[ right through its fleshy head and through its skull. the shot does its job, though it's by a hair's width that Prompto didn't get bitten in half.
Clive feels his blood run cold at the sight of it; all that blood, and Prompto pinned down by his legs by the creature's massive arm. he relents his hold on the pull of his aether, lets go of bahamut, and sprints towards where Prompto is on the ground with the still-twitching body of the wyvern. sword drawn, slightly pale. ]
Prompto! [ a clean slice through the wyvern's wrist. he severs it, and kicks it aside to give Prompto more room to wriggle. ] Forgive me, I wasn't fast enough－
[ brows furrowed, arm extended in offering. blue eyes flick nervously over the breadth of him, trying to gauge anything that might be immediately serious; even if he doesn't spot anything visibly, he crouches down and tries to make the executive decision to heft Prompto up into his arms. ]
[ the panic dulls with clive's voice, swallowing to calm the hammering of his heart as something gives and the weight seems to lift from his lower half. he kicks at the sliced limb and grips hard at clive, using that leverage to finally free himself from beneath such a massive weight.
his head is swimming, everything thrown into high gear. ]
I'm good, I'm good. [ it's a reassuring mumble, though he barely has any thoughts in his head. ] Not the worst that's ever happened...
[ he leans into clive for a moment, sucking in a sharp breath as he tries to stand, but the discomfort in his legs is immediate. almost unbearable, even worse than the embarrassment of having to be carried, if clive decides to pick him up, prompto won't put up too much protest. ] I've got potions in my bag, [ he attempts to add helpfully, hoping none of the bottles had gotten smashed. or maybe they had, and they'd kept him from completely biting it. it's hard to tell. ]
[ in this proximity, Clive can feel that full-bodied protest when Prompto tries to put more weight on his legs, and so he makes another executive decision not to let him: the heft becomes a carry in one smooth transition, one arm around Prompto's shoulders, one under the the likely-painful bend of his knees.
"not the worst" isn't particularly reassuring. it would have ruined Clive if the worst happened to Prompto on his watch. ]
I'll take you somewhere quieter first, [ is calmer than he feels, as he surreptitiously touches the bag against Prompto's hip and finds the fabric of it wet. Clive frowns, but leans in to press his mouth quickly against Prompto's temple as he starts to walk in the direction of the city this time, hesitating only momentarily when he spots a few civilians running towards them to presumably volley questions at them about what happened.
a bit of a nuisance. he tries to avoid them as best he can, holding Prompto close as he fields a few persistent onlookers with terse not now-s and clear the way-s. ]
[ his breath leaves him (again) the moment clive pulls him into his arms, the jar of his body almost too much. it's a strange pain, one that radiates out from his hip—probably because the wyvern had wrecked him with its tail first. the rest of it goes ignored as he keeps a death grip on his gun and the front of clive's shirt, almost holding himself up in a way that will ease the pressure in his spine.
at least he can feel his toes. it's mostly like bruising that will be the issue. ]
There's, uh. They have a hotel, [ prompto tells him, directing clive with the slightest turn of his head. ] Down that street a little to the left. Pretty sure we can get a room.
[ it's where they would have likely stayed anyhow, disliking the useless feeling beginning to settle in his gut the closer they get to their destination. leville hotel is a nice and upscale kind of place, the kind that isn't easily accessible on the road, and it's only after the fussing of the staff and arranging accommodations that prompto finally relents and sags against clive. ]
You're okay, right? [ asked quietly as they head towards the room. ] I don't think it got you, but...
Prompto. [ the tone isn't stern, but it is firm. ] Worry about yourself.
[ as they make themselves up the stairs and around a corner, down the hall to a room at the far end of it. Clive is demonstrably fine: not a nick or scratch on him, much to his shame. never has being uninjured felt like less of a point of pride.
he swings the door to their room open (easily, despite the fact that it momentarily requires him to shift Prompto's weight a little closer to his chest), and Clive is grateful, finally, for the privacy. he makes a beeline for the bed, where he gently, gently settles Prompto onto the mattress with agonizing care. ]
...One of your potions seems to be intact. You should take it― I'll go buy some more.
[ despite his first instinct being to stay close and to kiss Prompto and to apologize. none of those things will help more than being practical, and it burns him more than anything else to see someone he cares for in pain. ]
[ worrying about clive helps him worry less in general, but he manages the slightest nod in response, settling onto the bed with a pained expression. the mattress absorbs some of the discomfort as he tosses his weapon to the other side – never usually so haphazard with his things – and draws the bag over his head, sighing to himself at the state of it.
soaked through with potions (and probably a remedy) but washable.
that's later though, and he offers clive a faint smile. ] Yeah. I'll be here, so...
