Actions

Work Header

From Pain to Joy

Work Text:

Prompto worked hard, harder than anyone else worked in the Crownsguard. He knew that he was petite, too skinny, too weak. He knew that anyone could hurt him at the simple flick of their wrist, putting the prince in danger. And he knew that the likelihood of Cor ever approving of him was slim to none.

It didn’t help that the more and more he trained at the Citadel grounds, the more he developed a crush on the Immortal Cor Leonis. Prompto wasn’t entirely sure when it happened, but he knew that it was a strong and hard crush that just wouldn’t go away. The more time he spent practicing, talking to the Lord Marshal, even texting Cor, the more he wanted to impress him and steal his heart.

Yet Prompto also knew that he was himself, a person not worthy of love in the slightest. There was a less than zero percent chance of him doing anything to impress the Lord Marshal, especially since he barely got by as it was. As much as he wanted to blame it on things like not eating, having abusive parents, and being neglected, Prompto knew that he was just inadequate overall. After all, he wouldn’t have been abused or neglected if he was worth anything in the first place.

Sitting on the bench in front of his locker at the Citadel training grounds locker room, Prompto looked at his bank account balance, hoping beyond hope for the day that he could move out of his parents’ house. He was of age already, but he still had to save to get out of there. Besides, there were enough bruises on him already from practice; he didn’t need the ones from his mom and dad as well. 

“Oh look,” a Crownsguard cadet said as he sauntered into the locker room, surrounded by all of his friends. “The Nif and the prince’s cock warmer.”

This was something else Prompto hated entirely. Technically, he was just training with the cadets, already accepted to the prince’s retinue since Noctis was his best friend. The others hated him for it, having to prove their worth to get in instead of proving their worth because they wanted to. To make it worse, they hated that he was from Niflheim, adopted by a family in Lucis.

“He’s not just the prince’s now,” his friend teased. “He’s the Lord Marshal’s pet .”

“How many guys are you going to fuck until you get what you want, huh?” the first guy asked, kicking the other end of the bench Prompto was sitting on. It shifted it a bit, making Prompto nearly fall off. He gripped the side of the bench in an effort to hang on, but the moment it stopped he stood up.

“I’m not fucking anyone,” Prompto argued, backing up against the locker as they approached him. The leader of the group pushed him against the lockers, making them clatter. Prompto dropped his phone, and the guy picked it up. No. Anything but that.

The cadet and ringleader of the group looked at it, laughing. “Oh look. The Nif freak took photos of the Lord Marshal when he wasn’t looking. What’s this? You have his phone number ? And you’ve been texting ?! Wow, what a fucking slut.”

“Please, just give it back,” Prompto pleaded, knowing that it wasn’t going to help at all. Bullies never listened. “I only text him for help with different techniques for training.”

“Sure you do,” the guy laughed. “Then why is the Lord Marshal asking how you’re doing and what you do in your free time? I bet he’s gotten a taste of that Nif ass and can’t get enough.”

“It’s not like that,” Prompto said desperately, knowing that no matter how many times he had a casual conversation with Cor that it wouldn’t end in a romance.

He had been lucky enough to get Cor’s phone number since he was part of Noctis’ retinue. One day, he accidentally texted him and ended up starting a conversation. From there, they talked almost every day, whether it was about fighting techniques or just to talk. It made him giddy every time, even though he knew it was a one sided love. As idiotic as Prompto knew he was, he was grateful that Cor indulged him and spoke to him, even telling him about his life. With this random guy looking at his phone, he felt like he was betraying Cor’s trust.

“Hmm… Why don’t we spice things up a bit?” the guy asked with an ugly, wicked grin. He began to type into the phone then read it aloud. “‘I’m super horny for you. Let me fuck you tonight.’ Sounds good?”

“Stop,” Prompto begged. “I could lose my job in the prince’s retinue.”

“I hope so.” The guy smiled at him as he sent the text. Prompto’s heart fell, and his cheeks burned red as tears came to his eyes. “What? Poor baby Nif is crying? Not yet, you’re not.”

Before Prompto had a chance to move, the guy punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him entirely as pain exploded in his abdomen. He doubled over and was met with a knee to his forehead, his vision going blank as he wound up sprawled on the floor. There was the sound of the bench moving, as he opened his eyes. With a kick to his ribs, there was laughter around him as the guy continued to beat him up.

