Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One - The Weight of Old Promises 

"No matter what happens, Acey, we’ll always be together—just us two. No one could ever come between us, hehe."

Skylar’s childish lisp and wide, carefree grin were etched into Ace’s mind, along with those words—the promise that once meant everything.

So much for sticking together.

Ace’s grip tightened around the strap of his backpack as he walked through campus, his head heavy with thoughts.

He’s not even walking with me anymore. He’s walking with her.

It was stupid to feel like this. Skylar was his best friend—had been forever. It was always them against the world. That was, until she showed up.

Lately, it felt impossible to steal even a single moment alone with Sky. Somehow, that girl always knew when they were together, swooping in and pulling him away. Ace clenched his jaw.

Fuck. Where’s all this jealousy even coming from?

He should be happy for Skylar, right? His best friend found love. That’s what people wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe that was the problem. Or maybe it was the unsettling heat rising in Ace’s chest every time Skylar touched him—the kind of warmth that made it impossible to ignore the gnawing gay panic creeping in.

“...Ace! Ace! Hello?!”

The familiar voice jolted him back to reality, making his heart stutter in response.

“Oh, hey man,” Ace managed, forcing an easy smile as he glanced over at Skylar, who had suddenly appeared at his side. It wasn’t surprising—Sky always found him around this time. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” he asked, feigning nonchalance, though just mentioning her made his chest tighten.

Skylar stiffened slightly, a reaction Ace didn’t miss. Weird. Were they fighting? He didn’t want to pry, afraid of touching on something too delicate.

“She’s with her friends,” Skylar said with a grin, his voice laced with something Ace couldn’t quite place. “That means we can spend some time together.”

Ace’s breath hitched. God, if he keeps smiling like that, staying casual is gonna be impossible. He’s killing me.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Ace shrugged, eyes fixed straight ahead. Looking at Sky was getting too hard—too overwhelming. “I, uh... got a new game on my Xbox, if you’re still into that,” he murmured.

Maybe gaming would be a good distraction. Or maybe it would just make everything worse.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun. Feels like it’s been forever since we last did that,” Skylar mumbled, his lips forming a small pout.

Two months and fourteen days, but who’s counting?

Certainly not a totally normal, straight best friend who definitely didn’t have feelings for Sky. Nope. It was completely normal to feel soul-crushing jealousy when Skylar and his girlfriend were practically glued together. Right?

“It has been a while, huh?” Ace replied, not even realizing how wistful his voice sounded until the words were already out. He cringed internally. It was painfully obvious how much he missed those days—the ones where they’d stay up all night gaming, running on nothing but energy drinks and sheer stubbornness. They were both losers, sure, but at least they were losers together. Back then, it was them against the world.

Reaching his dorm, Ace unlocked the door with his key, the chain swaying slightly. Attached to it was a familiar little charm— a “derpy duck” Skylar had given him for his seventeenth birthday. Sky had said it reminded him of Ace, and yeah, it was corny as hell, but Ace still found it oddly endearing.

Skylar’s eyes lit up the second he spotted it. “Holy shit, you still have that on your lanyard?” he laughed, pointing at the tiny duck dangling from Ace’s keys.

Ace stiffened. That laugh—soft, warm, and so unmistakably Skylar—made his chest ache in ways he didn’t want to think about. Act normal, idiot.

“Of course. You gave it to me. Would’ve been rude to lose it, right?” Ace teased, glancing at Sky with a lopsided grin and sticking his tongue out playfully.

“One hundred percent. I would’ve called you a lousy asshole and walked out on the spot,” Skylar shot back with an easy grin.

Ace’s heart stuttered. Was it just him, or was there the faintest tint of pink on Skylar’s cheeks? Great. Maybe it’s not Skylar that’ll kill me, but my own damn thoughts.

It had been way too long since they’d bantered like this, and Ace was soaking it in, every little smile, every laugh. I hope this moment never ends.

He pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Skylar in first. Inside, the room was—predictably—a disaster. Clothes were strewn across the floor, papers cluttered the desk, and a couple of posters were peeling off the wall at odd angles.

Skylar examined the mess with a snort. “Dude, this place is tragic. You seriously need to clean up.”

Ace rolled his eyes, shoving Skylar playfully. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get right on that. After we crush some levels.”

Skylar just laughed, and Ace decided that, mess or not, everything felt right again—at least for now.

 —————————————————————————————————————— 

“I wonder if you still suck cock at this game,” Skylar teased, his elbow brushing against Ace’s as he leaned in, eyes glued to the television screen.

The two of them sat cross-legged on the floor, a bowl of snacks between them and empty cans of energy drinks scattered across the room without a second thought. They were just… hanging out. No pressure, no expectations—just them. This was how life was meant to be. Skylar and Ace should’ve been living together, waking up beside each other, spending every moment together. The perfect, totally straight best-friend fantasy.

“Well, judging by the leaderboard, my dear friend, I’m kicking your ass,” Ace declared with a grin, feeling a surge of pride. His heart did that stupid little flip whenever they touched, no matter how casual or fleeting.

“Hmph, enjoy your victory while you can,” Skylar pouted, his bottom lip sticking out in that way that made Ace’s chest tighten. It’s just a pout, Ace told himself. Definitely not cute in a way that means anything. After all, Skylar had a girlfriend, and Ace was… straight.

The hours flew by, the room growing darker as the evening stretched on. They’d been playing and talking for so long now that Ace had forgotten just how effortless it was to be with Skylar. To share space with him, to get lost in the kind of banter that had been their trademark since high school. Skylar’s focus on the game was enough to make Ace lose his train of thought—he could’ve stared at that concentrated face forever.

But as all good things do, it came to an end. The sharp, rapid ring of Skylar’s phone cut through the moment like a knife.

Skylar dropped his controller and grabbed the phone from the small coffee table, his face falling when he saw the name: Marianna —bold and glaring.

Ace’s stomach churned, a sour feeling creeping in. What could she want now? He wasn’t exaggerating when he said she ruined all their best moments.

But what Ace didn’t know was that Skylar was feeling the same way. The 16 missed calls staring back at him only deepened the pit in his stomach. He could barely hold back the soft whine that threatened to escape his throat. Just when he thought he might have some space—some freedom—there she was again, pulling him back into her grasp. Skylar was trapped, terrified, and the worst part? He couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Not even Ace.

“I have to take this... sorry,” Skylar muttered, his voice laced with hesitation as he pushed himself up off the floor. His phone vibrated insistently in his grip, the flashing name on the screen making his stomach churn.

God, can she give him a break for once?

Ace watched him go, his jaw tightening. Skylar was his own damn person, and it pissed Ace off that she thought she could just control him like this. What gave her the right to interrupt their time? But as much as it infuriated him, Ace had no idea what was really going on behind the scenes.

Skylar pressed the phone to his ear as he walked into the small dorm bathroom, his footsteps heavy. “Baby, hi,” he murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue like poison. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was easier than dealing with what would come if he didn’t say it.

Baby.

Ace felt something sharp twist in his chest at the sound of it. It was just a word. A stupid, meaningless word. But the way it slipped so easily from Skylar’s lips sent a wave of jealousy crashing over him. His grip on the game controller tightened, practically searing into his palm. Flames of frustration burned inside him as he stared at the closed bathroom door, separating Skylar from him—just like she always did.

But inside that bathroom, Skylar’s world was spinning.

“Where the fuck are you, Skylar?” Marianna’s voice was sharp and slurred, filled with venom. “I swear to God, I’m gonna beat the ever-loving shit out of you when you get back. Are you cheating on me? Is that it? Who the hell are you with right now? What’s so important that you can’t answer me? I’m your girlfriend, for Christ’s sake! Do you even love me anymore?”

Skylar swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the phone. The suffocating guilt twisted in his gut, making it hard to breathe. He could tell by the slight slur in her voice that she’d been drinking again—probably with her friends. And when Marianna drank, she got... mean. Violent, even. Then again, she didn’t need alcohol to be like this.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” he whispered, lowering his voice as if Ace might somehow hear through the thin dorm walls. “I was just hanging out with Ace. We haven’t seen each other in a while, and I lost track of time, I—”

“Ace?” Her voice cut through him like a knife. “That sounds like a girl’s name. Did I say you could hang out with some girl? Are you two alone right now? Jesus, no wonder you ‘lost track of time.’”

“Mary,” Skylar sighed, his chest tightening painfully. “I’ve told you about Ace so many times. He’s my best friend.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

The line went silent for a second, then her voice dropped to something even darker. “Get your ass home right now... or I’ll kill you.”

Skylar closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. The walls of the bathroom felt like they were closing in on him as he fought back tears. He was so helpless.

“Of course. I’m on my way,” Skylar mumbled, his voice barely steady as he ended the call with a wince. His bottom lip trembled, and he stuffed his phone into his pocket like it burned to touch it. Turning on the sink, he splashed cold water onto his face, hoping it would wash away the emotions threatening to break through. The shock helped—at least enough to stop the tears from falling.

Grabbing a plush hand towel, he wiped his face dry, forcing himself to breathe. Composing himself, he flicked off the bathroom light and stepped out into the dimly lit dorm.

Ace was still sitting on the floor, scrolling through his phone, though his eyes weren’t really focused on the screen. Skylar couldn’t quite read his expression, but one thing was certain—Ace wasn’t happy.

It was jealousy.

“So... what was that all about?” Ace asked, looking up at him, their eyes meeting. There was something soft in his gaze, something searching. Skylar felt the weight of it immediately. Ace didn’t ask things lightly when it came to him.

Skylar swallowed and forced a shrug, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Oh, nothing important. But, uh... I should head back now. Thanks for tonight, though. I really appreciated it.”

He smiled, but it didn’t feel the same. Not like the effortless grin he’d given earlier today, the one that made Ace’s heart do stupid things. No, this one was forced—duller, strained. And Ace noticed. He always noticed.

Ace nodded slowly, the tight feeling in his chest growing stronger. “Yeah... totally understandable, man. I’ll see you—”

“Tomorrow,” Skylar interrupted, his voice a little too quick, too eager. “We’ll hang out tomorrow. I promise.”

A promise he wasn’t even sure he could keep. A promise that made his hands tremble again, because deep down, he didn’t know what Marianna had in store for him tonight. And that thought alone made his stomach churn.

“Really?” Ace’s face lit up just a little, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’d be awesome.” But even as he smiled, the nagging feeling in his gut wouldn’t leave him. Something was off. Something Ace couldn’t quite put his finger on—but he was too afraid to ask. Maybe they’d just argued. Maybe it was nothing.

“Alright, see ya, man.” Skylar lifted a hand in farewell, turning toward the door with a shaky exhale.

Ace watched him go, gnawing on his bottom lip. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. But before he could say anything, Skylar was already gone—walking out into the night toward whatever awaited him.

And Ace hated that he couldn't stop him.

Chapter Text

The cold night air bit at Skylar’s skin, seeping through the thin fabric of his t-shirt like icy needles. He shivered, his arms wrapping around himself instinctively, but it did nothing to chase away the chill. His apartment building loomed ahead, dark and quiet, and with every step closer, his chest tightened. His palms were clammy, his breathing shallow. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew exactly what he was walking into.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

His trembling fingers fumbled with the key, the tiny scrape of metal against the lock echoing louder than it should in the suffocating silence of the hallway. The door creaked open, and he stepped inside, shutting it behind him with a quiet click, locking himself in. Or maybe locking himself in with her.

The apartment was eerily still. Too still.

Skylar swallowed hard, his gaze drifting toward the living room, where Marianna sat on the plush sofa, shrouded in shadows. The dim light caught the silver strands of her platinum blonde hair, making them gleam like a halo—deceptively angelic. But her posture was anything but. One leg crossed elegantly over the other, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes locked onto him with a cold, calculating glare.

“You look like shit,” she sneered, her voice slicing through the silence. “What the fuck were you doing with her? Did you screw her, huh?”

Skylar froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His lips parted, a weak, startled breath escaping before he found his voice. “No… absolutely not, Mary,” he stammered, his hands raised slightly as if to fend off the accusation. “I would never cheat on you. I’ve told you so many times—Ace is just my friend. He’s been my friend since kindergarten. We were just playing video games and—”

Marianna’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “You know, Sky,” she murmured, stepping forward, each step deliberate and measured, “I hate being lied to.”

Skylar’s heart pounded against his ribs, his feet rooted to the floor as she closed the distance between them. He could smell the sharp sting of alcohol on her breath.

Smack.

The force of the slap sent his head snapping to the side, the sting burning across his cheek. He stumbled back a step, his hand instinctively reaching up to cradle the throbbing skin. “Fuck, I’m not lying,” he whispered, voice trembling, pleading— pathetic.

But Marianna wasn’t listening. She never did. Maybe she was too drunk to hear him. Or maybe... she just didn’t care.

Her hand shot out, cold fingers wrapping around his throat, squeezing—not enough to choke, but enough to remind him who was in control. Her lips curled in distaste. “Men like you disgust me,” she spat, her grip tightening. “You’re too weak to even fight back. You just stand there and take it. It’s humiliating.”

Skylar’s nails stabbed into her wrist in a feeble attempt to loosen her hold, but she didn’t flinch. He knew better than to push too hard.

“And let’s say Ace is a guy.” Her lips twisted into a cruel smile. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve slept with him. Everything about you screams gay. ”

Skylar’s stomach lurched. His chest felt hollow, a dull ache gnawing at his insides. He didn’t know what was worse—the accusation itself or the way she said it like it was the worst thing a person could be.

He stood there, eyes cast downward, waiting for the moment to pass. Waiting for it to be over. Waiting for the next blow—physical or verbal, it didn’t matter anymore.

It never did.

“Stop… Mary, please, ” Skylar croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and strained. His eyes squeezed shut as he clawed at her wrist, desperate to loosen her grip. The pressure around his throat was suffocating, the burn seeping deep into his skin.

For a moment, it felt like she might not let go. But then, with a sharp sigh, her fingers released him, leaving behind a ghostly ache. He coughed, staggering back slightly, one hand instinctively rubbing at his neck.

Marianna's gaze raked over him, cold and calculating. Then, her lips curled in that all-too-familiar sneer. “Strip. Now.”

Skylar’s heart plummeted straight into his stomach, the weight of her words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He stared at her, wide-eyed, his mouth going dry. What? He could take the yelling, the hits—he’d learned how to endure those. But this... this was different. This was new. And it made his skin crawl.

“M-Mary, what—”

“I said strip.” Her voice was sharp as a blade, each word slicing into him. “You can do it yourself, or I can do it for you. And trust me, you don’t want that. ”

Skylar felt a sickening heat flood his body—shame, fear, disgust all tangled together, constricting his chest. He could see the twisted gleam in her eyes, the way she tilted her head slightly, like she was enjoying this. The power. The control. He shivered under her gaze, feeling smaller than ever.

With a trembling breath, he hesitated—just for a second—before numbly pulling his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. His pale skin was exposed under the dim light, his slim figure tense and rigid. His muscles weren’t much, but the faint lines of his abs and the sharp cut of his v-line were visible. Vulnerability weighed on him heavier than any bruise she had ever left.

He stopped there, his hands hovering just above the waistband of his jeans, frozen. His heart pounded so hard he was sure she could hear it.

Marianna’s lips twitched in amusement, eyes scanning over him with disinterest before she sighed. “Pants too. But keep the boxers—I’m not interested in that. ”

Skylar’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, a tremor running down his spine. His fingers fumbled with his belt, his entire body screaming at him to run, to fight, to do something, but instead, he simply stood there, obeying. Because that’s what he always did.

And she knew it.

Skylar’s pants slid down his legs, pooling around his ankles in a heap of discarded fabric. He stood there, exposed and vulnerable, a cold wave of shame washing over him. His skin prickled under the weight of Marianna’s gaze, every inch of his body screaming that this wasn’t right. He felt trapped, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneasy breaths.

Marianna’s heels clicked softly against the floor as she stepped closer, the air between them thick and suffocating. When her hand finally touched his bare chest, a shiver shot through him, and his breath hitched involuntarily. His face scrunched up, but he didn’t dare pull away.

“I’m checking you for hickeys,” she murmured, her fingers trailing over his collarbone with an eerie sense of possession. “I’d love to see what she did to you.”

She said it so casually, as if forcing him to strip and endure her invasive touch was the most natural thing in the world. As if it wasn’t humiliating.

Skylar swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “I already told you… babe,” he forced out through gritted teeth, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. Her hands felt like hot brands against his skin, burning with accusations he couldn’t escape.

He knew the truth—there was no leaving Marianna. Even if he cheated, she wouldn’t let him go. She’d just punish him harder. The thought sent a sickening knot twisting in his stomach. Not that he’d ever cheat; Skylar had learned long ago that crossing her lines, even unintentionally, led to consequences he didn’t want to face.

After a long moment of searching, Marianna seemed satisfied—no marks, no evidence of betrayal. But instead of stepping back, she moved in closer, her breath ghosting over his neck, making him stiffen in discomfort.

“Why is it,” she whispered, voice laced with something more insidious than frustration, “that you never want to sleep with me?” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she examined his reaction. “We’ve been dating almost a year, and the most you’ve ever done is kiss me. Did your father never teach you how to treat a woman properly?”

The mention of his father sent bile rising in Skylar’s throat, his stomach churning at the mere thought of that man. His nails dug into his palms, and he bit his lip, unsure how to answer without making things worse.

Marianna’s lips curled in a sneer. “Or is it because you’re gay, and my body revolts you?” Her voice dripped with venom, her fingers trailing down his arm in a mockingly gentle caress that made his skin crawl. “Do you fantasize about fucking that Ace guy? Huh? Does that get you going?”

Skylar’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His thoughts were a tangled mess of fear, anger, and something dangerously close to despair. He couldn't even defend himself—because no answer would be good enough. Not for her. Not ever.

 ——————————————————————————————————————————

Ace stretched his arms over his head with a low groan, flopping onto the floor with a sigh. “Goddamn, we hung out for hours, but it still feels like we barely did,” he muttered to himself before pushing off the hardwood and dragging his feet to the bathroom.

Any normal person would’ve just accepted that their best friend got a girlfriend and moved on—accepted the distance Skylar had put between them. Maybe it was even justified. But Ace couldn’t help the excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of tomorrow. Back-to-back plans were rare these days, and he wasn't about to take it for granted.

He set his phone down on the granite countertop and clipped his hair out of his face before turning on the faucet. Cool water splashed over his skin as he scrubbed away the day, brushing his teeth and applying his usual skincare routine to keep that glow intact. After a quick, self-assured glance in the mirror—complete with a few whispered words of encouragement—he switched off the lights and grabbed his phone, trudging to his bedroom with exhaustion settling deep in his bones.

Stripping down, Ace tossed his clothes onto the already chaotic floor and reached for a pair of plaid pajama pants—hopefully clean—before finally collapsing onto his bed. The weight of the day pressed down on him, but sleep didn’t come just yet.

He curled up beneath the covers, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Skylar’s contact.

I wonder what he’s doing right now.

Something felt off when Skylar left earlier. Maybe he should check up on him, just to be sure. Without overthinking it, Ace hit the call button. If only he knew he was the very topic of conversation between Skylar and Marianna at that exact moment.

Talk about bad timing.

Chapter Text

Skylar’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the sudden vibration slicing through the tense silence like a blade. His gaze flickered downward, away from the furious woman standing before him.

“Well?” Marianna’s voice was low, laced with warning as she arched a perfectly sculpted brow, tilting her head just enough to make him hesitate. “Are you going to answer that, Sky?”

Skylar swallowed hard, his trembling hand inching toward his pocket. As soon as he pulled the phone out, Marianna’s sharp eyes zeroed in on the glowing screen. Her lips curled in disgust at the contact name flashing across it— Acey ♥️.

“Speak of the devil,” she hissed, jaw clenching as something dark flashed behind her gaze. Before Skylar could react, her hand shot out, snatching the phone from his grasp with a sickening ease.

“Let’s see what he thinks about all this, huh?” she mused, swiping the answer button before Skylar could even protest. His stomach dropped. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Hey, Sky, did you make it home safe?” Ace’s voice crackled through the speaker—deep, tired, and laced with genuine concern. Skylar’s cheeks burned red, a pang of something bittersweet flooding his chest. He loved how Ace always worried about him, but this? This was not the time. Not with her standing right there.

“He made it home just fine, Ace,” Marianna cut in smoothly, her voice dripping with an unsettling sweetness, a sharp contrast to the cold glare she fixed on Skylar. “What’s with all the concern? Why wouldn’t he be safe?” Her tone was laced with false innocence, but the dangerous gleam in her eyes told a different story—one that threatened to unravel everything.

Ace hesitated on the other end, clearly thrown off. “Uh… you know, the streets at night can be sketchy,” he muttered, the edge of impatience creeping into his voice. “Is he there? Can I talk to him?”

“Actually, he’s in the shower right now,” Marianna lied effortlessly, her voice light but her posture rigid. She was an incredible actress—too good, too convincing—but Skylar could see the tension simmering just beneath the surface. "What were you two up to tonight?"

