Chapter Text
“Hey, human! You, with the orange hair! The stupid one.”
Now, now, being approached by Sebek at any time of the day is never, never a good thing by default. The guy’s all haughty and loud and Waka-sama-ing his way through life all the time. It’s annoying. Even more annoying because, unlike some Housewardens, Sebek just doesn’t have the kind of power needed to back up that level of arrogance.
So, yep. He’s annoying, and throwing insults on top of everything is not doing him any favors.
Cater chuckles by his side. “Well, well, isn’t Sebek-chan quite lively today too?” His smile is brilliant as ever, but his eyes don’t quite reflect that same light. It would be unnerving if Ace didn’t know him as well as he does now. There aren’t that many upperclassmen in Heartslabyul that he could trust without him around. “I’m so relieved the two of you are getting along well! Should we take a pic to celebrate?”
Sebek splutters indignantly, his expression making very clear how outrageous Cater’s words are to him. And, truly, Ace isn’t quite sure which part offended the half-fae so badly, but that’s irrelevant because he feels the same way.
“Cater-senpai, can you please not lump me in with guys like him?” Ace huffs but, deep down, he knows it’s a lost battle. Cater always does whatever he wants, after all. Just like that stupid Adeuce nickname he came up with months ago.
Although… Ace can’t quite complain about that one. Not anymore, at least, after seeing how their relationship evolved since then. To think that the two guys who couldn’t stand to be near each other for more than five minutes would end up dating… Wow. Time truly is wonderful, isn’t it?
They’re boyfriends, and the thought of it makes Ace feel so giddy inside that he has to consciously remind himself of who he is with now and why showing such emotions would be a very, very bad idea. He really doesn’t need a fierce Draconian on his case about unsightly behavior, and he definitely doesn’t need Cater to use it as an excuse to upload the memory to his Magicam or something and—“So? What d’you want?”
Sebek’s mouth snaps shut audibly. It’s really obvious that he doesn’t want to be here either, but he pushes through whatever discomfort he’s having in favor of relaying his message. “I merely needed to inquire after your partner’s health!”
Oh.
Oh.
Ace’s entire demeanor changes at once. Deuce had to attend extra Alchemy lessons to make up for his slipping grades. Sebek happened to be pursuing extra credit, so Crewel had paired the two of them together in hopes that Sebek would help Deuce improve. They were working on some potion the previous afternoon that left Deuce too tired and annoyed to talk properly before bed.
And it had fucking hurt. A little. A little too much. But who could blame Ace? It was the first time they didn’t cuddle together after their roommates went to sleep. Anyone would be annoyed if their night routine was suddenly disrupted!
Yes. That’s all… That’s all there’s to it. Really. Ace doesn’t want to admit that he got spoiled and he absolutely refuses to be the clingy boyfriend type he always loathed.
He swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Did something happen yesterday?” he asks quietly.
Much to his surprise, Sebek’s volume drops to match his. “There have been no incidents all week. The project is proceeding smoothly and we’re on track to deliver the report ahead of schedule.” Ace blinks slowly. That’s… Not what he expected to hear. At all. Sebek sighs, his annoyance showing through the cracks once more. “Think about it! Since when does he focus long enough to get by a day without trouble?”
When he puts it like that, Ace can definitely understand how that would be trouble. Despite Ace’s constant claims, he doesn’t think Deuce is an idiot. He may not be academically gifted, but he’s resourceful and handy when it comes to real-life skills. And, though he also hates to admit it, Deuce’s magic is pretty strong. Ace is yet to break his shield during exams and that makes him simultaneously proud and infuriated.
His boyfriend is truly that amazing. It still stings to lose so badly to his rival, though.
“Now that you say… Deuce-chan was acting a little strange lately.” Cater tucks his cellphone in his pocket. There’s no trace of a smile on his face anymore. “He’s been working hard and got quite good at painting the roses, you see? But the other day he messed up three roses in a row. It was like we went right back to his first week at the dorm.”
Ace purses his lips. Deuce did not tell him that. But, well, they are both quite busy lately, with the finals incoming and all the club activities piling up on them. Maybe Deuce was just too tired to mention it, or maybe he didn’t want to waste what little time they actually had for themselves with small worries.
This must be a small thing, right? Deuce… Deuce would have told him otherwise.
Right?
“I’ll talk to him later,” he says after a moment. Ace isn’t quite sure how much he can help but, well, he’ll figure it out. They will, together, as it’s been from the start. “But, uh, thanks. For caring. That’s actually nice of you.”
The compliment seems to catch Sebek off guard. Ace is too deep in his own head to really get what he pretty much yells back, and he continues deep in thought as he and Cater continue on their way to the library. They both have books they need to study, so they decided to go there together before their own club activities started.
“You know you can count on us, right?” Cater’s words are unsurprising, although they do come quite suddenly. Ace knows. “You don’t have to tell us every little thing, of course, but… Well, I’m always here to listen.”
A long, heavy sigh escapes Ace’s lips. “Thanks.” He means it. “I just… I dunno. I feel bad? Like I should’ve done something earlier, before this started worrying others.” It’s neither logical nor reasonable, he knows, but… But feelings suck because they know no reason. “I feel like I failed him.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down a little, ‘kay? Cay-Cay may not know everything, but he can assure you this is not your fault.” Cater pats his shoulder, just once.
The touch is clearly meant to be comforting, but it just highlights how distant he really is. Trey always pats twice, and Deuce always gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. Ace really wishes he weren’t so attuned to these small details. They just serve to make him feel even more depressed.
Cater continues, unaware of the thoughts going through Ace’s head: “And, besides, you sounded more surprised that Sebek-chan noticed than anything… So it isn’t like you weren’t paying attention.”
“I mean, anyone would notice when your boyfriend starts coming up with bad excuses for small things every day.” Ace chuckles. There’s no mirth whatsoever in his voice. “I mean, how busy does someone really gotta be that they can’t even get a haircut done?” Especially someone as skilled with hair as Deuce is.
… Right. Ace supposes that’s where everything started: the mysterious magic that locked Deuce, Riddle, Jack, and Kalim in the library a few weeks ago. The entire thing had been truly bizarre to watch from the outside, but even Ace had to admit it was quite cathartic as well. It may have just been due to the circumstances, but their Housewarden chose to leave the tower on his own, disregarding the rules for once in his life. And Ace, well, he was proud of him for that. It comes with being friends—assuming Riddle thinks of him as a friend at all.
Not that he’ll ever say any of it out loud, of course. He refuses.
