flamebrand: sousaphone. (84.)
ᴄʟɪᴠᴇ ʀᴏꜱꜰɪᴇʟᴅ. ([personal profile] flamebrand) wrote 2025-09-10 10:49 pm (UTC)

[ Prompto's blush travels all the way to his ear. Clive can taste that flush against his mouth, and he chuckles about it; chuckles a little about the fumbling, too, though not unkindly. it's as cute as everything else about Prompto, and he rewards it with a light nip to cartilage.

he gets the message, loud and clear. sometimes Clive can be slow on the uptake (clearly), but he has a feeling he's not misinterpreting this one.
]

You're fine, [ he assures. not weird in the least, or weird in similarly-weird company. if anything, Clive is the one who insinuated himself into Prompto's space by assuming a lot about his mental state from a simple "yes and no"― someone less inclined to be kind the way Prompto is might have taken the ill-concealed concern as patronization. Clive loves that a little about Prompto, too: that he truly believes in the goodness of Clive's intentions.

even like this, pressed together and trading early-morning kisses. so trusting. let no one ever take advantage of Prompto's heart, Clive thinks.
]

We're aligned, on that front. I'd like all of you. [ tracing Prompto's spine with an index and middle, just for the sake of feeling him. ] Including the things you're reluctant to speak of.

[ only the barest allusion to the possible nightmares; Prompto can interpret this however he wants, because the sentiment is the same: you're lovely, including the parts of you that you think might not be. ]

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