Ace hesitated on the other end. “Huh? Oh, uh, we just played some video games. That’s all,” he said, his brows furrowing as unease crept into his tone. Something felt... off. As cheerful as Marianna tried to sound, Ace could hear the strain beneath it, the forced politeness that didn’t sit right. Was it just a typical couple’s spat, or was there something darker lurking beneath the surface?

Skylar stood frozen, his arms wrapped tightly around himself in a desperate attempt to ward off the chill seeping into his bones. His skin burned with the humiliation of standing there, nearly bare, as he listened to the conversation unfold. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat screaming a silent plea. One wrong word, Ace. Just one wrong word, and I’m done for.

Marianna’s lips curled into a twisted smirk, her fingers tapping against the phone in thought. “Alright then,” she said smoothly. “I’ll let him know you called. Maybe he’ll text you later.” The casual shrug in her voice was so convincing it was almost believable—almost. Before Ace could even respond, she ended the call with a swift press of her thumb and shoved the phone back into Skylar’s trembling hands.

“Put your clothes back on and get the hell out of my sight. You’re fucking gross,” she spat, eyes filled with disgust.

Skylar didn’t waste a second. Scrambling to pull his clothes back on, his fingers fumbled in his rush to escape. He bolted toward his bedroom without a glance in Marianna’s direction, his pulse roaring in his ears.

He didn’t need to look back to know she was still watching him—still in control.

Skylar shut the door behind him with a soft click, his back sliding down against the wood until he hit the floor. His hands tangled in his hair, fingers pulling at the strands as his knees curled tightly to his chest. Burying his face against them, his body trembled with silent, broken sobs. It felt like the world was caving in around him, crushing him from all sides.

His trembling fingers ghosted over his neck, and he winced the moment they grazed the tender, bruised skin where Marianna’s grip had been. Fuck. There was no doubt it left a mark. A glaring reminder of what had happened—of what always happened. How the hell was he supposed to hide this?

With a shaky breath, he swiped a hand over his cheek, another sting of pain confirming what he already knew. There was another mark there too. His body felt like a roadmap of Marianna’s anger, and he couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that blurred his vision.

Forcing himself to his feet, he staggered into the bathroom, the fluorescent lights flickering to life as he flicked the switch with a trembling hand. His heart pounded violently in his chest when his gaze landed on the reflection staring back at him.

The bruises were unmistakable. The one on his neck stood out the most—an ugly, dark red imprint shaped exactly like a hand. The sight of it turned his stomach, shame clawing at his insides. He let this happen. Again.

“Shit... how am I gonna cover this up?” he whispered to himself, unable to hold his own gaze in the mirror for long. He yanked open the bathroom drawer, rummaging through it with shaky hands until his fingers closed around a small tube of concealer. Marianna’s. He could only hope she wouldn’t notice.

With a deep, shaky breath, he squeezed out a generous amount and began dabbing it over the bruise, each touch sending sharp pulses of pain through his skin. He flinched, biting down hard on his lip to stifle a cry. The tenderness was unbearable, but he pressed on, blending the makeup as best as he could.

Skylar examined his reflection once more, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw that the bruise was nearly invisible under the layer of concealer. Good enough. With that, he slipped out of the bathroom, grabbing a set of comfortable clothes and quickly changing. He had class early in the morning, and he couldn’t afford to be late again—his professor already had little patience for him.

The sudden slam of the apartment door echoed through the silence, signaling Marianna’s departure. Probably out with her terrible friends again. Fine by him. The longer she was gone, the more freedom he had. He craved it now more than ever.

Climbing into bed, he curled up tightly, clutching his phone in his hand. His messy dark brown hair fell over his eyes, but he made no effort to push it away. His screen lit up with a string of unread messages from Ace—each one asking if he was okay. Skylar’s chest tightened. What had he ever done to deserve someone like Ace? That man could make him feel better in an instant, without even trying. He was the one place where Skylar had always felt safe.

But things couldn’t go back to how they were. Not anymore. Too much had changed, too many secrets stood between them now. As much as they wished they could return to those carefree days—their childhood innocence, their endless promises—they both knew it was impossible. There was too much distance now, too much damage done.

Instead of responding, Skylar placed his phone down on the nightstand with a shaky exhale. He buried his face into the pillow, the tears slipping free before he could stop them. God, he missed it all so much. The laughter, the simplicity, the way they used to be.

If only they could go back. He would give anything to relive those moments, to exist again in a world where they were just kids—where they were still meant for each other.

Before he knew it, sunlight was filtering through his sheer curtains, and his phone buzzed loudly with his alarm. Damn, when did I even fall asleep? he thought groggily, his eyes fluttering open. With a soft whine, he rolled onto his side, stretching out an arm to silence the blaring sound. 6:45 AM. Just enough time to get ready for class.

Marianna wasn’t there. That was...odd. He always woke up to her lying beside him, and he wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or worried.

Dragging himself out of bed, Skylar shuffled over to the small plush sofa where he’d laid out his uniform the night before. He slipped into the crisp white button-up, tugged on the black blazer with the school’s embroidered logo, and tightened the red tie around his collar. His fingers instinctively grazed his neck, and the slightest touch sent waves of pain radiating through his skin. It hurt even more now.

In the bathroom, Skylar took in his reflection with tired eyes. His hair was a mess, and his neck—God, his neck looked awful. The concealer must’ve rubbed off while he slept, leaving the deep bruises glaringly obvious. Anyone could spot them a mile away. Great. He sighed, deciding to touch it up after his usual routine.

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he ran a hand through his hair, styling it to look somewhat presentable. He reached into the drawer where he’d found the concealer last night, rummaging through the clutter. His fingers moved casually at first, but as the seconds ticked by, panic started to creep in.

It wasn’t there.

No, no, no... It has to be here. His heart hammered against his ribs as he frantically sifted through the drawer again, fingers shaking. Still nothing.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his stomach twisting with nerves. What the hell am I gonna do?

He couldn't exactly throw on a turtleneck; first, he didn’t even own one, and second, the school’s uniform policy wouldn’t allow it anyway. His pulse quickened at the thought of people noticing. God forbid someone saw this—he’d be the talk of campus. And knowing how college guys were, they’d assume the worst. They wouldn’t see it as a sign of danger, they’d turn it into something... kinky.

He cringed, the mere thought making him want to hurl.

Focusing back on his reflection, Skylar racked his brain for any way to hide the dark imprint circling his throat. Then it hit him—his hair. If he styled it just right, it could cover the bruise completely. Thank God he’d been growing it out lately; for once, his indecisiveness about cutting it worked in his favor.

He carefully picked at a few strands, arranging them over the mark and dousing them with a dizzying amount of hairspray to keep everything in place. After a few adjustments, he took a step back and examined his work. Perfect. The bruise was hidden, and it looked casual enough to not raise any suspicion.

Satisfied, Skylar grabbed his cologne—the one Ace had complimented him on before—and spritzed it behind his ears and in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent wrapped around him like a small comfort, making him feel just a little more put together.

With a final glance in the mirror, he smoothed out the wrinkles on his blazer and straightened his tie. Ready or not, it was time to face the day.

Chapter Text

Ace didn’t get a wink of sleep. His eyes burned from staring at his phone all night, his thumb hovering over Skylar’s name, waiting—hoping—for a reply that never came.

The fuck? Why isn’t he answering me? He gnawed on the inside of his cheek, frustration bubbling up inside him. Skylar always texted back. It was routine, a constant, even with the distance between them. No matter what, he always found a way to respond. But last night was... off. Ace could feel it in his gut. Marianna picking up the call, the way she sounded so tense—too tense. And now? Radio silence. What the hell is going on?

With a loud groan, Ace chucked his phone across the room. Dramatic? Maybe. But this was Ace—no surprises there. He ran a hand through his hair, head falling back against his pillow. He couldn’t even tell me he’s okay? His chest ached with a mix of worry and something uglier—resentment.

He ignores me for days, then suddenly gives me all his attention, only to shut me out again. I can’t fucking handle this. He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head. Was he being played with? Strung along by the only person he ever really— No. Don’t go there.

The rising sun peeked through his blinds, and Ace finally peeled himself off his bed, sighing at the realization that morning had come and he hadn’t slept a second. And all because of Skylar. Face it, man, he thought bitterly, dragging a hand down his tired face. He doesn’t care about you anymore. All you’ll ever be to him is a burden.

Fuck it, I’m wasting my time. If he just left Skylar alone, maybe he’d have more time for his girlfriend—maybe he’d be happier. Ace clenched his jaw, forcing himself to swallow the bitter thoughts swirling in his head. I’m holding him back. It’s better this way. With that resolution, and a newfound determination to ignore Skylar’s pitying attempts to reach out, he grabbed his uniform and stalked into the bathroom.

Today would be different. Today would be good. Screw the plans we made, he told himself, pulling his shirt over his head. He was done waiting around. He’d make new friends, find something—or someone—else to focus on. Who needs Skylar anyway?

He dropped his clothes onto the countertop and turned on the shower, reaching a hand under the spray until the water warmed up to his liking. Stepping in, his tense muscles finally relaxed under the steady stream, the heat melting away some of his frustration. For a moment, he just stood there, letting the water cascade down his body, lost in thought.

As much as he wanted to be mad at Skylar, a nagging feeling crept in—was ignoring him really the best idea? Hell, how hard could it be? Skylar barely talked to him anymore anyway. Shaking his head, Ace grabbed the soap, scrubbing his skin clean and lathering his hair before rinsing off. He turned off the water and stepped out, reaching blindly for a towel and wrapping it around his waist.

Running another towel through his damp hair, he let out a breath, dropping it lazily into the laundry basket once he was done. Ace was simple—he liked feeling good, looking good, and mornings were his time to shine. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and carefully went through his skincare routine. The creams kept his skin looking fresh—unnecessary at nineteen, but hey, he liked the compliments. With a swipe of chapstick, he smirked at his reflection. Looking good, Acey.

He changed into his uniform—crisp white button-up, school-branded black blazer, and the signature red tie. Adjusting his dark brown hair in the mirror, he flashed himself his signature grin.

Today’s the day. Time for new friends. 

—————————————————————–—————————————————  

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Ace hadn’t even so much as caught a glimpse of Skylar. Good. He kept his head held high, his grip tightening around the cappuccino in his hand. A charming smile was plastered across his face—the kind he convinced himself people actually liked. Fake it till you make it, right? Though deep down, he knew he was just a loser trying too hard.

Still, with newfound confidence, Ace approached a group of students—the it crowd on campus. Stupid? Absolutely. But today, he felt untouchable.

There they were: Elliot Jeremiah, Theo DeLuca, and Malachi Vincenzo—the trio that practically ran the place. Alongside them stood Claire Marie and Solar Castello, the girls who always seemed to have the entire student body wrapped around their fingers.

“Hey, uh... is that a party I hear you guys talking about?” Ace blurted out, not giving himself the chance to back out. New friends, Ace. Just jump in.

Theo, who always carried himself like royalty, grinned. “Hell yeah! Pierre’s throwing a massive one Friday night to celebrate the end of the semester.” His tone was smug, and Ace could already tell this guy loved being the center of attention.

Before he could respond, Claire’s eyes lit up, and she tilted her head, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “Hey, you’re Ace Dmitri, right? I’ve heard about you. Apparently, you’re, like, super handsome. Word gets around, you know...” She winked at him, her lips curling into an effortless smile. “But seeing you in person? Damn, you definitely live up to the hype.”

Ace laughed awkwardly, shifting under the weight of her attention. He wasn’t used to this—having girls flirt with him so openly. Maybe that’s why he kept deluding himself into thinking he had feelings for Skylar. Maybe it was just because he didn’t know what real interest in someone actually felt like. Right?

“Heh, yeah... that’s me,” he said, his voice a little tighter than he would’ve liked. A soft blush crept up his cheeks, and he quickly convinced himself it was from the heat. Not embarrassment. Definitely not that. Ace was totally into this. Into girls. Totally loving this moment.

So why the hell do I always have to relate everything back to Skylar?

“Ace, huh? Nice to meet you,” Elliot said smoothly, sliding an arm around Claire’s waist while extending his other hand for a handshake. Formal. Unexpected. Ace had never imagined he'd even be acknowledged by these people, let alone spoken to. They’re like campus royalty or something.

Ace grasped Elliot’s hand, trying to contain his excitement. He was being recognized. For once, he felt like somebody. Sure, it had been fun playing the secluded loser, living in his little Skylar-centric world where they were devoted to each other. But if Skylar couldn’t even bother to respond to his messages anymore, what was the point? Ace was exhausted from trying to fix something that was shattered beyond repair.

“So,” Elliot continued, a sly grin forming, “since you seem so interested, why don’t you come to the party? Consider this a personal invite.” He gestured toward Malachi. “Tell ‘em Malachi sent you—Pierre’s brother. That’ll get you special treatment.”

Ace’s gaze flicked to Malachi, the quieter, more reserved one of the group, yet still effortlessly attractive. Standing next to them, Ace suddenly felt like a mess in comparison.

“W-Woah, really? I... uh...” Damn it, Ace, act cool. He cleared his throat, forcing a casual smirk. “100%. I’ll be there. Just need your number so you can text me the deets,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though his heart was practically beating out of his chest.

He was actually going to a party. For the first time in his life.

Chapter Text

Class dragged on—long, dull, and exactly as Skylar had expected. But at least he had something to look forward to afterward. Hanging out with Ace… right?

It wasn’t until Ace started slipping away that Skylar realized just how much he meant to him. And now, the thought of losing him completely? It was unbearable. He had to fix things, to close the growing distance between them before it was too late.

Lately, it felt like they were living in two different worlds. Their courses were on opposite sides of campus, and their schedules rarely lined up anymore. It sucked. But with Marianna still silent after yesterday’s… incident, Skylar figured he had a rare window of free time. Time that he wanted—no, needed —to spend with Ace. I miss him so much.

His fingers instinctively brushed through his hair, checking once again that the bruises were still hidden. He’d been doing it all day, the constant fear of someone catching even a glimpse gnawing at him relentlessly.

When the bell finally rang, Skylar wasted no time slinging his backpack over his shoulder and slipping out of the classroom without a word to anyone. He wasn’t the type to stick around and chat. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind: finding Ace.

By now, Ace should be walking his usual route back to his dorm. Even on days when Skylar couldn’t join him—thanks to Marianna’s constant presence—he’d still watch from a distance, longing for how things used to be.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and a quick glance at the screen told him it was Marianna. Won’t see you till late, girl trip tonight. Skylar rolled his eyes. A trip? On a Thursday? With finals creeping up? Typical. But whatever. If it meant a little peace and freedom, he wasn’t going to argue. This was his chance to fix things with Ace.

Adjusting his backpack straps, he navigated the crowded hallways with his head down, hoping to go unnoticed. He knew the layout of the school like the back of his hand, so he wasn’t worried about walking into—

Clash.

Skylar stumbled back, heart sinking before he even looked up.

“Watch where you’re going, loser.”

The sneer in the voice sent a chill down his spine. He barely needed to glance up to know who it was.

“I-I’m sorry,” Skylar stammered, bowing his head in apology, embarrassment burning in his cheeks. He just wanted to find Ace before it was too late.

A chuckle rang out, low and taunting. “Holy shit, Sky! ”

That voice. That grin. Malachi Vincenzo.

The so-called quiet guy Ace had once described as “mysterious” and “cool.” But Skylar knew better. Malachi was anything but. He was cruel, a walking reminder of things Skylar had tried so hard to forget.

“It’s been too long, pal,” Malachi drawled, his smirk sharp and predatory. “Kinda thought you died after eighth grade. Y’know, after that whole thing with your father.”

Skylar’s jaw clenched, fists tightening at his sides. The flood of memories hit like a freight train. Could he ever catch a break?

“Kai…” he muttered, voice low with barely contained anger. He had hoped— prayed —that they’d never cross paths again.

But Malachi was having too much fun. “Oh, I remember you.” His eyes glinted with something dark, something cruel. Then, with a mocking lilt to his voice, he said it loud enough for the hallway to hear:

“You’re that kid who cuts himself, right?”

A ripple of whispers passed through the lingering students, their gazes flicking toward Skylar with curiosity and judgment. Skylar’s stomach churned.

Malachi grinned wider, satisfied. “Yeah… I remember you real well.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Skylar spat through clenched teeth, his vision blurring with unshed tears. He hated this— hated how the universe seemed determined to break him at every turn. Was it too much to ask for a normal day? A moment of peace? No, because life had made it clear: he was born to be mistreated.

Malachi's lips curled into a smirk, his eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. “Baby’s got some bark now, huh?” He glanced around, feeding off the growing audience like a performer on stage. Oh, this was fun. Skylar, all grown up, trying to stand his ground.

Something inside Skylar snapped. The words tumbled out before he could stop them, raw and unfiltered. “You’ve always been bark, Malachi. Just a coward hiding behind your brother’s name. You’re nobody. You always will be. A sad little boy trying to look important because your friends are. Your brother made you. Without him? You’re just another loser.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, but this time, it wasn’t aimed at Skylar. It was at Malachi. The arrogant, untouchable Malachi Vincenzo, being laughed at. Skylar could see it in his eyes—the way they darkened with rage, the way his jaw tightened. No way was he going to let Skylar, of all people, humiliate him. Not in front of everyone.

“You fucking prick,” Malachi snarled, his fists clenching at his sides. He glanced down the hallway, making sure no professors were around. And then—

BAM.

The punch landed hard in Skylar’s stomach, the impact sending him crumpling to the ground. Pain shot through him like wildfire, knocking the breath right out of his lungs.

“Jesus—” he gasped, curling inward, his body instinctively trying to protect itself. But the hallway erupted with cheers, voices blending together in a chaotic chant: “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Skylar could barely hear them. Everything blurred into white noise, his ears ringing, his heartbeat thudding in his head. He could taste blood, could feel the hot sting of tears trailing down his face, and worst of all—he could hear Malachi laughing above him.

And just like that, he was right back there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dad, Dad, please stop!"

Skylar’s voice cracked, raw with fear, as he curled up on the floor, his small hands trembling over his tear-streaked face. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying— begging —to disappear. In his mind, he searched for the only safe place he’d ever known— Ace.

But the harsh voice dragged him back.

“Is this what I raised?” His father’s words were ice, sharp and unforgiving. The glint of metal in his hand was even sharper. “You’re a man, Skylar. So answer me—why the fuck is there a blade under your bed? And why the hell are you covered in those goddamn marks?”

Skylar’s sobs were silent hiccups, his frail, malnourished body shaking uncontrollably. “I…I don’t know,” he choked out, but the truth was sitting heavy in his chest, too painful to say.

His father sneered, eyes blazing with disgust. “Wipe those ugly-ass tears. Men don’t cry, and they sure as hell don’t mutilate themselves like this. You want attention, huh? Is that what this is?” He held up the blade like it was a piece of filth. “Am I not a good enough father for you, Sky? I give you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------—

“...lar Petrov. Skylar Petrov, wake up.”

A deep voice rumbled in his ear, pulling him out of the fog. Skylar’s eyes fluttered open, and a wave of dizziness hit him like a freight train as he tried to sit up. The hallway around him was empty now—everyone was gone, leaving just him and a man crouched beside him. A professor. One he didn’t recognize.

“What happened? Are you okay?” The man’s voice was thick with concern, his expression creased with worry. A gentle hand pressed against Skylar’s forehead, and he nearly recoiled from the unexpected warmth.

Skylar flinched instinctively, his body tense beneath the touch. The professor noticed but didn’t pull away immediately, his brows furrowing as he observed the silent tremor in the boy’s frame. And then, just like that, the tears spilled over again. Hot and relentless.

He was broken. Unfixable. No matter where he went, the torment followed, suffocating him in ways he couldn’t even begin to explain—because explaining meant punishment.

“Hey, kid. It’s okay,” the man said softly, his tone gentle in a way Skylar wasn’t used to. Like a father comforting his son. A foreign, unfamiliar kindness. “You can let it out.”

Skylar stared at him, stunned into silence. The offer felt... unreal.

“Do you need a hug?” the professor asked, voice cautious but unwavering.

Skylar didn’t respond, didn’t even move—but the look on his face must have been enough, because the next thing he knew, strong arms wrapped around him.

Aleksandr Kowalski held him close, firm but careful, like he knew exactly how fragile Skylar was. The tension in Skylar’s body didn’t ease right away, but the warmth seeped in slowly, and something inside him cracked just a little more.

Aleksandr sighed, his grip tightening. “You can cry, you know. I’m not in a rush.” His voice was low, soothing, a stark contrast to the distant hum of the school behind them. Professors were starting to trickle out of the building, throwing them curious glances, but Aleksandr didn’t seem to care.

“I’m Kowalski. Aleksandr Kowalski,” he murmured after a while, introducing himself without breaking the hug. “I teach business, so I guess it makes sense we haven’t met before. But listen—if you’re going through something, you can talk to me, alright? No pressure.”

