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trading places

Summary:

“Holy shit, Iggy, you’ve gotta fucking help me--” Prompto blurts, realizing only now that Ignis is going to be hearing his own voice talking back to him.

The silence is deafening, and Prompto hears the familiar cadence of his own voice -- his real voice -- responding to him. “I do believe we have a problem, Prompto.”

Prompto could almost laugh at the sound of his own voice with such a calm, dignified edge to it, but it’s not really a laughing matter right now.

“Holy shit. You’re me, too,” Prompto says, not bothering to even try to talk more like Ignis.


-----

FFXV Halloween Week
Day Four: Bodyswapping

Notes:

i have never written bodyswapping before but let me tell you this was a JOURNEY to write. idk what this is has to do with Halloween, esp when I made this mostly comedic, BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY LMAO

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Prompto has never been so nervous for a dinner date in his entire life, and he has no idea why. It’s not unlike every other Friday night where he gets together with Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis for some dinner, drinks, and arcade games (though the last part is more for Noctis, and not the others). 

He does this every Friday. What’s the big deal about this one that has Prompto consistently fixing his hair nervously in the mirror and wearing his best outfit he can manage to scramble out of his closet?

There’s a knock on his door, almost as if the universe is answering for him.

Ignis is on the other side of that door, by the way. He might have forgotten to mention that. The difference between this Friday night and all others, is that Ignis asked Prompto to accompany him tonight. Personally. As in, together. As in, a date.

Of course, Prompto’s excited. He’s had the world’s biggest crush on Ignis since he was in high school, so to be asked to be escorted by him is something he’s been excited about all week, up until the day of.

Prompto’s so nervous he’s going to blow it, and he’s pretty sure he will, too, because Ignis isn’t the only reason to be worried tonight.

It’s also Friday the 13th.

Prompto’s not the most superstitious man in the world, but he’s probably up there. He’s been avoiding stepping on cracks since he learned how to walk, and when every Friday the 13th rolls around, he’s an anxious mess all day.

So, of course, the one night Prompto lands a date with Ignis Scientia, it’s probably the worst day to do it. It’s not as if he can say no to said date with Ignis Scientia, so here he is, sweating bullets and turning into a complete mess.

It apparently shows when he opens the door for Ignis, as a laugh tumbles out of Ignis’s lips as soon as he looks at Prompto. It’s not condescending or teasing at all, it’s merely amused, fond, and even nervous, but Prompto still can’t help but feel insecure.

“Should I be worried you look so horrified to see me, or is this merely your Friday the 13th superstition striking again?” he teases, extending a bouquet for Prompto to take.

Prompto, despite his nerves, nearly coos at the pretty arrangement of roses Ignis brought him. “Iggy, this is so sweet,” he hums, taking the roses and smelling them, letting out a pleasured sigh at the scent. “Also, no, please don’t take offense, I’m super scared I’m going to die or something.”

“You ought to stop watching horror films,” Ignis says, but there’s a playful smirk on his face. “Don’t fret, I will protect you from any ailments this evening. You look incredible.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Prompto’s cheek that really drives Prompto up the wall with affection.

They haven’t kissed yet, obviously -- first date, duh -- but it’s the first cheek kiss Prompto’s received from him, and Prompto tries not to get distracted at the softness of Ignis’s lips. He can’t exactly open up that can of worms so early in the evening.

Prompto tries to fight his flush, but fails. “So do you, but that’s a given for you, dude,” he says flirtatiously. “Thanks, Iggy, for offering to take me tonight.”

Ignis smiles. “My pleasure. Shall we head out? Gladio and Noct got a head start on us to the restaurant, I’m afraid.”

Prompto nods, taking the arm that Ignis offers him. “Let’s do it, man!” He beams, though he knows it’s not up to par with his usual excitement. Hopefully, nothing bad will happen tonight. 

Hopefully.

-----

Gladio throws a straw wrapper at Prompto during the first ten minutes of their evening, sitting in their usual booth at their favorite restaurant, laughing a little.

“Jeez, Iggy, maybe you shouldn’t have asked the kid out, he looks like he’s about to blow a gasket,” Gladio teases, reaching over the table to ruffle Prompto’s hair.

Ignis places a hand on Prompto’s knee. “Now, now, he’s merely struggling with the timing, that’s all.”

Prompto feels himself start to flush. “I’m not so good, with, uh…”

Noctis grins. “Friday the 13th. Y’know, that movie isn’t real right?”

“Isn’t that movie about a serial killer or some shit, anyway? The hell does that have to do with you?” Gladio points out, rolling his eyes affectionately.

“I’m not scared of the movie, it’s Friday the 13th in general,” Prompto explains with only mild whining. “It’s bad luck, dude! Having a first date on Friday the 13th?! We’re just begging for chaos.”

Noctis laughs beautifully, enough to close his eyes. “What do you think’s gonna happen, Prom? Specs will choke on his food or something? Break his back?”

Prompto’s eyes widen. “Oh, Gods. Don’t say that!”

Ignis chuckles, his hand on Prompto’s knee sliding up slightly. “Would it ease your mind to not refer to this as a date? We are here among the four of us, after all.”

Prompto’s heart nearly stops. “No!” he blurts. “I’m totally not throwin’ this away because of this dumb day. Don’t crush my dreams.”

Gladio snorts. “Blondie, you’re a mess.”

“I was merely offering. I’d hate to put you in such a crisis,” Ignis teases, but his eyes connect with Prompto’s fondly -- affectionately.

“Hey, y’know, what if something happened like that one movie? What’s it called? Where it was Friday the 13th and they ended up in each other’s bodies?” Noctis asks with a laugh. “That was a movie, right?”

“Ah. Yes, I remember that film,” Ignis says, taking a sip of wine. “That would be dreadful , to say the least. I would hate for Prompto to have to endure the conference I have scheduled for tomorrow.”

“I would die,” Prompto agrees. “I’d die. I don’t even know how to talk Noct’s dad. Do I bow before or after? Do I have to call him your majesty, or King Regis? I’m so lost.”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t be you,” Ignis points out. “I’d fail to style that hairstyle of yours right out of the starting gate, I’m afraid.”

Gladio throws his head back and laughs. “Imagine Prom with Iggy’s hairstyle. Fucking hilarious.”

Prompto pouts. “Hey, I’d look cute.”

Ignis levels a smile at Prompto. “That you would.”

Prompto’s eyes widen. “Oh, Gods, and training? They’d expect me to be all battle ballerina like Iggy. I’d fall right on my ass and they’d probably think Iggy was drunk.”

Noctis grins. “Now I’m kinda wishing that would happen.”

“You two wouldn’t last five minutes in each other’s bodies,” Gladio says. “Good thing that movie’s fake and so is Friday the 13th and you need to get your shit together, blondie.”

Prompto kicks Gladio under the table. “Hey, man, you never know! I don’t fuck with this kinda shit!” 

Ignis slides an arm around Prompto, chuckling softly. “Never a dull moment with you, hmm, Prompto?”

Prompto flushes embarrassingly, ducking his head under Ignis’s charming scrutiny, but leans into Ignis nonetheless. “Keepin’ you on your toes!” He laughs. “It might be nice bein’ you for a day, though. I could be all handsome and fancy, and everyone would do what I say.”

Ignis huffs out an adorable laugh at this, louder than Prompto’s ever heard Ignis laugh. “Ah, I only wish that’s how my days went.”

“Yeah, you have no idea the amount of shit Specs has to deal with,” Noct agrees, munching on a french fry.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Still handsome, though,” Prompto says.

“You’re far too kind. I must admit, it’d be rather interesting to see life through the eyes of one Prompto Argentum. Taking photographs, finding the beauty in everything, none of the pressures I face. It’d be quite a lovely vacation.”

“Hey, man, my life ain’t so peachy either,” Prompto says. “Though, not nearly as important.”

Ignis frowns at Prompto’s assessment, leveling a scolding glance at him. “Nonsense, now. You’ll find you’re very important, even if you don’t see it.”

