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Forgive Me My Weakness

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The first time Noct grabs Prompto's wrists, Prompto's entire body tenses up.

"Hey, relax," Noct says, smiling lazily down at him, and he lets go right away to stroke Prompto's cheek. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous."

Prompto's not nervous - he doesn't think - but he pulls Noct down to kiss him anyway, his hands roaming over Noct's body as Noct rides him. He does relax again, but he's thinking of Noct's hands on his wrists, Noct's weight holding him down.




Prompto always expected Gladio to like it kind of rough, but it turns out he fucks like he's in one of his romance novels, face to face and tender and slow. When Prompto dives into bed, that first time, facedown on the mattress with his legs spread, Gladio frowns and flips him over.

"You don't have to do that," he says, and he encourages Prompto to wrap his legs around his waist, kisses him deeply, looks into his eyes. And it's great. It really is, Prompto can't stop smiling for hours afterwards, but he keeps imagining Gladio folding him in half and pounding him into the mattress. 




Ignis is composed in bed, just like everywhere. He's knuckles deep in Prompto's ass, slow and careful as he drags his fingertips in and out, making Prompto whine with every thrust, and he says, "It's like you were made for this."

Prompto stops breathing, and his hips jerk back and drive Ignis's fingers deeper into him. Ignis stops, pulls back, wipes his slippery fingers on the sheets.

"I'm sorry, Prompto. I got carried away," he says, all flustered, his cheeks flushing.

"You guys have got to stop apologizing," Prompto groans.

Ignis rolls them over then and pulls Prompto down to ride him, but he looks thoughtful, under the blush.




Prompto should not be restless, he thinks. He's spending his days traveling and his nights fighting daemons and having more sex than he ever expected to have in his life, and he's amazed he has any energy left to feel fidgety, or twitchy, or.

Or like he wants somebody to bite him. Weird thought. Super weird. Wants somebody to bite him and hold him down, so he's got something to struggle against. Wants to feel nails scratching down his back. Wants somebody to choke him with - fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. He doesn't know if this is normal. Doesn't want to ask. Maybe people don't ever feel like this, not real ones. Maybe this is like how he always catches himself following Ardyn like a well trained dog. MTs are supposed to obey humans, maybe this is his programming catching up with his life.

He's lucky that Noct and Iggy and Gladio even want to touch him. He can't ask for this.

But no matter what he does, even when the other three - the normal people - are sated and sleeping after they're all fucked out, he can't stop feeling like he wants more.




They're driving, of course, after one of those nights. Prompto didn't get any sleep, and he's almost as drowsy as Noct, but he's trying to keep up appearances, so he's snapping photos of scenery out the window, and occasionally of Noct napping with his head on Gladio's thigh.

He's flicking quietly through the photos, getting rid of the blurry ones and the ones where Noct's drooling (well, okay, he kept one of those), when Noct's hand slides down over his collarbone. Prompto nearly jumps out of his skin.

Noct curses quietly, and then, "Sorry," he says. He pulls away; he'd just been trying to get a look over Prompto's shoulder at the pictures. Prompto wants to scream.

"Yeah, it's fine," Prompto tells him. His hand goes up to his neck without thinking. He's got goosebumps, and his own grip, though it's hard enough dig his nails into the skin, is nothing compared to the fire that the barest brush of Noct's hand sent through him.

"Noct," Ignis says. He's looking at Noct in the rearview mirror, Prompto realizes. Looking between Noct and Prompto. Prompto feels his face get hot, and he tries to think of an explanation for his reaction.

"I think you've left Prompto unsatisfied."

"Hey, whoa, what?" Prompto says a little too loudly. "I'm fine, Iggy."

Ignis doesn't look at him, but he raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"You don't sound fine," Gladio offers.

Prompto laughs. "Why wouldn’t I be?" Gladio is right, he does not sound fine.

Noct, because he is a jerk, leans forward and puts his hand on Prompto's neck again. This should not be enough to set him off like this; Noct's barely even applying pressure. He's possibly insane. And yet. Prompto lets his head slam back against the seat.

"Did we not pay enough attention to you last night?" Noct asks. "I know you came twice."

"You were counting?"

"I asked him to make sure you were feeling included," Ignis says. "That wasn't exactly what I meant, but…" he glances briefly at Prompto, frowns, and shrugs.

"What? You guys," Prompto protests, extremely weakly.

"You're jumpy lately," Gladio says. “Specs worries."

