Disclaimer: I don't own FFXV.

Warning: Noctis/Prompto.

Note: Enjoy.

Summary: "I'm sick and tired of seeing you hurt!"

Chapter One

He never once blamed his father.

Despite the abuse, Prompto still loved him. It didn't matter if his father hit him, punched him, or even broke his arm. It wasn't his father's fault, just the mixture of alcohol and drugs in his system.

After all, Prompto's father was grieving. The death of his mother weighed heavily on the both of them, but mostly his father. He missed his mother as well - wished he could've done more to help her, like his father always said so. He just couldn't handle the pressure - trying to be the sole reason for someone living, especially as a child.

"All she ever wanted was a child. You were supposed to make her happy. That's why I adopted you in the first place!"

"I-I'm sorry …"

"You did the exact opposite, though. You just brought her more pain, just drove her to killing herself and leaving me behind!"

"I'm so sorry …"

"I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses. Get out of my sight!"

oOo

He walked to school.

His father was too intoxicated and upset to drive him. However, Prompto still arrived on time, with his backpack, books, and broken arm. Of course, Prompto's battered and bruised disheveled self created quite a ruckus among his classmates, but he reassured them with a small smile.

Unlike his classmates, Prompto's unbothered demeanor didn't convince his best friend. The crown prince had seen him way too many times injured. It was a common occurrence - too common of late, especially because his mother's death anniversary was just around the corner.

"What happened to you this time?"

"It's nothing to worry about. I just got into a fight with some guys from my old school."

"Am I supposed to believe that? Am I supposed to believe a bunch of high school students did this to you?"

"You can believe whatever you want, but that's the truth."

"Is it, Prompto?"

"Yes, Noct."

oOo

He timed the crown prince.

Since he had a broken arm, Prompto was exempt from any physical activities. However, Prompto's teacher was still making him participate in class, like timing his classmates on their runs. He happily did so - cheering them on, as they ran by him.

Once Noctis finished his mile, Prompto congratulated him. However, Noctis scoffed drily, just before shedding his shirt. He saw many others doing so as well - removing their shirts, even girls, who were tank tops underneath. It's something he would never do - something he can't do, especially because of his injuries.

There were many - dark purplish patches, from being beat regularly. They were so ugly. How could he ever show his body, then?

"You beat your previous time! I'm sure Gladio would be so proud of you."

"Maybe you should take lessons from him. You need them more than I do."

"What do you mean, Noct?"

"I'm sick and tired of seeing you hurt, Prompto. Do you know what else I'm tired of as well?"

"What?"

"I'm tired of being lied to."

oOo

He waited in the locker room.

In due time, Noctis emerged from the shower, with a towel around his hips. Unlike Noctis, Prompto would change in the shower stalls - telling Noctis he's shy, especially because he's so scrawny. It was a perfect excuse - one everyone could believe, except until a few weeks ago. The crown prince started giving him suspicious stares - looking him over, like right now.

Whatever suspicions he had, Noctis couldn't confirm them. After all, Prompto hid his injuries so well - wore extra layers, covering the handprints. It had become second nature to him - concealing the abuse, even lying to his best friend. He hated doing so - felt guilty and dirty, but he had to.

"Who are you protecting?"

"I'm not protecting anyone."

"Who are you protecting, Prompto?!"

"I told you already. I'm not protecting anyone."

"Who the fuck is it, Prompto?!"

"Please stop, Noct. I don't like when you're angry."

"Damn it, Prompto!"

oOo

He sat in the Regalia.

As Ignis drove, Prompto could see him glancing at the rearview mirror - eyeing his broken arm, with those green eyes. He felt uncomfortable, like he was under a microscope. He quickly looked away, just before gulping.

Meanwhile, Noctis stared out of the window - arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed together, still clearly angry. He began fidgeting - nervously recoiling away, scooting towards the farthest corner of the backseat. He hid himself there - chewing his lower lip, as his neighborhood came into view.

"This is your house, right? I'll walk you to the front door."

"You don't have to. I can manage on my own."

"I don't mind, Prompto. It looks like your dad is home. How has he been, anyway?"

"M-My dad is fine. Why are you asking, Noct?"

"I was curious. You don't talk about him a lot."

"T-There's not much to say."

"I wonder why."

oOo

He followed beside Noctis.

The front door opened, then. His father stood in the threshold - tall and towering, just over his small frame. He looked down - bowing his head, as his father reached out. He flinched in response - waiting to be yanked inside, a common occurrence whenever he came home.

However, Noctis stepped between him and his father, with a grin. Without hesitation, Noctis extended his hand, which his father reluctantly shook. Unlike him, Noctis was confident - poised and proud, his royal upbringing shining through.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Argentum. It's about time that we met," Noctis smirked, as Prompto's heart fluttered fearfully. "Don't you think so?"

"I guess so," his father scowled, as Noctis' hands retreated into pockets. "Is there anything I can do for you, Your Highness?"

"Your son and I have plans tonight. He'll be staying with me, but don't worry. I promise I'll take good care of him."

"I've never heard of these plans. My son never mention them."

"They were a little spontaneous, a spur of the moment thing."

"When will my son return home?"

"I'll let you know. You may carry on with your day. We're leaving. Come now, Prompto."

oOo

He trailed after Noctis.

However, Prompto still looked behind him. His father was furious, like always. He turned away, with his stomach churning anxiously. He hoped his father would understand, that this isn't his fault. He hadn't planned a sleepover, not without his permission. He knew better, but disobeying his prince isn't an option.

So, Prompto looked away. He'll be punished later on - obvious enough, especially because of his father's furious stare. It'll be far worse - worser than the punishments for coming home late or not answering a phone call, even getting a bad grade on a test. It frightened him, terrified him.

"N-Noct …"

"Yes, Prompto?"

"N-Nevermind. It's nothing."

"You still won't talk to me, then."

"W-What do you mean?"

"It's alright. You'll confess everything soon enough."

A/N: What do you think? Leave me your thoughts.