[ he can manage on his own, some of the shock wearing off and replaced with a gentle sort of urgency to check himself over. prompto does what he can not to get blood all over the top blanket, tugging the bottle out of his temporarily ruined bag and downing it with familiar haste. the effects of it are quick in easing the pain, but considering the extent of the hit he took, it only takes the edge off.
it's enough though; at least, he can test putting weight on his feet because he wants to get out of his shoes and his clothes. which is what he's in the process of doing by the time clive does return to the room, sitting in a chair adjacent the bed and slowly stripping out of his vest and inspecting other parts of himself for lingering damage. ]
[ "i'll be here" is the sort of thing that should exasperate Clive ("do not go anywhere else"), but as it stands, it only makes Clive's heart hurt. his trip out to get the potions is quick and efficient, and he looks a little windswept by the time he returns to the room― as if he's been moving as a brisk trot the entire time (he has).
blue eyes widen as the door closes behind him, and he sighs: ] Prompto. [ he draws near like a maelstrom, putting a hand to his shoulder when he's close enough. ] You should be in bed.
[ sweet, restless thing. he does appreciate that Prompto should be removing some layers, though, so he sighs again and kneels by his feet, helping with the laces to slowly, slowly tug the shoes off. ]
[ is he disappointed? something in prompto tells him clive is disappointed. or worried, though the soft protest sort of dies in his throat the moment clive is in front of him and unlacing his boots. he pauses in his endeavor to remove some of his bracelets and wristbands, staring down at him. ]
I didn't wanna get blood all over where we're supposed to sleep. [ just an explanation, sighing with relief the moment his boots aren't constricting his feet. his legs are beginning to hurt more though. ] Most of it seems to be the daemon's anyway... Good, right? At least it didn't take a chunk outta me.
[ a gentle attempt at humor, and then, he's reaching out to push back some of clive's hair. ] I'm okay, Clive.
[ what Clive should do is offer the other potions in his pack. two of them clink in his hip pouch, which he unclips from his belt once Prompto is relieved of his boots; still, his lips pull into a thin line at the content of the joke offered to him, obviously unhappy that Prompto has to make it at all.
his gaze flicks up when touched. contrition is everywhere on his face: in the slant of his brows, the set of his jaw, how his scar seems to pull at his features. ]
...You were injured because of my incompetence. I've never felt so useless.
[ he takes Prompto's hand, lifting it from his hair to press his lips against the back of it, head bowed. ]
Forgive me. ...Thank the Founder for your competence.
It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes things like that happen.
[ with his other hand, prompto continues to tease at clive's chaotic hair, tucking some of it behind an ear. there's more he should say, he knows that, but clive is looking for some kind of forgiveness that prompto doesn't think is necessary. no one's to blame for what happened; it's not the first time he's been injured in a fight, and it undoubtedly won't be the last. still —
he tries to tip clive's face up so he can look at him. ] Hey, it really is okay. It wasn't even bad enough for a phoenix down. [ which is saying something. ] I'll get some rest, and be good as new.
[ which means no exploring lestallum on their first night there or partaking in some of the local cuisine. but it's a small price to pay. ]
[ can you believe that Clive is from a final fantasy that doesn't have phoenix downs....... it's deadsville all across the board in his world, and that might be why his reaction to Prompto being injured is so dire, even if it's perhaps Not That Serious. there is just so much death in his life, so many people he's tried and failed to save.
which is a Clive Problem, and not a Prompto Problem. he's grown enough to know this, too. his frown lingers, but the deep furrow between his brows evens out somewhat; there's no point in arguing the truth that, yes, sometimes thinks like that do happen.
but he just doesn't like it happening to Prompto. which is probably the sum total of all of their problems: that Clive likes Prompto too much. he considers telling Prompto that he felt his heart stop beating when he saw Prompto fall, but.
that probably won't help things any. so he doesn't. ]
...Then I'll do my utmost to tend to you. [ still kneeling, he cranes up to press his lips against Prompto's cheek. ] Anything you need. Just say the word.
