"Specs has the spare," Noct breathes, and Prompto, eyes wide with terror, vaults off him and to the other corner of the couch. He yanks the throw blanket off the couch's back and onto his lap, not an instant too soon. Because the door clicks open and then there's Ignis, toeing off his shoes and stepping into the entryway. "Good evening," he says, pleasant and mild. "Hey," Noct answers, pretending at indifference. "Hi," squeaks Prompto, face a remarkable shade of red.

"Just, you... you don't have wings." Noct gives him a funny look. "Who says I don't?" he laughs. In the world of Eos, legend has it one's wings are the physical manifestation of one's soul. Prompto does not have wings; instead he has two large scars on his back. (Kinkmeme fill, complete.)