But that was when things started going weird… Starting with the fact that Deuce had yet to cut the hair he grew out with that potion. He keeps saying he didn’t have time, or forgot, or was too tired, but Ace watched him get up almost half an hour earlier every day to get it styled to his satisfaction for classes. And, sure, it often was no more than a ponytail or a low braid, but it was the effort he put into it that mattered to Ace… And what made him think.
If Deuce liked his hair longer… Why not just say so? Ace doesn’t really see the appeal or the need for it himself, but Deuce looks really good that way. And he looks happy and cute whenever someone compliments it, in that adorably shy way that could make one forget he can and will beat your ass in a fight.
And the fact that he can and will beat your ass in a fight while looking exceptionally beautiful certainly does something to Ace’s heart as is.
“…-chan… Ace-chan… Earth to Ace-chan…”
Ace blinks. He flinches when someone snaps their fingers right in front of his eyes. He looks at Cater, who’s looking at him with that smile he reserves for troublesome freshmen.
Oh. Ace was spacing out again, wasn’t he?
“Sorry.” He is. Mostly. A little. Hard to be sorry for thinking about his boyfriend, after all. “What was it again?”
Cater stares at him for a long moment. An exasperated sigh escapes him then. “Just do your best, ‘kay? And good luck.”
Ace isn’t sure why he would need good luck, but he nods and thanks Cater for it either way. The wisdom of third years is nothing to scoff at… Most of the time.
And, as Ace will soon find out, that wisdom was absolutely right this time around.
“I thought your mother’s birthday was last month?” Ace’s voice sounds deceptively casual. A flimsy, cracking mask, really: he’s panicking inside.
The reason for it is right within his hands. A fashion magazine, not unlike the ones Floyd enjoys flipping through whenever he decides to skip practice. Except, well, this one isn’t all about shoes and sportswear. No, this is… About dresses. And make-up. And all kinds of girls’ stuff.
The clothes and items are clearly not aimed at people their age. Or, if they are, those clients are surely on the modest, conservative side of things. Skirts that reach past the knees, pastel prints, loose shirts… It just screams married, middle-aged woman. Seven, Ace could easily picture his mother wearing most of these!
Deuce looks up from his homework, confused until his gaze falls on the magazine. His eyes grow wide as some of the color drains from his face. He looks like he just saw a ghost for the first time, and that just makes Ace feel more nervous. “Y-Yeah. I was just, um, getting ideas for gifts. For the holidays.”
Ace stares at him. “We’re not even in August yet.” Surely he isn’t planning on getting something for December now? “Isn’t it a little too early for that?”
“Yeah.” His cheeks instantly look redder than Riddle’s hair, and that is a feat of nature, really. “But these things can be expensive. I gotta save up if I wanna buy something nice.”
A sensible enough explanation. Deuce does pass up group outings and activities often because of money. Ace pays for most of their proper dates—happily, for he wants only the best for them and he does have the means to—as well… So, yep, it would definitely be a believable answer if only Deuce was looking him in the eye.
Ace deflates a little. He puts the magazine down alongside Deuce’s other comic books. And, truly, his boyfriend is a little bit of an idiot for letting them together if he didn’t want others to find out. They’re always borrowing each others’ books in this room, after all. It’s absolutely annoying how even this side of Deuce is endearing to him now.
Love does seem to make fools out of people, huh?
But… If Deuce doesn’t trust him enough to share the truth of this one small thing, how could Ace possibly get him to open up about bigger issues? How can he be the boyfriend Deuce deserves, the partner he needs, if he’s not good enough to be trusted?
Ace plops down on Deuce’s bed. He opens both arms. Deuce looks at him dubiously for a moment, a quiet consideration in his eyes that makes Ace’s heart ache. But then he sighs and crawls right into Ace’s awaiting arms. He’s heavy, but Ace doesn’t care. He just buries his nose in the curve of Deuce’s neck.
Deuce hugs him back. His hold is a little bit too tight, but, again, Ace doesn’t fucking care. He’d much rather be squeezed dry by his boyfriend than be without his boyfriend at all. And Deuce smells nice today, too. Really nice… A bit sweeter than usual, in fact. Did he change his shampoo? Or maybe his soap? Ace isn’t sure.
He likes it. It makes him think of how pretty Deuce looked that day, with all those flowers decorating his hair. It had pained Ace immensely to be physically apart from his boyfriend at the time. He wanted to touch him, and hug him, and card his fingers through that soft-looking hair…
“I love you,” he whispers, holding Deuce just a little tighter, a little closer, out of fear. Fear of losing him, fear that someone better might appear and command Deuce’s attention and heart away the same way Deuce did with him. “I always will. You know that, right?”
He can feel Deuce shake against him. He nods, “I do.” Ace can’t help but wonder, do you really? Do you know the shit I would do for you, just for a chance at being loved by you? He can’t get the words out no matter how hard he tries. Deuce continues: “And I love you… I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.”
Now that is a sentiment Ace can absolutely relate to. He pulls Deuce into a kiss. Slow, deep, a silent confession. Deuce kisses him back with just as much love, just as much desire. His hips move just so, his clothed erection pressing down against Ace’s.
Oh. This is not the direction he assumed the conversation would take, but Ace supposes they both need it. He feels like it’s been ages since they got intimate like this, and Ace’s getting to the point where he genuinely worries he’ll cum in his pants just from Deuce grinding against him.
Fortunately, that doesn’t happen. Deuce is pulling back before Ace can make a fool of himself. Instead, his boyfriend sinks to his knees on the floor. He places both hands on Ace’s thighs. The message is clear enough.
Ace scrambles to free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear. He’s already half-hard and eager, and something in him twists when he sees the way Deuce’s eyes soften at the sight. He’s pleased with Ace, with how easily his body reacts to him, and it truly shows. Ace bites his lip, hard, to keep himself from whining when Deuce’s gloved hand touches the base of his cock.
“I’ll make this quick,” Deuce says quietly. His voice sounds deeper than usual. He’s far from unaffected. “I need to do my homework still... And we don’t know when the others will be back.”
That’s true. It still doesn’t make things any less frustrating. He wants to do so many things to Deuce, to ruin him to anyone but himself, but there’s never enough time, or enough privacy, or anything that’d make things possible.
He wants him so much it hurts.
Deuce leans closer. His breath hits the sensitive head of Ace’s cock. Not even biting his lip can fully keep him from moaning audibly. And then Deuce swipes his tongue over the slit, slowly teasing him until Ace loses his sevendamn mind.
Fuck.
Ace reaches out. He grabs the back of Deuce’s hair just hard enough for him to feel it. He doesn’t pull the strands, not in any way that would ruin his ponytail. Well, not fully ruin it, at least. Not that he thinks Deuce would mind it too much. He’s always been a bit of a masochist himself, much to Ace’s delight.
