly on display, every corner ready to tell a story.
You'd never be able to get Prompto to admit it, but he was a man of many talents. He was able to cook a decent meal, knew how cars worked and managed to fix his own plumbing. However, with his newfound space, he was able to try (numerous) new hobbies. From scrapbooking, knitting, sewing, crochet, and cross-stitching. Started projects were found tucked where ever they could fit. Prompto had found a love for painting though. Rocks with various designed were the windowsill. Every clay pot was brightly coloured.
After a stressful week of being Prince Noctis, this was a place to relax and just be 'Noct'. He snuggled down into the used lumpy couch, piled under in the many quilts Prompto had reluctantly accepted from the elderly Galahdian women he'd helped over the years. With the blanket tucked up under his chin and his toes wiggled under Prompto's thigh, it was so warm and relaxing. Maybe if he skipped the next round, he could sneak a quick nap in.