“Stop,” Prompto wheezed, his lungs feeling like they were about to explode. 

Instead of stopping, the cadet crouched down, pulling on his hair tightly as he forced him to look him in the eye. “You will never be anything more than a whorish punching bag, Nif. Get the fuck out of the Citadel and never come back. In fact, get the fuck out of Insomnia and go back to Niflheim, you scum.”

The cadet punched Prompto in the eye then in the cheek. Prompto blacked out for a long moment, awaking to the feeling of several legs kicking him. His mouth was bloody, his eye swelling shut, and everything hurt more than he could handle. All he wanted was to go about his life, be in Noct’s retinue, and love Cor from afar. Yet now he feared for his life, and he knew that if they kept going he would die.

“Dude, stop hurting him!” one of his friends said, pulling the leader back before he killed Prompto. “You’ll kill him, man!”

“He would like that,” the guy said, shrugging off his friend. He grabbed the phone and tossed it over to Prompto, breaking the screen as it landed on the floor. Finally, he spit on him, just barely getting on his shirt instead of his face. “Let’s just leave him here to rot. And don’t fucking come back, Nif.”

There was the sound of laughter as they walked away, leaving Prompto on his own. He wheezed his breath as he tried to open his eyes. One was entirely swollen shut but he managed to open the other. Weakly, he reached out for his phone, trying to do anything he could with the broken screen to get help. Looking at the screen, he noticed the text from Cor, his heart falling and sinking faster and faster.

 

[Cor: Prompto? Are you okay?]

 

Weakly, Prompto managed to unlock his phone with a bloody finger, the red smearing on the screen as it cut him. It hurt to move, but he knew that if he did nothing then he would be left there to die. There was no telling if he had any internal bleeding, and Prompto didn’t want to wait for a stranger to pass him by. Plus it was getting hard to breathe.

 

[Prompto: Locker room. Help]

 

Prompto barely got the text typed and sent before he lost consciousness, succumbing to the pain and wounds.

 


 

“Prompto!” Cor called out, rousing Prompto from unconsciousness. Pain exploded all over his body as he struggled to open one eye, so tired and so pained. “Prompto! Stay with me!”

“Mmn,” Prompto groaned, the pain too intense to really say much more. Cor looked at him in concern, but Pormpto was too delirious to understand why he was so upset.

“Who did this to you?” Cor asked, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. Prompto only let out another grunt, too tired to say much else. He tried to breathe, but it felt like he was struggling. With a cough, blood stained his lips. “I need medics immediately to the men’s training ground locker room. One of prince Noctis’ retinue has been attacked and is severely wounded.”

When Cor ended the call, Prompto let out another aching wheeze, knowing that something was definitely wrong. It hurt to breathe, and he felt like he couldn’t get enough air. Desperately, he tried to tell Cor that it hurt, but no sound other than a gurgling moan came out, blood spattering the ground from his lips.

“I’m sorry, Prom,” Cor said as he took out something in his pocket, unzipping it and taking out some utensils that he didn’t recognize. “This is going to hurt, but then you’ll be able to breathe easier.”

Cor lifted Prompto’s shirt, exposing his new wounds as well as the old bruises and scars. He looked startled at first, but then a moment later he refocused. With a swift motion, he cut into Prompto’s skin then punctured the rest with the device, making Prompto wince, unable to cry out. A moment later, he suddenly felt like he could breathe. 

“Your lung collapsed and your other lung is filling with blood,” Cor explained when Prompto looked at him quizzically. 

There was a commotion as the medics from the Citadel infirmary rushed in to help. Prompto weakly reached out for Cor, not wanting to be left alone if these were his final moments. Cor took Prompto’s bloody hand within his own, looking at him with a desperation that he never saw before.

“Hold on for me, Prom,” Cor said as the medics rushed over to him. “Hold on. I need you to live. Can you do that?”

Prompto gave a weak nod. Quickly, the medics lifted him onto the stretcher and immediately began assessing him as they rushed him towards the infirmary. Cor was by him the entire time, passerbys looking at them in worry and surprise. It likely looked as if he got back from a battle, not like he got horribly attacked by the very men who were supposed to protect all those in Insomnia.

“Hold on, Prom,” Cor said once they were in the infirmary, taken to a private room where they began to assess things. They had to prepare him for surgery; that much, Prompto was aware of. It worried him, but all he could do was look at Cor in pain and fear. “It’s okay, Prom. I’m here for you. I promise.”

