...Oh, 'cause I'm not, like--yeah, I see what you mean.
[What do those three have in common that he doesn't? Right, the Citadel. The royal purpose, the royal pressure. Prompto considers that, drumming his fingers against the cabinets, then snorts.]
Well, what does that have to do with being your boyfriend? Unless you don't talk about your childhood with people you're not going to smoochtown with.
[He smiles a little, sort of soft, sort of sly.]
I noticed you're talking to Shiiirooo about your personal life. Have you been married to him since you were three, too?
As I said, I think he may have made an intuitive leap that was regrettably not with roots in a foundation of reality.
[His eyes narrow just a hint, not angry but just calculating, watching that expression cross Prompto's face.]
Beg pardon, were you under the impression I only discuss my personal life with people I'm in a romantic relationship with? If that's the case, Shiro may have been correct after all, as I seem to recall discussing a fair amount with you, yourself.
Snrkhg, no! [He leans over to poke Ignis briefly with his elbow.] You know I'm just teasing! Man, guess we hot twenty-somethings can't hardly make eye contact with our beautiful buddies without getting cast into imaginary foursomes around here, huh?
[Settling again, almost-but-not-quite sitting on the counter, Prompto smiles with more warmth than overbrightness.]
I'm really just happy you made a friend.
[A friend Ignis can talk to, a friend outside their tight little band. A friend free of all the baggage Lucis laid on their shoulders, with whom Ignis can just be Ignis and say whatever he wants, no matter what hilarious misunderstandings arise.]
...A big, beefy friend! [And Prompto's back to ribbing.] How many of us do you think he can bench-press at once, all three or just me and Noct?
[He can hear the genuine warmth in Prompto's tone at that admission, I'm really just happy you made a friend. It's not that Prompto's enthusiasm is any less genuine on other occasions, but this is something rare and special — the kind of delight that manages to be selfish even in its generosity, that seeks to lift both their spirits equally without being targeted specifically toward that end.]
His favorite food is noodles. I told him he's one tattoo away from bearing a striking resemblance to a friend of ours.
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[What do those three have in common that he doesn't? Right, the Citadel. The royal purpose, the royal pressure. Prompto considers that, drumming his fingers against the cabinets, then snorts.]
Well, what does that have to do with being your boyfriend? Unless you don't talk about your childhood with people you're not going to smoochtown with.
[He smiles a little, sort of soft, sort of sly.]
I noticed you're talking to Shiiirooo about your personal life. Have you been married to him since you were three, too?
no subject
[His eyes narrow just a hint, not angry but just calculating, watching that expression cross Prompto's face.]
Beg pardon, were you under the impression I only discuss my personal life with people I'm in a romantic relationship with? If that's the case, Shiro may have been correct after all, as I seem to recall discussing a fair amount with you, yourself.
no subject
[Settling again, almost-but-not-quite sitting on the counter, Prompto smiles with more warmth than overbrightness.]
I'm really just happy you made a friend.
[A friend Ignis can talk to, a friend outside their tight little band. A friend free of all the baggage Lucis laid on their shoulders, with whom Ignis can just be Ignis and say whatever he wants, no matter what hilarious misunderstandings arise.]
...A big, beefy friend! [And Prompto's back to ribbing.] How many of us do you think he can bench-press at once, all three or just me and Noct?
no subject
[He can hear the genuine warmth in Prompto's tone at that admission, I'm really just happy you made a friend. It's not that Prompto's enthusiasm is any less genuine on other occasions, but this is something rare and special — the kind of delight that manages to be selfish even in its generosity, that seeks to lift both their spirits equally without being targeted specifically toward that end.]
His favorite food is noodles. I told him he's one tattoo away from bearing a striking resemblance to a friend of ours.
no subject
[And what a lovely realization that is. Boy, Prompto misses their missing Casanova. Loyally, however, he adds:]
I think Gladio would win in a beef-off, though. Like, strictly objectively! Our big guy is bigger.