“Yeah, cut that out, nerd,” Noctis says, tossing a fry at him.

Prompto snorts, unable to properly accept compliments. “You guys are biased.”

Gladio shakes his head. “My opinion still stands. You’d both suck at being each other.” He downs the last of his beer, crossing his arms as he sets it on the table. “...Despite how cute you guys are like this.”

Noctis looks over at the two of them, then over at Gladio. “Yeah, they are pretty cute, huh? It’s kinda gross.”

Gladio grins. “Super gross.”

Ignis sighs dramatically, and Prompto’s shocked to see a gentle flush of pink to Ignis’s cheeks. “Must you be so juvenile?”

Prompto beams. “I think that’s their version of a compliment, Iggy.”

Ignis chuckles, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I see.”

If there’s one thing that can get Prompto out of a nervous, superstitious crisis, it’s his friends (Ignis’s handsome face certainly helps, too). He’s almost able to push all of his worries to the back of his mind in favor of kicking back with his best friends in the whole world. Ignis reaches under the booth and holds his hand halfway into the night, and it calms him even further.

Prompto has no idea if this date is going well -- he thinks it does, but it’s also a first date, and he can’t help but worry that the tactician is secretly thinking of just going back to being friends, as he isn’t overly affectionate.

It’s with that reason that Prompto’s surprised when Ignis asks to escort him home after their bellies are full and the night is coming to a close.

“But of course I would take you home, Prompto. This is our first date, after all, isn’t it?” Ignis teases, bringing Prompto’s hand to his lips.

Prompto’s heart flip-flops in his chest at the sweet gesture, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. “Ya got me there, Igster.”

Ignis, the handsome, charming bastard that he is, walks Prompto all the way to his door. It both charms Prompto and makes him nervous, as he’s seen enough rom-coms to know what happens next.

“I apologize our first date was a bit of a group setting,” Ignis says. “I didn’t wish to push our plans with Gladio and Noct to the side, but I also am admittedly… a rather impatient man, and I was tired of hiding my feelings for you.”

Prompto smiles at him, genuinely. “No, I totally loved it, yo! The laid-back setting totally calmed me down. Well, apart from Friday the 13th, y’know. But it made the first date thing not so scary!”

Ignis’s returning smile is nearly blinding with how beautifully alluring it is. “Mmm. I’m relieved you think so. If I may be so bold, I was wondering if perhaps you’d accompany me to dinner with just the two of us, however?”

Prompto blinks in surprise, hope bubbling up in his chest. “Y-yeah? You’d want to?” he asks excitedly, which is pretty stupid, considering Ignis just confirmed such.

“I did just clarify that, did I not?” Ignis teases affectionately. “Of course I do. I had a wonderful time this evening-- I do hope you did, as well?”

Prompto laughs sheepishly. “You’re right, sorry. I totally… uh, can’t believe you even like me, dude. I’d love to see you again. I’d die to, actually, not to sound, um, desperate or anything.” He snorts.

Ignis huffs out a laugh, taking Prompto’s hand. “I more than like you, Prompto, if I haven’t made that clear.”

Prompto could close his eyes and replay Ignis’s elegant accent on a loop saying such things to him. “Yeah. I mean, I had a great time tonight too. And we didn’t die or swap meat suits or anything like that, so that’s a plus!”

“Always a plus, in my book.” Ignis shakes his head fondly before his expression grows soft, maybe a little sheepish, too. “May I kiss you?”

Prompto responds by tugging on Ignis’s stupidly attractive suspenders, bringing his head down for a messy yet affectionate kiss. They both smile against one another’s mouths, soft lips melting against each other. Ignis tastes like wine and the sugary sweet of their pumpkin dessert, and it’s intoxicating. Ignis’s hand cups Prompto’s cheek, diving back in more than once, unable to get enough of Prompto, which drives him wild.

Prompto goes to bed thinking of the kiss with a smile on his face. He survived Friday the 13th, too, so that’s always a bonus. He can’t wait until their next date, and falls asleep thinking of the way Ignis’s lips fit so well against his own.

-----

Prompto groans when his phone ringing stirs him from a restful sleep, morning light streaming in through his curtains. He must have been sleeping for a while -- his voice is deeper than normal from lack of use.

He sees Noctis’s name on the caller ID, and with a sigh, he realizes he’ll have to answer. He brings the phone to his ear, and answers with a slightly annoyed, “Yo, what’s up?”

Prompto clears his throat. Man, his voice really is deeper today, and it almost sounds… accented? Maybe Prompto’s hanging out with Ignis too much.

There’s a long silence on the other end, and Prompto almost wonders if Noctis was thinking the same thing, until he finally responds. “Holy shit, Specs? I didn’t know you were staying the night at Prom’s. Way to go, dude.” Noctis laughs.

Prompto freezes, frowning. Why the hell does Noctis think Ignis stayed the night here? “What--? Specs--?”

Noctis lets out a few more snickers before responding. “Oh, I get it, you’re playin’ dumb. You know, when you answer from Prompto’s phone, it’s not very slick, man. Just tell Prom training got moved up to this afternoon, so he better get ready for that. I don’t gotta tell you that, though, you already know, right? Alright, talk to you later, Specs.”

“Wait, Noct--” Prompto starts, completely and totally confused, but Noctis has already hung up.

Prompto looks around. Ignis certainly isn’t here, and he has no idea why Noctis thinks that he is. Prompto definitely isn’t Ignis, apart from the weird voice thing.

“Did I really sound like Iggy…?” Prompto asks himself, and then freezes. His voice suspiciously sounds accented, and Prompto wonders if he says something more Ignis-like that it’ll catch on. He clears his throat again, taking a deep breath. “Cheerio, jolly good, absolutely marvelous… ” he attempts all the words he’d never naturally say, and his eyes widen.

Yep, that’s definitely Iggy’s voice.

Prompto reaches up to touch his face, hoping this is just some weird nightmare. There’s no way anything like this could possibly happen, right? They were just talking about how stupid it was, how could this even be happening? It has to be a dream.

As soon as Prompto’s fingers touch the smooth, sculpted cheekbones of a face that definitely isn’t his, he lets out an anxious whine. He slides his hands up to touch his hair, and finds that his usual hair part is completely gone, replaced by soft hair covering his forehead almost entirely. Prompto swallows nervously as he slides his fingers to his nose, feeling that familiar bump on the bridge that he finds so charming on none other than Ignis.

Prompto definitely doesn’t scream, but makes a sound suspiciously similar to one as he practically falls out of bed, racing to his bathroom.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Prompto blurts, and it only makes it worse, because it’s Ignis’s voice letting out such unrefined expletives.

Turning on the light to look in the mirror was a bad idea. When he finds Ignis’s handsome face staring back at him instead of his own, the wide-eyed expression almost comical on Ignis’s usually stoic features, Prompto may or may not be screaming now.

Prompto reaches down to pinch himself, wincing when it hurts. Is he not dreaming? He has to be dreaming.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Prompto says, and then lets out a hysterical laugh when Ignis’s accent softens the blow of his words.

Has Ignis ever said fuck around him? Maybe once or twice, but not often.

In a moment of weakness, and perhaps a bit more hysteria, Prompto says it again. “Fuck.” He looks in the mirror, touching Ignis’s face -- his own face -- and then clutches the bathroom sink for balance as he takes a deep breath.

Prompto’s managed to wake up in Ignis’s body, and he’s completely unsure how, other than Friday the fucking 13th.

Prompto lets out a whine, once again comical in Ignis’s voice. He knew last night was too good to be true.

He’s startled by his phone ringing on the bedside table, and it reminds him that he definitely needs to call Ignis, right now. He wonders if Ignis is still Ignis, and he’s just running around as a carbon-copy of the handsome bastard. That would definitely not be ideal.

Prompto sighs in relief when he sees Ignis’s name on the Caller ID. He can’t answer fast enough.

“Holy shit, Iggy, you’ve gotta fucking help me--” Prompto blurts, realizing only now that Ignis is going to be hearing his own voice talking back to him.

