Chapter Text
If Prompto has to guess, he’d say that the Argentums are pretty well off.
Maybe they're not loaded and his parents’ jobs still keep them busy most days and nights, but Prompto doesn’t really remember ever truly wanting for something other than attention. He always has enough money for food, gets a monthly allowance and his parents seem happy to pay for his school books and uniforms. If he just asks, he can get money for clothes when he needs them and even got his first camera as a gift back when he was a kid. Sure, he’s had to get a few jobs on the side to support his hobbies and habits (namely, photography and afternoons at the arcade), but he figures that’s pretty normal stuff for kids his age.
He’s explained as much to Noctis, he’s sure. His life as a commoner had come up unexpectedly often over the course of their almost year-long friendship. Sometimes it was just innocent curiosity, an expected byproduct of the prince’s relatively sheltered life.
Other times it was to negotiate boundaries when Noctis forgot his status and had to be lightly reminded that not everyone lived the way he did. But they’re long past Prompto’s insecurity about how unluxurious his place is compared to Noct’s apartment (just the apartment, to say nothing of the Citadel ) as well as the long negotiation that was explaining to Noct that no, he can’t hang out today and yes, he had to keep up his side job for pocket money, that’s pretty common for plebes. Aside from being a little pouty whenever Prompto had to turn him down to work a shift, Noctis had mostly taken it in stride.
So Prompto’s sure Noctis knows that he’s plenty financially stable. Which is why he’s a little suspicious of Noct’s sudden change in behavior.
It’s a fairly recent development in their friendship and, as far as Prompto can tell, not caused by anything in particular. He knows they’re not approaching anything like an anniversary because he’s definitely been keeping track, something he’s not even slightly embarrassed by since it’s not everyday the prince of your country wants to be your friend. And their dynamic is otherwise the same: they still spend their afternoons goofing off in whatever arcade or cafe they find themselves in until they get tired or Noctis’ advisor or Shield come to nag him into doing something princely.
It’s just now, Prompto rarely spends anything other than his time.
***
The first time it happens, it’s almost passable as an accident.
They’re getting crepes from the usual cafe after school, but when Prompto receives his finished crepe, he’s hit with an immediate, sinking kind of horror as he realizes that he’s left his wallet behind in his locker. He’s just steeled himself to negotiate with the cafe owner to pay later that day or the next day - she knew them well enough as regulars - but Noctis steps in and pays before he can say anything.
“It’s fine,” he says, waving a hand as Prompto tries to hand him some cash the next day. “Just pay for me next time or something.”
But something in his tone makes Prompto suspect there won’t be a next time, and he doesn’t even have to wait a week to be proven right.
***
Two days later, while Prompto is preoccupied with the new rhythm game the arcade has installed, Noctis leaves and comes back with the sandwiches they’d been talking about getting “after this round” four rounds ago.
“Got sick of waiting for ‘this round’ to be over,” he says, but he changes the topic when Prompto tries to pay him back.
***
The next time they hang out, Prompto comes to the arcade late because his teacher needed someone to run some files over to the front office after class and he felt bad when no one volunteered immediately. When he finally gets to the arcade, he finds Noct sitting on the bench near the front playing King’s Knight on his phone.
“Oh, you’re here,” he says, tone carefully nonchalant as always, and hands Prompto an arcade card. “Got you this, didn’t want to have to wait for you to make it through the line.”
Prompto blinks at the pay station and then back to Noct, because there’s no line , and he says as much out loud, but Noct just waves him off.
“Whatever, let’s just play already,” he grumbles, already walking towards one of the machines. “Or are you that worried about me kicking your ass?”
Objectively, he knows it’s just bait to change the topic, but he can’t resist taking it, that playfully competitive side of him is just so much easier to indulge. He does pause when he swipes the card for the first time and he sees that the remaining credits balance is probably enough to last him at least the entire month. It feels weird and exploitative, but he’s not sure how to bring it up without making things awkward and he knows Noct will only find some new, artful way to dodge the subject.
