downrightfierce | 008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

008. prompto/gladio; oh, you're in my veins

and i cannot get you out

Prompto was pretty sure he was an idiot. No… not pretty sure. He knew he was an idiot.

And really… Cid and his never ending taunts to the marks on his neck were not helping. Nor was the fact he fucking hurt. He felt a little bit like he'd gotten hit by a truck. Or, more accurately, that he'd almost died, had his side torn to shreds and then decided to have some of the most intense sex of his life. Yeah… he was definitely feeling it.

But as much as a mess as his body was, it had nothing on his state of mind.

Because he had had some of the most intense sex of his life with Gladio, proceeded to spend the night with him cuddling, and then the morning he'd tried to fucking high five the other man, thanked him for the sex with a thumbs up and tripped over his own damn two feet as he tried to hightail it out of the caravan. Not exactly his smoothest moment.

“You. Are. Such. An. Idiot.” He mumbled and let his head fall onto the workbench. Gave it a few more hits with his forehead for good measure and realized he'd forgotten all about Cid for half a minute, at least until the older man started to laugh.

“Well I ain't gonna argue you on that one, kid, but you think you can keep the dramatics to a minimum here… we got work to do,” Cid said and pointed the end of a screwdriver at the pile of weapons on the end of the bench.

Prompto lifted his head. Sighed. Straightened up and grabbed the gun next to him. If nothing else it could maybe distract him from his own idiocy for a while. Distract him from that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had completely fucked everything up with his inability to be normal that morning. Distract him from how he could still feel Gladio's hands all over him, how the marks on his body still felt the ghost of lips, how he could still feel Gladio in him every time he moved.

Distract him from how he wanted more.

And it worked. For a while. He got lost in the work with Cid, found his mind clearing as he focused on the repairs and modifications, felt better as he took something broken and made it better. Worked at least until his phone buzzed against the bench where he had plugged it in to charge. He glanced up from his work and seeing that it was a text from Cindy he put his tool down and grabbed the phone.

Hey, Heartbreaker… looks like tall, dark, and handsome is getting ready to take off… thought you might like to know

The panic was almost immediate. Gladio was… leaving!?!? And that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach threatened to overt take him, felt massive all the sudden as his throat went dry and he could barely swallow against the hard lump caught in the back of it. His hands started to shake… and he knew from experience that this could quickly go into a full out panic attack if he didn't nip it in the bud.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe…

Five things to see; gun, screwdriver, phone, hammer, Cid. His eyes darted to each in kind. Four things he could touch; metal, workbench, denim, his own arm. And so his hand moved from gun to table top to his knee to arm. Three things to smell; gunpowder, the terribly fruity shampoo he'd borrowed from Cindy when he'd gotten back to the garage, the smoke from Cid’s pipe on the table. Two things he could hear; Cid drumming his fingers on the workbench… the blood as it rushed in his own ears and one thing he could taste was the bile that threatened in the back of his throat.

Fuck.

Prompto scrambled off the stool and ignoring Cid’s concerned voice behind him he bolted from the back room and to where he knew Gladio had parked his bike. He stopped a few feet short and now there had no idea what to even say.

“You're leaving?” he asked after a moment. His voice thin and tight.

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Gladio knew who it was scrambling against the loose rocks on the pavement as he stood loading up his bike. His hands stopped in their familiar motions, the last strap that would hold his pack in place still undone. This morning had been so painfully awkward in a way Gladio couldn't remember any encounter he'd ever had being, with Prompto trying to get away from him as quickly as possible. Not that he hadn't expected it would be some kind of awkward, it was Prompto, after all, who was just sort of perpetually awkward ~~in an adorable way~~, but nothing on the level it had been. So he figured he'd make it easier and head out so it didn't have to get any more awkward.

But here Prompto was, sounding less than happy to find he had been ready to sneak off into the unending night.

