Chapter Text
Prompto hears the shrill chirp of his phone alarm going off in the morning, and he lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stretching his arms above his head, not ready to wake up just yet.
Pain settles into Prompto’s limbs from the awkward position he fell asleep in. This definitely isn’t his bed -- even his lumpy mattress at home is comfier than this.
There’s a lump moving next to Prompto’s ankles, and he hears the familiar whine of his best friend, Noctis. “Ugh, shut that thing off.”
Prompto’s eyes flutter open in shock as he sits up suddenly, remembering where he fell asleep as soon as he realizes he’s still on Noctis’s couch, the lump at his feet being the half-asleep form of his best friend.
Prompto reaches over, shutting off the alarm, standing up suddenly. “Shit. Shit. I’m so not gonna get this job interview if I’m gonna be late, shit, I didn’t mean to spend the whole night here.”
Noctis barely moves, grunting into the arm of the couch, taking advantage of the extra space after Prompto stands by rolling over and stretching out. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, dude, if you don’t get it, my dad’ll give you a job at the citadel.” Noctis’s eyes remain closed, but his lips form a sleepy smile before burying his face in the crook of his arm.
Prompto sighs, rolling his eyes as he shoves his phone into his pocket. “Easy for you to say, Noct. I will die if I don’t get this photography job. I’m so out, man. Talk to you later?”
“Later, Prom,” Noct mumbles sleepily. “Good luck.”
Prompto laughs once more at him before running his fingers through his blonde hair, shoving his glasses on his face, grabbing his sweater, and racing out the door.
Prompto’s blessing all six of the Astrals under his breath that he managed to not sleep in his red sweater vest as he races down the streets of Insomnia. The shirt underneath is wrinkled a little bit, but nothing he can’t smooth out before he gets to The Daily Lucian.
Sure, maybe Prompto’s freaking out a little too much over making a good impression for a photographer’s job for a newspaper company, but he can’t help it. Photography is his lifelong passion, and Prompto’s sure he’ll waste away to nothing if he doesn’t manage to land this job. He didn’t spend college studying photography for nothing, after all. Not to mention the fact if Prompto doesn’t land this job, and ends up having to work for Noct’s dad -- the king -- just like his uncle Cor, his life dreams will probably never take off if he has a demanding job like that.
Prompto manages to make it to his 9 A.M. interview with five minutes to spare, proudly enough. He bounces his leg nervously, his favorite camera and his portfolio and resume clutched in his fingers on his lap as he waits in the reception area to be called in. There aren’t many people here, save for the receptionist and a few other tired-looking people who look like they have something better to do.
Maybe Prompto will get lucky.
“Mr. Argentum?” the kind-eyed receptionist calls out pleasantly. “Mr. Ghiranze will see you, now.”
Prompto bites his lip, nodding nervously as he heads toward the editor-in-chief’s office, trying to juggle all his stuff while keeping his glasses from sliding down his nose. He blows his blonde bangs out of his face as he heads inside, shutting the door with his ass for lack of hand use.
Dino Ghiranze, editor-in-chief for the Daily Lucian, is not the classiest of people Prompto’s ever laid his eyes on. Of course, Prompto had prepared for this. He’d gone over every sort of interview scenario in his head, including situations in which the building might catch on fire or some other sort of catastrophe. Still, as Dino whirls around in his leather business chair, looking at Prompto with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk, Prompto feels like he needs to wash his hands or something.
“So you’re… uh,” Dino starts, heavy accent coloring his tone, “sorry, what was your name again?”
Not the best of starts. “Prompto. Prompto Argentum.”
Dino’s smirk widens. “ Prompto. That’s right. You’re here for the photography position, huh?”
Prompto nods. “Yes, sir. I’ve got plenty of experience, references, and my portfolio’s just here--” Prompto places the folder onto Dino’s desk, but doesn’t shove it in Dino’s direction.
“Well, luckily for you, I’m desperate,” Dino announces. It’s not the most ideal of answers, but Prompto will take what he can get. He watches as Dino grabs the folder boredly, flipping through all of Prompto’s photographs with a vacant expression. “Nice composition, good framing…” Dino shuts the folder, looking at Prompto expectantly.