Noct leans around the headrest, his fingers curling lightly around Prompto's throat. Prompto can't tell if it's deliberate. "So what are we missing?"

Prompto thinks, I won’t get another chance, but nothing useful comes out of his mouth. He shakes his head, and Noct’s grip starts to withdraw. Prompto lets out a breath, which turns into a whimper, and Ignis gives him another sideways glance, but no one says anything.




They camp that night, and for the three nights after, and it’s pretty much back to normal, except that every time anyone touches Prompto unexpectedly, he tenses up so much that they apologize and let go. The four of them are pretty touchy by habit, so it happens more often than Prompto thinks it should. If he could just relax and go with it, things would be fine. But instead he’s screwing up not only his own sex life, but everybody else’s, too.

And he’s starting to get weird ideas about Ignis’s knives.

And he thinks Ignis might be starting to get weird ideas about Ignis’s knives, but they’re the kind where Ignis looks at him in sympathy and puts them away every time he catches Prompto staring, so that’s not a lot of help.

If they could just fuck already he might not be so keyed up. They don’t do that much when they’re out in the open, though. Gladio sucked Prompto off, once, pushed up against a tree not far from the haven. Sometimes Prompto and Noct exchange handjobs, more furtive than they really have to be in their sleeping bags. But that’s about it. And there hasn’t even been any of that in the last week.

Prompto knows the others pair off sometimes, too. For all he knows they’re all getting quickies in every time he goes out running. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea if he tries to start anything, though. Everybody’s constantly looking at him like he might break.

Kinda dumb of them. He’s obviously already broken.




By the end of the week, the urge to claw his own skin off is starting to fade. He’s not exactly better but it’s not so immediate, and he’s almost forgotten how much it hurts when he almost gets what he wants.

Until Noct demands a hotel room that night, a single hotel room, with two big beds. Not out of bounds at all, certainly not something they haven’t done before. But right now, it feels like kind of a lot to Prompto.

He takes too long in the shower dithering about maybe jerking off to calm down. In the end, he doesn’t have time to try it anyway. And he swears, the second he comes out of the bathroom, all the rest of them are just staring at him.

He hopes at first that it’s just a new and exciting manifestation of anxiety, but no. They actually are staring at him. Noct and Gladio are on one of the beds, and Ignis sits in the chair between the two; Noct has his phone in his hand, but they’re all watching Prompto as he wrings his hair out.

He drapes the towel over his shoulders and tries to act casual. “So, guys. What are we trying tonight?”

Usually that gets at least a considering look from Noct, and maybe a smile from Gladio. Tonight, Ignis seems to be in charge. “We had hoped that you might tell us.” Straight to the point, of course. Thanks, Iggy.

Prompto laughs. “Me? You know me. I’m up for whatever.”

“Yeah, we know that,” Gladio says. “We thought we’d ask anyway.”

Prompto shrugs and moves to the other bed to flop down and look at the ceiling, which is easier than looking at them. “I didn’t have anything in mind,” he lies.

Noct puts his phone down, stands up, and crosses the small gap between the beds to look down at Prompto. He looks very, very serious. Prompto takes one glance at him and forgets how to make eye contact.


Prompto can’t figure out what Noct wants him to say, so he doesn’t. Noct takes a deep breath.

“Did we do something to hurt you?” he asks, and his voice nearly cracks.

Prompto sits up and reaches out for Noct, but stops short of actually touching him. “What? No! No, of course not, Noct.”

Noct takes Prompto’s hand in both of his. Prompto’s ready for it, so he doesn’t flinch, nor does he whine as Noct gently circles his fingers around his wrist. But only barely. “Then tell me what’s up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and usually Noct lets him get away with lies like that, but this time he frowns and doesn’t let Prompto go.

Ignis is beside him, very suddenly. Prompto thinks he should’ve noticed that happening. He thinks that normal people don’t usually jump when their boyfriends put their hands on their shoulders. But here he is. Twitching like a cut off nagarani head.

Despite the twitching, Ignis doesn’t let him go. His hands are bare. Not like he never takes the gloves off, but his hands are softer than Noct’s or Gladio’s, and his skin is very, very warm against Prompto’s. He moves his hand slowly, and deliberately, until his fingers are wrapped around Prompto’s throat.

“Perhaps you can tell me why this is making you blush,” he says.

“W-what? It’s - it’s a lot of attention,” Prompto stammers. It’s not a lie, it’s just the easiest part of the truth. “I’m okay. I don’t - it’s fine.”