There’s no warning before Deuce takes all of him inside his mouth. Ace bites into his own hand to stop himself from making any loud noise. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—how could he have forgotten that Deuce has no gag reflex? Or the fact that he loves taking Ace off-guard with it, taking him whole whenever he expects it the least?
It truly goes to show how long it’s been since they did anything like this that Ace is already on the verge of an orgasm from this alone.
“Y-You’re so unfair,” Ace somehow manages to mumble under his breath. “Get up here, coward. L-Let me touch you too...”
Deuce’s entire body stiffens. For a moment, Ace worries that he said something absurdly wrong, that Deuce will stop and maybe realize Ace really isn’t all that great and decide he’s not worth sticking around, and, and—“Next time,” Deuce mutters, his lips brushing against Ace’s now throbbing cock. “Next time, you can do whatever you want to me.”
He takes Ace all the way in again before he can protest. And he sucks so hard that Ace sees literal stars. He cums on the spot, filling Deuce’s mouth with his cum. It’s embarrassing, really. Ace wishes Deuce would let him touch him, if only so he can feel reassured that he’s not the only one overwhelmed by all this, that Deuce is just as weak for him, as desperate for his touch as Ace is for Deuce.
But Deuce is pulling back, and Ace can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows everything.
A smile curls Deuce’s lips. “Satisfied?”
No, not in the least, not as long as he can’t give Deuce as good as he’s getting... But Ace can’t exactly say all that. He’s still too shaken, too overwhelmed by everything to want to risk upsetting Deuce more.
And so he nods, wordlessly. Deuce smiles, climbing back up Ace’s lap. He doesn’t seem to mind that Ace’s cock is still out, soft and sensitive. He hugs Ace with his whole body.
“Good,” he whispers. “I want you to be happy and content.” Deuce trembles. “I’m terrified of losing you.”
Ace’s breath catches in his throat. He pulls back to see his boyfriend’s face. Deuce is biting his own lip, his eyes downcast and brows furrowed. His fingers dig into Ace’s shoulders. Quiet. Worried. Scared. And Ace has no idea why. He doesn’t know how to make this better, how to make him feel happy and content again.
And that, that hurts much, much more than any lie, any secret Deuce could possibly keep from him.
“You won’t lose me. I promise you that.” It is, perhaps, the only thing he can say he is fully confident in this school.
Deuce chuckles. Seeing him smile is relieving, even if he can tell there are still shadows in his eyes. “Even if I’m not what you expected?” His voice drops lower, uncertain. “Even… Even if I change so much you can’t recognize me?”
“Yes.” His feelings for Deuce won’t change no matter what… And, maybe, that’s why they terrify him so much. “I mean, I love you even when you’re being an absolute dumbass. Can’t get much worse than that, can it?”
And to be absolutely fair… The smack was very much deserved.
Deuce’s cheeks are still all puffed when he moves on to resume his homework. His shoulders look more relaxed, though. A small win, if Ace’s ever seen one. He sighs. The back of his head will probably hurt like hell tomorrow—even more than now, for sure—but it’s definitely worth it.
He still doesn’t know what’s wrong… But this is a step in the right direction.
That’s Ace’s hope, at the very least.
Of course. As fate would have it, nothing ever goes the way Ace hopes for at Night Raven College. He should have known better by now. And yet, as the stupid, foolish boy he is, Ace can’t help himself. Seven, hoping is the only thing he can do at this point!
Because he’s weak. And he’s bad at having friends. And he’s terrible at this boyfriend thing. And he has no fucking idea why Deuce even gave him a chance when he’s like this. Well, no, he actually knows the answer to that one, and it’s simply because Deuce’s taste is terrible.
No, really, it is terrible. Who else would pick this absolute mess to be his boyfriend? Naturally, the same idiot who thinks hot pink and leopard print go together. And that idiot also likes eggs and chicks… For some reason? Ace doesn’t understand it. He really never will.
Ace sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that afternoon. He must have moved too much, though, for the next thing he knows, an eraser hits him square on the forehead. He glares at his roommate. Mao just glares right back at him.
“Look, you know I wouldn’t be askin’ you this if I had any other choice.” Mao’s nose twitches, and Ace is sure their tail is also shaking under their long ass sweatshirt. “I promise I’ll finish faster if you stay put.”
His gaze falls to the sketchbook lying on Mao’s lap. Unlike he and Deuce, Mao chose to pursue one of the art clubs. The teacher in charge of overseeing them wants to make an exposition with all their members’ works, with the human figure as their main theme.
If Ace were to be entirely honest, he doesn’t think he’s quite cut out for any kind of modeling. He doubts anything featuring him will look that good either—not because of Mao’s skills, of course, they’re frankly amazing, but just because Ace makes for quite the bland subject.
Unfortunately, Deuce is out of school for a competition against RSA, and there’s no way in hell Mao would ever ask for Brad’s help. The dude is absolutely insufferable, a jerk among jerks, the kind that somehow manages to make himself unlikable even by the assholes at assholery school.
“Y’know it’d be easier to stay quiet if I could sit somewhere more comfy, right?” And, well, sitting on the windowsill is far from comfortable. “Just a hint.”
“But then the lighting will be all wrong,” Mao argues. “And your profile looks better from this angle. And I mean it like, I can definitely understand Deuce when I’m lookin’ from here.”
Oh.
Ace looks away, but he knows there’s no real hiding how red his cheeks got. “Thanks… I guess?”
“You’re welcome.” Mao raises their pencil, measuring something before turning their attention back to the page. “For real, though. You’re handsome. You both are. Like those couples in ads for Valentine’s Day.”
A snort escapes Ace. He can believe that for Deuce, but him? Well, sure, he knows he doesn’t look bad. His parents are both quite good-looking, after all. Of course their genes wouldn’t fail Ace. But he has an older brother, and he knows for sure he himself could have looked a lot better. And then there are the guys at NRC… People like Vil, Leona, Malleus, Silver… Compared to them, Ace is just plain. He can admit that much.
And then there is Deuce. Ace still remembers the Starsending ceremony very clearly. He remembers how ethereal Deuce looked that day, some much like the wish-fulfilling fairy from picture books. Delicate yet powerful, commanding Ace’s attention like his entire world revolved around Deuce even before his feelings started to catch up to what his body already knew.
Maybe he’s biased. Just a little—In his eyes, Deuce is the prettiest person in the whole world. He doubts many people would agree with him on that. He’d fight anyone who dared say Deuce isn’t beautiful, though.
That is a simple fact of life, after all.
He sighs again. Ace can’t help but wonder if Deuce’s competition is already over. He misses him already. He hopes Deuce can have fun, regardless of whether he wins or loses… But, ah, it’s RSA. Of course he’ll lose. Just like every last game Ace played against them ended up in crushing defeats.