"...Yeah," Gladio said after a second or two, hands going for the last strap. "Hadn't planned on sticking around too long originally, you know? Always needed somewhere else. Life of a hunter or something, right?" He kept his voice easy, hands calm as he worked, not wanting to push anything into a new tailspin.

He'd fucked Prompto. Noct's best friend. Spent the night cuddled up with him like he didn't usually do with people he fucked. Woke up and found himself more relaxed than he could remember being in years because he'd actually slept properly for once. He wasn't letting his mind linger on that fact too much, though it kept going back to it.

His hands balled into fists at his side, nails digging into his own skin. It was a full out war that waged in his mind. The logic knowing that Gladio should go. That it would end this, whatever this was, before it took hold even more. That Gladio was right, he was needed somewhere else. Always would be. He shouldn’t waste away his skills hanging around Hammerhead just because…

…because Prompto wanted him to. Because Prompto needed him to. It was a selfish want, a selfish need. Testament to his own weakness, to all the parts of him he’s tried to bury deep over the years. That co-dependent streak that ran deep and strong, that he had forced himself away from the moment he had forced himself to Hammerhead and away from Gladio and Ignis in the first place.

Stupid, this is stupid, he chided himself. You slept with the guy once, just let him go and move forward. After all, hadn’t he been trying to do the exact same thing since Gladio had tucked him against his chest not even twelve hours ago? Leave.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess so…” he replied, eyes on the ground, anywhere but on Gladio, terrified if he let himself even give half a glance he’d beg the the other man to stay.

The words unsaid burned in his chest and it hurt. Please don’t go… please stay… I need you…. He lifted his hands and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, hard. Scolded himself for the wetness that it hid because he absolutely should be fucking crying because Gladio was leaving.

...

He heard it. He heard it in Prompto's voice, in just those few words. The tears that were already threatening, that seconds later would break hidden behind upraised hands, with Gladio's back turned to the other. His fingers tightened, one into a fist, the other on leather strap. Why...? Why was Prompto crying?! A part of him wanted to turn and tell Prompto to stop it, man up, there was no point in crying. They were both grown men now who had lived through some shit and they didn't need to cry any more. They were stronger than that by the virtue of still being alive.

But he couldn't, he wouldn't, do that. If the time alone had taught him anything, it was something about trying to control his damn temper. Not always successful but... better. There had been nights he had cried, but always alone. He had to be stronger than that.

But why was Prompto crying at all?

"...didn't seem like I was much wanted around here, this morning." There it was. As close as he was going to go to admitting that Prompto's brush off had been harder to take than he would like to admit. The wondering if he had done something wrong, the knowing he had and maybe Prompto was realizing that it wasn't worth it to be around him. The shit he deserved for walking out on both of them. Fuck.

Deluding himself on some things he should know better than to.

The worst part was that Gladio was absolutely right. And Prompto knew it. He’d made that morning about as awkward as awkward got and of course that’s what Gladio took from it. Because that’s how it had looked. So why would he stay. Prompto sure as hell wouldn’t if someone had done that to him.

But hadn’t that been the point he reminded himself. That the night before had just been fueled by desperation, misplaced emotions… two friends getting carried away in an attempt to find some kind of solace in the never ending darkness.

But if that’s all it was… why did the thought of Gladio leaving hurt so damn much. Why was it sheer panic at the idea of watching Gladio drive off and not being certain when (not if, never if - Noct was coming back… eventually, Gladio would be there when that happened) he’d ever see the other man again.

He’d had sex plenty of times and walked away without a second thought. Why was it so damn hard to do it now.

He rubbed his eyes again, forced the breakdown away and let his hands drop with an audible exhale once at least somewhat more composed. “I -” he bit at his lip and started again. “I know, and I’m sorry. I - I kind of.. Freaked out I guess,” he tried to explain. He took a deep breath and closed a bit of the space between him and Gladio. “I just… I don’t sleep with people, I mean, I sleep with people but I don’t like, you know… sleep sleep with them and it was…” he can feel the redness across his face as he completely botched any attempt at translating the jumbled mess of his mind to Gladio. “And it was nice and I don’t know… I just…” a shrug. “Freaked out.” He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, certain he probably looked like a tomato with hair right about then.

