A/N: I've been writing a BL visual novel for the last six months so I'm kinda stuck in the line-by-line style of writing dialogue. Ma bad.
Anyways, I'm trans and on my period and super grumpy and hangry so let's write a story based on that time I broke up with a swell guy because I'm an insecure piece of shit.
This is pretty much trash lol.
It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
Prompto curled into a tighter ball than the one he was already curled into, squeezing his arms tight around his tiny body. The blankets he had hauled from his linen closet and dumped rather unceremoniously onto his sofa were pulled up past his ears, so that only his eyes and a messy tuft of hair were visible. Should anyone have laid eyes on him, they would have probably thought that they were looking at a baby chocobo butt, or something.
If only. Man, what Prompto wouldn't do to be a cute little bird, rather than… Whatever the hell he was.
His mood soured even further at the thought. His eyes returned to the television set that had been occupying his attention for the last gazillion hours. This fucking sucked.
It started three nights ago, when Prompto was looking down into the toilet bowl while he wiped and commending himself on being so hydrated. Like, damn, look at that water. It's barely even yellow. He was so damn hydrated – Ignis'd be proud. Then, a painfully familiar splotch of pink showed up on the paper.
For a surprisingly long minute, Prompto couldn't even figure out what he was looking at. It had been so long since it had last happened, that he had genuinely come to believe that the testosterone in his system was preventing it from ever happening again. But, there it was, in all of its bad omen glory: The start of his menstrual cycle.
He had expected it would be just some light spotting, like the first couple of years of being on T.
He was dead fucking wrong.
Three days in, and Prompto was one fraying nerve away from a complete meltdown. Not a fit of tears like the day before, when he realized that this would be a full cycle, but a hair-pulling, lip-chewing, skin-tearing meltdown like the kind he got when he was a teenager and his anxiety went unchecked. It was stupid, really. A full grown man losing his marbles because he was menstruating like every other person with a vagina did. It was just… The implications. The reminder that there was something wrong with him, like his body was one mega birth defect. And it was painful as hell, like a fucking vice squeezing down on his uterus.
A small, pained groan didn't quite make it out Prompto's throat, just kind of getting stuck behind his tongue. Christ on a bike – why did this have to hurt?! Like, damn, Prompto understood that he was basically shedding his insides, but it didn't hurt to shed hair or let an old scab fall off of healed skin. So why did periods feel like his vagina was being folded inside out?
Also, for some reason, it made him super constipated and that was just so uncool.
Anyways, the whole stupid ordeal started on Friday, which meant that he had every excuse to lounge around (read: sulk all day) in his pajamas without leaving his apartment – or the couch, really. But… Today was Monday. And Mondays always started with training, because Gladiolus was a psychopath that woke them all up at the buttcrack of dawn to run ten miles and spar on the mat. So, when he heard a heavy knock on the door that probably sounded normal to Gladiolus but sounded like his door was about to be broken down to literally any normal human being, Prompto shouldn't have been surprised.
He snuggled down into his cocoon and muted the TV. Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd go away.
Unfortunately for Prompto, he wasn't lucky.
"Prompto, open up."
He held his breath.
"Prompto, I heard the TV."
He screwed his eyes shut.
"Are you still in bed? It's three in the afternoon – what is this, your Noctis impersonation?"
Prompto actually kind of laughed at that, which made a big ole gloop of blood and tissue slip out of his body, which made him immediately stop to cringe at his body's natural defenses towards anything pleasant.
"Prompto, are you alright? Have you fallen ill?"
The introduction of Ignis's soft, velvety voice sent a pang of guilt through Prompto's chest. Of course Ignis would be concerned – that tended to happen when you ignored every call and text from your best friends, then skipped out on training for the first time since he was granted the privilege of being a member of the Crownsguard. If Prompto was known for anything other than photography and very selective ornithology, it was his dedication towards his training and always replying to messages. As far as they were concerned, Prompto might as well have died or been nabbed by bodysnatchers.
Man, he was such a moron.
"Wait – when did you get a key to his apartment?"
Ignis didn't respond verbally or, if he did, it was low enough for it to not reach Prompto's ears. The door to his studio apartment opened, and Ignis was at his side so quickly that Prompto briefly wondered if he had somehow learned to mimic Noctis's warping.