Skylar swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak for a moment. When he finally did, his voice was a quiet, fragile thing. “T-thank you, sir. I–I’m sorry for... for causing a scene.”

Aleksandr pulled back slightly, enough to look him in the eyes. “Hey, you don’t have to apologize for needing help.”

Skylar bit his lip, feeling his chest tighten all over again. He didn’t deserve this kindness. But for once, he didn’t push it away.

Once Skylar’s mind cleared, his thoughts instantly snapped to Ace. What time is it?

He hesitated for a second before speaking up, his voice a little hoarse. “Um… Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what time is it?”

The professor looked a bit surprised by the sudden shift but didn’t question it. He pulled back from the hug and glanced down at his watch. “4:32 PM,” he said with a small smile—soft and kind, in a way that felt almost unfamiliar to Skylar.

4:32. Shit. Ace would definitely be back at his dorm by now. Maybe he’d texted while Skylar was out cold.

“I—I should get going. Thank you for everything, Sir,” Skylar murmured, bowing his head politely before pushing himself up off the floor. His hands fumbled in his pocket, digging out his phone as he hurried toward the exit.

The screen lit up. No new notifications.

His heart sank. Why didn’t Ace text him? They had plans today—didn’t they? Ace had seemed excited about it just yesterday. Skylar swallowed the lump rising in his throat and tapped on Ace’s contact, scrolling through a flood of unread messages from last night. Worried messages. Ones he never answered because he’d fallen asleep crying his eyes out.

Shit… is he mad at me now?

Skylar walked the rest of the way back to his apartment with his head hanging low, shame gnawing at him. Today had been one humiliation after another—getting beat up in front of everyone, breaking down in a teacher’s arms, and now, possibly losing the one person who made things bearable.

He dropped onto the couch the second he got home, still in his crumpled school uniform. The apartment was eerily quiet. Marianna had actually left for her trip, meaning he was completely alone. Today was supposed to be spent with Ace, laughing, unwinding, forgetting about everything... but instead, all he had was silence.

His fingers hovered over his phone for a moment before he finally typed out the messages:

"Ace?"
"Hello?"
"Ace, I thought we had plans today. Why aren’t you answering?"
"Are you mad at me?"

The read receipt appeared almost instantly.

Read.

Skylar stared at the screen, his chest tightening painfully. No reply.

Chapter Text

Can you still be a bad person if you have good intentions?

Ace’s hand trembled as he gripped his phone, resisting the overwhelming urge to reply to the flood of messages lighting up his screen—each one from Skylar. This is for your own good, Sky.

But the guilt was suffocating. Each new notification felt like a punch to the gut.

“Ace, please answer me.”

“Ace.”

“Hello? I was looking forward to hanging out today.”

“Okay. Fine. Text me back later then. Looks like our plans are screwed. You could’ve at least let me know.”

Ace swallowed hard, staring at the screen. He felt like the worst person alive. Ignoring Skylar like this—leaving him on read—it wasn’t just petty, it was cruel.

But then, another notification popped up. Not from Skylar, but from Elliot.

“Hey, man, just lettin’ ya know, the party starts at 6:00 PM tomorrow. Don’t be late. Come find us, you can hang with us.”

Without hesitation, Ace clicked on the message, the weight of his guilt momentarily easing. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Why am I doing this? For popularity? No.

Skylar.

God, why do I keep making this about him?

Shaking his head, he typed out a quick reply.

“Totally. I’ll catch you guys then.”

And just like that, he hit send. He didn’t even think about it.

Skylar and him had promised each other a long time ago that they’d never give in to college peer pressure. No partying, no falling in with the wrong crowd—they’d always have each other. But now? Without Skylar constantly by his side, Ace felt… lost. Maybe letting go wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe it was what they both needed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Skylar screamed into his pillow, kicking his legs behind him in frustration. Everything was wrong. Ace wasn’t answering. Ace was ignoring him. Ace—his best friend, his safe place—was shutting him out.

He couldn’t just cry to him anymore when things got bad. He had to deal with it on his own now, like the “grown-up” he was supposed to be. But damn, he had a lot of problems to deal with.

Why was Ace acting like this? Sure, he understood being annoyed about the unanswered texts, but this? This was something else. Ace had never left him hanging like this before.

Skylar buried his face deeper into the pillow, trying to think, really think about two nights ago.

Ace seemed fine—didn’t he?

Or… was he?

Skylar’s breathing slowed as the memory replayed in his mind. The way Ace looked when those calls from Marianna came in. That tight-lipped expression, the way his jaw clenched. He was grumpy.

But why?

Then it hit him. Ace looked the same way when Skylar said he had to leave early. That same grumpy, irritated look.

Why did he always get like that when Marianna was involved? Skylar had plenty of reasons to hate her, but Ace? Ace didn’t even know about the way she treated him.

So why did it bother him so much?

Skylar froze. His heart pounded.

Holy shit.

Is he jealous?

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ace shut off his phone with a satisfied grin, as if he wasn’t betraying Skylar for a bunch of new—toxic—guys. The thought of the party tomorrow made his heart race with excitement. What was a real college party even like? He had no idea what to expect, but he knew it was going to be a good time. The coolest guys on campus were throwing it, and he’d been personally invited.

“What the hell do people even wear to these things?” he muttered to himself, tossing his phone onto the bed and yanking open his closet.

Everything inside looked... basic. Too casual. Too him. If he wanted to fit in, he couldn’t just show up in his usual band tees and ripped jeans—he had to step up his game. But not too much. He couldn’t look like he was trying too hard.

Even though he totally was.

Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair as he skimmed through his clothes. He wanted to fit in. He wanted to be someone. Being a low-key loser had its perks—no drama, no pressure—but now, he wanted to start fresh. And what better way to kick off college than by showing up to the party of the semester?

His fingers stopped on a black leather jacket tucked in the corner of his closet. He pulled it out with a small smirk. “This... might actually look badass if I style it right.”

Despite not flaunting it every day, Ace knew how to put together an outfit. It came with the territory of being a fashion major, after all. Most days, comfort was his go-to—band shirts, hoodies, and jeans—but tomorrow night? Tomorrow night, he needed to stand out.

He grabbed a black tank top from the shelf, his excitement bubbling up as he imagined the final look. “Perfect. I’ll have all the ladies on me for sure.”

The words rolled off his tongue, but they didn’t quite sit right. Did he even care about impressing the ladies? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to feel like the kind of guy who did. Like a normal college guy, someone who belonged.

After pairing the jacket and tank top with some washed-out jeans, a black belt, and loafers, Ace stepped back to admire himself in the mirror. He definitely looked a little... overdressed, but confidence was key, right? And tonight, he was going to own it.

His eyes flicked to his reflection, a sudden thought creeping in. What would Skylar say if he saw me in this?

Ace could practically see it—the way Skylar’s face would turn pink, the way he’d stammer out a teasing remark, or maybe even let out one of those soft, adorable chuckles that always made Ace’s chest feel...

His thoughts slammed to a stop.

What the fuck, Ace? We’re moving on from Sky, remember?

He shook his head, scowling at his reflection. This was about starting fresh, fitting in, and maybe even having a few girls swooning over him.

Not about Skylar. Definitely not about Skylar.

Ace felt a rare sense of satisfaction as he glanced at his reflection one last time. For once, he wasn’t just okay with how he looked—he actually felt hot . It was a strange, almost foreign feeling. Ace had always been aware of his attractiveness; people reminded him of it all the time—especially Skylar. But deep down, he struggled to see himself the way others did. That’s why he poured so much of himself into fashion, skincare routines, and keeping up with his appearance. It wasn’t just about looking good for others; it was about trying to see himself as enough.

With a sigh, Ace carefully undressed, folding the outfit neatly and tucking it away in the corner of his bedroom, away from the usual clutter. Having it planned out meant one less thing to stress over tomorrow. Now, in his soft pajamas—despite it being only 7 PM—he let out a breath, already picturing a quiet night of takeout and trashy action movies.

But the buzz of his phone on the nightstand shattered his brief moment of peace, and for a split second, he hoped it was Skylar. It wasn’t. Ace swallowed the lump in his throat and turned the screen face-down.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skylar let out a low, frustrated whine, the sound bouncing off the silent apartment walls. He couldn’t decide what was worse—being tormented or being completely alone. Both felt unbearable in their own ways. The last time he had the apartment to himself, he’d relapsed. And hiding a relapse? That was a battle he never wanted to fight again.

Not this time, he told himself firmly. He was six months clean. Six whole months. That had to count for something, right? But tonight, everything felt harder. The silence gnawed at him, and his chest tightened with the overwhelming weight of emotions he couldn’t shake. Ace had been ignoring him, and Skylar had no idea why.

He buried his face in his hands, his body tense with unspoken frustration.

Sky, this is all your fault.

He hated how easily his mind turned against him. He had pushed Ace away too many times, expecting him to stay when all he did was create distance. That was selfish. Skylar knew it. But Ace was his person—the only one who truly got him. They had built their friendship on that shared understanding, both of them struggling with their own demons. Ace’s insecurities and Skylar’s trauma were completely different, yet somehow, they fit together like two halves of something broken.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The classroom was quiet, save for the faint scratch of Skylar’s pencil against paper. While the other kids screamed and played outside, he sat at his desk, hunched over a book, content in his solitude. He didn’t need the company of others—he never had. Their games and laughter felt foreign, like a world he wasn’t part of.

A knock at the door made him flinch, and Skylar peered up from his book. A boy stood in the doorway—skinny, awkward, and clearly out of place. His dark brown hair hung limply over his forehead, and his wide blue eyes never seemed to settle on anything for too long. But it was his mouth that caught Skylar’s attention—a constant grimace, like he was bracing for something bad to happen. Skylar had never seen him smile before.

“May I stay in here?” the boy asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The teacher on duty beamed, clearly pleased. “Of course, Ace. You can sit next to Skylar. I’m sure you two will get along well.”

Skylar watched as the boy hesitated for a second before quietly making his way over. He sat down, and for the first time, Skylar felt something other than isolation. He felt understood.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was cliché, sure, but from that day on, they had been inseparable. Two lonely kids who found solace in each other. There was something darkly poetic about it—bonding over loneliness at such a young age—but it worked for them. Ace became his safe place, his anchor.

But now, Skylar felt like he was losing him.

“I want my Acey back,” he whispered to the empty room, his fingers curling into his hair in frustration. He needed to fix things. Needed to make things right. If he could just get Ace back, everything else would fall into place. Maybe he could finally get the courage to break up with Marianna. Maybe everything wouldn’t feel so suffocating.

But deep down, he knew the hardest part wasn’t wanting to fix things. It was figuring out how.

Maybe tomorrow he’d catch up with Ace on campus. They could finally have that long, much-needed talk—one filled with explanations from Skylar’s side. Not too much, though. Some things were better left unsaid. There were secrets Skylar carried that Ace could never know, things too shameful, too dark. If Ace ever found out… the worry, the fear in his eyes—Skylar was sure it would kill him on the spot.

And if Skylar ever found out about the party Ace was planning to go to? The so-called “friends” he was trying so hard to impress? Fury wouldn’t even begin to describe it. Those guys—especially Malachi—had made Skylar’s life a living hell. But he never told Ace that. He had kept most of the bullying to himself, choosing silence over being a burden. Instead of words, he had found his release through a blade, carving out his pain where no one could see. Somehow, he had managed to hide it from Ace all these years, and he intended to keep it that way.

Tonight, though, Skylar knew exactly what he needed to do. He had a plan—a mission, even. He was going to pull Ace back into his world, back where he belonged. If he could just get him back, everything else would fall into place. No more distance, no more confusion. Tomorrow would be the day—the day he’d win his Ace back.

Chapter Text

The blaring alarm jolted Ace awake, and he instinctively reached over to silence it, his hand fumbling against the nightstand. 7 AM. He didn’t even need to set it—he had no intention of going to class today. It was the last day of his first year, and with finals already out of the way, there was no real reason to show up.

But still, he got up early. He needed time—to stress about the stupid party he’d agreed to go to. Deep down, regret gnawed at him. What was he thinking? He wasn’t popular enough to show up at a party like that. He was a nobody, and the idea of being surrounded by the coolest guys on campus made him feel like a fraud. They’d probably mock him, whisper behind his back—unless, by some miracle, the people who thought he was hot spared him.

With a groan, he rolled out of bed, stretching his stiff limbs. Sleep had been restless, his thoughts too loud, too relentless. But at least it was something. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he scoffed. That’s not me. That can’t be me. He wasn’t the person staring back at him—he never was. He was supposed to be good-looking, right? Rubbing his face with both hands, he tried to shake the thought away, tried to pretend that seeing himself didn’t make his skin crawl.

The bathroom light flickered on, and he moved through his usual routine—shower, skincare, get dressed. It was the same every day, a ritual he clung to for some sense of control. For now, he opted for a hoodie and sweatpants, comfortable and safe, instead of the perfectly styled party outfit he had painstakingly put together. That could wait. Right now, he just wanted to exist without thinking too much.

In the kitchenette, he rifled through the fridge, eyes skimming over its pathetic contents. A few energy drinks and some fruit. His stomach twisted at the sight of an apple in his hand, and without thinking, he let it fall to the floor. The reflection from earlier flashed through his mind like a cruel reminder. With a sharp inhale, he shoved the apple back into the fridge and grabbed an energy drink instead.

This is enough for me, right? Yeah... it’s all I need.

Swiping a pack of gum off the counter, he stuffed it into his pocket, popping the tab on the drink and taking a sip. He stared at the can in his hand for a moment before setting it down and moving into the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

Today was going to be... interesting. The excitement he once had for the party was wearing thin, dissolving under the weight of his thoughts.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skylar was already awake, curled up on the living room sofa, gnawing on his fingernails. Shit. Maybe today wasn’t going to go as smoothly as he had convinced himself last night. That fleeting confidence? Gone. Completely shattered. And honestly, after yesterday’s disaster, he wasn’t even sure he could show his face on campus. Getting beat up in front of everyone… humiliating didn’t even begin to cover it.

I’m so fucked. His thoughts spiraled, fingers tapping restlessly against his knee. What the hell am I thinking? How am I supposed to get Ace back today? It wasn’t like Ace would even be on campus—he never bothered going on the last day. Skylar bit harder on his nail, frustration prickling under his skin. Maybe I should just go to his dorm? That wouldn’t be weird… right? Ace wouldn’t shut him out… right?

His nervous energy was practically vibrating off him when the sound of the apartment door opening made him jolt. He snapped his head up, expecting to see Marianna, but instead, his stomach dropped. Girls. Plural. Fuck.

Of course, Marianna had to bring her friends over. Those assholes laughed at him like he was some kind of accessory, Marianna’s pet to drag around when she felt like it. It sucked.

“Oh, uh, hey. You’re back early…” Skylar’s voice came out quiet, almost hopeful. “I thought your ‘girl trips’ lasted a couple of days?” Maybe her friends being here wasn’t all bad. Marianna never laid a hand on him when they were around.

As his gaze flickered between the group, he noticed someone unfamiliar. A new face. Weird—Marianna wasn’t exactly the ‘making new friends’ type. It must have shown on his face because she spoke up, a too-sweet smile plastered on her lips.

“This is Izabella,” Marianna said, gesturing to the girl in question. “She’s from Poland—just like you! Her English isn’t great, so maybe you could help her out sometime. I think you two would get along well, if I do say so myself.”

Skylar blinked, eyeing Izabella warily. Marianna hadn’t smiled like that in a long time—like she was plotting something. He didn’t like it.

“Izabella, this is Skylar... my boyfriend, I guess.”

Skylar forced a tight smile. “Oh…kay? Nice to meet you, Izabella.” His tone was polite, but there was an undeniable bitterness behind it. She’d probably end up being just like Marianna’s other friends—mean, shallow, fake. But… something about her felt different. She was quiet. Reserved.

“Um, nice to meet you too, Skylar,” Izabella murmured, her gaze flickering away instead of meeting his eyes.

Weird, but whatever.

“Anyway,” Marianna chimed in, looping her arm around Izabella’s, “we’ll be in our room if you need me.”

Skylar nodded, but he knew what that really meant— stay out. Their room was off-limits, and it wasn’t like he cared. He had bigger things to worry about. Like Ace. Fuck. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was like his whole world was orbiting Ace again, and honestly? Skylar didn’t deserve him. Not after everything. He couldn’t just decide to be better and expect Ace to come running back like nothing happened. That’s not fair to him, Sky.

“Uh, sounds good,” Skylar shrugged, trying to sound indifferent. “I’ll probably head out later.”

“With who?” Marianna’s head snapped in his direction, her sharp gaze sending an immediate shiver down his spine. Shit. That look alone was enough to bring a flood of bad memories crashing in.

“A...Ace.” The name came out quieter than intended, almost like he was afraid of saying it too loudly. “If that’s okay.”

Marianna just nodded, but her expression darkened with annoyance. She hated Ace. Always had.

Lila, Marianna’s best friend, snorted. “He actually asks you permission to hang out with people?” she sneered, flicking Skylar a condescending glance before turning back to Marianna. “That’s kinda pathetic. But hey, if that’s what you’re into, Mary, more power to you.”

Marianna just laughed, a cold sound, before turning toward the bedroom. Her friends trailed after her like they always did, and Skylar let out a quiet sigh of relief.

I’ve got bigger things to deal with today.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It felt like time had skipped ahead without him, because somehow it was already 5:30. Ace stood frozen in front of his full-length mirror, staring at his reflection with something close to terror. That’s not me. His jaw clenched as he smoothed his hands down his outfit, tugging at the fabric, trying— desperately —to make himself look better. But it wasn’t working. Nothing ever worked.

All he could see staring back at him was something wrong, something ugly, something that made his brain ache just looking at it. This wasn’t what he looked like yesterday. No—yesterday, he was badass, and he still was.

He wasn’t ugly. Right?

Ace swallowed thickly, his bottom lip trembling as his eyes welled up. He exhaled a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his gelled dark hair, fingers trembling against his scalp. He was hot—people said so—but he’d never believed it. Not when that thing in the mirror was all he could see. Or when photos betrayed him with a version of himself that didn’t feel real.

He adjusted his outfit again, forcing himself to believe it was fine. No one would really care what he looked like, right? Not in a dark, crowded party where everyone would be too drunk to notice—hopefully.

With a frustrated grunt, he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his knuckles, gaze tearing away from the mirror. Days like this were the worst. The self-loathing hit hard, suffocating, louder than any compliment could ever be.

If Skylar were here, Ace thought bitterly, he’d wipe my tears and tell me I’m gorgeous with that stupid smile of his.

The thought made his chest tighten, and before he could stop himself, the tears came back.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He could almost feel it—Skylar’s arms wrapping around him from behind, the familiar weight of his head nuzzling into his shoulder.

"Don't cry, Acey," Skylar's voice whispered against his skin, soft and soothing in a way that made everything feel lighter. He’d caught Ace staring himself down in the mirror before, spitting those awful thoughts, and Skylar never let it slide.

“No one calls my best friend ugly,” Skylar murmured, his tone turning faux-offended. “Ugh, that word doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s beautiful. Honestly. I take personal offense to that, by the way.”

Skylar pulled away just enough to point at Ace’s pouty expression, his brows furrowed dramatically. “C’mon, don’t make me frown. You don’t wanna offend me, do you?”

Ace sniffled, a soft laugh escaping despite himself. “Okay, okay... I’m average,” he said, forcing a small smile.

“Nuh uh. Not good enough,” Skylar shot back immediately, narrowing his eyes in that playful way that always made Ace cave. “No one calls my best friend ‘average.’ He’s so much fucking more than that. Gorgeous, inside and out.” His thumbs brushed gently over Ace’s cheeks, wiping away the tears with practiced ease. “Don’t you dare insult him like that.”

Ace sighed, defeated but warm in Skylar’s presence. “Alright, alright, I’m—”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gorgeous.

The word sat heavy in Ace’s chest as he whispered it bitterly to his reflection. Another tear slid down his cheek as he stared at himself, hollow and aching.

But this time, Skylar wasn’t here.

No reassuring words. No gentle hands wiping away his tears. No stupid teasing to make him laugh.

Just him. Alone.

And now, he was betraying the only person who had ever made him feel okay. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His phone buzzed. Elliot.

"You on your way? This party’s getting lit the fuck up, man. Come find us in the living room when you get here."

Ace stared at the message for a second before shoving his phone into the pocket of his leather jacket. Guess I’m really doing this. My first party... with fucking seniors. He wiped his eyes one last time and grabbed his keys, the familiar jingling sound drawing his attention to the little duck keychain hanging from them.

Skylar.

His throat tightened. He’d never get rid of this. Never.

The house loomed in front of him—massive, brick, with luxury cars parked in the driveway. It screamed wealth, the kind that made Ace feel like he didn’t belong. There were people everywhere, laughing on the porch, mingling in the yard, but no one paid him any attention as he hovered outside. He took a breath, stepping forward and knocking on the door, only to realize it was pointless—it was unlocked, left open for anyone to walk right in.

