Archive of Our Own

The morning sun filters in through the blinds, bright beams of it caressing the line of Noctis’ jaw. His sleep turns shallow when the sound of a passing car pushes into his consciousness, and he groans at the blinding flare of light that stings at his eyes. The trailer around him is quiet, which means he can expect Prompto or Gladio to show up and harass him for wanting to sleep in like a normal person.

He can already hear footsteps on gravel, the heavy gait unmistakably Gladio’s, and as if on cue, the door to the trailer is yanked open.

“Noct, it’s time to get up and haul ass.”

Noctis groans and pulls the thin blanket over his head, but Gladio has never been one to give up without a fight.

“You need a kiss to wake up?” Gladio grins as he yanks the blanket aside.

“Come on, I barely got any sleep last night with you and Prompto snoring right next to my ear in perfect chorus.” Noctis tries to bury his face into his pillow, but it’s snatched from under his head and his cheek hits the lumpy mattress instead.

“Then go and buy some earplugs,” Gladio retorts, ignoring the glare Noctis shoots him over his shoulder. He swings the pillow at Noctis’ head and tosses it to Prompto’s unmade bed on the opposite side of the trailer, well out of reach. “Come on, the girl at the garage says the repairs on the Regalia are done, so we can be back on the road as soon as we have some grub in our bellies. Prompto and Iggy are already at the diner.”

The lure of breakfast is hard to resist, and Gladio’s mouth quirks up at the loud rumble from Noctis’ stomach. “I’ll meet you there.”

The small camper is a far cry from the grand halls of the Citadel, and Noctis can’t help but notice the way Gladio has to crouch to fit his massive frame through the narrow doorway.

All alphas are physically impressive, their muscles naturally broad and well-formed, and Noctis can’t recall a time when his friend didn’t tower over him, already larger than most grown men when he joined the ranks of the Crownsguard at sixteen.

He couldn’t ask for a better Shield and the knowledge that Gladio is his and his alone sends a warm thrill through Noctis’ belly. He catches himself inhaling the scent that lingers in Gladio’s wake, dulled by his suppressants, but still reassuringly familiar in this new world away from home.

He’s never been to Leide, but he’s aware of the lax attitudes people outside of Insomnia have when it comes to omegas embracing their true nature. He’s not foolish enough to think all the rumors he heard about life in the Outlands during his schooldays are true, but he can already tell omegas here are more casual about the lot biology has dealt them in life than they are back home.

The girl at the garage, Cindy, is clearly an omega like Noctis, but her scent is pure and unaltered by suppressants, and Noctis feels a mixture of horror-laced envy at the thought. As the future king of Lucis, he would never be allowed such reckless freedom, the fact that he is an omega a closely guarded secret since he’d presented at the age of thirteen. The suppressants he takes day after day cast a veil over his nature, the numbing of his scent and senses the price he has to pay for having the misfortune of being both a prince and an omega.

The thought draws his gaze to the small pouch on top of his clothes where they sit folded at the foot of his bed. He reaches inside for his suppressants, the small tin box he keeps them in one of the few things Noctis has left of his mother. He traces his finger gently over the faded ornate patterns on the lid and heads into the cramped bathroom where he places one of the precious green pills on his tongue, bending down to take a drink from the tap.

His hair is still damp from the most uncomfortable shower of his life when he emerges from the trailer, and the desert heat hits him like a physical wall. He brings his hand up to shield his eyes as he takes a proper look at his surroundings. The landscape around the service station looks harsh and empty, but there’s something about the open road and the vast blue skies that manages to light a fire of adventure in Noctis’ heart.

There’s more freedom in the simple strip of a desert road than Noctis has known in his twenty years in Insomnia, where the sunlight barely reaches the bottom of the deep concrete canyons, the towering buildings and monuments to Lucian architecture as suffocating as they are impressive.

If only it wasn’t so damn hot.

Noctis wipes at his brow and winces at the sharp pain in his shoulder, and yeah, it wouldn’t hurt if the beds were also just a little less lumpy. His father may have allowed him to attend a regular school, but Noctis would never deny that his life thus far has been one of luxury, and right now, he can’t help but miss the large bed in his old penthouse apartment.

He knows how passionate Gladio is about life in the great outdoors, the large set of camping gear his friend had piled into the trunk of the Regalia hard to miss, but there’s no way Noctis will sleep in a dank tent unless they have no other choice. Gotta draw the line somewhere.

“Hey, Noct! Over here,” Prompto calls, waving his hand from one of the booths as Noctis steps into the diner.

“Good morning,” Ignis nods, wiping his napkin over the worn, white vinyl of the seat and inviting Noctis to take a seat. “We took the liberty of ordering for you.”

Noctis casts his plate a suspicious look. “No vegetables, right?”

Ignis empties his cup of coffee and pulls his gloves back on before standing up from the booth. “No vegetables,” he confirms, but Noctis doesn't miss the quiet reproach in his voice. “I’ll go ahead and do a bit of shopping while you eat your breakfast,” he says as Noctis digs into his sandwich. “The drive is quite long, so make sure you get your fill.”

Both Prompto and Gladio have already emptied their plates and they turn their eyes to the dusty windows as the Regalia rolls out of the garage. Cindy parks it in front of the gas pumps, and Prompto rests his chin on his hand, eyes a little glazed as he watches her do a final polish on the hood.

“Look at her,” he sighs wistfully. “She’s gorgeous.”

Gladio tilts his head back, his smile wry as he arches one thick brow at Prompto. “The car or the girl?” he snorts.

Prompto’s freckled cheeks grow red at Gladio’s teasing words, and Noctis sinks his teeth into his sandwich to hide his grin.

“I’m talking about the Regalia! Obviously,” Prompto huffs, visibly flustered, but his gaze flicks back to Cindy where she’s leaning against the side of the car as the meter on the gas pump begins to climb.

Gladio crosses his arms over his chest and Noctis almost forgets to swallow when his eyes catch the way the fabric of his shirt pulls taut around his biceps. His friends might not be privy to his secret, but there are still moments when the dormant omega in him is caught off-guard around Gladio, who, despite being his friend and Shield, is also an alpha in his prime. He blinks and drops his gaze to his plate, but Gladio’s eyes are trained on the window and the brief lapse in Noctis' act goes unwitnessed.

“Well, she’s no eyesore,” Gladio agrees. “And FYI, I’m talking about Cindy.”

“Yeah, but no way would she ever go for a plain old beta like me,” Prompto sighs and slumps against the back of his seat. “A girl like her won’t settle for anything less than an alpha.” He shoots Gladio an envious glare and waves his finger at him. “It’s not fair. Not only do you always look good in pictures, but you also get all the booty.”

“I am pretty photogenic,” Gladio laughs, but the smile never reaches his eyes. “You’re wrong about the booty, though. I don’t do casual sex." The muscles in his jaw twitch as he glances at Noctis. "Not anymore.”

“What? You saying you don’t get laid?”

“Yep.”

“At all? No way! Is that even healthy?” Prompto’s gaze turns skeptical as he takes in Gladio’s impressive physique. Even Noctis has a hard time believing that an alpha like Gladio doesn’t get offers. “What alpha doesn’t try to nail everything that moves?”

Noctis doesn’t miss the way the corners of Gladio’s eyes narrow, and he can feel the shift in the air between them even with his dulled senses.

“As the Shield of the future King of Lucis, my duty is to him and him alone. I can’t have any outside distractions.”

“What does that even mean?” Prompto frowns.

The vinyl of the seat squeaks under Gladio’s bulk as he straightens his feet under the table, the tip of his boot poking at Noctis’ sole.

“It means I’ll never take a mate,” he says, voice unwavering.

Prompto bolts upright in his seat. “What? That’s crazy! You knew about this, Noct?”

Noctis shakes his head and struggles to hide his surprise as Gladio continues to watch him over the grease-stained table.

Prompto steals a cold fry from Gladio’s plate and continues to prod him. “Did you, like, have to take a vow? Is there some official Crownsguard code you have to follow?”

“This code is my own,” Gladio says, short and blunt, and even Prompto seems to realize he’s not in the mood to discuss his personal life any further. “Anyway, someone’s gotta pay Cindy for the repairs.” He arches his brow at Prompto who cowers like a little child, the guilt of wrecking their car still fresh on his mind.

Gladio reaches over to ruffle the tuft of Prompto’s blond hair. “Hey, don’t sweat it, kid.” He pulls on his leather jacket and shoots Noctis a wink over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure Iggy doesn’t forget the earplugs.”

Noctis watches Gladio walk across the parking lot to where Cindy has finished refueling the Regalia, the morning sun reflecting from the freshly polished hood.

“Is it just me or is the Big Guy sometimes really intense?” Prompto sighs, fixing his hair.

“Sometimes? Try always,” Noctis smirks, but the passion Gladio seems to bring to every aspect of his life, be it his dedication to improving his physique or his loyalty to the crown, is something Noctis can’t help but admire.

He wishes he had even half of his friend’s conviction as his marriage to Luna draws closer.

“Can you imagine how hard it must be for an alpha to make a vow like the one Gladio has made for you? Talk about dedication, man.” Prompto says, shaking his head. “You don’t think it has something to do with that asshole from two years ago, do you? I’ve never seen Gladio lose his focus again after that night...”

Prompto’s words call up an old memory from the back of Noctis’ mind. It had been his birthday, and all four of them had snuck out for a night in the city after the official reception at the palace had drawn to a dull conclusion. Even Ignis had lost the stick up his ass as they got pleasantly buzzed from cheap beer, the thrill of being away from their duties a nice change of pace for all of them.

Noctis was allowed to forget the responsibilities of his title and no one had paid any attention to him at the arcade Prompto had dragged him to while Ignis toured the nearby marketplace. His Shield had waited outside, chatting up a group of omegas, and Noctis suddenly understands what Gladio must mean by outside distractions.

The evening had gone to shit when a drunken alpha had accosted Noctis for hogging his favorite pinball machine. The guy had been huge, the stench of his whisky-fueled breath and sharp canines etched to Noctis’ memory in vivid detail. He’d punched Prompto in the stomach for coming to Noctis’ aid, the pinball machine forgotten as he’d backed Noctis into a corner.

“I don’t make a habit of fucking betas, but you’re pretty enough to pass for a ripe little omega, aren’t you? I could make an exception for you, sweetheart.”

Every fencing and self-defence lesson he’d taken with Gladio over the years had vanished from his mind at the feel of the alpha’s large hands on his waist. He’d frozen to the spot, no amount of suppressants enough to keep the omega in him from cowering in front of the aggressive alpha.