Cool fingers brushed against his forehead as Ignis pressed the back of his palm to what parts of Prompto's face he could.
"You do feel warm," he murmured, seemingly more to himself than anyone else in the room, "But I imagine that the absurd amount of blankets you have wrapped yourself in could have contributed to that."
"Seriously, dude, it's April. Why do you need so many damn blankets when it's sixty-five outside?"
Gladiolus's voice was teasing, but the mirth didn't reach his dark eyes; he was getting worried.
"Are you feeling feverish? Why did you fail to call me? You should be seeing a physician, not lying about –"
"I feel…" Prompto took hold of Ignis's wrist, failing to meet his concerned gaze, "I feel gross."
It was their secret code. Prompto could never bring himself to say the word, and Ignis knew that he couldn't bear to hear it. There were too many negative connotations in the word dysphoric - too many reminders that he was by definition suffering from a mental illness, too many reminders of the nights he went to bed frustrated and bitter.
Ignis's expression didn't immediately change into something else. He was still very much concerned for his partner, but for different reasons. At least the wrinkle in his forehead smoothed out a bit.
Too ashamed for any conversation, Prompto disappeared entirely under the blankets as he head Ignis rise to a standing position and walk over to where Gladiolus was still leaning against the wall. Ignis was whispering, likely for Prompto's sake, but Prompto's apartment was like four hundred square feet so it wasn't like it made much of a difference.
"So he is sick?"
"No, I can assure you that Prompto will be quite alright. I do, however, believe it would be best if we were left alone."
"You're sure? You want me to get you guys anything?"
"I appreciate the offer, but that won't be necessary. I only need you to let his Highness know that I will be unable to prepare him dinner, this evening -sans any specific details regarding Prompto, of course."
A beat. Prompto assumed Gladiolus was hesitating, like he normally did when he was in big brother mode.
"Alright, but you better call me if something happens."
Six, he loved his friends so much.
A few more words of assurance from Ignis, and some bear-like grunts from Gladio, and the door clicked shut mere moments before Ignis had returned to kneel by the sofa. He didn't say anything at first, just resting his hand over where he thought Prompto's head may be underneath all of those blankets. There was a greenhouse effect happening in his cocoon that was making his current position too warm for comfort, but Prompto couldn't bring himself to emerge from the hidey hole when his nether regions felt disgusting and his unbound chest ached from all of the hormones and the little tummy pudge he still had from his fat kid days felt particularly pudgy.
Ignis didn't try to coax him out from the blankets, either, or dip his hands under the layers in search of him. That was one of the thousands of amazing things that Prompto loved about him – he was patient, and he wholly respected every single person he came in contact with.
"Did something happen?"
A half-hearted chuckle was mostly muted by the comforters Prompto had draped over his head.
"Nature, I guess," he muttered.
Another really great thing about Ignis was that he was quick as a whip; he didn't need much information before drawing to an accurate conclusion. He heard him sigh, and felt him lean his head onto the mound of blankets.
"I'm sorry, Iggy…"
"Apologize for worrying us," was Ignis's calm response, "Not for feeling betrayed by your body."
"I really messed up, this time, didn't I?"
"I would not say you inflicted any genuine harm, but it took quite a bit of negotiating to convince Noctis to hold off on sending the entire Lucis army out in search of you."
An amused smile played in Ignis's voice, and a quiet giggle bubbled past Prompto's lips. He could see it now: Noctis, all stuffy-looking from keeping his emotions pent up, with an exasperated Ignis trying to gently wrestle his phone out of his grip while talking to him like he was about to declare war on Tenebrae over a disagreement with Luna over vegetables.
"And now you're not even gonna make him dinner."
"That is because I would much rather spend the evening with my little birb."
Prompto should've never told him that that word meant. All he was doing was joking about memes with Noctis, the word came up, and Ignis had since then been calling him his little birb. It was so cute that it was disgusting, and it made Prompto's tummy flutter every time he said it, and it made it very difficult for his petty ass to cling to the negative feelings he was using as a shield to hide from the world.
"Kweh."