The silence is deafening, and Prompto hears the familiar cadence of his own voice -- his real voice -- responding to him. “I do believe we have a problem, Prompto.”

Prompto could almost laugh at the sound of his own voice with such a calm, dignified edge to it, but it’s not really a laughing matter right now.

“Holy shit. You’re me, too,” Prompto says, not bothering to even try to talk more like Ignis.

“I’m on my way. Don’t leave your flat,” Ignis says.

Prompto can’t help but snicker. “Okay, I would never say flat, you gotta stop that.”

“You’re actually going to lecture me on elocution when you’re utterly butchering any semblance of my usual speech without a moment’s thought?”

Prompto blinks, wide-eyed, never expecting to hear his usual voice say such sharp words. He lets out another snicker. “Um. I’m having a moment, here, dude.”

Ignis lets out a sigh; now that’s a familiar noise coming from Prompto’s voice, at least. “Try to remain calm. I’ll be there in but a moment. I’m already in my car.”

Prompto nods, shaking his head to get some of Ignis’s ash blonde hair out of his face -- he hates hair on his forehead. “Okay, please hurry.”

“We will figure this out,” Ignis says, voice confident despite it not actually being his own. “Did I mention to not leave the flat?”

“Where the hell am I gonna go?” Prompto points out. ”I’m waiting for you, Iggy.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Prompto almost thinks Ignis has hung up until he hears soft laughter on the other end of the phone. “That is so strange coming from my own voice, I must admit.”

Prompto rolls his eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it, dude! I sound like a posh Tenebraean that’s had too much to drink and you’re speaking fancy with my dumb accent. I think I might faint.”

“Stay seated, then, won’t you? I’m almost there.”

With that, Ignis hangs up, and Prompto can’t get the sound of his own voice talking like Ignis out of his head.

When Ignis knocks on the door, Prompto can’t race over fast enough. He laughs, only slightly hysterically, when he realizes just how tall he really is compared to normal. He kicks the front door with one of Ignis’s long legs before he answers.

Of course, Prompto was mentally prepared to see his own shorter, scrawny body staring at him, but he wasn’t actually prepared for it.

“Oh, holy shit,” Prompto says, once again butchering Ignis’s elegant accent in favor of staring at Ignis -- himself -- with wide eyes.

Ignis’s eyes travel up and down Prompto’s (Ignis’s) body, looking equally perplexed in a totally different way. “Well, that’s quite something, isn’t it?”

Prompto snorts, trying so hard not to laugh at how stoic and refined Ignis carries himself in Prompto’s body. He steps aside to let Ignis in, closing the door behind him.

“Wait, is that really how my hair looks from behind?” Prompto asks incredulously. “That’s so weird.”

Ignis shoots him a look that Prompto himself would never wear, and Prompto finds himself trying so hard not to just laugh at everything. It can’t hurt if you laugh at it, right? Ignis must notice the panic in Prompto’s face, because his face softens (now that looks more like Prompto), and he closes the distance between them.

“Astrals, you haven’t even styled mine, it’s a mess,” Ignis tells him, reaching up to brush some (of his own) hair away from Prompto’s forehead.

Prompto sighs. “Like I know how to style this crap, dude.” He crosses his arms, biting his lip. “What are we gonna do? How long are we gonna be like this? How do we fix this? I can’t be you! Gladio was right! I’m spiralling, and your legs are too long to walk in. Why are your legs so long?”

Ignis huffs out a laugh. “I know it’s a bit difficult right now, but I do need you to calm down. Take a breath, Prompto.”

Prompto eyes Ignis warily. “That’s really weird coming out of my mouth. Like I’m talking to myself.”

Ignis smiles. “You talk to yourself all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s me, and not you. Oh, Gods, you… you’re me. Oh, shit.” Prompto sways a little, the realization of it hitting him full-force. “Holy shit, you got dressed! You saw me naked!” 

Ignis rolls his eyes. “I didn’t look at anything I didn’t have to, Prompto. I told you to relax. Might I remind you that you will have to get dressed as well? I don’t think heading to work in pajamas would be ideal, given what I do for a living.”

Prompto attempts a deep breath, but fails when Ignis’s words register. “Work? Hell no, we’re taking the day off.”

Ignis walks up to him, reaching up to rest his hand on Prompto’s shoulder. It’s strange in itself, because Prompto’s not used to Ignis having to reach up to touch him. Their heights, obviously, are usually reversed. “I need you to take a deep breath, Prompto. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Usually, Ignis’s words and voice would soothe him instantly, but when it’s just Prompto’s voice, it doesn’t work as well. Still, Prompto closes his eyes, letting himself breathe. “Okay.”

“Alright. Now, we cannot take the day off, I’m afraid. I have a very important conference today with his majesty, and you have mandatory crownsguard training.”

Prompto’s eyes blink open worriedly. “Um. How the hell are we gonna do that? I can’t exactly show up to crownsguard looking like this. I’m you, dude!”

Ignis smirks, a strange look on Prompto’s features. “Precisely. We’ll have to be each other for the day.”

Prompto starts to hyperventilate again. “Nope. No, hells no. Can’t do it. Are you seeing me right now? I can’t even style your hair, man, let alone pretend to know what I’m doing to the king of Lucis!” he squeaks. He’s managed to ruin the beauty of Ignis’s accent in less than an hour, record time.

“I will assist you,” Ignis says as he tucks a lock of his hair behind his ear, clearly already annoyed with Prompto’s hairstyle. “I’ll put an earpiece in your ear, and I’ll tell you what to say. But I will need you to avoid using slang. And not addressing his majesty as ‘dude’, perhaps?”

Prompto shakes his head in disbelief. “Okay, I’m not gonna lie, my voice sounds really cute when you talk all fancy.”

Ignis smiles, his cheeks turning a deep red. “That’s something, at least.”

Prompto’s eyebrows raise. “Holy shit, you’re blushing so bad, dude. Do I really blush that easily?”

Ignis blinks in surprise, reaching up to touch the warmth on his cheek sheepishly. “It would appear so. Bloody hell, this is going to be a nightmare.”

It’s Prompto’s turn to be amused, especially with the ‘bloody hell’ that leaves Ignis’s (Prompto’s) mouth. “Yep, you have to deal with the Super Blush, there’s no solution for that, sorry.”

“I’ll start to doubt that you really like me, if you flush this easily,” Ignis laments with a sigh.

“I mean, I do like you, but I don’t like you when you look just like me. ” Prompto grimaces.

“I can certainly relate,” Ignis promises.

Prompto sighs. “Well, this sucks. I hope it’ll fix itself soon, because, um, we had a date. And… wait, can you even do my training today?”

Ignis narrows his eyes, amused. “Prompto, might I remind you that I passed my training already?”

“Yeah, but my aim tests are today,” Prompto points out. “You don’t use guns!”

“It isn’t my preferred weapon of choice, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pass your tests,” Ignis says. “But we will be working privately to ensure that you can pass the test as well.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose. “Fine, but it’s really hard to look at you with any authority when you’re wearing my face, dude.”

Ignis can’t help but smile. “Hopefully it won’t be for much longer. The conference is in an hour, I’m already running late. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Uhh, Igster, I’m at my place. I don’t have any fancy clothes,” Prompto reminds him.

Ignis looks as if he’s about to keel over, the blood draining from his face. Prompto feels a little bad for Ignis, but he can’t help but snort as the expression looks absolutely hilarious on Prompto’s features. Ignis reaches out, tugging on his wrist. “We’re leaving, let’s go. Get your phone.”

Prompto laughs as he grabs his phone and any possible thing he could need for the day -- as Ignis -- and lets Ignis drag him out of the door.

Prompto bets it’s super comical to anyone else; Prompto’s body tugging a slightly-terrified-looking Ignis body out the door and into a car.

Ignis practically floors it to his apartment, and Prompto can’t help but laugh again. 

“Something humorous?” Ignis asks, flushing easily due to Prompto’s complexion.