“If you keep telling us that, eventually we’re gonna stop asking.” Gladio comes around to Prompto’s other side, and he sits on the bed sideways, one leg up behind Prompto’s back. He wonders if they coordinated this attack. He feels trapped, and that almost makes him relax. “And if we stop asking, it’s not gonna get fixed.”

Prompto shakes his head, and swallows. Ignis’s fingers tighten a little. “It’s fine. You guys didn’t do anything.” There was nothing to be done. At least not by the time they got to him.

“Did somebody else?” Noct asks, just as serious as before, but this time instead of his voice sounding shaky it’s almost a growl.

No,” Prompto says. “I didn’t get… no.” Not like Noct means, he’s sure.

Noct looks relieved. “Can we try something, then?” he asks, still careful.

“Uh.” Prompto can’t tell if his dreams or his nightmares are about to come true. But he trusts Noct, of course he does. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

“Give me your other hand,” Noct says.

Prompto lifts up his hand, and Noct shifts his grip and steps a little closer so he can hold Prompto by both wrists. Gladio’s hands slide under Prompto’s shirt, up his back and over his stomach. Prompto feels every hair on his body stand up.

“If you want us to stop,” Ignis says in his ear, “just say so.”

Noct’s standing between Prompto’s legs now, and Ignis has both hands around his neck and his thigh pressed up against Prompto’s. Gladio is a warm, solid weight against Prompto’s entire right side. Prompto hasn’t felt so secure in literal years. Possibly ever. He shakes his head. “Don’t stop. Please.”

“Looks like you were right, Iggy,” Gladio says.

Ignis has the grace to say, “A simple extrapolation, nothing more.”

Noct, thank all the gods, is just as impatient as Prompto, but has more nerve. “Let’s do it, then,” he says, fixing Prompto with a look like he’s the last pastry on one of Ignis’s dessert plates. Prompto has just enough time to be both warmed and scared before all three of them move at once.

Gladio shifts out of the way as Ignis pulls Prompto down to the mattress, almost fast enough to choke him. Noct keeps one knee between Prompto’s legs, and puts one on the bed, and drops down above Prompto still holding his wrists. It’s awkward; there’s a lot of limbs. But it ends with Prompto trapped under Noct’s body and between Ignis and Gladio, his head thrown back instinctively, his hands slack in Noct’s grip.

He’s almost afraid to move, in case they let him go. But he just has to know. He pushes a little bit against Noct. Noct’s mouth is open and he’s breathing hard, and he says, “hey,” when Prompto tries to struggle. He doesn’t let go. Prompto’s hips roll against Noct’s thigh and he moans, and then feels the blush spread down to his chest.

“Well, shit,” Gladio says. “That explains a few things.” And he grabs a handful of Prompto’s hair and pulls hard.

There is no way, absolutely no way in any world that Prompto could hold back the whine that escapes him as Gladio bends down and kisses him. And, yeah, Gladio is a romantic. He always kisses like he means it. Just, now, for the first time Prompto remembers, he’s using teeth along with the tongue. He nips at Prompto’s lower lip gently, and then when Prompto’s back arches off the bed, he bites down hard.

Prompto yelps and grinds against Noct again. Gladio licks the bruise as he pulls away, and he searches Prompto’s face for something. Whatever it is he must find it, because he reaches out to run his hand up Prompto’s stomach under his shirt, finds his nipple, and pinches. Prompto whines and arches into the touch. How did they know, he wants to ask, but then Gladio leans down and bites his nipple through the fabric and Prompto nearly throws himself off the bed with the force of his reaction.

“Hey. Ignis. Hold him,” Noct says, and Prompto’s left wrist is passed off. Noct looks serious, and determined, and also completely out of his mind turned on. His eyes are practically black and he keeps licking his lips and looking up and down Prompto’s prone body. Prompto squirms under the attention, but Noct looks so hungry that he can’t really be self conscious, even when Noct’s gaze lingers on the now-obvious tent in his shorts.

Noct’s fingers join Gladio’s under Prompto’s shirt. He traces up his ribs gentle enough to tickle, and then drags his nails down. Prompto makes a strangled noise when he gets to the waistband of his boxers. He pauses there for a minute, long enough that Prompto starts to wonder if he’s done something wrong. He blinks his eyes back open and sees Ignis nodding and then smiling down at him.