Not exactly safe, he thought, but whatever.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. His brows shot up in surprise. Fuck. This was nothing like he’d imagined. It was straight out of a movie—groups of people crowded together, red solo cups in hand, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and something stronger. The house was just as huge inside as it looked outside, and as he moved farther in, he found himself in the living room.

And that’s when it hit him.

The deafening music, the bodies packed tight, people grinding, shouting, laughing— chaos. But what made him stumble back slightly was Theo—the most popular senior on campus—down on his knees at the coffee table, snorting something white off the surface.

Oh my god. Is this what seniors did?

“Ay! Look who finally showed up!” Elliot’s voice cut through the noise, and before Ace could react, an arm slithered around his waist, pulling him close. His heart skipped a beat. What the fuck?

Elliot grinned at him, his words thick with intoxication—definitely more than just alcohol. "Lookin’ handsome , man. Fire ass fit.”

Ace blinked. Did Elliot Jeremiah just call me handsome?

Before he could respond, another voice chimed in.

“Who’s this?” A blonde guy appeared out of nowhere, his features eerily similar to Malachi’s. Ace didn’t need an introduction to know who he was. Pierre. The infamous host of tonight’s party.

“This is Ace,” Elliot announced proudly, his arm still firm around Ace’s waist. Pierre gave him a once-over, smirking in approval.

“So, you’re a freshman?” Pierre asked, his tone amused. “You ever do coke before?”

Ace’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened, nerves prickling under his skin. “L-Like the soda? Yeah, I drink tons of Coke,” he laughed awkwardly, flicking his gaze between Elliot and Pierre, desperately hoping this was all a misunderstanding.

Pierre snorted, pulling out a small baggie from his flannel with casual ease.

“Fuck, I love freshmen,” he chuckled. “No, man. I’m talking about the good stuff.” He tilted his head toward the bag, the white powder inside catching the dim light. “Since it’s your first time, it’s on the house. We all gotta do it, so let’s start this party off right , yeah?”

Ace’s jaw slackened, his breath catching in his throat.

“...Oh.”

Chapter Text

“I… uh, I’ve never done this before… I…” Ace stammered, his palms suddenly clammy as the heat of the packed room pressed in on him.

Theo stood up from the floor, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, a wide, hazy grin spreading across his face. “That’s even better, man. First time’s always the best, trust me. It’s a whole new experience—one you’ll never forget.” He winked, reaching out to ruffle Ace’s perfectly gelled hair, making him flinch.

Ace swallowed hard. “Are you guys… sure this is okay? I mean, it’s not exactly… legal.” His voice barely cut through the pounding bass vibrating through the house.

Pierre snorted, shaking the tiny baggie in his hand like it was no big deal. “Legal, shmegal. That’s for losers, man. Look, I’m offering you free shit, and you’ll get some clout out of it. It’s a win-win. You’re too hot to be a nobody, Ace card.” His grin widened, sharp and full of trouble.

Ace’s chest tightened. “So… you really think I should?” He darted a glance at Theo, who looked about five seconds away from collapsing. Would I end up looking like that if I did it? It’s just one hit… right? No one gets hooked after the first time… and maybe they’re right. Maybe I do need to loosen up.

The cheers and applause from the crowd were deafening, hands clapping against his back, the pressure closing in fast. The tiny voice of reason screaming at him was drowned out completely.

“Okay, okay… but just this once,” he mumbled, forcing out a shaky grin. Shit, I gave in way too easily. The thought of Skylar flashed through his mind. What would he say if he saw this?

Pierre whooped, grinning ear to ear. “Atta boy! On your knees,” he instructed, dropping down in front of the coffee table. “Watch and learn.”

Ace’s legs felt like jelly as he lowered himself, nerves buzzing through his veins. The crowd around them grew tighter, eager eyes locked on him. He could hear their murmurs—half-jeering, half-cheering—and it was making his skin crawl. No way they’d remember this in the morning, right? Right?

Pierre didn’t seem to care about the growing audience. With practiced ease, he poured out a thin line of powder onto the table, grabbing a card from Theo and smoothing it into place. “Alright, watch closely.”

Ace’s stomach churned as Pierre bent down and inhaled in one smooth motion, his pupils dilating almost instantly. He wiped his nose, laughing like it was nothing. “See? Easy. Your turn.”

Ace’s heart hammered against his ribs. Fuck.

Ace grabbed the baggie from Pierre’s hand, his desperation to fit in overpowering every shred of common sense screaming at him to stop. If Skylar found out about this, he’d lose it—hell, he might even cut him off completely. And somehow, that felt worse than anything, worse than the drugs, worse than dying.

But here? Right now? These people were cheering for him, treating him like he actually mattered, and that was enough. More than enough.

He mirrored Pierre’s movements, lowering his face to the powder. The second it hit, a searing burn shot through his nose like fire. “Fuck—!” he choked, jerking upright and stumbling back a step, his eyes darting wildly around the room. His heart pounded, his senses dialed up to eleven, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out.

“He did it!”

“Holy shit, how have we never seen this hottie around campus?”

“Freshmen just keep getting cooler every year.”

The applause hit Ace like a high of its own, drowning out the lingering doubt clawing at the back of his mind. His nerves? Gone. The drug coursed through him, fueling an electric rush of confidence—he could take on the whole damn world right now.

Elliot clapped a hand on Ace’s back, grinning like a proud older brother. “You’re one of us now, Ace.” He shoved a red cup into Ace’s hands, the liquid inside sloshing ominously. “Drink up, man. This is the party of the year... and it’s our last one.” His voice dropped slightly, a strange sort of finality lacing his words as he leaned against Ace’s shoulder.

Ace didn’t hesitate. He brought the cup to his lips, downing it in long, reckless gulps. The burn hit his throat like gasoline, making him wince. This was more than just alcohol—something heavier, something that curled in his gut and made the edges of the room blur.

Did they put something in here?

The thought barely surfaced before it was drowned out by the intoxicating haze clouding his brain. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore. Not tonight.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skylar was mindlessly scrolling through his phone, his eyes glazing over the endless feed of nothingness. It was already 8 PM, and he still hadn’t mustered the courage to show up at Ace’s dorm. Instead, he found himself lost in the black hole of the internet, anything to keep his mind busy. The distant sound of Marianna and her friends laughing loudly from their shared bedroom made him roll his eyes. Nothing’s that funny.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back against the cushion, a soft groan slipping past his lips. He may or may not have sent Ace a few too many texts—like some desperate ex.

“Ace, I miss you.”
“Please let me make this up to you.”
And finally,
“I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Skylar let his phone drop beside him, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t holding his breath for a reply—he’d given up checking every two minutes because it was driving him insane. Not that he wasn’t already losing it.

Ace is probably asleep by now—right? He clung to that thought, convincing himself it made the silence less painful. Things would work out, eventually. They had to. Just like those corny romance novels he secretly devoured late at night—not that he was comparing his situation with Ace to one of those or anything. Totally not.

Still, his mind wandered, painting pictures of what they’d be like if their story was pulled straight from some cheesy love story. And, well... some of those scenarios were definitely not PG-rated.

His eyes snapped open, heart pounding as he realized where his thoughts had drifted. What the absolute fuck, Skylar? He ran a hand over his face, mortified. Ace was his best friend. They were both straight. He was not some hormone-driven teenager. He needed to get his head out of the gutter— fast.

Shifting awkwardly, he adjusted his position, subtly fixing his pants to make things... less obvious. But the heat in his cheeks lingered. How the hell did his brain even go there?

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open snapped him out of his spiral, and he flinched when a soft voice cut through the air.

“Hey... Skylar, right?”

His head jerked up, locking eyes with Izabella—Marianna’s new friend.

“Oh, hey,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly. The embarrassment still fresh in his system, his face practically screaming busted.

“Do you mind if I sit here with you? It’s... a little overwhelming in there,” Izabella murmured, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Was she blushing? Skylar couldn’t quite tell.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he shrugged, a little caught off guard. Marianna and her friends usually treated him like some kind of running joke, so why was this one acting so... different? And in a way that wasn’t mocking? He wasn’t even sure if he liked it.

Izabella sank into the couch beside him— way too close. Immediate warning bells rang in Skylar’s head, and he subtly scooted away, not wanting to make it obvious. But almost instantly, she shifted closer again. Oh... kay. This was getting weird.

“Sorry, I get... shy around new people,” Izabella whispered, her face now turned away, but there was no mistaking the deep blush dusting her cheeks. Yep, definitely beet red. Weird.

“Uh, that’s okay. I’m not gonna like... hurt you or anything,” Skylar mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his head back.

Izabella hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “Marianna doesn’t seem to like you very much.” Her eyes widened in embarrassment right after, as if realizing she’d spoken without thinking.

Skylar wasn’t surprised. He knew there was nothing between him and Marianna—no love, barely any tolerance. Just her controlling grip that, for some reason, refused to let him go.

“Really? That’s too bad,” he deadpanned, not even bothering to fake any concern. “How’d you figure that out? Marianna doesn’t usually talk about me to new people.” He shot her a curious glance, his brow slightly furrowed.

Izabella fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “Well... they don’t think I understand English all that well, so they talk about anything in front of me. I’m Polish. I lived there up until last year,” she admitted, looking a little nervous about the confession.

“Oh, right,” Skylar nodded. “Yeah, I remember Marianna mentioning that. I’m Polish too. I mean, I’ve only been to Poland a couple times, but both my parents are from there, and I grew up speaking it, so... it counts, I guess.” He exhaled a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Izabella’s shoulders relaxed, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, she told me you were Polish. I never would’ve guessed, though—I mean, you don’t exactly look it... no offense,” she snickered.

Skylar grinned. “No offense taken. I guess I just missed out on the gene lottery or something.” The conversation flowed more easily now, and he had to admit—maybe Izabella wasn’t like Marianna’s usual crowd after all. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

But then his phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Sorry,” he muttered, fishing it out of his pocket. His stomach dropped when he saw the sender: Anonymous. His fingers hovered over the notifications before clicking them open. Attached were several images—and a video.

His blood ran cold.

No. No. No.

That was Ace. His Ace. In a party he shouldn’t be at, looking... completely out of it. Skylar’s heart pounded as he swiped through the photos in disbelief, watching the short clip that accompanied them. This couldn’t be real. It had to be photoshopped, right? Right?

Izabella noticed the way he froze, her expression shifting with concern. “What is it...? Is everything okay?”

Skylar swallowed hard, shoving his phone into his pocket. “No... I have to go. Right now. ”

Chapter Text

A party was the last place Skylar thought he’d end up tonight—especially not to drag his drunken, or so he assumed, best friend home. Standing outside the massive house, he hesitated. The familiar brick walls and luxury cars in the driveway made his stomach churn. Malachi Vincenzo’s house.

"Fucking shit, Ace, I hate you so much right now," he muttered under his breath, pushing through the throngs of seniors. They were too lost in their own worlds to notice the lanky figure weaving between them. Skylar’s blood boiled with every step, rage bubbling just beneath his skin. He never thought he’d be grateful for an anonymous tip, but here he was, tracking Ace down using nothing but a few blurry images and a carpet that screamed Malachi’s bedroom.

Look at you playing detective, Sky. Hilarious.

He shoved the door open, and the sight inside nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Ace— Malachi?! What the fuck was he looking at right now? Ace, his Ace, making out with Skylar’s worst fucking nightmare. No. This wasn’t real. This had to be some fucked-up fever dream.

Ace looked up, his lips parting from Malachi’s with a hazy, drunken grin. His glassy eyes barely focused on Skylar before he burst into a fit of giggles and rolled off the bed. "S-skyyylaaaarr!" he slurred, spreading his arms wide as if he wasn’t seconds away from ruining Skylar’s entire life.

Skylar stood frozen, his fury turning ice cold. "Are you fucking serious, Ace?" His voice was sharper than he’d ever heard it, his expression twisted into something unrecognizable.

Malachi, of course, smirked, stretching lazily before sauntering over like he owned the place. "Why the hell are you in my bedroom, you perv?" he drawled, cocking his head with that signature arrogance Skylar loathed.

Skylar clenched his fists so tight his nails dug into his palms. Fear wasn’t even in his vocabulary right now—just pure, undiluted rage. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fucking murder you right now."

Malachi’s smirk faltered, just barely, a hint of unease flickering in his eyes. He was definitely less wasted than Ace, but still intoxicated enough that Skylar could see cracks forming in his usual cocky exterior. "Skylar, come on, you couldn’t kill me in your wildest dream," Malachi said, though his voice wavered just enough to give him away.

Skylar took a step forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "You took advantage of him, Kai. You get that, right? I could send those videos to the police and have you locked up for assault. Is that what you want on your record?"

Malachi’s face paled. "W-what? What the fuck are you talking about? You’re bluffing." He tried to keep his cool, but Skylar could practically smell the panic rolling off him in waves.

"Am I?" Skylar raised a brow, his grip tightening around his phone. "Ace is blackout drunk. He can’t give consent, and you damn well know it. He doesn’t even know what fucking planet he’s on. This—" he gestured between them, "—ends now."

"Ace, sit down," Skylar snapped, ignoring Malachi’s frantic stammering. "Just—sit. I’ll deal with you later."

Ace blinked up at him, still in a fog, grinning like a fool. "Skylar!"

Skylar groaned, resisting the urge to strangle his best friend on the spot. First, he had to get them the hell out of here. Then he’d figure out how to fix this.

"I said sit your ass down! " Skylar’s voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and unwavering. Ace flinched, his drunken grin vanishing in an instant as he sank to the floor, wide-eyed and silent. Skylar’s chest heaved, his fists trembling at his sides. Don’t feel guilty now. You’re doing the right thing. But no matter how much he tried to push it away, the image of Ace with Malachi was seared into his brain.

Malachi wouldn’t even meet Skylar’s glare anymore. He knew Skylar wasn’t bluffing—knew that when it came to Ace, Skylar didn’t play games. But that didn’t stop the sudden punch that landed square in Malachi’s chest, sending him stumbling back onto the bed with a choked gasp. Skylar didn’t even realize he’d thrown the punch until he felt the sting in his knuckles. He didn’t care.

"Touch him again, and the video goes straight to the cops. Do you hear me?" Skylar’s voice was low, shaking with rage. There was no hesitation, no doubt, only the burning satisfaction of finally seeing Malachi in pain—where he belonged.

Before Malachi could sputter out a response, Skylar grabbed Ace’s hand, yanking him up and out of the room. His grip was iron-tight around Ace’s wrist, knuckles white, as he muttered curses in Polish under his breath. He held on like letting go wasn’t an option, like if he did, Ace might disappear into this mess all over again.

This is my fault. The thought hit him like a brick, settling deep in his chest. If I hadn’t pushed him away, he wouldn’t have ended up here. He wouldn’t have needed… this.

The moment they stepped outside, away from the pounding music and suffocating heat, Skylar’s strength crumbled. His bottom lip trembled before a shaky sob broke free. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Ace, holding him so tightly it was as if he was trying to mold him back together. Ace gasped, startled, but quickly melted into the embrace, hugging Skylar back with equal desperation.

Skylar buried his face in Ace’s shoulder, his voice muffled and raw. "Don’t ever pull this shit again, Ace. I—I can’t lose you. When you're sober, we’re having a long talk," he whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Ace’s shoulder—an instinctive gesture, one that spoke of all the things he couldn’t say yet.

Ace didn’t say a word, just held him tighter, and for the first time in a long time, Skylar let himself cry in his best friend’s arms.

After a long moment, Skylar pulled back, wiping at his damp face before his grip on Ace’s wrist tightened again, this time gentler. "Come on. I’m taking you home. And I’m staying with you tonight, okay?" His voice left no room for argument. He needed to be sure Ace was safe.

Everything else—Marianna, his own hurt, the weight of tonight—could wait until tomorrow. Right now, nothing mattered more than getting Ace away from here.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door clicked shut behind them, and Ace immediately flopped onto the sofa with a loud groan. Skylar rolled his eyes, locking the door before walking over to him. Talking sense into Ace right now would be pointless—he was too far gone to even understand what was happening—but that didn’t make Skylar any less pissed.

“Ace, what the fuck were you thinking?” Skylar grumbled, dropping onto the couch beside him. His nose wrinkled in disgust. “You reek. Alcohol? Weed? Didn’t we promise each other we wouldn’t touch that bullshit?” He slouched forward, propping his chin on his fist, frustration oozing from every pore.

Ace snickered, rolling onto his back and gazing up at Skylar with an intensity that made his stomach twist. “I waaaasss just living a liiiittle , ” he slurred, dragging out the words lazily. His eyes narrowed playfully. “Jeez, you really don’t like that Malachi guy, huh? What, you got some beef I don’t know about?” He paused before bursting into laughter. “Yeah, right. If you did, you’d have told me.”

Skylar stiffened. Shit. He couldn’t let Ace know he was actually onto something. If Ace found out about all the things Skylar had been keeping from him, he’d have every right to be even angrier than Skylar was at him.

“No,” Skylar muttered, forcing himself to stay composed. “I just didn’t appreciate walking in on my best friend all tangled up with some guy.” His eyes stayed fixed straight ahead, avoiding Ace’s gaze like it burned.

Ace snorted. “It’s called experimentation , ” he teased, his words slurring into each other. Without warning, he sat up—then immediately collapsed onto Skylar’s shoulder, nuzzling into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. “When I’m with you, I get all these... weird, confusing feelings. Like... my heart goes a million miles a minute, and I don’t wanna let you go, ever... but I’m not gay or anything.”

Skylar’s entire body locked up, his head snapping toward Ace in shock. His heart stuttered. What the hell did he just say? A warm blush crept up his neck, spreading across his cheeks before he could stop it.

“Shut up, you don’t even know what you’re saying, dumbass,” Skylar mumbled, trying to sound annoyed, trying to act grossed out—but God, the saying a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts kept echoing in his mind, and he hoped, deep down, it was true.

With a soft but firm shove, Skylar pushed Ace back onto the couch, but Ace just laughed, his eyes hazy and unfocused. Yep. Completely gone.

Ace blinked up at him, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “C’mon... we’ve been friends since, like... kindergarten,” he drawled. “And you’re telling me you’ve never thought about what it’d be like? Y’know... sleeping together.”

Skylar swallowed thickly, feeling his stomach flip. If he were really the straight guy he always pretended to be, he could’ve laughed it off, but the problem was... he had thought about it. More than once.

“Ace, stop,” Skylar groaned, burying his face in his hands, desperate to hide the burning heat flooding his face. This was insane. Ace was more perceptive drunk than sober—was that even possible? Before Skylar could pull himself together, he felt Ace’s hand wrap gently around his wrist, sending an unexpected jolt through him. Holy shit, his hands are soft.

“Don’t hide your pretty face,” Ace murmured, his touch light but lingering as he pried Skylar’s hands away.

Skylar’s breath hitched. His wide blue eyes locked onto Ace’s, who—despite being wasted—was blushing just as much as he was. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be one of those stupid erotic fantasies Skylar kept having.

He bit down on his bottom lip, struggling to steady his voice. “Stop. You’re being disgusting,” he managed, though the words came out a little too breathless, a little too weak.

Ace only grinned wider. “Am I? You sure seem to like it.”

“I also like personal space , just so you know,” Skylar muttered, his voice tight. He needed to be the responsible one here—he had to be. This had to stop before it spiraled any further, because he wasn’t sure he could control himself if it did. And he was still pissed at Ace. This wasn’t the time for any more of Ace’s so-called ‘experiments.’

Ace huffed in defeat, his body sinking into the couch. As he shifted, his hand accidentally tugged down Skylar’s sleeve. The moment his gaze landed on the deep, jagged marks hidden beneath the fabric, his breath caught.

“Skylar…what the hell is this?” Ace’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper, the sight alone sobering him up in an instant. He reached out hesitantly, fingertips trembling, but Skylar was quicker—jerking away like he’d been burned, yanking his sleeve back into place.

“Do you just not understand what the word stop means?” Skylar snapped, his voice cracking with anger—anger that masked the sheer humiliation coursing through him. “You get all bitchy when I’m not around, but when I am around, I have to babysit you like you’re some kind of fucking child!”

Ace flinched, his eyes wide, filling with tears that he stubbornly tried to blink away. “Skylar—what?” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, what? Do you hate me now? Is that it?” Skylar’s voice rose, trembling under the weight of emotions he couldn’t quite name. Fear? Shame? Anger? “I get a girlfriend and suddenly you just— change? What happened to the Ace that actually had his shit together? The one who didn’t give in to all this dumb bullshit?”

Ace’s expression shifted, morphing into something raw—hurt, frustration, anger all rolled into one. “Oh, I changed? Skylar, look at you! ” Ace shot back, his voice wavering, but every word was clear. “I only did all this because I thought it’s what you fucking wanted. ” His fists clenched at his sides. “You were the one who pulled away first. I felt like an idiot just waiting for you, only to end up being treated like some second option.” His voice cracked, but he kept going. “I tried to make new friends, to stop feeling like such a fucking burden to you, but apparently, that’s not even good enough, huh?”

