so i herd u liek mudkipz

Noctis' birthday is always a pompous affair—and one where he's expected to participate, at that. Turning eighteen is supposed to be special, though it doesn't feel that way, and it's all the worse for it. There's a gala event for the nobility that Noct has to suffer through, and then an afternoon reserved for his father, and then it's September and Noct is booked to appear at the reopening of a gymnasium in the Citadel district, partly funded and shielded by the Crown.

He doesn't get to see Prompto throughout any of it. He's expected to stay at the Citadel for both convenience and security, and when Prompto texts him his well-wishes and a, 'i have something for u when u have time for this pleb', Noctis doesn't get to reply until a full day later. He doesn't get to see Prompto until school starts the next Monday.

Prompto is waiting for him at the gate, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He seems excited rather than nervous, which kind of makes Noct nervous.

"Happy birthday to my best bud," Prompto says first thing, giving him a lopsided grin. "Well, a belated one."

Noct has missed Prompto more than he'd care to admit—the way he talks like Noct's nothing more than a fellow teenager, and smiles and laughs so easily. His heart does a happy little flutter at being called a 'best bud' rather than 'Highness' and 'Prince Noctis'. He's gotten so used to seeing him every day during the school year that their limited time spent together feels hard to handle.

"Yeah," he says. "Thanks. You look extra excited today."

"What's not to be excited about?" Prompto says. "It's our last year of high school. Nine more months and then—freedom! No more homework, or exams—"

"You realize," Noctis says and starts walking towards the school building, "that just means this year is going to be that much harder, right?"

Prompto sighs, and scuffs his feet on the ground a little. "Don't remind me, please. Just let me have this." Noct snorts. Prompto ignores it. "How was your birthday?"

"Boring." One of the advantages of Noct's station is that he doesn't have to weave his way through the crowds, even when they're at their busiest like today. People get out of his way automatically. "Would have rather spent it with you."

"Really?" Prompto asks, like he's still surprised about it. Noct peeks at him from the corner of his eyes, and—yeah, he looks pleased, bright-eyed and bright-cheeked.

"What, you think I liked hanging out with old, mustached counts all day long?"

Prompto laughs. "Just think, though. One day you're gonna be able to ban mustaches altogether. That would show them."

"Right," Noct says wryly, but he's smiling. "I'll add it to my agenda, right after math and before rainy days."

"Rainy days are the worst." Prompto takes the stairs to the first floor by two, and has to wait for Noctis at the top. "This is the beginning of the end, Noct," he says when Noct catches up with him. "The last year of climbing these stairs. The last year of—" He bounds towards their classroom door, already wide open. "Last year of walking through this door."

Their classroom is as it's always been; full of people who greet Noct with a nod of the head and a quiet 'Your Highness', and a few brave souls who call him by his given name. Noct makes his way to the desk that's been his for the past two years, respectfully left alone for him to claim again. The one before it, too, for Prompto to plop his suitcase on top of.

"The last year we'll get to sit in these chairs," Prompto says, pointing towards his desk with both hands.

"You're acting like you're never going to school again," Noct says. "There's still college."

Noctis has years upon years of experience in carefully crafting a poker face. Prompto doesn't. He tries—he straightens his back and shrugs his shoulders, but he won't meet Noct's eyes. "I don't know, man. I don't think this whole education thing is made for me."

Noct sets his own suitcase down beside his desk, deliberately slow to give himself time to think. He thinks Prompto thinks he's not good enough, or smart enough, to pursue further education, but he's not sure. He himself has no choice in the matter—or any choice at all, really—and he doesn't want to persuade Prompto in case he just doesn't want to. He just shrugs, in the end.

Prompto looks only slightly relieved. "Besides," he adds, voice forcefully cheery, "there's something else I think I might like to do."

"Oh?" Noct says. "And what's that?"

Prompto waves him off. "Later," he says. "You're free after school, right?"

Noctis smiles. "For sure."

- - -

Prompto almost skips on their way to his apartment. Not really, but he's always one step ahead from Noct, as if they didn't just spend the entire day sitting in on lectures so boring they were exhausting. Prompto doesn't seem to mind, happily chattering away. It's refreshing when Noctis doesn't have to add to the conversation—he knows he can when he wants to, but Prompto has no expectations of him. After the last few days, when he's been required to entertain the council for hours on end, it's… well, exactly what Noctis needs.

"—and I finished the game last week. Have you? I couldn't believe the ending, bro." He turns to Noct. "No spoilers, but it tries to convince you it's a happy end, but it's not a happy end."

"Did you cry?" Noct asks.

"Dude. I wept like a little baby. Don't tell anyone, though."

"Who would I tell?"

"Gladio?"

