This was a request from a guest on here. Thanks for sending in this idea! It was really fun to write!

Summary: ***Chapter 13 SPOILERS*** After Prompto reveals his origin to the group, Noctis takes him aside for a few extra words of comfort
(Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Established Relationship)

"You're one of us, right?" Gladio smiled, taking hold of Ignis' arm, and giving Prompto's shoulder a playful punch. Prompto's heart was still pounding. How could everything be okay after what he'd just told these guys? Why didn't they mind that he had malicious potential within him? Why didn't they care that he could open doors and who knew what else with that awful mark burned into his skin? He was supposed to be an MT, those same soulless creatures that they had destroyed time and time again, and yet, they weren't concerned that he was cut from the same cloth.

"Unless you'd rather not be," Ignis added, turning back to him with a smile as Gladio led him from the room, and Prompto realized that whatever the reason, they accepted him. They honestly didn't think of him any differently than they had two minutes ago, and that feeling of acceptance was stifling. Still, he wanted to know what Noct thought, what he would say if they weren't in the presence of the others. After all, in some ways, he'd betrayed Noct more than he had anyone else. They'd been best friends for years, then more than friends, and even at that point, he had done everything in his power to keep Noct from discovering his secret.

"We'll give you two a minute," Gladio spoke up gently; the way Prompto's gaze lingered on Noctis hadn't gone unnoticed. Noctis looked up at Prompto as Gladio continued to guide Ignis into the next room, and Prompto hesitantly raised his head. Eyes locked, and Noctis gave his friend a wave, coaxing him back toward the previous hallway, out of earshot of the other men.

"Come on, Prompto. It's no big deal, alright?" Noctis smiled, ducking his head to catch Prompto's eye again as Prompto's head fell toward the floor.

"But it is. You don't understand... how long I've had to hide this," Prompto uttered, voice so low and anxious. His left hand clasped over his right, covering up the leather band that still concealed the dreaded mark. Noctis frowned as his thoughts travelled back to their younger days. Even before they'd been formally introduced, back when Prompto had been a lonely little chubby kid, he'd always worn something over his wrist—sweatbands, kerchiefs... Such a huge burden for a child so young. Maybe his insecurities had taken root way back then.

Noctis wondered, how had young Prompto even known what that mark meant? Surely someone else had discovered it and told him to hide it. His parents, perhaps? A teacher? Noctis shuddered to think of what a horrible experience that must have been, and how hard it would have been for a child to try to grasp.

"You should have told me. I wouldn't have cared," Noctis assured him with a playful shrug. Prompto raised his head again and stared at Noct with a seriousness that was normally nowhere near his cheery face.

"But I didn't know that. You were Lucian royalty, and I was created to be your enemy," Prompto explained in the simplest way he could. He solemnly shook his head, his gaze tumbling toward the ground before his eyes closed softly.

"Prompto?"

Violet-blue eyes flew back open, and Prompto instinctively jumped as he felt a hand fall upon his leather-bound wrist. Noctis remained calm, even as Prompto's expression turned to that of fear and horror. The prince's tranquil gaze held Prompto's as he brought his wrist to eye-level. Carefully, Noctis began to unclasp the leather strap, feeling Prompto flinch under his grasp, like he wasn't used to having anyone touch that tainted skin.

"Noct, you don't have to— Noct—" Prompto scrambled to say, each word coming out more frantic. He looked tearful now as Noctis stared into that frightened face, and Noctis felt a painful tug at his heart. Why hadn't he been smart enough to figure this out? How could he have been so stupid not to notice Prompto was hiding something all these years? How could he expect to solve the problems of an entire kingdom when he couldn't even see when the people he loved more than anything were suffering right in front of him?

But Prompto was suffering. Badly. He didn't feel he deserved Noctis' trust—or anyone's trust, for that matter. It was obvious to Noctis that he believed that that mark alone made him an enemy to the Crown, regardless of how loyal he had been to the prince's company during their long journey together. Noctis had to make him see the truth.

"This isn't you," Noctis said, a sternness finding its way into his blue irises as he gently shook Prompto's wrist. He eyed the black inked lines that had rarely seen daylight, then focused on Prompto again. Prompto's bottom lip was trembling, his tear-filled eyes staring at his companion in question.

"You are so much more than this." Noctis gave his wrist another gentle shake, and with those words, he had Prompto lowering his head again to choke back a sob. Noctis grazed a thumb tenderly over the codeprint before lowering their hands. He kept Prompto's wrist in his gentle hold as he leaned in, his lips brushing over Prompto's cheek before resting his head on his friend's shoulder. His arms wrapped around Prompto, pulling him into an embrace, and he felt Prompto's free arm pull him in to do the same.

Prompto reciprocated Noctis' actions, resting his head on the prince's shoulder and letting out a shaky breath that was filled with more relief than anything else. His heart felt like it could burst. Even despite his deceit, Noctis was as kindhearted as ever, accepting him with open arms. It was something he'd never received in all his life, not on this level. Even those few who had discovered his secret, they had never encouraged him to display his MT brand out in the open like this. They had never told him that it was okay.

Prompto glanced down at the ground where the leather strap lay abandoned. Clearly, Noctis didn't believe he needed it anymore, and maybe he should believe that, too. He knew now, by the way Noct held him close and by the way soft kisses were being pressed against his ear and hair, that Noct would defend him if anyone tried to tell him differently.

"Thank you, Noct," Prompto whispered, the arm around Noctis' shoulders pulling him into a loving squeeze.

"Don't mention it," Noctis smiled.