Skylar’s stomach twisted painfully, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw a single tear roll down Ace’s cheek. Fuck. This was all his fault. It always had been. All Skylar ever did was ruin the people around him. He was a walking curse, a bad luck charm—someone dangerous to keep close.

“Ace…” he whispered, the guilt clawing at his throat.

But Ace wasn’t done. His voice sharpened, tinged with something bitter and broken. “And fuck yes, I changed when you got with Marianna. She’s a goddamn bitch, Skylar, and I don’t know why the hell you’d keep shit like that from me.” His jaw clenched tight. “She’s not the angel you act like she is. What, did you really think I was stupid? Is that it?” Ace’s voice wavered, frustration spilling over. “You walk around with bruises all over your neck and hands and expect me not to notice?”

Skylar froze. His breath caught in his throat. How much did Ace know? How much had he figured out without Skylar realizing?

“Ace, you don’t—”

“I do.” Ace’s voice was firm, his hands trembling slightly. “I fucking do. ” He exhaled sharply, pointing at the fresh bruise peeking out from Skylar’s collar. “That—right there. It’s a handprint, Sky. A woman’s handprint. And unless you’ve got some secret girlfriend I don’t know about, the only woman in your life is Marianna.”

Skylar’s blood ran cold. Ace had pieced everything together, and the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

“Does she hurt you, Skylar?” Ace’s voice softened, his own fear creeping in, clouding his eyes. “ Be honest with me. Please. Just… be honest.”

Skylar swallowed hard, but the words wouldn’t come. His throat felt tight, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t know how to lie.

Chapter Text

“Ace, can you just slow the fuck down? You’re clearly on something—it’s making you delirious,” Skylar snapped, his voice trembling as his hand instinctively moved to cover the bruise he thought he’d hidden. Shit. The truth was clawing its way out, and for once, Skylar couldn’t keep it buried. Ace deserved honesty, but that didn’t make it any easier to give.

“N-no,” Ace stammered, his voice shaky but determined. “I feel more sober than ever right now, Sky. I’m worried.” His eyes locked on Skylar’s, unwavering despite the tears brimming in both their gazes. Ace’s voice faltered as realization dawned, his words catching in his throat. “Oh… my god.”

“It’s not even a big deal, okay? I’m handling it,” Skylar muttered, his voice quiet but tight. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The less he said, the safer he felt—safer from Ace’s judgment, safer from Marianna’s wrath. But his resolve was crumbling.

“Not a big deal?” Ace’s voice rose, frustration bleeding into his tone. “Not a big fucking deal? How long has she been doing this to you? And what else, Sky? What else have you been hiding from me?” His hand reached for Skylar’s sleeve again, but this time, Skylar didn’t flinch. Instead, he broke.

A soft sob escaped Skylar’s lips, and his shoulders trembled. “I don’t want to burden you… I never wanted to burden you, Ace. I’m so scared. I want to tell you everything, but I don’t know if you even want to hear it. It’s… a lot,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. Tears rolled freely down his cheeks, each one carrying years of pain.

“Sky… my beautiful Sky,” Ace murmured, his voice tender and breaking. He gently pulled Skylar into his arms, holding him close as if shielding him from the world. “Please don’t cry. I want to know. I want to know everything. That’s what best friends are for. You’re not a burden—you never could be. You’re the reason I laugh, the reason I smile, the reason I keep going. I’d rather hear every painful, gruesome detail than lose you. I’m so sorry for tonight. So, so sorry.”

Ace’s voice hitched as his own tears spilled over. He swallowed hard before continuing, his words hesitant but pressing. “Do… do you cut yourself, Sky?”

Skylar’s sobs deepened, heavy and raw, as if the dam he’d built to contain his pain had finally shattered. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t answer right away. The memory of his father’s reaction haunted him, the fear of reliving that rejection suffocating him. “I’m… clean,” he finally managed, his voice barely audible. “I don’t do it anymore, but… the scars—they’re ugly. Disgusting. I don’t want you to see them.” He wiped at his tears with shaky hands, trying to compose himself.

“No,” Ace said firmly, his voice steady despite his tears. “No, Skylar. The marks Marianna leaves on you—those are disgusting. Those scars…” His voice softened, breaking with emotion. “They’re not ugly. They’re a symbol of strength, Sky. And I hate myself for not noticing sooner. The blazers, the long sleeves—even when it was hot—you’d tug at them like you were terrified they’d roll up. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been there for you.”

Ace buried his face into Skylar’s shoulder, his tears soaking into the fabric. “I’m so sorry, Sky. You deserve better than this. Better than her. Better than everything you’ve had to endure.” His arms tightened around Skylar, holding him like he was afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, Skylar might slip through his fingers forever.

"Don’t blame yourself. Y-you’re the only reason I’m still here, Ace. I’m still fighting—for you," Skylar admitted, his voice barely a whisper as he fought the urge to crumble completely. Seeing Ace cry was like a knife to his chest. He hated it. All he wanted was to see that brilliant smile on Ace’s face again, to catch the gentle blush Ace probably thought he didn’t notice, to hear the little hitch in his breath whenever their hands brushed by accident.

“Can… can you promise me you’ll keep fighting, Skylar?” Ace’s voice broke, muffled by the fabric of Skylar’s shirt as he clung to him. “If I lose you… I wouldn’t have any reason to stay either. We’re halves, Sky, and together… we’re whole.” He trailed off, letting out a shaky laugh through his tears. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

Skylar blinked through his tears, his lips trembling into a soft, sad smile. “Yeah,” he murmured.

“You told me I looked super grumpy and unhappy all the time,” Ace continued with a weak laugh. “And you did everything in your tiny power to make me smile. God, nothing could stop you. You were soul-set on it, like it was your life’s mission or something.”

Skylar couldn’t help but laugh through his sobs, hiding his face in his hands. “Heh, yeah… I still have the mental image of the first time I saw you smile. It was adorable,” he said softly, his voice tinged with warmth.

“And now,” Ace grinned, his tears still clinging to his lashes, “you make me smile constantly. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever frowned when I’m around you. Your face is enough to make me forget everything else. It’s like… we were written in the stars or something.”

Skylar let out a bark of laughter despite himself, his eyes red and swollen from crying. “You’re so corny,” he teased, shaking his head.

“Corny? Come onnn,” Ace teased back, finally pulling away just enough to meet Skylar’s eyes. His own still glistened with emotion, but there was a soft smile playing on his lips now. “I read one of those romance novels you forgot at my place. It’s very clear you’re big on the whole ‘fate’ thing.”

Skylar’s face went beet red as a startled laugh escaped him. “Romance is cute, shut the fuck up!” he snickered, his giggles breaking the tension that had weighed them both down just moments before.

“Didn’t peg you for the smut type either, but hey, we all learn something new,” Ace added with a mischievous grin.

Skylar’s laughter bubbled up again, louder this time, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness in his chest lifted, even if only for a little while. 

"I really love you, Sky. You’re my best friend," Ace murmured, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. But saying best friend stung—because deep down, he knew there was more between them than just friendship. It had been brewing for a long time. Still, he would never force Skylar into something he wasn’t ready for.

“T-then… can you help me break up with Marianna?” Skylar blurted suddenly, gripping Ace’s hand like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “She won’t hurt me if you’re with me. And also… if it’s not too much of an inconvenience, can I crash here for a while?” His voice dropped to a whisper, as if afraid of his own request.

Ace’s eyes widened. Even though he was trying to act sober, the substances were still in his system, clouding his judgment. And let’s be honest—Ace was absolutely thinking with his dick when he agreed to this arrangement, even if he knew nothing would actually come of those thoughts.

“U-um, yeah, of course! I’ll help you break up with her right now if you want,” he offered a little too eagerly.

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “Slow down there, tiger. You need sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

Ace would be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for this breakup to happen forever—because he had. And now that it was finally within reach, he felt lighter, like things might finally go back to the way they were. They’d hang out all the time again, walk home together like they used to, and everything would feel right. Maybe he was being way too optimistic, but he didn’t care.

“Okay… okay…” Ace pouted, jutting out his bottom lip in an exaggerated sulk.

Skylar giggled. “God, you’re such a baby.”

“I’ll tuck you in, you’re still… high, or drunk, or whatever the hell you are,” Skylar mused, standing up and tugging Ace up along with him.

“The answer is all of the above… and more,” Ace grinned, leaning into him.

Skylar sighed dramatically. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?”

Ace smirked. “The real question is… what do you wanna do with me?” he purred, dropping his voice into the sultry tone he’d picked up from one of the Boys’ Love mangas Skylar had left at his place. ( Which was totally normal for a straight guy to read , Ace reasoned.)

Skylar didn’t miss a beat. “A lot,” he murmured, dragging Ace over to his tiny bedroom area before gently pushing him down onto the bed.

Ace’s smirk deepened, convinced Skylar was flirting, but it quickly faltered when Skylar finished his sentence.

“Like kill you for being such an idiot tonight. But hey, at least you look hot in that outfit,” Skylar added with a wink.

“Thanks, a lot of people told me that,” Ace teased, rolling onto his back, keeping his head turned to watch Skylar’s reaction.

Skylar stiffened, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Really?”

Ace snickered. “No, I just wanted to see how you’d react. I’m pleased.”

“God, I hate you,” Skylar groaned, rolling his eyes as he crouched down to pull off Ace’s shoes and leather jacket, making him more comfortable.

“Factually incorrect,” Ace hummed, drunkenly rolling onto his side. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Touche.” Skylar shook his head. “Now, get some sleep, you crackwhore . We have a lot to discuss when you wake up.”

Ace snorted but didn’t argue, letting Skylar tuck him in. Meanwhile, Skylar’s phone buzzed—probably a dozen times now—messages from Marianna that he pointedly ignored. He didn’t even open them. With Ace by his side, she didn’t scare him anymore. By tomorrow, it’d be over.

With a sigh, Skylar switched off the lamp illuminating the messy dorm and plopped down onto one of Ace’s chairs. It wasn’t an ideal sleeping arrangement, but he didn’t complain.

Ace rolled over again, propping his chin up on his elbow as he stared at Skylar shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice thick with exhaustion.

Skylar blinked, confused. “Uh… sleeping?”

Ace scoffed. “You think there’s any way in hell I’m letting you sleep in a chair?” His expression softened, unreadable yet firm.

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “You got a better idea?”

Ace nodded, voice unwavering. “Yeah. You’re sleeping in my bed.”

Chapter Text

“Mm, push over, man,” Skylar grumbled sleepily, shifting uncomfortably. His arm and leg dangled off the edge of the bed while Ace sprawled out like he owned the whole damn thing. If he weren’t so exhausted, he might’ve laughed at the absurdity of it.

Ace, of course, didn’t budge. Whatever was still lingering in his system had knocked him out cold—Skylar was pretty sure even a blaring fire alarm wouldn’t wake him. He scoffed, trying to ignore the irritation gnawing at him, but after another minute of clinging to a sliver of mattress, he’d had enough.

With a determined push, he shoved Ace with all his might. Miraculously, it worked. His best friend shifted just enough to give Skylar some breathing room, and with a satisfied sigh, he stretched out properly.

Warmth radiated from Ace’s body beside him, lulling him into one of the most comfortable sleeps he’d had in a long time.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning came too soon. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the mess of Ace’s bedroom. Skylar stirred slightly, shifting deeper into the heavenly comfort of the bed. God, was this thing made of clouds? It fucking felt like it.

Then the sound of retching shattered the peace.

Skylar groaned, prying his eyes open. It took a few seconds to fully process what was happening, but the empty space beside him on the bed—and the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up—made it clear enough.

“You good, Ace?” he called groggily, fighting against the urge to bury himself back under the covers. His body screamed at him to stay put, but his best friend came first.

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled toward the bathroom, where he found Ace kneeling in front of the toilet, looking pale as hell. Jesus, Skylar could practically smell the hangover from the doorway.

“Hangover?” Skylar asked, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “Are you at least coherent? Do you remember anything from last night?”

Ace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Somewhat.” His voice was rough, and there was a migraine practically etched into his expression. His stomach was clearly trying to purge itself of whatever was left in his system—not that there was much. Ace hadn’t eaten in a while.

Skylar crossed his arms, studying him. “Somewhat?” He hesitated before asking, “Do you remember what happened with Malachi?”

Ace frowned, turning to look at him with genuine confusion. “Huh? What happened with Malachi?”

Skylar’s stomach twisted. He had two choices—tell the truth and force Ace to face something awful, or pretend it never happened. As twisted as it was, he wanted the latter. If Ace didn’t know, it couldn’t hurt him… right?

“…Never mind,” he said quickly, brushing it off. “Do you remember our conversation?”

Ace blinked at him, then nodded. “About Marianna? Yeah. That specifically stands out. I remember that vividly.”

Skylar exhaled, relieved. At least he wouldn’t have to repeat that conversation from scratch. With summer break finally here, they had time to figure out their lives—whatever the hell that meant.

A moment of silence settled between them. Then Ace ruined it by puking again.

Skylar winced. God, he hated the sound of throwing up. Hated the visual even more. But for Ace, he’d bear it.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You should get back in bed. I’ll grab you some medicine, okay? I’ll stay with you today, take care of you.” He smiled softly, running a hand through his messy hair.

Ace barely registered his words. His gaze was locked onto Skylar’s lips, his breath hitching slightly. His heart was pounding in his chest—why the hell did that smile make him feel like this?

Take care of me? The words repeated in his head, looping endlessly.

If acting like he was dying meant Skylar’s undivided attention, then so be it.

“…Okay,” Ace murmured, swallowing hard. “Thanks. A lot.”

Skylar didn’t notice the blush creeping onto Ace’s face as he groaned and dragged himself back to bed. But even as miserable as he felt, Ace found himself smiling.

God, he was so screwed. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ace had been lying in bed for what felt like ages, but he wasn’t complaining—being pampered by a ridiculously handsome boy was a rare luxury. Every day, he fell a little deeper in love, and at this point, he was past saving.

From the kitchen, the comforting clatter of pots and the low hum of a familiar tune filled the air. Skylar was busy making soup, his hair clipped back with a set of pastel butterfly hairclips—ones Ace had lent him on a whim. Skylar had grumbled about how stupid he looked, but after Ace casually told him he looked cute, he hadn’t taken them out. He wasn’t sure why Ace’s opinion mattered so much, but every compliment left a warm, fluttery feeling in his chest.

His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh like it had a mind of its own. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. Marianna was spiraling—Skylar ignoring her for this long was practically unheard of, and she was no doubt on the verge of a meltdown. The thought didn’t scare him, though. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, Skylar felt powerful.

With a sigh, he fished his phone out and scrolled through the flood of messages—threats, apologies, desperate pleas for him to come back. Marianna wasn’t used to him standing his ground. It made her uneasy, maybe even afraid.

Good.

He finally pressed the phone to his ear, tucking it between his shoulder and cheek as he stirred the simmering soup. “Hey, Mary, can you stop blowing up my phone? It’s getting annoying,” he said casually, like he was talking about the weather.

A week ago, he wouldn’t have dared to speak to her like this. She demanded fear—something Skylar had always given her. But not today.

Not ever again.

“Skylar, I’m going to fucking kill you.” Her voice was venomous. “Do you think you can just disappear? Do you think you can talk to me like that? Get your ass home. Now.”

There was a time when that tone would’ve sent a shiver down his spine, would’ve made him crumble, desperate to appease her. And maybe a small part of him still wanted to—maybe part of him still thought he deserved it. But then he glanced toward the hallway, where Ace lay just a few feet away, suffering through his first-ever hangover.

His only hangover, if Skylar had anything to say about it.

“Hah. What?” Skylar let out a breathy laugh, stirring the pot absentmindedly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Mary.”

The silence on the other end was deafening, thick with disbelief. Then came the telltale sound of something crashing, a distant thud of an object meeting the floor.

“Are you testing me, Sky? Are you trying to piss me off? Because congratulations, you fucking did.” Her voice rose with every word, shaking with barely contained rage. “I hate your guts. I hope you fucking die.”

Skylar smirked, flipping off the stove. “So do I, Mary. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

A shaky exhale echoed through the line. He could almost picture her now, fists clenched, jaw tight, the realization sinking in that she had nothing left to hold over him.

“I don’t know why you act like we were ever something real,” he continued, voice steady. “Our whole relationship was built on blackmail, and now that you’ve got nothing left on me? I can walk away. I can break up with you right now.”

“Break up with me?” Marianna whispered, her voice suddenly smaller. For once, she sounded like she didn’t know what to say. And that? That was satisfying.

Then, like clockwork, the rage returned. “Fucking break up with me? How about I break all of your bones instead?” she spat, a weak attempt at intimidation. “You’re with that Ace guy, aren’t you? Just wait until word gets around that you’re a raging fag.”

Skylar let out a soft laugh. “Marianna, I don’t give a shit what anyone on campus thinks of me anymore—including you. We’re done. Do you hear me?” His voice dropped to a quiet, almost mocking tone. “And if you so much as breathe in my direction again, I’ll get a restraining order. We both don’t want it to come to that, do we?”

Silence.

Then, a sharp inhale. “Fuck you, Skylar. Good luck finding a place to stay. I’m keeping the apartment.”

Skylar’s grin widened. “No worries. I already have living arrangements sorted out.”

“I’m packing all your shit right now,” she snapped. “Come pick it up before I throw it out. And after that? Never speak to me again.”

“Fine by me.”

And with that, he hung up.

Holy shit.

He just broke up with Marianna.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The soup was finally done. Skylar poured the steaming liquid into a ceramic bowl, dropping a spoon in before carefully making his way toward the bed. Ace looked utterly miserable—curled up under the blankets, a mess of tousled hair and heavy eyelids. Like a sick puppy.

It was adorable.

Skylar couldn’t help but laugh. “How’re you holding up, soldier?” he teased, setting the bowl down on the nightstand.

Ace groaned dramatically. “Terrible. Feels like my brain is doing somersaults in my skull.” His limbs sprawled out over the bed, but the scent of the soup caught his attention. It smelled amazing—he just wasn’t sure if his stomach would agree.

Then, Ace squinted up at Skylar, his dazed mind finally catching onto something. “You look way too giddy for someone dealing with my suffering,” he muttered, pressing a lazy finger against Skylar’s chest.

Skylar practically beamed. “I just broke up with Marianna.”

Ace blinked. “Wait—what?”

“I’m a free man,” Skylar declared, grinning so wide it practically split his face. “Like, in the most literal sense. I don’t have to deal with her bullshit anymore.” His voice softened, like he still couldn’t believe it himself. “I’m over the moon, Ace.”

Ace’s stomach flipped.

His heart picked up speed, hammering against his ribs. No. Not now. Don’t be weird about this.

But then he looked at Skylar—his delicate features glowing under the soft light, those stupid butterfly clips barely holding back his messy hair, his skin looking so damn soft—and Ace knew.

He knew.

This was beyond friendship. It had been for a long time. And the part of him that spent years avoiding his own feelings, pushing them down, ignoring what they meant—yeah, that part had given up. He’d already come to terms with it.

He wanted Skylar.

To hold. To kiss. To love freely.

Hell, if Skylar ever gave him the chance, he’d scream it from the rooftops.

But Skylar was unpredictable when it came to things like this. Ace had no clue where he stood when it came to his own sexuality. He never really talked about it, which left Ace assuming the worst—that Skylar was painfully, dreadfully straight.

Even so, Ace couldn’t stop his mind from running. Skylar was single now. Did that mean… he had a chance?

“That’s really awesome, Sky.” He forced his voice to sound normal, hiding the fact that his head was flooded with images of them together—dating, holding hands, waking up next to each other, whispering sweet nothings in the dark. God, he needed to get a grip. “I’m happy for you.”

Skylar giggled, and it was so unfairly cute that Ace had to grip the blanket to keep himself grounded. “Isn’t it?” he sighed dreamily. “I’m gonna go pick up my stuff in like ten minutes. Thanks for letting me crash here, by the way. I promise I won’t be a burden. I’ll keep up with cleaning, and I’ll pick up extra shifts so I can start looking for a new place. Fuck, things are finally looking up.”

Ace’s stomach twisted.

Letting Skylar stay with him was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever agreed to. Not because he didn’t want him here—no, quite the opposite. He wanted Skylar to stay. Forever, if possible. But controlling himself? That was going to be a goddamn struggle.

Skylar was basically a walking wet dream, and Ace had been doing a piss-poor job of pretending otherwise. The accidental touches, the way Skylar fit so perfectly against him in bed, the occasional lingering stares—yeah, he was in trouble.

And to make things worse? There was only one bed in this dorm room.

“N-no need to think about moving out already,” Ace blurted, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “You haven’t even been here for two days.”

Skylar frowned. “I just don’t wanna be a burden, Ace. Or a leech. I need to pull my weight.”

Ace scoffed. “Dude. I’m your best friend. It’d make me a massive douche if I expected all that from you. Your company is enough.” He hesitated for a split second before adding, “Just focus on school, okay? Don’t stress about the job, or moving, or any of that bullshit.”

