Chapter 1

Shipwreck

"You'll bleed from this…"

Noct's living room was the usual shipwreck; pizza boxes lying opened on the coffee table with half-eaten slices turning cold on corrugated cardboards, empty soda cans rolling around the floor, some still spilling sweetened carbonated liquid onto the dark plush carpet, torn-open bags of chips and whatever else carelessly thrown onto the sofa, scattering crumbs everywhere.

It was the usual shipwreck on a Friday gaming night, alright.

Except that the whole damn apartment had become eerily quiet. It was so damn quiet Prompto could actually hear his own slightly ragged breathing.

He swallowed, pulling at his already loose school tie for the hundredth time. He grabbed at his black school blazer lying crumpled on the carpet, half-hidden underneath the coffee table, picking it up for a second like he was going to put it on before dropping it back to the floor again. He unrolled the sleeves of his school shirt before rolling them back up his trembling arms. He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair several times.

Shit, he couldn't stay still.

Maybe he shouldn't have shut off the TV. Maybe he should've left that King's Knight main theme blaring in the background because dammit the silence was making him nervous now. So damn nervous.

He fidgeted as he sat on his knees in the narrow space between the sofa and the coffee table, staring unseeing at the cold leftover pizzas. His head was starting to spin a little, his skin strangely warm and tingling, his vision getting blurry around the edges. He felt like something inside of him had gone off-kilter. He couldn't think straight anymore.

His thoughts kept crisscrossing one another, some coherent, some not so much, and when he thought his mind was getting too muddled to function properly, it suddenly cleared up and he'd be aware of what was going on again. It felt like… like he was drunk. But he didn't think he was drunk, not that he knew what being drunk felt like. The good underage kid he was, he'd never sipped a beer or anything. He was careful not to get himself into trouble. But something was definitely not right with him right now.

It was strange. His mind was getting in and out of focus rapidly like a camera trying and failing to focus on a subject that was too close. It was making his head hurt. And there was a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Did he eat something funny?

He eyed the pizzas, the chips, the sodas. He tried hard to remember the things he had shoveled into his mouth for the past four hours while he and Noct lazed around playing video games. They were the usual things he'd eat on a gaming night like this, although some of the junk food stuff were new—flavour and brand wise. Like that stupidly named Peas Toll pea-flavoured potato chips. He had brought that one over especially for Noct since he loved the equally stupidly named To-me-too tomato-flavoured chips Prompto had brought over last Friday. They were probably the only vegetable-related things Noct would dare put in his mouth voluntarily. He was surprised Noct actually liked that stuff.

He heaved suddenly, feeling bile almost bursting up his throat when his stomach made a sudden disgusting movement that sent shivers up and down his body.

Shit.

This was bad. He knew stuffing all those unhealthy food wasn't going to do him any good but this was beyond awful. He didn't think they'd make him this ill. He swore he'd never bring anymore stupidly named junk food over for gaming night ever again.

Prompto rubbed his eyes before wiping his sweaty face with shaking hands. His face was warm. His whole body was warm. He wasn't sure but it felt like he was going to have a fever. It made no sense, though. He was feeling perfectly fine up until just now. Until he switched off the TV. Until he'd decided it was time to do it. To do the thing he had been dreading to do since yesterday.

He shook his head to clear his mind.

No. This was not the time to feel ill or disoriented or whatever. This was definitely not the time.

He shifted uncomfortably on his knees, glancing at Noct who was stretched out lying face down along the length of the sofa next to him, his hair a mop of unruly dark mess spread over the pillow he was lying on, his eyes cloudy and half-lidded. He looked like he was halfway to sleep but Prompto knew he was still awake, quietly watching him.

Noct's silence and lack of movement was making him even more nervous. He wasn't sure why but Noct looked like he was suddenly weakened and paralyzed, lying limp and unmoving like that.

But maybe it was for the best that he was in that state. It would make Prompto's job a lot easier.

He took in a very deep breath.

I can do this. Just… get it over with.

He straightened up slowly, getting to his feet. Without a word, he grabbed Noct's arms by the wrists, pulling and crossing them together behind his back. He ignored Noct's little muffled gasp, and when he felt Noct's arms tensing trying to fight against him, he squeezed his wrists hard without thinking.

"Don't resist," Prompto said, pressing Noct's crossed wrists into his lower back.

Noct turned to look at him but his eyes were covered by his hair. Good. Prompto didn't want to see the look in those dark blue eyes. It'd just make it harder for him to carry out his task. Noct moved his captured hands suddenly, making Prompto tighten his hold on them in reflex.