Ignis laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound, and took the green light to pull some of the blankets back. The sudden reintroduction to sunlight burned his eyes, but the welcomed rush of cool air on his cheeks and the familiar lips kissing his nose more than made up for it.
"Is it just nature?" he asked, fingertips tracing Prompto's jaw with the same level of care one would show for exceedingly fine crystal.
Prompto nodded, keeping his gaze averted, "Yeah. It started a few days ago."
Ignis shifted so that he was sitting on the side of his folded legs, "Have you everything you need?"
Another code message, because Prompto would let Ravus Nox Fleuret finger-bang him with his magitek prosthetic arm before he admitted to wearing the equivalent to lady diapers.
Prompto sighed and buried his face into the pillow he was using.
"Nnh, uh rnn oft dhis mrnnn."
"Prompto, I implore you to not buy into the misconceptions regarding the blind and their hearing. My hearing is no sharper than it was when I could see you and Noct sneaking cookies when you thought my back was turned."
Heat rushed to Prompto's cheeks, and he sputtered for a good long moment before wrenching his face from the pillow to gape at his partner.
"Wait, you knew?!"
Ignis's smile was as warm and kind as it ever was, and he lifted one hand to tweak his nose.
"Why do you think I always left them in that particular location?" he asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "That way you two always knew where they were. Besides, what other reason could there have possibly been for me to have to replenish the jar's stock so frequently?"
Prompto looked and felt positively scandalized, to which Ignis only laughed and shook his head.
"So, again, I ask: do you have everything you need, or would you like me to take a trip to the store for you? From what I recall, this is not exactly a regular occurrence for you."
No, it really wasn't. What few bouts of spotting he endured over the years usually cleared up within a day or two, but this was the kind of cycle he had to deal with when he was still pre-T. All of his liners were soaked through within an hour or so, and he had run out of everything he had this morning; he just opted to stuff his underwear with toilet paper.
Of course, when he told Ignis of this, his reaction was less than favorable.
"Honestly, Prom, you are one of the most ridiculous beings I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."
That was confusingly endearing, in its own way.
"I will go to the store on your behalf before you wind up with a urinary tract infection from a wad of tissue being lodged in your urethra. Call me should you require anything else."
A swift kiss to the tip of his nose, again, and Ignis was making his way to the door.
Ignis… May have bitten off a tad more than he could chew.
He held a gloved finger to his lips as his mind worked to find a way out of his predicament. When he had offered to purchase hygiene products for Prompto, he didn't take into consideration that he had no experience in the matter.
Sure, he understood that menstrual cycles were their worst in the middle of the week, then petered off towards the end, but there were so many options available to him, and he had only the faintest clue of what Prompto preferred: the brand. Prompto used the same brand for as long as he had known him. It was actually how Ignis had accidentally stumbled upon his secret: while searching for a roll of toilet paper to replace the one he had used up, he found a stash of hygiene products under the sink. He felt truly awful when Prompto felt compelled to out himself when Ignis asked why there was no spare roll beneath the sink, but it provided him with some handy knowledge for the future.
Also, it was a little difficult to find what you needed when you could only make out strongly contrasting lights and shadows, at best.
Which was how he found himself approaching a feminine-sounding voice at the customer help desk.
"Good afternoon! Is there anything I can help you with?"
When Ignis relayed his current predicament, the clerk chirped that she was happy to help him out and he was faintly reminded of Iris.
"So, you don't know how… his? Flow gets?"
There was an obviously confused lilt to her question, but she sounded more curious than combative, like too many of Insomnia's residents.
"I am afraid not."
"Do you know if he worries about odor?"
What in the Astrals? That was something that people had to worry about?
"Not to the extent of my knowledge…"
Ignis did not enjoy being underprepared in any situation, especially not this underprepared. He would call Prompto to ask, but worried about embarrassing him. He had called Noctis to ask if he knew anything, but only received an embarrassed "Hell no!" as a response. And, well, Gladio only knew enough to understand why Prompto had to inject himself in the thigh every two weeks.
"Okay, well, why don't we do this?"
He heard the clerk shuffle forward, and there was a rustling of plastic.
"When all else fails, it's best to go overboard than be underprepared, right? So let's pick out some overnight maxi pads, and some thin overnight pads for the last couple days. They're nice and long on both ends so there're less chances of leaking. Does he get bad cramping?"