Noct laughs. Gladio looks like he'd judge, but Noct has seen him more than once damn near tears over his novels. Noct mimes zipping his mouth shut anyway.

Prompto lives in an older, smaller neighborhood, but that just seems to give it character. The Citadel district is all wide streets and tall modern buildings, glass and steel, but Prompto's neighborhood is full of winding, narrow pathways that even Ignis' sedan can hardly fit. Noct likes it. He likes Prompto's apartment, too, even though he knows Prompto doesn't.

"I bought beer," Prompto says when he closes the door behind him. His grin borders on feral.

"Oh?" Noct raises an eyebrow. "That the present you promised me?"

Prompto grins even wider. "Nope. That's—later. Beer first?"

"Should I be scared?" Noct is scared, but follows Prompto to the fridge anyway.

"No. Yes. I don't know," Prompto says, deliberately cryptic. He pulls out two cans of beer from the fridge and tosses one to Noctis. "Here's to the last couple of weeks of my underage drinking," he says.

Noctis cracks his can open, takes a sip, and very nearly spits it out again. He must make a face, though, because Prompto snickers. "Ew," he says, once he carefully spits the drink back into the can. "This is gross. You like this?" he says. It's bitter, like coffee, and also cold.

"Nope," Prompto says, but he drinks anyway. "It's just a thing you're supposed to do, so… I guess." He doesn't look bothered by the bitterness at all, or even the aftertaste of alcohol.

Noctis hands the can back. "I'll leave that to you, then," he says, and Prompto dutifully takes it from him. He's not laughing, but the look on his face tells Noct that it's a close thing. He glares at Prompto, and stalks to his living room.

It takes him a moment to notice that something's off—at first, he's too interested in turning on Prompto's TV and his console (outdated by a generation, but as Noct's come to realize, the graphics quality hardly matters when you have someone to play with), and he doesn't notice that Prompto's hanging back in the doorway, nervously wringing his fingers. It takes him a while to notice the fish bowl on Prompto's coffee table, wrapped with blue ribbon, or the goldfish circling inside it. It takes him even longer to realize that—that's his present.

A fish bowl. With a fish inside.

"What the hell," he says.

Prompto laughs, high-pitched and nervous. "Yeah, so. Happy birthday?"

Noct turns to him, still holding both of their controllers. "You're giving me a goldfish?"

Prompto is scarlet red, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess it seemed funnier in my head. I mean, you like—fish, right? And this is a goldfish, too, and you know what they say about golden fish—"

"What do they say about golden fish?" Noct asks.

Prompto meets his eyes for a brief moment before looking away again. The hand at the back of his neck stays, even though he's not rubbing anymore. "They, uh. Fulfil wishes."

Noctis turns back to look at the fish bowl, dropping to a crouch in front of the coffee table. "Huh," he says. Prompto has always been a peculiar gift-giver—last year, he took Noct to the zoo, and the year before that, he gave him one of those toy fish that you mount on your wall, that sings when you clap really loud around it. He didn't expect a live one, though. He's honestly not sure what to think, but he's mostly—feeling fond. He'd probably like anything Prompto gave him.

The fish swims in a strange, disjointed, full-bodied wiggle towards the glass, as if it were looking right at Noctis. Its eyes are too big, and its fins seem to be too long, and it's both funny and oddly graceful.

"Yeah. I know it's kinda stupid, but I thought—you're on your own in your apartment a lot, and a fish is an easy pet to take care of, and…" Prompto trails off.

"I like it," Noct says quickly, and glances over his shoulder at Prompto. It's not even a lie. "Thanks."

"Really?" Prompto seems to perk up. "Cool! That's—great! You gonna name it? Come on, you gotta make a wish!"

"Sure," Noct says. "I'm gonna name it Prompto."

Prompto's mouth opens and closes and his eyes boggle—in that moment he very much looks like a fish, and whether it's by accident or design, Noctis barely bites back a laugh. "What?" Prompto says once he recovers, sounding both indignant and confused, like he's not sure if it's meant to be a compliment or an insult. "Why?"

Noct shrugs, and hopes his smile looks smug and not fond. "Cause it looks like you. Just look at it." He gestures towards the fish. "I hereby name it Prompto the Second."

Prompto purses his lips, but Noct suspects it's against a smile. "Great," he says. "At least I still get to be the original."

Always, Noct thinks. It doesn't matter that Noct usually isn't interested in fish unless they're on the end of his line or on his plate, or that he's not really interested in keeping a pet (just another responsibility on his shoulders).

Prompto gave it to him, and that alone makes it special.