“You look so serious driving the car with my body,” Prompto notes, “but it just looks like I’m angry about something. Your usually chill expression looks angry on my face.”

Ignis glances at him warily, a tiny smile on his face. “Yes, well, it’s likely an improvement on looking at you. I never knew I could appear so cartoonishly constipated.”

Prompto feels his jaw drop. “Iggy!” 

Ignis laughs. “It’s the truth, love.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose. The words are charming, as they’re from Ignis, but coming from his own mouth, it’s a bit weird. “Hmm. Weird.”

“Yes, perhaps I shouldn’t have said that while…” Ignis trails off.

“Inside of me?” Prompto finishes for him.

“Prompto, please. ” 

Prompto can hardly stop laughing as Ignis peels smoothly into the parking lot of his apartment building. Before he knows it, he’s being shoved into Ignis’s huge closet. It’s even more of a trip watching his real body sort through Ignis’s clothes, selecting a dress shirt and jacket for him to wear, complete with a tie.

“We don’t have time for you to raid my closet,” Ignis explains, thrusting the clothes against Prompto’s chest. “Put these on, and… try not to dawdle.”

Prompto can’t help but smirk. “You just don’t want me to look at your body naked, huh?”

Ignis frowns, a funny expression on Prompto’s face. “Don’t be juvenile, Prompto.”

Prompto snickers, shoving Ignis playfully as he walks into Ignis’s bathroom. With a deep breath, he shuts the door and starts ridding himself of his sleepwear. His eyes widen when he catches his reflection in the mirror.

Of course, Prompto’s had tiny glimpses of Ignis shirtless, but never like this. He’s never seen it fully on display, entirely alone without any prying eyes. Prompto can look at Ignis as long as he wants to, technically. Prompto slides a hand down his stomach, whistling under his breath.

“Shit, Iggy, I didn’t know you had a six pack like this,” Prompto calls out, hoping Ignis can hear him.

“Prompto, please stop ogling me and get dressed. I’m utterly mortified,” Ignis responds.

Prompto closes his eyes, doubling over with laughter at the sound of those words coming from Prompto’s voice, and not Ignis’s. “Alright, alright, sorry.”

Prompto touches Ignis’s abs one last time (after all, who wouldn’t?) before he slides Ignis’s shirt over his head, buttoning it swiftly. Prompto bites his lip when he stares down at his pajama pants. Obviously, he has an opportunity to be inappropriate here, but somehow, it feels sort of wrong. Ignis clearly has a problem with Prompto seeing him naked right now, so he closes his eyes and switches his pants out as fast as he can.

After all, it’d be totally weird to get a boner with your crush’s dick. Right? That’s weird.

With a heavy sigh, Prompto opens the bathroom door. “I think I’m done. I don’t know how to tie a tie, man. Please help.”

Ignis uncrosses his legs (which looks so weird with Prompto’s body), and walks over to the bathroom. He reaches up to wrap the tie around Prompto’s neck, sighing softly as he ties it gently.

“You’re doing wonderfully thus far,” Ignis says. “Try to talk a bit like me, won’t you? Again, I don’t want any slang in the conference room.”

Prompto groans. “I got it, I got it. Um. Bloody hell. Certainly. Indubitably. Cheers. Magnificent.”

Ignis smiles a bit. “That will have to do for now. Don’t force it, however. I’d much rather sound casual than purposely silly.”

Prompto frowns. “Gee, thanks.”

Ignis reaches up to cup Prompto’s face, nose wrinkling as he stares at his own body. It’s also equally weird for Prompto, as he’s practically caressing himself. “You know that isn’t what I meant. Now, let me style your hair.”

Prompto has no idea how he ended up in Ignis’s bathroom, with Ignis -- who looks like Prompto -- teasing his hair off of his forehead, but this is definitely the strangest situation he’s ever been in. Ignis manages to style his hair in only a few minutes, impressively enough.

Prompto looks in the mirror, eyes widening. “Hey, I look like you!” Prompto gushes. “Gods, I’m so handsome.” He reaches up to touch his face. “Iggy, how are you so hot?”

Prompto looks over to find Ignis a brilliant shade of red, courtesy of Prompto’s easy flush. “Do refrain from saying such things in public? I would hate for people to think I’m conceited.”

Prompto giggles, sounding so strange with Ignis’s accent. “You don’t care what people think.”

“Regardless, humor me,” Ignis says with a sigh.

“What about you, man? You gonna make me sound like a butler around Noct? He’s gonna be so weirded out,” Prompto points out, looking down (down? so weird) at Ignis warily.

“I will make do, now, don’t worry about that,” Ignis promises. He heads over to a desk in the corner of his room, and pulls out a subtle-looking earpiece. “I use this when I need to remain in touch with Gladio during balls and various other events. You will be able to hear me, but no one else will.” He puts the earpiece in Prompto’s ear before lifting his own arm to speak. “Can you hear me?”

Surely enough, Ignis’s (well, Prompto’s , actually) voice sounds in his ear. Prompto nods. “Yep. Sure can. What the hell is this conference about, anyway?”

“We’re discussing treaties with Accordo today,” Ignis explains. “Noct will be there with you before he joins me on the training grounds, so… try to stay ‘in character’, hmm? It would just sully things if he were to find out.”

Prompto grimaces. “D’you really think we can keep this from him? Or Gladio?”

“We’ll try, and see how it goes,” Ignis says.

Prompto nods. “Okay. Can you at least try to sound like me, too? I’ve got a reputation, dude.”

Ignis sighs. “Sure thing, dude.”

Prompto barks out a laugh. “Holy shit, okay, I know it just sounds like me, but man, that’s hilarious.”

“I’m happy to entertain. Now, the conference is in twenty minutes, we really ought to get going,” Ignis says, ushering Prompto out of his bedroom. 

Ignis walks up to the fridge, which comically just looks like Prompto’s body is raiding Ignis’s fridge, and pulls out a can of Ebony. He presses it into Prompto’s palm. “Here, drink this. I doubt my body can function without it.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose. “Oh, man, Ebony? ” He sighs. “Fine, fine. I’ll drink it on the way.”

Ignis nods. He looks at Prompto for a moment, and then snaps his fingers. “Wait. I forgot something.” He disappears into his bedroom without another word.

Anxiety works his way through Prompto’s -- Ignis’s -- stomach, and he decides to open the can of Ebony now. Maybe it’ll settle his stomach or something, but he doubts the caffeine will help with the anxiety.

Ignis returns with a pair of gloves, holding them out for Prompto to take. “Put these on, please.”

Prompto laughs. “Yep, can’t forget the signature gloves.” He tugs them on his hands, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Damn, yeah, these are hot.” He playfully reaches out to stroke Ignis’s cheek with the gloves. “No wonder you have so much power.”

Ignis’s cheeks light up with flush. “Are you being purposely flirtatious? You’ve never mentioned my gloves before.”

Prompto grins. “I didn’t wanna seem weird, like I have some sort of glove fetish.”

Ignis snorts. “I see. Come, let’s go.”

Prompto follows him, still wiggling his fingers with the gloves on. On the bright side, he looks like a supermodel right now. He always wondered what it was like to be someone as handsome as Ignis. Of course, this definitely isn’t the way he wanted to find out, but at least he looks good for however long he’s stuck like this.

The ‘bright side’ portion of his thoughts quickly fades as soon as Ignis pulls up to the citadel, Prompto resisting the urge to theatrically gulp.

Prompto is so screwed.

“Prompto,” Ignis soothes. “It will be alright.”

The words, again, don’t sound very comforting coming from Prompto’s own voice, but Prompto tries to focus on them.

Prompto follows Ignis into the citadel, which probably looks pretty interesting when it should be the other way around, given the bodies they’re currently occupying.

“This is as far as I should go,” Ignis tells him in a hushed tone. “Down the hall, you want Conference Room A. Remember, do as I tell you, and address the king properly.”

Prompto nods. “Certainly.”

Ignis smiles at Prompto’s attempt to sound refined. “Wonderful. Stay calm, Prompto.”