The rest of Noctis’ memories are nothing but a blur of images and sensations. He remembers Gladio’s angry snarl and the heavy weight of the drunken alpha being yanked aside. The feeling of Prompto’s hands on his shoulders as his legs threatened to give, and the flash of a broken bottle neck his assailant had pointed at his Shield.

The fight had ended in Gladio’s victory, but the scar across his eye still serves as a permanent reminder of the night he almost failed at his duty.

“Hey, Noct, you listening?”

“Huh?”

Prompto gives him a lopsided smile and points at his camera. “I said I’m gonna go buy some extra film for my camera while I have the chance. You never know what awesome photo ops we’ll run into on the road, right?”

Noctis smiles at his friend. “Right.” He watches Prompto shuffle out of the booth and turns his eyes back to the yard, where Cindy is walking Gladio through the repairs she’s made.

“It means I’ll never take a mate.”

The depth of the sacrifice Gladio has made in the name of his duty to his prince makes old guilt fester in Noctis’ heart like a poorly-healed wound. He can scarcely remember a time when Gladio wasn’t in his life, watching over him and training him to be better in every way possible.

He’d known the night at the arcade weighed heavily on Gladio’s shoulders, the hours of additional training he’d put himself through in the following months taking his friend close to his breaking point.

They’d agreed to keep the incident on his birthday a secret, but its effect on Gladio did not escape Noctis’ notice. He’d watched his friend from the shadows of the training hall, lured there by a mixture of guilt and awe, for Gladio was a sight to see even when he whipped himself for his failure.

Noctis never joined him, the air of aggression around Gladio almost suffocating, but he’d had his first wet dream on the night he saw Gladio tear the limbs off a training dummy, the sawdust clinging to his sweat-slick skin like snow.

Gladio’s self-inflicted punishment finally ended with an intervention from Clarus. He’d disappeared for a month, taken away by the Marshal, and Noctis never discovered where he’d gone, but it had felt as if he, too, was being punished, the absence of his Shield confining Noctis to his apartment. When Gladio had finally returned to his duties, there was newfound determination and focus in his eyes, the air of aggression around him gone.

The warm evening breeze plays with Noctis’ hair as he casts his line into the shallows, but the fish only circle and nip at his bait with no intent to bite. It's nice, though, after a day of bounty hunting in the desert.

Soft piano tunes and laughter drift to his ears from the seaside resort, and Noctis tries not to think about the comfortable beds and the five star meals he’s missing out on.

They’d taken a few odd jobs on their way to Galdin in an attempt to fill the hole the repairs on the Regalia left in their wallet, but the hotel remains well beyond their price range, which means another night of slumming. At least they’ve yet to see Gladio drag out his camping equipment.

Noctis begins to reel his bait in when he feels the pier tremble with familiar, heavy steps.

“Catch anything?” Gladio asks, joining Noctis at the end of the pier.

“Not even a minnow,” Noctis huffs. “The lures they sell here are crap. Shoulda brought my own set, but I didn’t think we’d have time for fishing.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re stuck here for now with the ferries not running,” Gladio sighs. “Let’s just hope that Dino guy can get us a boat like he promised, or we might have to redo our entire schedule.”

Noctis’ brow creases as he follows Gladio back to the beach, because the possibility of being late from his own wedding hadn’t even crossed his mind until now. “You don’t think we’ll have to delay the wedding, do you?”

Gladio picks up a small pebble, smooth where the waves have polished its surface, and sends it bouncing on the still waters of the bay. “That depends on how fast we can make it to Altissia.” He motions for Noctis to follow as he heads towards the old trailer, bathed in a pool of bright light on the other side of the beach. “Come on, Prompto found some eggs further down the beach. I bet Iggy’s already turned them into a gourmet meal.” He pauses and glances over his shoulder when he realizes Noctis hasn’t moved, taking in the troubled look on Noctis’ face. “Noct? Everything ok?”

Noctis begins to fiddle with the pouch on his belt, but he shoves his hand into his pocket before Gladio has a chance to catch him at it. “It’s nothing,” he lies, but he can tell Gladio isn’t convinced. “I just… I don’t want the wedding to be delayed, you know? A lot depends on this union between Lucis and Tenebrae.”

Gladio settles his palm against Noctis’ shoulder, his long fingers brushing against the curve of his neck, and Noctis can’t help but flinch, the touch of an alpha on the sensitive bonding spot something even his medication can’t suppress. He withdraws and does his best to hide his discomfort, but it doesn’t appear Gladio is aware of anything being awry.

“I promise we’ll get you to Altissia on time. I’ll swim you there myself if I have to.”

Noctis snorts and pokes at Gladio’s tattooed bicep. “I doubt you’ll even float.”

Gladio’s hand flies up to ruffle at Noctis’ hair and he swats it away, dodging with ease as Gladio attempts to grab a hold of his shirt. The soles of his boots dig into the sand as he sprints across the beach, but the chase is over almost as soon as it begins as Gladio pulls him into a clumsy bearhug.

“A guy your size shouldn’t be allowed to be so fast,” Noctis complains, but he leans into Gladio’s lopsided embrace and they follow the scent of Ignis’ cooking to their humble lodgings.

Later, when they’ve eaten and the others are engaged in a game of cards in front of the trailer, Noctis withdraws into the bathroom and pulls out his box of pills. He takes his evening dose and stares at the remaining suppressants, counts them twice as he tries to come up with an estimate of how long it’ll be before he runs out.

“A week… A week ?”

The trip to Altissia was never meant to take more than a few days and he was counting on replenishing his supply once they arrived. No one could have predicted the ferries wouldn’t be running, but Noctis curses himself for setting out so ill-prepared. If only Ignis had been there to nag him about this, but his biology is the one area of his life where Noctis can’t rely on his friend.

The brand he’s on is an exclusive one, too expensive for common omegas, most of whom don’t bother with anything stronger than basic heat blockers. The rural shops and service areas don’t seem to carry more than rudimentary potions and cures for battle injuries, and Noctis’ hands begin to shake as he allows himself to think of the disaster that would follow if he went into heat before his union with Luna can be made official.

There would always be traditionalists among the people who only accept an alpha like his father on the throne, but the decision to suppress his nature was made so Noctis would never have to worry about fending off power-hungry alphas within his father’s court, or foreign rulers and dignitaries looking to turn him into a puppet king.

And now the reputation of the entire royal family could be ruined because of his carelessness. The scandal that would rise should the crown prince of Lucis be claimed by some common alpha at a roadside diner would be unthinkable.

The sound of Prompto’s outraged cry through the half-open window yanks Noctis out of his thoughts.

“You cheated! Iggy, tell me you saw that! Back me up, man.”

“The cards don’t lie, kid,” Gladio laughs. “You better pay up.”

“Hey, Noct, where the hell are you?” Prompto gives the wall of the trailer a series of desperate-sounding knocks. “Get your ass over here! Gladio always cheats when you’re not around.”

“Be right there,” Noctis calls. He shoves the remaining suppressants back into the pouch and tries to ignore the anxious pressure that continues to build in his chest as he exits the bathroom.

Gladio’s face is the picture of smugness as he counts his newly won gil, and Noctis feels the color on his cheeks drain when his friend glances up from his coin.

He hadn’t even thought of Gladio, his Shield and protector - and an umated alpha.

“Noct? Everything alright?” Gladio asks.

Both Prompto and Ignis look up from their cards, and Noctis fights not to squirm under the sudden scrutiny.

“You look a bit under the weather,” Ignis notes from his seat by the door. There’s a flash of guilt in his eyes as he glances at their empty plates on the table. “I do hope it wasn’t the food? I’m sure I prepared everything accordingly. Perhaps it was the eggs? Or the ham wet got at the vendor. The stove in the caravan is hardly up to standard either-”

“There was nothing wrong with the food,” Noctis interrupts. The mere thought of Ignis’ cooking being anything less than stellar is ridiculous. “Your cooking is as good as ever.” He runs his fingers through his hair and does his best to conceal the worry that continues to twist his insides. “I’m just tired,” he lies, and this time even Prompto looks unconvinced. “I think I’ll call it a night and head to bed.”

Ignis and Gladio both exchange quick looks, but they wish Noctis a good night, the sound of their hushed conversation drifting into his ears as he lies down on the narrow bed, his hand squeezed around the box of suppressants.

The mood in the car is grim and the overcast sky seems to reflect their recent heartache. The updates on the radio remain vague as information from the fallen Insomnia is slow to surface. There’s no official confirmation on the structural damages or how many are dead, and Noctis can hardly wrap his mind around the idea of Insomnia without its King.

They’re somewhere between Galdin and Hammerhead when the voice in the radio reports on Luna’s death, but Gladio reaches through the seats and silences it before they have a chance to learn any details.

Noctis continues to stare at the droplets of water that cling to the window, too numb to feel anything beyond a stunned ache of despair. He starts when Gladio settles his large hand over Noctis’ knuckles.

“The Empire is full of snakes,” Gladio says, his jaw set. “They’re lying about Luna, Noct. I guarantee you.”

Noctis gives a quiet hum and turns his face back to the window, but he makes no effort to move his hand, and the warmth of Gladio's palm continues to seep into his skin through the small connection between them.

They spend the next few days in the northern parts of Leide as they try to learn everything they can about Insomnia’s fall, and Noctis barely notices the small metal box in his pouch continues to grow lighter until his week is finally up.

“Don’t wander off too far,” Gladio yells from the gas pumps. “We’re leaving as soon as Prompto and Ignis come back from the shop.”

Noctis doesn’t bother to acknowledge Gladio as he heads to the restrooms behind the small service station. The floor is barely visible under used hand tissues, and looking at the stains on the tiles makes Noctis glad he can’t smell most of it. There’s someone at the urinals, an alpha by the looks of it, his shoulders as broad as Gladio’s. Noctis can guess the large semi in the parking lot belongs to him, the cartoon chocobo he saw on the side of the truck also on the back of the man’s vest.

He lingers by the sinks and keeps his eyes on the graffiti on the wall as he waits for the alpha to leave, but he can feel the man’s gaze on him as he zips up and begins to wash his hands. The memory of his failed birthday party in the city snakes its way to the surface of Noctis’ mind, and he fights to quell the wave of anxiety that follows in its wake, but the trucker pushes past him and disappears into the darkening evening the moment he’s done.

Noctis drags the overflowing trash can to the door and props it against the handle for some privacy.

The tin box in his pouch rattles faintly when he pulls it out, and he blows out a stuttering exhale as he stares at his reflection with glazed eyes. He has to force himself to flip the lid open, because the moment his eyes land on the final pill, there’s no escape from what’s coming.

His heart still aches with the loss of his father and a love nipped at the bud before it was ever given the chance to bloom, and now, underneath it, is a fresh pain for the friends he knows he will likely lose after tonight.