Yeah he did look like a tomato. Given that all of them were getting paler as the long night wore on, any hints of tans wore away and unless someone was duskier by nature, they all looked a bit like ghosts. So Prompto's blush was immensely worse as Gladio finally looked back, seeing Prompto unable to meet his eyes and looking completely embarrassed.

That was so much worse than he'd heard Prompto be in the past, and Gladio almost felt embarrassed just listening. His hand came up and he slid a hand back through his hair, pulling bits out of the horse knot he had it in. Then, after several long seconds, because that was what it sounded like, Gladio hesitantly asked, "...Prom, was... that your first time?" Because it hadn't seemed like that, and- no way. But that whole 'I don't sleep with people' and how embarrassed he was and how evidently freaked out Prompto had been...

Oh fuck him if that was how he took someone's virginity because that had been way too rough for a first.

He just stared at Gladio for a moment as the words sunk in and the meaning behind them and the realization that they were on a completely different page. And then he shook his head, maybe a little bit too much. “No, gods no… I didn’t - I’ve had sex, like…” like what, a lot? Because that would just make him sound like some man whore and so he doesn’t finish the sentence, just sort of laughs and and glanced at the ground. “I - you’re good, big guy, you didn’t... you know.”

He paused, pressed lips together, took a breath and started again. “I meant in the actual, literal sense of it? I don’t - I always leave after.” A shrug as something crossed his features. Shame maybe. That this was the first time he’s actually voiced this. That he’d become that person who used casual sex to try to duct tape himself back together and never let it be anything more than just getting off.

Until now. Because last night had meant something. He wasn’t exactly sure what. Different than it had been with Noct, but something nonetheless. It had felt like something, like this little spark in his bones, some part of him coming back to life and it terrified him.

...Huh. If he'd been asked, Gladio would have thought the exact opposite. That Prompto seemed the kind of person who would be clingy, who would be a hell of a cuddler in bed. He let his hand drop and flipped it in a slight gesture. "You didn't exactly stick around with me, either. But, look... you're not the only one, okay?" He wasn't ashamed of it and shrugged easily. "I don't stick around, either. Just..." A slow breath out; he hated this sort of stuff, specially on top of the years of build up between the two of them.

"Didn't feel like the right thing with you."

There it was. Whatever it was, it was there, and now it was hanging in the air between them.

"You stayed, though." Why.

Maybe he would have been. If life hadn't completely derailed. If he'd found someone willing to put in the effort of making him move past Noct. If anything about their lives has turned out to be… not this. Maybe yeah he would have been who he was supposed to be. Maybe he would have been like some overgrown cat with that someone, all cuddles and lazy mornings. And maybe that's what was so daunting about the night before. That he had almost been that Prompto. That for one brief moment he'd been able to let go.

And he's not sure what's scarier. Never feeling it again, or feeling it a hundred times over and the pain when it will inevitably go away. Because everything went away in the end.

He more than heard the question in Gladio's statement. And he wasn’t sure how to answer it. Gladio’s own bout of honesty weighed heavy between them and it stirred something in Prompto. He slowly closed the last few steps between them, heart pounding in his chest. “I guess because -” a pause as he glanced up at Gladio “I guess because it felt like the right thing, with you,” he paraphrased and let his eyes fall down again.

His hands lifted, fingers moving to curl around the edges of Gladio’s jacket. “Don’t go,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he let his forehead fall to Gladio’s chest. A request he shouldn’t be asking, but he was asking it anyways.