It doesn’t take long at all for Gladio to pull Prompto’s shirt off, and even less for Noct to take his boxers. Prompto barely has time to adjust to being naked before he’s flipped over - Ignis and Gladio together make quick work of that - and dragged fully onto the bed. His face is pressed into the duvet. He thinks it’s Ignis who has the grip on his hair now, and the hold on his wrists, locked behind his back. His shoulders shudder and his hands clench into fists as he tries to work through the shivers running down his spine.

“Now now,” Ignis says right in his ear. “Be a good boy and hold still.” Prompto can hear the smile, feel the warmth of breath on his ear, and he lets out a shaky breath and nods a little. Ignis rewards him with a nip at his earlobe. It only makes Prompto shiver more.

He hears a brief shuffle of fabric and there’s a weight at his side, and Noct's delicate, strong hands sliding up his thighs and over his ass. Prompto shifts and presses back into the touch as much as he can, and then rocks forward to get a little friction on his now exposed cock.

“You okay, Prom?” Noct asks.

“Yeah,” Prompto tries to answer, but his voice comes out breathy. “‘M good.”

“If you want us to stop…”

“Noct.” Prompto swallows and licks his lips to make sure this comes out very clearly. “If you stop I’m gonna snap.”

That gets a quiet laugh from Gladio and Noct both. Prompto’s stomach flips and he struggles, a little, in Ignis’s grip. He thinks Ignis might have let him loose, but Noct slaps him across the ass.

The crack of flesh on flesh is loud, but not as loud to Prompto’s ears as his heavy breathing afterwards. He stops struggling but tries to bury his face deeper in the duvet. Ignis pulls his hair so hard that his whole chest comes off the bed, and he gasps at the sudden rush of cool air.

“Do you want him to do that again?” Ignis asks, low and rough.

“Yeah. Yes. Please,” Prompto says.

Ignis kisses him first, leaning down and dragging him so that Prompto can’t move at all, just has to hang there and take it. Fuck, it feels good. Feels right. Ignis releases his lips and Noct’s hand comes down on Prompto’s ass again.

Prompto groans, Ignis drops him back down, and Noct keeps doing it, three strikes and then five and ten and fifteen. He’s not steady, but it doesn’t matter, by the time he stops Prompto’s lost count and he’s keening into the mattress. Noct doesn’t pull away. Instead he keeps stroking Prompto’s ass, massaging the hurt away, until Prompto’s breath hitches and he can’t help rutting against the sheets.

“Gladio,” Noct says, and Gladio says, “Yeah, here,” and Prompto hears the click of a bottle cap. Ignis’s thumb traces over his cheekbone as Noct spreads his legs.

Prompto tenses when he feels Noct’s lube-slick fingers between his cheeks. It’s not that this has ever hurt before. He just wants it to. He doesn’t know how to communicate that to Noct, though, and Noct’s searching fingers pause.

If this goes almost the way he wants one more time he really will snap. He groans and rocks back with the few inches of leeway he has, trying to get Noct’s fingers inside him. He hears Noct hiss a quiet curse.

“Noct, please,” he whines. “I won’t break.”

“Might break me,” Noct mutters. But he finds his target and Prompto sighs at the stretch, two fingers quickly replaced by three as Noct gets the bare minimum amount of lube into him. Soon Prompto’s hips are lifted off the bed, and he awkwardly gets his knees under him just in time for Noct to grab him and drive into him in one sharp thrust. Prompto moans and he’d be hideously embarrassed except that Noct does too.

Noct wastes no time once he’s inside Prompto. He pulls back and starts up a steady rhythm, gentle at first but then harder as Prompto pushes back against him. Every thrust tears a whine out of Prompto’s throat. He feels floaty, like he’s under the influence of some peaceful status effect. When he’d let himself daydream about something like this, he thought he’d come too fast. Now there’s too much going on for orgasm to even be a possibility.

“Iggy, help me out here,” Gladio says quietly. Ignis shifts and helps Gladio pick Prompto’s head up, and gets him settled in between Gladio’s thighs. Gladio holds his shoulders up while Prompto grapples with the stress on his spine and the new angle of Noct’s thrusts. He keeps his hands behind his back, even when Ignis releases him, and when his eyes uncross, he nuzzles the head of Gladio’s cock with his cheek.

Prompto loves giving head, and he knows he’s good at it. It’s of the few things he’s been able to practice giving without anyone ever telling him to stop. Still, at this angle, with little ability to control his own movements, he takes it slow: he looks up at Gladio while he dips his head a little and takes him in his mouth.

He has just enough height to see Gladio’s eyes widen as he closes his lips. “Yeah, good,” Gladio groans. “Go deeper.”