Within seconds, Prompto was being administered anesthesia. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness as he stared at Cor desperately, hoping beyond hope that he could survive this attack.

 


 

Cor sat next to Prompto’s bedside, staring at him as he remained asleep after the surgery. The internal bleeding had been severe, his emaciated body making it easier for those who attacked him. Every rib in his torso was broken, his eye socket shattered and repaired with surgery, and his superficial wounds were far too numerous. It looks like he had been hit by a car, not attacked by others in the place that was supposed to be the safest building in Insomnia.

The beeping of the machines was monotonous, a positive sign that at least Prompto’s vitals were good. Why had this happened? As much as Cor wanted answers, he promised Prompto that he would be by his side the entire time. He wasn’t about to go back on his promise now. Not when he had a feeling that his conversations with him were one of the reasons why he was attacked.

The moment that Cor met Prompto, introduced to him as the prince’s final addition to his retinue, he had been struck by how gorgeous he was. During training, he had kept a careful eye on him, noticing how he worked hard but got exhausted too easily, as if he wasn’t eating enough or getting enough sleep. In an effort to connect with him more to understand what the issue was - or at least he told himself it was for that reason - he surreptitiously asked Noctis to give Prompto his phone number.

Through their conversations, Cor got the sense that Prompto was suffering from something behind the scenes, but he never explicitly stated what it was. It was as if he was afraid of telling him the truth behind his suffering. Perhaps Cor shouldn’t have texted Prompto, since he talked to him so regularly that he felt himself falling for the guy he was supposed to be training.

Cor looked forward to talking to Prompto, finding himself smiling at the hilarious puns that he offered, the serious conversations they had, and the beautiful photos that he took. It made him smile far more than anything else ever could, and he found himself seeking out his conversations with Prompto, often texting him in the morning just to see how he was doing when he got up. 

It was the first time in Cor’s life that he ever felt something so strong for anyone, and it scared him that it was Prompto. There was a huge age gap between them, and Prompto deserved to be with someone his own age. It was why he never asked Prompto on a date, something he was now regretting.

At one point, he thought about building himself up to asking, especially since Prompto seemed to indicate he wanted to go on a date with him. But then he never did, so when he got the text from Prompto asking him to fuck him, Cor knew something was off. Prompto never texted like that, and he got the sense that the blond was always too shy and afraid to even ask for a walk in the park or a coffee date, let alone sex.

Now, Cor wished that he had done a better job of protecting him. If others saw how close they were in time, of course it would become a point of contention. He just never expected it to come to something as dangerous as this. Staring at Prompto now, asleep and with an oxygen mask, he wondered if maybe he needed to back off entirely.

“There he is,” a voice said in the doorway of the private infirmary room. Cor turned and looked at the two adults, a man and a woman with brown hair and green eyes. They looked nothing like Prompto, yet he had shown Cor a photo of his parents. I wish I could make them proud of me. I thought joining Noct’s retinue would do it, but idk anymore. Cor remembered those texts and immediately stood up.

“Can I help you?” Cor asked formally, pretending he didn’t know who they were.

“Yes, we’re the boy’s adoptive parents,” Mr. Argentum said. Cor noticed the way he put distance between himself and Prompto with his words. “What has he done now?”

“What has he done?” Cor asked in disbelief. “Nothing. He was attacked.”

Mrs. Argentum made a scoffing noise, as if that didn’t excuse Prompto from dragging them to the Citadel. Cor looked over at the sleeping man, and he instinctively walked over to him and grabbed his bandaged hand, taking it within his own. With a solemn kiss on the only space of Prompto’s hand that wasn’t bandaged, Cor made a vow then and there. I won’t ever let you get hurt again. Not by them. Not by anyone.

“I’m sure he did something to provoke it,” Mrs. Argentum said. “It’s just like high school all over again. Not even the prince could stop him from being so inadequate and getting himself bullied.”

“The discipline seems to have failed too,” Mr. Argentum added with a frown. “Even now. It will be a great inconvenience to us to have him stay with us going forward. We’re never home, so he’ll have to find his own help or accommodations.”

“What kind of parents are you?” Cor demanded, nearly growling in his roiling anger. They looked at him in shock as he turned to them furiously. “He nearly died and you’re talking about how he’s an inconvenience ?! No wonder Prompto’s trying to get away from you two!”