Gladio stared down at the far smaller man who was quietly clinging to him like he was a piece of driftwood in a storm and felt some part of him, deep inside, quietly crack open. Something he had closed off as a safety measure, from him, for him, he wasn't even sure any longer. Something that cracked open enough to have him bring both arms up, slowly curling one around the back that felt so much broader than when they were younger, one bringing up a broad hand to carefully fit around the back of Prompto's skull, holding him in place.

All that resolve to be on the road by now, all that determination to not fuck things up worse, all that coldness that had decided that he believed his own bullshit when he thought he could leave this behind so easily, all of it gone in just two little words.

His fingers rubbed slowly against the scalp they rested on, trying to make his own decision even though it was already made in his heart. What was he going to do here? They didn't need another person mucking with their supplies. He had been traveling for so long now that the idea of settling in one place felt foreign, yet... Prompto had asked him to. Like it was just that simple. "...a few days," spoken quietly, roughly. "I'll stay for a few days, see... see how things are. Okay?" A half-way point between his brain and his heart. Give them both time to... figure this out.

It’s almost immediate, the way his body sagged into the touch as soon as it came. Relief flooded through him at the feel of it, that large hand around his back, the other against his head. And Gladio wouldn’t be far from the mark with his thoughts. Prompto was lost, more than he’d ever felt before in his life, more than he had ever imagined he could feel.

And Gladio? Well, Gladio was the first solid thing he’d found to hang onto in a long while. There was a voice - tiny and guilt ridden, swirled in the back of his mind where he kept all the bad thoughts, the ones that kept him up at night, the ones that made him doubt everything - and that voice, soft and easy to ignore in that moment, wondered if this was right. Was it right to take the comfort that Gladio offered up, to press himself against the other’s chest and take what he could of that immense strength when his heart belonged so fully to someone else. Was his own desperation to not feel so damn alone anymore clouding his judgement of the situation.

Gladio held him like he was something… something more. Touch gentle and tender, those arms around him the night before like it was more than just the sex that had transpired before it. Those arms around him now like he was… like he was worth a damn. Worth more than just Noct’s tag along friend on some road trip. Was this just Gladio trying to do right by Noct, take care of his friend while he was gone. Some sense of duty… pity really in the end. Or did Gladio actually care. A thought that felt ridiculous but somehow not at the same time.

Did this matter to Gladio in a way that Prompto couldn’t return.

A thought that if he stopped to think about would flood him with guilt. So he didn’t think about it Just pressed himself in closer to the man willing to let him. Let the fingers that rubbed against his scalp soothe away the last of the lingering panic, let the words spread a warmth through him and not linger on the why of it all.

“Okay…” he replied, the word muffled a little with his head tucked against Gladio’s chest. He lingered there for another moment, breathed in the scent of leather and something indefinable outside of Gladio. But then he pulled back a little and gave a joking punch to Gladio's arm. “I'm pissed at you by the way,” though his tone and the grin on his face proved him to be anything but. “Do you know how many shitty comments I've gotten from Cid from the giant ass hickey you left on me?” said with a laugh.

Gladio would have, if he knew, told Prompto it was okay. He didn't mind being used. Really, he and Ignis had discussed more than once if Prompto and Noct were actually in some kind of a relationship or not. It had started out as a rather nasty argument between them because on one hand, Noctis was supposed to be getting married to Lady Lunafreya, but... it was Noct, who needed to have real love, some kind of real life. Let him love Prompto, even if it was going to hurt them both. Ignis had dryly commented that he had never found any... physical evidence that a relationship was occurring, certain that between their two younger charges one of them would be unable to hide it from him, but Gladio had only shrugged and pointed out that if they were really that determined to hide a relationship, they would. Besides, not every relationship was physical.

If they were using each other, in their own ways, was it really so bad?

Prompto had long since become something more than just Noct's tag along friend and Gladio would have given him a piece of his mind if he knew. Prompto had become a friend to all of them, a brother, something so much more than they had a word to explain. There were only three people still on this plane who understood what they had gone through. How could he not be something more? ...True, his actions after Noct had been taken from them... probably hadn't helped any. How he had run in the face of his anger and shame.

