When Prompto pulled away, he saw that Noctis was frowning, a pout on his lips.
“What?” He laughed, amused, and Noct’s pout only grew.
“You taste like coffee,” he complained.
The Most Wonderful Time of The Year, part vi
*cackles* this chapter is just flowing out so smoothly; like the words are coming so easy its kind of hard to believe.
Find the rest of the fic here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8999950/chapters/20551579