“And who do you think you are to tell us how to parent?!” Mrs. Argentum nearly screeched, her voice turning shrill in her indignation.

“I’m the fucking Lord Marshal of Lucis,” Cor replied, glaring at them. The Argentums startled, as if they didn’t realize that they were in his presence. “You know what? Just go. If he’s that much of an inconvenience to you, I’ll take him home where he’ll be loved and well cared for.”

“Loved?” Mr. Argentum asked, his voice haughty. “But he’s a Nif. What kind of love does he deserve?”

“More love than abusive assholes like you deserve,” Cor shot back. “Now go. Before I have security called on you two for trespassing. I’ll send someone to collect his effects.”

“You- You can’t!” Mrs. Argentum tried, but Mr. Argentum was quick to whisper in her ear.

“We’ll finally get rid of him this way,” he whispered. Cor rounded on them, ready to attack. Just at that moment, Clarus stepped into the room, large, hulking, and very very intimidating.

“Is there an issue here?” Clarus demanded, his voice calm but menacing. “The king is on his way, and I need to secure the room.”

“We were just leaving,” Mrs. Argentum said, her expression fearful. “Send someone for his belongings. It’s not much. We’ll have them put in trash bags on the porch.”

They left before Cor could say anything else, clearly scrambling away before they could put themselves in any further danger. There were still some aspects of Cor’s temper that would never be contained, particularly when he saw others were treated so poorly. What had Prompto dealt with in his life for so long? Did he suffer in silence, or did Noctis know about it?

“Cor,” Regis said as he stepped into the room with Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio in tow. Prompto’s friends were immediately by his bedside, the prince shedding several tears for his friend. Even Ignis and Gladio looked horrified. “Clarus looked at the tapes and identified the culprits. They’ve been arrested and are awaiting charges for attempted murder.”

“Good,” Cor said, looking at Prompto, who seemed to be stirring a bit. He rushed over to his side, gripping his hand firmly but not so tightly, careful of his injuries. “Prompto?”

“Mmnn,” Prompto groaned, wincing in pain. His vitals spiked and within seconds a nurse was in the room.

“Prompto,” the nurse said, grabbing a button and handing it to Prompto in his free hand. “This is a pain button. Press it any time you’re in pain and it will help.”

Cor watched as Prompto hit the button in his hand immediately, and within seconds he was calming down, the pain receding. He was still awake, though, and everyone waited with bated breath to see if he would awaken entirely or go back to sleep. Cor just wanted him to get better, his heart aching for him each and every second.

“Hey, man,” Noctis said on the other side of the bed, the nurse leaving the room. “You can sleep if you need to. We’re here. Cor’s here. No one’s going anywhere.”

“Cor?” Prompto asked, his voice hoarse from having a breathing tube down his throat. He coughed a bit then let out a small cry of pain, pressing the pump again. With a few heaving breaths, he spoke again. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Noctis asked him. “None of this is your fault.”

“Mmnn,” Prompto replied. There were tears streaming down his face, and Cor couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or some internal torment that he was fighting. 

“It’s okay, Prom,” Cor said softly, leaning forward and kissing his forehead, his hand running through the beautiful blond hair. His broken eye socket was bandaged, his torso heavily wrapped, and his hands and arms wrapped from minor injuries. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to take care of you from now on.”

“Thank you,” Prompto managed to say his breathing clearly labored from the pain of everything. “Thank you, Cor… Love…”

Prompto fell asleep before he could finish what he was saying. Cor looked up at Noctis, who had the same pained expression that matched the despair and painful ache in his heart. Noctis ran his hand over his own face then looked at Cor.

“What happened?” Noctis asked. “Last he texted me, he was done with training and going to come chill at my place.”
“I received a text that was very obviously not from him,” Cor said, preferring to keep the content of the text quiet until necessary. “I asked if he was okay, and he texted back that he needed help in the locker room. When I found him… he was drowning from his lung filling with blood and the other was collapsed. I had to cut into him to help him breathe.”

“Six Astrals,” Ignis whispered, his hand over his mouth. “Why would anyone do this?”

“I was there for the police interrogation,” Clarus said, his expression grim. “They seemed to think that almost killing a Nif was acceptable. They also accused him of whoring himself into the prince’s good graces, as well as the Lord Marshal’s. It was nothing but a hate crime.”

“Prompto? A whore?” Gladio asked gruffly with a scoff that barely contained his anger. “He’s probably the furthest thing from that. I don’t even think he’s had a boyfriend before.”

