inimicitia | open rp post ➢

I wouldn't have talked you out of it. [ It's the first thing he's said in hours, and his voice is raspy and tight from disuse. Noctis shifts, setting his phone down finally before straightening in his chair so he can level Gladio with a complicated look. Concern wars with frustration on his face, briefly overtaken by something softer, something closer to hurt. This is the first time he's ever felt like Gladio intentionally hid something from him, and while he's certainly entitled to his privacy, Noctis often struggles with the deep wound of his father's relentless lies. It left a scar that will never truly heal, so if he's a little sensitive in this moment, he tries to bury it.

And yet, when he speaks again, his voice wavers, cracking, betraying him immediately. ]

Why didn't you tell me? [ Noctis fights with himself to be open to Gladio's response, clasping his hands in a white-knuckled grip, focusing on his breathing so that he doesn't give in to the knee-jerk flash of anger. He isn't defending himself from Gladio. He's never had to, and he refuses to start now. Noctis can be stubborn — even with himself and his own issues. ]

Noct.

[ Gladio doesn't say anything else, his own voice breaking on the word, but also because he doesn't want to interrupt and he doesn't really have an answer to that. There's a part of him that thinks, even now, that Noctis might have and that same part would have let him, the part of him that was afraid. It's hard to admit that, even to himself, because before he'd left? That was all he had: fear that he wasn't good enough, fear that he was going to let Noctis down, fear that when the time came he wouldn't be able to do the one thing he's been trained to. Some of that still exists in him, deep down under the scars and the bravado, but it's tempered by something so much stronger that it's dimmer than even these fading embers.

A frown pulls the corners of his mouth down, and he's silent for a second or two, just trying to find the right words. ]

Because I didn't want to have to tell you that I thought I wasn't fit to be your Shield. [ Getting that out feels like the relief that comes from collapsing into a chair at the end of a long day, like a weight being taken off, and at the same time, he feels unbalanced, too used to carrying it that he doesn't know how to breathe without the pressure bearing down. ] I didn't want that to be on your mind while I was gone, and I didn't want you to worry, but I'm sorry for not saying anything.

[ Noctis listens, barely moving an inch, staring at Gladio as he speaks with an increasingly distressed look on his face. He nearly — nearly — interrupts, but manages to bite his tongue and wait for him to finish. It's a struggle to process what he's hearing, his emotions a rush of confusion and indignation, but when the tide finally pulls out, all that's left is the hurt. He softens, a frown tugging at his mouth. ]

I don't get it, [ Noctis says slowly, choosing his words carefully, ] But I don't need you to apologize. I need you to know you can lean on me when you need it. For stuff like this. [ He's grateful for the darkness, though it doesn't hide the shine of unshed tears like he was hoping it might. The fire flickers too brightly, throwing his face into stark relief.

It also makes that scar look more pronounced, and his frown deepens, tracing the outline as though it only seems to grow with more time. How do they move past this? Did their fathers, or their fathers before them? Noctis drops his gaze, wondering. ]

[ It's almost like he can sense that need to interrupt and his gaze finds Noctis, quietly begs him to let him get it all out because Gladio doesn't know if he'll be able to if he can't right now. Saying this is harder than all of those trials, hurts more than the scar on his face. Gratitude floods through him, softens his features, and he's able to push through the rest. Gladio stumbles, but it's all out there, hanging heavy in the air between them and the relief recedes like the tide, leaving something cold behind.

Gladio leans forward, his arms braced on his thighs, his head dropping. ] I should have told you. [ And that's all he says at first, staring down at his calloused hands, trembling slightly in the night air. ]

I know, Noctis. I do. This was something I needed to do. For me. For you. And I had to figure it out on my own. [ The words are halting, and his throat feels raw. Gladio frowns, his leg bounces, restless. ] I needed to remind myself why I'm here, and I couldn't put all of it on you.