Prompto dips his head, laving his tongue up the underside of Gladio’s shaft, letting the salt taste fill his mouth. Noct - because he is a jerk - takes this moment to pull back slowly and drive into Prompto hard. The momentum shoves him forward until Gladio hits the back of his throat. He whimpers and cuts himself off.

Suddenly, Ignis’s hand is warm on the small of Prompto’s back. Somehow the touch is grounding, even as it makes him arch even more sharply to let Noct drive into him. Prompto can’t turn his head with Gladio filling his mouth and Ignis takes full advantage, teasing him with small touches on his ribs and the back of his neck, dragging nails up his stomach, and finally, wrapping his hand around Prompto’s throat once more.

“You don’t have to fight,” Ignis says into his ear. “You’re beautiful like this. Let us hear.”

Prompto closes his eyes and the next time Noct drives into him, he lets the moan rise out of his throat and around Gladio’s cock. Gladio grunts and shoves Prompto’s head down until his nose is nearly buried in pubic hair. He chokes and drools as he tries to swallow, his body shaking, and that’s when Noct’s steady thrusts start to stutter. Prompto feels the sudden wet heat inside him as Noct lets out a strangled cry and falls forward onto Prompto’s back.

As Noct shudders, Gladio grips Prompto’s head in both hands, almost gently, and pulls him off his cock. Prompto sucks for as long as he can before his lips pop off the head. He licks his lips and looks up at Gladio pleadingly.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Gladio growls. When he lets go, Prompto drops his head  and feels the blush spread back up his cheeks. Ridiculous for him to get shy now but the way Gladio sounded…

Noct rolls off of him, too, leaving Prompto shivering and feeling empty. It’s not long before there’s hands on his shoulders again, though, flipping him onto his back. He ends nestled against Ignis’s chest with his legs splayed open. Ignis is still fully clothed, though Prompto can feel his cock jutting into the base of his spine. Prompto feels so exposed right now that the contrast is enough to make him shiver.

Gladio crawls toward him with purpose, and if Prompto felt exposed before, he has no word for what he feels like when Gladio picks his legs up and pushes his thighs to his chest. He meets Gladio’s eyes and knows he must look scared, so he blinks and tries to take in a breath. Gladio laughs.

“You think I’m going to tell you this won’t hurt, right?” he says. “Nah. I’d be lying.”

Prompto lets out an entirely involuntary whine, closes his eyes, and says, “Don’t tease me.”

He’s barely got the last word out when Gladio pushes his legs even farther up and sheathes himself. Prompto’s already sore and slippery from Noct, not minutes before; he moans and throws his head back onto Ignis’s shoulder. Even that sounds deeper and rougher than it should with his throat bruised.

Ignis whispers encouragement in his ear, and soon he’s all but screaming, only the constant jolting as Gladio thrusts into his body keeping his noises from becoming a full blown cry. Gladio hooks one of his knees over his shoulder, and Ignis takes the other and spreads his legs further; as Prompto’s toes curl Noct crawls back over to them, leaning over Prompto’s chest to kiss him and swallow his sounds.

Noct’s still a little hesitant, but his teeth graze Prompto’s lower lip gently in between deeper kisses, and he reaches down between Prompto and Gladio to take Prompto firmly in hand. He jerks Prompto off roughly and without any kind of finesse, his other hand tangled in Prompto’s hair. With Noct guiding him, and Ignis pressing kisses up his shoulder and nibbling on his ear, and Gladio still driving into him like he means to break him in two, Prompto comes with a sob and keeps coming until he sees stars and the edges of his vision go black. His world narrows down to Noct’s hand and his blue eyes and Gladio’s body and Ignis’s mouth.

Gladio doesn’t even pause, and Prompto goes slack against Ignis, unable to do anything more than ride it out. He gasps for air and Ignis takes that moment to sink his teeth into his shoulder.

Prompto jerks in his grip, clenching down involuntarily, and he gets to see Gladio’s face twist in pleasure as he’s filled for the second time. Gladio comes down breathing hard and crushes his lips to Prompto’s, quickly, before he pulls away to lie flat on the bed. Prompto sighs at the loss, but Noct moves to fill the empty space, lying flat on Prompto and - Prompto stops breathing at this - reaching between Prompto’s legs, dipping his fingers into the mess he and Gladio left and sliding them in and out until Prompto is shaking.