- - -

They realize, sometimes later, that they're not really sure how to transport the damn thing to Noct's apartment—more like they're both too lazy to carry such a fragile cargo via the subway—and end up calling Ignis for help. He arrives half an hour later and stops short when he sees the ribbon-wrapped fish bowl. His expression morphs into one of long-suffering, one that's usually reserved only for Prompto and Noctis' combined shenanigans.

"Don't worry, Iggy," Prompto says instantly. "Noct will take care of it. Right?"

"Right," Noct says, voice flat.

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose, dislodging his glasses, and sighs. "Right. It's a… lovely gift, Prompto," he says and turns to Noct. "Are you ready to leave? There's still some reports you need to overlook, on top of your homework. I assume you have not looked at it."

It's Noct's turn to sigh. Prompto lets out a nervous little laugh. "Uh-huh. Sorry. We totally forgot."

"Understandable," Ignis says, too polite to be completely serious. "I'm sure you've had a lot of catching up to do. You'll have to forgive me for breaking you up."

Noct turns to glare at Ignis, but for once, Ignis ignores him. Prompto doesn't seem to realize Ignis is being meaner than usual, or he's better at pretending he's not upset than Noctis thought. "No problem," he says. "Noct called you himself, anyway."

"To help transport your gift," Specs replies. "Of course."

Noct gets up from the couch, grabs the fish bowl from the coffee table, and brushes past Ignis into the hallway. "I'm gonna go get ready." If he bumps into Ignis on the way, well, it's only because Prompto's apartment is too tiny. "Prompto, you coming?"

"Oh," Prompto says, and then he's rushing after Noctis. Noctis hears him quietly excusing himself as he slips by Ignis and then his footsteps follow Noct towards the bathroom. "I kept the baggie from the pet shop," he says.

Noct shoulders his way into Prompto's little bathroom and Prompto follows him in. The room is barely enough to fit a basic little tub and a sink, let alone two men rapidly approaching adulthood.

"'Scuse me," Prompto says and pushes Noctis against the wall while he rummages through the cabinet above the sink. Noct has to hold the fish bowl above his head to keep it out of the way. Prompto slams the cabinet closed and turns with a little, "Ta-daah," presenting Noct with a long, transparent plastic bag. Then, voice hushed, he says, "Iggy's mad."

Noct shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

"Am I in trouble?" he asks. Noct shakes his head. "Are you?"

"No one's in trouble, okay?" Noct tells him. It comes out more standoffish than Noct means it to. He breathes out through his nose. "Ignis is Ignis. Don't worry about it."

"Right," Prompto says. He's biting his bottom lip, glancing somewhere above Noct—at the fish. "Look, if it's a problem, I can just…"

"No," Noct says.

"You don't have to keep it—"

"I want it."

Prompto reaches towards the bowl. "It was a stupid idea anyway—"

Noct holds the fish a little higher, straining. He only has a measly half an inch on Prompto, but he takes every advantage of it he can. He gets on his tippy toes. "My fish," he says. "Get your own."

Prompto looks a little frustrated, and a whole lot bewildered, like the idea that Noctis might want to keep the goldfish is incomprehensible to him. Noct stares at his face in the yellow-ish fluorescent light, pale like he's never seen the sun despite the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

It takes Noctis a moment to realize, distracted by Prompto's face in such detail, that the bathroom is already small, and already cramped, and now with Prompto straining upwards to reach above Noct, they're pressed basically chest to chest. They're standing very, very close.

Prompto seems to realize it at the same exact moment, if the blush that creeps up his cheeks so fast it's almost comical is anything to go by. Noct tries to remember all the lessons, direct or indirect, he's received in his life on keeping his face blank. He's not sure it's of any use.

"Uh," Prompto says, and rocks back onto his heels, bumping into the sink behind him. He holds out the fish baggie. "I'm… uh. Here you go?"

"Thanks," Noct says. "Help me."

Prompto holds the bag open in the sink while Noct pours the water from the bowl inside. The fish is determined not to leave it, and Noct ends up spilling a lot of the water all over Prompto's hands. It makes Prompto whine and groan and then laugh for some reason, and when Prompto laughs, Noct often follows. They end up giggling, both leaning over the sink, while Prompto washes out the bowl and dries it off with a hand towel.

"Here you go," he says, and hands it to Noct once it's dry. "Happy birthday. Sorry that Iggy's mad."

"Worth it," Noct says.

"Did you make your wish yet?" Prompto asks him. He's watching Noct with a soft, little smile—one of those that don't come out very often, the genuine happy ones; they keep those only for each other.

Noct glances at the fish, wiggling around inside the baggie, then back up. Prompto's looking at him expectantly. Noctis thinks, please, let me have the courage to kiss him next time. He almost blurts it out loud, so off-guard by the sincerity in Prompto's face. He catches himself at the last second.