It was a lame excuse. He knew that. But he was grasping at straws.

Anything to make Skylar stay.

Skylar’s phone buzzed, but he didn’t even glance at it. He already knew who it was—Marianna, no doubt barking at him to come pick up his stuff.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, flashing Ace a small smile. “Try to get some of that soup down, ‘kay? Love you.”

And with that, he was out the door.

—---------------------------------------------------

When Skylar arrived at the apartment, he braced himself for the worst. He figured he’d have to go inside, endure some final round of Marianna’s bullshit, but—no. His belongings were already packed and dumped in front of the door.

Wow. Real classy.

He muttered a curse under his breath, bending down to grab his things. A backpack, two suitcases. It looked like everything was there. And if anything was missing? Whatever. He’d replace it. Fresh start, right?

The bags weren’t heavy—mostly because Skylar didn’t own much. He never let himself get too comfortable in that place. How could he, when every inch of that apartment was tainted by bad memories?

Still, before he left, there was one thing he needed to check.

Dropping to one knee, he unzipped his backpack, sifting through the contents until his fingers brushed against something small, soft, and worn with time. A quiet sigh of relief escaped his lips.

His teddy bear.

Raggedy, old, practically falling apart, but priceless. His mother had given it to him before she passed away, and he cherished it like his life depended on it. He’d managed to keep it safe for nineteen years—he’d keep it safe forever.

Zipping up the bag, he slung it over his shoulder, clutching the bear tightly in one arm. A quick glance at his phone told him that Marianna had already blocked him.

Good riddance.

For the first time in forever, he felt… free. Like life might actually be bearable now. College could finally be normal.

And best of all? He had Ace by his side.

—---------------------------------------------------

Skylar made it back to the dorm, kicking the door open with his foot and shutting it the same way. He dropped his bags onto the couch before heading straight to check on Ace.

The bowl of soup on the nightstand was still mostly full, but Skylar could tell he’d at least tried to have some. That was something. But what really caught his attention was Ace himself—sprawled out on the bed, dead to the world.

Fuck. He looked adorable.

Skylar’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, brush the messy strands of dark hair from his best friend’s face.

What even is this feeling?

It happened every time he was around Ace. That strange warmth in his chest. The way his breath caught sometimes. Was this normal? Did Ace feel like this too?

For someone who had read more romance novels than he cared to admit, Skylar felt completely, utterly clueless.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Asleep so soon, huh? You’re so annoying,” he murmured, voice soft.

Ace needed rest. He looked exhausted.

Still, Skylar couldn’t resist pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the ridiculous sight in front of him. Not for any weird reason, obviously. Just… blackmail. Purely for teasing material.

Definitely nothing else.

Smirking at the photo, he shut his phone off and tossed it onto the nightstand before turning his attention to the rest of the dorm.

It was a disaster .

Not that he expected anything less. Ace wasn’t exactly known for keeping things tidy, unlike Skylar, who was—according to Ace—a clean freak .

Sighing, he got to work unpacking. It didn’t take long, considering he didn’t have much. He kept his books tucked safely in his backpack, well out of Ace’s reach, because he knew they’d only be used for mockery.

Then came the most important step—arranging his stuffed animals on the couch.

Yes. His children .

Each one had a name. Obviously.

Taking a step back, he surveyed the plush lineup and crossed his arms. “Roll call, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with mock seriousness. “Cuddles—check. Mittens—check. Cheeto—check. Sir Green Bean—check. And last but not least, my favorite—” he pointed dramatically at a well-loved stuffed bear, “—Mr. Augustyn, check.”

God, if Ace ever saw him doing this, he’d never live it down.

…Which was why his stomach dropped when he felt eyes on him.

Slowly— dramatically —Skylar turned toward the bed.

Ace.

Awake.

Grinning.

Laughing his ass off.

Skylar’s face burned. “What’s so funny?!” he demanded, arms crossing over his chest.

Ace wheezed. “N-no, stop! It’s cute! Aww ! I didn’t know Skylar had such a soft spot for his stuffies!”

Skylar groaned. “How much did you see?”

“The whole thing.”

“God, I hate you.”

Ace, still giggling, grinned up at him. “Love you too.”

Chapter Text

Two months had passed since they started living together, and Skylar hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Marianna all summer. Honestly, that was for the best.

“I can’t believe summer break is already over,” Ace groaned, flopping onto his bed like the world was ending. “That went by way too fast.” His eyes flicked over to Skylar, who was curled up in the corner of the room, nose buried in a book. “Skyyyy, pay attention to me,” he whined dramatically.

Skylar glanced up, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Honestly, school might be good for us, considering all we did was binge cheesy movies and go on those weird hangouts that were… uh, surprisingly intimate.”

“Like dates,” Ace teased, smirking.

“They were hangouts , you cringey freak,” Skylar shot back, snapping his book shut and resting it on his lap.

Ace snorted. “You can’t call me cringey when you’re reading that ,” he taunted, rolling off his bed and dropping to the floor in front of Skylar. Before Skylar could react, Ace had already swiped the book from his hands, grinning mischievously.

“Hey! Give that back!” Skylar’s eyes widened, panic setting in. His face turned bright red. Oh god, please don’t let him read any of that. It’s all pure filthy smut. He cursed himself internally, making a feeble attempt to snatch the book back.

But Ace was faster—and stronger. He leaned in, closing the distance between them, his body practically pinning Skylar against the wall. His fingers flipped the book open to the last page Skylar had been reading, his smirk growing.

“I knew you were into some nasty shit,” he teased, winking as he skimmed over the words. But as his eyes traveled further down the page, his playful demeanor faltered. His body tensed, a slow heat creeping up his neck.

“He did what ?!” Ace choked out, his grip slackening just enough for Skylar to snatch the book back. 

“Shut up! You don’t know what you saw,” Skylar yelped, clutching the book to his chest like it held the secrets to his entire existence. His wide, mortified eyes screamed pure panic.

Ace, on the other hand, looked way too entertained. “Hey, we all have our guilty pleasures,” he said, watching Skylar squirm. A wicked grin played on his lips. He’s so attractive when he’s like this—squirming beneath me.

Wait.

Did I really just think that?

“It’s not a guilty pleasure,” Skylar huffed, still trying (and failing) to slow his racing heartbeat. “I’m actually proud of my reading preferences. It’s literary art .” He crossed his arms, attempting to look confident.

“More like literary porn ,” Ace shot back, leaning in even closer. His smirk was absolutely devilish. “Why don’t you just watch the real thing at that point?” He furrowed his brows as if he was genuinely confused.

Skylar turned red—again. Was it even possible to blush this much? Because whenever Ace was around, that seemed to be all he did. And the worst part? His best friend knew it. He thrived on it.

Ace, catching onto Skylar’s mortification, had no intention of stopping his torture. “Ohhh, I get it. You’re one of those guys. The ones who are too shy to watch that kinda stuff, huh?”

“N-no! That’s not true at all!” Skylar stammered. “I just—I’m a responsible adult .”

“Hence why it’s called adult content.” Ace snickered. “And if you’re already acting all mature and proper, please, kill me before you turn twenty.”

“How about I kill you now ?” Skylar grumbled, desperate to change the subject.

But Ace wasn’t letting this go. It had been years since they’d had a conversation like this. The last time they talked about anything remotely dirty was when they were fifteen, holed up in Ace’s parents’ basement, discussing things they absolutely shouldn’t have been.

Ace tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Wait… have you even jerked off before?”

Skylar nearly choked .

Ace had said it so casually, like he was asking about the goddamn weather.

“Wha— what the fuck?! ” Skylar sputtered, practically combusting on the spot.

Ace shrugged. “I mean, you have to, right? Doesn’t every guy?” He leaned back slightly, finally putting some space between them—enough for Skylar to actually breathe something other than Ace’s overwhelmingly good cologne.

“That’s none of your business, perv !” Skylar groaned, burying his burning face in his hands.

Ace grinned. Yeah, that was enough teasing for one day. As much as he enjoyed making Skylar squirm, he didn’t actually want him to die from sheer embarrassment.

“Heh, okay, okay, my bad,” he chuckled, pushing himself up off the floor. He stretched his arms above his head, and as he did, his shirt rode up just enough to expose the toned ridges of his lower abs.

Skylar definitely wasn’t staring.

Nope. He was respectful . Totally not ogling his best friend’s body like some desperate, touch-starved idiot.

Is it possible for a man to ovulate? Because that’s gotta be what’s happening to me.

“Earth to Skylar Petrov— my eyes are up here ,” Ace teased, laughing as he pointed at his face.

To be fair, his eyes were mesmerizing. That perfect shade of icy blue, sharp but warm at the same time—eyes Skylar could absolutely get lost in. Correction: eyes he absolutely had gotten lost in.

Skylar’s gaze snapped up to Ace’s face, masking his thoughts behind an innocent smile. Act natural. Act normal. It’s not like he’d just been picturing his best friend’s body in… various scenarios. Nope. Definitely not.

That doesn’t make him gay though. No, Skylar was as straight as a ruler. A very straight ruler. He wouldn’t even let himself think otherwise.

Don’t need my dad hating me more than he already does, Skylar thought bitterly, quickly pushing it down. He sighed, trying to shake off his embarrassment. “Sorry… I, uh, zoned out,” he muttered weakly, suffocating under the weight of his own mortification.

Ace’s smirk widened. He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “If you keep looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

The words shot through Skylar’s core like an electric current.

Ace wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. The teasing, the flirting—he was blatantly enjoying Skylar’s suffering.

Skylar, on the other hand, was losing his grip on reality. His brain scrambled for anything to say that wasn’t Oh my God, do that again. Instead, what came out was:

“I swear I’ve read that line in a book somewhere.”

It was more to himself than Ace, but it was true. Skylar didn’t only read smut—he liked the romance too. He was a sucker for it. You can’t blame a guy for liking romance.

Ace chuckled, stretching lazily. “You’ve read tons of lines in books before.” He yawned mid-sentence, rubbing his eyes.

It was getting late.

Skylar glanced at the time, remembering that Ace’s classes started earlier than his this semester. They were in different majors after all, which meant different schedules. Less time together.

That thought didn’t sit well.

“You tired?” Skylar asked, standing up from the floor, still clutching his book against his chest.

“Yeah. And I can’t be late on my first day,” Ace grumbled. He hated the idea of being apart from Skylar again after spending the whole summer practically glued together.

“Come on, we’re sophomores now,” Skylar smiled. “This year’ll be good. We just have to put in the effort.”

Ace’s frown vanished instantly.

Yeah. That smile could fix anything .

“Sky, love you, man, but you’re sounding like a total nerd,” Ace groaned dramatically, another yawn slipping from his lips. He stretched his arms over his head before turning toward the bathroom. “Kay, I’m gonna take a shower and crash.”

He grabbed some comfy clothes, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

…His shower intentions were certainly not PG.

Ace stripped off his clothes without sparing himself a glance in the mirror. He didn’t need that right now. What he did need was an ice-cold shower—to clear his head, to calm himself down .

He stepped under the warm spray, letting the water cascade over his body. It felt too good, his mind drifting to places it definitely shouldn’t. Places Skylar would kill him for.

But hear him out—two months. Two months of sharing the same bed, hanging out nonstop , and going on outings that felt suspiciously like dates. It had Ace questioning things.

And maybe—just maybe —Skylar wasn’t as straight as he claimed to be.

That thought alone twisted something deep inside him. A kind of hope he knew was dangerous to hold onto.

Before he even realized it, one hand was braced against the cool tile, his other wrapped around himself, stroking firm, and slow, just enough to make a quiet sound slip out. His eyes fluttered shut, giving in to the fantasies that had been tormenting him for weeks.

“ Fuck… Skylar… ”

The name spilled from his lips before he could stop it, his voice barely above a whisper.

Thank God the shower was loud enough to drown him out. There was no way in hell Skylar could hear this.

His wet hair clung to his forehead, but he made no effort to push it away. He was already too far gone. The only images flashing through his mind were of Skylar—flustered, squirming, so damn cute when Ace pushed his buttons just right.

His breathing turned ragged, chest rising and falling as his strokes grew desperate. The thought of Skylar being just in the other room made his stomach clench, heat coiling tighter and tighter until—

His thumb brushed over the tip once, twice—his body tensed, pleasure washing over him in waves as he came with a shaky gasp.

His hand was slick and sticky with the evidence, and for a brief moment, guilt flickered in the back of his mind.

This wasn’t the first time. And if he was being honest? He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad.

Two months of being pent up, two months of this tension —he needed to let go. And fuck , did that feel good.

With a quiet sigh, he rinsed his hand off under the steady stream of water and forced himself back into reality. Time for an actual shower—one that involved washing his body and hair like a normal, functioning person.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Skylar was more of a morning-shower guy, so by now, he was already changed into his pajamas, curled up on his side of Ace’s bed. His arms were wrapped snugly around his beloved teddy bear, Mr. Augustyn—because let’s be real, there was no way he could fall asleep without him.

His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep.

Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn he heard a moan or two coming from the bathroom.

Now, was he really that much of a horny freak that he was straight-up imagining things? Jesus, give this poor boy a break. As if stress and fear weren’t enough to deal with—now, constant arousal was added to the list.

A few minutes later, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, effortlessly pulling him just a little closer. Skylar barely even reacted—this wasn’t anything new.

And listen, it wasn’t weird. Snuggling with your best friend? Completely straight behavior. Somehow, Ace had managed to convince him of that.

Not that Skylar had ever been uncomfortable with it to begin with.

If anything, he loved it.

Which was kind of surprising, considering how much he usually hated being touched. But with Ace … it just felt good . Right.

“Goodnight,” Skylar murmured, his body relaxing further into the warmth of his best friend. He fit against him perfectly .

“Night, night,” Ace mumbled sleepily, reaching over to turn off the lamp. The room dimmed, now only lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the nearly transparent curtains.

Outside, rain had started to fall, the gentle patter against the window lulling them both into an easy, comfortable sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ace was the first to wake up—not a surprise, really. He spent way too much time on his appearance to not force himself out of bed earlier than most.

It wasn’t even about impressing people. God no. He didn’t care about anyone else’s attention. The only person whose opinion mattered was Skylar’s. But still, his own insecurities wouldn’t let him slack. As someone whose life practically revolved around cosmetology, looking anything less than his absolute best felt like a crime.

A severe crime.

He groaned softly as he peeled himself away from the warmth of the bed, his body protesting every second of it. This was torture. The rain was still coming down outside, creating the perfect setting to sleep in and snuggle. And God, Skylar looked so comfortable. It was unfair.

Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end, and he had to get ready for his first day back in class. Ugh.

Ace moved quietly, careful not to wake Skylar. His best friend’s beauty sleep was sacred —even more important than his own. If he woke Skylar up before he had to? Instant guilt trip for the rest of the day.

Swiping his phone from the nightstand, he made his way into the bathroom, flicking on the lights—only to squeeze his eyes shut from the harsh brightness. Too early for this shit.

He went through the usual routine, splashing cold water on his face, dragging himself through the motions of getting ready. He had always hated school. Mornings were his mortal enemy. And ever since Skylar had started sleeping in his bed, his sleep had been so much better—so why the hell would he want to get up?

After throwing on his uniform, he half-assedly tied his tie, too tired to care. He’d fix it later, probably. Preferably before his professor had the chance to scold him.

He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it looked decent (though, to everyone else, he already looked like a damn Greek god), and spritzed on the cologne Skylar liked. He didn’t even think about it at this point—it was just part of his routine now.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he immediately noticed the soft glow from the kitchenette, the faint scent of pancakes filling the air. His bed was empty.

Of course Skylar was already up.

Ace let out a sleepy chuckle, running a hand through his damp hair. So much for not waking him.

“Heh, sorry. Did I wake you?” His voice came out deeper than usual, still rough from sleep as he dropped onto one of the kitchen stools, slouching forward in exhaustion.

Skylar glanced back at him, a warm smile on his face— too warm for 6:30 in the damn morning. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. Good morning,” he murmured before turning back to the stove.

Ace groaned softly. “Morning.”

“You excited? First day of sophomore year.” Skylar’s voice was light, casual, just trying to make conversation.

Ace rested his head on the counter. “If ‘excited’ feels like wanting to hang myself, then yeah. I’m feeling more than excited.”

“Come on, it’s not gonna be that bad,” Skylar countered, setting a plate in front of Ace. “Whipped cream and chocolate chips—your favorite.” He shot him a small smile before turning back to the stove.

Ace leaned back in his seat, eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of the pancakes. Mmm. Skylar’s pancakes were legendary . He could easily devour a million of them.

Halfway through his breakfast, he finally glanced up, only to realize the kitchen was already spotless. Damn. Skylar worked fast.

“You’re not eating?” Ace frowned, tilting his head. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”

Skylar snickered, leaning back against the pantry with his arms crossed. “I don’t eat breakfast anymore,” he admitted. “It messes with my stomach. Makes me feel gross for the rest of the day.”

Ace shrugged. “Fair enough.” He popped another bite of pancake into his mouth before adding, “By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Skylar raised a brow. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“My brother’s wedding is next month, and he said I could bring a plus one.” Ace let out a soft sigh. “You know how I am at those kinds of things.”

Skylar did, in fact, know exactly what he meant. Big events overwhelmed Ace like nothing else, and if things got too intense, he’d eventually shut down completely. But whenever Skylar was there, he was fine . Almost like it wasn’t an issue at all.

But—wait. Brother?

“I thought you only had a sister?” Skylar asked, confused.

Ace smiled. “He’s trans.”

“Ohhh, I get it now,” Skylar nodded, the puzzle pieces clicking into place. That actually made a lot of sense. And honestly, he had always liked Ace’s brother—he was always nice to him whenever Skylar came over.

“He goes by Aleks now,” Ace added, finishing off his pancakes. “I didn’t say anything before because he was still figuring things out, but now he’s comfortable, and I’m proud of him.” His lips curled into a grin before he snorted. “Only thing that pisses me off is that he’s getting married . Can you believe that? He’s twenty-two and already tying himself down. I just hope he doesn’t turn all strict and boring.”

“Married at twenty-two is insane ,” Skylar mused, shaking his head. “I still remember when he’d play video games with us instead of helping us with our homework.”

Ace chuckled. “Those were some good times…” His voice trailed off for a second before he perked up again. “Anyway, point is—I was wondering if you’d wanna come with me? I know how much you love wedding cake.”

Skylar didn’t even hesitate. “I’m in.”

A wedding actually sounded fun . He liked big parties, and honestly? It had been a while since he let himself have a good time.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Ace said, bowing his head slightly before pushing back his chair. He grabbed his bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder.

Skylar barely spared him a glance before snorting. “Yeah, no way am I letting you leave the house with your tie looking like that .”

Before Ace could protest, Skylar stepped in close— too close. Their faces were inches apart, way closer than they needed to be for a simple tie adjustment.

Skylar’s fingers worked quickly, fixing the mess Ace had made with effortless ease. When he was done, he murmured, “Have a good day today,” right into Ace’s ear.

Ace froze .

His body tensed like a live wire, his face heating up so fast it was almost embarrassing. He stumbled back a step, barely keeping himself from outright whining . Seriously, why does he have to do this to me?

“I—I’ll catch you later, bye,” he blurted, throwing up a hasty wave before practically slamming the door shut behind him.

Skylar just stood there for a moment, amused, before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Adorable.”

Chapter Text

Skylar had somehow managed to clean Ace’s entire dorm while his best friend was at class—completely by accident. Maybe Ace wasn’t wrong when he called him a neat freak. Now, with the place spotless and the clock barely hitting 9 AM, he had some time to finally catch up on his reading.

Grabbing one of Ace’s blankets, he curled up on the couch. It smelled just like him, which was probably why Skylar always preferred using Ace’s blankets over his own. For once, he wasn’t reading anything spicy—just something soft and slow, a story that matched the way he’d been feeling lately. Less tense, less on edge. Comfortable. Comfortable enough that he had even started wearing t-shirts around Ace, no longer paralyzed by insecurity over his scars.

His eyes moved across the page, but his mind had other plans, drifting as he absentmindedly took in the familiar surroundings. His gaze landed on one particular object on the shelf—a framed photo from their high school graduation. It was funny, looking back. Skylar had been deep into his alternative phase back then, all piercings and dark eyeliner. Most of them were gone now, but two still remained.

A sudden noise at the window snapped him out of his thoughts. His body tensed before he noticed the source—a kitten.

Oh my god.

It was tiny, fluffy, with warm brown fur and striking blue eyes—Ace in cat form, basically. Skylar crouched in front of the window, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

"Hey there, buddy," he cooed, his voice automatically slipping into that gentle, babyish tone people used with animals.

Skylar was a massive cat person. There was no way he could leave this adorable thing outside, even if the weather was perfectly fine. He needed an excuse—any excuse—to bring it in.