“Bye, Iggy.”

With a deep breath, Prompto pushes his way into the proper conference room, hoping no one notices that he’s not actually Ignis at all.

Noctis lifts his head up as soon as Prompto walks in the room, sitting next to Gladio. “Hey, Specs,” Noctis says. “Have a fun night?”

Prompto resists the urge to sweat. “Er, splendid. It was lovely,” he says, hoping that sounds Ignis-like enough.

“Damn. You’re still feelin’ it, huh?” Gladio teases. “Blondie must have done a number on you.”

“Must you be so juvenile?” he asks, remembering that Ignis said that to him earlier. Prompto isn’t sure which chair to sit in, so he sits at the end of the table, sighing.

Prompto, don’t--” Ignis tells him through the earpiece, though it’s a bit strange, as it’s just Prompto’s voice.

“Why are you sitting in my dad’s chair?” Noctis wonders. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Prompto tries not to widen his eyes too much as he scrambles out of the chair and into one across from Noctis instead. “I was simply testing you, duh.” He swallows when he realizes that ‘duh’ is definitely not on the list of terms that Ignis would use.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Iggy?” Gladio asks, face sobering. “You look like you got a stick up your ass… well, like, not in the usual way.”

Before Prompto can grace Gladio with a response, the door opens, and Regis enters, along with an older woman with light hair and skin. Prompto can’t recognize her, but he didn’t really expect to.

Stand slowly, and bow to them both, His Majesty first, Madam Secretary second,” Ignis tells him through the earpiece. “ That’s Camelia Claustra, First Secretary of Accordo.”

Prompto unclenches his fists anxiously, doing as Ignis tells him. No one seems to notice anything at first, thankfully, and they all take their seats.

“Thank you, Madam Secretary, for agreeing to this conference today,” Regis says smoothly.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” she responds. “Let’s discuss terms, as you know, Accordo is in alliance with the Empire, so you will need to respect these terms.”

“Of course,” Regis responds.

“Prompto, retrieve the third document in the folder, and extend it to His Majesty,” Ignis says in his ear.

Regis nods to Prompto as he accepts the document. His heart thuds a hundred miles an hour as Regis and Claudia go over the document. 

“And the crown prince has understood these terms, as well?” Claudia prods.

Repeat after me, Prompto,” Ignis says.

Prompto takes a deep breath, listening to Ignis’s words in his ear. “Yes, His Highness is fully understanding and willing to follow these terms in addition to His Majesty, Madam Secretary. The, uh--” Prompto stumbles over his words, “--the union to Lady Lunafreya will proceed as p-planned.”

Deep breath, now. You’re doing quite fine, merely a stumble, that’s all. Look at the secretary as she addresses you, do not interrupt her,” Ignis whispers to him.

Prompto can feel Noctis’s eyes shooting a hole into his skull, but he doesn’t dare look away from the secretary as she speaks.

“And you will be escorting him to Altissia yourself?” Claudia asks Prompto.

Repeat after me, again,” Ignis says.

Prompto clears his throat. “Yes, the three of his retainers will escort him firsthand. Myself, Gladio, and Ignis.” Prompto’s heart nearly stops, as he realizes his error far too late.

Correct it, and move on. Come on, darling,” Ignis assures him urgently.

Prompto doesn’t even care that it’s his own voice calling him darling, he’ll take whatever he can get now in terms of comfort. “Prompto, apologies, I meant Prompto, forgive me.”

Claudia nods, seemingly unbothered. “And should the Empire protest such a union?”

Tell them we’ll handle it on our end.”

Prompto repeats the words, voice wavering only slightly after his earlier fuckup. He finally meets Noctis’s eyes after the secretary’s attention leaves Prompto’s, and he’s looking at him with a peculiar expression.

“Prince Noctis, if I might ask you to discuss these conditions with me?” Claudia asks him.

Noctis’s attention returns to the secretary as he nods, sitting up straight. He clears his throat. “Um, of course, Madam.”

Noct will need to do this himself, but I’ve prepared him on it. Follow the list, and ensure he tackles every point. It’s the first document in the folder,” Ignis explains.

Prompto nods to no one in particular, following the document almost religiously. He’s already so embarrassed from the last time he screwed up, he feels like he’s only seconds from passing out.

Noctis stumbles on a point, forgetting the entirety of it, and Prompto immediately corrects him.

“Thanks, Ignis,” Noctis says absentmindedly.

“No sweat,” Prompto blurts, before realizing how informal his words are. 

Noctis raises his eyebrows, and the room goes a bit quiet, but not entirely. Noctis continues down the list, and Prompto relaxes, but only slightly.

“Push it from your mind. It isn’t anything I cannot fix with a bit of damage control,” Ignis assures him.

Prompto lets out the world’s tiniest sigh. He’d probably have fainted by now if it weren’t for Ignis in his ear, and he’s never been more grateful to the man in his entire life. Every time Ignis has to go through a conference, Prompto makes a mental note to give him a blowjob as a reward for dealing with it -- once their bodies swap back, of course.

The rest of the conference goes by as well as it possibly could, Prompto only slipping up on the casual language once or twice. Ignis continues to be an angel in his ear, and Prompto weirdly gets used to Ignis’s refined language coming out of his own tongue.

As soon as everyone in the room files out except for Noctis and Gladio, Prompto lets out a loud sigh. “Shit, I almost blew that.”

Gladio and Noctis both look at Prompto with a confused expression. “Um. Yeah, about that, what the hell is up with you today, Specs?” Noctis asks.

“Are you stoned or something?” Gladio adds.

Prompto stiffens, completely forgetting that he can’t quite relax yet. “Er, no, apologies. I have a… bit of a headache, ‘tis all.”

“‘Tis?” Noctis asks, laughing a little.

Prompto, that’s a bit too much. I’ve never said ‘tis in my life,” Ignis tells him in his ear, chuckling a little.

“Must be a hell of a headache,” Gladio notes, an eyebrow still raised.

“Yes, well, drat, it’s dreadful,” Prompto says, cringing as his attempt to fix matters only end up worse. “How are you lot?”

“Okay, I guess,” Noctis says, still eyeing Ignis warily.

“We should go see blondie take his last training test,” Gladio says. “C’mon, let’s go root for your boyfriend.”

Prompto laughs nervously. “Right, we ought to… cheer him up, right? Cheerio.”

“I swear, are you sure you’re not drinking?” Noctis laughs as they head out of the room.

“Perhaps someone spiked my Ebony,” Prompto jokes weakly, hoping someone changes the subject. Talking as Ignis -- as bad as Prompto is at it -- is thoroughly exhausting, to say the least.

When they exit the elevator to the ground floor, Ignis is waiting for them. Prompto nearly stops in his tracks when he realizes that he left Ignis to go home and dress himself and style his hair. He doesn’t really look like ‘Prompto’, at all. 

Ignis is wearing one of Prompto’s tanks, but he’s wearing a cardigan with it. His hair isn’t styled up on one side at all, in fact, his bangs are down , almost covering his eyebrows. Prompto doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at Ignis’s butchering of his style, but he has to admit, his own self does look adorable in a nerdy sort of way -- he’d have to try that look for himself sometime.

Ignis looks relieved when they walk into view, though, and Prompto finds himself walking into Ignis’s outstretched arms. It’s a bit strange; Prompto had no idea what it was like to hug himself until this very moment.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, Prom?” Noctis asks fondly. “And what’s with your hair?” He ruffles Ignis’s hair playfully.

Ignis turns to face Noctis, flushing bright red. Prompto would laugh at the sight if he wasn’t so mortified at how embarrassing it is to watch himself blush in front of Noctis.

“Er, I’m… moral support, I suppose--guess,” Ignis corrects himself. “What’s up, dudes?”

Ignis’s accent is obviously not present, as he’s speaking with Prompto’s, but the way he forces the term, ‘dudes’ makes it almost seem like the Tenebraean accent never left -- the slang is so forced, it’s a little funny.