[ another potion would probably be nice. Clive fishes one out of his pack after he pulls back, placing it carefully on Prompto's lap. ]
[ it's probably not a good thing to rely on them anyhow; they're expensive, and the resulting hunts or tasks they go on to earn gil wouldn't even cover the end result depending on how many items they use to begin with. but he sort of gets it? a little? real death is something he knows all too much about, and again, this is why they should probably talk about some of this at some point.
but maybe later? right now, prompto is exhausted and still in an incredible amount of pain. ]
I know, [ and he says it as he uncaps the bottle and downs that too. ] You always take care of me.
[ prompto swallows at the taste, familiar now after having had so many of them but still not his most favorite thing. he almost misses all the healing magic, something he can't access on his own because he's just a normal person with normal abilities (that are way OP compared to the average guy), and he's stuck with normal ways of recovering from injuries.
abandoning the now-empty potion to the floor, he carefully shifts to the edge of the chair and draws clive in close. ]
Wanna shower? I can still smell that thing's breath if I breathe in too much. [ not to mention the blood... ]
[ god knows that Clive is not going to launch into existential quandaries when Prompto looks like he's been hit by a truck. any confessions about the amount of catastrophic deaths he's seen (and caused) can happen when it doesn't hurt Prompto to breathe, so―
―another kiss, this time to Prompto's jaw. ]
I'll draw us a bath.
[ showers require standing, and Clive has committed himself to carrying Prompto everywhere for the foreseeable future (the next few hours). it's going to be A Time when he figures out room service and makes the poor hotel employee deal with everything going on.
later, though. straightening up, Clive hefts Prompto back up against his chest and into the bridal carry from before, and makes his way over to the room's (nearly unnecessarily) spacious bathroom. a far cry from their cramped motel showers. ]
―What hurts most? [ just so he can be mindful. he is also absolutely proceeding on the basis of getting into the tub with Prompto, despite it being designed for one and a half people to fit inside it comfortably. ]
[ he barely gets a word out before clive is picking him up again, drawing in a sharp inhale through his teeth. any other time, he would have squirmed at all the extra attention, but right now, it isn't terribly comfortable in any position that requires a lot of weight pressed to certain parts of him. the potion has helped with some of the cramping and his energy levels, but they aren't a cure-all for bruising or bone-deep discomfort.
so, for a moment, prompto rests against clive and focuses on breathing. ]
I dunno. [ once he's set down, he'll begin pulling off his socks and removing his wristband. ] Feels like everything, but I think, um, my hip. It got me pretty good with its tail.
[ which is how he'd ended up flipping over in the first place. and prompto is so focused on undressing, using part of the wall for balance as he shoves the stained and damp material of his skinny jeans down his legs that there's no room for shyness. not that he should be considering how intimate they've been, but it's one of those things for him. he hisses softly as he lifts one foot to free it and then the other.
yikes, he's already starting to bruise. ]
Yeah, I think that's gonna be sore for a while. [ not to draw clive's attention to it, but it's kind of hard to miss given how dark it is. ]
[ the bruise is an angry-looking thing, shaped like a whip, extending from thigh to hip. purple-red, bigger than the span of Clive's hand. he crouches next to Prompto to inspect it, but doesn't touch; it's the worst of many other smaller but nevertheless concerning-looking injuries, from the slight swelling of an ankle to the various cuts and scrapes that have soothed over from the potion, but still look inflamed regardless.
he helps Prompto out of the last of his clothes, setting them aside to be cleaned. there are a few soft-looking bathrobes hanging on the wall of the bathroom, which he takes note of for later use― he inspects the bath to make sure it's lukewarm instead of hot, and stops the water.
fussing. it might be a bit funny, all things considered, to watch a grown-ass man flit about like this. ]
...I should have been more careful. My magic doesn't work here the way it does in Valisthea.
[ not to provide any excuses for his poor performance, obviously. he strips off his own layers as he talks, though he's not exactly the one covered in dragon slime. ]
[ prompto focuses on getting out of his clothes and making it over to the tub, though he thinks it'll be better to wait for clive to climb in first. it'll be easier to situate himself and then relax rather than try to squeeze them both into the tub. it's not small, but it's also not the kind of thing one would find in a more expensive suite. ]
And I should've paid more attention. [ there's that slight but lazy shrug again. ] I was tryin' to reload when it swung around, so... all of this'll heal.
