Chapter Text
Six above, he was sore.
“Fucking hell.” The prince sat on one of the plastic lawn chairs in front of Wiz’ camper, head thrown back at the dusky sky. Life on the run from an empire out for your blood didn’t leave much leisure time. Short of one of Vyv’s photo out-of-the-way requests that took days to reach, it was back to back monster hunts and some (unsavory) deliveries for Dave. That also meant little to no time to himself. The exhaustion caught up with all of them sooner or later and along the way, they’d developed their own ways of blowing off steam; Gladio would rise with the sun to go on an hour-long morning run, Ignis would sometimes wake up even earlier than normal to run through his yoga stretches and even Prompto would head out to a more secluded area, be it the woods or mountains, with his sketchpad. They all had an escape from it all that was perfectly natural and even admirable.
For Noctis, however, his method of relief had to be kept under wraps. It wasn’t like he could just causally relieve the pressure in his chest with the others within sight or earshot. Only Ignis had ever seen him that vulnerable, back when he was first learning how to use the pump. The day after he’d turned fourteen, he’d hidden himself away in his room and called Ignis for help, his father too busy with a meeting that day. When his advisor managed to excuse himself from one of his tutor’s watchful eye and make his way to the prince’s room, the door was opened to reveal Noctis with his face completely flushed in embarrassment, the front of his gray t-shirt soaked through. The two of them must have set a world record with the number of awkward glances at breakfast the next morning, all the while as his dad attempted to alleviate some of the embarrassment with tales of his first time pumping. He learned things about his father that day that he could’ve gone and entire lifetime not knowing. He didn’t want to hear about how sore his dad’s nipples were the next day! He TRULY didn’t want to hear how Clarus was the one to stumble upon his father attempting to relieve the pressure himself when he’d first started. Such a secret was traditionally kept within the family, but given the proximity of the citadel, shields and advisors to the king had sometimes discovered it through accidental discoveries or when a trusted person was needed. So far, Ignis was the only person of his personal court that knew. The advisor had, on multiple occasions, made the comment that telling his best friend wouldn’t result in nearly as horrid a response as he was expecting.
The prince respectfully disagreed on all occasions.
The way his dad explained it, because the crystal served as a bridge between the gods and kings, allowed for a level of influence on the kings that were exposed directly to its magic. One of the old kings was apparently unsavory enough of a man that had little respect for women to bring the wrath of one of the gods themselves. Leviathan was far from the most forgiving of the Astrals so she had taken matters into her own hands…fins. Thus, every male of the Lucis line had been cursed with the same ability to produce breast milk as soon as puberty hit. For him that meant that, on a monthly cycle, his body would produce milk just as a woman would.
Of course, without a baby to feed, said milk currently had nowhere to go. That’s what his pump was for. The same pump that was left behind in Hammerhead because Gladio thought it would be a brilliant idea to simply toss him into the car without actually waking him up. The same pump that he really really needed right now.
Sounds drifting from the path leading up to the camper signaled Prompto and Gladio’s return from turning in a hunt to Wiz. As their voices reached him, he could see that they had continued their day-long debate on the benefits of dipping pretty much everything in a spicy sauce.
“Come on, squirt. In what world would a spicy orange be good? Those things already have enough acid in them, and you want to add peppers to that?” Gladio shook his head in disbelief. “Your ass must hate you for what you put it through.”
The blond gunner stared at the shield in what could only be described as betrayal. “My ass is fine, thank you very much!” Prompto’s hands were on his hips at this point. “Sweet and sour from the orange, and add spicy, simple. Noct, back me up here, buddy!”
He’d already drowned out the conversation, instead choosing to focus on not rubbing at his chest in front of them. He looked up from the ground just in time to see Prompto throw himself down onto the lawn chair across to table from him. Gladio was seated next to him and was scrolling through something on his phone, probably one of his ebooks. “Huh? Oh yeah, totally.” 'What the hell did I just agree to?'
“You okay, dude? You’re kinda paler than me right now and well, yeesh.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Just tired, long day, you know?”
The slightly crestfallen look Prompto gave him suggested that he wasn’t convinced in the slightest. He knew he was being lied to. And that was a field Noctis was never able to cross. Guilt began to crawl its way up his throat. He had to leave. He had to leave before he spewed out every secret he’d ever kept, just to get rid of the look on the gunner’s face. It wasn’t fair how easily he could be manipulated by those bright eyes alone.