“I do believe Prompto ran out of hair gel, we’ll have to stop and get you some soon,” Prompto says, leveling a panicked look at Ignis.

“Certainly--sure thing!” Ignis corrects again.

Prompto definitely figured Ignis would have a better lid on sounding like Prompto than Prompto could with Ignis , but it turns out, Ignis is just as terrible at this as he is. It’s both comforting and mortifying, if he’s honest.

Gladio looks between the both of them. “You two get laid last night or something? You’re bein’ super weird.”

Gladio,” Ignis hisses, tone scolding, and it sounds so parental there’s no way it passes for Prompto at all.

“Huh. I’d usually expect that outta Specs, not you,” Noctis notes. “Guess you guys are made for each other.”

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose, and Prompto’s never seen his body look so annoyed in all his life. “Yes, that’s one word for it,” Ignis says, huffing out a sigh.

“We ought to… depart,” Prompto says, not wanting to sound too casual, “my--er, Prompto’s test is soon.”

“Aww, babe, were you going to say your boyfriend?” Ignis asks smoothly, covering up Prompto’s error nicely.

Prompto lets out a nervous laugh. “Ah, yeah--yes, you got me there, darling… Prompto…”

Noctis raises an eyebrow, looking at them both warily. “Hmm. Yeah, okay, this is a little weird, not gonna lie, let’s get outta here. You nervous, Prom?” He wraps an arm around Ignis.

Ignis lets out a confident laugh. “I’ve not a worry in the world.”

“Huh? Really? You were sweating bullets about it last week,” Noctis says.

Prompto clears his throat, hoping to remind Ignis somehow that he’s not really playing the whole Anxiety-Ridden-Prompto part very well.

Ignis stiffens under Noctis’s arm. “Ah. Right. Mind over matter, I guess, huh?”

Prompto sighs. That’s better than nothing, he supposes.

-----

Prompto instinctively heads to the passenger’s side of the car before he realizes that everyone expects Ignis to drive, so he finds himself behind the wheel of the car.

At least Prompto can drive; he’s done it before, but it makes Ignis a nervous wreck. So, he has to deal with Ignis-as-Prompto bouncing nervously in the passenger’s seat. It’s actually beneficial, because it appears as if Ignis is nervous about Prompto’s test instead of the real Prompto driving their prince around.

If Prompto’s honest, though, he’s really glad he doesn’t have to take this test himself. He doesn’t trust anyone more than he trusts Ignis to pass it. He doesn’t do so well with testing. He’ll do a lot better with aim in the company of Ignis than people as scary as Marshall Leonis.

Prompto follows Ignis into the locker rooms, helping Ignis with the combination to his locker as he waits for him to change into his training fatigues.

“So, um, can you please reassure me and tell me I didn’t get you fired, Iggy?” Prompto asks. “That conference went so bad.”

“You did as well as one could under that sort of pressure,” Ignis assures him, slipping into Prompto’s usual training fatigues. “I’m very proud of you, and I truly owe you.”

Prompto sighs, relaxing a little, trusting Ignis. “I’m really sorry I fucked up, though.”

Ignis reaches out and puts a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, smiling. “You needn’t apologize. I’m not exactly being the best ‘Prompto’ I can be.”

Prompto can’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, you dress like a dweeb and what did you do to my hair?!”

“I combed it forward,” Ignis responds defensively. “I have no idea how you maintain such a chocobo’s ass on your head so adorably, but it isn’t a skill I have yet to acquire.”

Prompto grins. “Aww, babe. You’ll learn with time!” 

Ignis’s eyebrows raise. “Hearing my own voice call me ‘babe’ is certainly something, I see what you mean.” He sighs. “I’ll try to do better. I’m not accustomed to speaking so--”

“Stupidly?” Prompto offers.

Ignis frowns. “ Casually. You’re very casual. It doesn’t mean you are unintelligent. You’re very smart when need be.”

Prompto bites his lip, his words reminding him of something. “Thanks. Speaking of, you gonna be okay disassembling the machinery I use?”

Ignis freezes. “Beg pardon?”

Prompto laughs. “After my aiming portion, I have to prove to the marshall I can properly use my machinery in battle. Is, uh, that gonna be a problem?”

Ignis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Give me the earpiece. It appears we’ll have to switch roles once more.” He plucks the microphone off of himself and hands it to Prompto. “If I cannot figure it out myself, you’ll have to tell me through this microphone.” He clips it to Prompto’s collar.

“You don’t know how to use a gravity well? It’s not that hard,” Prompto scoffs.

Ignis purses his lips. “I’m far more tactical than mechanical. You tinker more than I.” He smiles. “I told you that you’re intelligent.”

Prompto crosses his arms. “Wow. Something I can do that you can’t. Never thought that’d happen.”

“There are many things you can do that I cannot,” Ignis assures him. He checks the time on his phone, and sighs. “Alright, I best be off.”

“Break a leg,” Prompto says. “Or, well, don’t, ‘cause that’s my leg, and I don’t wanna have to use crutches on this dumb road trip comin’ up.”

Ignis chuckles. “I appreciate the sentiment.” He pauses just before exiting. “I would… kiss you, but… it wouldn’t be the same--”

“Yeah, no, it’d be totally weird. Not that I haven’t thought about kissin’ myself, but…” Prompto laughs.

Ignis shakes his head fondly. He reaches up to push the glasses back up Prompto’s nose, having slid down after a while. “Cute. I’ll see you after, then perhaps we can get this… predicament sorted out, hmm?”

Prompto nods. “Gods, I really hope so.”

Prompto heads out onto the grounds to join Gladio and Noctis. The marshall waits for Ignis, and Prompto nearly gulps when he sees his own body walk up to Cor. He’s not really worried about Ignis’s aim or ability to use weapons, but he prays to all six of the Astrals that he’ll be able to explain how to properly set up a gravity well while Ignis is focusing on a fight.

“You look nervous, Specs,” Noctis notes, elbowing him. “Worried about Prom?”

Prompto freezes. “More or less.” He supposes that’s Ignis-like enough to say. 

Gladio throws an arm around Prompto. “Don’t worry, Iggy, he’ll be fine.”

Prompto nods. “Yeah, dude. For sure. Just… can’t help but be anxious, you know?”

Noctis turns to stare at Prompto again. “You said dude again.”

Prompto widens his eyes. “Did I? I don’t… certainly recall that, Your Highness.”

“Can it, you two, it’s starting,” Gladio says with a grin, thinking nothing of their exchange, apparently.

The marshall starts Ignis off with simple aiming, of course, starting with his handgun. Ignis nails it easily, firing expert shots into each of the targets. He proceeds to do that with machine guns and crossbows as well, not to mention the long-range rifles.

“Well, that’s something,” Prompto says, not sure what the best thing to say is when he’s watching his own body exhibit such confidence.

“Damn, he looks good out there,” Gladio notes. “Looks like he took a page outta your book, Iggy.”

Prompto resists the urge to snort. Yeah, that would make sense. “He’s a fast learner,” Prompto says warily.

Prompto watches as the next portion of Ignis’s test is a combination of ranged and frontal attacks. He watches Ignis pull out Prompto’s sword, flipping it neatly in his hands. Prompto bites his lip, knowing that he has no idea how to flip his sword -- that well, at least. Ignis bends and kicks the sword into the target, flipping the gun in his hand to his dominant hand, and firing it into another target.

“Okay, wait…” Noctis says under his breath. Noctis watches Ignis flip across the training grounds expertly, despite being limited by Prompto’s height and lack of flexibility, and then turns to Prompto, looking at him up and down. Prompto attempts to straighten his posture, but it’s too late. “Holy shit.”

Prompto swallows nervously. “What’s the matter, Your Highness?” he asks in a last-minute attempt to convince Noct that he’s Ignis, and not Prompto.

“Did you guys… shit, you’re Prompto,” Noctis says.

Gladio looks at Noctis. “What?”

“Specs has been saying dude all day. He fucked up that conference that he’s spent six months preparing for. He said ‘no sweat’ to me, you were there! Now Prompto’s on that training ground with Ignis’s exact fighting style?” Noctis says. “What the fuck is happening?”