[ Noctis glances up immediately to stare at Gladio when he speaks again. He's quiet, absorbing it all and trying his best to make sense of what he was hearing over what his mind was trying to tell him. He doesn't trust you and You're a burden were old friends, but they're so much louder now — nearly drowning out everything else.

He's trying, though. Struggling through his own internal thoughts and focusing on Gladio's needs. Except he immediately undermines that when he responds with a sharp, ] For me? Glad — [ Noctis huffs. He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest. ] You don't get to decide what I can handle. Not when it comes to this. I mean — [ he shoots him a pointed look ] If I needed you, wouldn't you want me to lean on you?

[ We do everything together, he thinks, but bites his tongue. Noctis doesn't want to be the only one talking here. In fact, he's already said too much, and he stares moodily at the fire, waiting for Gladio's response. ]

It's not about what I thought you could handle, Noct. [ Gladio sighs, leaning in more as the other sits back, closing the distance, little by little, even now. ] It was about me. What I could handle. And I wouldn't have been able to go through with it if I told you before I left.

[ There had been so many opportunities to abandon the trials, each stolen second at a campfire a chance for the insecurities to tear him apart until there was nothing left but the fear. Cor's silent, constant presence helped and it hurt, too, because Gladio couldn't help but want to compare himself to him and at the same time, try to act like he wasn't coming apart at the seams. ]

I had to go, I had to do it alone, so that I could feel like I belonged here at your side. [ Finally, his eyes lift, the amber catching the flickering light and almost glowing, and they pin Noctis with a gaze that says more than all the words he's managed to get out. ]

[ It's a long time before he responds. Not because he has nothing to say, but because there's too much. Everything rises up his throat, choking him before he can get the words out, and Noctis sits there, frustrated with himself, continuing to stare moodily at the fire.

When Gladio shifts forward, his gaze flicks up again, searching that expression with a vulnerable look of his own. He's afraid — but not of Gladio. ] Did I make you feel like you didn't? [ comes out unsteadily, but Noctis doesn't bother hiding that, or the tears threatening to fall. He just stares at him, and waits, dreading his response but needing to hear it all the same. ]

[ The silence never used to bother him, the long stretches of quiet that curled in around them, warm and comforting, familiar, broken by the turn of a page, the click of the reel, a sigh or a groan from stretching. Gladio likes the silence when it feels like home, but this is fraught, the same kind of silence he felt when his father would enter a room, too many things unsaid, tension and worry and anger and fear.

And all the air is kicked out of his lungs when Noctis finally meets his eyes. Gladio stands, steps right over the embers and he's kneeling right in front of him in an instant, like the distance itself was part of their problem. ] No, Noctis, you didn't. [ His voice is soft, warm, and his hands hover by Noct's thighs, hanging in the air. Gladio rests them there, squeezes gently, keeps looking up at him. ] It was me. If we're gonna be hard on anyone here, that's the guy who deserves it. [ A little humor, hopefully, to break the tension. His hands haven't moved. ] After what happened in that fort, I started worrying that I wasn't strong enough to protect you and if I couldn't do that, I felt like I didn't deserve to be here. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, and facing Gilgamesh was the only thing I could think to do. If I could beat him and come back, then I could tell myself that I was good enough.

[ Gladio huffs, shakes his head. There's the faintest quirk of a smile on his face. ]

I learned a lot down there. Realized a lot. And I know I'm where I'm supposed to be.

[ Noctis looks less than convinced when Gladio kneels in front of him, and even when he squeezes his thighs, both of which make his breath catch in his chest. Still, he hesitates, wavering between a desperate need for validation and a chilly fear that he became everything that his father was — neglectful of those who loved him, focused only on the path ahead. Only Clarus stood beside the king in his final moments. Would Noctis be the same?

He exhales, resting his hands over Gladio's and squeezing gently. ] Alright, [ gusts out of him like an exhale, forcing all his internal conflict aside. This is about Gladio. And he's trying to remind himself of that.