Sliding the window open, he hesitated for a second, watching as the kitten stared curiously back at him. They were both studying each other, equally intrigued. Then, the kitten let out a tiny "mmreow," and that was it—Skylar was done for.

"You're killing me, little guy," he murmured, reaching out a hand.

The kitten took a few hesitant steps forward but didn’t back away when Skylar’s fingers brushed over its soft fur. That’s it. It was official. They were best friends now.

Without a second thought, he scooped the tiny creature up, cradling it against his chest. It was so warm, so soft, so unbelievably perfect.

"I’m abso-fucking-lutely keeping you," Skylar whispered, grinning. He thought for a moment before nodding to himself. "Alright, how about… Brownie?"

Brownie let out a tiny chirp, and Skylar took that as confirmation.

"Yeah, I knew you’d like that," he smirked.

Skylar set the small, meowing creature down gently onto the wooden floor, his fingers still scratching lightly over its fluffy head. “Now, how am I supposed to convince Ace to let me keep you?” he mused aloud, eyes never leaving the kitten.

“Meow,” Brownie responded.

Skylar gasped dramatically. “You’re a genius,” he chuckled, dragging his hands down his face with an exaggerated whine. “But... Ace is probably strict about these things. He gives off dog-person energy, don’t you think?”

Brownie blinked up at him, as if in agreement.

Skylar tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Okay, what if I tell him I saved your life? Could you play the role of a helpless damsel in distress for me?”

As if understanding, Brownie widened his already ridiculously cute blue eyes and let out the most pitiful little mew.

Skylar clutched his chest, laughing. “Oh, you are perfect. Keep that act up when Ace gets back, and there’s no way he’ll say no! Trust me, we’ll be great parents—well, I will be. I can’t make any promises about him.”

Just as he finished speaking, he heard the distinct sound of the dorm door unlocking.

Oh, shit. Showtime.

Skylar quickly scooped Brownie up and cradled him to his chest, standing up as the door swung open. Ace stepped inside, running a hand through his hair, looking criminally good despite the exhaustion written all over his face. His tie was loosened, the top button of his uniform undone, and his cologne hit Skylar the second he walked in.

Ace froze mid-step, his tired eyes locking onto the tiny ball of fur in Skylar’s arms.

“What,” he deadpanned, dropping his bag onto the floor, “the fuck is that?”

Skylar gasped, clutching Brownie tighter. “ That is our son, you heartless bastard.”

Ace blinked, staring at him like he had two heads. “Come again?”

Skylar took a deep breath, putting on his most serious, heartfelt expression. “I saved his life, Ace. He was abandoned, starving, freezing to death —”

“It’s literally not even cold outside.”

Skylar ignored him. “—so I had no choice but to take him in. Look at him.” He tilted Brownie slightly toward Ace, the kitten letting out the most pitiful little squeak.

Ace stared at the tiny creature, then at Skylar, then back at the cat.

“Sky, we can’t have a cat.”

Skylar widened his eyes, playing his final card. “Are you seriously going to kick an innocent baby out into the cruel, unforgiving world?”

Ace pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. “Oh my god .”

Brownie meowed again, rubbing his tiny head against Skylar’s chin.

Ace sighed. Deeply.

“…Fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you take care of him.”

Skylar lit up. “ We take care of him.”

Ace rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Whatever.”

Skylar grinned, pressing a kiss to Brownie’s head. “You hear that, baby? You have two dads now.”

Ace groaned again, already regretting every decision that led him to this moment. 

Internally, Ace couldn’t decide whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation or cry because—let’s be real—taking care of a kitten was actual work. And if there was one thing Ace wasn’t a fan of, it was hard work . A soft sigh left his lips as he flicked his gaze back down at the tiny ball of fluff in Skylar’s hands. Despite himself, a barely-there laugh slipped out, and of course, Skylar caught it immediately.

“See?” Skylar grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “Don’t even try to act like you’re not already obsessed. Ace, I know you better than you know yourself, and I know you’re dying to kiss this little guy all over.”

That damn smile. Ace hated— hated —how easily Skylar could get away with shit just by flashing that ridiculous, heart-melting grin at him. And worse? He knew it worked. The kitten was just the latest in a long list of things Skylar had managed to get away with.

Ace sighed, shrugging off his blazer and tossing it over a kitchen stool. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. But you do realize taking care of a kitten is a lot of responsibility, right?”

Skylar waved him off, holding Brownie closer to his chest. “I’m not afraid of hard work,” he purred, voice dropping just enough to sound a little too smooth.

Ace stilled for half a second before narrowing his eyes. Oh, he knew that tone. The subtle flirtation, the playful edge—Skylar was absolutely messing with him. And it was working .

Ace cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Uh-huh,” he drawled, raising a brow. “I’m sure you’re not, but just so we’re clear—this little guy is gonna shit all over the place, and I am not on poo-duty.”

He wagged a finger for emphasis before jabbing it playfully against Skylar’s chest.

Skylar gasped, clutching the kitten dramatically. “How dare you. First of all, Brownie is an angel and would never —”

As if on cue, a soft pffft sounded from the kitten.

The two of them froze.

Ace stared. “Did—did he just—”

Skylar blinked before bursting into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Oh my god , he farted! He literally farted on me!”

Ace clutched his face, groaning. “Great. You’ve had him for five minutes, and he’s already disrespecting you. That’s your kid, for sure.”

Skylar was still cackling as he rocked the tiny kitten in his arms. “No, no, no, this just proves he’s meant to be ours. He’s already comfortable enough to gas me out!”

Ace gave him a deadpan look. “Sky, that’s not a flex .”

Skylar only beamed, eyes twinkling. “Oh, it so is.”

Ace sighed, rubbing his temples. This was his life now.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even mind it.

“You look exhausted. How was your first day back?” Skylar smoothly changed the subject, still happily snuggling their newly adopted child. Brownie was already his emotional support animal—Ace would just have to accept that. There was no going back now. This little fluffball was his forever.

Ace groaned, before running a hand through his hair. “Long doesn’t even begin to cover it. I got stuck behind some giant , so I couldn’t see the damn board half the time. And my professor? Guy speaks so soft and gentle, I swear he must get girls with that shit. But like, come on , you’re teaching a class! Speak up, man!”

He attempted an impression of the professor’s whispery voice, making his words overly delicate and drawn out. Skylar snorted, shaking his head as laughter bubbled out of him.

“You’re so full of shit,” Skylar teased. “You’re tall as fuck. Unless the guy in front of you was literally Bigfoot , you’re lying to me.”

Ace rolled his eyes but smirked.

Skylar suddenly lit up like he just had the best idea of his life. “Oh! If you’re so exhausted, give Brownie a pet or two. I guarantee he’ll make you feel better.”

He practically shoved the kitten in Ace’s face.

“No—” Ace started to protest, laughing as he instinctively leaned back. But then his brain finally caught up to what was happening, and his body went stock-still.

Skylar was so close.

Like, too close.

Ace could feel the warmth radiating off him, could see the way his long lashes framed his teasing, mischievous eyes. And for a second—just a second—Ace’s heart stuttered .

I love him so much. Only he can make me laugh and smile like this. Does he feel the same way?

Skylar, completely oblivious, just kept grinning. “Come on! Trust me!”

“Last time you told me to ‘trust you,’ we got lost for four hours in the middle of the city,” Ace pointed out, squinting at him. “It’s safe to say that phrase does not make me want to trust you.”

Skylar huffed, clearly unimpressed. “That was totally different, you prick! I thought I had a sense of direction, okay? But this , I know I’m right about. Brownie is, like, the cure to all problems.”

Ace sighed, finally making eye contact with the tiny kitten. Brownie was purring, staring back at him with wide, innocent eyes. The little thing was pretty damn cute.

Before he could think too hard about it, he reached out, giving Brownie a gentle scratch behind the ears. The kitten immediately leaned into his touch, letting out an even louder purr.

Ace melted a little.

Skylar grinned in victory. “See? You love him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ace muttered, but his fingers didn’t stop running through Brownie’s soft fur.

Skylar watched him with an amused glint in his eyes. “You know, I think this moment calls for a celebratory kiss.”

Ace’s brain short-circuited.

“What.”

Skylar held Brownie up. “From Brownie, dumbass.”

Ace exhaled, shoving Skylar’s shoulder with a groan. “God, why are you like this?”

Skylar just laughed, completely unbothered. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking something else for a second there.”

Ace turned red. Fuck.

“Shut up,” Ace muttered, turning away, but Skylar didn’t let him off that easy.

“Ohh no, no, no,” Skylar laughed, stepping around to block his path. “What was that reaction, Ace? That was so suspicious.”

Ace groaned, rubbing his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable,” Skylar countered without hesitation, leaning on the counter with that stupid little knowing look on his face.

Ace swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Stop saying things like that,” Ace muttered, finally setting Brownie down on the floor, as if that would somehow make the room less suffocating.

Skylar cocked his head. “Like what?”

Ace gritted his teeth. “Like that .”

Skylar blinked, then let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god . Is my best friend flustered ? Is that what’s happening right now?”

“I hate you.”

“You so don’t.”

Ace grabbed the nearest object—a throw pillow—and launched it at Skylar’s face. Skylar yelped, barely dodging, before cackling as he grabbed another pillow and swung it right back at Ace’s head.

For a moment, it was pure, childish chaos. Pillows were flying. Skylar was laughing so hard he almost tripped over Brownie (who had wisely fled to the safety of the couch). Ace tackled Skylar onto said couch, trapping him in a headlock.

“Okay, okay, I surrender !” Skylar wheezed through laughter, tapping out against Ace’s arm. “Jeez, so violent. You really are a dog person.”

Ace let him go, huffing as he sat back. “And you’re the damn cat.”

Skylar hummed, rubbing his sore neck with a smirk. “Can’t even be mad at that. Cats are adorable.”

Ace refused to respond to that.

Instead, he stretched out on the couch, throwing his legs over Skylar’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Skylar didn’t even bat an eye, just casually rested his arm on top of them like this was how they always sat.

(Which, to be fair, it kind of was.)

“So,” Ace sighed, tilting his head back against the couch. “Now that you’ve successfully forced a kitten into my life, what’s the next step in your master plan?”

Skylar snorted. “Oh, trust me, there’s no plan. This is a total ‘winging it’ situation.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Yeah, shocking .”

“But,” Skylar continued, nudging Ace’s knee, “since you asked, I was thinking about going out later. There’s this new café that opened up down the street, and guess what?”

“…What?”

“They have cat-shaped pastries.”

Ace stared at him. “That’s the dumbest reason to go to a café.”

Skylar pouted. “You say that, but I know you want to go.”

Ace sighed, rubbing his temples. “You do realize I just got back from classes, right? I’m tired .”

Skylar poked his cheek. “One coffee and you’ll be back to full power.”

Ace groaned. “Fine. But if I hate it, I’m making you pay for my suffering.”

Skylar grinned. “Deal.”

——

The café was exactly what Ace expected—small, cozy, and way too aesthetically pleasing. Soft indie music played in the background, and there were fairy lights strung across the ceiling, making the whole place feel like something straight out of a Pinterest board.

Skylar, of course, looked like he belonged here. He was already bouncing slightly on his heels as he scanned the pastry display, eyes practically sparkling when he spotted what he was looking for.

“Look!” he gasped, grabbing Ace’s sleeve and yanking him closer. “Cat macarons!”

Ace huffed a laugh. “You’re way too excited about this.”

Skylar turned to him with a serious expression. “You don’t understand, Ace. This is fate .”

“Oh my god .”

Despite his dramatic complaints, Ace let Skylar order a whole box of the stupid cat-shaped desserts. He even let Skylar steal one of his fries when they sat down. (Which was a huge sacrifice, considering Ace’s fries were sacred.)

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, the warmth of the café making Ace feel almost relaxed. But then, just as he was taking a sip of his drink, Skylar said something that nearly made him choke.

“You know, if we actually were parents, I think we’d be good at it.”

Ace coughed, nearly spilling his coffee. “ What ?”

Skylar just popped another macaron into his mouth like he didn’t just casually say the most insane thing ever. “I mean, think about it. We’re already co-parenting Brownie. And if you think about it even more , we’ve practically lived together since high school. It’s basically the same thing.”

Ace stared at him. “That is not the same thing.”

Skylar shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”

Ace shook his head, feeling his face heat up for what had to be the tenth time that day. Skylar was so damn casual about these things. The things that made Ace’s stomach flip. The things that made him overthink for hours later.

“Whatever,” Ace muttered, finishing off the last of his drink. “Let’s go before you buy out the whole damn pastry case.”

Skylar laughed, but he didn’t argue.

And as they walked back to the dorm, the city lights reflecting off the pavement, their shoulders bumped—once, twice, a little too deliberately. Neither of them said anything about it. Neither of them pulled away.

Ace thought, just for a second, that maybe, just maybe —

Skylar felt the same way, too.

Chapter Text

“Can you believe Christmas is coming up?” Skylar mused, rolling a ball of cookie dough between his palms, making sure each one was perfectly shaped.

It had been three months since they adopted Brownie, and the little kitten had comfortably taken over their lives. He had everything a spoiled cat could need—multiple beds (despite always sleeping in theirs), too many toys, and an attitude that suggested he knew he was the king of the apartment.

Skylar swore Brownie loved him more, though Ace liked to argue that Brownie was just humoring him. Either way, the small cat had become a fixture in their daily life, just like the unspoken fact that Skylar never actually moved out like he originally planned. At first, he had said he’d stay for a couple of weeks. Then a couple of months. Now, five months in, the thought of moving somewhere else never even crossed his mind anymore.

“Mm, and I still have no idea what to get you,” Ace murmured, focused on stirring a bowl of glossy chocolate icing. “You’ve always been impossible to shop for.”

Skylar scoffed. “That is the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I am so easy to shop for.”

“Yeah?” Ace arched an eyebrow.

“Yes. Just get me a stuffed animal, and I’ll be over the moon.” Skylar grinned, sounding completely serious.

Ace snorted. “The last thing you need is another stuffed animal.”

Skylar gasped dramatically. “Blasphemy. Mr. Augustyn needs more friends!”

Ace only rolled his eyes, dipping a finger into the icing he just finished mixing. Without thinking, he lifted his hand toward Skylar. “Here, try it.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips before he leaned in—way too slow, way too deliberate. Instead of just tasting the frosting like a normal person, he wrapped his lips around Ace’s finger, his tongue briefly flicking against his skin.

Ace’s brain malfunctioned.

His stomach flipped, and suddenly, his mind was racing into dangerous territory. He thought about how warm Skylar’s mouth was, how soft his lips felt, how different this situation could be if—fuck, never mind. Abort.

Skylar pulled back with an exaggerated pop of his lips, grinning wickedly. “Mmm. Not bad.”

Ace yanked his hand away like he’d been burned. “You’re the worst.”

Skylar cackled, grabbing another ball of dough and placing it onto the tray. “Oh, please. You love me.”

Ace didn’t respond. His heart was still hammering in his chest, and it was getting harder and harder to convince himself that the feeling wasn’t dangerous.

—

By the time the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen was a mess. There was flour on the counter, chocolate smears on Skylar’s cheek, and a suspicious amount of sugar dusting Ace’s pajama pants. Brownie was weaving between their legs, meowing like he wanted a share of the treats.

Ace leaned against the counter, watching as Skylar hummed some Christmas tune under his breath while washing his hands.

“You seem happy,” Ace noted, tilting his head.

Skylar dried his hands and turned to face him, looking amused. “Of course I’m happy. It’s Christmas season, we have cookies in the oven, and I have the best roommate ever.”

Ace rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop his lips from twitching into a smile. “Roommate, huh?”

Skylar shrugged, picking up Brownie and pressing a kiss to the kitten’s head. “What? You sick of me already?”

Ace opened his mouth to respond—but stopped. Because the truth was, no. He wasn’t sick of Skylar. Not even close. He liked waking up and seeing him every morning. He liked the way the dorm always felt warmer, more alive, when Skylar was around. He liked the stupid banter, the late-night conversations, the way Skylar stole his hoodies like they were his own.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Ace cleared his throat. “If I was sick of you, you’d know.”

Skylar grinned, and it was unfair how much that stupid grin made Ace’s heart stutter.

—

After the cookies were cooled and decorated, they both crashed onto the couch. The TV was playing some Christmas movie neither of them was really watching. Brownie had curled up on Skylar’s stomach, his tiny chest rising and falling with little sleepy purrs.

Ace was staring at the screen but wasn’t absorbing a single thing. His thoughts were too loud.

“Hey.”

Skylar’s voice broke through the haze in his head, and Ace turned his head slightly. “Hm?”

Skylar’s eyes were half-lidded, his voice softer than usual. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

Ace blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. “What? Of course.”

Skylar let out a slow breath. “I know I said I’d only be here for a little while, but…” He trailed off, chewing his lip. “I don’t really want to go.”

Ace’s throat felt weirdly tight. He forced himself to sound casual. “No one’s making you leave, Sky.”

Skylar’s eyes flickered to his, something unreadable in his expression. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. The movie played on, the only sound in the room being the occasional jingles from the Christmas commercial breaks.

Skylar’s voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke again.

“You’re impossible to shop for too, y’know.”

Ace huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not true.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, really? What do you want for Christmas, then?”

Ace hesitated. There was an answer that sat heavy in his chest, an answer he wasn’t ready to admit. Not yet. I want you for Christmas, idiot.

Instead, he smirked and leaned back against the couch. “A new best friend.”

Skylar let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like Ace had just stabbed him. “Wow. Rude.”

Ace grinned. “You asked.”

Skylar shoved him lightly, laughing, and Ace swore the sound was his new favorite Christmas song.

The quiet hum of the television played in the background, the glow of the screen flickering against the dimly lit apartment. Brownie was curled up in Skylar’s lap, his tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath. The warmth of his soft fur grounded Skylar, keeping him tethered to the present. But even with all the comfort surrounding him, his thoughts had drifted far, far away.

This—this sense of peace, of security—was something Skylar never thought he’d have. He had spent so long convinced that safety was an illusion, that love was conditional, that every good thing had an expiration date. But here he was, five months into living with Ace, and the world hadn’t crumbled.

If anything, the world had started to make sense again.

Ace had always been his anchor. Since they were five years old, stumbling through childhood, Ace had been there. Fourteen years of friendship, of late-night phone calls when home became unbearable, of whispered promises to always have each other’s backs. Fourteen years of knowing, deep down, that Ace was his home.

The weight of the past pressed against his ribs, memories flickering through his mind like an old, worn-out film reel.

Marianna.

Skylar swallowed hard, his fingers instinctively tightening in Brownie’s fur.

She had torn him apart, piece by piece, until he barely recognized himself. The words she used, the way she looked at him like he was something to be used and discarded—it had taken a toll. And the worst part? He had let it happen.

Because part of him believed he deserved it.

But not anymore.

Skylar wasn’t that person anymore. He had Ace, and that meant he had a reason to move forward. A reason to believe in something better. Ace had always been his reason.

And now, he was finally starting to understand why.

The feelings he had pushed down for so long, the emotions he tried to rationalize, were no longer deniable. His heart had already made its decision long before his brain could catch up.

I love him.

The realization settled in his chest like an exhale he’d been holding for years.

And yet, he knew he couldn’t say it. Not yet. Not when the thought of love still terrified him, not when his father’s voice still lingered in the back of his mind, whispering cruel, unforgiving things.

Skylar’s father had always made it clear—love was a weakness. Especially homosexuality. And Skylar? He was a disappointment from the moment he took his first breath. His mother’s death had been branded as his fault, and for years, he believed it.

If he hadn’t been born, she would still be alive.

It was Ace who had helped him untangle that lie, who had told him—over and over—that it wasn’t his fault. That he was wanted, that he deserved to be here.

Ace had saved him in more ways than one.

And Skylar would never, ever let him know just how deeply that truth ran.

A voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.

"Skylar, you home?"

Skylar blinked, snapping out of his daze to find Ace watching him, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned.

God, he was beautiful. His dark hair was tousled from where he had been resting against the couch cushions, his warm blue eyes holding a softness that made Skylar feel like he was the most important thing in the world.

He never wanted to look away.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Skylar murmured, shifting slightly. “I zoned out. There’s just… a lot on my mind all the time. My thoughts are so messy and unorganized.”

Ace hummed, tilting his head. “Oh? Want to talk about it? I’m always here to listen, you know…”

Skylar hesitated.

Talking had never been easy. Letting someone in had never been easy. But if there was anyone he could trust, anyone who deserved to know even a fraction of what went on in his mind, it was Ace.

He glanced down at Brownie, watching the slow rise and fall of his tiny body before exhaling softly.

“You ever feel like… you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?” he started, voice quiet.

Ace’s expression shifted, the light teasing from earlier fading into something more serious. He nodded. “Yeah.”

Skylar swallowed. “That’s how I feel all the time. Like… things are good right now. Too good. And my brain keeps telling me that means something bad is coming. Because that’s how it’s always been.”

Ace didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t rush to fill the silence with meaningless reassurances, didn’t tell Skylar he was being ridiculous. He just… let him talk.

