Chapter Text
“I don't think this is a good idea, Noct.”
“You already said that.”
“Doesn't make it any less true! Ah man, I need the bathroom again.”
“You just went. I know you're just gonna try and escape through a window or something.”
“No, seriously! When I'm nervous my bladder goes into overdrive.”
“There's nothing to be nervous about. I'm here, I love you, and I'm gonna look after you. You debating that?” Noctis asked conspiratorially, as he continued to adjust his fiancé's outfit, a pristine scarlet suit with a steel-grey shirt and black accessories. Prompto's sharp-pointed black boots were glossed to perfection, the patent leather winking distractedly in the relatively dim light and soft silence.
“I never said that I doubted that! I just said that I'm going to die.”
The Prince sniggered to himself, patting down his partner's lapels. “It's gonna be fun. I told you things would be a bit different after we got engaged. This is one of those things. And trust me, this is a little party, something to ease you in gently. Some of the ones I've been to were so big you could lose a Chocobo in the crowd for the freakin' snack table.”
“You are Noct helping!” Prompto groaned, his voice tight and high with agitation. He glanced around the very spacious, low-ceilinged dressing room. They were alone, and amidst soft, flattering lighting and plush furnishings, the blond was buzzing with an unpleasant and painfully-familiar nervousness. It was early evening, and in an hour, they would descend to the main ballroom of the Citadel from their current location on one of the upper floors, not far from Noctis' old bedroom. It was quiet, but Prompto was sure he could hear the very faintest piped music just within his senses. Then again, his senses were so frazzled with nerves that it could well be a hallucination helped along by the sound of his own frantic blood and thumping heartbeat, rushing in his ears.
“You're calm enough to make puns, so I believe you can do it. Remember, Iggy and Gladio will be there too. Besides, you look incredible. You're gonna be the envy of everybody there.”
“I would prefer it if people didn't look at me,” the blond whined anxiously. “Can't you just...disguise me as a waiter or something? If you really need me to see what these charity-dance-whatever-things are like, I can do it incognito, and I won't embarrass you, and you won't have to answer people's questions about why your plus-one is so useless and common.”
“Firstly, you're not my plus-one,” Noct tutted. “You're my fiancé. We've been engaged for months and everybody there tonight is privy to that information, so there's no need to pretend we're not together, okay? You're gonna be my husband – Prince Consort, and I intend to show you off to the max. Plus Dad gets to see you again. You know we haven't had a chance to have a proper meeting with him yet.”
Prompto nodded weakly, letting out an almost comically-massive exhale; it was clear he was not feeling much happier about the situation.
“I don't even know how to dance or anything,” the blond shrugged, eyes down and his bottom lip impressively petulant. Noctis eyed the pouting mouth in question, and quenched its anguish with a quick, sweet kiss.
“I told you, it's nothing like that. People are only gonna dance if they get drunk. It's not that formal. It's a charity thing, we're just trying to raise awareness with some rich princesses and lords and stuff. We don't have to do any dancing, I'm just gonna do my little speech and then we schmooze a bit. Alright? I'll teach you how to dance sometime soon, though. I'm actually pretty good at it when I can be assed to make an effort,” Noct smirked.
The blond made a little, haphazard noise of assent, before he was seized in a harder kiss, finding himself shoved back against the luxurious red damask wall. The breath thudded from his lungs when the brunette pushed up crushingly against him, feasting on his mouth for a few delicious and breathless seconds.
“...Shit, Noct,” Prompto managed to wheeze in relief when his lips were released, only to find himself pinned by a dangerously-intense stare and tight hands on his hips.
“We've officially been having sex for over a year now,” the Prince muttered out of the blue, doing a good job of crowding the blond, even though their height and build were nearly identical. His predatory, inscrutable gaze demanded an answer to his non-sequitur.
“I, uh...well yeah, I know. Halloween handjobs,” Prompto replied with a nervous chuckle. “...Right now?” he replied in shocked realisation, his voice a coarse whisper despite their isolation. The nearest staff member was probably a hundred yards away, and there was a centuries-old, sturdy wooden door with a locked deadbolt separating them.
“Why not?” Noctis shrugged challengingly.
“I...I feel kinda...uncomfortable is all,” Prompto sighed. “I don't feel very hot like this,” he nodded down at himself mournfully. He was stunned, and then indignant, when Noctis laughed warmly.
“Prom. You have got to be kidding.” The Prince's grey-blue eyes were merry with amusement, his pale face crinkled in a fond smile.
“Dude, stop laughing at me,” Prompto huffed. “Hey!” he yelped, when his fiancé abruptly grabbed his arm and pulled him to the nearest wall mirror, floor-length and sparklingly-clean. It was bordered with sleek, jet-coloured fluted designs, mimicking the architecture prevalent throughout the Palace. Noctis twisted him gently to face the mirror, standing behind him and planting his chin on the blond's shoulder so that he could join the appraisal.
“Not that you don't always look hot,” the brunette began, his voice a husky murmur, “but I've never seen you look more stunning than right now.”