“By the way, what’re you guys plannin’ to do for school break? You live close to each other, right?” Mao’s eyes are focused on the paper as they keep drawing.
“Kind of… He lives like, two hours away by train.” Which, thinking about it, might not be that much time for Mao. Their country is a lot bigger than the Queendom, after all. “We didn’t really talk about it yet, though. Gotta get through finals before making plans, y’know?”
Riddle would probably behead both of them if they need summer classes to make up for any bad grades, though, so Ace really doesn’t want to consider that option.
Mao hums quietly. And then, in a voice that sounds too old, too wise for a high schooler, they say, “But that isn’t the only thing you didn’t talk ‘bout, is it?”
Ace stares. Just openly stares, unable to even try hiding his surprise. And then he remembers: Mao is a bunny fae. They’re older than most people at this school—definitely older than the teachers themselves—and their senses are as strong as any beastman’s. Of course Mao would notice something’s amiss. It’d be weirder if they didn’t notice anything.
Still, the thought of being so easily readable, so seen makes something uncomfortable settle in his stomach.
“I guess so…” Ace shifts in place. Mao doesn’t call him out on the change of position this time. “Something’s… Off about Deuce. And I know it’s troubling him, but he won’t talk to me about it.”
He’s seemed especially sad since their conversation. His focus in classes declined so horribly that Riddle added more tutoring sessions just for him, and even Jack came to Ace inquiring about Deuce. Apparently, his performance in their club started suffering too…
It worried Ace. Of course it did. But, well, his hands are quite literally tied until Deuce decides to really talk about things. Whatever these things may be. Ace really has no idea what’s going on, so how could he possibly help?
He feels even more powerless in this situation than he felt when he dueled against Riddle. And how ironic it is that all this magic he has still isn’t enough to magically solve this mess…
“He did change quite a bit,” Mao mutters. They tap the tip of their pencil on the paper. “Which is nice. He smells happier these days.”
“Does he?” Ace tilts his head, looking equal parts curious and doubtful.
The idea of anyone being able to smell emotions is honestly crazy to him… But then again, Leona sniffed him once and told him point-blank his magic smelled plain. He would have been more insulted if he hadn’t been so shocked at the time. He still doesn’t know what it meant by that either. Perhaps he should ask at some point, if he even remembers to.
The point is: this is certainly not the first time he has come across people who can smell more than humans could ever dream of smelling. It’s still crazy to him, but still not quite as surprising as the idea of Deuce smelling happy.
And, well, who could blame Ace? He’s had multiple people ask about Deuce already. He doesn’t look happy, and he won’t confide in Ace, and what little Ace managed to grasp from that previous conversation didn’t really help him understand what’s going on.
Mao nods. “Yeah! He smells like hydrangeas when he’s happy. It’s really nice…” Ace’s breath catches in his throat. He can only imagine how soothing it must be like to feel it. “I feel it the strongest when he’s with you… And when he’s getting ready for the day too. I think he likes looking pretty.”
Ace pauses. It’s true that Deuce’s been spending extra time taking care of his hair recently, and he seems to enjoy the process as much as he looks just plain satisfied with the results… But he never realized just how happy those small things made Deuce. Ace can’t help but wish Deuce had just told him that if it was the case.
But then Mao continues: “I mean, I think he likes it. But he also smells all bitter right after. It’s not quite his sad scent… It’s more like how he smells when he fucks up in homework.”
This definitely catches Ace’s interest. He frowns. “You mean like he’s stressed?”
“No, not that.” Mao scratches the back of their head. Their ears twitch; the movement is the only thing helping Ace tell it apart from the long white strands. One day he’ll figure out what kind of bunny Mao is. One day. “Um, remember that day the Housewarden scolded him in the lounge? It’s more like that scent.”
Ace remembers exactly what Mao is talking about. Deuce had stupidly believed the hedgehogs who claimed to be hungry and fed them a second time. Riddle was very angry about it and pretty much chewed Deuce right then and there. The next day, a second-year committed the exact same mistake and got the exact same treatment, so it really wasn’t Deuce’s fault. The hedgehogs are just too good at being tiny menaces.
But that didn’t make him feel any happier at the moment. He even talked about it with Ace later and shared exactly how the entire thing had made him feel: he was ashamed.
And Ace, he really doesn’t get it. Why would he feel ashamed about caring about his appearance? Or is it due to how he made his hair grow so much? Deuce’s sense of justice is often all over the place. Ace wouldn’t be surprised if he felt like the potion made him a cheater at the hair-growing scene or something equally stupid.
No, that can’t be it. There’s something else Ace is missing. Something big that would make this whole thing make perfect sense… If only he knew how to convince Deuce to talk about it…
“See,” Mao says in a low, conspiratory whisper, “people tend to open up more when they feel happy and secure.” Ace looks at this tiny bunny and wonders where in the underworld they’re going with this. Mao’s smile widens ever so slightly. “Who knows… Maybe a nice gift might help him feel more confident in your feelings and all that?”
Oh.
Oh.
“Mao, you are the absolute best.” After Deuce, of course.
There’s no real guarantee that it’d work, but… It’s a plan. Something he can try. And at this point, anything is much better than whatever he’s doing now.
“Sure, sure.” Mao’s smile softens. His eyes narrow, however. “Now, please, stay quiet ‘til I finish? I really wanna be done with it.”
Ace laughs, loud and clear. He can definitely agree with his friend this time. He can’t wait to get this over with… And to have another chance to go to Foothill Town. He has some shopping to do now, after all.
It’ll definitely be worth it.
“Bro.” Mao shakes their head, disbelief more than clear in their pink eyes. “You coulda given your boyfriend literally anythin’ and you chose the five-foot-tall egg?”
Ace glances at the bed on the other half of the room. Said egg occupies a huge part of it, all soft blue and fuzzy. It’s so big that he can’t even see Deuce properly—only his arms, wrapped around the plush toy, and his legs, crossed under it, are visible. He can hear him, though, and the happy murmur makes this whole insanity absolutely worth every sorcent.
He shrugs. “It was on sale.” Ace doesn’t dare mention that it was only a five percent discount, nor that it cost most of his allowance for the week. Some things are just better kept in secret and silence.
And… It’s nice to see Deuce being happy about something. This stupid giant egg may not fix everything, and it may only keep Deuce smiling for a short moment, but it’s way, way better than the absolute uselessness Ace had been stuck in all this time.
“Bro.” Mao laughs so hard that they almost topple over on their own bed. “You’re down so bad.”
Well, well, finally an accusation Ace truly can’t deny.