"Fuck, Noct," Prompto hissed. "Stay still, dammit."

He got down again and fumbled around underneath the coffee table with one hand, sliding it underneath his crumpled blazer and almost gasped at the coolness of the thing he was looking for. He grabbed the pair of black handcuffs lying there before quickly and clumsily placing them around Noct's wrists with trembling hands. With a push and a click, Prompto had Noct's arms locked behind his back.

He slumped back into that narrow space, leaning against the edge of the coffee table, letting out a shuddering breath.

He did it. He fucking did it.

He successfully had Noct restrained, but unfortunately, this was not the end of his task. It was only the beginning. How he wished this was all he had to do. And how he wished his head would just stop spinning. His headache was getting worse now, throbbing like a bitch.

Prompto pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, his long sigh turning into a low frustrated growl.

Noct shifted, his movement awkward with his arms restrained. He blinked up at Prompto, his face suddenly so pale, his eyes glazing.

"Prompto…" Noct finally broke his silence. He didn't sound so good himself.

Prompto glanced at him, swallowing the lump that was growing in his throat.

No, he didn't need to feel guilty. He did what he had to do. It was an order, an order he had to carry out. But his chest was tightening, clenching. It was getting a little hard to breathe. Dammit, he needed to calm down. This was not the time to be panicking.

He grabbed the half-empty soda sitting on the coffee table, red and ridiculous with the words Down Me! splattered across the can. It was another one of those new brands of junk he'd decided to try out and brought over to Noct's place that night.

He took a couple of gulps, not really savouring the sweet but tangy, spicy taste of the drink. Honestly, it tasted weird. He'd never drunk anything that tasted like that before; it had a slight disgusting aftertaste that reminded him of cigarettes, the smell of diesel and some other unpleasant shit, but the sweet-spiciness was not too bad, really. Enough to make him want to continue drinking the soda, anyway. Noct seemed to really like it too, seeing how many cans he had downed Down Me! that night.

Seriously. What a fucking stupid name.

"Prompto…" Noct said again, his pleading tone pulling Prompto out of his thoughts about the disgusting soda.

His mind continued to whirl as he stared at Noct who was trying to shift his body to lie on his side. Prompto got up and started hauling Noct so he was sitting slumped on the sofa. He grabbed his soda and shoved it in Noct's pale face.

"Drink. You like this stuff, right?" he said, his words stumbling into each other. "Your dry lips are cracking."

Noct stared at him, a frown appearing in between his eyebrows. "What? No, Prompto—"

Prompto lifted Noct's chin and pressed the can to his mouth, forcing him to take a few gulps of the soda. Noct struggled to pull his face away but Prompto's hand stayed him where he was and he was unable to shake the can that was being firmly pressed to his lips. He had no choice but to give in as he leaned back weakly into the sofa, trickles of spilled soda running down his throat. Prompto finally let him go when the can was almost empty.

Noct sputtered, coughing out soda as he tried to wipe his face with his shoulder.

"Prompto, please! You—"

He fell silent when Prompto picked up the retractable knife that had been lying on the coffee table all night, the tack-tack-tack sound it made echoing in the quiet living room as Prompto pushed the blade out slowly. He pressed the sharp end of the blade into a pizza box and pulled it hard in a straight line, making a cut in the cardboard.

"This thing's really sharp, you know…" he said, his gaze shifting from the blade to Noct, whose eyes were locked on the knife.

He got onto the sofa, sitting uncomfortably as he placed his trembling, uncertain hands on Noct's shoulders, sliding them down to his chest before undoing the buttons of his school shirt, exposing pale skin underneath. He picked up the knife again and brought it close, pushing more of the blade out.

"You'll bleed from this…" Prompto whispered almost to himself, his voice shaking as much as his hands.

He stopped pushing out the blade abruptly when he thought he heard the soft ding of the elevator down the hallway outside and a ghost of the sound of its doors opening and closing. He glanced nervously in the direction of the apartment entrance.

Was someone coming?

No. That's just your imagination, Prompto.

He'd been to Noct's apartment plenty of times for the past one and a half years and he'd never once heard the ding of the elevator while he was in here. He didn't think the sound would travel that far and through the thick walls, anyway. So why did he think he heard the ding?

Prompto shook his head again, trying to stop himself from imagining things, from scaring himself.

His grip on the retractable knife tightened when there was suddenly a series of violent throbs in his chest that lasted a few seconds, like his heart had gone out of control, making him gasp in pain and surprise.