Gladio raises an eyebrow. “Wait, no, this is stupid.” He looks at Prompto. “What ingredients go in that seafood risotto you like so much?”

Prompto bites his lip. “Er, I’d have to get my recipe book…”

Gladio shakes his head. “Nope. No way. What’s Lady Lunafreya’s mother’s name?”

Prompto laughs nervously. “Why, don’t you know it already?” 

Noctis shoves Gladio playfully. “I fucking told you.”

“Holy shit, it’s Prompto,” Gladio says, his lips pursed. “Which means…” Gladio looks over at Ignis on the battlefield, currently attempting to assemble the gravity well.

“Shit!” Prompto gasps. “Gimme a second.”

Prompto walks away from the crowd, but not far enough to not be able to see Ignis. “Oh, man, okay, Iggy, I hope you can hear me. Charge the launcher, just tug the little lever on the side. Keep it there for, like, 10 seconds. It’ll start to shake in your hands, then pull the big lever, but only after you’ve aimed it.”

Prompto watches anxiously as Ignis does just what Prompto told him, calm and collected in the face of the unknown (unlike Prompto was earlier at the conference). Ignis aims the sphere at the target, well away from any of the spectators. Ignis finishes them off with a few rounds of the assault rifle, and Prompto relaxes a bit.

At least that’s exactly something Prompto would do.

“Okay, just push the lever off when you’re done and throw it in the armiger,” Prompto tells Ignis, but it doesn’t seem necessary, as Ignis has already disarmed himself with it.

Ignis stands up straight, bowing as the test is finished. It’s a little bit of an old school (and dramatic) move, but the marshall doesn’t seem to take notice of it.

“Well done, Prompto,” Cor says. “You passed -- with flying colors, I might add. Looks like your friendship with Ignis has paid off.”

Ignis nods his head, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Thank you, Marshall.”

Noctis and Gladio find Prompto after a minute. 

“Were you helping him cheat on your test?” Gladio asks accusingly.

“He didn’t know how to use some of the machine tech I use,” Prompto says defensively. “Don’t worry, Iggy’s totally gonna ream my ass ‘til I hit every one of those targets anyway.”

Noctis laughs. “True.”

Ignis walks up to the three of them. “Afternoon… dudes.”

Gladio bursts into laughter, clutching at his stomach and bending over with the force of it. “Holy shit, you gotta stop that, Iggy.”

Prompto watches Ignis’s (Prompto’s) face flush a bright red. “What?”

Prompto sighs. “They know.”

“You told them?” Ignis accuses.

“We guessed. Prom just called me dude and you kicked your sword into the target. Did you really expect me to believe you were Prom ?”

“Hey, I’ve done that move once,” Prompto says with a pout.

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bloody hell.”

“Okay, does anyone else think that’s fucking cute as hell comin’ from Prompto’s voice?” Gladio asks.

“This is serious, we’re fucking stuck as each other,” Prompto whines.

“Okay, the whining coming from Iggy’s voice is actually cuter, never mind,” Gladio adds.

“Gladio,” Ignis says with a sigh. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”

Noctis appears as if he’s trying to hold in laughter. “Guess I gotta play video games with Specs, now, huh?”

Prompto pouts. “What, why?”

“I meant, like, your body,” Noctis says. “What the fuck. This is confusing. We gotta fix this.”

“We’ve been trying,” Ignis says. “We’ve had a bit of a trying day.”

“I bet,” Gladio says. He turns to Prompto. “Wait, say, ‘aluminum’.”

Prompto raises his eyebrow. “Aluminum…?”

Gladio grins. “Cool. Iggy never indulges me with his accent.”

“I’m not a performing circus monkey,” Ignis says stubbornly. “Perhaps having Prompto’s accent is freeing in a way.”

Prompto smiles. “Iggy’s voice is nice, isn’t it? Everything I say sounds like velvet. Mmm.”

Now, Ignis is flushing with Prompto’s cheeks. “Come now, stop this.”

“Wait, wait,” Noctis interjects. “Prom, say, ‘Noctis is better than Ignis in every way, and I will never make him eat his vegetables again.’”

Prompto starts laughing. “Fine.” He clears his throat, and puts on his best ‘Ignis’ posture, and repeats the words.

Noctis holds his hand up to Prompto’s for a high five. “You’re the best, Prom.”

“I’m very happy you’re both entertained, but I would very much enjoy it if things were to return to normal,” Ignis says. “We had a date tonight, but now it’s utterly ruined.”

Gladio huffs out a laugh. “Yep, can’t really date yourself, huh? Alright, we’ll fix this. Is this Friday the 13th shit?”

Prompto nods vehemently. “I told you that shit was real! Now look at us!” 

Noctis smirks. “Sorry we didn’t believe you, Specs-- I mean, Prom. Shit, this body shit is confusing.”

Prompto sighs. “Tell me about it. I keep calling my real body Iggy.”

“What happened when you switched? Did you like, piss on someone’s grave or something?” Noctis asks.

“We didn’t do anything of the sort. I drove Prompto home, and that’s it,” Ignis explains. 

“Well, I mean, that’s not everything,” Prompto says, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

Gladio stares a hole into Prompto’s face. “That is such a weird gesture to see on Ignis’s body. Okay, yeah, you’re right, this is starting to creep me out. Prompto’s not meant to talk properly either, he’s too cute.”

“What’d you guys do, then?” Noctis asks. “Wait, do I wanna know--?”

Prompto sighs. “We agreed to another date, and then we, um… heh, we kissed. Our first kiss.”

“That I very much would enjoy doing again, unless if I’m stuck in the body of the man I love forever, doomed to stare at myself for all of eternity instead of him,” Ignis laments.

Prompto blinks at Ignis in shock. “You love me?” he asks, flabbergasted.

Ignis’s face softens slightly. “Of course I do, but I would prefer not to say the words to myself . I would much rather look into your eyes, not my own.”

Prompto ducks his head, dejected. “Right. Yeah, samesies. This sucks.”

“So, maybe you guys need to do it again? Undo whatever you did,” Noctis suggests.

“Wait, are you telling them they gotta kiss each other?” Gladio asks. “You know, that’s like kissing themselves, right? It’s like a mirror.”

“Yeah, can we maybe, uh, not do that?” Prompto asks.

Ignis lets out a long, tired sigh. “Since we haven’t tried it, we’ll have to explore every option.”

“Oh, man. Shit. This is gonna be weird,” Prompto whines. “Both of you look away.”

“Wait, here?” Ignis asks warily.

“Duh, here! I want this over and done with,” Prompto says. “Don’t you?! Not that I don’t mind being super handsome and fancy, I just… I’m not very good at it.”

Ignis smiles. “I understand. If I have to playfully flirt with another woman, I will absolutely lose my mind.”

“Well, technically, you don’t gotta flirt with any girls, ‘cause we’re… a thing,” Prompto points out. “So, you sorta did that for nothing.”

Gladio laughs. “It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Iggy was as stiff as a board. The girl ran off after, like, 5 seconds.”

Prompto sighs dramatically. “My reputation with the ladies, soiled.”

Gladio frowns. “Okay, yeah, you definitely gotta kiss, because that was the creepiest thing comin’ outta Iggy’s mouth.”

“I concur,” Ignis says. “Alright, Prompto, come here.”

Prompto groans, shuffling forward reluctantly. He laughs a little as they close the distance between each other. “Not used to lookin’ down at you, Iggy.”

“I know the feeling,” Ignis says. “Close your eyes, if it makes it easier.”

Prompto nods. “Huh. I’ve got a shitton of freckles this close,” he notes. “You didn’t cover ‘em up.”

Ignis raises an eyebrow. “No, why would I? They’re absolutely lovely.”

Prompto can’t help but smile. “Okay, I’m sufficiently buttered up enough for a kiss.”