[ it hadn't been terribly life-threatening outside that one brief moment, and prompto doesn't want to relive it so soon. instead, he eases into the tub with clive's help and sinks into the water just as slowly, his breath hitching at the movements and how much it burns to fold himself to sit. but he manages, and they're both mostly submerged in the water when he presses back against clive's solid frame in quiet relief. prompto will get to cleaning his arms and chest and face as soon as he finds the motivation. ]
And I know you're here too, and that's a big help. [ unlike before, when he'd been on his own, he has clive to rely on. ]
[ Clive submits himself to being a man-shaped mattress shielding Prompto from hard porcelain, and loosely wraps his arms around Prompto's middle once they find some measure of comfort in their position in the tub. water displaces under him, and he takes to moving it over Prompto's shoulders, then gathering some in his hand to comb through sun-blond hair. careful, and tactile.
he'll stop if told to. far be it for Prompto to exhaust himself by putting up with anything that could be seen as an externalization of Clive's self-doubt. ]
...I'm sorry. I didn't intend to make you reassure me.
[ a sigh, and kiss to the back of Prompto's neck. ]
Ignore me. It's only that I care for you.
[ the obvious reason for all of Clive's angst, reframed in a way that has nothing to do with Prompto or what he did (which was 'everything right'). ]
[ the simple motions of having water pour over him – gentle and sweet under clive's reassuring hands – has him practically melting. it feels good; even if he hadn't been injured, a bath would have been the first of many things on his list to accomplish. there's no rush to it either, soaking in the added benefit of warm water and the careful attention clive gives him.
prompto hums a little, a quiet and encouraging sound. ]
I'm just telling you how it is. [ reassurance or not, anyway. ] But I get it. I'd probably be doin' the same if things were reversed.
[ it's a gentle tease, an attempt to prod at clive and get him to stop focusing so hard on what could have been. prompto isn't usually the type to hold grudges or seek recompense unless it's under the most extreme circumstances, and this? it's really nothing. he doesn't know how else to prove it, turning his head towards him so he can see clive's face. ]
I care about you too, you know. [ biting at his lower lip, prompto hesitates before adding, ] Like, a lot.
[ he thinks about that― "if things were reversed"― and he admits to himself that yes, it would probably play out in a similar way, with him waving his injuries away and possibly giving Prompto a headache about it. which isn't to say that Clive has a headache right now. if anything, he's grateful that Prompto is allowing him this closeness when it might be the case that Prompto would like some space.
but then he turns, and says that. Clive's busy heart aches in his chest again, affection and worry and everything else that's yet unnameable reverberating through his chest. ]
...I know. [ his hand slides from damp hair, down to cup Prompto's cheek. ] It only makes me want you more.
[ and it makes him afraid of losing, and makes him terrified of seeing (or, worse, not being able to see) Prompto hurt. like everyone else who has ever showed Clive kindness, or grace, or patience. ]
I'd thought I was starting to get accustomed to this world. ...And yet, when left to my own, I felt your absence so starkly.
[ he hadn't thought he'd have the energy, but he flushes with such a stark statement, trying to turn his face into clive's hand in an attempt to let it pass. it's not as if they're sitting in a way that allows him to see much beyond his shoulders and the sides of his head, but...
it only makes me want you more.
prompto doesn't think anyone has ever said anything like that to him before. ]
It takes some getting used to, that's for sure. [ and he wonders how clive would have felt in such a busy city like insomnia—if it was still standing. ] Maybe we should just stick together from now on. Even if it takes twice as long. [ because there's no real hurry, is there? except the unknown clock ticking down to the moment clive returns home.
prompto sighs. ] I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can anyway.
[ Clive finally relaxes a bit more when Prompto leans and presses against his palm with almost catlike sweetness, and reciprocates by smoothing over his cheek with a thumb. it's gratifying, not to have to squeeze the breadth of his affection through a keyhole, second-guessing whether it will be accepted.
he smiles, though he knows Prompto will probably miss it from this angle. ]
You don't find it unseemly that a grown man would miss you after only a handful of minutes away?
[ the tone is light, instead of self-deprecating. acknowledging how absurd the concept of missing someone after only a handful of hours is, but also stating it without much in the way of shame. Prompto should know that Clive is crazy for him.
he kisses the back of Prompto's neck again, urging him to give Clive more of his weight. ]
[ there's just always something about the way clive speaks that relaxes him, so it doesn't take much for prompto to fully press back against him. he carefully attempts to stretch out his legs, hissing softly at the dull throb that's beginning to overtake the entire bruised area. but rather than focus on it, he closes his eyes and thinks about every point of contact between them.
back to chest, thighs, arms... ]
Mm, nope. Nothing weird about that at all. [ it's mumbled almost like an afterthought, reaching for clive's hand so he can curl his arm around him. ] 'Cuz I missed you too. I like knowing I can turn around and see you.