Prompto flushes, whether from nerves or embarrassment, it’s difficult to tell. “Thank you, sir, I’ve got my master’s in photography and I’ve been taking photos ever since I was--”
“I just had a photographer quit without notice. You’ve got potential, kid, so think of this as a trial run. You screw up, you get replaced, but for now, I need ya. Make me proud, alright?”
Prompto’s heart thuds a thousand miles an hour, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re serious?! Oh em gee! You won’t regret it, sir, I promise!” Prompto reaches out to grip Dino’s hand, shaking it violently.
Dino snorts, shaking his hand back with much less enthusiasm. “Yeah, yeah. Now, when can you start, kid? I need pictures for articles that were due days ago--”
“Today? I can start right now, if you’d like?” Prompto blurts without any self-preservation. The ache in his neck practically groans in protest.
Dino beams. “Glad to hear it! Go grab any of the empty desks, they’re yours. You got your own equipment, right?”
Prompto nods again. “I sure do.”
“Good. Now, get settled, then I want you to talk to Specs. Can’t miss him; tall, legs for days, light hair all spiked up, glasses, could easily be a model… he’s my best journalist. He’ll tell ya what he needs photos of.”
Prompto nods, trying to remember the description. ‘Specs’ doesn’t seem like a real name, so he’d have to improvise. For some reason, the name sounds slightly familiar, but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. “Thank you again, sir. I’ll get started right away.”
Dino waves him off. “Anytime, kid. See ya around.”
Prompto grabs his folder off of Dino’s desk and practically runs out of the editor-in-chief’s office. He makes his way to the office bullpen.
The office is fairly busy, filled with people grabbing coffee, chatting, typing, and all sorts of other activities as Prompto tries to find an empty desk to sit at, slightly overwhelmed. Unfortunately, none of the empty desks are by a window -- Prompto settles for one toward the front, close to the copy machine and the bathroom for lack of better choices. Not the most ideal, but again, Prompto’s desperate and he’s good at settling for less.
Prompto sets down his things and pulls his phone out of his pocket, texting his best friend the good news -- along with his uncle Cor, of course.
Prompto (9:24 A.M.): i got the job!!! :)
Prompto sends it to both of them with a grin. He’s so happy he managed to land this job. He leans back in his desk, breathing in deeply to let out a sigh of relief. Prompto can’t believe the first official job he’s applied for as a photographer that wasn’t a useless, unpaid internship is a success.
Still, in order to keep this job, Prompto remembers he desperately needs to be able to get on top of a lot of workloads. Working under pressure isn’t his strongest suit, but he’ll have to make due -- at least his determination will win out. Prompto chews on his lip, realizing he needs to search for whoever the hell ‘Specs’ is.
“Well, well. You look rather flustered,” a smooth, velvety accent fills his ears. “Is this your first day? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around.”
Prompto’s head whirls almost violently toward the source of the voice standing behind him, his chair spinning a little too fast.
Prompto finds himself looking at, easily , the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on -- and he’s friends with a lot of beautiful people. Butterflies flutter his fickle heart as he locks eyes with pretty green eyes hidden behind tiny, rectangular, half-framed glasses. They’re framed by light, ash-blonde hair teased up perfectly straight. Prompto notices everything; from his high cheekbones, pretty pink lips, to his wardrobe -- he’s dressed in an expensive-looking suit, complete with suspenders. Prompto swears he’s never seen legs longer in his life, and that’s when he realizes.
Legs for days.
“Yeah, I’m… uh, are you Specs?” Prompto blurts, not knowing what else to say. He’s at least grateful that he didn’t manage to splutter, ‘hey, you’re really fucking hot, dude.’ Last thing he needs is some sort of lawsuit. This Specs guy looks like the type to issue one, too; all business and no play. Prompto sighs.
The man’s expectant, amused expression turns slightly curious, tilting his head gently at Prompto. “How did you know that?”