He barely even registers when Ignis lets him slip down to his side, to pillow his head on Gladio’s stomach. But he notices for sure when Ignis straddles his chest and leans down over him. Ignis kisses him deeply, sweetly, smiling against his mouth, and when he pulls away he keeps his eyes locked on Prompto’s. Prompto watches him as he slowly, slowly runs his hands up Prompto’s chest to his throat.

That more than anything convinces Prompto that this is okay. Iggy obviously wants this, too, the way he can’t keep his hands away from Prompto’s neck. Even he looks a little nervous, watching Prompto carefully as he presses down.

Prompto’s eyes are wide and his mouth is open so he can pant, and he waits it out as Ignis applies more and more pressure, until his face and fingers tingle with it, until he tries to take in a breath and can’t. His chest tries and fails to heave and Ignis lets up. He’s still fully clothed, his hair is still perfectly spiked, but something about his eyes makes Prompto think he’s more exposed than he’d expected to be.

Prompto tilts his head back, and Ignis curses and puts one hand around Prompto’s neck again.

With the other hand, he pulls his erection free of his pajama pants, and as he chokes Prompto he jerks himself off, in short stuttering movements that Prompto knows won’t last long. He opens his mouth and tries again to suck in air against the grip. He gets nothing and this time Ignis doesn’t let up. Prompto writhes and bucks under him and his vision goes out for the second time that night as Ignis comes right onto his face.

Ignis lets him go all at once, and Prompto heaves a breath, then another. He blinks to find Ignis leaning right over him, caging him in. Lazily - he can’t move in any other way; he’s barely moved under his own power in an hour but he’s exhausted - Prompto lifts a hand to his face, wipes the come off his cheek, and licks his hand clean.

Ignis makes a strangled noise and leans his head on Prompto’s shoulder. Just for a second, though. Then, with a sigh, he presses a kiss to Prompto’s temple and rolls himself off the bed.

Noct is back on top of Prompto almost instantly, holding him steady and fitting his own fingers hesitantly into the bruises Ignis left. Prompto shivers. Gladio’s hand settles on Prompto’s head, reassuring and heavy, and soon Noct is getting petted, too.

“Careful, princess. It takes practice to be as kinked as Iggy,” Gladio warns.

“Practice and a great deal of care,” Ignis says. Prompto turns his head slightly to see him coming out of the bathroom, holding a stack of hand towels. “I’ll teach you, if you want, and Prompto is willing.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” Noct says, giving him a considering look. Prompto lets him. He’s too wrung out to turn away and hide himself.

Noct props himself up on an elbow and gestures for Ignis to hand him a towel. When Ignis provides it, he unfolds it and cleans himself off first, then Prompto. Ignis sits on the edge of the mattress and hands another towel off to Gladio, and then wipes the rest of the mess off Prompto’s face.

The towels are warm and damp, because Ignis thinks of everything, and Prompto lies completely still for once and drifts for a while. Having all three of them around him is just… nice. Feeling sore and sated like this is better, especially when Gladio tugs a handful of his hair and Noct presses his fingers gently into the bruises Ignis bit into his neck. He could fall asleep like this, but Ignis makes them all get up and move to the other bed.

“We’ll all feel better in the morning if we haven’t slept in that,” he says, which makes sense, but doesn’t make Prompto’s legs work any better on the three steps to the other mattress. Gladio is already there to catch him and pull him under the sheets.

“You should take a potion,” Noct says, frowning as he climbs in alongside them.

Prompto sighs. He has just enough wrung out bliss left in him to not trip over his tongue when he replies. “I want to feel it.” He coughs afterward; his throat is going to be sore for a while, he thinks. So is the rest of him. He’ll be feeling this for days, if he’s lucky.

“Oh,” is all Noct says. When Prompto looks up at him, his eyes are dark again. He wraps his entire body around Prompto when he lies down, tucking Prompto’s head into his chest and throwing one leg over Prompto’s hip.

“We’ll keep one on hand for tomorrow, in case we need you in top form,” Ignis tells him. He slides in behind Noct and reaches over them both to take Gladio’s hand, completing their little circle. “Otherwise, I for one will enjoy watching you in the car.”

Prompto makes the smallest of surprised sounds at that thought, and Gladio huffs. “Go to sleep, you weirdos.”

Prompto thinks that word should hurt, but Gladio makes it a term of endearment. He snuggles back into Gladio's arms, glances over Noct’s shoulder to see Ignis’s fond smile. He still has his doubts that this is normal. But something in his chest unknots as Noct cuddles him in his sleep. Maybe it doesn't matter so much either way, he thinks, and lets himself drift to sleep, secure in their hold.