"Yeah," he says instead. "I have."

- - -

It isn't until they've peeled off the curb in front of Prompto's house that Noctis remembers there was something Prompto wanted to tell him.

- - -

"A fish?" Ignis says. He sounds short, like he's really mad. "Really?"

Noctis has the baggy with Prompto the Second in his lap. He shrugs. "I guess."

Ignis half sighs, half scoffs. "Of all the irresponsible, childish things he's done, he gives you a live animal."

"I think it's…" Noct pauses, struggling for words. He doesn't want to say cute, or sweet, even though it's true. "I don't know. I like it."

"You have no idea how to care for it, or any of the proper equipment—"

"I have the bowl Prompto gave me," Noctis points out, voice sharp. "Look, you don't have to make this your problem, okay? Just pretend it's not there, if it pisses you off so much."

Ignis is quiet for a moment. He passes a crossroad, looks left and right even though the light is green. "Very well, Highness," he says eventually. He sounds a bit calmer, and Noctis wonders if he had to count from ten in his head. "I will not busy myself with the fish. I will not clean its corpse from the bowl either when it comes to it," he adds.

"If it comes to it," Noctis corrects him, glaring. He doesn't know if he's more pissed that Ignis thinks he's so incapable that he'd just let the fish rot, or that he's so dismissive of Prompto's present to him. "Which it won't."

"I very much hope so," Ignis says, and sighs. "Nevertheless, I will be having words with Prompto, so that he doesn't make this a habit in the future. It's extremely ill-advised to gift someone a live animal. I honestly expected more maturity from him, now that he's applying for the Crownsguard training."

At first, Noct just thinks, 'Uh-huh.' Then the words sink in. He sits up so fast the seatbelt locks up. "What?"

Ignis glances from the road to him and back, looking as alarmed as he gets. "Has he not mentioned?"

"No, he has not fucking mentioned!"

Ignis clears his throat. "He's said he would… oh, well." He looks at Noct shortly again. "Please be careful with the fish."

Noct's squeezing the fish bag so hard it squeaks under his fingers. "He's not—he doesn't—" He clamps his mouth shut. "How do you even know that he wants to…"

"Are you… angry he hasn't told you?" Ignis asks him. He sounds careful.

That too, but… "I don't want—what is he thinking?"

The lights at the crossroad ahead of them change to red, and Ignis shifts gears. He doesn't speak again until they roll to a stop. He turns to Noctis when they're at a safe standstill, expression carefully blank. "You should consult this with Prompto directly, then," he says. "At your earliest convenience, so that he… doesn't waste his time. So to speak."

Noct doesn't know what to say. All he knows is that his guts go uncomfortably tight at the thought of things changing, of Prompto becoming what Ignis and Gladio are—servants, paid to hang around Noctis. He clenches his jaw to stop himself from saying something to Ignis that he'd regret later.

The lights change to green again, and Noct's apartment building comes into view.

- - -

Noctis doesn't bring the Crownsguard training up and neither does Prompto, over the next few weeks. Part of Noctis wants Prompto to breach the topic first, to explain himself. Part of him is simply—scared. Scared to find something he really doesn't like, when so far he's liked most everything about Prompto.

It's the fish that brings things to a head, in the end. Noct feeds it pellets, and he's changed the water a few times, too. So far, he's been doing well on his promise to Ignis—and Prompto—to take care of the fish himself. Ignis still wrinkles his nose when he sees the bowl, but he too is steadfast in his resolve not to touch it with a ten foot pole.

Except that one day Noct comes back home from school and the fish is wrong.

Noct stands in front of the bowl for a few long minutes, just because he doesn't know what else to do. Prompto the Second is—not dead, at least. It's sitting on the bottom, and it's barely moving. When it does, it's much slower, like it's tired or in pain—nothing like the usual wiggling it performs whenever Noctis comes close to the bowl. He tries to feed it, but the fish hardly seems interested in the pellets.

Noct doesn't know much about keeping fish alive, or pets in general (Umbra very rarely needs any care when he comes over—Noct suspect that if he demands food, it's only because he's as weak for Specs' cooking as the rest of them), but he knows that when they refuse to eat, things are going down the shitter.

He picks up his phone and calls Prompto, but it goes straight to voicemail. Prompto works Tuesdays and Thursday after school, and every weekend in the mornings, so Noct is used to him being busy. But today is neither Tuesday, Thursday, or the weekend. Noctis tries Gladio next, unsurprised when he's also unavailable, which means they're both likely in training. The training that Noctis doesn't officially know about yet.

Noctis can either be mad, or he can deal with the situation at hand. Taking a deep breath, he chooses the goldfish.