“Dino, um. Well, I’m supposed to find you, ‘cause I need you. For, uh…” Prompto trails off, anxiety making him lose his words. He reaches for his camera, dangling it in the air in front of him.
Realization floods Specs’ features. “Ah! You must be the new photographer. You may call me Ignis, if you’d prefer. Dino is rather fond of nicknames, I’m afraid. And you are?”
“P-Prompto. Prompto,” he manages to say, smiling a little. “But, okay, Ignis. I wasn’t sure what the nickname was about, but I see now. Specs.” Prompto touches the circular frame of his own glasses to emphasize.
Ignis smiles at Prompto's glasses, a sight that nearly knocks Prompto out of his chair. “Yes, an old childhood nickname that seems to have stuck. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prompto.”
Ignis holds out his hand for Prompto to shake. Prompto grabs it gently, trying to ignore the heat coming off of Ignis’s hands, even through the fancy gloves he wears -- of course he wears gloves, too.
“You, too. Do you not like germs or something?” Prompto asks with a laugh.
Ignis raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“You wear gloves.”
Ignis looks at his hands, flexing his fingers, nearly sending Prompto into cardiac arrest. “I don’t believe anyone enjoys germs. It’s more of a fashion statement, however.” He smirks. “You know, your name sounds awfully familiar.”
It's Prompto's turn for his eyebrows to shoot up with surprise. "Oh, really? I don't think we've met, have we? I totally feel that, though, man. I was thinking that earlier, but it was more about your nickname than your real name. Huh." He rubs the back of his neck. "I hear you're a good journalist, though."
Ignis waves him off dismissively. "I'm not much, I assure you. That's quite kind of you to say. I'm intrigued to see your work sometime."
Prompto smiles. "Got my portfolio here, if ya want. It’s, uh, heh, not much, though,” he says, like he totally didn’t spend a month trying to compile it perfectly, and a few more months freaking out over it -- more like his entire life freaking out over it.
Ignis makes a contemplative noise before taking the folder Prompto offers to him. It’s a little funny to Prompto that Ignis sounds more interested in his work than Dino did, and Dino’s his damn new boss. Prompto doesn’t know what to make of that.
Ignis looks at his photos for what feels like an hour, until his eyes light up-- it's such a beautiful sight Prompto almost forgets to wonder why the hell Ignis even looks like that in the first place. "These shots at the chocobo ranch outside the city -- are they from the protest from a few months ago?" Ignis asks, looking over at him from underneath his glasses, a look that shouldn’t be as adorable as Prompto finds it.
Prompto nods. "Yep! I hated how they were treating those poor chocobos. I'm glad my photos helped set them free."
"That's it. Prompto Argentum. I remember that story quite well-- I'd written a follow-up piece on it, and cited your photography work and impact. Your photos are far better than the photographer we had here, as rude as it sounds. Your work is excellent, if I do say so myself. I'm happy to see you here, of all places."
Prompto feels his whole body flush, it seems like. "That's so nice, dude. Makes a guy feel welcome." He laughs.
Ignis smirks. "Wasn't my intention, but I'm rather glad that it worked."
Prompto tries not to think too much into that and fails. It almost sounded like a flirtation. There's no way a guy like Ignis could even think about a dorky dude in glasses, right? Prompto hopes so, at least -- after all, Ignis wears glasses. Prompto hopes Ignis isn’t a hypocrite, but given his history with romance, Prompto wouldn’t be surprised if Ignis turned out to be a jackass -- though he’s yet to find any evidence of it.
Prompto finds himself laughing nervously. "It sure did, but I'm a pretty easy guy." He snorts, desperate to change the subject so he doesn't embarrass himself further. "I'd love to read some of your stuff."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ignis teases. "I happen to be working on a piece exposing the Niflheim Corporation, actually. Given your history with exposing unjust circumstances, I think you'd be a wonderful aid to help me back up my claims. Have you heard the rumors?"