With a sigh, Ignis reaches up to cup Prompto’s face. Prompto winces -- he so does not want to kiss his own face -- and stiffens when their lips touch. It’s still the same softness he experienced last night, but it’s different, and it’s totally, totally weird.

“Aw, it’d be cute if they were in the right bodies,” Gladio says.

They linger just long enough to be considered a kiss, and then they disentangle from each other. Prompto lets out a breath, wiping his mouth, and Ignis simply frowns, straightening the cardigan he’s wearing.

“Well, that was certainly an experience,” Ignis says.

Prompto looks down at himself, still tall and muscled and very much Ignis, and he sighs. “Well, that didn’t do shit.” 

Ignis’s sigh joins Prompto’s. “At least we tried. I ought to take you lot home to prepare a meal for us all.”

Noctis shakes his head. “Still so weird to hear that coming from Prompto’s voice.”

Gladio snorts. “Right?”

Prompto’s heart thuds nervously in his chest. “But, like, I don’t wanna be like this forever? I’m gonna die,” he whines.

“What happened in that movie? How’d they fix it?” Noctis asks.

“They kinda understand what it’s like to be in the other’s shoes, then wish for their bodies back,” Gladio says. Everyone turns to look at him, so he shrugs. “What? I like cheesy movies.”

Ignis lets out an annoyed hum. “Well, I bloody already know what it’s like,” he mutters. “Come on, we’re going to Noct’s until we figure this out.” He tugs on Prompto’s arm, nodding for Noctis and Gladio to follow.

Gladio snorts from behind them. “So much authority in Prompto’s body. It’s so weird.”

“I know,” Noctis whispers back.

“Hush, you two,” Ignis says, the stress clear in his tone.

Prompto doesn’t bother to argue -- especially not when Ignis is currently angry and occupying his body. He watches Ignis slide into the driver’s seat of the Regalia without a moment’s thought.

As Ignis peels out of the training ground parking lot, Gladio makes another amused noise. “Jeez, Iggy, calm down, it’s gonna be okay.”

Ignis huffs out another sigh, reaching for a can of Ebony and taking a long drink.

“You better be careful, man,” Prompto warns him. “Too much caffeine in my little body is gonna make you stay up for, like, 3 days.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Ignis says.

“I mean, it’s just really funny watching Prompto drive the car so angry. I know it’s not Prom, but…” Noctis says.

“Hey! I can drive, don’t be a dick,” Prompto says, reaching into the backseat to flick Noctis’s ear.

“Ow! Watch it, Iggy’s body is stronger than you are,” Noctis says with a whine, rubbing the side of his head.

Gladio rolls his eyes. “Prompto, sit down before you pop off one of Iggy’s fancy designer buttons and really piss him off.”

Prompto supposes Gladio has a point here. He sits in the passenger’s seat obediently after that, glancing at Ignis warily from time to time. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are tense. 

When they arrive at Noct’s place, instead of sitting down and talking about it like Prompto expects Ignis to, he watches him(self) walk into the kitchen and immediately start preparing a meal. He chops vegetables aggressively, throwing them in the pan before fetching meat from the refrigerator, chopping and seasoning that with just as much aggression.

Prompto has to admit he’s never looked in a mirror while cooking, let alone angrily cooked something, so the sight is a bit comical.

Noctis and Gladio stand against the wall opposite the kitchen, their mouths slightly agape as they watch what appears to be Prompto maneuvering through the kitchen like some sort of human stress tornado.

“So weird, Prom can’t even microwave, now it looks like he’s stress cookin’ a five-star meal,” Noctis whispers.

Gladio looks as though he doesn’t know whether to laugh or intervene. He looks at Prompto. “Well, go calm him down. He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he? Stress cooking ain’t gonna help.”

Prompto grimaces. “He’s not my boyfriend, he’s wearing my meat suit ! I can’t just walk in there and be like, ‘hey, babe, calm down’?”

Gladio rolls his eyes. “Too bad. Try it anyway.”

Prompto sighs, giving up as he walks into the kitchen. He appraises Ignis gently, not wanting to disturb him. “Hey, Iggy,” Prompto says. “Maybe you should take a break, huh? I’m worried about you.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Ignis says, chopping onions into fine dices. “The show must go on, after all. My life can’t be simple, not even for a bloody day--”

Prompto sighs, wrapping his arms around Ignis, even though it’s weird to hold his own body like this. “I’m sorry you’re stuck in my body, okay, but I’m… we’ll be okay, we’re gonna make it. I know I’m the last person you want to deal with being, I get it. But I don’t want you to overstress.”

Ignis stops chopping, allowing Prompto to hold him. He turns in his grip, looking up at Prompto with a pointed look. “Is that what you think I’m upset about?”

Prompto shrugs. “Yeah? What else would you be upset about?”

Ignis sighs. “Because if I cannot truly know what it’s like to be you, I fear we may be stuck like this. I certainly have no idea how to have as big of a heart as you do. I’m clueless when it comes to machinery, and I’ve no idea what it’s like to be considered an outsider to all of this. I expected every door to be opened for me already, and I have to work harder simply because I’m in your body. That isn’t fair at all.”

Prompto starts to laugh, smiling a little. “It’s not that bad, Iggy. You got it pretty easy, compared to what I gotta do. If it makes you feel better, I already know it’s hard to be you without this even happening. I know I joke, but it’s not just being handsome and fancy. You’ve got a shitton of work that I don’t even know about let alone know how to do it. You barely have any free time for yourself, and I have all these important people looking at me for answers, and I don’t have ‘em! I’m super stressed, dude, but I don’t wanna let you down, and I know you’re probably mad about that too, but--”

Ignis wraps his arms around Prompto finally, pulling him close. “Come here.” Prompto’s never been more grateful to hug himself in his whole life. “There’s no one I trust more than you. We will figure this out, I know it. We have each other, and that’s all that matters. Even if it’s a bit strange at the moment…” He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Prompto nods against Ignis, resting his head on his shoulder. “Okay. You’re right. I’m done spiralling. Totally done.” 

They pull apart from each other, and Prompto feels himself start to sway. The anxiety must really be getting to him, as the ground starts to spin. “Uh, I think I’m--” Prompto starts.

“Prompto?” Ignis asks worriedly.

Prompto tries to answer, but the ground swirls up toward his face just as everything goes black. 

Prompto awakens to feel pressure on his face -- slapping.

“Prom, wake up,” Noctis says, apparently hovering over him. “Wait, is this Prom, or Iggy?”

Prompto’s eyes flutter open, staring up at Noct with a confused expression. “Am I still handsome and important?” he asks, wincing.

“I mean, you are handsome and important, but not in the way that you’re scared of,” Noctis says with a grin.

Prompto gasps, sitting up. He must’ve collapsed on the kitchen floor, as he’s now laying on the fancy tile with an ache in his ass. He looks over to find Ignis in a similar predicament, happy to find that Ignis is actually Ignis, not stuck in Prompto’s body.

Prompto’s eyes linger over every beautiful inch of Ignis’s face, and as their eyes lock, Ignis’s lips spread into a beautiful smile.

“Holy shit! We did it!” Prompto squeaks, jumping over to tackle Ignis further onto the floor.

Ignis chuckles, looking up at Prompto fondly. “Oh, darling, it’s so wonderful to see you… as you.”

With that, Ignis pulls Prompto’s head down for a gentle kiss, right in front of his friends. Prompto’s heart flip-flops in his chest as he realizes that this is essentially going official in front of them.

“Well, that was a fucking journey and a half,” Gladio notes from the kitchen corridor.

“Yeah. This is kinda cute though, in a gross way,” Noctis says.

Ignis ends their kiss, still an affectionate look in his eyes. “I missed that flush of yours.”

Prompto laughs, reaching up to touch his own cheek. “I sure didn’t. No more Friday the 13th dates, okay? I don’t think I can handle it.”

Ignis leans up to kiss Prompto once more. “That’s quite alright, love. I’ll merely take you out on every other day.”

Prompto grins. “I can definitely work with that.”

Notes:

if u are still here... i am so proud i'm sure that was a wild ride
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