Aha! Something Ignis knew!
"He complains about them rather fervently," he said a little too proudly.
Thankfully, the clerk either didn't pick up on it or chose to ignore it as she carefully passed the two packages to him.
"If he doesn't have some already, I really suggest picking up this stuff called Midol," she said cheerily, a slim hand touching the edge of his elbow, "It helps with pain and a lot of PMS symptoms."
What on Earth?
"Like ibuprofen?"
"Kinda! But I feel like ibuprofen only really helps with the backaches. Midol does a way better job with dealing with all of the pain, like muscle cramps and headaches, and helps with bloating and tiredness, too."
When Ignis discovered Prompto's gender dysphoria, he immediately went home and researched everything he possibly could on what it meant to be a transgender man. He felt he was rather informed on the matter and left it at that, but he had clearly missed several marks by passing up on the opportunity to learn what problems he could face by experiencing that time of the month.
To be fair, he hadn't much of a reason to know much beyond the basics. His attention was primarily focused on Noctis for the majority of his life and, by the time he and Prompto had begun to grow closer, Prompto was far enough along in his transition to where it was never an issue.
It didn't make him feel any better about the issue, though. He let the clerk talk him into whatever over the counter drug she recommended, hoping that it was a genuine recommendation and not a way for her to boost her store's sales, and made a mental note to do more research on Moogle when he had the chance.
Things were not going well for Prompto while his partner was at the store.
Everything started out fine – or, as fine as they could be – thanks to Iggy pulling him out of his shitty headspace without Prompto even realizing it. He had been actually enjoying the Futurama reruns he was watching, rather than just staring at the screen, and he was even thinking about getting off of the couch to forage through his cupboards for food.
Then that fucking commercial played.
Look, Prompto isn't exactly the type to wallow in insecurities. Sure, growing up as the fat kid left its emotional, and physical, scars, but it wasn't like he was someone that got triggered over little shit. But there was just something about that stupid commercial that hit every single one of his nerves in the span of thirty seconds.
It was a surprisingly raunchy advertisement for cologne, and it followed the similar formula for luxury fragrance commercials with a black and white filter, ripped guys flexing their abs and rolling their hips, and some voice with a super heavy accent saying the brand name. But there was something about seeing one model crawl over the other in a jockstrap, all broad shoulders and rippling muscles, and a bulge grazing over the guy still wearing jeans… No, it wasn't even "something." Prompto knew what it was – he was upset because that wasn't something he could ever have.
He had been taking his testosterone injections every two weeks since he was thirteen but, no matter how hard he worked, that kind of frame was something he knew he could never have. There would always be a curve to his hips. His body would always remain lean and trim, lacking any real muscle mass even after working with Gladio to bulk up (which just resulted in him getting cut, or gaining fat). His skin would never be even and smooth like his, too littered with white and mauve scars that striped all of the soft parts of his body. Most of all, he'd never have a proper working dick to rub against Ignis like that – to fuck him with.
And that's what hurt the worst. Knowing he'd never be able to give his partner the kind of sex he wanted. Prompto knew that he was hurting Ignis with all of his baggage, and he couldn't even make it up to him by giving him what he needed.
There was an easy solution. It was a solution that made him panic, but… Prompto knew it was for the best. Ignis could do so, so much better than him.
So, when Ignis reentered his apartment with three grocery bags stuffed with the hygiene products and what would inevitably become their dinner, his ears were met with sobs stifled by Prompto's pillow.
"Prompto!?"
Prompto froze, sinking his teeth into his already raw and nearly bloody lip. He sniffled.
Ignis quickly crossed the distance between them, grocery bags forgotten by the door, to crouch next to the sofa. He sank the fingers of one hand in Prompto's mussed hair, the other coming to rest on his shoulder.
"What is wrong? Is it the pain – are your cramps so terrible?"
"Nothing," Prompto's voice sounded thick and miserable in his own ears, "Got a runny nose, that's all."
Truth be told, Ignis's hurt expression was more painful than the intrusive thoughts that whittled away at his resolve. There was a disappointment that etched itself into every one of Ignis's features, put there by Prompto's piss-poor attempt at fibbing in some vain attempt at sparing Ignis from his bullshit.