Noctis pinches the pill between two fingers and squeezes his eyes shut as he presses it on his tongue.

Gladio waves his hand at the group of hunters as he enters their encampment on the outskirts of the service area. They invite him to sit down by a small campfire and there’s a cold beer in his hand before he can even introduce himself.

They’ve set up a rusty grill a few feet from the fire, and the cook points his sooty tongs at Gladio. “You one of the boys with the fancy ride?”

Gladio glances over his shoulder at where the Regalia is parked in front of the dingy motel on the other side of the road. “Yep. Perks of the job, I guess,” he grins.

The cook flips the slabs of meat on the grill and casts Gladio a measuring look. “You fellas ain’t from around here, are you?”

“Just passing through,” Gladio says, careful not to blow Noctis’ cover. “Hit a few bumps in the road,  what with it raining Imperial MTs in recent days.”

"I hear the Glaive is still putting up a fight, but there were insurgents in their ranks," one of the hunters says. "There's even talk of their captain being a turncoat and fighting with the Niffs." 

They have a long and sprawling conversation about the attack on Insomnia, and the hunters share what little news they have from the nearby regions. Gladio learns that most of the roads are still restricted by Imperial blockades, but he has no doubt that Ignis can come up with alternative routes if need be.

He asks about work and one of the hunters, an old alpha with a face full of battle scars, hands him an assignment.

“Been trying to find someone to take care of this particular beastie for some time now,” the hunter says, and it’s clear the paper has been folded and unfolded several times.

Gladio’s eyes widen as he turns them on the prey. “ A behemoth ?”

“Yep. A nasty one, too. You think you boys can handle it?”

Gladio takes a sip from his bottle and studies the details. The paper doesn’t contain much information on the target, just the assumed location and a long list of potential risks that come with the job. It’ll be one helluva challenge, but they need the money now that both Altissia and Insomnia are cut off from them.

“We’ll take it,” Gladio nods. He shakes hands with the alpha and accepts the second beer he’s offered.

Most of the hunters in the small encampment are alphas, but there are three unmated omegas among them, two women around his own age and a young boy who reminds him of Noctis during his awkward years. His eyes are reserved as he shadows the women, clinging to them like a little duckling.

The air is thick with greasy-smelling smoke, but it’s clear none of them are on any form of suppressant and their scent is almost cloyingly sweet when they walk past the campfire. Gladio’s nostrils flare when it catches his nose and he’s unable to control the shiver that runs down his spine; it’s been a long time since he was around an unmated omega and he’s never met one in the city who wasn’t on some form of suppressant.

One of the women pauses in front of him, her smile playfully mocking as she rakes her eyes up and down his tattooed arms. Her scent is pure and free of chemicals, and Gladio can’t stop himself as he breathes her in, a quiet grunt slipping past his parted lips.

“You big city boys are all so sensitive. Bet I could send you into rut in no time at all,” she coos, as Gladio gapes at her like a dumb pup.

“That’s enough, Molly,” the scarred alpha interrupts, and sends the omega away with a light smack on her jean-clad bottom.

Most of the encounters Gladio’d had with omegas back home had been fleeting, and his life in the service was free of temptation, for there were no omegas among the Crownsguard or the Glaive. His father had raised him to never abuse the power he held over those who were weaker than him, teaching him to channel his natural disposition to protect into his duty.

Slighter than most betas, Noctis had led a sheltered life since he was a boy. Gladio had never seen a more serious child, sickly and always in doubt of himself. The first few months between them had been rough, their contrasting personalities clashing almost daily, but even Gladio’s teenage temper hadn’t been enough to silence his inner desire to watch over his young prince.

Only once had he failed at his duty.

Gladio traces his fingers over the scar where the silky groove of it runs across his eye. He’ll never forget the way Noctis had trembled in his arms when he’d carried him out of the arcade, the stench of the strange alpha clinging to his clothes when he escorted Noctis to his apartment. Gladio had snatched them from his bed while Noctis was in the shower and he still can’t explain what had made him shove the tailor-made outfit into the dumpster behind the building.

His upper lip curls up at the memory and he becomes aware of the deep growl that rolls up his throat when one of the omegas, the young boy, bolts up from his lawn chair and hides behind the nearest alpha.

Gladio blinks his eyes and closes his mouth when he realizes his canines are exposed. The group of hunters watch him closely from across the fire, the relaxed mood gone.

“You best be off before it gets dark,” the scarred alpha says after a beat, and it’s obvious Gladio’s sudden lapse in control has brought his welcome to an end. “Good luck with the hunt.”

Gladio empties his beer and takes his leave, eager to rid himself of the omega scent that continues to linger in his nose. The sun is already sinking behind the rocky mountain range, but the asphalt continues to radiate with heat as he crosses the road and makes his way to the motel.

He finds Prompto sitting under a faded parasol in front of the mini mart, accompanied by a young beta girl who listens with rapt attention as Prompto waxes lyrical about the beautiful landscapes they’ve seen during their time on the road.

Prompto grins at him when he passes by their table. “Hey, man. You wanna see the pictures from this morning? There was a really cool rock formation on the way here that kinda looks like a giant turtle and-”

“Maybe later,” Gladio smiles, but the corners of his mouth stay tight. “Iggy and Noct around?”

“I think I saw Ignis in the lobby, but Noctis went to our room. I guess he wants to be alone after everything that’s happened… He’s been acting kinda weird lately, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Gladio sighs, scratching at the thickening stubble on his cheek.

The setbacks they’ve had in the last couple of days have taken their toll on all of them. Noctis is distraught over the news about Insomnia, they all are, but Gladio can tell something’s been eating their prince since the night in Galdin.

He heads to the small lobby where Ignis is seated in one of the worn armchairs by the windows, a can of Ebony in his hand. The radio on the front desk is on, but the news is as grim as before. Their home remains under Imperial occupation and everyone of importance is pronounced dead.

Ignis looks up from his newspaper when the bell above the door announces Gladio’s arrival. He folds the paper in two and places it on the small table in front of him. “Was the job hunt a success?”

Gladio hands him the assignment he picked from the hunters and Ignis fixes his glasses as he studies the details. “A behemoth?” He arches his brows at Gladio. “Well, I suppose the pay is acceptable, but it’s quite a challenge.”

“You think Noct is up to it?” Gladio asks, feeding a couple of gils into the vending machine by the front desk.

“One might ask the same of you.”

Ignis’ words catch Gladio off-guard and he turns his face to the selection of snacks to hide his surprise.

“This isn’t about me…”

“Our prince is not the only one who lost a loved one in the invasion. So I ask you, Gladio, are you up to the task?”

Ignis gives him a pointed look and Gladio knows his friend isn’t talking about a mere monster hunt.

“I have to be,” he sighs. “For Noct, we all have to be.” He picks up the granola bar that drops into the slot, his face solemn as he meets Ignis’ eyes. “He’s hiding something.”

“I know.”

Noctis is curled up on the bed when Gladio enters their room. He feigns sleep, but his shoulders tense and pull towards his ears the moment the mattress tips from Gladio’s weight.

“I know you’re awake.” Gladio scoffs, and there’s a soft rustle as Noctis sits up.

“Nothing ever escapes your keen eye, does it…” Noctis’ voice is flat and his face is cast in deep shadows.

“I found us a new hunt, but it’s a day’s ride away so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Gladio attempts to move closer, but Noctis pulls away before he can lay his hand on his shoulder. He watches Noctis withdraw to the window, his arms wrapped around his body as if he’s trying to shield himself from some invisible foe.

Gladio’s brow creases at the sight. He doesn’t want the thought in his head, but it’s starting to feel like Noctis is avoiding him. “Is everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine,” Noctis mutters. He scratches at his elbow, his skin ghostly pale in the harsh artificial light that shines into the room through the sheer curtain in the window.

It’s obvious things are far from fine, and Gladio feels like he’s walking on eggshells, but he decides not to push it, the pain of loss still visible in Noct’s defeated demeanor.

“I got another call from Iris,” he says, choosing to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Some of the strain in Noctis’ shoulders seems to ease off and his mouth curves with something akin to a smile. “Yeah? How’s she doing?”

“She’s a tough little thing,” Gladio says, a hint of brotherly pride sneaking into his voice. “They’re taking good care of her in Lestallum.”

“That’s good to hear,” Noctis nods. “I hope we can meet with her soon.”

“If we nail this hunt, I bet you we’ll be in Lestallum by the end of the week. It’s about time we get a breather after all the shit that’s happened.”

Gladio doesn’t miss the flash of hesitation that passes over Noctis’ features as he steps away from the window and seats himself at Gladio’s side. He worries his bottom lip, a nervous tick that’s left the skin raw and slightly swollen.

“I’m sorry about Clarus, Gladio. And I’m...” Noctis’ hand hovers above Gladio’s knee, but he pulls it back and balls it into a fist. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”

Gladio gives a small nod. “Thanks.” There’s still no official confirmation, but there’s no way his father would have been anywhere but at the king’s side when Insomnia fell. “At least the old man died doing what he lived for: defending his King.”

There’s a pained, slightly guilty glint in Noctis’ eyes and his hand trembles when he finally lowers it on Gladio’s knee.

“I’m glad you’re by my side, Gladio.” Noctis’ fingers squeeze gently around Gladio’s leather-clad knee. “Promise me you’ll remember that.”

There’s something strangely foreboding in Noctis’ words, and Gladio’s mouth twitches nervously as he attempts to smile. “I’ll remember.” He lays his hand over Noctis’ sunburnt knuckles and the visible flinch from Noctis makes the worry in his heart bloom anew. “Noct… If something’s wrong, if there’s anything you need, you know I’m here for you, we all are.”

Noctis pulls his hand back and shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I’m just-”

“Tired ?” Gladio finishes, and he has to fight to keep his temper in check as his frustration mounts.

“Yeah…”

The line of Noctis’ shoulders is tight with tension once more. Gladio watches him withdraw into the small bathroom and he recognizes the familiar self-hatred that begins to mount in his chest when he realizes he’s failing his prince once more, unable to guard Noctis from whatever it is that’s causing him to withdraw into his shell and hide from his closest friends.

Gladio stares at the bathroom door, and for a brief moment he’s tempted to break it in and demand Noctis share his burden with him. He grabs a small bestiary from his belongings to prepare for their coming hunt and leaves the room before he can do something he’ll regret.

Noctis is awake before the others and he sits up as quietly as he can, but Ignis stirs on the other side of the double bed when the mattress bounces under Noctis’ weight. He reaches for his glasses on the small nightstand and places them on his nose.

“The prince awakens before the break of dawn. Now I’ve truly seen everything,” Ignis muses.