It doesn't occur to him quite yet that neither of them have moved their hands. He's still just staring at Gladio, gaze tracing the new scar with a small frown. ] Sounds like you bonded with the guy. [ Is there a hint of jealousy in his voice? Shut up. ]

[ This is pain that a few hours by the fire isn't going to fix, Gladio knows it, and he knows Noct does too, but at least he can do this, he can keep chipping away at it instead of let it fester, ignored like it's not there bearing down on them. Gladio wants to shoulder the weight of it with him, wants to remind Noct that he's here and he's proud to be. That's something Gladio could stand to let show a lot more than he's let it, and he squeezes again, a gentle, comforting reminder.

Gladio breathes through the way his heart slams into his sternum, hard enough to bruise and loud enough he has to focus just to hear Noct's voice. ] Yeah, [ is all he says, his hands still in the same spot, pinned now under Noctis'. ]

If you call getting my ass handed to me a couple times bonding. [ Gladio chuckles, but he's still sore in dozens of places from the two fights he'd had with Gilgamesh and he suspects he will be for a while. ]

[ It's hard. It always has been for them. Neither of their fathers were all that demonstrative, and they withheld how they truly felt more often than they struggled through expressions of affection. Noctis could count on one hand the number of times he even remembers Regis saying I love you, so this — expressing themselves, being vulnerable — isn't easy. But he's always prided himself on the fact that they at least try with each other. And he's pleased when Gladio meets him in the middle, a tightness in his shoulders relaxing slightly.

His expression, though, is still a little pinched. Some things never change. ] Could've fooled me, [ Noctis mutters, but he at least has the decency to smirk a bit. And as fleeting as that amusement is, it helps thaw some of his stress from earlier.

After a beat, Noctis shifts his hands, tangling their fingers together. He's staring at Gladio seriously now. ] Promise me next time you need something like that you'll let me know. Okay? I want to have your back, too. [ A beat. His lip twitches. ] Idiot.

[ There's a part of Gladio that doubts his father really knew how to love someone, at least in the ways that mattered. Gladio would be lying if he said he thought his father didn't care, but that wasn't really love, certainly not to two kids who felt abandoned. As much as he could, Gladio tried to raise Iris in a home that was warm, to let her feel like someone loved her, but that was hard on a kid who never really knew what that was supposed to feel like, a kid who was torn between that life and the one he was sworn to, the prince who he was meant to give his life for.

Somehow, in spite of the odds, Gladio figured it out, and here he is, trying to reach across that gap, because this matters.

A laugh bubbles up, and he squeezes Noct's thighs again. ] I prefer doing it our own way.

[ Releasing his grip, he holds his hands up slightly, enough for Noctis to sneak his fingers in between his own and he curls them as he meets that gaze. ] I hope there's not gonna be a next time, but if there is, I'll tell you what's on my mind. I promise. [ Another chuckle rushes out of him and he feels lightheaded almost. Gladio shakes his head. ] You do, and I know it. I just needed to remind myself of that.

[ A soft exhale shudders out of him when Gladio threads their fingers. He's caught in his eyes again, burning a bright amber, and Noctis is only half-aware when he swallows, staring right back. It's like looking directly at the sun — not that he minds. ]

You better, [ comes out far too warm and affectionate to be threatening, but the sharp glint in his eyes is a promise. He won't forget this. ] We're in this together. It's all or nothing. [ Noctis doesn't clarify what, exactly, he's saying with that last sentiment, but he doesn't feel like he needs to. Gladio will understand. He always does.

And if he's squeezing his hands too tight, well. That says something too. ]

I'll always be right here. [ Because that sentiment doesn't need to be explained, Gladio knows it intrinsically. This is the life he wants, standing right at Noct's side, and there's no where else for him but here. And if it feels like drowning, staring into Noctis' deep blue eyes, it's a good thing that he likes the sound of the waves crashing overhead and the cradling sensation of sinking deeper and not caring to know how to get back to the surface.

Gladio squeezes back, too, as much a lifeline to Noctis as Noctis is for him. ]

open rp post ➢

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject