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worth the wait

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The thing is, Prompto has wanted Noct for years, but he knows better than to think he's ever going to have him. When they were kids in high school and Noct had politely but firmly rejected yet another eager girl in their class, Prompto had asked why. (If he'd secretly hoped the answer would be because I only want you, he didn't let it show.) Noct had complained that he was destined for a political marriage, so relationships were strictly off-limits. Anyone I'm seen with would cause problems for Dad, he'd said. Apparently my virginity is a bargaining chip.

So Prompto's made his peace with it, given up on any youthful dreams of confessing his feelings and having them returned, and moved on with life. But Noct is still Noct, still gorgeous and kind and funny, and Prompto still wants him. He's a virile 20-year-old -- it's not like he can just turn off his hormones.

That's what he tells himself, anyway, as he takes advantage of a few moments of privacy in their shared tent to jerk off. Iggy is off hunting for ingredients for dinner, and Gladio and Noct are training, so Prompto has at least half an hour to himself. He flips through the pictures on his camera, mostly pictures of Noct, and indulges himself in idle fantasy. There's a photo of him leaning back on the hood of the Regalia in Hammerhead, lips pursed in annoyance. There's a candid shot of him fishing, biting his lip as he tries to reel in a big catch. Prompto stares at Noct's lips and imagines kissing him, free hand moving slowly over his dick. He flips through more pictures, letting himself fantasize about touching Noct, about Noct touching him, about Noct's breathy voice in his ear and Noct's hands on his body.

A photo comes up of Noct executing an aerial flip in practice with Gladio, and damn, his body is so powerful and flexible. He's the hottest thing Prompto has ever seen -- always has been. Prompto's hand speeds up as he flips to another photo, of Noct walking in front of him, the lines of his shoulderblades visible through his shirt, the curve of his ass tempting in his dark fatigues. If he could have Noct, he'd pull him close, get his hands on that ass, and grind Noct's hips into his own. Maybe Noct would roll his hips right back, mouthing at Prompto's neck, leaving his marks on Prompto's skin.

There are footsteps outside the tent in camp, but Prompto is so close, so fucking close, that he ignores them, squeezing his eyes shut and speeding his hand. He thinks about Noct licking the underside of his cock, meeting his eyes before taking it back into his mouth. He thinks about the way Noct's lips would look stretched out around him. He imagines it's Noct's hand instead of his own, that Noct is encouraging him, breathing come on in his ear, and that's enough to tip him over the edge, quietly moaning Noct's name.

It's stupid, to let himself, but it feels so good. It's not until he's cleaning up that he hears a noise in the tent and freezes.

Prompto doesn't have to look behind him to recognize the sound of Noct clearing his throat. "Were you, uh . . . thinking about me?"

He scrambles to get himself tucked back in his pants and turn around, kicking himself for being so far gone he didn't notice Noct coming into the tent behind him, burning with shame at being found out. And what is Noct playing at, asking that, anyway? It's not like nobody's walked in on Prompto jerking off before, it's a thing that happens when you spend time in such close quarters, but when you open the tent flap and see what's going on you're supposed to just mutter a quick apology and back off. You're definitely not supposed to come in.

"N-- Noct! I uh, didn't see you there, buddy."

"I know."

What the fuck is Prompto supposed to do with that? "Umm . . . I thought you were training with Gladio."

"Don't change the subject," Noct says, and Prompto notices for the first time that Noct's cheeks are flushed. If he's embarrassed, why the hell does he want to talk about . . . what are they even talking about anyway? "You said my name," Noct says, "and . . . your camera."

His camera? Prompto glances over at it. Oh. Sure enough, he's left his camera on with one of his favorite photos, of Noct shirtless and dripping wet after they'd been horsing around in a lake. Not so subtle.

"S-- Sorry," he says, unsure what else to say.

"It's okay." Noct fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "Just, um. Next time, I want to watch." And just like that, with Prompto's jaw on the floor, Noct backs out of the tent.


They don't talk about it. Noct acts like nothing's changed, so Prompto decides to just roll with it. Noct's going to marry Luna, and it's clear that he takes that seriously. The guys might tease him about not living up to his princely duties, but they've never had room to criticize his comportment in the matter of his wedding. Not even the fall of Insomnia made Noct waver from his commitment.

Well, other than asking to watch Prompto jerk off. But they're not talking about that, and it's not like they're . . . something. It's not like they could ever be something.


They settle in at a hotel in Lestallum and Gladio and Ignis go on a supply run, leaving Noct and Prompto playing King's Knight. They've only been gone for about fifteen minutes when Noct puts down his phone.

"Hey, you wanna, uh." Noct makes a crude hand gesture, and Prompto flushes. Apparently Noct does remember that conversation -- as much of a conversation as it had been -- and wants to follow up on it.

"I dunno, dude," Prompto says hesitantly. He's thought about it; of course he's thought about it, but only in an idle sort of way, when he's thinking about all sorts of other things that he knows he will never do. Still, reality is pretty far removed from his fantasies, and it's not like this is something Prompto's ever done before. The idea of doing it for real is scarier than he'd expected it to be.

"It's cool if you don't," Noct says, avoiding Prompto's eyes. "Or if you want privacy, you know. Whatever."

Prompto stares at his phone for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Noct, what is it that you want, here?" he settles on finally.

Noct sighs, rolling his shoulders to stretch them. "I'm just . . . You know I have to save myself for Luna. Sometimes that's easy, but sometimes it's hard. I walked in on you in the tent, and when I realized you were thinking about me . . . I liked it. I wanted more. Then I thought, if all I do is watch, that doesn't count, right?"

I liked it. I wanted more. What does that mean? Does that mean Noct has feelings for him? Does it mean he just has an ego the size of the Empire and likes to have people jerk off over him? Noct sounds hesitant, like he's a little afraid of what Prompto's going to say, and Prompto doesn't know what to do with that. Noct isn't asking him why he was looking at those photos, or why he was saying his name when he came. He's not asking if Prompto has feelings, or what he wants. On the one hand, of course he isn't, because it doesn't really matter if either of them has feelings for the other. Noct is marrying Luna, end of story. On the other hand, it kind of does matter.

Either way, Prompto would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't at least a little turned on by the idea of touching himself with Noct watching. "How do you want to do this?" he asks, which is easier than saying yes. It's just sex, right? Not even that. Prompto gave up his romantic feelings for Noct ages ago; there's no reason to think they're going to come back. At least, he hopes so.

"Yeah?" Noct sounds so eager it makes a shiver run down Prompto's spine. "Um, I can stay in this chair, and you can use the bed and just, uh, do your thing." Prompto doesn't move immediately, and Noct adds, "If it would be easier, I can go in the bathroom while you get started and come back in when you're not looking."

"Oh! Uh, no, that's okay, I'll just, uh." Prompto gestures vaguely, but gets up to move to the bed. Noct's eyes follow him the whole way. He climbs up onto the bed, then pauses. "Do you want me to lay down? Or . . . " He chances a glance at Noct, and finds Noct's cheeks flushed and eyes heated, and that's enough to overcome his nerves a little and let his cock start to fill. They're actually doing this. He's going to touch himself and the King of Lucis is going to watch. Noct is going to watch, and apparently, he's going to enjoy it, and that's exhilarating and terrifying.

"W-- Whatever you normally do," Noct says, his voice a little thick. "You can just . . . pretend I'm not here."

"I could never pretend you're not here," Prompto replies, but he sits at the top of the bed, leaning back onto the pillows. The nervous energy comes out in inane chatter, as it always does for him, and he says, "Sorry I can't really, like, put on a show, porn makes it look so easy, right? But it's not like I've ever-- I mean, I haven't, so."

"It's okay. If I wanted to watch porn I'd just watch porn."

"Yeah," Prompto says with a slight laugh, "I guess so. Okay, then, uh." He takes the plunge, closing his eyes and letting his hand slide down between his legs, cock jumping at the sudden heat of his hand. Noct draws in a sharp breath, and okay, yeah, that gets Prompto hard all the way real fast. He opens his eyes and Noct is leaning forward in his chair, watching him intently. Gods. Keeping eye contact is just too damn awkward though, so he closes his eyes again and starts rubbing himself for real.

The room is too quiet, and his own breath sounds loud in his ears, mixed with the quiet creak of the chair as Noct shifts his weight. Prompto stops and moves his hand to his fly, saying, "I'm gonna, uh. If that's okay." He steals a glance at Noct, and Noct nods, a sharp jerk of his head. His hands are firm on the arms of the chair, and wow, okay, there's definitely a bulge in Noct's pants, and knowing that he's turning Noct on like that is about the best feeling Prompto's ever had. He opens up his fly and reaches into his pants, getting his hand around his dick and squeezing. It's too hard to move, constrained by his underwear, so he lifts his hips up and shoves his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs.