Sitting down on the sofa next to the bowl, Noctis pulls out his phone. He looks at Prompto the Second again, just to confirm its symptoms, and the fish looks back at him with its sad, beady eyes.

Goldfish sitting at bottom of bowl, he inputs into the Moogle search field, and begins reading.

- - -

An hour later, Noctis is inside the first aquaristic shop he found in the neighborhood. It's a little, cramped thing, and the girl behind the counter looks like she's barely out of her teens. There's a bell chime when Noct opens the door, and she looks up from her phone, eyes bored. "Hello, how may I… help you…" she says, trailing off when she properly takes in who just stepped inside the store.

"Hi," Noctis says, and walks up to the counter. "My fish is unwell." He shows her a picture he took of Prompto the Second before leaving his apartment. "What do I do?"

The girl doesn't quite flinch when she sees the habitat, but it's a near thing. "Of course," she says. "Do you usually keep it in this bowl?"

"Yeah," he says. "I just read that I shouldn't. Just now. Today."

"Right," she says, and frowns at the photo on Noctis' screen. "So, I think the water quality just might be poor."

"I change the water," Noctis says.

The girl smiles at Noctis, like one would at a child. "I believe you," she says, "but no amount of water changes can make up for a tank that's too small. And this—" She points at Noctis' phone. "—is definitely too small. By, like, 70 liters."

"Right," Noctis says, faint. "Okay. So if I get a bigger tank, will it bounce back? It only started acting up today."

"It might," the girl says. "You might need some other equipment—a filter, water conditioner… what's your budget?"

"The budget is 'anything it takes to keep the fish alive'."

- - -

Noctis has to call Ignis in the end, because there's no way he's carrying all of this shit home on his own. Just the tank alone is at least a two man job, and both Prompto and Gladio are still not picking up their phones.

"Highness," Ignis says, like a hello.

"Hey, are you free right now?" Noctis replies. He's leaning on the counter, his aquarium haul on the ground next to him in boxes and bags. The shopkeeper is on the other side of the store with another customer, a mousy man in his sixties who keeps staring at Noctis like he's a ghost.

"I am at your service," Ignis says in the tone of voice that Noctis can't quite decipher. "What can I do for you?"

"Can you come pick me up? I'm at a store and might need some help carrying stuff home."

"What store?"

Noctis hesitates. "The, uh, the aquaristics on Stellae Avenue."

Ignis is silent on the other end of the line. "I thought you said I won't have to assist you with caring for the fish," he says in the end.

"Yeah, well. Prompto and Gladio are unavailable."

"They would be," Ignis says. "I'm currently tied up with work, but I'll arrange for someone to collect you."

"Thanks," Noctis says, pinching his nose. "I'll just… wait here."

— — —

Prompto looks pale and stricken when he finally arrives at Noctis' apartment, two hours later and with Gadio in tow, and sees the sheer amount of fish-related chaos. Gladio, of course, thinks the whole situation is hilarious—he bursts out laughing as soon as he pushes past Prompto, who wobbles like a slack-jawed bobble head in the doorway. "Uh," is all Prompto says.

Noctis scowls at them both while they move through the apartment, observing the equipment that's scattered around the floor—plastic baggies with various plants, bottles of water treatments, bags full of gravel and dirt.

Gladio is still cackling, even as he helps Noctis set his new 120 liter aquarium on his new aquarium stand.

"I swear I didn't know," Prompto says for the hundredth time. He's standing on a stool, armpits deep inside the tank and trying to plant some sort of weed in the soil. "People keep goldfish in fish bowls all the time. They sold it to me as a set, too!"

"Yeah, I'll lock you in, like, a school locker for three weeks. We'll see how you like it," Gladio tells him.

"Ha ha," Prompto says, glaring at him. "I'll have you know, I've been locked in a locker before."

Noctis and Gladio both turn to him, speechless for a moment. Noct says, "When?" at the same time that Gladio asks, "And did you like it?"

"It doesn't matter, and no," Prompto replies before looking at them. "Any more plants to plant?"

"No," Noctis says. "I mean, I got this piece of wood for decoration, but supposedly I should boil it first."

Prompto frowns. "Boil it? Why?"

Noctis shrugs, and shuffles to the kitchen counter to look for a big enough pot. "Beats me."

"Iggy is going to kill you if you use one of his pots," Gladio points out. He's grinning, like this whole thing is a particularly good stand up comedy show.

"They're my pots."

"Sure they are."

"I'll get started on assembling the filter, I guess," Prompto says and jumps off the stool. His hands are dripping wet and he flings some of that water towards Noctis. Noctis flinches away, glaring at him—maybe a bit too hard, because Prompto's smile melts off his features.