Prompto swallows nervously. He's definitely heard things about the mysterious science and tech company downtown. Rumors of illegal human experimentation involving daemons were almost always swirling around, but no one could actually prove anything -- at least without surviving to tell the tale, but Prompto never knows how much stuff like that on the internet is bullshit or not.
"Uh, sure. I'm down to get my hands dirty on my first day. What's your angle?" Prompto asks.
Ignis laughs; it's a deep sound, but controlled-- pretty. It's more of a light chuckle than anything, and Prompto finds himself charmed-- though Prompto's slowly starting to find himself charmed by every word out of Ignis's mouth. He so can't afford to get a dumb crush on his first day.
"Don't fret. I've informed Dino about my piece, and he's all but thrilled to be the first paper to expose Niflheim-- just so long as I have the proof, as it were. I've anonymous sources, documentation of permits, but I've yet to acquire any photographic evidence," Ignis explains. "Perhaps we can help each other? You could complement my piece with your incredible photography-- and you would gain quite an admirable notch on your belt with such a portfolio addition."
Prompto nods. It really is a good opportunity -- it’ll really help him land this job and keep it, or find others better than this one. Also, Ignis seems like a really good guy to work with, to say the least; professional. He seems like he’s keeping the whole newspaper afloat alone. Prompto knows that’s probably an oversight, but he can admit he’s a little biased here -- already .
“Well, I mean, what do I have to lose?” Prompto snorts. “Count me in.”
Ignis seems surprised, lips parting slightly. “Oh, you certainly didn’t have to decide immediately. I didn’t intend to put you on the spot -- I’m afraid I got a bit carried away. Forgive me?”
Prompto, at this point, wonders if Ignis is doing this on purpose -- the whole gentlemanly thing. He grins. “Dude, nothing to forgive. I’m kind of a leap-before-you-look sorta dude, y’know?”
Ignis blinks expectantly. “You are aware that there are, in fact, rumors of Niflheim murdering those who try to expose them? It’s why no one has been able to touch anything thus far,” Ignis reminds him. “Do consider that into your calculations, please. I’d hate to get you in over your head. I’m a bit of a go-getter.” He smirks.
Prompto bites his lip, trying not to imagine that in so many inappropriate ways. Ignis certainly has a point, though; getting murdered is totally a cause for concern, but he’s friends with the crown prince, after all. How bad could it get? He shrugs. “Well, luckily for you, me too.” He grins. “Guess we’ll have to be super careful, huh?”
Ignis smiles in return, seemingly shocked by Prompto’s answer. “I suppose we will. We’ll look out for each other, yes? Stay close to me, and all that?”
Prompto wishes he could ignore the way his heart flutters at Ignis’s words, and the soft smile on his face. “Exactly. Guess that means we’ll have to go there, right?”
Ignis nods. “Precisely. If you’re certain, we can plan it today, and head out first thing tomorrow? Or would you like additional time to decide, given the new information I’ve presented to you?”
“Nah, man. Let’s do it. I’m ready to get murdered by a bunch of sciency-types for sure. ”
Ignis chuckles again. He reaches out and squeezes Prompto’s shoulder. Ignis’s fancy glove looks a little out of place resting on his half-wrinkled sweater vest, but his heart flies at the simple touch, regardless. “Grand. Would you care to join me at my desk? It’s a bit louder over here. I’ll see to it that you can move your desk elsewhere, if you’d like.”
Prompto locks eyes with him, slightly touched. “Wow, you’d do that for me? You don’t even know me, man.”
Ignis chuckles. “Perhaps I’ve a good feeling about you. Apologies if I’m being too forward, however. I can assure you I mean no harm.”
“No, I mean… holy shit, you’re a sweetheart,” Prompto blurts. His eyes widen as he stands up. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I’m a pretty affectionate dude.” He raises his hands in surrender.
Ignis continues to laugh, though it’s louder this time, a bit less controlled, which warms Prompto’s heart. “That won’t be a problem.” Prompto swears he sees the hint of a wink coming from Ignis, but he could very well be hallucinating this whole exchange at this point. “Follow me, then?”