BVut the laugh, the punch to his arm, loosened the air and he could give a small smirk back. "Old man's just jealous he can't get it up anymore; just ignore him." He brought his hand up just enough to be able to ruffle the chocobo-butt hair. "Just tell him that. He'll stop." And probably throw something, but he couldn't even imagine those kinds of words leaving Prompto's mouth.

He ducked a little out of the ruffle, an offended expression on his face that was really only about half serious. But really, come on, Gladio, it took a lot of effort to keep the chocobo butt, have some respect. Especially with hair supplies becoming harder and harder to come by.

Prompto blushed a little at the notion, chuckled and shook his head. “Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah, no, I’m not telling him that.” A pause as he raised his brows. “You’re more than welcome to though, big guy,” which was kind of an entertaining notion really. Although probably best not to do it in the shop - while Cid had trouble with the finer movements needed to do the repairs and modifications he once did Prompto had no doubt he would still be capable of using the weapons in there.

"You really think I wouldn't?" Gladio wasn't afraid of Cid, even if the man was a legend. Look, they'd gone through hell and back; there wasn't much he was honestly afraid of any more and anything he was... well, it was a hell of a lot worse than being threatened by an old man with a weapon.

He squeezed Prompto's shoulder firmly before doing something that he didn't really think about, bending down and brushing his lips to the other's forehead. It actually wasn't until he turned around and was pulling his pack off his bike that he realized what he did, hands hesitating in their work for a few seconds, staring at nothing, before he mentally whispered a curse.

Just, don't even bring it up, Prompto.

He couldn’t even if he wanted to because anything he might have said to the earlier comment or anything, just kind of… died on his lips as he felt Gladio’s brush against his forehead. And he just kind of stared at Gladio’s back, half convinced the kiss hadn’t even happened and he was just imaging things. But still, he could feel the ghost of lips on his skin, could feel something akin to a warmth buried in his chest, and he rubbed at the top of his nose as he shifted his weight and watched Gladio’s back.

“Uh -” no, he’s not going to bring it up, don’t worry, Gladio. Just give him half a second to recover. “I know you would… and I’d be there to take pics because I somehow imagine that would be one priceless expression on the old man’s face if you did,” a bit of a chuckle though it’s a bit shaky.

It’s the first time he’d mentioned taking a picture of anything since - well, since Noct. Which was about the last time he actually ever had too, aside from one seflie Cindy had insisted on when he’d first showed up in Hammerhead. But once she’d seen the way he couldn’t even fake the face for it in the final result she’d never requested again.

"You know, you're not helping if you're trying to make sure I don't do it," Gladio pointed out, hoisting up his pack to his shoulder as if he hadn't done what he'd done seconds before. He brought up his chin, studying Prompto's face, but whatever confusion or surprise that might have been there from his act was already gone. So instead, he gave a little gesture with his elbow out towards the buildings.

"Where have you been staying in all this? In that caravan?" Though he sounded kind of doubtful, as he hadn't seen any real signs of someone living there in the long term. It had been so long since he'd had a place, even something simple, that the idea felt foreign. It also brought up memories of a place that lied, as far as he knew, in ruins back in Insomnia. The library gone to ruins, the very full room of training gear and weaponry covered in dust, the little things left behind he hadn't thought about because he'd be back in just a month or so, why worry?

He tried not to think of anything from home too often, not when that rabbit hole went to so deep.

Like Gladio, Prompto tried not to think too much about Insomnia. Anything he had needed - Noct and a memory card - he had taken with him. There wasn’t much he’d left behind. But the feeling of the place was something to miss. The ease of life there that he had more than taken for granted. He missed the stupid things. Bubble tea, the arcade, that space between the buildings in his apartment complex where the evening sun sunk down and casted reflected light across the walkway. Unlike the others he didn’t really have anyone to miss or grieve. A text message to the people he’d called parents but who never really were in the days after the fall that had gone unanswered and that was that.