"Is this where we are, now?" Ignis asked, quiet voice pained, "Have we become the kind of couple that lies to one another?"
They had been together long enough that Prompto knew that he was more hurt by the implication that he didn't trust him, rather than the fact that he lied. He tried to sigh, but a fresh sob tumbled past his lips and ruined it.
"I-I'm sorry, Iggy…"
The hand on his shoulder slipped to his cheek, where he wiped away a new tear track.
"Shush, my love, I have already forgiven you."
Ignis, bless his heart, thought he was still stuck on skipping out on training to sulk, and it catapulted Prompto into hysterics. Of course he didn't understand what he was talking about – Ignis was normal. He was beautiful and perfect and talented and never had to worry about not fitting in or being unattractive or lacking in anything.
To say that Ignis had been taken by surprise would be a gross understatement, but his reaction times were the best in their foursome so he was quick to recover. All Prompto could manage was to sob into Ignis's shirt, wrapping his arms around himself as if it would put a stop to his incessant trembling, but Ignis crowded all of his personal space by shuffling closer and cradling his head to his chest.
Being wrapped up by Ignis's body should have been comforting. He always smelled like sunshine on fresh linen, and other beautiful poetic things, and that smell wafting over him was better than any one of those fancy candles Ignis bought for the bedroom. Being cornered between Ignis's body and the couch should have provided the kind of tight space that made him feel safe and protected.
But it didn't. Prompto continued to let himself succumb to every horrible thought and emotion that had been plaguing him for the last few days on his own.
The whole time, Ignis whispered tender words of comfort in his ear, fingers combing through his hair and untangling any knots he encountered, until Prompto could finally speak through his hysterics.
"I think we should maybe break up."
Silence.
It was so much easier to say than he had thought it would be. Everything they had together, everything they could have in the future, was so easily destroyed with one deceptively small sentence.
The arm around his shoulders tensed, and Prompto could hear his breath stop for one very agonizingly long minute.
Then, a long, gusty sigh.
"I know you do not mean that, my love."
"I do."
"You don't –"
"You don't know anything!" Prompto practically wailed, despite still pressing his face into Ignis's purple and black leopard print shirt (which would look tacky on literally anyone else).
There was another long pause.
"You are right."
Sure that Ignis was ready to take his suggestion and end their relationship, Prompto's already manic sobbing somehow managed to become even more uncontrollable. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. His chest was tight and he felt nauseous and every inch of his head ached, and he could only barely hear Ignis's smooth voice over the sounds of his own crying.
"I don't understand – not truly, try as I might. I can only empathize with your situation, and believe me when I say that it is so terribly frustrating to know that the limits of my knowledge leave me unable to bring you comfort," Ignis crooned in his ear, "But I do know that you love me just as much as I love you – and I do, Prompto. I love you with every fiber of my being, and that includes every aspect of you."
Prompto only barely was able to draw enough breath to speak.
"But, you're gay!"
"A revolutionary observ-" Ignis halted mid-snark for a long moment. "Is… Oh, Prompto…"
Ignis moved like a snake, sliding around Prompto's prone form to sit where he was previously laying. He wrapped his arms around his upper back to hold him to his chest, propping his feet up on the footrest he had popped out from the couch to close Prompto off from the rest of the world. The blankets were tugged up to his shoulders, and Ignis lowered his head so his nose was brushing his ear.
"Prompto, you are going to be silent, and you are going to listen to what I have to say."
"Just go -!"
"Be silent, love."
Why wouldn't he just take the out?! Prompto was giving him the perfect opportunity to walk away – all he had to do was drop his sorry ass back on the couch and walk out the door to experience the kind of freedom he couldn't have for the last seven years.
Still, Prompto was beginning to wear himself out. His cycle was already making him lethargic, and breaking down the day before left him numb and too upset to sleep, so he had gone into this running on fumes, as it was.
"Let me begin by saying that you would be doing me no favors by breaking my heart," Ignis nearly whispered, sending Prompto into another fit of tears, "You would not be helping me by robbing me of the endless love and joy that I have basked in for the better part of a decade. You have introduced a happiness into my life that can only be described as a ray of sunlight piercing through stormclouds, and you only continue to make me happier with each and every passing day."