Prompto nods as he follows Ignis all the way to the opposite side of the office, to a cozy little corner desk surrounded by wall-length windows on the back and to the right. Ignis’s desk is excruciatingly organized, not a paper or pen out of place, computer and tablet tucked neatly in the corner. Ignis’s suit jacket hangs on the back of his fancy leather desk chair -- a chair much nicer than Prompto’s, he notices.
“You’re really organized, aren’t you?” Prompto mutters as Ignis sits in front of his desk. Prompto makes himself at home by sitting on the edge of Ignis’s desk, legs dangling as he speaks.
Ignis shrugs. “I suppose.” He pulls up a document, scrolling through to the bottom.
Prompto peeks, noticing several building and health permits for Niflheim Corp. “And I’m guessin’ you work a lot, don’t you?”
Ignis chuckles. “I’m not much for personal time, I’m afraid.”
“You should take some,” Prompto notes. “It’d be good for you.”
Their eyes lock. “I’ll be certain to keep that in mind. Though, I do quite enjoy what I do. I don’t see any reason to cease.”
Prompto stares at him for a little while longer before laughing. “I guess you got a point.”
Ignis nods toward his screen. “In order to get copies of these permits, and eyewitnesses, I’ve had to take on several aliases, false identifications -- all sorts of… extralegal activity, for lack of a better term. Would this be a problem for you?”
Prompto thinks of the time that he totally fucked up getting a fake ID in order to go to a club with Noctis at seventeen. He laughs a little. “Nope. I don’t really care.”
“Wonderful. I’ll have visiting research badges made for us for our trip tomorrow. You’re aware of the entire history of Niflheim Corporation, are you not? Or shall I fill you in?” Ignis asks, sliding his glasses up his nose adorably.
The gesture reminds Prompto to do the same, fixing his own glasses in turn. “Uhhh… other than the rumors, I’m not sure what else I need to know,” he admits.
“Well, it was founded by billionaire Iedolas Aldercapt, though he hardly oversees procedures that take place.” Prompto watches Ignis scroll to a picture of a super old-looking dude before scrolling down to more old-looking dudes. “That would fall under the co-CEOs in this picture, Ardyn Izunia and Verstael Besithia, respectively, from left to right.”
“Yeah, they totally don’t look shady at all,” Prompto says sarcastically.
Ignis chuckles. “Precisely.”
“The one on the right looks familiar, though,” Prompto says, referring to Verstael Besithia. “What’s he do?”
“He’s mostly on everyone’s radar. Izunia is more in charge of press, as it were. Besithia is the one who’s likely to get his hands a bit dirtier. More specifically, there’s been reported illegal human experimentation, particularly involving daemons, as I mentioned earlier. These permits I’ve found allude to such,” Ignis says, scrolling to the list of documents Prompto was already spying on a moment ago, “but ultimately prove nothing other than speculation. They’ve also -- allegedly -- had their hand in animal experimentation, as well. Fusing daemon and human DNA, combining animal genes with humans, or all of the above. This would be purely scientific if it weren’t immoral, you see -- there’s been numerous deaths and accidents, under the ruse of medical trials, and therefore completely untouched by the government. That’s what we’re trying to expose. Are you with me thus far?”
Prompto lets out a long breath. “Jeez. It’s even worse than I thought. We gotta get these guys, Igster.”
Ignis turns his head, locking eyes with Prompto, a peculiar expression on his face. “That’s certainly a new one.”
Prompto smirks, a little sheepish. “Should I go back to calling you Ignis?”
Ignis appears to think about it for a moment. “Not at all. Call me whatever you wish.”
Prompto kicks Ignis’s chair playfully, laughing off the flirtation in Ignis’s voice. “Roger that.” He looks back to Ignis’s article, displayed on Moogle Docs. “So… other than our badges, how do we get in?”
“Very carefully,” Ignis says, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll enter in the front, to avoid suspicion. As soon as we’re inside, I’ll keep watch as you disable the cameras to the restricted area. I’ve managed to locate a survey of the building from a rather disgruntled former employee, so I know where to head first thing. As soon as we’ve stalled the camera, we’ll have to be quick -- their security system will detect the anomaly in the cameras in no more than five minutes. You’ll take your photographs, then we will head out as quickly as we came in. How does that sound?”