The door to their room opens. Brad walks into the room with a scowl on his face. Said scowl just becomes worse when he sees the massive egg toy on Deuce’s lap. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that Ace can’t really understand.
Mao does understand, though, and the look they give Brad could very easily kill. “Why don’t you say that again? If you consider yourself man enough for that, of course.” Which are certainly bold words for a bunny fae barely as tall as Epel.
“I said—” And Brad sounds so angry that it’s easy to forget he’s just a human. His voice certainly comes out more like a pathetic growl. At least, it is very pathetic compared to that of Leona, for example… “—that this is disgusting.”
That word makes something in Ace grow very, very cold. He glares at Brad. “Excuse me? What the fuck you mean?”
From the corner of his eye, Ace can see Deuce quietly setting his egg to lie on his lap. The blue pales in comparison to his pink clothes and dark hair—hair that falls loose all over his shoulders. He looks so soft and beautiful that Ace can’t help but hate Brad for putting that frown back on Deuce’s face.
Brad snarls. “This. All this—” He gestures wildly, clearly pointing at all of Deuce. “This is a school for boys. Real men. I thought you were one but now you’re just playin’ the princess and that’s disgustin’.” He turns to look at Ace. “And now you’re encouragin’ him? Isn’t being with a graker bad enough already?”
“What did you say?!” Ace is on his feet in a second, crossing the distance between himself and Brad in no time.
“Gra—” Mao looks between the two of them, completely lost. They came from the Kingdom of Heroes, so of course they wouldn’t understand.
Meanwhile, Deuce’s eyes widen, his face looking downright ashen. Unlike Mao, he knows exactly what Brad just called them and this is, by far, the worst thing that could have happened now. He’s already struggling with something and while Ace doesn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that it’s their relationship he’s struggling with, it’s still a fact that this will only make things worse.
“Say that again.” Ace glowers, teeth gritted with pure, burning rage. “Say it and see what happens to you, bastard.”
Brad doesn’t look intimidated at all. If anything, he looks pleased, like Ace is just proving whatever point he thinks he has. “Dirty grakers like him shoul—”
Fortunately for Ace, he doesn’t need to hear the rest of whatever Brad was about to say. Unfortunately for Brad, that is solely because Ace gave him the punch of his life. Deservedly so, of course, packed with every ounce of anger and strength Ace has in him.
“Ace!”
“Oh, fuck.”
Someone pulls Ace back. It takes him a moment too long to realize it’s Deuce. “Why did you do that?” Deuce’s voice sounds desperate. “If the Housewarden finds out—”
“So what?” Ace doesn’t mean to snap, not really, not at Deuce of all people. “I ain’t scared of a teapot tyrant!”
Deuce’s mouth snaps shut. He still holds onto Deuce’s arm with his shaking hands. He’s so clearly distraught, and yet Ace can’t find it in himself to feel guilty about his part in it—he’s not given the time to, for a shadow suddenly looms over him.
It’s all he can do to push Deuce out of harm’s way. Brad is almost twice their size. His punch throws Ace to the floor. He can taste blood in his mouth. It’s horrible. And it hurts. And Ace really, really should have just taken Deuce somewhere nice tonight. Even a late-night picnic near Sam’s would have been leagues better than this.
By all means, the smart thing to do now would be to back away. However, much like his dearest husband, Ace himself is an idiot. Perhaps he’s even worse than Deuce, for he doesn’t know how to pick his battles wisely… Or, well, he doesn’t know when to back down from something he can’t win.
Which is as good as saying that chaos absolutely reigns in their room. Brad is big and strong, but Ace is furious enough to give as good as he gets. Ace is beyond satisfied to notice a bruise starting to form around the asshole’s left eye. Brad cares so much about his appearance, this will surely make his next days miserable.
Mao must have gone out to get help at some point, for students poured in to separate the two of them. Some of them get hit in the process, and the effort takes far too many people to end the fight. Ace can barely hear the voices around him, his own screams drowning them out.
This is nowhere near enough. Brad deserves far, far worse. Ace would give him exactly that if only these people let him go. But no, they’re pushing him towards his own bed and pulling Brad out of the room. And Ace, Ace’s so mad, he’s so, so…
He chuckles. And the chuckle grows into a full-blown laugh. Everything hurts. His cheeks, his ribs, his hands, his arms, even his head. There’s blood in his mouth and dripping down his nose. His neck stings from bothersome scratches. And then, then he’s sobbing. Pathetically, he curls into himself as these wrenched, pitiful sounds escape him.
He just wanted to make Deuce happy. He had hoped this would help, that a nice gift would distract Deuce from whatever was troubling him. And yet, before he even realized, he just added to his boyfriend’s distress. He had a good reason, but… But how could he have failed Deuce so badly?
What a sorry excuse of a boyfriend he is. And of a friend and a man and everything in-between, really.
“… Ace…?” The bed dips next to him. Ace shudders, but doesn’t look up. He’s far too scared of what he’ll see if he does. He’s already proved he’s too big a disappointment tonight. But Deuce doesn’t move away. Instead, he leans his forehead against Ace’s shoulder. A hiss escapes him before he can stop it and Deuce flinches away. “Sorry,” he says quickly, “I shouldn’t have… Does it hurt too much?”
Ace shakes his head. Deuce sighs, so obviously relieved that it makes Ace’s heart ache. He clearly wants to say something else, but the entire room grows quiet all of a sudden.
He finally looks up. Standing at the door, Riddle stares at them with a furious look in his eyes.
Well, fuck his life, really. This will be a long night.
“Ace-chan… I didn’t want to be the harbinger of bad news, but this was incredibly stupid of you.”
And, somehow, having Cater of all people deliver the verdict of Ace’s idiocy doesn’t sting as badly as he assumed it would. Now that he has much pride left at this point, of course, but… Yeah. It’s like being called an idiot by a goofy older brother rather than your parents. The severity is greatly softened by that fact alone.
“Trust me, I know.” The pain all over his body is a great reminder of this. Trey had helped bandage his cuts and gave him some painkillers to ride the rest of the night. He’ll definitely have to visit the infirmary to see what the healing mages can do in the morning, though. Hopefully, they can prevent him from swelling too badly… At least, Riddle was kind enough to postpone the collaring until he receives medical attention.
He would be very pissed if he hadn’t.
“But that said… I’d have done the same in your place.” Cater’s eyes soften just so. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. The motion is almost delicate—and eerily similar to what Deuce’s taken to doing these days. “Deuce-chan is really lucky to have you.”
That… Ace isn’t sure if he agrees with this particular statement. He feels like Deuce would be better off without him. But, ah, his brother warned him so many times not to believe his brain after stressful events. The little voice in his head is quite the convincing little liar.