“Naw, I’ve got a room behind the garage,” he answered and started them in that direction.

And he missed space. Which was weird since Insomnia was crowded and all buildings going high and stacked close together. But his apartment had been his and had a bedroom, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom all of his own. He opened the door to a room, attached to the main garage building but at least a little private. And it definitely looked like what it was, a work and storage room that had been turned into a living space by necessity. Shelves lined the walls with various items and supplies, a long work bench against the back that had a few ongoing projects of Prompto’s along with binders stacked up high: labels in his writing indicating they were records of different kinds of supplies. A queen mattress (shamelessly stolen from a motel in one of the outposts gone under) had been placed on the floor, and a few duffle bags that were the extent of Prompto’s personal belongings next to it.

“Home sweet home?” he half said, half asked with a little laugh and a shrug. He moved to lean back against the work bench and suddenly realized that this kind of looked like he was indicating Gladio should stay here. Which - he wasn’t entirely opposed to he found, but also felt like maybe that wasn’t what Gladio wanted and really things were easier before they had slept together. “I - uh -” a rub of his hand against the back of his neck. “I could probably find you a room somewhere else too, or some of the hunters crash in the back of Takka’s…” the sort of unspoken if you wanted lingered after his words. "Or here works," a shrug. He was terrible at this.

There was so much that Gladio missed, and so much that he did everything in his power not to linger on. This was a man who had not grieved for what he had lost, not yet, not when their mission was still on going and he had so much that still needed to be done. He was well aware that when it finally all broke, it would shatter like a dropped plate and his ability to pick up the pieces and glue them back together would be as destroyed as the rest of him. So, instead, he followed his father's advice - keep those emotions behind him, beneath him, until the mission was over, and only then allow yourself to experience them.

That sort of mentality was never meant for a mission that went this many years, but for a man who lived for another, who breathed his duty and put it above all else, it was the only thing he had left to cling to when failure otherwise loomed.

He looked around the room slowly, realizing it was something so much more permanent than anything he had known in years, and felt a mix of sad amusement over it. It worked, really. That was all that was needed, and for someone like Gladio who didn't stay in any one place for long, it seemed like a damn good place for now. The mattress looked like an unexpected luxury.

"You inviting me to stay, Prom?" The sideways glance look in the blond carefully, trying to read his body language. Awkward, unsure as he had always been. Yet... why was Prompto offering? Was it all because of last night, or because he thought Gladio would just up and leave? The memory of Prompto's face tucked into his chest lingered at the back of his eyes, as did the feelings it cropped up just beyond the forehead pressed to his jacket.

Was he? He honestly didn’t know. Maybe. The trouble was Prompto had never been that good at figuring out what he wanted. Hadn’t been since the day Luna’s letter had found him and he’d started to revolve his entire life around Noctis. But he knew there was a tightness that clenched at his chest at the idea of Gladio not being there. Even if he couldn’t pinpoint why it mattered so much.

He pushed himself off the bench and moved closer. A shrug of shoulders as he looked up at Gladio. “I guess? Maybe?” Fuck why was he so bad at this.

Prompto paused for a moment and then fell back into something he was at least slightly less bad at. Stepped a foot between Gladio’s, hands sliding behind his hips as he leaned up to drag his mouth across Gladio’s neck. “I mean, if you wanted…” effectively giving up having to make the decision himself.

Hello there. Seemed to Gladio like Prompto had made the decision himself. A part of him wanted to mutter that Prompto didn't need to sweeten the pot or anything, but well, fuck. Maybe they both needed the physicality of it. So instead he only gave a quiet huff of a laugh, bringing a hand up to the back of Prompto's head and sliding his fingers through the softness of his hair. "Sure. Means you'll have to keep sharing the bed, though." Spoken like it would be a problem, but well aware it wouldn't be for either of them. It had been easier to fall asleep with Prompto on his chest than it had been for years of sleeping alone.

