chef_chocobro | Office Hours: Office #27; Thursday [04/08].

Well. They had been warned.

Ignis was starting to feel that he really did not give Summer enough credit about her acumen for these sorts of things, but, in his defense, it was easy to be a little skeptical about the voracity of something she'd described delicately as 'horny pollen', especially when his own colleague had insisted that it really wasn't 'all that bad.'

He could tell by the way that Prompto was expressing even more frustration than usual with his mobile phone game that his colleague's memory on this particular event had not served him well. Not all that bad, indeed.

But he was trying his best to not be affected by it, especially since the whole notion certainly would do an awful lot to break past a certain collectiveness he tried to always present. It didn't help that, since Prompto had decided he needed to be Ignis' prom chaperone date so that Ignis could have a prom (a notion that he was, unsurprisingly, out-voted on when he'd suggested it was unnecessary), class tomorrow was pretty easy with what they would be doing together, so he didn't even have that much to research or study. He did find himself attempting to fall down a rabbit hole regarding pollens and allergies in the hopes to stumble across something that might shed some light on this particular phenomenon.

He, of course, had to contend with the unexpected side-effect of Prompto being surprisingly distracting. On a yellow beanbag chair dragged over from Summer's office (which Prompto still had access to...i.e. could still break into...from the days when it used to apparently be his 'clubhouse'), Prompto's little grunts and exhaltations of frustration at doing poorly on his game were distracting, and it didn't matter if he was shifting around a lot as if that would help his virtual avatar's movements or sitting still with lip-biting focus and concentration, he was finding himself noticing him far more than he was entirely comfortable with.

So he hatched a plan to take care of it. One that could completely backfire, but...that was a risk Ignis was willing to take right now.

"You know, Prompto," he ventured, "in doing some more research on what might expect out of prom on this planet, I came across an interesting suggestion that it is actually somewhat of a tradition to use it to reach a milestone in one's adolescent sexual conquests...."

Prompto, who had actually reached such a milestone in his own 'adolecence' of, like, two years ago, just looked at Ignis for a moment, heard the sound of his avatar dying a horrible death on his screen, and just gawked, because...

"Dude. Come on."

"I'm just saying," said Ignis loftily, "if you're so set on the idea of me having an authentic prom experience..."

"...duuuuuuuude....don't...."

"Perhaps my roommate would appreciate it if I were to make arrangements at the hotel for tomorrow night instead?"

"You are not funny," Prompto informed him, face blazing so red Ignis could practically count his freckles from where he sat at his desk. "That's not funny, Ignis. That's not what I meant!"

"Which room was it you and Noctis stayed in last time? Was it the Honeymoon Suite? That sound perfect. Unless...I wouldn't want it to be awkward for you?"

Prompto's expression made it clear that, right now, he was really doubting Ignis' concerns about making him feel awkward because he was doing a pretty good job of already making him awkward.

And what was even worse was that Ignis didn't even seem bothered by any of this! How could he not? Was Ignis actually, like, a robot or something?

"Screw this!" Before his thoughts started to drift into ways of maybe finding out if Ignis was actually a robot, Prompto pushed himself up (awkwardly, there was no smooth way to get out of a beanbag chair even when you weren't being made all wierdly hot and bothered by your coworker) and approached the desk, holding out his hand. "I'm going for a run. Gimme your keys so I can get into the apartment and shower after."

"Why not just swing by here and I'll let you in and I can help? Or perhaps Seivarden would be so inclined."

No. He wasn't a robot. He was a daemon. A monster. Prompto narrowed his eyes. "This was a mistake."

Ignis just smiled softly and set the keys in Prompto's hand. Any lingering fingers that happened actually were not part of his plan, much to his annoyance. "A run will do you well," he decided.

And then waited until he was certain Prompto had stomped far down the hallway if not out of the building entirely before letting out a long, long breath of relief that he felt like he'd been holding for a very long time, felt the own rush of something like a blush creep into his face now that he was alone, and he shook his head, loosening one of the buttons of his shirt, and feeling it really was a shame there appeared to be nothing on the market at the moment for an antihistamine against sex pollen specifically.

Still, he had to admit, this was excellent practice in keeping his cool under the most trying of circumstances...

[[ open door, open office, open post! my head is sometimes a very magical place ]]