Noctis forces himself to smile at Ignis’ remark and he walks to the window to peek behind the curtain while Ignis heads into the bathroom. The pink-purple glow of early dawn bleeds over the rocky hills beyond the open road, the sight of the dawning day filling Noctis with a quiet dread.

It’s been almost thirty six hour since he took his last suppressants and he knows the changes are coming. He can already feel a dull ache behind his eyes, the smell of the dusty carpet and old cigarette smoke that clings to the furniture in the room becoming more prominent as he begins to recover his sense of smell.

He glances behind his back at Prompto and Gladio, who continue to slumber in their shared bed on the other side of the room. Not much will change with Ignis and Prompto, both of them betas, stable and safe, with no danger of being driven into territorial scuffles around him.

He begins to dress and his eyes lingers on Gladio as he pulls his shirt over his head. One of his massive arms is thrown over his eyes, the patchwork of ink on full display, his bare chest rising and falling with his soft snores.

He’s one of Noctis’ oldest friends, the one who’s always been there to push him on when he falters, but he’s also an alpha, perfect and unmated and not an option.

The hunt Gladio has them on is bigger than Noctis realized. He’s never seen a Behemoth outside of his old bestiary, but the warnings on the assignment are an obvious indicator of the challenge they’re about to face. He can understand why Gladio is in a rush to make fast cash, his little sister the only family he has left now, and Noctis hopes he won’t be a hindrance in the coming battle.

The drive to Duscae is long and they’re slowed down as they try to avoid Imperial roadblocks and the MTs that keep dropping from the sky right in front of the Regalia every thirty minutes.

“There’s no end to them!” Prompto pants after they’ve fought off a fourth or fifth such ambush.

Noctis is starting to feel the strain of battle and his head is pounding when he slumps in the backseat. He can feel Gladio’s eyes on him and is relieved when his friend turns his attention on one of his books. He’s never been more than a couple of hours late from his daily intake of suppressants, the warnings from the royal physician drilling the importance of his medication to his head at a young age.

He’s shocked to discover how fast his body is reacting to the three missed dosages, and he glares at Gladio from the corner of his eye as he wonders if being stuck in the backseat with an alpha might be speeding up the whole process.

He’s feeling feverish after a quick lunch at a small pit stop, sweating bullets with the midday sun scalding against his head as the Regalia glides down the dusty desert road.

The scent blockers will be the first to go and his anxiety continues to mount when he sees Gladio shift restlessly in his own seat. His nose twitches and he looks up from his book, the lines on his brow deepening with confusion as he scents the air.

Noctis leans against the side of the car to put some distance between them, wishes he could disappear into the wind that blows over the sandy plains. His skin crawls with hot and cold flashes and he takes out his phone to distract himself with some casual gaming, but he can barely focus on the screen through the wave of nausea that swells in his chest.

“Are we there yet?” Prompto sighs in the front seat, fiddling with the buttons on the radio.

“Not for a few more hours,” comes Ignis’ reply, but Noctis barely hears him as he begins to slip into a dreamless sleep, the phone in his hand falling on the seat with a soft thud.

He dreams of faceless creatures, large and feral and prowling around his own naked body, their strange scent leaving him powerless as he cowers at their feet. He’s exposed and small and there’s nowhere to hide as one of the beasts draws closer, about to mount him.

Noctis startles awake when Gladio gives his shoulder a gentle shake.

“We’re here, Noct.”

He blinks his eyes open and swallows back the groan that threatens to slip from his lips when he discovers the pounding in his head is even worse than before. The sun hangs lower in the sky and the air in Duscae is much cooler than the desert heat of Leide. It’s easier to breathe, but the familiar wave of nausea washes over him the moment Noctis attempts to sit up.

He feels Gladio’s eyes on him as he stumbles out of the door and into the small parking space.

“Hey, you sure you’re ready for this?” Gladio asks. He circles around the car and Noctis’ heart jumps to his throat when he feels Gladio’s hand settle on his arm.

He stumbles back to put some distance between them and fixes Gladio with a stubborn glare. “I’m ready.” He squares his shoulders and tilts his chin up. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Gladio looks unconvinced, but Noctis rushes after Ignis and Prompto before he has a chance to protest.

They track their prey with Gladio’s lead for what feels like hours, and the wood around them begins to grow dark. The deeper they venture, the thicker the air seems to grow, and Noctis is vaguely aware that there are no bird calls from the trees above their heads.

“We must be getting close,” Prompto whispers. “I’m getting some serious chills here…”

“Yeah,” Noctis pants as he stumbles after his friend.

The battle has yet to commence, but he feels like he’s on the verge of stasis and he shakes his head to get rid of the black spots that swim across his vision. All of his senses seem to be going haywire, the ringing in his ears so loud he barely hears it when Gladio calls for everyone to halt.

The ground beneath their feet trembles as their prey emerges behind a large rock formation, its snarling mouth revealing a sharp set of teeth, massive horns pointed in their direction as it spots the uninvited guests in its territory.

“Holy shit that thing is big!” Prompto shrieks, and even Ignis and Gladio seems surprised by the size of the creature. “Can we all agree that this is the last time we let Gladio pick our hunts?”

Gladio rolls his eyes and conjures his massive greatsword into his hand. “Less bitching-”

“More slashing! I know, I know,” Prompto sighs and takes out his own trusty pistol.

“Might I suggest that before we do any slashing, you all gather round for a bit of planning?” Ignis calls from Noctis’ side.

They huddle together as Ignis walks them through his plan of action for the coming battle. Noctis can’t focus on any of it and his eyes turn glassy as droplets of sweat roll down the bridge of his nose, his breaths nothing but shallow gasps as the myriad of smells around him burns in his nostrils.

“Hey, Noct, you even listening?” Gladio barks.

“Yeah I’m listening!” Noctis snaps, as he struggles to pull out of the fog of his own mind.

Gladio reaches over and catches a fat droplet of sweat on his fingers where it clings to the bow of Noctis’ lip. “You sick or something?”

Noctis flinches and swats Gladio’s hand away, but there’s no time to argue when their ears suddenly ring with the behemoth’s deep roar. It digs its massive claws into the ground, unearthing roots and dirt as it charges at them.

“Oh shit… I guess it’s go-time,” Prompto yelps.

Noctis clambers onto a small rock and tries to scan the beast for its weaknesses, but his mind has barely penetrated through its outer layer of defences when a violent swipe from the behemoth’s massive tail sends them all flying through the air. The others recover quickly and begin to hack away at the beast while Noctis struggles to get back on his feet.

He conjures up his Engine Blade and trains it at the enemy as he forces his feet to carry him to where Ignis is slashing at the behemoth’s hind leg with his daggers. He sinks his own blade into the beast’s thigh muscle and the simple action leaves him feeling utterly winded. He barely evades another swipe from the giant tail, and both Ignis and Gladio shoot him worried looks.

“Focus, Noct,” comes Ignis’ firm command, and Noctis does his best to obey.

He manages to warp himself onto the beast’s back, then buries his blade into the thick layer of muscle near its spine. The behemoth roars with pain, rising to its hind legs in an attempt to shake Noctis off like a pesky flea. His blade remains stuck in the muscle and Noctis is thrown off, managing to break his landing with a last-minute warp.

He attempts to tap into his remaining arsenal, but his daggers flicker and fizzle out of his hand before he can swing them at their target.

"Great..."

Gladio gives up on slashing at the behemoth’s torso and moves to Noctis’ side, shielding him with his massive bulk as Noctis fumbles with his weapons.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Gladio shouts, the edge of his greatsword sinking into the behemoth’s flesh. “Stop screwing around and get back into the fight!”

“I’m trying!” Noctis yells back, but every single blade he summons fizzles out the moment he wraps his hand around the hilt.

The behemoth seems to sense Noctis is in trouble and it turns its fury on him and him alone. Gladio blocks another strike from the enraged beast while Ignis and Prompto try to direct its attention away from Noctis. The behemoth finally charges after Prompto when one of his bullets scrapes its horn and Noctis is given a moment to catch his breath.

His vision grows black at the edges and he has to grab a hold of Gladio’s shirt just to stay on his feet. Gladio throws his arm around Noct and pulls him close, his other hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“What’s going on, Noct? Do we have to retreat? You tell me right now,” Gladio demands.

The scent of his sweat hits Noctis like a physical force and he can barely draw breath as his mouth falls open. He pulls away from Gladio’s hold and shakes his head, his eyes blurry with his own sweat as he stumbles into the thickets.

“Hey! Where the hell are you going?” Gladio bellows.

Noctis doesn’t get far before he doubles over and a wave of nausea makes him vomit. The ground shakes with the behemoth’s trashing even as Noctis continues to empty his stomach. Someone calls his name, but the sounds of battle grow muted in his ears and his heart beats like a frantic bird in the cage of his ribs as his body slips into stasis.

There’s a hand on his shoulder and the touch sends a violent jolt through his entire body. He spins around and comes face to face with Gladio, his own startled expression mirrored on his friend’s face.

“Noct, what…?”

Gladio yanks his hand back as if he’s been burned and Noctis watches the way his nostrils flare as understanding slowly dawns on his face, his expression a mix of awe and horror.

He knows.

Noctis stumbles back and reaches out with his hand to transport himself to a nearby outcrop, but his mana is depleted before he can reach his destination and he slips back into stasis mid-air. Pain explodes behind his eyes when he lands, the back of his head scraping against a rock.

He’s vaguely aware of Ignis calling for a retreat, his mind on the edge of unconsciousness. The last thing Noctis sees is Gladio’s large form settling between him and the raging behemoth, a ferocious snarl rising from his chest as he swings his sword at the beast.

Noctis entire body feels like a giant bruise when he wakes up, the world around him bathed in an eerie shade of blue. His vision swims as he searches for something for his eyes to focus on, and they eventually land on Prompto’s freckled face.

Prompto cups Noctis’ cheek with a pistol-calloused hand, his voice a soft whisper. “Hey there, buddy,” he smiles.

Noctis peers around and sees the blue light is coming from one of Gladio’s camping lanterns. He’s lying on a bedroll, the tent around them rustling softly from the breeze outside.

“So, we finally went camping…”

“Yep,” Prompto grins. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a stampede of wild chocobos…”

His body aches, but the nausea from before is gone and the strange fog that had shrouded his mind appears to have lifted. Noctis blinks when he becomes aware of the strange new scent around him, something mildly citrusy. He turns his eye on Prompto when he realizes it’s coming from him, surprised to discover his friend has such a unique scent.

The flaps at the entrance are pushed open and Noctis lifts his head to see Ignis enter the tent.

“I see you’re awake,” Ignis smiles. Noctis attempts to sit up, but he’s stopped by Ignis’ firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t try to move just yet. I wish to examine you first.”