“Wowzers. You’ve thought of everything,” Prompto says. “I’m impressed. Got a camera preference, or should I bring them all?”
Ignis smiles. “Best to bring as much as you can hide on your person. We’ll have to improvise while going through security. For obvious reasons, cameras are not allowed.”
Prompto grins. “It’ll be fine! We’ll get you those pics, and get those bastards shut down, for sure.”
It’s entirely worth it for the responding grin the Ignis gives him, if Prompto’s honest .
🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸
Prompto practically falls through his front door after such a long day, groaning as he slumps into a dining room chair at his uncle’s apartment.
“Gods. I’m dead. I didn’t even do anything and that was the most intense first day ever,” Prompto groans to his uncle, Cor.
Cor isn’t really his uncle; not by blood, at least. After Prompto’s foster parents died in a car accident, Cor took him in as pretty much a baby. Still, the name sort of stuck, and so Cor has been Uncle Cor ever since.
Cor laughs from the kitchen, stirring what smells like spaghetti sauce in a pan on the stove. “That’s what working will do to you, kid. You’re lucky you’re not the leader of the Lucian Crownsguard,” he says with a laugh, referring to himself. “What happened?”
Prompto snorts. “Guess so. But, oh, man. Met one of my coworkers? His name is Ignis. And I’m already planning on doing something I’m pretty sure is illegal. For the sake of journalism,” Prompto whines.
Cor turns slightly as he plates up some spaghetti noodles. “Is his last name Scientia, by any chance?”
Prompto remembers the nameplate on Ignis’s desk from earlier, and raises an eyebrow. “How’d you know that?”
Cor sets a hefty plate of spaghetti in front of Prompto as he speaks. “He grew up with Noct, of course. They were pretty much best friends, ‘til Ignis went off to get a degree. I think he’s a few years older, maybe two, if I remember correctly. He’s a good kid. Smart as hell. Glad you were able to meet him finally. If you’d have spent time with his highness maybe a year earlier, you would have met him in high school.”
Prompto tries to remember Ignis from his years in high school, and fails. He definitely must have left before he met Noctis. “Huh. That’s so weird. Small world, I guess, huh?”
Cor sits across from him at their tiny dining table, taking a bite before responding. “I guess. So, what’s this illegal activity you’re talking about? You know I work for the king still, right?”
Prompto snorts. “Don’t worry, it’s got nothin’ to do with that. Well, y’know that shady tech and science company downtown, Niflheim Corp?”
Cor stiffens. “Prompto, don’t go anywhere near there, alright? I’ve heard some stuff.”
Prompto frowns. “Exactly! That’s why I gotta do it, to stop this stuff from happening. And, like, Iggy said--”
“‘Iggy’? Didn’t you just meet him today?” Cor asks, with a raised eyebrow.
Prompto feels himself flush. “Well, yeah, but--”
“Look, Ignis is a hard worker, and impressive as hell, but I need you to be careful. You’re… younger than him, and not as experienced.”
Prompto’s face falls. “By, like, what? Two years? I’m twenty, Uncle Cor! I’ll be fine. If anything gets too shady, I’ll bail. Ignis seems, like, totally responsible, anyway. Sound good?” Prompto takes a sip of water. “You remember what it was like with the chocobos.”
Cor rolls his eyes. “Prompto, chocobos don’t murder people. That’s different.”
“Technically, yeah, but in principle, it’s not. Besides, if I make a break with this, then I’ll be able to afford my own place, and won’t have to stay at your place well into adulthood anymore.”
Cor sighs. “I guess I can’t stop you. But you’d better check in once in a while. When are you going?”
Prompto beams. “First thing in the morning, I’m meeting Iggy at a Ebony Roasters Coffee downtown.”
“Be careful, Prompto.”
“I will.”