[ the adrenaline's starting to wear thin now, and he's exhausted, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon. the fight hadn't even lasted that long either. ]
Hey, Clive. [ to get his attention but mostly to say his name. ] If we don't find anything here, there are other places we can look. Or, I dunno. Nothing says we have to wander around forever.
[ Clive lets Prompto have the one arm, while the other reaches sideways for the bottle of body wash he'd set aside before climbing into the tub. he cracks it open and lets some of its contents spill onto Prompto's shoulder, then gently works it over his chest, his arms, to wash away the worst of the splashback blood and grime.
idly, he thinks about doing this for Prompto every day. keeping him comfortable, letting minutes drag into hours. it's a idyllic fantasy: putting down his sword, and just existing for the sake of existing.
lips near Prompto's ear, he hums when called. he likes the sound of his name in that bright voice. ]
If we don't find the answers we seek in this town, I would be content to go anywhere you'd like.
[ apparently, in this world, information isn't isolated to certain lore libraries in specific places. still a staggering thought. ]
Though... if there's any location nearby that would shed more light on Eikons in this world, I would like to go there. I think your people call them 'Astrals'― they bear the same names as the powers vested in me.
[ they won't be able to sit too long in the water once he rinses off the soap, but for now, he's content to let clive do whatever he wants. it's nice, and he's more than comfortable despite the constant reminder of his bruised hip and thigh. prompto's almost lulled into a sort of daze when clive mentions astrals, and all he can do is sort of nod vaguely. ]
There are a few places I know we can visit. [ it's not an uncomfortable topic to discuss, but it's edging closer now to things he misses. people he misses. ] Some of 'em are nearby, but others... I dunno. I never really understood that part of the whole thing – Noct making a pact with the Astrals. He'd be better at explaining it if —
[ his throat immediately closes up, grief wrapping tightly around his tongue. prompto has to swallow sharply to force himself to continue. ]
Anyway, we can go there? Maybe it'll make more sense to you since, uh, you know. You've got that connection and all. [ he idly pushes his fingers between clive's and gives them a gentle squeeze. ] But we can figure all that out tomorrow. Or whenever really.
[ right now? he just wants to savor this moment with him and rest. ]
[ if, Prompto says, then trails off. anyway, Prompto says, and Clive can tell it's something he doesn't want pursued (not now, at least). Clive lets that verbal hiccup go unaddressed, understanding that Prompto will speak about the things that haunt him when he's ready to, or perhaps never at all. everyone is entitled to their secrets, in some form or the other.
so he reassures with a squeeze of his own, fingers tangled in fingers, and hums again. ]
We've just only arrived in this town. We can enjoy our time here for a bit longer.
[ rinsing Prompto off, Clive tips his head. ]
I'd like to try the 'cup noodles' at least once.
[ a less complicated quest than the matter of him existing in this world at all. someone with the vocabulary might call it 'date plans', but honestly, he really does want to spend some harmless time with Prompto. ]
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Clive feels his blood run cold at the sight of it; all that blood, and Prompto pinned down by his legs by the creature's massive arm. he relents his hold on the pull of his aether, lets go of bahamut, and sprints towards where Prompto is on the ground with the still-twitching body of the wyvern. sword drawn, slightly pale. ]
Prompto! [ a clean slice through the wyvern's wrist. he severs it, and kicks it aside to give Prompto more room to wriggle. ] Forgive me, I wasn't fast enough－
[ brows furrowed, arm extended in offering. blue eyes flick nervously over the breadth of him, trying to gauge anything that might be immediately serious; even if he doesn't spot anything visibly, he crouches down and tries to make the executive decision to heft Prompto up into his arms. ]
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his head is swimming, everything thrown into high gear. ]
I'm good, I'm good. [ it's a reassuring mumble, though he barely has any thoughts in his head. ] Not the worst that's ever happened...