“He hasn’t,” Noctis said. It was news to Cor. Prompto was so beautiful that he could have sworn that men and women flocked to him. Then again, Prompto had hinted in texts that he never dated in his life. He should’ve picked up on it then. “Not for lack of trying from all the guys that constantly crush on him. But he’s never felt worthy enough to be in a relationship like that.”

“I prepare to prove him otherwise then,” Cor said, looking at Prompto as he slept. He didn’t care who he told now; Prompto was the love of his life, and after almost losing him he wasn’t going to let him go. Sitting down in the chair next to Prompto’s bed, he held onto the blond’s hand, waiting for him to wake. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving his side. I made him that promise.”

“I understand,” Clarus said with a nod. “I’ll handle training the recruits and bring you your laptop and work.”

Cor nodded in understanding. “Thank you.”

Noctis sat down on the other side, the two of them waiting for Prompto to awaken once more.

 


 

 Prompto awakened to the sound of typing, his body in a pain that he never before felt. When he pressed the pain pump he was given, it flowed through his system making him feel better, but he was still alert. He couldn’t open one eye, but the other was blurry when he opened it. Blinking a few times, he turned his head and noticed that Cor was sitting next to him, typing something on his laptop.

“Cor?” Prompto asked, his voice coming out as barely more than a whisper. Cor didn’t hear him, so he tried again. “Cor?”

Cor startled, looking up at Prompto with a concern that made him feel incredibly guilty. “Hey Prom… How are you feeling?”

“Like I almost died,” Prompto said, offering a weak smile. He vaguely recalled Cor coming into the locker room, saving him. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You saved your own life when you texted me,” Cor replied softly. He smiled at him then looked concerned again. “Your parents stopped by.”

“Oh no,” Prompto whispered, tears coming to his eyes. It was painful in the eye that was bandaged, and he pressed the pain pump again, the pain meds flowing through him. “They’re going to be so mad. Please tell them I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need,” Cor said. “I told them that you’re coming to live with me from here on out. I already have your belongings at my place. Well, our place.”

“What?” Prompto asked, his guilt growing. “You didn’t have to. I’m sorry to inconvenience you. I promise I’ll do all the chores. I’ll sleep on the couch or on the floor. Whatever you need.”

“Prompto…” Cor said with a sigh. Prompto winced as if he had been struck, knowing that whatever came next was likely a painful rejection, a need for him to find his own space as soon as possible. “You will do nothing of the sort. I want you to heal, that’s it.”

“Once I heal, I’ll be gone,” Prompto promised him, knowing that he was going to inconvenience the guy he liked more than he wanted to. The guy already saved his life; what else did Prompto need to take from him?

“I hope not,” Cor said, surprising Prompto. He took Prompto’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the small area of skin that wasn’t bandaged. “I want you to live with me, Prompto. As my boyfriend, my lover… whatever you want to call it. The point is, I waited too long to tell you how much I want you and love you, and I almost lost you. I’m never going to let that happen again.”

Boyfriend? Lover? Cor… Cor wanted him? He loved him? This had to be some joke, some way to assure his acquiescence until he got tired of him and kicked him out. Or maybe he was just indulging him until it was time for him to leave.

“I can see your mind searching for some reason why I am telling you this other than accepting that I love you,” Cor said, practically reading his mind. Prompto only felt all the worse for it. “Please just believe me, Prom. I love you. I’m not letting you go.”

Prompto shed a tear out of his working eye, looking at Cor with a strangled sob. “I believe you. I love you too.”

Cor spent the next hour telling him all the ways in which he was loved, patiently waiting when Prompto’s tears became too much.

 


 

Recovery was a slow going process. Prompto spent several months getting back to normal, only to have to go to trial to testify against the people who tried to kill him. The footage said it all though, and Prompto was grateful for the fact that they had cameras in the men’s locker room for this very reason. The cadet that tried to kill him had claimed that Prompto started it, but the footage clearly showed that he had been minding his own business when the group of them walked in.

Ultimately, the cadet who was the main culprit was sentenced to life in prison for attempted murder. The others were sentenced as accessories to attempted murder, earning a reduced sentence for snitching on the primary perpetrator. The only one that got off with just a simple assault and battery was the one who turned in the main cadet and had pulled him off Prompto in the video. 

