Summary: After rescuing Prompto from Ardyn, Noct comes to comfort him their first night in the Keep.
(Hurt/Comfort)

"Hey," Noct said gently, voice cautious, almost hesitant as he walked into the bunker. He was holding one of their travel thermoses as he entered, and Prompto could see the steam rising from it from where he sat on one of the lower bunk beds. It had been courteous of the boys to give him a few minutes to himself to collect his thoughts, but Prompto had spent his moments of privacy checking himself thoroughly for injuries instead. And honestly, he was grateful to see Noct appear in the doorway; he'd had more than enough of being on his own.

"I had to ask Ignis how to make it. I hope it's okay," Noct murmured, offering the thermos to his friend. Prompto motioned for him to sit down next to him, and he took the beverage gingerly. His fingers seemed uncertain and his arms stiff—whether it was due to lingering pain and tension from being held in restraints for so long, or fear that this was merely another of Ardyn's illusions, Noct wasn't sure; he wasn't even positive which was the better option.

"Thanks, Noct," Prompto smiled, but it was weak. Noct's heart twinged at the sight of the young man, who looked so far from the beaming boy what he normally was. He looked exhausted and a little scared, even now, like he was expecting the Chancellor to jump out at any moment. The cuts and bruises scattered across his face only added to Noctis' unease. Prompto—his kindhearted, cheerful Prompto—had been hurt by this world for the hundredth time over, this time maybe even worse than ever.

He wanted to know everything, from the moment they'd been separated on the train to now when they'd found him. He wanted to know every detail about what Prompto had seen or learned, about who he'd encountered and how he'd obtained so many injuries, but he didn't know if Prompto was as ready to speak as he was to listen. It wasn't until Prompto spoke that he realized he'd been staring at those dreaded red scratches that tarnished his cheeks.

"This is delicious. Thanks," Prompto said, another smile appearing under his purple-streaked nose as he swallowed a mouthful of his tea with milk and honey. It wasn't quite up to Ignis' standards. Normally, the idea that Ignis couldn't effortlessly prepare it like he used to would have chilled Prompto to the bone, but knowing that his favourite hot beverage had come from Noct instead soothed him to his very core. Heat radiated from the cup, warming his cold, creaky fingers and continuing on to his weary heart. It was just like Noct to go the extra mile, and try to make things better.

"Everything's falling apart," Noct breathed, hands lacing together against his knees. He felt a blue-eyed gaze find him, and he realized he'd said the words aloud when he'd meant to keep them to himself.

"Heh, guess so." Prompto had somehow managed a chuckle. He quickly gulped down another swig of tea before its warmth wore off and left him feeling eerily cold.

"First Gladio comes back from the trials looking like he got mugged, Ignis loses his sight, we're forced to abandon the Regalia, and now..." Noct's gaze wandered up toward his friend, but Prompto cut him off.

"I'm fine, Noct," he assured him, keeping his gaze on the wall straight ahead. He wanted to get that out there before Noct added his name to that list of tragedies. His quick reply must have set some sort of warning off in Noct's head, for he felt the prince scoot a little closer to him, so close that their legs touched from their thighs to their knees. Noctis' gaze followed his to the blank, white wall ahead of them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Noct tried. Prompto chuckled immediately; Noct figured it must have been a defence mechanism. No way was any of this funny.

"What I really wanna do is cry, but I'm not gonna do that to you, dude." Prompto's voice was airy, his tone light and teasing, but Noctis turned his head toward him, his light blue eyes unbelievably serious.

"You can do that, too," came his reply, still dead serious as Prompto met his gaze, his eyes containing a gentleness that made Prompto want to give in, but doing so would have been silly. He didn't find out the entire truth of his origin and take down his own 'father' to have a meltdown over something as trivial as Ardyn.

There was a pained twitch between Prompto's brows, but when it vanished, he simply pushed forth another smile.

"No, man, I'm not gonna—"

Prompto just finished placing his tea down on the floor when he felt his best friend's arm around his back. As he slowly sat back up, that arm coaxed him in against Noct's side. Prompto gave a curious glance up at Noct's worried eyes and tight mouth. The young prince didn't need to say anything more; his expression alone told Prompto that this was okay, that he could break down if he needed to. Noct knew he had been through a lot, and he didn't need to know the specifics to offer his comfort.

Maybe this wasn't just about Ardyn, or the way he'd tricked Noct into hurting Prompto, or even being trapped in this place for days on end. Maybe it was all of this and more—like what had happened after Noct had pushed him off the train. For Prompto, it was the wondering and the worrying as he trudged through the snow, the way he'd almost died of hypothermia, the way he'd confronted Verstael, his very creator. It was the pain of trying to burn his codeprint off of his skin, the pressure of not slowing Aranea down. It was thinking he had accomplished his goals, only to be captured on his journey home, on his way back to Noct. Surely, all of those things combined would make anyone want to cry. And if Noct was allowing him this moment of weakness, wasn't it easier to just take it? He would only be more miserable if he kept it inside, right?

Swallowing his pride, Prompto leaned his head against Noct's strong shoulder. Arms enveloped his tender frame in a hold that was secure, but intentionally cautious, like Noct knew he might hurt Prompto if he held him too tightly. Still, the embrace was warm and comforting; it was a safe place, something that Prompto hadn't ever found anywhere else in the world. Seconds later, the first sob echoed through the dingy room, and Noct rubbed Prompto's arms affectionately, his slender fingers sliding over cold, pale skin.

"I promise, you're safe now. He will never touch you again," the prince vowed. The words made Prompto sob louder, but he was thankful for the release, and for the safety of Noct's arms. Noct may not have known everything, but he knew enough for now. They'd never shared a moment like this before, but Prompto felt confident from the way Noct held him and whispered soothing words to him that he would stay with him. He would stay until he was rid of the very last of his tears.