🕸🕸🕸🕸🕸
Prompto flops into bed after quite the day, happy to finally be able to sleep in a bed for once. He has to quit crashing on Noct’s couch, though he’s sure he’ll forget as soon as he heads over there again.
Speaking of the devil, Prompto’s phone goes off, finding a text message from Prince Noctis himself.
Noct (11:02 P.M.): so, how was it?
Prompto grins, thinking about Ignis immediately.
Prompto (11:04 P.M.): good. I’m doin’ this huge article with your old friend ignis! My uncle was tellin me about him
Noct (11:05 P.M.): specs? Holy shit. I can’t believe u guys are getting along. That’s cool tho. We’ll have to all hang out sometime, catch up.
Prompto smiles. So that’s where he heard Specs’ nickname before. He can’t believe he forgot how much Noct used to talk about him.
Prompto (11:06 P.M.): was he always this hot??? Bc he’s really hot.
Noct (11:07 P.M.): aww dude. c’mon. gross
Prompto laughs to himself. Honestly, Prompto has no idea why Noct is even averse to the idea. Maybe if Noct didn’t spend all his time drooling after his shield, Gladio, he’d be able to see what a catch Ignis is.
Prompto finds Ignis’s number, newly saved to his phone. Against his better judgement, he opens up a new text message draft.
Prompto (11:10 P.M.): hey, iggy. Is it cool to text you? Haha. Hope I didn’t wake you up
Prompto doesn’t know whether or not Ignis is an early-to-bed sort of guy. It’d be really awkward if he texted someone who was already asleep. Surprisingly enough, Prompto’s phone vibrates a few minutes later.
Ignis (11:13 P.M.): I’m awake. It’s lovely to hear from you. Is everything alright?
Prompto sighs longingly. He’s always been a sort of romantic sap, that’s no joke, but Ignis sparks something in him super pathetic, even he can admit.
Prompto (11:14 P.M.): cool!! Everything’s good. Was kinda thinkin’ about you.
Ignis (11:15 P.M.): Is that so? ;) Good things, I hope.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Does everything sound like a flirtation because of Prompto’s hopeless crush, or is Ignis actually flirting with him? Prompto’s quick to reply, fingers flying against his screen.
Prompto (11:16 P.M.): alllll the good things, dude. Do u remember noct? Like, prince noctis
Ignis (11:17 P.M.): Yes, of course. Do you know him?
Prompto (11:18 P.M.): He’s my best friend!!! That’s so wild. I mentioned you to noct and he said we should all hang out. I think that’d be kinda fun
Ignis (11:19 P.M.): It certainly would. That’s quite a coincidence. I suppose it’s quite like fate that we met.
Prompto groans into his pillow, trying to ignore the way his heart races at the words. “Seriously?!” he groans to himself, not actually upset at all.
Prompto (11:20 P.M.) i guess so ;) we can talk about it tmrw. I don’t wanna keep you up. We’re still on for tomorrow, yeah?
Ignis (11:22 P.M.): As long as you’re still on board. Coffee at eight sharp. Thank you for assisting me, Prompto. I’m entirely in your debt.
Prompto could totally be polite about this, absolutely. He’s happy to help Ignis, especially since it helps himself, too. But it’s not like he can’t resist an open opportunity to flirt with Ignis.
Prompto (11:24 P.M.): don’t sweat it, dude. Though i totally wouldn’t mind seeing you more often… just throwin’ that out there. Up to you, though! I’ll let ya sleep.
Ignis’s response is impressively swift.
Ignis (11:25 P.M.): Funnily enough, I was trying to find the most appropriate way to say the same to you. Great minds think alike once more. ;) Sweet dreams, Prompto. I’m happy to have met you. Seems it was overdue.
Prompto grins.
Prompto (11:26 P.M.): gods, how are you so smooth? I’ll see you tomorrow iggy. Sweet dreams to you too
Prompto’s in way over his head, he knows that much. He’s going to have a hell of a day tomorrow, that’s for sure. He only hopes that he and Ignis manage to get out of Niflheim Corp without incident.