[ he leans into clive for a moment, sucking in a sharp breath as he tries to stand, but the discomfort in his legs is immediate. almost unbearable, even worse than the embarrassment of having to be carried, if clive decides to pick him up, prompto won't put up too much protest. ] I've got potions in my bag, [ he attempts to add helpfully, hoping none of the bottles had gotten smashed. or maybe they had, and they'd kept him from completely biting it. it's hard to tell. ]
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"not the worst" isn't particularly reassuring. it would have ruined Clive if the worst happened to Prompto on his watch. ]
I'll take you somewhere quieter first, [ is calmer than he feels, as he surreptitiously touches the bag against Prompto's hip and finds the fabric of it wet. Clive frowns, but leans in to press his mouth quickly against Prompto's temple as he starts to walk in the direction of the city this time, hesitating only momentarily when he spots a few civilians running towards them to presumably volley questions at them about what happened.
a bit of a nuisance. he tries to avoid them as best he can, holding Prompto close as he fields a few persistent onlookers with terse not now-s and clear the way-s. ]
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at least he can feel his toes. it's mostly like bruising that will be the issue. ]
There's, uh. They have a hotel, [ prompto tells him, directing clive with the slightest turn of his head. ] Down that street a little to the left. Pretty sure we can get a room.
[ it's where they would have likely stayed anyhow, disliking the useless feeling beginning to settle in his gut the closer they get to their destination. leville hotel is a nice and upscale kind of place, the kind that isn't easily accessible on the road, and it's only after the fussing of the staff and arranging accommodations that prompto finally relents and sags against clive. ]
You're okay, right? [ asked quietly as they head towards the room. ] I don't think it got you, but...
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[ as they make themselves up the stairs and around a corner, down the hall to a room at the far end of it. Clive is demonstrably fine: not a nick or scratch on him, much to his shame. never has being uninjured felt like less of a point of pride.
he swings the door to their room open (easily, despite the fact that it momentarily requires him to shift Prompto's weight a little closer to his chest), and Clive is grateful, finally, for the privacy. he makes a beeline for the bed, where he gently, gently settles Prompto onto the mattress with agonizing care. ]
...One of your potions seems to be intact. You should take it― I'll go buy some more.
[ despite his first instinct being to stay close and to kiss Prompto and to apologize. none of those things will help more than being practical, and it burns him more than anything else to see someone he cares for in pain. ]
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soaked through with potions (and probably a remedy) but washable.
that's later though, and he offers clive a faint smile. ] Yeah. I'll be here, so...
[ he can manage on his own, some of the shock wearing off and replaced with a gentle sort of urgency to check himself over. prompto does what he can not to get blood all over the top blanket, tugging the bottle out of his temporarily ruined bag and downing it with familiar haste. the effects of it are quick in easing the pain, but considering the extent of the hit he took, it only takes the edge off.
it's enough though; at least, he can test putting weight on his feet because he wants to get out of his shoes and his clothes. which is what he's in the process of doing by the time clive does return to the room, sitting in a chair adjacent the bed and slowly stripping out of his vest and inspecting other parts of himself for lingering damage. ]
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blue eyes widen as the door closes behind him, and he sighs: ] Prompto. [ he draws near like a maelstrom, putting a hand to his shoulder when he's close enough. ] You should be in bed.
[ sweet, restless thing. he does appreciate that Prompto should be removing some layers, though, so he sighs again and kneels by his feet, helping with the laces to slowly, slowly tug the shoes off. ]
Don't push yourself.
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I didn't wanna get blood all over where we're supposed to sleep. [ just an explanation, sighing with relief the moment his boots aren't constricting his feet. his legs are beginning to hurt more though. ] Most of it seems to be the daemon's anyway... Good, right? At least it didn't take a chunk outta me.
[ a gentle attempt at humor, and then, he's reaching out to push back some of clive's hair. ] I'm okay, Clive.
[ he's got all his fingers and everything. ]
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his gaze flicks up when touched. contrition is everywhere on his face: in the slant of his brows, the set of his jaw, how his scar seems to pull at his features. ]
...You were injured because of my incompetence. I've never felt so useless.
[ he takes Prompto's hand, lifting it from his hair to press his lips against the back of it, head bowed. ]
Forgive me. ...Thank the Founder for your competence.
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It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes things like that happen.
[ with his other hand, prompto continues to tease at clive's chaotic hair, tucking some of it behind an ear. there's more he should say, he knows that, but clive is looking for some kind of forgiveness that prompto doesn't think is necessary. no one's to blame for what happened; it's not the first time he's been injured in a fight, and it undoubtedly won't be the last. still —
he tries to tip clive's face up so he can look at him. ] Hey, it really is okay. It wasn't even bad enough for a phoenix down. [ which is saying something. ] I'll get some rest, and be good as new.