Or so Saul liked to say, at the very least. Ace wishes he could wholeheartedly believe his brother’s words as he used to as a kid.
“You’re his upperclassman, Cater,” Riddle interjects. “This is not a behavior you should condone.”
“Well, yeah, fighting is bad. And against the rules.” Cater looks at Riddle, though, with a small, small smile on his lips. “But even you must agree that it’s hard to stay calm and rational when someone’s being cruel to a loved one.”
Riddle falls quiet at that. Ace wonders if he’s thinking back to his overblot. To have his mother’s teachings and beliefs openly insulted in front of him… Ace can’t help but wonder if Riddle felt anywhere near the same pain and fury he felt tonight. It almost makes him want to apologize for everything… But, back then, he was justified in his anger towards Riddle. It was nothing like what Brad did.
Brad insulted Deuce for who he is. That level of cruelty is not something Ace would have ever done, not to Riddle, not to anyone else. And, he suspects, most people at school would have been equally disgusted. After all, they have the entirety of Pomefiore, whose Housewarden puts beauty above any notions of gender. And then there are those like Leona and Mao, who don’t really hide their feelings do not match the gender they were born with…
Oh. Ace frowns, something like the seed of a thought sprouting in his mind. Gender… Could it maybe—
“I don’t think comparing two wrongs makes any of them right,” Trey adds, ever the peacemaker, successfully snapping Ace out of his thoughts. “We’re lucky that none of you were injured too seriously.” Ace clicks his tongue. Unfortunately, Brad didn’t get out of this any worse than he did. “And, besides, if you had any problem with your roommate, you should have come to us. We would have figured something out together.”
“Oh, of course. You’d really have given a lot of attention if I came complaining that my roommate was rude.” He shakes his head. Brad had always been unpleasant, for sure, and he made nasty comments every so often… But it was never this bad. It never felt like he was directly targeting them for something they had no control over. For being who they were. “I bet we’d be encouraged to communicate better and compromise or whatever shit would get us outta your hair first.”
“That’s not true.” Despite his words, Trey’s voice sounds too weak to convey any confidence. “We care about the dorm. Of course we want people to feel comfortable and safe.”
I’m sure they felt very safe when Riddle was cutting everyone’s heads daily, Ace thinks bitterly. He knows better than to voice those thoughts out loud in front of the Housewarden himself, though. “So what’re you gonna do to fix this? Because, like, sure you don’t expect me and Deuce to be okay sharing a room with that guy after this.”
“Of course not,” Riddle adds quickly. A bit too quickly, in fact. “However, it might take some time to figure out better rooming arrangements. As things are, we would need to find someone willing to switch rooms with Brad and ensure his new roommates are also accepting of the change.”
Ace understands, rationally, that Riddle is right. There are no empty rooms in Heartslabyul, and all occupied rooms are packed with students. And the last thing they want is to make a change that’ll bring even more trouble in the future. As such, sorting this mess out is sure to be a nightmare for the Housewarden and his Vice…
But understanding that does not mean he isn’t mad. Frustrated. Absolutely despaired. He fears for Deuce and Mao, who are surely the ones most affected by Brad’s words. And Ace, he already knows he can’t beat Brad. Not physically, not in any way that makes the asshole think thrice before trying anything funny. How could he possibly keep the two of them safe?
Something must show on his face, for Riddle’s expression turns pained. He exchanges a look with Cater and Trey both. Then, he turns back to Ace. His voice sounds so small that Ace barely recognizes the teapot tyrant who ruled over Heartslabyul with an iron fist for over a year.
“If it would make you feel safer, I can grant you and Deuce permission to sleep out of the dorm until the matter is resolved.” That’s… Quite generous, considering this is still Riddle. He quickly adds, “Naturally, I still expect all of you to fulfill your duties in the dorm during the day as usual. The permission is merely for your nightly routine.”
“Y-Yeah.” Ace swallows. “I mean, sure. Of course. That… That’d be great.” The gears in Ace’s head are already turning as he speaks. He and Deuce could pack up and leave right away… Maybe Yuu would be kind enough to let them crash in Ramshackle Dorm again. He never turned them down, after all. But if that doesn’t work out—“Wait. What about Mao?”
“We didn’t speak with them about this yet, but I assure you the same offer will be extended to them.” Riddle reassures him. And then, after a moment, “As your Housewarden, it is my duty to uphold the rules and set a good example for the dorm… But, as a person, I cannot condemn your actions either.”
… Oh.
Behind Ace, Cater chuckles. “See? Riddle-kun can be really nice and reasonable too.”
That comment sets Riddle off, which in turn prompts Trey to enter mediator mode again. He doesn’t add anything else to the main conversation, though, which makes Ace wonder just what exactly is going through his upperclassman’s mind. A curiosity that Ace sets aside as soon as Riddle dismisses him.
Ace rushes back to their room. He half expects to find both his roommates inside, but he finds no one there. Panic is already starting to settle in when he notices a paper on his bedside table that wasn’t there before. Mao’s handwriting is unmistakable, scrawls so terrifying they make his and Deuce’s handwriting look like the finest work of art.
They’re in the bathroom. Deuce needed a shower, so Mao went with him. Ace deflates with the force of his relief, and he falls sitting on the edge of Deuce’s bed. The egg is still lying on the mattress. Ace reaches for it, hugging it like Deuce had earlier. It was just for a little while, but some of his boyfriend’s scent clings to the plush toy.
It’s not the same as hugging Deuce himself, but it’s certainly comforting in its own way. Ace lets out a long, shuddering sigh. His eyes burn. Ace does not want to cry. Now here, not now, not when he knows Deuce will be back any time now. He wants to be stronger than this. To be someone Deuce can rely on, someone he feels he can trust with his whole heart, just as Ace trusts him.
But it’s hard to stop the tears when the adrenaline and the anger are starting to go away. The pain sucks. The feeling of defeat, of failure, tastes so bitter that Ace would much rather be tasting his own blood again.
He was so happy seeing how content Deuce was with this stupid egg. It was the happiest he had seen his boyfriend in days. It made Ace feel so accomplished with himself, a step closer to maybe understanding what’s going better… And all that was gone in an instant, all because one asshole couldn’t handle seeing others being happy.
And Ace, Ace is still furious about that. He doubts that feeling will ever truly go away. But now he’s also tired, too tired to keep functioning on that fury alone.
This entire thing really, really sucks.
The door opens quietly. Ace knows it’s Deuce even though he can’t see him. Those footsteps are too heavy to belong to Mao’s, and they immediately hurry towards him rather than leaving him alone as a normal person would. And that feels good. Knowing that Deuce still chooses him… It soothes some of Ace’s worries greatly.