“Aw man, no way. You belong in this sort of stuff. I don't. Look at you, with your collarbones like freakin'...machetes,” Prompto rambled forlornly. He gestured vaguely at the Prince's outfit, a snugly-fitted gunmetal-grey suit over a silvery shirt. He pointedly avoided looking at his own reflection; his eyes, somehow simultaneously dark and bright blue, frowned down at the floor.
Noctis let out a brief but determined sigh of aggravation, and merely pushed his hips forward a little, nudging his half-hard cock against the immaculate tailoring of his fiancé's suit.
“You. Look. Amazing,” the Prince whispered into the muffled stillness of the oversized closet. He hooked an arm around the blond to tilt his pointed chin up, giving him a quick, affectionate tweak with his thumb as he did. With his other hand, he gave the ring on Prompto's finger a playful twiddle.
Noctis had been prepared for this. Ever since he had known Prompto, long before they were engaged or even lovers, he was aware of the other man's propensity for low self-esteem, anxiety, catastrophising and body image issues. Noct's words of comfort or sternness had never served to fully cure the blond's stigmas, only placate them for a while, and he certainly didn't expect this to change, now or in the future. Indeed, their marriage would inevitably create entirely new situations for Prompto to stress about.
Noct loved Prompto for exactly what he was, and had no expectation for him to change as part of some future requisite of their relationship. Hoping that your partner would one day be a different or better person wasn't the best foundation for a marriage. Still, he wished sometimes that Prompto wasn't so blinkered by his depressive episodes that he routinely failed to see his own immense worth. More than anything else in the world, Noct wanted his partner to be happy.
Now, the Prince kissed the exposed, lightly-freckled skin of Prompto's throat repeatedly, giving him little bumps with his hips to keep him informed of his increasing state of arousal.
“I wish you believed me,” Noctis whispered, nuzzling into his partner's soft hairline and into the junction of his neck and shoulder. He was gratified to hear a faint moan which vibrated through the fair skin he was worshipping.
“...I'll admit you did a good job with this suit. I thought there'd be servants here to dress me up,” Prompto said peacefully.
“Well, I wanted the pleasure all to myself. I've been doing this stuff since I was a kid. I'm kind of a pro at it now,” Noct told him smugly. “...I'm looking forward to having you with me tonight for the first time. It'll be a million times more bearable.”
The blond took a deep breath and sighed it out when the Prince continued to nip at his throat, lightly enough not to leave any tell-tale marks. Noctis spoke up once more as something occurred to him.
“Hey, last Halloween you thought you looked hot, right? In your soldier outfit? How is this any different?” the brunette chuckled.
“Ah, that was just drunken messing about with my bros. This is totally not the same, having strangers who literally own whole countries judging my sorry ass.”
“These people aren't gods, you know. They're no different from me - just a loser who happens to have a crown,” Noctis laughed. “They've got the same hang-ups and are just as lame and boring as anybody else. Don't let them intimidate you.” He hummed against Prompto's jugular vein and made a small questioning sound that was ostentatiously innocent. “Can I do something for you? Please?”
Prompto huffed out a breathless laugh, raising one hand to ruffle Noct's hair. “When you say 'please,' I get worried.”
“Oh?” Noctis shrugged, rocking his fiancé playfully in his arms.
“Yeah, 'cos it's so rare,” the blond teased.
“Harsh,” the Prince groaned, biting a little harder and getting a faint mewl for his efforts.
“Harsh but true, dude.”
“I only say please when it's something I really want,” Noct offered hopefully.
“That's what worries me,” Prompto laughed. “Okay, what did you have in mind?”
Noctis snuffled a little laugh, before manoeuvring so that he stood in front of Prompto, between him and the mirror. With enviable grace, the Prince got onto his knees and splayed his hands beseechingly across the placket of the blond's trousers.
“I won't go deep,” Noct promised, and they both grinned wryly at the unspoken acknowledgement of what Noctis was saying. After an incident where Prompto had been brought to tears after a traumatising coupling, they were both learning to be as transparent as possible when communicating their desires. Prompto couldn't handle being deep-throated, and Noctis had forsaken his desire to do so in order to make sure his best friend had the best experience possible.
“I swear, Noct, if you make a mess on my pretty suit...”
“Oh, so now you think it's pretty?” Noctis smirked as he slowly opened the button and zip in front of him, the expensive red material tellingly soft and sleek.
“The suit is perfect. It's just been put on completely the wrong person,” Prompto giggled.
“Shh,” the Prince chided him again, tapping him gently on the hip. “I'll swallow. No mess, promise,” he offered, criss-crossing a forefinger playfully over his own heart.
“...You wanna try a 69?” the blond asked conspiratorially, and Noctis paused, before grinning up at his fiancé. It was something they hadn't yet attempted. The door was locked and they were guaranteed privacy, but he had his doubts.
“Maybe later when there's more time. And a bed. Besides, I don't think I could concentrate enough to do it right.”
“Sex god Noct, can't do two things at once,” the blond teased fondly, stroking through the Prince's baby-soft hair.