[ which means no exploring lestallum on their first night there or partaking in some of the local cuisine. but it's a small price to pay. ]
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which is a Clive Problem, and not a Prompto Problem. he's grown enough to know this, too. his frown lingers, but the deep furrow between his brows evens out somewhat; there's no point in arguing the truth that, yes, sometimes thinks like that do happen.
but he just doesn't like it happening to Prompto. which is probably the sum total of all of their problems: that Clive likes Prompto too much. he considers telling Prompto that he felt his heart stop beating when he saw Prompto fall, but.
that probably won't help things any. so he doesn't. ]
...Then I'll do my utmost to tend to you. [ still kneeling, he cranes up to press his lips against Prompto's cheek. ] Anything you need. Just say the word.
[ another potion would probably be nice. Clive fishes one out of his pack after he pulls back, placing it carefully on Prompto's lap. ]
Anything.
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but maybe later? right now, prompto is exhausted and still in an incredible amount of pain. ]
I know, [ and he says it as he uncaps the bottle and downs that too. ] You always take care of me.
[ prompto swallows at the taste, familiar now after having had so many of them but still not his most favorite thing. he almost misses all the healing magic, something he can't access on his own because he's just a normal person with normal abilities (that are way OP compared to the average guy), and he's stuck with normal ways of recovering from injuries.
abandoning the now-empty potion to the floor, he carefully shifts to the edge of the chair and draws clive in close. ]
Wanna shower? I can still smell that thing's breath if I breathe in too much. [ not to mention the blood... ]
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―another kiss, this time to Prompto's jaw. ]
I'll draw us a bath.
[ showers require standing, and Clive has committed himself to carrying Prompto everywhere for the foreseeable future (the next few hours). it's going to be A Time when he figures out room service and makes the poor hotel employee deal with everything going on.
later, though. straightening up, Clive hefts Prompto back up against his chest and into the bridal carry from before, and makes his way over to the room's (nearly unnecessarily) spacious bathroom. a far cry from their cramped motel showers. ]
―What hurts most? [ just so he can be mindful. he is also absolutely proceeding on the basis of getting into the tub with Prompto, despite it being designed for one and a half people to fit inside it comfortably. ]
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so, for a moment, prompto rests against clive and focuses on breathing. ]
I dunno. [ once he's set down, he'll begin pulling off his socks and removing his wristband. ] Feels like everything, but I think, um, my hip. It got me pretty good with its tail.
[ which is how he'd ended up flipping over in the first place. and prompto is so focused on undressing, using part of the wall for balance as he shoves the stained and damp material of his skinny jeans down his legs that there's no room for shyness. not that he should be considering how intimate they've been, but it's one of those things for him. he hisses softly as he lifts one foot to free it and then the other.
yikes, he's already starting to bruise. ]
Yeah, I think that's gonna be sore for a while. [ not to draw clive's attention to it, but it's kind of hard to miss given how dark it is. ]
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he helps Prompto out of the last of his clothes, setting them aside to be cleaned. there are a few soft-looking bathrobes hanging on the wall of the bathroom, which he takes note of for later use― he inspects the bath to make sure it's lukewarm instead of hot, and stops the water.
fussing. it might be a bit funny, all things considered, to watch a grown-ass man flit about like this. ]
...I should have been more careful. My magic doesn't work here the way it does in Valisthea.
[ not to provide any excuses for his poor performance, obviously. he strips off his own layers as he talks, though he's not exactly the one covered in dragon slime. ]
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And I should've paid more attention. [ there's that slight but lazy shrug again. ] I was tryin' to reload when it swung around, so... all of this'll heal.
[ it hadn't been terribly life-threatening outside that one brief moment, and prompto doesn't want to relive it so soon. instead, he eases into the tub with clive's help and sinks into the water just as slowly, his breath hitching at the movements and how much it burns to fold himself to sit. but he manages, and they're both mostly submerged in the water when he presses back against clive's solid frame in quiet relief. prompto will get to cleaning his arms and chest and face as soon as he finds the motivation. ]
And I know you're here too, and that's a big help. [ unlike before, when he'd been on his own, he has clive to rely on. ]
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he'll stop if told to. far be it for Prompto to exhaust himself by putting up with anything that could be seen as an externalization of Clive's self-doubt. ]
...I'm sorry. I didn't intend to make you reassure me.
[ a sigh, and kiss to the back of Prompto's neck. ]
Ignore me. It's only that I care for you.