Ignis brushed his bangs from his face, following the motion through to comb his fingers through his hair.
"That said, I have never, for even the briefest of moments, thought of you as any less of a man as the rest of our motley crew. You are every bit as masculine as Gladiolus, you are just as effective in combat as Noctis, and you make me feel safer and more cared for in bed than any other partner I have ever had."
He paused to kiss his ear, his hair, his temple. Oh, how he loved with Ignis kissed him…
"You know I wouldn't dare force you to stay with me, if you truly wish to end our relationship," he continued, and Prompto's stomach roiled at how devastated he sounded, "But if you are doing it because of the silicone you use to make love to me, or the scars on your body, then I will be the first to tell you that you are being absurd."
He was stupid. He was so fucking stupid.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Seven years – they've been together for seven years, and he was about to tear it up because he was feeling emotional? Because he was insecure?
For fuck's sake, this would ruin Iggy's life as much as it would ruin his.
He was so fucking stupid.
He should just die –
"Prompto, my love, it is time to stop crying, now," Ignis cooed, massaging the base of his skull with his fingers, "Come, now, it isn't that bad. You know everything is alright."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm –"
"I know, love. You needn't apologize to me for feeling inadequate."
"But, I almost –"
"I know what you almost did, and I refuse to hear any more of the matter. You are forgiven and, far as I am concerned, it is already behind us."
Okay, so maybe that wasn't entirely true for Ignis. He knew that it would take several nights of going to sleep and waking up with his lover snuggled up next to him to reassure him that Prompto would not actually be leaving him, but he couldn't bring himself to display that kind of honesty in that moment. Prompto needed him to be strong and level-headed, and showing just how shaken Ignis felt by the idea of being separated from his partner would only make Prompto's anxiety worse.
How he wished he could just absorb all of his hurt and insecurities…
"How… How can you even stand me?"
Ignis offered a cautious, tired smile and kissed his hair.
"How many times must I repeat myself?" he asked with as much warmth as possible, "I love you, Prompto. I love you because you always put me first, and you listen to my near-endless soliloquies when I am sorting out Noctis's insufferable schedule, and because of the way your skin gets warm whenever I tell you just how much I love you. I love the way your voice rings in the same way I remember you eyes glitter when you take a particularly fantastic photograph. I love the way you think that, just because I am blind, I don't know you are taking candid pictures of me when I am working. I love the way you treat my meals like a blessing each day, even if I have made it a thousand times. I love how you sleep with your head tilted back and your mouth hanging open, even though you always complain about your mouth being dry when you wake up. I love your smile, as terribly as I miss seeing it. I love you for how devoted you are to your country…"
His smile turned sly, and he lowered his voice.
"I love all the needy little noises you make, and the way you pull my hair, when I go down on you…"
Prompto's cheeks flared, and he yanked the covers over his head to hide. "Iggy!"
Ignis chuckled, pressing his lips to his head. "But I haven't even gotten to the part where I love how you clamp down on my cock when you c-"
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Blushing furiously, Prompto slapped a hand over Ignis's laughing mouth, "Jeeze, man!"
"And, oh, when you choke and gag on it when you are being held –"
"Iggy, please, I'm gonna die of embarrassment here!"
Peeling the blanket back, Ignis hauled Prompto back into his lap to slant his mouth over his.
"But I haven't even gotten to the part where I tell you how much I love it when I have you tied to the bed –"
"Oh, god!"
"And you're begging for me to beat you harder with the crop –"
"Ignis…"
"And you're so aroused that, the instant I touch you, you come all over my fingers…"
Prompto squirmed, rubbing his knees together, and didn't protest when Ignis nipped at his lips, "Iggy… I…"
Ignis slipped a gloved hand under the hem of Prompto's t-shirt, fingers gliding over his skin to give his waist a firm squeeze.
"Go get cleaned up, get that insufferable wad of toilet paper out of your underwear, and meet me in the bedroom."
Prompto was out of his lap and had the bathroom door shut behind him in three seconds flat.
Ignis chuckled and stood up to grab a towel from the linen closet.