“You gave us quite a fright,” Prompto says, and the worry Noctis sees on his face feels completely out of place. “Big Guy almost lost his marbles when you fell unconscious! I’ve never seen him like that... He woulda tried to kill that damn behemoth with his bare hands if Iggy and I hadn’t dragged him away. I swear he was almost frothing at the mouth.”

“What? ” Noctis looks around, his eyes frantic. “Where is he now? Is he ok? He hasn’t left us, has he?”

“It’s alright, Gladio is still with us,” Ignis reassures. “He wanted to wait outside, but Prompto can fetch him if you like.” He arches his brows and watches Noctis over the rim of his glasses. “Is that what you want, Noct?”

Noctis’ heart begins to race as he thinks of facing Gladio without the shield of his suppressants. What if his friend no longer wishes to be around him? What if he despises Noctis for the lie and the truth?

“It’s ok, Noct,” Prompto says, and Noctis realizes the turmoil in his heart must be written all over his face. “He said he’d come if you want him to.”

“Alright. I’d like all of you to be here.”

“Be right back!” Prompto parts the flaps and Noctis watches the darkness outside swallow his form.

Ignis helps him up and pulls out a small first aid kit while they wait. He examines the bruises and cuts on his arms and Noctis blinks as he points a small flashlight at his eyes.

“I’m fine, Ignis,” Noctis protests.

Ignis pockets the flashlight and hands Noctis a potent elixir from the kit. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t quite take you for your word after what happened today,” he says pointedly.

Noctis feels his cheeks flush and he knows the whole truth is finally out. He squeezes the bottle in his fist until the magical vial bursts and the rejuvenating effects of the medicine flow through him, absorbing into his body.

“I think we deserve some answers, Noct,” Ignis says, and Noctis knows he’s right.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Prompto dives into the tent a moment later and behind him is Gladio. He has to hunch to fit inside and he sits himself down by the entrance, the expression on his face visibly nervous when he meets Noctis’ eyes over Prompto’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Gladio nods, the tilt of his dark brows uncertain.

“Hey…”

Gladio scratches at his neck and his words come out in a rush when he speaks. “You ok? How’s your head? You looked pretty rough when we carried you to the car and-”

“I’m alright, Gladio,” Noctis smiles. “Thanks for getting me out of there in one piece.” It takes him a moment to register it, but his mouth falls open and his lashes flutter against his cheeks when Gladio’s scent begins to fill the tent.

It overpowers the mild beta scent from Prompto and Ignis, and Noctis’ entire body becomes alert as he breathes it in. It’s at once familiar and so unique that there’s nothing for him to compare it to, but it reminds him of home and gives him a sense of security he hasn’t felt since he was a boy.

Gladio sits with his eyes trained on the floor, and Noctis can tell he’s not breathing through his nose, his large body tense.

“Well, this is awkward...” Prompto says, breaking the silence that seems to hang over their heads like a physical weight.

Ignis folds his arms across his chest and turns his eyes on Noctis. “We’re all here now, Noct. Do you perhaps have something you wish to tell us?” His voice is gentle, but Noctis knows he will have to be honest.

“Yeah…” He licks his lips, wondering where to even begin. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” Noctis says with a humorless chuckle. “The heir to the throne of Lucis is a lowly omega.”

“Noct, you shouldn’t speak of yourself in such a manner,” Ignis scolds softly. “There’s nothing wrong with who you are.”

“My father’s advisors and most of the court would beg to differ with you, but thanks, I appreciate it, Iggy,” Noctis says, smiling faintly. He takes a quick glance at Gladio, who continues to stare at the green mat beneath his boots.

“I never had any idea you weren’t really a beta like me and Iggy,” Prompto says. “You didn’t even smell like an omega. It was more like… soap? Yeah, really strong soap.”

Noctis gives his friend an awkward look. “The stuff I took was pretty strong. It was made to alter my scent.”

“I assume you ran out of your medication due to us being stranded?” Ignis asks, and Noctis is glad he doesn’t have to steer the conversation himself. “It must be quite impossible to find such an exclusive brand in these rural areas.”

“I tried every pharmacy we passed between Galdin and Duscae, but there was nothing I could do to stop what happened… I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” The words spill out of his mouth in a fast litany, and his cheeks burn with shame. “I’m sorry I lied to you guys.”

“None of us blame you for hiding the truth, Noct,” Prompto says, his eyes sympathetic. “We know why you did it. I mean, sometimes there are things you just can’t share.” His voice grows quiet and he begins to fiddle with the laces on his boots. “Not even with the people who love you.”

“Thanks, Prompto,” Noctis smiles. He tries to catch Gladio’s eye over Prompto’s shoulder, but his Shield continues to avoid his gaze.

“It has been some time since the royal bloodline produced an omega,” Ignis says. “As I recall, King Laurentius Lucis Caelum was made into a puppet ruler by his alpha mate from Niflheim during the unrest between our nations a few centuries ago. I’m not surprised by your father’s decision to choose to try and conceal your nature.”

They all startle and look up at the sudden low growl that rises from the entrance where Gladio sits with his back hunched like some brooding beast. “He shouldn’t have to hide who he is,” he snarls, his canines exposed. “He’s our King and any alpha who would subjugate the rightful heir to the throne of Lucis isn’t worthy of claiming them as his mate.”

Noctis stares at his friend and even Ignis and Prompto seem stunned to silence by Gladio’s words. He can sense the air of frustrated anger that fills the small space between them,  and the loyalty he sees in Gladio’s eyes leaves him speechless.

Gladio tosses another log into the fire and gives the charred pile of wood an encouraging poke. The flames burst into new life and Gladio follows the trail of smoke with his gaze as it rises toward the night sky. He sits back down in his folding chair and watches the dusting of stars above his head. The wood around him is quiet, but the wind carries the catoblepas’ low rumbles up the hill as they shuffle around in the moonlit the lake.

Gladio reaches into the cooler and fishes out a bottle of beer. It’s been one helluva day and he could definitely go for something stiffer, but his options remain limited until they have a chance to restock their supplies. The beer is refreshing as it washes down his throat, but it does nothing to relieve the ache in his muscles.

It’s been years since he’s driven himself to the point of such bone-deep exhaustion, and he still doesn’t understand the strange fury that came over him after Noctis’ fall, the vicious rage he’d felt at the sight of the behemoth charging at their defenceless prince uncontrollable. Gladio’s jaw clenches at the mere memory of it and he has to force himself to loosen his grip around the bottle before it breaks in his fist.

How could he not know that Noctis was an omega? He’s spent years guarding his every move and somehow he’d remained as oblivious as the rest of Lucis. Even if Noctis’ scent had been altered by the suppressants, his small build should have been a dead giveaway, his face lovelier than any beta’s Gladio has taken to his bed over the years.

He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a deep pull as he feels an old, shameful memory force its way to the surface of his mind.

He’d been nineteen when it happened, a night like any other night, except Noctis had come home drunk. Ignis, who hadn’t been more than a glorified chauffeur at the time, had left the prince in Gladio’s care after fetching him from a party one of his classmates from the public school had thrown on her birthday. Most of the King’s inner circle had been away while Regis attended a meeting in Altissia, but the palace corridors were still full of watchful eyes as Gladio tried to escort the drunken princeling into his private chambers.

He’d been on the verge of panic, sure he’d be fired from his duty as Shield should someone find out the crown prince had gotten himself drunk on Gladio’s watch. Noctis, however, had seen it all as a game, giggling and stumbling away from him as Gladio did his best to rush him to his room.

He takes another swig of beer and feels his face heat up at the memory of pressing Noctis into a small alcove just outside of his chambers to avoid the patrolling Crownsguard, the way Noctis’ warm breath felt against the palm of his hand where Gladio had pressed it against his grinning mouth to keep him quiet.

His small tongue had flicked past his lips and he’d lapped at Gladio’s hand, the look in his eyes glazed and far from innocent. Gladio had managed to drag Noctis to bed and neither of them had mentioned the incident again, but the memory of Noctis’ tongue against his skin had branded itself to Gladio’s mind for years after.

No mere beta could have managed to tempt him with such a simple gesture.

He turns his eyes to the tent when he hears the sound of the zipper being drawn down. The others have been asleep for a few hours now, but the flaps are pushed open and Gladio’s pulse speeds up when he sees Noctis poke his head out.

He clears his throat and fiddles with the etiquette on the bottle as Noctis crawls out and pauses to warm his hands by the fire, the shadows on his face dancing with the rhythm of the flames.

“You should be in bed,” Gladio says when the silence between them threatens to become uncomfortable.

“So should you,” comes Noctis’ reply, and there isn’t much Gladio can do to argue.

Noctis watches Gladio over the flames, his scent already drifting across the small distance between them. It’s different from the omegas he met at the camp in Leide, sweet but not cloying, and somehow as familiar as gripping the hilt of his blade. Gladio knows he could get used to it if he doesn’t watch himself, and he wipes at his nose and fixes his attention on the half-ripped etiquette on the bottle.

“You plan on sitting out here all night?” Noctis asks, the look in his blue eyes somehow scolding.

“It’s just for tonight,” Gladio says, voice thick as he struggles to sound casual. “I didn’t think you’d want me to- you know.”

“Gladio…” The darkness around them does little to hide the pain on Noctis’ face, and Gladio feels the same pain echo in his own heart. “I don’t want things to change between us.” He sounds desperate and afraid, and Gladio is reminded of the boy he’d been when they first met.

“I know,” Gladio nods. He’s tempted to cross the distance between them and lay a comforting hand on Noctis’ shoulder, but he remains seated in his chair, fingers clutched around the bottle of beer. “I know,” he says again.

Things are already different, the rules between them rewritten.

“I’m sorry I was so hard on you today. I can’t believe I put you up against a behemoth when you were…” Gladio shakes his head and rests his arms against his knees. “I should have known something was wrong,” he says, his grip around the bottle tightening. “I failed you. I-”

“Gladio,” Noctis interrupts, his voice soft as he circles around the fire. “You didn’t fail me.” Gladio’s shoulders tense up as he watches Noctis take a seat in the folding chair on his right, the barrier of distance between them gone. “You could never fail me.”

Gladio points at the scar over his eye, but Noctis doesn’t give him a chance to argue. He lays his hand on Gladio’s forearm and they both exhale a quiet sigh at the contact.

“I know you’ll always have my back.”

The unwavering trust he sees in Noctis’ eyes fills Gladio’s heart with quiet resolve. He reaches over to clasp his hand behind Noctis’ neck, the skin there still warm from sleep. “I will,” he nods.

They withdraw their hands and break the connection between their bodies, but the silence that follows is a comfortable one. Gladio reaches into the cooler and hands Noctis a cold beer.

“So… You and Luna,” he begins, watching Noctis from the corner of his eye. “I take it that she knows?”