Before he could make his escape, Prompto stood from his chair and stretched, arms reaching high above his head. The stretch caused the maroon tank top to ride up his torso, revealing a stripe of the milky skin of his stomach. The fading light of the day made it difficult to see the silvery marks that he’d known about for the past three years, but was more than enough to pick up on the black in of the little crescent moon tattoo on his left hip. The image brought back the knowledge of the tiny matching sun that rested on his own right hip, just above the bone. A wild night of their high school days had resulted in Prompto sneaking a couple of bottles off his dad’s wine rack. Neither of them remembered what led up to the decision to get the marks, but they both agreed they were cool looking so fuck it.
“I think I’m gonna go tell the chocobo’s goodnight. Wanna come with, Noct?”
Oh perfect, when the hell did Ignis teach Prompto his ‘I’m not gonna make you, but I’ll be very disappointed in you if you don’t’ tone? That tone was mostly saved for overriding his decisions to push himself pass his limits and taking medicine. Now, Prompto held that power over him and the blond was out for answers. ‘No choice then, huh? I could probably play it off as exhaustion? He'd buy it, right?’ It wouldn’t actually be a lie. They’d been running back and forth between missions all week and it was beginning to show in all of them. Sometimes steps faltered in battle, sometimes a warp overshot by a few feet.
“I guess so. I bet they already miss their long lost brother, huh?” He attempted to joke himself out of trouble, but the effect was ruined by the sudden reminder of the building pressure in his chest as he stood. A low groan escaped before he could stop it, though not nearly low enough to slip past both Prompto and Gladio. As Prompto’s slight glare hardened further, Gladio looked up from his phone, eyebrow raising in curiosity. “The hell’s up with you? Pull a muscle doing absolutely nothing?” the smirk on his face did nothing to calm Noctis’ nerves.
“Shut it, noodle boy.”
From the open door of the camper, Ignis’ head poked out and gave a word of warning, “Now boys, no need to be hostile. If you two are going for a walk, be wary. There are indeed lights surrounding the post, but one can never be too careful.” The words were followed by an expression Noctis was far too accustomed to, silently asking if he was okay. Noctis sent back a nod in acknowledgement of the warning, but also one meant to assure his condition. He’d be fine. He just had to find a way to deal with his stupid curse, and never speak of the situation to anybody again. Ever.
“C’mon Noct! I wanna see the babies before they go to sleep!” Noctis looked away from the still wary advisor to see Prompto bouncing on his heels a couple of yards away from the camper, as if he’d considered leaving Noctis behind. 'Maybe he does just want to see chocobos and not grill me?' He’d once been the victim of an interrogation from Prompto and it was horrific. About three years into their friendship, he made the mistake of offhandedly mentioning that the citadel had its own arcade built into one of the rec rooms that all staff had access to. The fallout form that slip-up resulted in nearly an entire day of the cold shoulder, a look of pure betrayal whenever the blond spared him a glance, followed by the most guilt filled questioning of his life. Why wouldn’t you tell me, Noct? I thought we…I thought we had something, man. If that had been over an arcade, how bad would keeping a physical condition from him be?
It was as the two were approaching the pens that held the large bards that Prompto took a sharp turn towards the main road. Without even looking to make sure Noctis was following him, Prompto continued to the fenced-in area where he finally halted and glanced back with an expectant look. “Well? Hurry up, Noct.”
Weren’t they headed to the pens just a second ago? What was across the road that…oh. He got tricked, didn’t he? Somehow, he’d gotten separated from the distractions of the post and now there was no buffer between him and getting an interrogation now. 'Okay, stay calm. He still doesn’t actually know what’s going on, you still have a chance to just play it off.'
“Um, hey I thought we were gonna see the chocobos? It’s kinda late too, not enough light.”
“I thought of something better to do. We’re not going far, anyway.” His posture as he leaned against the fence was completely relaxed and confident. He knew Noctis didn’t have a way out of this without turning into a pile of awkward excuses. “I promise we won’t go far, trust me.” There were the eyes again. The ‘I’m your best friend in the whole world, you can’t tell me no’ eyes.
He was trapped between a rock and a hard place with no escape. Shoulders slumping, Noctis heaved a sigh of defeat and joined Prompto at the fence line. “Fine, but if Ignis fines out about any of this, it’s on you, got it?” It was one thing to not pay attention when Ignis was giving orders, but to outright defy them spelled dire consequences bordering on mental torture, and Noctis was NOT in the mood for either.
Prompto draped an arm around Noctis’ shoulders, walking them both off to cross the road to the very edge of the trees. They were still illuminated by the large floodlights Wiz used to protect his birds and their rays extended about ten yards into the woods themselves. It was enough to deter any creatures of the night away from the area before they got anywhere near the post. When they made it to the first line of trees, Prompto stopped and glanced back towards the camper where they could see both Gladio and Ignis were inside, a smirk on his lips.
“Oh, Ignis doesn’t have to know a thing, buddy.”