Well, whatever this is. First kisses, first friend, friend not chosen by duty or title, but simply by being nice. Fun. Someone worth knowing, worth keeping.
Keeping. He could have lost Prompto right here and now, could have made the wrong step entirely by giving into the urges that flickered and burned within, by letting fire consume him and bringing them to this point, but he's kissing back, he's getting closer and the slow, almost clumsy way they're melting together is somehow too hard and too easy to stick to. Things that are and aren't enough all at the same time, where his hands freeze in their bid to explore, his tongue moves slow and hesitant. It's an edge, a precipice. Somewhere he could freefall, just dive into the depths and let everything else disappear into meaninglessness. But each thud of his heart comes with the weight of hesitation, of not wanting to spoil something that's already so delicate, as though Prompto himself is a skittish cat Noctis might scare off at any moment by going just a touch too far.
Of course, it's hard to continue that train of thought when Prompto's ended up in his lap, warm and heavy and present and all too real. It's hard to do anything when that sensation is there, distracting, finally leading his hands to unlock and trail across Prompto's shoulders, down his arms.
Noctis smiles, a brief little thing that comes with the softest exhale of laughter, as though this manages to wash away all the things that have him mixed up. )
Yeah.
( And, if the answer wasn't enough, Noctis is happy to demonstrate how okay this is with the brush and nip of lips against Prompto's jawline. )
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Well, whatever this is. First kisses, first friend, friend not chosen by duty or title, but simply by being nice. Fun. Someone worth knowing, worth keeping.
Keeping. He could have lost Prompto right here and now, could have made the wrong step entirely by giving into the urges that flickered and burned within, by letting fire consume him and bringing them to this point, but he's kissing back, he's getting closer and the slow, almost clumsy way they're melting together is somehow too hard and too easy to stick to. Things that are and aren't enough all at the same time, where his hands freeze in their bid to explore, his tongue moves slow and hesitant. It's an edge, a precipice. Somewhere he could freefall, just dive into the depths and let everything else disappear into meaninglessness. But each thud of his heart comes with the weight of hesitation, of not wanting to spoil something that's already so delicate, as though Prompto himself is a skittish cat Noctis might scare off at any moment by going just a touch too far.
Of course, it's hard to continue that train of thought when Prompto's ended up in his lap, warm and heavy and present and all too real. It's hard to do anything when that sensation is there, distracting, finally leading his hands to unlock and trail across Prompto's shoulders, down his arms.
Noctis smiles, a brief little thing that comes with the softest exhale of laughter, as though this manages to wash away all the things that have him mixed up. )
Yeah.
( And, if the answer wasn't enough, Noctis is happy to demonstrate how okay this is with the brush and nip of lips against Prompto's jawline. )