bakerstreet | burning bright

burning bright

THE CAMPFIRE MEME

-Okay so you're sitting around a sweet-ass bonfire in the countryside
-or on a beach
-or under the fucking water for all I care, fuck science, it's your choice
-There's probably like, s'more making or hotdog roasting too, who the fuck cares
-And cheesy sing-a-long songs
-And possibly even underwear burning or like throwing random things into the fire
-Or even dancing naked around it like the satanic witches you are.
-Since y'all are suckers for romance the bonfire is pretty fucking romantic
-It can also be pretty fucking platonic because let's face it sometimes you want to do shit with friends
-Just roll with the scenario, have fun, and enjoy the fucking bonfire because it really looks fucking awesome

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"I'm sure that'll slow them down," Prompto grunts. He starts working his pants back on, shimmying his hips again because he swore he gained a few pounds from Iggy practicing his latest recipe. Damn him and his awesome culinary skills. "Don't worry, I got an eye out."

And a gun. It took some used to with the whole summoning it to his fingers, but he thinks he's got a handle on it by now.

He finishes up getting dressed, wriggling his toes as he laces up his boots and for the most part he keeps an eye and ear for the bushes just like he's supposed to. The other he uses to eavesdrop on Gladio, keeping tabs on him and it takes him a moment to notice he's a lot quieter than he was. Huh. Maybe he still does have thing or two to learn from him.

After awhile: "How's it going? You decent?"

"Give me more than two minutes, kid," comes the response from somewhere deeper in the pond with barely only the sound of water. He is very good at being able to move silently as possible, from years of camping it's something he's made sure that he would be able to do, never mind being able to use it in combat effectively as well.

But Prompto is going to discover that Gladio isn't the only thing that can move silently. Slowly, moving closer, with Prompto focused more on Gladio, a voretooth prowls step by step towards the nice, vulnerable prey in front of it, knowing its pack is creeping in step by step. It has enough intelligence to know it has to get the prey out away from the brush so the whole pack can attack.

But in the darkness comes a faint crack! Prompto might pick it up just before the lead creature leaps for him.

Prompto gets about a split second of warning before the dark shape rushes him, low enough to the ground that it almost looks like an overgrown dog. The spines he sees catching hints of the moonlight tell him it's a voretooth, not the bigger, uglier daemons but that doesn't matter because the voretooth can ruin your day in its own special way. He manages to cut off his shout off before it attracts any others - that's what he'll go with later, anyway, because the truth is it's surprise and adrenaline that chokes it off.

He stumbles backward, summoning his pistol. The shot he fires isn't his best: he means to get a good, clean head shot but when the target's moving and snarling, it's more wishful thinking than anything else. He gets the voretooth in the chest, enough to slow it down. The two of them tumble into the pond, water splashing as the voretooth hisses and kicks up mud and pebbles as it struggles to get its teeth into something.

It's about then that the rest of the pack decides to go for the kill, two more breaking through the darkness to rush Gladio.

Since Prompto doesn't give a warning shout, it's the sound of gunfire cracking in the darkness that gives it all away. Gladio feels a momentary grip in his chest - fear - but he doesn't let it stop him. Prompto's re-introduction to the water gives him a target. With a roar, there is the instant pull within him, a silent pictured call in his mind and the physical grasping of his hand that starts on nothing and ends with solid leather in his hand. The shield's weight drags down his arm briefly as he uses that addition to drive down onto one of the creatures coming towards him, followed by swinging it back up to clear back the other one before it could get a strike.

"Prompto!" He risked a look back towards the other, completely oblivious to the fact that he was still completely in the buff as he tried to spot that flare of bright blond but it was so damn dark! "PROMPTO!"

Prompto hears Gladio - at least he thinks he hears him, under the churning water muffling the voretooth scrabbling and snarling. He manages to resurface as the beast missteps and its weight shifts enough that he can come up for air, sputtering and spitting water, hair in his face as he surges to his feet.

"Back!" Prompto's professional enough that when he turns and gets a Gladio full-frontal, he manages not to gape for longer than a split second. Funny how survival-mode kicks in, adrenaline floods the system, and you just plain have other things to occupy your attention.

(He'll be a little jealous and a lot impressed after).

This time he gets a better bead on the voretooth. The first shot skids across the skull. The second hits dead on, the voretooth's screech drowned out as it flops into the pond. The last one dances back from Gladio's swing, prancing back to the muddy bank before it lunges again, going right for the big man's jugular.