But it feels dirty going to the arcade and spending Noctis’ money without Noctis, so he picks up shifts at the closest fast food restaurant when Noctis is busy instead.
***
It’s been a month and Prompto still hasn’t paid for anything whenever he and Noctis hang out.
And it’s not for lack of trying. He tries, he really does, but Noctis always manages to somehow get to the register before him. Once he had almost made it, but the cashier was a pretty girl who had complimented his t-shirt and that left him just struck enough that Noct was able to gently shove him aside and hand her his credit card before he could protest.
Sure, it’s nice on Prompto’s wallet - he actually has a savings stash now and he’ll be able to afford an upgrade on his camera a lot faster - but he isn’t completely sure what to make of it. He has a few working theories, but none of them seem wholly correct.
His first was that this whole thing was Noct’s subtle way of getting him to quit his job so they could hang out more, but even when he’d worked into conversation that his current employ had him on contract no matter what until the end of the year, Noctis didn’t stop. And Noctis is only getting busier and busier these days, to the point that Prompto has been able to pick up more shifts while Noctis is off doing whatever princely duty he’s unable to neglect at the moment.
Then he thinks maybe Noctis feels bad for making him miss out on work and is paying for him as a way to settle the difference. But it’s not like they go anywhere Prompto wouldn’t be able to afford anyway, and Prompto has a regular work schedule for at least his main job that he’s been pretty steadfast in keeping, and his part time at the fast food restaurant is relatively flexible.
It might be pity, a point the cruel part of him always wanders to. He might just be the charity case commoner the prince keeps around to feel good about himself. But he doesn’t think that’s it. That’s not something Noctis - who was more pouty than anything when Prompto turned him down to go to work and almost always overstepped first and apologized later when it came to their differences in station - would do.
Or, that’s what he hopes, at least.
***
“I imagine he’s trying to thank you for your patience in remaining his friend,” Ignis says, when Prompto finally feels brave enough to ask.
Noctis is off in his room taking an afternoon nap as usual, so Prompto is keeping Ignis company in the kitchen while Ignis tries and fails to get him to focus on his homework. It’s not for lack of trying, but Prompto knows Ignis’ weakness is his interest in the prince’s daily life and well-being, and he exploits that weakness whenever he can. Especially when, like today, he’s hoping it’ll give him some insight on Noctis’ sometimes enigmatic behavior.
He wasn’t originally going to say anything, but as the weeks go by and Noct continues to drop cash on him, he can’t stop himself from asking. The answer comes surprisingly easy, Ignis doesn’t even have to think about it that long, but that’s probably because the guy’s been around Noct since they were kids and because, knowing the two of them, Ignis was probably the one managing Noctis’ finances and noticed the sudden spike in the prince’s spending on his own.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Noct has a hard time making and keeping friends that aren’t in some way influenced or dissuaded by his status and duties as prince. And despite being a prince, he is far from a master of diplomacy or communication, so I suspect that he’s trying to show you his gratitude in the only way he feels he is able: by lavishing you with gifts.”
Ignis says it so matter-of-factly that it seems almost obvious in hindsight. Obvious, but no less uncomfortable.
“Ugh, when you put it like that,” Prompto groans in his seat, kicking lightly at the counter. He stops when Ignis gives him a pointed glare. “I wish he’d stop. I didn’t become his friend for the perks and I’m not going to stop just because he suddenly has to go be the prince. This whole thing just makes me feel like a gold digger or something.”
“Well, your lack of shamelessness certainly clears you of that particular charge,” Ignis smirks. “But I’m sure if you told Noctis how you felt, he’d hold off on the lavishing.”
“Please don’t say it like that. ‘Lavish,’” Prompto repeats, scrunching up his nose at the sound. “Now I really feel dirty.”
“I’m sure we can find another equally descriptive word,” Ignis continues, unapologetic. “Spoil perhaps. Indulge. Or maybe even pamper-”
“Stop stop stop!” Prompto cuts in, shuddering. “I get it, I get it. Stop bothering you, start studying. Yeesh, I didn’t think it was possible, but now I feel dirtier .”