"Tell you what. Show me somewhere I can get a shower around here, and I'll give you a massage to try and help out with some of that limp." Smirk. He knew damn well he was being a bit of an asshole and it was a flex of his ego but at the same time, it was a stroke across the tentative re-connection they had made together through a single mutual need.

He laughed at the comment because really… it was so Gladio and it actually felt kind of nice. Normal somehow. Even if none of this was. There was even a blush, high across his cheeks at having been called out over his probably fairly noticeable gait that day. “Ass…” he murmured against Gladio's skin, though his tone was far from biting.

He pulled back, slipped hands into his pockets and looked up at Gladio with a smile. “But I'd never say no to a massage,” he added. Who would really.

Prompto opened the door to his room and nodded to the stairs down the hall. “First door on the left,” he instructed Gladio. Anyone who would use that particular washroom was already milling about in other places for the day so Gladio shouldn't run into anyone. “Should be towels and everything up there.”

"Yeah, already got yours." Complete with a squeeze. No, not a damn bit of this was normal, not even before Noct had been taken from them, but... hell. If none of it was normal, then that was the new normal and Gladio was just going to go with it. What else could he do? He'd been doing it for so many years now, the constant changing and yet the horrible constant of the darkness, of his anger and hurt.

He snagged his pack and opened it, after Prompto showed him the way, and grabbed something out of it - a flash of what might have been soap, and of all things, a straight razor. "Shit, a clean towel? Must be my lucky day."

But he only got a few steps towards the door before, without even looking back, he offered, "hey, Prom. ...Just how big is that shower, anyway?"

Somehow Gladio with a straight razor seemed fitting. Conjured up all kinds of images of rugged manliness that more than suited Gladio. It was kind of hot really.

He smirked a little at the invitation wrapped up in the question. “Big enough,” he answered, his tone a bit amused. “Why, you looking for some company there, big guy?” but the question was rhetorical at best as Prompto had already moved to follow Gladio.

Straight razor was a hell of a lot easier to keep than any kind of electric or disposable one in this hellhole of a land anymore, and besides he could not only keep it sharp, clean, and oiled better... it could be a weapon, if he needed. It'd happened once. Some hunters had no morals left in them.

"Might be. Depends on if that company can wash my back for me or not." Gladio laughed as he led the way, and the moment Prompto was also inside the bathroom and the door was shut, he turned, captured the other's chin in a hand, then his lips in a kiss. Briefly, but firm, before Gladio smirked.

That was all before he started to test out the water, seeing if he was lucky enough to get a hot shower for the first time in a damn long time.

He grinned a bit cheekily at the words as he followed Gladio. “I might be willing to wash more than that,” brows raised with a smirk of his own before Gladio captured his mouth in that kiss. There was the smallest little whimper as Gladio pulled away, hating the loss of contact.

He leaned over Gladio and adjusted the tap to the magic spot that would keep the water running hot. “It's kind of finicky,” he explained, “I got the hot water tanks to run off the generator but it only seems to like that specific spot.” A shrug as he finished.

Prompto tugged his shirt off and let it fall to the ground. His expression faltered for a moment as fingers ran over the fresh scars on his side. The vivid reminder that it had been damn close. Too close.

Gladio looked back and there were words on his lips to comment that Prompto was looking good - and honestly he had filled out that scrawny body really well - when he saw that expression change. Shit. He shifted to reach over, grasping Prompto's wrist and brought up the fingers that had touched the scars, touching his lips to them before his hand covered the scars himself. "You're still here." Very quiet yet firm, looking Prompto in the eyes if he could meet them. Too close, but Prompto was alive.

He nudged Prompto towards the water, thinking that he could get the other's mind off the near-death experience. Who didn't like a bit of fun up against a shower wall?

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