When the blond surges back up out of the water and a pair of bullets go off in the night, relief kicks in as powerful as a hi-potion. Gladio's attention turns completely on the last voretooth, his eyes wide as he watches the creature against the darkness. There's no light on him so he's following it near entirely by sound - the scrape of claws against pebbles, the suck of mud from a paw, the rancid hiss of its breath. When he hears the sudden sound - a spray of rocks - he snarls and takes the guess.

He sweeps the shield with all of his strength, and far too close for comfort, he hears the edge of it crack into the voretooth's skull. It's so close that it still makes him stagger back, nearly slipping to fall back into the water but keeping his balance only with a bit of luck. It doesn't help with the spray of gore across his left arm and far edge of his shoulder, but it's very clear that the strike had been a critical one, leaving the body to be thrown to the far edge of the pond.

There he stands in the water, panting from the rush of adrenaline in his veins. "Shit." Just a breathed word before he listens, trying to pick out the sound of anything else before looking back towards Prompto as the immediate source of light. "You okay?"

"Got all my arms and legs so yeah, think I'm okay."

Winded and bruised, but okay. Prompto releases his hold on his gun, watching it shimmer away into blue sparks and he has his hands free again. For the most part he's gotten past his hands trembling after a fight part. Nice part is he doesn't feel like he needs to hide it, shoving his hands in his pockets and hoping the others haven't noticed. The other stuff he can't exactly help - the quick breathing, wide eyes, the way he knows he'll start talking too much because he's discovering how much he likes breathing all over again - and that's all by the wayside as he turns back toward Gladio.

"We're like pros at this now," Prompto's anything if not predictable as he gets his ramble on. "You're the tank, I'm DPS, I guess Noct is like a hybrid because of course, and Iggy's the healer - "

And that's about when he turns and takes in Gladio giving him the full display of his...everything. Prompto stops, mouth frozen hanging open, and for the first time in a while, he's so surprised he's stunned into silence.

Aaaand there it is, the familiar Prompto post-battle ramble. Lets him know the other's okay, now that he's (mostly) gotten past his annoyance of it from sheer amount of repeat experience. He shakes his head, arm sweeping out lightly to allow the shield to disappate back into the voidspace somewhere inside of them, the sparks of magic reflecting off the water before it goes dark again.

"Noct's basically every DPS class combined," Gladio agrees at least, catching onto the King's Knight reference easily enough as he bends over to quickly wipe away the splatter from his last attack. In the process, he misses Prompto's stare, cupping water and letting it fall to wash away the gore. "I'm a five-star tank."

But it was Prompto's silence that makes him pause, bringing his head up to look at the blond--

It only takes a second to realize what's going on and he gives a grin, unable to help himself with the tease on his voice. "Like what you see?"

Prompto's doing a very good fish impression. His mouth snaps shut with an audible click of teeth. "What? No - I mean, uh...I'm just impressed. Yeah."

Yeah, that was totally it.

Now Prompto's flushing red again, deep enough that he wonders if Gladio can see it in the poor lighting like this because it feels like he totally could. Probably heard it in his voice. Guy's scary perceptive sometimes. Prompto clears his throat, ducks his head, tells himself he won't glance over again (too late, already did; it's like a magnet) and then wades back to the mud-churned bank of the pond. He's still frazzled as he feels around for the towel, trying to dry himself off again and mostly he's just smearing water and mud around at this point because the towel's useless.

Seriously, he's probably going to see Gladio in his birthday suit in his dreams. Over and over again, in loving, high-definition detail.

Gladio's laugh follows Prompto out to the shore as Gladio finishes up, then follows the blond out towards the edge. He glances over and shakes his head, deciding to the hells with it and only pulling on a pair of sweat pants. (Not getting leather over damp skin any time soon.) Being at least decent again, he walks over and drops his towel in front of Prompto. "Go around the other side, get most of it off. Towel's mostly dry, least better off than that thing, and I've got a spare shirt in here you can use. I'll keep an eye out while I pack, but be quick about it."

There's a momentary pause, then Gladio shakes his head and clasps Prompto's shoulder briefly. "Nice shooting, though." Trying to pull Prompto out of his little circle of looking like a confused puppy. Kid's adorable, definitely managed to fill himself out over the last few years thanks to training, but he's not going to say that out loud to him. If just seeing someone naked makes him react like that, then best not to make it worse.

Gladio's decent because apparently - unlike some people here - he brings extra clothes to the pond. Sweatpants, to be exact. They're comfy looking, too, and now Prompto's staring at the guy with a different kind of envy. You really, truly can't beat the joy of comfy pants.