His heart beats a little faster at being exposed before another another person for the first time; he thinks about taking his pants off all the way, but then realizes he's forgotten to take off his shoes. Noct had said to do what he normally does, though, and Prompto's usually in such a hurry that he doesn't take off any of his clothes. But what if his pants are in the way and Noct can't see? Should he take them off to give him a better view? He gives himself a couple strokes, then sits up to unlace his shoes.

He doesn't look at Noct while he's doing it, because he's having enough trouble getting his fingers to cooperate as it is. Once he's gotten his shoes and socks off, he goes ahead and kicks his pants off too. Then he realizes he's still wearing his shirt, and that's gotta look weird, right? Shirt and no pants? So he strips that off too before settling back and risking a peek at Noct, hoping that his naked body isn't too disappointing.

Prompto shouldn't have worried, because damn, Noct is really into this. He's gripping the arms of the chair like he's holding on for dear life, and he's pitching a truly impressive tent in his pants (gods, what Prompto wouldn't give to get his hands on that). Prompto licks his lips, then licks his palm, and starts touching himself again. Noct's breath is getting heavier, and it stokes the fire in Prompto's veins. He closes his eyes and listens to every hitch of Noct's breath as he jerks himself roughly, fast and tight. He's getting close, and he's sure he's flushed from the top of his head down to his nipples, because his fair skin has always shown a blush far too clearly.

Listening to his friend's rapid breathing, Prompto imagines Noct getting out of the chair and coming over to the bed, putting his hands on him, his mouth, and yeah, maybe he's starting to make some embarrassing sounds, but that's okay because Noct could have left at any time but he's still there. And maybe those sounds are starting to sound a little like Noct's name, nnn and ahh and Prompto bites down on his lip to try to keep quiet as he jerks his hips up into his hand, squeezing tighter, moving faster, until he tips over the edge and comes, suddenly glad he took his shirt off because he's shooting all the way up to his clavicle.

As soon as his heart stops beating out of his chest, Prompto opens his eyes to see Noct standing up out of the chair, cheeks flushed a dusky red, lips parted, eyes wild. Prompto lifts himself up onto his elbows, and Noct suddenly turns and walks into the bathroom. Before he can be too upset, Prompto hears the sound of Noct's back hitting the bathroom door, his zipper opening, and unmistakeable heavy breathing that builds rapidly to a ragged moan. Gods, Noct is getting off in the bathroom, because while maybe it doesn't count for him to watch Prompto, it sure as hell counts for Prompto to watch him.

By the time Noct comes back out, Prompto's dressed again, but still sitting on the edge of the bed. "So, um," Prompto says, "was that okay?"

Noct shoots him an unreadable look, then laughs. "Yeah," he says, "that was-- um. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

"Sure," Prompto says, "yeah, let's-- let's do that." Noct smiles at him, so Prompto smiles back, and somehow everything is still comfortable between them. This is okay, Prompto thinks. It's just sex. It's not even sex.


They do it again, a couple weeks later, the next time they're left alone in a hotel room, and it's a tiny bit less awkward. It's still just as good; Prompto comes almost as hard as the first time, and Noct has to hurry into the bathroom to get himself off afterward.

It becomes a thing. They don't talk about it, not unless they're actually doing it, but the rules are clear. No touching, no talking, and Noct keeps all his clothes on and doesn't touch himself in Prompto's presence. Prompto's not sure what to make of the mess of swirling emotions in his heart. It's not that he's unhappy with the situation -- it's good, it's the hottest thing he's ever done, and he doesn't want to stop. But he also wants Noct so badly, and having him so close but so far rankles.

Then, one day, Noct breaks the rules.

They're staying at Cape Caem, one last night before they'll get on a boat for Altissia. Iris has been traveling with them, and everyone has been on their best behavior to avoid anything inappropriate for her young ears. Iris is a nice kid, but Prompto's wound up really tight from even less privacy than usual.

So when Gladio takes Iris out to walk along the water, and Ignis decides to go experiment with new recipes, they're barely out of the room before Prompto is looking over at Noct, waiting to see whether he'll be interested. He shouldn't have wondered, because Noct is looking back at him with heat in his eyes. "Get on the bed," Noct says, and when Prompto scrambles to comply, Noct sits on the next bed over. It's much closer than he usually sits, but Prompto supposes the chairs are just too far on the other side of the room.

"Take off your clothes." Prompto's already getting hard as he does what Noct asks, trying not to think about what it means that Noct is suddenly giving him directions. Tomorrow they leave for Altissia, Noct's wedding, and an end to . . . whatever this is. Prompto's happy for Noct, he really is, and he knows Noct has been waiting to see Luna forever, but even though he has to give this up, he doesn't want to.