“Yeah,” Noctis nods, taking a sip of his beer. “She’s one of the few who does.”

“Guess it would have been impossible to keep the truth from her,” Gladio muses, the match between a female beta and an omega doomed to be childless.

He scratches his stubbled cheek and he can’t help but wonder about the future of the marriage, provided that Luna is alive and the current mess with the Empire hasn't canceled out the chance of a future union between Lucis and Tenebrae.

“How exactly is the marriage with Lunafreya meant to work?” Gladio asks. “You two can’t… I mean, she can’t claim you, not the way an alpha can.”

He has no doubt that both Luna and Noctis would grow to love one another over time, but the thought of Noctis suppressing his nature and spending the rest of his life without a mate bothers him more than he’d like to admit. He’d made that same decision two years ago, but the knowledge that his loyalty and focus would shift away from Noctis the moment he took a mate is enough to keep him on his chosen path.

But a sacrifice willingly made doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Noctis looks uncertain and shakes his head, his brows pinched under his dark fringe. “I suppose I’ll never take a mate either,” he says, and Gladio’s heart aches at the resigned note he hears in Noctis’ voice.

The following days pass without incident as they drive around Duscae in search of easy work. Noctis can tell Gladio regrets the behemoth hunt he’d picked for them, and he makes sure the hunts they accept aren’t too challenging, just simple pest cleanups and the occasional delivery job. The pay is low, but it’s enough to buy them a roof over their head each night and a couple of warm meals at the roadside diners.

Part of Noctis wants to protest, annoyed that no one even bothers to hide the fact that he’s being coddled, but he’s learning to pick his battles and knows he’s lost when all three of his friends team up against him. And maybe he kinda appreciates the slower pace after everything that’s happened, the recent changes in his life a lot to adjust to.

Still, they’re not as big as Noctis feared. Their daily routines remain much the same, but the things that are different leave him with a strange feeling of melancholy. His friends are still with him, but somehow it feels like much of the life he’s led so far is gone for good.

Gladio begins to rent his own room at the motels when they can afford it, and if the price is too high, he takes his trusty tent and pitches it in the vicinity of the small rest stops while Noctis rooms with Ignis and Prompto. He has no choice but to respect Gladio’s decision, but his absence leaves a hole that’s impossible to fill. Prompto tries to cheer him up with card games or King’s Knight, and sometimes he drags Noctis to a pinball machine when they stop to eat, but none of it works, and Noctis finds himself in a sulky mood the moment Gladio wishes them a goodnight and retreats to his room.

Prompto offers to switch seats with him whenever they have a long drive ahead of them, and Noctis knows he should probably accept, but some stubborn part of him wants to cling onto this small piece of normalcy. He ignores the disapproving scowl of Gladio’s brows every time they set out, seating himself at his side like a petulant child, but Gladio’s protests don’t go beyond the occasional gruff sigh, and Noctis suspects Gladio isn’t ready to let go of their seating arrangement any more than he is.

The beasts they hunt are small and offer no real challenge, but Gladio hovers even more than before, never more than a few feet away from Noctis’ side the moment they draw out their weapons. Noctis’ senses are back to normal, but he avoids warping long distances, the memory of the disastrous battle against the behemoth hard to shake.

The dulling of his senses had left him immune to Gladio’s alpha presence, but with the veil of the suppressants now lifted, the omega in him begins to react to his friend in strange and sometimes surprising ways. Noctis can sense his presence even when he naps in the backseat with his eyes closed, and he wakes up feeling rested, the weight of his responsibilities somehow a little less heavy with Gladio nearby.

He’s aware of the way Gladio seems to watch his every move whenever they stop to eat or refuel and there’s another alpha in the vicinity. Even Prompto has begun to tease Gladio about it, calling him a big old watchdog, which does nothing to rein in the rapidly growing possessive streak. A week ago Noctis would have told Gladio to stop breathing down his neck, which is why he’s shocked to discover that the omega in him enjoys the way Gladio guards him, the deep loyalty both humbling and a little thrilling. It fills him with a sense of security and he can’t help but latch onto it now that everything else in his life is falling apart.

They finally receive some good news one early morning just outside of a small outpost south of Duscae. Noctis is barely awake as he stumbles out of the motel room, the asphalt in the parking lot still wet from the rains they had during the night. The woods around the pit stop are shrouded in cool mists and the chill in the air almost makes him miss their days in the sunny Leide.

“Morning,” Ignis greets him on his way out of the reception. “I’m heading to the shop for some coffee. You want me to get you a cup?”

Noctis shakes his head, the thought of still drinking coffee just to impress his friends childish after everything that’s happened. “Nah, I’m good. I could go for a root beer, though.”

“Very well,” Ignis smirks.

Noctis makes his way to the Regalia and finds Prompto already sitting in the front, his feet dangling out of the open door as he fiddles with his phone. The tailgate of the car is open and Noctis circles around to watch Gladio try to fit the camping equipment back into the small trunk.

“Yo.”

“Hey,” Gladio nods.

Noctis takes Gladio’s sleeping bag and puts it into the trunk to help him with the packing. “You sleep ok? It rained pretty hard.” He feels bad about being the reason behind Gladio’s forced separation from the group each night, but Gladio gives him a playful wink before Noctis can apologize.

“You know me. I love camping, rain or sunshine.” He pauses to look over Noctis’ shoulder, his smile growing even wider when he points at something across the road. “Looks like we have a visitor.”

Noctis spins around and feels a burst of joy at the sight of Umbra. The dog stands at the edge of the wood, watching Noctis with expectant eyes over the empty road.

“Umbra!” Noctis rushes to greet the dog and wraps his arms around its scruffy neck. He takes the familiar leather journal from Umbra’s mouth and flips it open, eager to see the message that awaits inside.

“Good news?” Gladio asks as he jogs across the road to join them with Prompto close behind him.

Noctis turns the pages with trembling fingers until he finds the message Luna has left for him. “She’s alive,” he gasps, and the wave of relief that washes over him leaves him breathless. “She’s in Altissia.”

“I told you,” Gladio nods, visibly happy about the good news.

Prompto sinks to his knees to bury his face in Umbra’s soft fur. “Good boy, good boy,” he murmurs, scratching behind the pointed ears.

Noctis begins to pen down his own message, eager to let Luna know that he, too, is alive.

“I guess this means the wedding is back on?” Prompto asks.

Noctis glances up from the journal and the pen in his hand leaves an inky blotch on the page. “I… I guess so.”

The overwhelming joy he’d felt only a moment ago begins to diminish as another, uglier emotion takes its place: disappointment. It’s followed by a sting of guilt, and Noctis looks away as both Prompto and Gladio continue to watch him closely.

He doesn’t know how the feeling has found its way to his heart, the knowledge that he’d be married off to Tenebrae’s royal family something he’d accepted ages ago. Why does he suddenly think there was any other path for him to choose?

Noctis finishes writing his message and gives the journal back to Umbra, who wags his tail and takes off into the woods.

“Let’s hope he finds his way back to his mistress,” Prompto says.

Gladio’s voice is gruff and oddly strained when he speaks. “We should get going.”

Noctis looks up and thinks he sees a shadow of his own disappointment on Gladio’s face, but his friend is already walking towards the car before he can examine it more closely.

They’re only a day’s drive from Lestallum and the air is already unbearably humid, the heat from the old meteor even worse than the scorching sun in Leide. Gladio yanks at the collar of his vest to pry it from his clammy skin and tries to picture the cool bottle of Jetty’s that awaits him at their next stop.

Noctis is asleep in his own seat and even Prompto is about to nod off, his eyes half closed in the reflection in the side view mirror. They’re missing out on some stunning scenery, the large stone arcs that rise in the horizon a sight to see, but Gladio doesn’t have the heart to disturb Noctis’ sleep.

He reaches into the compartment on the side of the door and pulls out a magazine he picked up at their previous pit stop while there’s still enough daylight for him to see the letters.

Things are finally starting to look a little brighter with the news of Luna’s death being nothing but lies spread by the Niffs, and the fast-approaching reunion with Iris has also put everyone in a good mood. Gladio has made sure to call her every evening after dinner to make sure she’s doing alright, and he’s eager to pull her into a proper hug.

His gaze flicks up from his magazine when he feels a warm weight settle against his arm. Noctis shifts in his sleep, his cheek pressing against Gladio’s shoulder, lips parted in a sleepy pout.

They’ve been on the road for several weeks now, but Noctis has never strayed away from his side of the backseat like this and Gladio feels startled, his entire body tense as he stares at Noctis.

Noctis continues to inch closer and Gladio can’t help himself, can’t stop his arm from lifting and wrapping around Noctis’ shoulder. He knows he’s crossing all kinds of lines with the simple act, but the feel of Noctis’ body against his makes something in him come alive, and Gladio pulls him even closer, allows Noctis to rest his face against his chest.

He stares at the crown of Noctis’ dark head, his hair windswept and pointing every which way like a chocobo’s tail. Gladio grins at the thought and he’s running his fingers through the silky strands before he can stop himself. He hesitates for a beat, but his self-control is unraveling fast and the connection between their bodies is igniting some inner greed in him. He closes his eyes and leans down to bury his nose in Noctis’ hair, unable to hold back the quiet grunt that slips past his lips as he allows himself to take in his sweet omega scent.

Gladio’s eyes snap open at the quiet cough from Ignis, who watches him through the rear-view mirror. He doesn’t say anything, but the arch of his brow is enough to make Gladio jerk back, his face flushing red with shame.

He withdraws his hand and settles Noctis in his own seat, careful not to wake him.

Ignis continues to watch him through the mirror, and Gladio turns his own eyes on the grassy plains as the heat on his face spreads down his neck.

They drive on until the sun begins to set and Gladio is out of the car the moment Ignis parks it at the gas station. He busies himself with the pump, pretending he doesn’t feel Ignis' eyes at the back of his neck.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a catoblepas!” Prompto announces, smacking his mouth and stretching his freckled arms over his head.

“I’ve yet to encounter a recipe that makes use of catoblepas meat, but the idea is intriguing. I might have to look into it,” Ignis smiles.

Gladio pushes the fuel nozzle into the filler on Regalia’s side and watches Noctis from the corner of his eye as he gets out of the car. His eyes are still glassy from sleep and it doesn’t appear he has any idea of what happened during the drive. He follows Ignis and Prompto to the diner, but Gladio sees him pause in the middle of the parking lot.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Gladio calls from the pumps when Noctis spins around and heads back to the car. “I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished refueling the the old girl.”

“It’s ok,” Noctis says, a small, awkward smile splayed on his lips. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the rusted gas pump. “I don’t mind.”