"I don't see any giant pieces of furniture that need moving anymore," Gladio says, "so I'm just gonna go. You kids have fun. Don't drown. Don't kill the fish, or each other."

"Bye," Noctis says dryly.

Prompto shoots Gladio particularly wet finger-guns, water dripping onto Noct's floor. "Thanks for the help, big guy!"

"See you on Thursday, Prompto," Gladio says, suspiciously loud, as he slams the door behind him. Then it's just the two of them.

"Hah," Prompto chuckles nervously, looking over at Noct. When their eyes meet, Prompto turns away, fumbling through the filter manual.

They fall silent. Noctis watches Prompto as he fiddles with the filter parts, more clumsy than usual, attention split between the machine in his hands, the manual on the coffee table in front of him, and Noctis watching him like a hawk from behind the kitchen island.

Frustration bubbles in Noctis' chest like an ugly thing, because Prompto obviously knows he should speak to Noctis, but he just won't. He wants to ask, 'Since when do you and Gladio hang out together, huh?' Noctis isn't an idiot. He knows Prompto is preparing for joining the Crownsguard, for joining his retinue—what he doesn't understand is why he's the only one in the dark about it.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Noctis asks, before he can think better of it.

"Hm? Tell you what?"

"About the Crownsguard training."

Prompto whips around. "What? How do you—I mean, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ignis told me a while ago," Noctis says.

Prompto's shoulders slump. "Traitor," he says with no real heat behind it.

"He thought you'd told me already," Noctis says, and crosses his arms. "Don't blame him."

Prompto's expression goes from uneasy to positively alarmed. "I wanted to tell you. I just… there just wasn't a good opportunity."

Noctis rolls his eyes. "Cause we saw each other so little." Noctis is not looking at Prompto anymore, his eyes fixed on the fish bowl instead, at the little fish wiggling on the bottom.

"Are you mad?" Prompto asks, voice small and worried.

Noctis stares at him, not quite sure what to say.

Prompto must interpret his silence in some way, because he stands up abruptly, the filter tumbling from his lap. Prompto fumbles to catch it, setting it on the table. "Are you—do you not want me to join the Guard?"

"I don't know," Noctis replies, truthfully.

Prompto flinches as if Noctis slapped him; his eyebrows draw together in an expression so hurt Noctis thinks he might be injured for real. Before he can say anything, explain to Prompto what he meant, ask him about anything, Prompto blinks and stammers, "Oh, ah—okay. I… get it. Got it. I'll just—look at the time, I gotta run, I don't wanna take the last bus home with all the other… creatures…" His eyes flicker around the room as if he's looking for an escape.

Noctis unfolds his arms. "Prompto—"

"So, sorry that I'm—the manual is pretty good at explaining what to do with the filter," Prompto says, basically shuffling along the wall towards the front door. "I'm sure you'll be able to put it together. Without me."

Noctis stares at him, feeling like the whole situation is spinning out of control.

Inside the entrance hall Prompto pulls on his sneakers and yanks the front door open. "I'll see you at school," he says, looking everywhere but at Noctis, and then he's gone with a soft click.

Noctis stares at the door.

- - -

Prompto the Second is doing better as soon as the next morning. Noctis went to sleep anxious that he'd find the fish dead when he woke up, prompting some truly bizarre dreams, but no. The fish is fine.

Ignis is already in the living room, waiting, watching the new aquarium with some level of interest. Prompto the Second is happily wiggling by the front glass, like he's showing off.

"Huh," Noctis says. "It seems okay."

"Was it not?" Ignis asks.

"No," Noctis admits. "You were right that I had no idea how to care for it."

Ignis hums. He's never one to tell Noctis told-you-so, but the sentiment is very much implied. "I am quite impressed you managed to put this new habitat together by yourself."

"Gladio helped. And Prompto." Noctis feels uncomfortable thinking back to it, to how he handled things yesterday, to Prompto's betrayed expression.

Ignis turns to Noctis, eyes on his face. "Is something the matter?" he asks, reading Noct like a book.

Noctis grimaces. "I think I had a fight with Prompto."

"You think?"

"I asked him about the Crownsguard thing," Noctis explains. Ignis just raises one brow, waiting. "I think I hurt his feelings."

Ignis watches Noctis for a moment longer. "Collect your things and let us go, lest you're late," he says in the end, going for the door. "We can talk on the way."

- - -

In the car, Noctis recounts the events from yesterday. Ignis doesn't say much; doesn't express any kind of frustration with the situation, or anything else, really. He does say, "I wish you'd use your diplomatic thinking in these personal matters more."

"I do," Noctis denies immediately, even though he doesn't, not really.

"You are very covert about it, then," Ignis says. "Why are you opposed to Prompto joining the Guard?"