"Put your fingers in your mouth," Noct says, and Prompto glances up at him in surprise. Noct is watching him intently, fingers clutching the cloth of his fatigues over his knees. Prompto draws his hand up to his mouth and sucks two fingers in, wishing he was doing this to Noct instead of himself. "Get your whole hand wet." Noct's voice is rough with arousal, sending sparks down all of Prompto's nerves. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth and licks his palm, mouths at the base of his thumb, slides his tongue between his fingers. Noct's breath catches and quickens, and Prompto finds he can't wait to hear what Noct says next.

But Noct hesitates, and Prompto pauses, hand dripping wet. "What next?" he asks, when it's evident Noct needs a nudge.

Noct swallows. "Touch yourself," he breathes, and Prompto does. He wraps his wet hand around his dick and draws it from base to tip, sweat breaking out all over at the rush of having Noct so close while he does this. He can hear every one of Noct's breaths, every minute shift of his body making the sheets wrinkle. He's almost close enough to touch.

Prompto draws his knees up, giving himself leverage to roll his hips up into his fist. He's been waiting for this for days, and it's so easy to hurry things along, but Noct says, "Slow down, you're going too fast." Prompto maybe whines a little bit, but he does what Noct says, relaxing his legs and taking his hand off his cock for a minute to back off from the edge he'd been too close to. When he puts it back, he goes slower, fist curled more loosely. Noct says, "Yeah," and it's about the sexiest sound Prompto's ever heard.

Laying back against the pillows, Prompto lets his other hand run over his collarbone, then down his chest to toy with his nipples, imagining it's Noct's hand instead. He keeps stroking himself, slow and loose, and it's maddening and not at all enough. Noct is quiet, though, other than his breathing, and Prompto's not sure exactly what's allowed anymore. "Noct?" Noct draws in a sharp breath when Prompto says his name, and it makes Prompto's dick jump in his hand. "Can I . . . ?"

"Y-- Yeah, make your-- make your hand tighter." Prompto closes his hand and squeezes, and gods, he's so hard, and it feels so good. He wonders if Noct's hand would feel the same on him. Would Noct stroke him like this? Would he go faster? Slower? "What are you thinking about?" Noct asks breathlessly, and Prompto will never be tired of hearing that tone in Noct's voice, of knowing that he's the reason that Noct is so turned on.

"You," he replies, speeding his hand up a little and hoping that's allowed. "Thinking about your-- what your hand would be like." He takes a deep, shaky breath as his balls tighten up and his heart starts to race. "Wondering how you like to do this to yourself." Prompto knows he's got a flush spreading down from his cheeks, but he doesn't care. It's awkward to say these things out loud, but it's also good in a way he didn't really expect. He's quickly getting back to the brink, and hopes Noct isn't going to stop him again this time.

"Gods," Noct mutters, then, "Do it, I want-- Prompto, I want to see you--" That's all it takes for Prompto to start jerking himself in earnest, faster, tighter, hips rocking up until he loses track of Noct's breathing beneath the sound of his own gasps. He comes hard, knowing Noct is watching, knowing Noct wants this.

Prompto looks at Noct when he's aware enough to hear Noct cursing, and realizes there's no ensuite bathroom in their room. Noct's face twists into a conflicted grimace, then he turns around on the bed so his back is to Prompto, and starts getting his pants open. Prompto's breath catches; he's not supposed to watch. He knows he's not supposed to watch. He's not supposed to see Noct touching himself, but he can't look away. Noct's back may be to him but he can still see his arm working, the line of his neck as he tips his head back, one hand behind him on the bed to hold himself up. And without a wall between them, the sounds Noct is making are so much louder, an escalation of ahh, ahh, ahh-- until he comes with a strangled moan.

Prompto quickly looks away, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He starts cleaning up, carefully avoiding glancing at Noct. When he's done, he leaves a box of tissues on the table next to Noct's bed, then turns his back again. After a while, he hears Noct moving, taking the tissues and cleaning himself up.

"You can look now," Noct says eventually, and Prompto turns around. Noct is sitting on the bed, face still flushed but otherwise put together. "Sorry. I-- I'm sorry."

"For what?" Prompto asks, though he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"That I have to-- that I can't--" He looks down at his hands. "We're going to Altissia tomorrow," he says instead.

"Yeah." There's a long silence, during which Prompto thinks of about a million things to say and says none of them. Finally, he says, "I'm glad you're gonna get to see Lady Lunafreya."

Noct looks relieved, and Prompto's heart aches a little. "Me too."