The Crow’s Nest is packed full, most of the patrons travel-worn refugees from Insomnia, and it takes a long time before the cook shows up with their order.

“It appears we’re not the only ones heading to Lestallum,” Ignis observes as he watches the people around them.

“Mmh. It’s the biggest city in the region,” Gladio nods. The crowd of people in the small space sets his nerves on edge and he can barely focus on his garulessandwich as his gaze keeps snapping to the large alpha in the next booth.

Noctis’ appetite is as good as ever, but Gladio doesn’t miss the way his foot presses against his calf underneath the table every time the alpha behind Noctis moves in his booth.

“Do you think Lestallum is big enough to have a proper pharmacy?” Prompto asks over the rim of his soda can. “Maybe we can get Noct some meds there?”

Gladio feels the jittery movement of Noctis’ leg as it begins to tap against the floor, and the alpha in him can sense the sudden flare of anxiety in him.

“You still plan on using them, right?” Prompto asks through a mouthful of fries. “I mean, you have to, right?”

Noctis’ mouth is a sullen line and his foot continues to tap against the floor under the table. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I have to.”

The diner is loud with chatter, but the silence that settles into their table is thick enough to slice. Prompto drops his gaze on his plate, aware of the effect his question has had on their prince. They all know Noctis has no real options, but Gladio can’t deny that some foolish, jealous part of him hopes the pharmacies in Lestallum are as poorly stocked as the ones in the backwater towns they’ve seen in their travels.

“Come on, I bet you twenty gil I can beat your ass in Justice Monsters,” Prompto grins, dragging Noctis up from the booth.

Gladio doesn’t know what comes over him when he grabs a hold of Noct’s wrist to stop him.

Noctis’s gaze snaps down to where Gladio’s calloused fingers are wrapped around the milky skin of his wrist. His lips part with surprise, but the rim of blue in his eyes turns dark when he meets Gladio’s gaze. There’s a small spark between them and Gladio feels the way Noctis’ pulse speeds up against the pads of his fingers.

“Something wrong, Big Guy?” Prompto asks. His voice is light, almost flippant, but his eyes are wary.

Gladio feels Ignis’ hand on his own shoulder and he finally snaps out of whatever it is that’s come over him. He releases his hold around Noctis’ wrist, but his eyes flick to the alpha in the next booth.

“Just… Don’t wander off too far.”

Gladio continues to watch Noctis over the row of booths as he and Prompto hunch over the pinball machines. He feels ridiculous, knows that Noctis is a capable fighter, but his urge to protect is slipping into overdrive against his will.

“Gladio.”

Gladio tears his eyes away from Noctis and flushes at the knowing look he sees on Ignis’ face. The guy is just too damn perceptive.

“You know he’s not meant for you.” Ignis’ voice is at once soft and firm as he folds his arms over his chest.

His words make Gladio feel like a scolded child. He digs his blunt nails into the palm of his hand and drops his gaze to his unfinished dinner.

“I know that.”

“The bond that already exists between you two makes him susceptible to-”

“I know ,” Gladio sighs. The thought of driving Noctis into an unwanted heat just with his presence makes his stomach twist with guilt.

“He might not be able to resist what both his mind and body are urging him to do, which means the responsibility of keeping him on his destined path falls onto you,” Ignis continues, but there’s no hint of judgement in his tone even if his words leave no room for argument. “You are his Shield. You have to be strong, Gladio.”

“I know,” Gladio repeats even as his eyes drift back to Noctis, who meets his gaze across the small diner, his smile almost shy as he keeps watching Gladio over Prompto’s shoulder.

It’s been years since Noctis has seen Gladio’s smile grow as broad as it does when he finally wraps his arms around Iris’ slender body and pulls his little sister into a hug. Iris lets out a quiet sob and they all pretend not to notice the sheen of wetness in Gladio’s eyes when they finally pull apart.

“It’s good to see you, kiddo,” Prompto smiles, and bumps her shoulder with his knuckles.

“You too, Prompto! I can’t believe you’re finally here.” Iris purses her mouth and shoots them all sulky glare. “You boys sure took your sweet time…”

“Yeah, well, there were more than a few bumps in the road,” Gladio says, and Noctis doesn’t miss the way his eyes drift to him before he turns them back on his sister.

“Hi, Noct.” Iris waves her hand and brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, her smile a little shy as she reaches out to pull him into a hug. Gladio blocks her with his body and she shoots her brother a peeved look. “Gladdy! What-” Iris eyes grow wide and Noctis knows his secret is out when he sees the tip of her pointed nose twitch as she begins to scent him. “You’re an… omega ?” she gasps.

Noctis’s skin prickles with shame, the stunned look he sees on Iris’ face a painful reminder of the shock most of Lucis would feel should they ever find out they have an omega ruler.

Iris’s brows pinch together as her eyes jump between Noctis and Gladio. “But Gladdy is an alpha! Isn’t it dangerous to… How do you-”

“It’s a long story,” Gladio interrupts, taking a gentle hold of Iris’ shoulders. “How about we all catch up over some lunch?”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard from you all day,” Prompto nods. He throws his arm around Noctis’ shoulder and they follow Gladio and Iris into the street. “You coming, Iggy?”

“I’ll book us rooms and run a few errands first,” Ignis calls from the front desk. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

The city of Lestallum is a strange mix of quaint and industrial, everything built around the ancient meteor. The streets are narrow and the buildings are framed by a sprawling network of pipes, the constant exhaustion of steamy heat from them making the whole place feel like a giant bathhouse.

Most of the locals they pass on the streets seem to be betas and omegas, but Noctis can feel Gladio’s watchful eyes on him as Iris gives them a tour of the city. She leads them into a small market place, the mass of people that swarms the place almost jarring after the open road. There are a number of stalls in the embrace of the tall buildings, the smell of spicy food and cheerful music filling the air in equal measure.

Prompto’s arm slips away from Noctis’ shoulder when something in one of the stalls catches his eye, and he disappears into the crowd, but Gladio is at his side before Noctis has even noticed Prompto’s absence. He tilts his face up, his eyes fond, but Gladio looks away and something in his demeanor shifts, the wide breadth of his shoulders visibly tense under the open leather shirt.

“Gladio?” Noctis lifts his hand and touches his fingers to Gladio’s forearms. “Is something wrong?”

Gladio bows his head and watches Noctis from the corner of his eye. “Noct… you shouldn’t touch-”

“Man, it’s hot in this place,” Prompto complains as he re-emerges from the crowd, the strange moment between them interrupted. “I guess Gladio’s questionable taste in fashion is finally paying off.”

The comment earns Prompto a light slap on the shoulder from Gladio, who seems relieved by the distraction. Iris waves her hand at them from the back of the market and points at the small restaurant behind the stalls.

“That place sells the best spicy skewers. You guys have to try them!”

“I won’t argue with that,” Prompto announces.

They all take a moment to order their food, but as soon as the cook disappears into the kitchen, Iris’s mouth opens to let out a flood of questions. "When did you find out that you're an omega? How did you hide it so well? Even I couldn't smell it on you, and I'm an alpha like Gladdy."

"That's enough, Iris," Gladio says gruffly, his mouth full of skewered meat.

Iris rolls her eyes at her brother and lets out a wistful sigh. “You and Lunafreya would have made such a lovely couple."

“He’s still gonna marry her.” Gladio’s eyes are unreadable, the curve of his darkly bristled jaw tight.

Noctis digs into his steaming plate of skewers to hide the sudden jab of hurt in his chest. He tries to tell himself that there’s nothing to be upset about, but Gladio’s blunt reminder of Noctis’ duty makes the food in his mouth taste like ash.

Ignis joins them halfway through the meal and they share their leftovers with him and he in turn shares the news he’s managed to learn on his errand run.

“The Empire’s presence in Gleigne isn’t as bad as it was in the east, but we can’t linger here too long.”

He pulls Noctis aside when they’re about to leave and hands him a small plastic bag from the pocket of his coat, the familiar green seal of Lucian healers on the side enough to tell what’s inside.

“It’s only a simple heat and scent suppressant, but I believe it’s still better than nothing,” Ignis says discreetly. “It should see you safely to Altissia.”

Noctis shoves the bag into the pocket of his coat and mumbles Ignis a quiet thank you, the relief he knows he should feel completely absent in his heart. In its place is a crushing sense of disappointment and longing for a life that was never going to be his.

Noctis sits on the edge of the bathtub, his eyes fixed on the course of suppressants in his hand. He knows what he has to do, his thumb already pressed against the small pill, ready to pop it free from its plastic seal. He barely knows the woman Luna has grown into since the brief time they spent together in his childhood, but he will never break the promise he’s made to her, the path he must walk clear in his mind.

And still he hesitates, the want in his heart difficult to quell.

He gets up and turns to look out the small ventilation window, the soft whir of the cable car drifting in as it passes over the hotel. It’s past ten, but the streets are full of life, visitors and work-weary women from the plant enjoying the local nightlife.

Iris and Prompto are out with Talcott with Ignis as their chaperone, but Gladio had stayed behind, refusing to leave the hotel when Noctis announced he wasn’t in the mood for a night on the town. He has is own room at the end of the hallway, but the distance does nothing to silence the growing urge Noctis feels to seek him out. He knows he should fight it, but he’s barely aware of dropping the suppressants in the sink, and for the first time in his young life, he gives in to his nature.

The hallway is quiet when he slips out of their room, the low chatter between the receptionist and the cleaning lady drifting up the stairway. He’s left his jacket and boots behind and his bare feet press softly against the carpet as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hallway. He can see a beam of blue light underneath the threshold, the muffled sound of the television audible through the door.

He raises his hand in the air, the knowledge that everything will be too late after tonight leaving no room for hesitation as he raps his knuckles on the lacquered wood.

The door opens a moment later and Noctis feels his skin prickle when his eyes land on Gladio’s bare chest. His hair is wet, the long mullet pulled into a loose bun at his nape, and Noctis’ nose twitches at the smell of soap and musk.

“Noct? ” Gladio’s hand shoots down to clutch at the towel he has wrapped around the curve of his hips. “What are you doing here?!”

Noctis has to tear his eyes away from the firm line of Gladio’s abs, the familiar sight somehow completely different when he’s out of his shirt. He looks up and the open shock he sees on Gladio’s face sends his resolve unraveling, his cheeks flaring with heat.

“Can I...uh,” Noctis mumbles, the words barely above a whisper. “I’d like to come in.”

Gladio shakes his head, the hint of fear in his eyes a strange and foreign sight. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says, but he does nothing to stop Noctis from inviting himself into his room.

The air is humid from the shower, the faint smell of soap already drowning under Gladio’s own alpha scent. The comforter on the bed is rumpled and the pillows bear an impression from Gladio’s head where they’re piled against the headboard. It’s not as fancy as the room he’s staying in with Ignis and Prompto, but Noctis is glad Gladio is out of the tent for a change.