Something was really wrong with him. Why did his body decide this was the best time to mess with him, getting headaches and heart palpitations and whatever shit? Worst timing ever. This whole thing was obviously not good for him. He should just get this over with quickly.

Prompto forced his somewhat blurry vision to focus as he pulled Noct's shirt off one shoulder and brought up the blade against the upper side of his right chest. He ignored the imagined sound of footsteps approaching the front door, screaming internally at himself to shut the hell up and just concentrate on what he had to do. He totally did not need the added anxiety.

He glanced up at Noct who was still watching him silently, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazing even more now as he lay slumped against the sofa. Prompto pulled back with a start when he thought he saw Noct's eyes glowed a dark shade of violet, and then everything that took place in the next few minutes happened in a flash.

There was a beep coming from the entrance of the apartment, the tell-tale sign of someone accessing the front door.

Before Prompto could drop the knife and turn around to start panicking, Gladio had strolled into the messy living room, his cool, friendly eyes quickly widening in shock and fear when he saw Noct sitting weakened on the sofa with his hands cuffed behind his back and his shirt opened while Prompto hovered in front of him holding a knife to his chest.

"What the fuck— Prompto you sonovabitch!"

It all happened so fast. Prompto let out a loud gasp of pain, the wind knocked out of him when Gladio punched him right in the face, sending him crashing head-first into the coffee table. He was barely registering what was happening when Gladio had him in a headlock, choking him. Gladio then crushed his wrist hard enough for him to drop the knife he didn't realize he was still holding before twisting his arm painfully behind his back.

"Gladio— I can explain!" Prompto yelled.

Gladio didn't pay any attention to what he was saying as he pushed Prompto face-first onto the floor and kneed him sharply in the back, all the while keeping his arm twisted behind his back before pinning his other hand firmly to the floor.

"I can explain!" Prompto yelled again, hardly able to breathe. "Gladio—"

This was useless. Gladio wouldn't listen to him. He turned desperately in Noct's direction.

"Noct, please! Tell Gladio to—"

His eyes widened when he saw Noct slowly sliding to his side, oblivious to what was happening around him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before his lids shut close.

"Noct? Noct!" Prompto yelled in panic. He struggled uselessly against Gladio's hold trying to get to Noct. Why was he passing out like that? That wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't do anything to Noct to make him go out like that.

"Gladio! Please—"

Gladio's only response to his pleading was him twisting both of Prompto's arms behind his back and pulling them painfully up in between his shoulder blades. He pinned them there with just one huge hand while his other hand grabbed a fistful of Prompto's blond locks, pulling his head back roughly.

"What the fuck were you gonna do to Noct, you bastard?!" Gladio roared, pulling Prompto's head even further back, ignoring his pained cries.

Prompto wanted to give him an answer, he really did, but all that came out of his mouth was a series of ragged breaths. It hurt being crushed by a man as huge as Gladio, but that wasn't really the reason his breath was hitching. Something was wrong with him, internally. All of that wrongness he'd been feeling since a while ago had suddenly come to a head. The constant throbbing behind his eyes had gone full-throttle, the world was starting to tilt and shake dangerously, his vision was cracking, breaking, and then it was rapidly darkening.

"Gladio… Noct, he…" Prompto struggled weakly. He tried to throw Gladio off him but it was like trying to dislodge a mountain.

"What the— Noct! Hey—"

He heard Gladio's thunderous voice booming above him as he finally noticed Noct passing out. Prompto glanced up in Noct's direction again. He was lying on the sofa, unconscious. Gladio was no longer on top of him, so Prompto tried to move but his body suddenly felt so heavy, like the blood in his veins had turned to lead. He was slipping. Sliding, falling. He could feel his consciousness fading.

"Gladio… I can explain…" Prompto mumbled again, no longer able to move. Dammit… it wasn't supposed to be this way. This whole night was a fucking shipwreck.

Prompto fought to keep his eyes opened but it was as if there were weights hanging from his eyelids. He looked up at Noct one last time, his pale face and limp figure swirling through his failing sight before his eyes closed and he was cut off from the chaotic world.

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Next chapter:

Nonsense

"Alright, let him sleep."

Author's Note

22 October 2021

I honestly don't know how to describe this story.

I started writing it more than half a year ago and halfway through, I stopped and left it forgotten in my drafts folder. Then, a few months back I found it again and decided to just finish the whole thing even though I didn't really remember why I started writing it or what the second half of the story should be. So yeah. I just wanted to finish it so that I can archive it here. I have about eighty-five percent of the story written and I think the story is kinda... wack?

Anyway, thank you so much for reading :) Stay safe and take care!