"I'm not," Noctis says, sounding like a petulant child. "I just don't understand what made him want to. He never seemed to care about this before."

Ignis glances at him, then back to the road. "Are you worried he's doing it as a career move?"

Noctis sighs. He doesn't want to have this conversation with Ignis—he's already put his foot in his mouth with Prompto, and he doesn't want to hurt Ignis on top. "I don't… I don't know what he's doing."

Ignis stays silent. "I didn't imagine this would be a worry."

"It's dumb," Noctis says as Ignis rounds a corner and the school building comes into view.

"Hardly. I did want you to have this conversation with Prompto, but to ease your mind, know that this was my and Gladio's idea."

Noctis' eyebrows climb up to his hairline, eyes boggling. "You put him up to this?" he says. It comes out like a snarl.

"We thought he would make a fine addition to your entourage—one you would be amenable to."

The car comes to a stop by the curb near the entrance, like it does everyday. From the passenger window, Noctis can see Prompto waiting by the main gate, like he does every morning.

"Have we been misled?" Ignis asks.

Noctis watches Prompto, waiting for him despite Noctis dismissing him yesterday, hurting him. He thinks about Ignis, who carts him to and from school, who cooks for him and gives him advice on things that are absolutely not part of his official responsibilities. He thinks about Gladio, who sits in on safety meetings all day long and still makes time to tutor his friend just because he believes it would make Noctis happy.

Noctis thinks of Prompto as his only friend, sometimes. At least the only one not burdened with duty and expectation, but—it's unfair, isn't it? To Ignis and Gladio, yeah, but to Prompto, too—an expectation in and of itself.

"No," Noctis says. "You weren't."

- - -

The first thing Prompto says to him, after a breathless greeting, is, "Noct, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner and I'm sorry for making assumptions that you'd…" He trails off. "I should have asked first, if you'd even want me in your retinue."

Noctis raises his hand, waving him off. "None of that." He doesn't want Prompto's apologies, and he definitely doesn't want them here, in the front yard surrounded by their classmates. He wants his explanation, his reasoning, in private. "We should talk later, though. At my place?"

Prompto seems to deflate. "Sure," he says with no excitement whatsoever.

"Hey," Noctis says, quieter. He steps closer to Prompto. "I'm sorry, too."

Prompto looks at him dubiously. "What for?"

"We can talk about it later," Noctis says, slapping Prompto's shoulder. He smiles, hoping it comes across as encouraging and not as a sneer or something.

"Okay," Prompto says. He still sounds unsure, eyebrows drawn, but he seems curious too, shoulders less round, back straighter.

- - -

Prompto barely takes off his shoes before he beelines straight for the newly set up fish tank. "Oh wow," he says, peering through the glass. "It looks pretty great. Much better than a stinky bowl, isn't it?"

"You gave me that bowl," Noctis reminds him, because he just can't help himself.

Prompto flinches. "Ah, yeah, I sure did. Hah. Sorry about that, buddy," he says, seemingly to the fish. There's something odd in his voice, though, and Noctis comes closer so he can see his face.

Prompto's eyes are following the fish as it wiggles around, tired and heavy-lidded. His sunny predisposition often hides his more somber moods—not smiling only enunciates the paleness of his face and the thinness of his features.

When Noctis doesn't smile, he looks broody and mysterious, like a royal. When Prompto doesn't smile, he just looks sad. He looks sad right now.

"Hey," Noctis starts in an attempt to snap him out of it.

"I'm really sorry," Prompto says. "I wanted to make you happy, but I just… I guess I didn't think this through."

"It's okay," Noctis replies. He stands close enough that their elbows brush. "I kind of had fun setting this whole thing up. Maybe I like fish even when they're not on the end of my line after all."

Prompto looks at him then, smiling. "Yeah?"

"Sure." Noctis shrugs. "Besides, I couldn't just let this guy die."

Prompto's smile doesn't quite drop, but it goes a bit crooked. "I'm not talking just about the fish, though."

"What are you talking about, then?"

Prompto sighs, hard and long-suffering. His eyes tick over to Noct but he can't quite keep them on him; his hands twitch as he looks everywhere but at Noctis. "I mean, I said it already this morning. I'm sorry that I did things behind your back that made you mad." He looks up. "I didn't prepare anything else."

Noctis was mad, for a bit. That Prompto would even consider going on the crown's payroll—he knows that Noctis doesn't like it, doesn't like the way it comes between him and Ignis and Gladio sometimes. Then, he was mad that Prompto just wasn't bringing it up, like he was scared of him.

