Chapter Text
Yesterday
Yesterday
all my troubles seemed so far away
now it looks as though they’re here to stay
Oh I believe in yesterday.
Suddenly
I’m not half the man I used to be
There’s a shadow hanging over me
Oh yesterday came suddenly.
(The Beatles – Yesterday)
Prompto was numb as he trudged away from the Citadel. It was almost like an out-of-body experience if he didn’t feel so heavy. This could not be happening. Not to him. Not again. He should have known it. Everyone always left him. First his real parents, then his adoptive parents, now his friends and lover.
Seems he just wasn’t worth keeping around.
He should feel angry, sad, at least upset. But he felt nothing. He was in shock, probably. He still hasn’t really processed what had just happened. He had been escorted to the Citadel like a criminal, put into a conference room and accused of leaking intimate pictures of Noct and him. He wouldn’t, he would never do anything to hurt Noctis, but nobody believed him. They took his phone and the technicians said something about proof that certain pictures were downloaded recently from it. Prompto denied it, because he hadn’t downloaded, sent or leaked any pictures. To whom? He had no friends apart from Noct. He thought that his advisor Ignis and shield Gladio were his friends as well, but it seemed he was mistaken. Just like the others in the room they didn’t believe him. Gladio even would have punched him if Cor the fucking Immortal hadn’t interfered. Cor, who he thought of as some kind of mentor, hadn’t said anything, but the disappointment was palpable. Everyone was so angry and disappointed at him that he lost his words. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t defend himself, couldn’t even meet their eyes. Their minds were made up anyway. Whatever had happened was Prompto’s fault. It’s not like he wasn’t used to it, but it hurt coming from the people he considered his friends. Noctis wasn’t even in the room with them. He would probably never see him again. And that hurt. When the king, who he had met several times since his friendship with Noct evolved into something more and who was always nice, almost fatherly towards him, ordered Clarus to confiscate his camera and phone it felt like he was cutting off a limb. But when he banned him from the Citadel and forbid him from contacting his son ever again it felt like cutting out his heart.
Prompto still didn’t know what had happened. But he felt like everyone was watching him, whispering about him, pointing their fingers. He felt like this when he was young and fat, but thought it was mostly in his head. But when he stopped at a huge intersection all the LED-Infomercial-Signs showed the same picture: Him kissing Prince Noctis on the cheek. Both of them smiling, hair dishevelled from sleep in Noct’s king-size bed.
Suddenly he didn’t feel out of his body any more. He felt slammed back into it with bone-crushing force. No wonder everyone was staring at him. No wonder he was banned from contacting Noct.
This was bad.
This was a political nightmare. Noct was betrothed to Lady Lunafreya. It didn’t matter that she knew and approved of them, that she had a lover herself. He was a fucking home-wrecker in the eye of the public.
Prompto missed the green light. The picture was still displayed with various headlines using their private moment to spin political intrigue, gossip about Noct’s sexuality and speculate about the no-name, clearly foreign boy. The murmurs around Prompto got louder, people started to whip out their phones and take pictures or videos. So Prompto did, what he always did if things got overwhelming:
He ran.
He pushed people out of the way that crowded in on him, hopped over the hoods of parking cars and sped down the streets not caring about the honking and screaming that erupted around him. Finally he arrived in a less popular neighbourhood where the streets were filthy and the people kept to themselves. Still the image of him and Noct was shown on several TVs in a run-down electronics store. Prompto couldn’t help himself and stopped in front of it. He tried to catch his breath and touched the window as if he could grab through it right in to the TVs and snatch the picture out of them.
Yesterday they were so happy. So carefree. Now his life had gone to pieces.
Prompto had stayed the weekend over at Noct’s apartment. His parents weren’t in the country, hadn’t been for several months now. He had learned not to miss them. They had a blast on Saturday. First they went to the arcade with only Gladio as a bodyguard. Then they went to Noct’s apartment to game some more. Iggy had prepared home-made burgers and the most delicious finger food for them. He even joined them for a couple of multiplayer racing games. (And won them all, naturally, Ignis was perfect in everything he touched). When he and Gladio had left they watched a movie and cuddled on the couch, which soon turned into making out on the couch. Their relationship was still young, they’ve been friends for almost three years now and had kissed for the first time four months ago. They hadn’t gone any further than kissing and fumbling helplessly under their clothes. But everything stayed above the waistline. Prompto was extremely body-shy and Noctis was generally awkward in interpersonal relationships. He grew up so sheltered that he didn’t have a frame for how to behave with people that aren’t on the King’s payroll. He enjoyed everything he did with Prompto: gaming, talking, cuddling, kissing. Of course he thought about going all the way with his best friend, but he didn’t feel a rush to do it. He knew in an abstract kind of way that they were on borrowed time, what with his betrothal to Luna, but he didn’t want that to push him. He just savoured every minute with Prompto and the other way around. They decided that Prompto should stay the night, it was late and there was no one waiting at Prompto’s home anyway. Naturally Prompto woke up way before Noct did, but he didn’t want to wake his boyfriend who turned into a koala at night. So he played Kings Knight and waited for Noct to wake up. When he finally stirred he woke him with a kiss to his cheek and snapped a picture of it.
Noct looked so happy.
Prompto was filled with a warm feeling of love and home and rightness whenever he looked at it. It was just his luck that something that made him so happy turned out to be his downfall. But he still couldn’t fathom how the picture had been leaked. He certainly didn’t sent it to any news stations or uploaded it on social media. He knew better. Had his mobile been hacked? But how? He didn’t have any other friends, he didn’t go out in bars or cafés where strangers could have access to his phone. He only went to Noct’s and to school. Admittedly his math teacher had confiscated his phone because he was texting with Noct instead of listening to boring algebra, but he had only put it into his desk drawer and given it back to him at the end of the lesson. Noct had even mocked him about it. (His phone hadn’t been confiscated – which was kind of unfair). He went straight home after school because Noct had some council meetings. Then the phone-call came and he was ordered to the Citadel. And now his picture and some semi-fabricated half-truths about their relationship was all over the evening news and the internet.
When Prompto arrived at home he was glad that the paparazzi hadn’t found out who he was yet. Even though he knew it was only a matter of time until one of his classmates would seek out their five minutes of fame and blab about him to the media. Prompto didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a phone and apparently his room has been searched in the time he was at the Citadel because his laptop and spare camera was missing. His photo albums were scattered and some print outs of him and Noct as well as Ignis and Gladio that hung on the cork-board above his bed and were glued into some albums were ripped off and taken as well. There was a fancy looking letter that prohibited him from using any electronic devices – private or public – and leaving the city with thinly veiled threats of treason. Prompto shut all the blinds, locked the front door, buried under his blankets and cried himself to sleep.
They thought he was a fucking traitor – why was he the one feeling so betrayed then?