“Yes, yes,” Ignis’ tone is slightly victorious. “But Prompto?”
“If you give me another word that’s nastier than ‘lavish,’ I’m just going to eat at home,” Prompto grimaces at the word again.
“Not quite,” Ignis smiles at him and it’s almost the warm, indulgent one he gives Noct. Prompto’s honestly a little taken aback by it for a moment, because the guy could barely stand his guts when they’d first met and it’d taken months to get comfortable just bantering with him. “I just wanted to tell you that I would strongly consider telling the prince everything you’ve just told me. If nothing else, I think at the very least it would grant the both of you peace of mind on the status of your friendship.”
Peace of mind for the both of them. Prompto thinks about it for a moment and curses inwardly. He hadn’t thought about Noct yet, he was so used to taking the prince’s carefully constructed carelessness at face value, to basking in the warmth and safety of that confidence. But Ignis - Ignis, who was closer to Noct than just about anyone - has just suggested that Noct’s as insecure about their friendship as he was. Woops , he thinks, but there isn’t anything he can do about it right now, not with Noct asleep and Prompto a bundle of anxious nerves himself.
“S-sure, I will,” he stutters out, resolving that he would tell Noct as much, if only not today, then throws on an easy grin that feels a little weak. “Wow, Iggy. That’s some A+ advice. You thinking of becoming my advisor, too?”
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Ignis says, flatly. “Though I’m sure Noct would be happy to foot the bill.”
Prompto groans and Ignis’ answering smirk is just the level of shit-eating for things to feel normal again.
***
“I have to tell you something,” he forces out, the next time he and Noct hang out. They’re at the Crow’s Nest sharing a plate of fries (which Noct paid for, of course).
“Shoot,” Noct says, absentmindedly, more focused on his phone than the conversation. Most people would find it rude, but in this moment Prompto finds it more comforting than anything.
He’s about to say it - he really is - he’s thought it all out in his head and repeated it twice, but then he sees Noct’s Shield through the glass window. Before he can stop himself, he waves and tries to act like he’s just happy to see Gladio and not relieved at the excuse to avoid the conversation. The motion catches Noct’s attention, and the prince levels a glare at him for giving away their location. He just shrugs in response.
“Thanks for the assist, Prompto. Good to know you’re useful for something.” Gladio says, ruffling at Prompto’s hair and he’s too surprised to be upset that his carefully groomed hair is in ruins now. That’s new , he thinks. Gladio seemed to only tolerate him before. Then he remembers Ignis, and the way he almost immediately warmed when Prompto had confided in him that he’d only ever wanted to be Noct’s friend for that reason alone, not out of any desire for status or wealth. Who knew Noct’s people were such big gossips?
“Traitor,” Noctis grumbles, distracting him from the thought. “Is it that time already?”
“It’s that time,” Gladio sounds equal parts disapproving and amused as Noct drops to a dead weight onto the table. “Come quietly and I won’t tell Ignis about the fries.”
“Fine,” Noct drawls, pulling up his bag from under the table. He’s about to slide out of their booth when he pauses, blinking at Prompto in realization. “Oh yeah, what’d you want to tell me earlier?”
“O-oh, right,” he freezes, struggling for some excuse that could pass as natural after fully believing he’d dodged this bullet. “Don’t think I can meet up Friday. Coworker’s got a thing, asked me to pick up. You know how it is.”
“That’s cool,” Noctis says, unaffected. He’s used to this by now. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yup.”
As Noct gets up to leave, Gladio stares at Prompto for a moment, long enough for Prompto to feel uncomfortable, expression inscrutable. Then they say goodbye and they’re gone, leaving Prompto alone with his thoughts and a quickly cooling plate of fries.
***
In the end, Ignis is the one who presses him into the conversation. He’d been putting it off for two weeks now, and he’d been avoiding Ignis for just as long, not ready to deal with the feeling that he was disappointing Noct’s advisor, as foolish as that was.
But Noct had insisted they hang out at his apartment today - Prompto couldn’t remember the reason why - and Ignis is naturally there. He doesn’t seem mad or anything, but he does give Prompto a long, meaningful look when he says he’ll need to step out to grab some ingredients for the dinner he’s cooking them tonight.
