It's The Lack Of Thought That Counts

Jan 06, 2018 01:34

Title: It’s The Lack Of Thought That Counts
Word count: ~860
Characters/pairings: Ignis/Gladio/Prompto (although you could read it as gen)
Rating: Gen
Summary: World of Ruin. Gladio got Prompto a present, and Iggy is somewhat annoyed.
Content: fluff in the darkness
Author’s Notes: It’s not Christmassy or anything but it is about present-giving, so have an Epiphany fanfic.

This can be read as gen or preslash or established relationship - I normally hate that, because I think if it's that ambiguous it's unlikely to be sharply characterised, but they're so much a unit in canon that... *shrugs*

On AO3


Ignis smiled as he recognised Gladio’s heavy tread coming along the hall, the squeak of his boots and then the click of the lock.

“Dangerous day?” he said in greeting. “You’re limping a little.”

“Worth it,” said Gladio. He dropped into the chair at the side of Ignis’ desk, then huffed softly, stood up again and moved the stacks of papers in Braille.

“How’s your team?”

“Oh, they all got off scot-free - I was solo for a hot minute, is all, and had to duck out of the way of a couple extra daemons. But I nabbed those too.”

“Excellent. Remind me of the mission?”

“Getting rid of that pack of coeurls that set up shop near Galdin Quay. I think the place is probably lost long-term, but the longer we can hold ’em back the better.”

Ignis nodded. “Keeping access to the fish alone is a vital food source, of course. Did you get them all?”

“D’you even need to ask? And I got something better, too.”

“A new scar to add to the collection?” Ignis said dryly.

“The limp’s not that bad, it’s just a little slice to the thigh.” Ignis spluttered at those words, but Gladio swept on. “Nah, it’s better. Nabbed a present for Prompto out of the rubble - someone must’ve dropped it running out of there.” The clunk of wood on wood. Ignis reached out and found a small box on the desk, with engraved patterns in the lid.

“Pretty.”

“Yeah - don’t try feeling your way to guessing what is, though, you’ll slice yourself up. It’s a set of razors. Good ones. So Prompto can keep that soul patch of his the prettiest thing in town.”

Ignis chuckled. “A marvellous gift.”

“Hope so,” Gladio said, but he sounded pleased with the compliment.

He must be getting slow; it took Ignis a full five seconds to put it together.

“For goodness’ sake.”

“What?”

“You were solo briefly, but everyone else got out fine? Let me guess - you glimpsed that little thing and couldn’t resist.”

“It’s the best razors in Eos.”

White-hot rage flashed through him like lightning, but Ignis managed not to shout. “That is not the point. How dare you risk your life for such a stupid reason?”

“I risk my life every night,” said Gladio, and Ignis could hear the set jaw in his voice. “Or every twenty-four hours - you know what I mean. If I want to add a little recreational danger to make Prompto this happy then I will.”

“This is sheer idiocy - ”

“It’s life as a hunter! And anyway you’d do it too - if it was your life you’d think it was worth it. You rescued that chocobo, and don’t try feeding me that bullshit about maintaining the number of breeding pairs, we both know why you did it.”

Ignis felt terrible ways to win the argument crowding behind his teeth: you’re going to die, and leave us without you? You’d risk doing that to us? What should I say to Noctis when he wakes? He couldn’t say that - he shouldn’t - but he was prepared to rip into Gladio for this stupidity -

The sound of the door opening came again, and Ignis started; he’d been too distracted to notice the footsteps outside. “Hi guys!” Prompto said, the energy in his voice fit to light Lestallum. “Cindy says hi, I saw her today. Cid says hi too! Well, he doesn’t, but I bet he would if he’d been less grumpy. Hey, are you guys all right?”

Ignis wished Prompto wasn’t quite so attuned to their moods.

“All good,” said Gladio.

Ignis gave him a glare, hoping it would communicate how very much they were going to discuss this later. He didn’t want to worry Prompto, though, so he wiped it off his face after a moment or two; he knew without asking that Gladio would never tell Prompto what had happened for fear of making him feel guilty, and Ignis entirely agreed.

“And I’ve got a present for you.”

“For little old me?” Prompto said. “You shouldn’t have.”

Gladio laughed. “For all our sakes, I should have.” He moved to Prompto’s side, and then came a small creak as Prompto opened the box.

“Oh man! Oh man! These aren’t - they are! I couldn’t’ve got Truefitt razors before the world fell apart - where’d you find ’em, big guy?”

“Grabbed ’em on the way out of Galdin Quay.”

“Amazing! Who needs to find food when you can bring back the best razors around?”

“That’s what I always say.”

“Aww, but you’ve got that scruffy badass thing going on, unlike some of us - I need to keep the facial hair in good condition.” Prompto’s voice was bright and joyous, on the edge of laughter; his happiness spilt sunlight through the darkness. Ignis couldn’t stop his own smile at the sound of it. “Man, I should put these away somewhere safe. Don’t tell Aranea you got them for me, all right, she’d shank us all to get hold of these.” Prompto scampered out of the room.

Gladio emitted a smug silence. Ignis glared.

“...Fine. But don’t do it again.”

This was originally posted at https://lokifan.dreamwidth.org/366878.html. Comment wherever you like :)

gladio/ignis/prompto, final fantasy, ficlet

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