...he seriously needs to start bringing some. Maybe next place they stop at, he'll put that on the olde shopping list.

Prompto's starting to recover enough to take the rare compliment from Gladio, cherish it and then pick up the towel. This close he can see the almost smile on the other man's face (it's a smile, right? Sometimes Gladio pulls these killer straight faces, just to see your reaction).

"Thanks! Been brushing up on it," Prompto has the towel clutched to his chest. "I'll be back before you know it."

And while he isn't quite that fast, Prompto's a hell of a lot faster getting cleaned up and mostly dried off a second time around. Now he's clean but a little damp, the towel only able to dry off so much, his chest bare to the night air. He's rocking some fashionable goosebumps as he rolls up to Gladio and he's got to admit, he's looking forward to that spare shirt even if it will be several sizes too big.

"So about that shirt...I'm looking like a kid tonight, aren't I?"

"Too late, kid," Gladio says with a laugh, grabbing the shirt and dumping it on top of Prompto's chocobo-butt head. Really, it's hard to miss that said kid has actually really filled out over the last few months. He can remember that first training session, looking at this too-thin teen in front of him who was rapidly proving useless with any kind of melee weapon, and debating if training would have to start simplier first with just straight strength training. Now? He can see the build of muscle across Prompto's chest, in his arms, and he approves.

Still, he turns to grab both of their packs, letting Prompto get into the voluminous shirt. "Got your stuff, quickshot. You can sit close to the fire and dry the rest of the way, but it might take Iggy to save your clothes." They hadn't come with a lot of clothing, but that wasn't entirely a surprise. After all, this was only supposed to be a road trip of a set length, which they had packed appropriately for. Definitely not for the months it was taking now.

Normally he'd be moaning about his hair. Considering he got dunked in the pond twice in one night, Prompto figures it's a lost cause and he'll worry about coaxing it back to life tomorrow morning. Taking that as his cue to get dressed, he shrugs his way into the clean shirt - it's clean but through the detergent, he can still smell a hint of Gladio through it, like steel and creaking leather. When it pulls over his head and settles around his shoulders, he'll find that it's on the long side, the shoulder's seams going way past where they should, the sleeves showing how much bigger Gladio's biceps are.

Yeah, he totally needs to work out more. Get that protein on.

"If anyone can do it, he can." Prompto isn't too surprised that the man's a wizard with sewing like he is with cooking. At this point, it's like what can't he do. "...Before we go, I didn't, uh..." This is embarrassing but he wants to know before he heads back and Noctis and Iggy could see it. "I didn't split my pants in the fight, did I?"

It comes out in a rush. Honestly, it felt like maybe he did. Maybe he's just being paranoid since he scarfed down a big lunch at the Crow's Nest and it felt like he gained weight.

Gladio knows well that Ignis can do anything the man puts his mind to. It's just been a part of Ignis for as long as they've known each other. It's why Ignis is even Noct's advisor (and babysitter, as Gladio had so often mentioned in the past). Given that Ignis has acted like ~~a momma hen~~ practically a mother to Noct since Noct was young, it's little surprise that he's mastered nearly any household chore or job.

Still, there's something amusing about seeing Prompto in his shirt. It only highlights the differences in their size ever more drastically and combined with Prompto's already young features definitely does make him look like a kid. But when that question gets asked of him? Gladio can't help the laugh that comes, even if it's not the most kind moment, before he leans back and over to check on Prompto's backside.

His question gets asked with a slap to his arse, something Gladio's done before (mostly because Prompto's expression is worth it, every time) and done to the others. "looks good from back here." Is that meant to be a flirt? With Gladio, probably.

A memory of a better time, Prompto. Is it a real memory... or another false one?

Prompto jumps a little at the ass slap. The first time it happened he'd been shocked and awed and a little appreciative after the fact because one look at Gladio's muscles, and he was suddenly glad he didn't get his ass slapped clean off.

These days he's better about it. Sometimes he'll even look like he was expecting it, like it's no biggie.

Prompto turns, ass smarting in a good way as he levels a stare at Gladio and of course that little hint of a smirk's there. "It always looks good. You're not the only one who does squats."

...Well, okay, so he doesn't do them carrying a million pound rocks for fun, but c'mon. Prompto thinks he's got a fairly decent butt. He assumes (hopes?) that Gladio thinks the same. Guy's opinion matters, and not just about how he handled himself in a fight.

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burning bright

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Thinking we could timeskip or end thread? Seems like a good point :3a

Hope this works!

Yup yup - let's start wrapping here and go for timeskip? :3a