[ the obvious reason for all of Clive's angst, reframed in a way that has nothing to do with Prompto or what he did (which was 'everything right'). ]
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prompto hums a little, a quiet and encouraging sound. ]
I'm just telling you how it is. [ reassurance or not, anyway. ] But I get it. I'd probably be doin' the same if things were reversed.
[ it's a gentle tease, an attempt to prod at clive and get him to stop focusing so hard on what could have been. prompto isn't usually the type to hold grudges or seek recompense unless it's under the most extreme circumstances, and this? it's really nothing. he doesn't know how else to prove it, turning his head towards him so he can see clive's face. ]
I care about you too, you know. [ biting at his lower lip, prompto hesitates before adding, ] Like, a lot.
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but then he turns, and says that. Clive's busy heart aches in his chest again, affection and worry and everything else that's yet unnameable reverberating through his chest. ]
...I know. [ his hand slides from damp hair, down to cup Prompto's cheek. ] It only makes me want you more.
[ and it makes him afraid of losing, and makes him terrified of seeing (or, worse, not being able to see) Prompto hurt. like everyone else who has ever showed Clive kindness, or grace, or patience. ]
I'd thought I was starting to get accustomed to this world. ...And yet, when left to my own, I felt your absence so starkly.
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it only makes me want you more.
prompto doesn't think anyone has ever said anything like that to him before. ]
It takes some getting used to, that's for sure. [ and he wonders how clive would have felt in such a busy city like insomnia—if it was still standing. ] Maybe we should just stick together from now on. Even if it takes twice as long. [ because there's no real hurry, is there? except the unknown clock ticking down to the moment clive returns home.
prompto sighs. ] I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can anyway.
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he smiles, though he knows Prompto will probably miss it from this angle. ]
You don't find it unseemly that a grown man would miss you after only a handful of minutes away?
[ the tone is light, instead of self-deprecating. acknowledging how absurd the concept of missing someone after only a handful of hours is, but also stating it without much in the way of shame. Prompto should know that Clive is crazy for him.
he kisses the back of Prompto's neck again, urging him to give Clive more of his weight. ]
You spoil me.
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back to chest, thighs, arms... ]
Mm, nope. Nothing weird about that at all. [ it's mumbled almost like an afterthought, reaching for clive's hand so he can curl his arm around him. ] 'Cuz I missed you too. I like knowing I can turn around and see you.
[ the adrenaline's starting to wear thin now, and he's exhausted, feeling as if he'd just run a marathon. the fight hadn't even lasted that long either. ]
Hey, Clive. [ to get his attention but mostly to say his name. ] If we don't find anything here, there are other places we can look. Or, I dunno. Nothing says we have to wander around forever.
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idly, he thinks about doing this for Prompto every day. keeping him comfortable, letting minutes drag into hours. it's a idyllic fantasy: putting down his sword, and just existing for the sake of existing.
lips near Prompto's ear, he hums when called. he likes the sound of his name in that bright voice. ]
If we don't find the answers we seek in this town, I would be content to go anywhere you'd like.
[ apparently, in this world, information isn't isolated to certain lore libraries in specific places. still a staggering thought. ]
Though... if there's any location nearby that would shed more light on Eikons in this world, I would like to go there. I think your people call them 'Astrals'― they bear the same names as the powers vested in me.
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There are a few places I know we can visit. [ it's not an uncomfortable topic to discuss, but it's edging closer now to things he misses. people he misses. ] Some of 'em are nearby, but others... I dunno. I never really understood that part of the whole thing – Noct making a pact with the Astrals. He'd be better at explaining it if —
[ his throat immediately closes up, grief wrapping tightly around his tongue. prompto has to swallow sharply to force himself to continue. ]
Anyway, we can go there? Maybe it'll make more sense to you since, uh, you know. You've got that connection and all. [ he idly pushes his fingers between clive's and gives them a gentle squeeze. ] But we can figure all that out tomorrow. Or whenever really.
[ right now? he just wants to savor this moment with him and rest. ]
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so he reassures with a squeeze of his own, fingers tangled in fingers, and hums again. ]
We've just only arrived in this town. We can enjoy our time here for a bit longer.
[ rinsing Prompto off, Clive tips his head. ]
I'd like to try the 'cup noodles' at least once.
[ a less complicated quest than the matter of him existing in this world at all. someone with the vocabulary might call it 'date plans', but honestly, he really does want to spend some harmless time with Prompto. ]
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