“How do you feel?” Deuce asks quietly. The mattress dips with his weight. His hand rests lightly on Ace’s thigh. He doesn’t get closer, though. Perhaps he’s waiting for Ace to welcome him, or maybe he’s just scared of hurting him more.
“I’ll survive,” Ace manages to say. It’s not a lie, therefore it’s good enough. “You?”
Deuce didn’t get involved in the fight itself, so Ace knows he’s okay physically… But there’s no way he’s fine emotionally, not after everything.
“I’m… Doing well, everything considered.” Ace doubts that’s the whole truth of it. But, ah, he didn’t give Deuce the whole truth either, so why would Deuce give him his?
He purses his lips. Everything hurts, but nothing compares to the pain in his heart. Ace still doesn’t look at Deuce. “… I never really got in a fight like this,” he admits quietly. “Does it hurt like hell every time or…?”
He can feel the way Deuce stiffens by his side. And then, to Ace’s absolute surprise, he chuckles. “You’d be surprised. The headache is always the worst part. Especially when it comes from someone grabbing your hair. It makes it hard to think, y’know? So it gets annoying really fast.”
Ace huffs. Of course Deuce would know about this. He is, by far, the most experienced one with this kind of shit. It would be amusing if the circumstances were just a little different.
“I can imagine… No wonder you never grew your hair out before.” He can only imagine what kind of logistics nightmare that would become for someone who gets into fistfights as regularly as Deuce seems to have in the past.
“… Yeah…” Deuce shifts just a little closer. He doesn’t lean his weight on Ace, but their arms are touching now. “I did experiment a lot, though… I even had it red for a while. There might be photos somewhere at home. Maybe I’ll show you someday.”
The idea of Deuce with red hair is, honestly, very interesting to Ace. And quite exciting too. But, well, he’s always biased towards his boyfriend. All forms of Deuce are beautiful in his eyes, though some are certainly prettier than others.
Pretty. Not handsome. Just… Pretty.
“I’d like that.” Would Deuce still feel like showing him if he knew the thoughts going through Ace’s head? “If you’re okay with it.”
“You serious? ‘Course I’m okay with it.” Deuce’s hand reaches for Ace’s. His skin feels so warm, the touch so gentle that Ace almost feels like crying again. “Sure, it’s embarrassing, but… I can’t think of anyone else I’d be comfy showing that side of me.” Never mind, Ace really is going to cry. “… I’m sorry.”
Ace finally lifts his face from the egg to stare at Deuce. His boyfriend isn’t looking at him, though. His eyes are red and a little swollen. And, oh, so they both were crying. Ace wishes he could do something, anything to make things better.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Ace has never sounded this firm about anything else in his life. “You’re genuinely the only innocent person in this mess.”
Deuce sucks in a breath. His eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I could have helped you. I just stood there and watched you get hurt.” He shakes his head. “You… You should be angry at me. Or something. This all happened because of me and I did nothing.”
“No. No, Deuce, that’s not true at all.” Ace sets the egg aside to fully turn to look at Deuce. He doesn’t just look sad, but also angry. Guilty. Ashamed. It hurts to see him like this. Ace cups Deuce’s face, forcing him to look at him. “The only one to blame for this shit is that moldy bread. Okay? This is not your fault and I’d do this again a thousand times if I had to.”
Contrary to his best hopes, however, his words just seem to upset Deuce even more. He looks away from Ace, his lips pressed into a thin line. And that is what terrifies Ace the most. Deuce can’t close off from him now. Ace doesn’t know how he can possibly get through to him if he puts even more walls between the two of them.
The thought of losing Deuce not to someone else but to a mistake Ace himself made… He’s not sure he’d ever recover from that. And, even more than that, Ace doesn’t want Deuce to live in disappointment with Ace either. He deserves so, so much better than this, all of this.
“Hey. Look at me. Please.” Deuce does, even if it’s, oh, so clear that he doesn’t want to. “Let’s… Let’s talk about it, ‘kay? If you don’t wanna do it here, then we can talk at Yuu’s. Or anywhere else you want. Alright?”
“Yuu’s?” Deuce looks confused.
Ace nods. “Yeah. The Housewarden let us sleep outta the dorm until he finds a new roommate for us… So we’re crashing at his place again. Unless you want to go somewhere else, of course. I’ll go wherever you wanna be.”
Except here, he doesn’t say out loud. He can only hope that Deuce won’t want to stay, especially not tonight.
“Ramshackle is good,” Deuce says quietly. The relief Ace feels is almost palpable. “… Thank you. For everything.” His eyes finally meet Ace’s again. “I have fought a lot before, but… I never had anyone fight for me. Or to defend me. Not like this.” He trembles, and whispers, “I love you.”
Ace kisses him, a kiss that tastes like tears and despair and something like hope, a kiss that says I love you too.
A kiss that makes him feel like, maybe, everything will be alright again.
Just as Ace predicted, Yuu is gracious enough to let them stay without asking questions. Grim definitely asks a lot of questions, but they’re mostly harmless stuff like how many tuna cans they intend to pay for this favor. Neither of them asks why they’re there, and they don’t ask about Ace’s bruises either. Although, maybe, that has more to do with the overall darkness of Ramshackle Dorm, making them less noticeable than anything else.
The Headmage forgot to send someone to fix the electricity, Yuu explained, so they’re getting through the night with nothing but candlelight for a while now. Ace can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. Ramshackle Dorm was just as pitiful and depressing and dark the first time he and Deuce crashed here.
Back then, they had to sleep in Yuu’s bedroom, though. This time there’s a quite functioning guest room all for them.
He and Ace take their time lighting up more candles in order to see things properly. The room is full of trinkets and furniture now, stuff that matches both Ramshackle’s style and that of other dorms. Gifts brought by students Yuu invited in the past. It’s chaotic in its own way.
They make themselves comfortable on a sofa that looks exactly like the ones in Heartslabyul. It’s a bit too tight for two people, but they make do just fine as two spoons.
Ace buries his face on Deuce’s shoulder. One of his arms serves as a pillow for his boyfriend—a decision that, he knows, he’ll definitely regret in the morning—while the other remains tightly wrapped around Deuce’s waist. And there are no Brads here to make things horrible for them. It feels safe and nice, and Ace is so very thankful that they can have this.
He sighs. Deuce shifts a little, making himself more comfortable. Ace really must be too tired because his body isn’t really reacting despite the fact that they’re alone and pressed flush from head to toe. He’d normally never let a chance like this pass, and he knows Deuce feels the same way.
Oh, well. Next time.