Gladio closes the tv and turns to look at Noctis. “Noct… This is not a good idea.”

Noctis remains quiet and watches as Gladio begins to pace in front the bed. His eyes are drawn to the inked eagle on the plains of his back, the way it shifts with the movement of his muscles almost bringing it to life. Gladio rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and takes a steadying breath as he finally ceases his pacing.

“Why are you here, Noct?”

“You know why.” Noctis is surprised to find his voice so steady even as his stomach is in knots from how nervous he is.

Gladio takes a seat on the edge of the bed. He leans his elbows against his knees and Noctis can see the faint tremble in his scarred fingers where they hang between his thighs. He doesn’t meet Noctis’ eyes, but Noctis sees his walls are already coming down, knows they want the same thing. He can smell the want between them even if Gladio attempts to resist it.

“I’m gonna marry Luna,” Noctis says, his voice determined, though his heart threatens to waver. “I’ll go back on the suppressants after tonight. But I want-- before I have to...” Gladio lifts his face when Noctis comes to stand between his parted thighs and Noctis recognizes the familiar sense of longing for a future that will never be in his amber eyes. “Please. Just this once?”

Noctis gasps when he feels Gladio's large hands settle on his hips and the next thing he knows he’s being lifted into his lap, his thighs parted wide around Gladio's bulk. His lashes fan against his cheeks when Gladio closes the distance between them, and he clings onto Gladio’s shoulders, his blunt fingers sinking into the tattooed feathers.

The way Gladio mouths at his lips leaves Noctis breathless, his kisses full of pent-up want that’s finally allowed to flow freely. The scrape of his beard against Noctis’ chin sends a shiver down his spine, the burn of it welcome. Noctis knows he can’t match Gladio’s skill, but Gladio doesn’t seem to mind as he buries his fingers in the dark strands at Noctis’ nape, the grip possessive but gentle.

He’s already hard inside his pants and he can’t stop himself from grinding down, his back arching when Gladio’s hand leave his hips to reach between his thighs. Noctis gasps into the kiss when the heel of Gladio’s palm against his crotch and he rocks into it, drinking in his alpha scent with greedy inhales.

“Lift your arms for me,” Gladio urges, and Noctis is glad to find him equally out of breath.

He does as he’s told and Gladio pulls his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor. He lets out a deep, appreciative hum as he shifts his eyes over the pale, canvas of Noctis’ naked chest, his gaze lingering on the scars from his childhood injury.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, voice rough with want.

Noctis sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and gives an eager nod, moaning when Gladio cups his chest with both hands and flicks his thumbs over Noctis’ nipples. “You like this?” Gladio asks, watching the small nubs grow peaked under his caresses.

“Yeah...” Noctis drops his hand to his crotch and begins to rub himself through his pants while Gladio continues to play with him, and he’s not in heat, but Gladio's sheer presence has already made him wet.

He lowers his eyes and smiles when he sees the towel around Gladio’s hips is visibly tented. The sight of it makes him clench, the desire to be filled pooling in his belly and he arches his back in a wordless offer, breathing out a satisfied sigh when he feels Gladio drop his hand to the waist of his pants and slip it inside.

Gladio spends a moment just squeezing the supple curve of Noctis’ ass, one finger already teasing at his cleft.

“Please,” Noctis mewls, and his breath catches in his throat when Gladio finally slides a thick finger over his hole. He feels himself leak from the simple touch, but the raw and open want he sees in Gladio’s eyes keeps his embarrassment at bay.

“You’re so wet,” Gladio grunts as he dips his finger inside. "For me?"

"Mmm" Noctis mewls, clenching around the thick digit. He pouts at the loss of it when Gladio pulls his hand back far too soon, but he doesn’t have time to protest as Gladio wraps his arms around him and tosses him gently on the bed.

“Let’s get these off,” Gladio says, and he does a quick job of ridding Noctis of his pants.

Gladio leans back to take in the sight of Noctis' naked body on full display for the first time, his nipples peaked and cock hard and flushed where it hovers over his belly. Noctis' own eyes are drawn to the large bulge on the towel still wrapped around Gladio’s hips, the size of his cock easily visible where it threatens to part the white cloth with its girth.

“Fuck… You’re perfect. I always knew you would be,” Gladio murmurs, voice almost reverent, the ring of gold in his eyes swallowed by his pupils. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

Noctis’ brows knit together in mild confusion. “Taste me?”

Gladio’s smile turns downright wolfish and Noctis cries out when his thighs are yanked apart. Gladio uses his hands to lift Noctis’ ass from the mattress and the next thing he knows he’s on full display, his wet hole exposed to Gladio who eyes him like a proper feast. He tugs on the sheets when Gladio dives in, the warm gust of his breath against his hole a pleasant shock.

Gladio doesn’t waste any time with idle teasing as he begins to mouth around the sensitive skin of Noctis’ opening, and the scrape of his beard against his inner thighs and soft cheeks makes Noctis’ cock jerk. He's never felt pleasure like this, his medication robbing him of most urges, and he sinks his hands into Gladio’s damp hair, grinding against his face as indulges himself.

Gladio allows the touch, lets Noctis take his pleasure as he slides his tongue into him over and over again. He wraps his sword-calloused fingers around Noctis' straining arousal and the combined sensation sends the cord of pleasure in his belly unraveling.

“Wait! Wait-” Noctis comes with a sharp little cry the moment Gladio’s thumb brushes against the slick crown of his cock, and he clenches a tuft of Gladio's hair in his fist as he spills all over his knuckles.

Gladio leans back and watches Noctis with a pleased smirk on his lips. “Sensitive, are you?” His chin is wet with Noctis’ own slick and his cock pulses out a few more drops when he sees Gladio lift his hand to his mouth, his tongue flicking out for a taste of Noctis’ come.

He keeps his eyes on Noctis as he reaches down, and Noctis can’t help the excited little cry that escapes his lips when the towel around his hips finally comes undone. There’s a rush of blood in his ears, and his thighs fall apart with a burst of want as he finally gets a look at Gladio’s hard cock.

Gladio wraps his hand around the heavy girth of it and gives himself a slow stroke. He’s uncut, but the soft hood of his foreskin pulls back with the movement of his hand and reveals a bead of slick clinging to the slit. Noctis licks his lips and watches it roll down the shaft as Gladio gives himself another squeeze. His eyes land on the slight swell at the root of Gladio’s cock and he can tell Gladio smells the fresh pulse of slick between his cheeks at the sight of his knot.

"Can I fuck you?" Gladio asks, still allowing Noctis to hold the reins.

Noctis parts his thighs, and reaches between his thighs to dip one of his own slender fingers into his body to show just how much he wants it.

Gladio chuckles, but he shakes his head and motions for Noctis to turn around. “I want to mount you,” he says softly.

Noctis scrambles to obey, settling on his hands and knees, his back arched in a low bow as he presents himself for Gladio.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Gladio murmurs behind his back, the mattress bouncing as he comes closer.

They both know Noctis has never done this before and Gladio’s touches turns gentle when he caresses Noctis’ flanks, his hands sliding over the lightly muscled plains of his back before trailing down. He parts Noctis’ cheeks and strokes two of his fingers over his hole, slick and open, and there’s no hint of discomfort as Gladio slides them in.

Noctis watches Gladio over his shoulder, his eyes drawn to Gladio's cock as he fuck into his own fist, getting himself ready. He continues to prepare Noctis with his fingers, adding another as Noctis relaxes for him, and by the time Gladio is fucking him with four thick digits, Noctis is about to come for a second time. His hole clenches around Gladio’s hand, desperate to keep him in when he begins to pull out.

“You’re ready for me.” It’s not a question but a statement, and Noctis gives an eager nod.

Gladio settles behind him, the head of his cock brushing against Noctis’ wet opening as the he folds himself over his back. His chest is warm where it rests against Noctis’ spine, the clean smell of his sweat and alpha musk intoxicating.

Noctis whimpers into the pillow when he feels Gladio slide in, the hard girth of his cock stretching him much further than his fingers.

“Relax,” Gladio murmurs when he hears Noctis’ shallow breaths. He stills his hips and gives him a moment to adjust, his hand on Noctis’ cock a welcome distraction as he struggles to work past the mild burn of the stretch.

Gladio feeds him another inch, the slick sound that follows making Noctis blush even as his cock twitches in Gladio’s loose grip. The room is quiet save for the sound of their bodies coming together, Gladio’s harsh breaths mingling with Noctis’ strained gasps when he finally begins to move inside him.

The thought of giving all of this up after tonight makes Noctis’ heart ache, and he does his best to tune out everything but the feel of Gladio’s body enveloping his own, the thrum of pleasure that courses through his body every time Gladio slides into him. He’s losing himself in the haze of it all, the only thought in his head Gladio, alpha, alpha, alpha and he’s coming again before he even realizes what’s happened, wet droplets of his come spattering on the sheet beneath them.

He hears Gladio’s low groan in his ear, feels the warm puffs of his breath against his skin as he continues to rut into him, and Noctis blinks when he feels the rapidly growing swell of his knot against his rim.

“Noct…” Gladio’s voice is raw with a need that goes beyond the pleasure of their bodies. He mouths at Noctis’ shoulder until his lips find the sensitive spot where the slender curve of his neck meets the muscle of his shoulder.

“Yes ,” Noctis gasps, the feel of Gladio’s mouth on his bonding spot making him keen. “Please.”

There’s a scrape of teeth against his skin and Noctis finds himself tilting his head to offer himself for a claim, unable to resist the bone-deep need he feels for it, the rational part of his mind slipping away from him. “Please, please.”

Gladio gasps against his neck and there’s a hint of a bite, but he yanks his head away before he can sink his canines into the supple flesh. “ No.” The self-denial wrenches a deeply pained sound from his throat, but Gladio continues to resist the pull of their nature for the both of them.

The disappointment that blooms in Noctis’ heart is drowned under the sudden and intense pleasure of Gladio’s knot slipping into him. He molds his chest against Noctis’ back and it’s as if they’re suddenly one single being, their bodies locked together as he begins to spill deep inside him. The rush of his seed, warm and copious, makes Noctis’ half-hard cock twitch through one final orgasm, only a few watery drops spilling out as he pants through it.

Gladio settles them down on the bed, lying on his side and cradling Noctis in his arms while their bodies remain connected. He nuzzles at Noctis’ neck where his hair is damp with sweat and curling at the ends.

Noctis worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “What happens now?” he asks, struggling to speak through the tightness in his throat.

Gladio lays a soft kiss on the crown of his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But wherever the road takes us, I’ll be by your side, Noct.”

***