“Nope,” the brunette admitted easily, pulling down the layers of material in front of him and groaning appreciatively at the warm, flaccid flesh that greeted him. “Try watching in the mirror,” he suggested, before taking Prompto's tip into his mouth, the weight and heat of it comforting. He suckled gently, using one hand to circle the base, his own sighs of bliss entirely unconscious. His grip was relatively loose, knowing that his partner was unusually sensitive to firm or prolonged pressure.
“Gods, Noct...your mouth's amazing...so soft and wet,” Prompto murmured vaguely, fingers raking across his fiancé's scalp. He heard Noctis snort faintly with amusement and then continue at a sedate but intoxicating pace, careful never to go so deep that he gagged, knowing how upsetting Prompto found it.
It didn't take long for Prompto to become fully hard, insistently-solid and burning hot inside Noct's mouth. After a couple of self-conscious minutes, the blond bravely looked up at the mirror to watch himself getting blown, and the resultant image caused him to groan, loud and helpless. The Prince was kneeling submissively before him, his fine dark hair bouncing with every squelching suck as his head bobbed back and forth. One of Noct's slippery hands was pumping his cock rhythmically, the other had grabbed his ass and was squeezing hard.
Letting his mouth fall open to take in much-needed oxygen, Prompto panted and seethed out little noises as he tried not to rock against his partner or pull his hair too tightly. The snug warmth of the dressing room was becoming stifling, and the slick, sloppy gulping sounds as Noct worked were deafening in the peaceful silence.
The blond was enduring urgent throbs of need, which demanded faster stimulation, harder effort, enough pressure and speed and will to tip him over the edge. Noct wordlessly knew and obliged, familiar now with the telltale signs in his lover's body that warned of an impending orgasm. Prompto's voice was broken and the cries he forced out were getting louder, more unrestrained. His lean, muscled thighs trembled hard and his whole body twitched and jerked as he fought to stay standing upright, his hands now planted very firmly on the brunette's scalp, fingers raking painfully.
Noctis' face was bright red, his eyes closed tight and hidden under his bedraggled fringe, his inhales and exhales guttural and ugly as he felt Prompto's violent shudders, the blond's knees almost buckling. The Prince's slick fist, which had been jerking with furious speed, eased a little so that Noct could pull back with a sticky gasp of air. His jaw wide, he directed the glossy wet head of his fiancé's prick against his tongue. Prompto looked down hazily, frowning with the exhaustion of pleasure, and saw the brunette use his free hand to palm himself through his trousers, shivering and sobbing faintly with obvious delight.
Noctis actually came first, whimpering and sweating and grabbing himself roughly through expensive cloth that rapidly soaked through with his hot seed. With dizzy, drunken determination, the Prince kept his jaw wide as he kept working Prompto, managing not to accidentally bite down through his powerful aftershocks. He wobbled precariously on his knees until the blond finally spurted into his mouth, coating his tongue with globs of musky fluid, which he obediently swallowed. Prompto threw his head back with a hard yell and tumultuous, full-body quivers, struggling not to collapse.
When the mind-numbing pulses of his orgasm had mostly faded, Prompto sank weakly against his partner, and Noctis managed to catch his waist with a hoarse chuckle. While the blond panted and wheezed, the Prince took the opportunity to do his trousers back up for him with shaky fingers, leaving him clean and comparatively unrumpled. He, on the other hand, winced at the cooling semen that he was slick with, and he stood up with a grimace, wiping the saliva from his chin.
“You okay?” the brunette asked, as Prompto coughed and straightened up once more. “Hopefully you're more relaxed now,” he sniggered.
“Mm-hm, damn! That was sweet,” the freckled blond laughed warmly, covering his face with his hands in a brief show of embarrassment. “Shit, looks like you can multi-task after all,” he added, nodding to the damp spot on Noct's suit.
“Yeah, I got kinda carried away...shit,” the Prince agreed, clearing his throat and biting his pale lip. “This place has like two hundred suits. There's gotta be more pants here that are the same colour. No-one will know.”
Ignis was calmly adjusting his jade cufflinks outside the ballroom in the narrow foyer of a private side entrance, waiting for the engaged couple. Without checking his pocket watch, he knew that Noctis and Prompto were passably punctual when he saw them trotting down the lofty, glossy black hallway hand-in-hand. The Prince was slightly in front and pulling upon the blond's hand, as Prompto fidgeted and fussed with his own suit, looking anxious.
“Hey Specs, we on time?” the Prince asked, looking like he had dragged Prompto at high speed the whole way.
“Fashionably so,” the advisor smirked, appraising them both. “They're going to - ”
He paused and frowned slightly at Noct's suit, which to him, looked as if it was comprised of two similar but notably different shades of grey. It wasn't entirely a bad look, but...Ignis opened his mouth to question what had happened to the outfit that had been pre-arranged, but when his attention was drawn to the abrupt flush that flooded Prompto's cheeks and the belligerent raised eyebrow of the Prince, he decided against his question.
“Are you both prepared?” he asked beneficently instead. “Everyone's ready for you.” Behind him, beyond oppressively-statuesque black doors, a distinct buzz and chatter of a large unseen crowd revealed that the ball was indeed in full swing.
Noctis flashed a dangerous grin at his fiancé, who looked like he was going to pass out.
“Let's do this thing.”