Deuce’s hand finds his again. “It’s not too tight for you, is it?” he asks. Ace lets out a little noise. Deuce chuckles. “If you say so…” he falls quiet for a long, long moment. And then, “Earlier, when I got out of the shower… I tried to do it. Cutting my hair. I figured… I figured it was already time to do it. And maybe it’d make things easier if people didn’t have anything so obvious to use against me.”
But Deuce didn’t cut it. Ace can feel the braid tickling his neck every time he breathes. He holds Deuce just a little closer.
“I told you none of this is your fault.” This is the one thing he’ll never change his opinion on. “You don’t need to change yourself for the comfort of assholes.”
“I don’t want those assholes to hurt you.” Deuce’s voice gets a little louder, a little shakier. “But they will. Every time. Because you love me too much to ignore them.” Ace’s breath catches in his throat. That… He’s… “This is just hair. I lived without it my whole life. I can do that again.”
“It’s not just hair,” Ace argues.
He thinks about Mao’s words, how Deuce smelled like happiness every time he got ready for the day, and what Deuce himself shared earlier, about all the times he changed his hair in the past. This isn’t just hair. It’s how Deuce expresses himself to the world, and he finally looks content with how he looks. Ace refuses to let him give that up. Not for the sake of people who certainly don’t matter.
Ace sits up, and so does Deuce. They look at each other, two stubborn fools unwilling to back down, too convinced of their own ways to be willing to compromise. But, this time, Ace refuses to let Deuce have things his way. “It’s a part of you. And you deserve to be happy as yourself. And that means looking however you want, and acting however makes you happy.”
Deuce falters. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes. Yes, I know what the fuck I’m talking about.” Ace clicks his tongue. Brad’s words come back to the forefront of his mind. It makes all that anger threaten to resurface all over again. “Look, I don’t care if you wanna play the princess or be the princess or whatever. So fucking what? If it makes you that happy, so be it. I’ll go to town with you and buy you a whole new closet’s worth of clothes tomorrow if I have to. I don’t care.”
It doesn’t matter that most of his money for the week went to the egg—egg that Deuce insisted on bringing with them, to keep it safe and sound—or that Ace would have to ask his family for more to buy anything. Hell, he’d grovel to Saul if he has to. And he’d do it happily even if it means being teased about it for the rest of his life.
None of that matters nearly as much as making Deuce happy. That is, by far, the thing Ace wants the most. His boyfriend, happy and comfortable and satisfied by his side. He wants Deuce to stay forever, so he has to put in the work to ensure he’ll want to.
He suspects he didn’t do a very good job of that lately, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t keep trying to do his best.
He half expects Deuce to keep pushing, to bring some other nonsense argument… But he doesn’t. He just sits there, staring at Ace like he grew a second head or something like that. It’s honestly off-putting, especially when Ace has no idea what’s going on in his mind.
Ace doesn’t look away, though. He doesn’t dare to, not when he’s so terrified for… Some reason. He isn’t sure why. He can’t have fucked up again, right? He just said what’s on his mind… But maybe Deuce is angry at him for assuming shit, and maybe Ace got things all wrong and, and—“You mean it?”
Huh?
“Um, yeah? I mean, why would I lie to you?” he wouldn’t not about something like this… Whatever it is that Deuce means by ‘it’. As far as Ace’s concerned, it could just be about the closet comment, after all. He grimaces. “I mean, maybe we can talk about it? And replace your clothes a little at a time…?”
“Not about that, idiot!” Ace pouts. Pot calling kettle? The audacity?! But Deuce is shaking his head, and his hands are also shaking, and it’s so obvious that he didn’t mean to insult that Ace feels a little bad. “If… If I really wanted to be a princess—a girl—” The way Deuce says that word makes it obvious how strongly he feels about it. “—would you really support me?”
And, somehow, the fact that Deuce needs to ask hurts more than every last one of Brad’s punches combined. But then he realizes… This isn’t because Deuce doubts his love. He knows how much Ace loves him, how far he’d go for him. Surely he knows Ace wouldn’t give him up for the world.
No, this is all about a very different thing, a fear that Deuce already voiced days before. Even if I change so much you can’t recognize me?, he had said. Deuce isn’t scared of Ace not loving him anymore, he’s scared that Ace won’t love this new version of him.
“Of course I’ll support you. We’ve been through hell together, remember? It’ll take more than this for me to let you go.” Ace sighs. “But I’m afraid you won’t be my boyfriend anymore if you really go down that route.”
Deuce bites his lip. He looks absolutely crushed. And, well, Ace can’t blame him for this reaction. Unfortunately for Deuce, he wouldn’t be Ace Trappola if he weren’t a bit of an asshole at all times—and he is just a little bit peeved that all these weeks of worrying sick over his boyfriend really could have been solved by just talking for a few minutes.
And, fine, Ace knows it wasn’t just this talk. A lot more happened to lead to this. But still, he’s annoyed. And so very relieved. He can be annoying for one minute over this, as a treat. Deuce can even smack him over this if he wants. They’ll definitely be even then.
He huffs, smiling down at his absolutely lovely dumbass. “Now who’s the idiot, hm?” Deuce sniffs, but still manages to glare at him. Somewhat. It looks more like confusion than anger. “A girl can’t be my boyfriend… Guess you’re lucky that I’m totally fine having a girlfriend too.”
The moment the realization dawns on Deuce is, perhaps, the prettiest thing Ace has seen in his life. He barely gets enough time to properly admire it, however, for Deuce is immediately throwing him—no, herself right into his arms…
And that fucking hurts.
Ace tries to bite back a pained groan but fails quite miserably. That seems to remind Deuce of the fact that he is, in fact, still hurting from a damn fight and she pulls away, frantic and apologetic. “I’m sorry! I forgot. I just—Fuck, Ace, why are you like this?”
“An asshole?” He tries very hard to sound funny. It’s way better than sounding weak and hurt.
Deuce shakes her head. “Perfect.”
Oh. That’s… Not what Ace expected to hear at all. And it probably shows, because Deuce’s expression grows softer. She isn’t angry at him. She’s just happy. And, if Ace had to guess, the room must smell like blooming hydrangeas now.
He really wishes he could feel that.
Ace kisses her. Because he can, and because he wants to, and because there’s only so much love he can keep inside before he needs to pour it all out. Deuce is careful enough this time around that she doesn’t put too much weight on him. And, sure, they still have a lot to talk about and figure out about this whole thing, but Ace doesn’t mind waiting until tomorrow to get some more answers.
For now, he just wants to bask in the comfort of knowing Deuce really wants to stay with him, and won’t let him go for someone else, and, well, that none of the things he worried about are real at all.
That, more than anything, is the best gift he could have asked for.