Noctis could still be mad if he really wanted to, even now. He can feel the irritation, simmering in his chest. But he did get mad yesterday, and that worked out terribly for him—only justified whatever reservations Prompto might have had about telling him. So, he's going to take Ignis' advice and apply his diplomatic thinking.

"I'm not mad," Noctis says. "You know how I said I was sorry too, this morning? Well, I'm sorry I made it seem like I was."

Prompto nods, face pinches like he's thinking about it. "I can hear the but in there somewhere," he says.

Noctis turns around and walks over to the sofa, collapsing onto it. "I guess I don't really get it."

"Don't get what? Why I would want to join the Crownsguard?"

Noctis nods.

Prompto is looking at him funny. "Well… this is the last year of high school," he says slowly, like it's an answer in itself. Noctis raises his eyebrows, so Prompto continues. "And you're gonna go off and do big, great things, and… I… I just didn't want to get left behind in the dust."

Noctis feels that bite of frustration again, in his core, but not at Prompto. He sits up straighter. "You wouldn't be. I wouldn't—"

"I know," Prompto says quickly. "I know you wouldn't want to, that it wouldn't be by choice. But… you know how it was, even just during the summer holidays, right?"

Noctis does know; gruelling hours of training, and boring days full of lessons—on politics and etiquette and history, so in depth public education could never encompass it. Event after event that somehow required Noct's good PR now that he was not tied up with school attendance. All the nights Noct spent in the Citadel, texting Prompto one apology after another before falling asleep. He nods.

"So, I don't want that. And I thought about it a lot, you know? About what I want. And the thing I kept coming back to was… this." Prompto throws his arms out, as if to say, look around. "I know things will change regardless, after we graduate. But this way, I might still get to, you know. Stay. In your life." Prompto laughs airily, nervously, and rubs the back of his head. "Aw, man, that sounds pathetic."

"No," Noct says, shaking his head hastily. "It doesn't."

It's a relief to know that this means as much to Prompto as it does to him. If Noctis could make something, some sort of adjustment, some sort of decision that would preserve this moment, he would. But Noctis is always a prisoner to the circumstance of his birth, bound by things bigger than he is.

"I'm sorry for making you feel like I didn't want you around. That's not true. I just…" Noctis sighs. He wants what Prompto wants, he just doesn't want to have to accept this sacrifice from his only friend, one he doesn't know how to repay. He doesn't know how to even say it. "It's a big thing. You could do anything. Go to college, get a degree in… I don't know, photography."

"What would I even take pictures of?" Prompto smiles, voice wry.

Noctis huffs out a laugh. "I don't know. I don't know. Guess I just… don't want you to regret it. To resent it. I don't want anything to change."

"I won't regret it, and I won't change. Okay? Pinky promise. Look, I'm locking it in." Prompto holds out his hand, little finger extended.

He stands in front of the new tank, backlit by its pale, artificial glow—it makes his light hair even lighter, framing a halo around his face. It makes his eyes look big and dark and round.

Behind Prompto, the goldfish swims around in its disjointed little pattern, unconcerned with whatever personal crisis Noctis is going through. Noctis remembers, though, the evening in Prompto's apartment all those weeks ago, and Prompto whispering, Did you make your wish yet?

Noctis gets up, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. He walks over to Prompto, staring at his face, into his eyes, like that itself could tell him if he's doing the right thing.

"Maybe there's things I do want to change," Noct says, because if Prompto can be brave, he can be too.

"Oh?" Prompto says. His eyes track Noctis across the room, flickering up to his face, wide and guileless. "Like what?"

Noctis takes a deep breath. "You'll tell me if you don't want this. Yeah?"

Prompto's eyes go impossibly wider. He licks his lips. "Uh, yeah? I guess, but wh—"

Noctis curls his little finger around Prompto's, and pulls him in. Prompto goes easily, always trusting, but Noctis sees the millisecond of understanding as it crosses his face before he closes his eyes.

The kiss is slow, almost not a kiss at all—Prompto makes a surprised little noise against Noctis' mouth, and then he laughs, low and breathy. He pulls away, and Noctis opens his eyes, blinking.

Prompto's eyes are crinkled at the corners. "So you want me to join the Crownsguard?" he asks, eyes sparkling.

"Hm. I keep thinking about what I want," Noct says airily, unable to fight the grin when he sees the color rise in Prompto's cheeks. "And I want the same thing you want."

"Dude," Prompto mutters, cheeks going splotchy red in embarrassment. "Low blow. Here I am, baring my soul to you—"

"I can't believe the magical fish worked," Noctis cuts in.

Prompto stares at him. "What?"

"I'm gonna kiss you again," Noctis says.

"Okay," Prompto replies, like it's the easiest thing in the world. His pinky finger curls tighter around Noct's, like a promise.