The trial left Prompto just as traumatized as he was when the attack first happened, and he ended up going to therapy on the Crown’s dime, coping with post-traumatic stress disorder. Even Cor went to therapy, needing the resource since he worked hard to save his lover’s life. The efforts of war and battle were entirely different, in his view, and they had several couple’s counseling sessions to help with their joint pain and trauma.

When Prompto found out that the Argentums were glad to be rid of him, leaving his meager possessions in two large trash bags on their front porch, he felt devastated that he couldn’t find a way to get his own parents to love him. Yet when he explained to Cor the number of scars and bruises he had on his body from them, Cor only asserted that he would be there to protect him through everything and that his parents didn’t deserve him.

Prompto knew he was right, so he was working hard to make his way out of his pain and to the other side to find joy and happiness. Since moving in with Cor, it had been relatively easy, which surprised him entirely. Cor spoiled him, even after he had healed, and the times he tried to help were times that Cor would insist he relax. Eventually, Prompto told him that he wanted to help if he was going to live there, and Cor conceded.

It didn’t mean Cor still didn’t spoil him. Prompto felt like he was loved and wanted for the first time in his life. The Lord Marshal bought him a new wardrobe, a gorgeous new camera, a new phone, and anything else he could’ve wanted. He got him on the Citadel’s insurance as an employee, getting him to the doctor, optometrist, and dentist for more than just his near fatal injuries for the first time since he was a child. Overall, he was emaciated and required vitamin therapy, but Cor was on board for every single treatment. Prompto also ended up with glasses, his eyesight already suffering but the punch to his eye rendering him nearly blind without help.

It was about a year before Prompto found some semblance of peace, a routine that he enjoyed more than he cared to admit. They were both early morning risers, and after a morning run side by side, they enjoyed a hot shower together. Now, Prompto sat at the kitchen table, one foot on the chair, his knee to his chest, as he held a mug of coffee in his hands.

“Are you going to Noct’s today?” Cor asked as he set breakfast in front of Prompto, a specific meal that he had to eat to help with his vitamin deficiencies. Next to his plate was the multitude of vitamin supplements he had to take on top of it, and Prompto always wondered if Cor would ever get tired of helping him. Yet, Cor never complained. Instead, he only ever told Prompto that he was happy to help him and love him.

“Probably Noct ,” Prompto joked, finger gunning at him. “Get it? No?”

Cor snorted in laughter as he grabbed his own plate of the same breakfast and sat next to him. He leaned over and kissed Prompto on the lips, a brief assertion that he loved Prompto still. “If your jokes get any worse, I’ll have to take you to the doctor to determine if it’s a disease.”

“It is unfortunately,” Prompto laughed. “And it’s terminal I’m afraid. There’s no cure.”

“Oh whatever shall we do?” Cor laughed sarcastically. “Guess I just have to love you for the rest of my life.”

“I hope so,” Prompto replied, remembering all the times Cor traced the fine lines of his scars with his lips, holding onto him tightly as he loved him thoroughly throughout the nights. The times he spent in bed, gasping and writhing under Cor, felt like a far fetched dream. Yet it was his reality now, one that involved immeasurable pleasure and joy. “I want to love you forever.”

“I hope so too,” Cor said with a smile. He held out his fist on the table, just by Prompto’s plate. Pulling it away, he revealed a golden band, studded with opals that matched the color of Prompto’s eyes. Prompto looked at it in shock, then looked up at Cor.

“Is this…?” Prompto asked, unable to finish his sentence. What if he was wrong? He didn’t want to make a fool of himself for hoping, dreaming.

“It is,” Cor replied, reading his mind as they often did with each other. “I’m sorry it’s not as glamorous as this could be, but… I’m a simple man as you know. And I simply want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I… I don’t care about anything glamorous,” Prompto told him. He looked at him with a smile. “I just want to marry you, too.”

Cor took the ring then Prompto’s scarred left hand from the attack. Gently, he put the ring on Prompto’s finger, the opal and gold shining like the sun. Before Cor could say anything else, Prompto stood up and straddled him, hugging him and kissing him so fervently his glasses went askew in the process. 

Pulling back, Prompto adjusted his black frames and smiled at Cor, delighting in the feeling of Cor’s hands on his back. “I love you. I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Good,” Cor said with a grin. “Because I plan on never letting you go. I love you too, Prom.”

Cor and Prompto continued to kiss, breakfast long forgotten for the time being.