It’s as great a time and place as any, they’re alone in a familiar place, and Ignis has all but said they won’t be interrupted like they were at the Crow’s Nest. (Which, evidently, was why Gladio had given him that strange look. Gossips. ) He still puts it off, though, for as long as he can, until Noct gets a text from Ignis saying he’s on his way home and about ten minutes out.
It still takes him a moment, and he’s not sure if it’s the time constraint pushing his procrastinator’s brain or the comfort that it’ll be over in a few minutes no matter how the conversation goes, but he finally feels brave enough.
“D-dude, I have to tell you something,” he says, taking a deep breath when Noctis looks at him expectantly. “I know what you’ve been doing, with the- the paying for me thing? I think I get it.”
Noctis’ face drops, ever so slightly, but he manages to sound nonchalant when he replies with a casual, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Prompto sucks in another breath, wishing he had Noct’s skill when it came to acting cool. “Listen you- You don’t have to like, buy my loyalty or anything, ok? I didn’t become friends with you because you were the prince. Well, I kinda did, but not because you were the prince, if that makes sense. I never expected any, I don’t know, benefits, I guess?” Prompto cringes a little at his phrasing, but forges onward. “What I mean is, don’t worry, or maybe get worried, because I’m stuck with you for the long haul no matter what. So you don’t have to keep getting me stuff just for being your friend. You just- you don’t have to, ok? Sorry, if that got real.”
He tacks on the apology as an afterthought, but he’s glad he did because the silence that follows is terrifying even with the feeble balm of a hasty apology. Prompto can’t even bring himself to look at Noctis because even though he was his friend, he was still the prince, and maybe Prompto had been too forward or overstepped or something.
“I know I don’t have to,” Noctis finally says, and he sounds so uncharacteristically giddy that Prompto can't help hazarding a look. Noct's expression is still carefully schooled into something vaguely mischievous and far away from any extremes of emotion, but Prompto can see something like relief running underneath. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.”
“Nooooooo,” Prompto groans, but if he’s honest with himself, he’s just as relieved as he is frustrated by this development. Peace of mind, Ignis had said, maybe that’s what it feels like. “Ugh, come on, dude, work with me here. I already feel like a gold digger.”
“Quit your job so we can hang out more.”
“No,” he shoots back, quickly, and Noctis laughs.
“Then you’re not a gold digger,” he grins, even as Prompto goes to punch him. “I think a more accurate term is sugar b-”
Prompto shoves a pillow in his face before he can finish the word, happy that his asshole best friend can’t see his rapidly forming blush. Noctis struggles as Prompto pins him down by a pillow to the face, but his muffled laughter is enough for Prompto to know he’s fine.
Ignis chooses to walk in on that moment. He blinks indulgently as Prompto jumps away from Noctis with the pillow before going on to the kitchen to put away the groceries in his hand.
“By all means, do go on,” he deadpans. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“Prompto tried to murder me, Ignis,” Noctis says, but he doesn’t sound anything but amused. “With a pillow.”
“Yes, well, I’ll be sure to add attempted assassination by pillow to his list of charges against the crown, alongside his… how do your contemporaries put it? Ah, gold digging.”
Noctis’ grin is viciously delighted, so Prompto grabs the pillow and goes in for the kill before he can say anything.
“I understand the sentiment, Prompto,” Ignis says, unconcerned as the two of them struggle on the couch. “But do try to keep him alive for at least another hour. I’d hate for this food to go to waste, after all.”
***
Prompto pays for their fries the next time they go to the Crow’s Nest and two days later, Prompto shows up to his shift at the fast food restaurant to find a bespectacled Noctis dressed up in one of their uniforms and his boss introducing him as their new coworker, ‘Nox.’
He laughs so hard when they finally clock out that Noctis chases him, grumbling, all the way to his apartment and then pays for two Jetty’s and a salmon the next time they eat together in revenge.
It’s a compromise though, and he can work with that.