Skylar appreciated that more than he could put into words.

“I think,” Skylar continued, running a hand through his hair, “that I don’t really know how to be happy without waiting for it to get ripped away from me.”

Ace’s brows furrowed slightly, and then, without hesitation, he reached over and grabbed Skylar’s wrist, his thumb brushing against his pulse point. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up Skylar’s spine.

“I get it,” Ace said, voice steady. “I really do. But, Sky? Not everything is gonna disappear on you. Not everything is gonna hurt you.”

Skylar wanted to believe that. He really did.

But the fear of losing this—of losing Ace—was too deep, too ingrained.

So instead of responding, he let himself lean into the touch, just a little. Just enough to remind himself that, right now, Ace was here. That was all that mattered.

Ace didn’t pull away.

Neither did Skylar.

—

The conversation stayed with them, lingering in the air even as they moved on to other things. The hours passed, the TV droning on with Christmas movies they weren’t watching.

Eventually, Ace got up to grab a drink from the kitchen, and Skylar took the opportunity to stretch out across the couch, arms above his head, shirt riding up slightly.

Ace returned, sipping his water, and froze mid-step. His eyes flickered to the sliver of exposed skin, just for a second, before he cleared his throat and looked away.

Skylar smirked. “See something you like?”

Ace scoffed, tossing a pillow at him. “Put your damn shirt down.”

“Make me,” Skylar shot back, wiggling his eyebrows.

Ace groaned. “You are so annoying.”

“You love me.”

Ace didn’t respond right away.

Skylar felt his heart skip a beat.

Then, Ace rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

“We should put up the Christmas tree tomorrow. What do you think?” Ace asked as he dropped onto the couch with a soft groan, stretching his legs out. He let his head fall back against the cushions, exhaustion evident in the way his body melted into the furniture.

Skylar, curled up on the opposite side of the couch with Brownie purring against his chest, glanced over. “Sounds good to me, but—”

Ace immediately cut him off, already knowing what was coming. “I know, I know. Let you do all the hard stuff.” He smirked, tossing a lazy glance in Skylar’s direction.

Skylar scoffed, dramatically rolling his eyes. “As you should.”

Ace chuckled, shaking his head. “You love bossing me around, don’t you?”

Skylar gasped, feigning offense. “Who, me? Never. I’m just better at decorating. You’d probably put the ornaments all on one side of the tree and call it a day.”

“Hey, I have some sense of symmetry,” Ace argued, though they both knew that was a lie. The last time they decorated anything together, Ace had gotten bored halfway through and started chucking tinsel at Skylar instead of helping.

Skylar simply raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh yeah? And what happened last year?”

Ace groaned, covering his face with his hands. “That was one time.”

“You dropped an entire box of glass ornaments. One time, my ass.”

Ace peeked at him through his fingers. “Okay, fine. Maybe I should just stick to handing you the decorations and looking pretty.”

Skylar hummed, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. “Well, you are good at looking pretty. Maybe I’ll allow it.”

Ace’s cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink, and he quickly turned his attention back to the TV, pretending to focus on whatever Christmas movie was playing. Skylar, of course, noticed. He noticed everything about Ace—how his ears always gave him away when he was flustered, how he rubbed the back of his neck when he was nervous, how he always smelled like something warm and familiar, like cinnamon and cedarwood.

He noticed too much.

And yet, he never let himself dwell on it for too long.

Not when things were good.

Not when they had built something so safe between them.

Ace, completely oblivious to the internal crisis Skylar was having, stretched his arms over his head and let out a deep sigh. “Okay, but seriously, if I’m not in charge of decorating, what am I in charge of?”

Skylar grinned, shifting slightly so Brownie could curl up on his lap. “You can be in charge of snacks.”

Ace narrowed his eyes. “So, what you’re saying is, I should just go buy a bunch of food and let you do all the work.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Skylar said, shooting him finger guns.

Ace laughed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

The room settled into a comfortable quiet after that, the kind that only existed between people who had known each other for years. The movie played on in the background, the soft glow of the Christmas lights strung around the living room area casting everything in warm hues of red and gold.

Skylar absentmindedly ran his fingers through Brownie’s fur, the rhythm of it soothing. He wasn’t sure when this had started feeling like home, but it did. It really, really did.

“Hey, Sky?”

Skylar turned his head slightly, meeting Ace’s gaze.

“Yeah?”

Ace hesitated for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Are you happy?”

The question caught Skylar off guard.

Happy?

Happiness had always been such an abstract concept for him. Something he watched from a distance, something other people had but never quite belonged to him. But now…

Now, he had Brownie purring in his lap. He had the smell of cinnamon in the air, the promise of decorating a Christmas tree tomorrow, the warmth of his best friend sitting just a few inches away.

Skylar took a slow breath, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice softer than usual. “I think I am.”

Ace didn’t say anything right away, but his expression relaxed into something fond, something content. “Good.”

Skylar didn’t push for an explanation. He didn’t need one.

Instead, he let himself enjoy the moment, sinking further into the couch as Brownie let out a little sigh in his sleep.

Ace yawned, stretching out his body. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day of me watching you do all the work.”

Skylar chuckled. “Damn right.”

Yeah.

Skylar was happy.

Chapter Text

“Skylar, watch out! That’s heavy,” Ace gasped, immediately rushing forward as his best friend struggled through the doorway with a massive box in his arms—the one holding their Christmas tree.

Skylar merely scoffed, adjusting his grip as he carried it inside like it was no big deal. “I don’t need help, dumbass. I can carry it on my own.”

Ace froze mid-step, standing like a deer caught in headlights. How the hell was someone as lanky as Skylar carrying that thing like it was nothing? Ace remembered struggling with it last year, nearly toppling over in the process.

“You gonna stay looking like you just saw a ghost, or are you actually going to help me set this up?” Skylar teased, his head tilting slightly as he shot Ace a playful grin. With a groan, he dropped the box onto the floor, rolling his shoulders back as if shaking off the weight. It was heavy—but apparently, Skylar had more strength in him than Ace gave him credit for.

Ace shook himself out of his daze. “Right. Sorry!” He quickly moved to Skylar’s side, lifting the box’s flaps to reveal the artificial tree’s many pieces.

They had already decided on the perfect spot—right in front of the window, where the soft glow of the tree lights would be visible from outside. Skylar had insisted on that detail. He wanted to “show off his masterpiece.” Ace had only rolled his eyes at the time, but secretly, he thought it was cute how much Skylar cared about decorating.

Piece by piece, they assembled the tree, the process feeling smoother than it had in years past. Maybe it was because they had done this so many times together, or maybe it was because they had settled into this easy rhythm of just being with each other.

Meanwhile, Brownie was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, his tiny body tucked into himself like a warm little cinnamon roll. It made Skylar’s heart melt. Brownie reminded him of himself sometimes—always seeking warmth, always finding comfort in small spaces.

Skylar dusted off his hands, stepping back to admire their handiwork. The tree stood tall in its designated corner, albeit looking a little sad without the ornaments. “Should I trust you to go grab the decorations, or do I have to do it myself?” he asked, smirking at Ace with a playful gleam in his eye.

Ace groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “After last year? I don’t even trust myself with that.”

Skylar laughed, crossing his arms. “To be fair, it was hilarious watching you panic while stepping on broken glass ornaments.”

“Yeah, so hilarious,” Ace drawled sarcastically. “Still got the tiny scar on my foot to prove it.”

“You should’ve worn socks.”

“Shut up.”

Skylar only grinned wider, clearly enjoying the teasing.

Ace rolled his eyes and turned toward the coat rack. “Anyway, I think I’ll leave the decorating to you. I’m gonna head out and grab some snacks, okay?” He swiped a jacket from the back of the sofa—the same one he had been too lazy to put away last time.

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “You’re just using snacks as an excuse to escape doing actual work, aren’t you?”

Ace pointed at him with a finger gun. “You know me too well.”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Fine, but get the good snacks. If you come back with boring shit like plain potato chips, I will be upset.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Ace called over his shoulder as he slipped on his shoes. “I’ll be back in a bit. Try not to get tangled in tinsel while I’m gone.”

“No promises.”

Once Ace was gone, the apartment fell into a comfortable quiet.

Skylar turned his attention to the box of ornaments, pulling out the neatly packed baubles and tinsel. He had been looking forward to this—the slow process of making the tree beautiful, the warm nostalgia of old ornaments that held years of memories between them.

As he started placing ornaments on the branches, his thoughts wandered.

Five months.

It had been five months since he moved in with Ace.

What was supposed to be a temporary arrangement had somehow turned into this . Domestic. Familiar. Comforting in a way Skylar never thought he’d experience.

He thought about how reluctant he had been in the beginning, how he had told himself he’d stay only for a couple of weeks before finding his own place.

But now?

Now, he couldn’t even imagine leaving.

Ace had become home .

It was dangerous, the way Skylar had allowed himself to sink so deeply into this life. It was dangerous, the way Ace had unknowingly broken down every last wall Skylar had spent years building.

He thought about the way Ace looked at him sometimes—like he was the most important person in the world.

He thought about how, when Ace laughed, it made Skylar’s chest feel light in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He thought about the quiet moments, the ones that meant nothing and everything at the same time.

And, worst of all, he thought about the undeniable truth he had been running from for months now.

I love him.

The realization hit him all over again, like a tidal wave crashing against a shore.

It wasn’t just friendship.

It wasn’t just deep platonic affection.

It was love . Real, honest-to-God love .

Skylar exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against a glass ornament as if grounding himself. Breathe.

He couldn’t tell him.

He wouldn’t tell him.

The risk was too high.

The thought of ruining what they had was enough to keep him silent.

Besides, things were good right now. Why mess with that?

Lost in thought, Skylar didn’t hear the front door open.

He didn’t hear Ace walk in.

He didn’t even notice him standing there until—

“You okay?”

Skylar jumped slightly, turning to find Ace watching him from the doorway, grocery bag in hand.

“Oh—yeah,” Skylar said quickly, recovering. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Ace frowned slightly, his eyes scanning Skylar’s face as if searching for something. “You sure? You looked kinda lost in thought.”

Skylar forced a smirk. “Just thinking about how much of a mess you’re gonna make with those snacks.”

Ace narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but let it slide. “Right. Well, lucky for you, I got the good snacks.”

Skylar held out his hand expectantly. “Prove it.”

Ace grinned, tossing a bag of mini chocolate Santas at him. “Boom. Your favorite.”

Skylar caught it, rolling his eyes but secretly pleased. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll forgive you for ditching me with all the work.”

Ace plopped down onto the couch, pulling Brownie into his lap and ruffling his fur. “You done with the tree yet?”

Skylar huffed. “If you actually helped, it’d be done faster.”

Ace smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Skylar shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he picked up another ornament.

Maybe this was enough.

Maybe, even if he never told Ace how he truly felt, just having this was enough.

For now.

Little did Skylar know, Ace had picked up a little extra something while he was out.

The moment he had passed by that boutique on the way to the supermarket, his eyes had been drawn to a display case in the window. Nestled inside was a ring—silver, with delicate engravings on the band, and embedded with a few small, shimmering blue jewels.

Skylar’s favorite color.

Ace had barely hesitated before stepping into the shop and buying it.

It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was Skylar . Simple, beautiful, understated—but still something that caught the light in just the right way. Something special. Something Ace hoped Skylar would wear every day.

And if things went well, if Skylar felt the same way , then maybe—just maybe —it wouldn’t just be a Christmas present. Maybe it could mean something more .

Ace wasn’t sure when he had finally grown the courage to confess his feelings, but after months of dancing around them, of holding himself back, he decided he was ready. And what better time to do it than on Skylar’s favorite holiday?

The ring was only part of the plan. Ace had it all figured out. He was going to get Skylar a stuffed animal, just like he had asked for, and a handmade card—because Skylar loved cheesy sentimental things, even if he tried to act like he didn’t.

Ace had never been so nervous about giving someone a gift before.

But, for now, he had to act normal.

—

“The tree’s looking good so far, Sky,” Ace praised, stepping up behind his best friend, his arms slipping around Skylar’s waist as he pressed his forehead against his shoulder.

Skylar tensed instantly.

Ace felt the way his body went rigid, the sharp inhale he sucked in, but… he didn’t pull away.

Ace smirked against the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. Interesting.

“Don’t move,” he mumbled, tightening his hold slightly. “It’s freezing, and you’re so warm.”

His words came out muffled against Skylar’s sleeve, but he meant them. Skylar was warm—so much warmer than Ace, who had been outside not long ago. The heat of his body, combined with the soft scent of whatever detergent Skylar used, made Ace want to stay like this forever.

And, well—technically, the hoodie was Ace’s originally. But it had been stolen so many times that he just let Skylar have it. And now it smelled like him , rather than Ace.

Skylar cleared his throat, still frozen. “You’re being extra clingy today,” he muttered, his voice coming out quieter than usual.

Ace grinned. “You say that like I’m not always clingy.”

Skylar huffed out something between a laugh and a sigh. “…You have a point.”

But even though he rolled his eyes, he still didn’t push Ace off.

Ace smirked to himself. Oh, this is fun.

But before he could test his luck any further, Brownie, who had been snoozing peacefully on the couch, suddenly stretched out his tiny paws and let out the most dramatic yawn known to mankind.

Skylar immediately turned to look, his body shifting just enough to make Ace lose his grip.

Ace groaned. “Damn cat, ruining my moment—”

“What moment?” Skylar asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Ace blinked. Shit.

“Uh. You know. My moment of… warmth.”

Skylar didn’t look convinced.

Ace needed a distraction, fast .

So he did the only thing that made sense.

He reached into his grocery bag, pulled out a package of mini marshmallows, and shoved a handful into his mouth.

Skylar snorted. “You’re such a child.”

Ace spoke through his full mouth. “And yet you still put up with me.”

Skylar shook his head, fighting off a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now help me finish the tree, idiot.”

Ace saluted lazily before tossing himself onto the couch, much to Skylar’s exasperation. “Nope. You’re doing great on your own. I’ll just sit here and be moral support.”

Skylar glared at him. “That’s not how this works.”

Ace grinned. “It is if I say it is.”

Brownie, seemingly taking Ace’s side, curled up in his lap and let out a content purr.

Skylar sighed dramatically. “You are both useless .”

Ace only laughed, watching as Skylar—grumbling under his breath—went back to finishing the tree.

And for a little while, everything felt perfect.

—

Later that night, they sat on the couch together, the only source of light in the apartment coming from the Christmas tree and the dim glow of the kitchen lamp.

Skylar was curled up against the armrest, his head tilted slightly, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

Ace was next to him, tossing a marshmallow in the air and catching it in his mouth.

It was quiet. Comfortable. The kind of silence that only came with years of knowing someone inside and out.

Ace turned his head slightly, his gaze drifting toward Skylar.

He looked peaceful like this. His usual sarcastic, playful energy had settled into something softer. His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight behind his eyes—something Ace had learned to recognize.

Ace nudged him gently. “Hey. You good?”

Skylar blinked, as if pulled out of his thoughts. “Huh? Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Ace tilted his head. “About what?”

Skylar hesitated.

Then, finally, he sighed. “I dunno. Just… this. Us. Everything.”

Ace’s heart did a weird little flip.

Us?

He stayed quiet, giving Skylar the space to continue.

Skylar let out a slow breath. “I guess I never really thought I’d have something like this, y’know? A place that feels like home. A person that feels like home.”

Ace’s chest tightened.

“…But I have it now,” Skylar murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “And I don’t want to lose it.”

Ace swallowed hard.

He wasn’t sure what Skylar meant by that. If he was talking about them —about their friendship, about this weird, tangled mess of emotions between them.

But Ace did know one thing.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

And if he had any say in it, neither was Skylar.

So, instead of saying anything too serious—too heavy—Ace did what he did best.

He leaned over, nudging Skylar’s side with his elbow.

“Well, lucky for you, you’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning. “Forever. No take-backs.”

Skylar blinked.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

A small, soft, real smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I am.”

And as Ace sat there, watching the lights of the Christmas tree flicker against Skylar’s face, he knew—

This was home.

And soon, if everything went according to plan, Skylar would know just how much he meant to him.

Because on Christmas morning, Ace was finally going to tell him.

The night carried on in a haze of warmth and quiet conversation. The Christmas tree twinkled beside them, casting soft, multicolored light across the apartment. Brownie had sprawled out on Skylar’s lap at some point, his tiny paws twitching in his sleep. The marshmallows Ace had been devouring were now forgotten, the open bag abandoned on the coffee table.

Ace stretched, his body sinking further into the couch, and let out a deep sigh. “Man, I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable.”

Skylar, who had been absently running his fingers through Brownie’s fur, hummed in agreement. “Yeah. Feels nice.”

Ace glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Skylar wasn’t looking at him—his gaze was trained on the Christmas tree, expression distant. There was something about the way he looked just then—soft and open in a way Skylar usually wasn’t —that made Ace’s stomach twist.

He wanted to say something.

Something important .

But for once, words didn’t come so easily.

Instead, he reached over and plucked a marshmallow from the bag, flicking it straight at Skylar’s face.

Skylar startled, blinking in surprise before the marshmallow bounced harmlessly off his cheek.

“…Seriously?”

Ace grinned, shoving another one into his mouth. “You looked too lost in thought. Thought I’d bring you back to reality.”

Skylar gave him a look. Then, in one swift motion, he scooped up Brownie, set him on the floor, and lunged forward, tackling Ace.

Ace yelped, twisting beneath Skylar’s weight, laughing as Skylar shoved a handful of marshmallows into his face. “You absolute menace—”

Skylar smirked, pinning him down with one arm while grabbing more marshmallows with the other. “Oh? I thought you liked playing dumb games ?”

Ace struggled, but he was laughing too hard to put up a real fight.

Brownie, clearly unimpressed by the chaos, trotted toward the kitchen, tail flicking.

After a few more seconds of struggling, Ace gave up, going limp under Skylar. “Alright, alright, you win, damn it.”

Skylar sat back, looking smug. “Damn right, I do.”

Ace huffed, brushing some marshmallow dust from his shirt. But even as Skylar climbed off of him and settled back into his spot, Ace couldn’t shake the way his chest felt . Like something was sitting there, pressing down on him.

Because Skylar was so close . Because the way he smiled just then was unfair. Because the way he looked at Ace—playful, fond, soft —made Ace feel like he was seconds away from ruining everything and just telling him already .

But he couldn’t.

Not yet.

Christmas. Wait until Christmas.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Enough distractions. We should probably get some sleep.”

Skylar yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, yeah.”

Ace stood, offering a hand to pull Skylar up. Skylar took it without hesitation, their fingers briefly tightening around each other’s.

Ace ignored the way his pulse jumped .

—

That night, Ace lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The ring was tucked away in his dresser drawer, hidden beneath some old band t-shirts. Every time he thought about it, his chest felt too tight, his brain buzzing with too many what-ifs .

What if Skylar didn’t want things to change?

What if he laughed it off, called it a joke?

What if Ace was reading into things all wrong ?

He groaned, dragging a pillow over his face.

Brownie, who had snuck onto his bed at some point, curled up on his stomach with a soft mrrp .

Ace sighed, lowering the pillow slightly. “You think he likes me back, little dude?”

Brownie purred, completely unbothered.

Ace snorted. “Not helpful.”

Still, he reached down, scratching behind the kitten’s ears. Brownie stretched contently, nuzzling into Ace’s hand.

“Guess I’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

He really, really hoped he didn’t mess this up.

—

December 24th

Christmas Eve arrived faster than Ace expected.

The apartment smelled like cinnamon and chocolate from the cookies they’d baked earlier that afternoon. (And by baked , Ace meant Skylar did all of the work while Ace ate cookie dough and provided commentary.)

They had spent most of the evening watching Christmas movies, curled up on the couch under a single blanket. Brownie had decided Ace’s lap was his throne for the night, while Skylar kept absently brushing his fingers against Ace’s wrist every time he reached for the popcorn.

Ace had tried not to think too much about that.

Now, as the night crept closer to midnight, Skylar was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, one of Ace’s old sweatshirts hanging off his frame.

Ace sat beside him, nudging his knee against Skylar’s.

“You excited?” Ace asked.

Skylar made a noise of amusement. “For what? Christmas?”

“Yeah.”

Skylar exhaled softly. “…Yeah. I think I am.”

Ace studied him for a moment.

Skylar’s fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. There was something about the way he looked just then—peaceful, but also… hesitant.

Ace hesitated. Then, without thinking too much about it, he reached out, resting a hand over Skylar’s.

Skylar stilled.

Ace swallowed. “Hey.”

Skylar turned to look at him, eyes wide.

Ace held his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything , right?”

Skylar opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

“…Yeah,” he murmured, voice quiet. “I know.”

Ace squeezed his hand once before pulling away.

They sat in silence for a while after that, just listening to the faint hum of Christmas music playing from Skylar’s phone.

Ace didn’t push him to say anything more.

And Skylar didn’t let go of Ace’s hand.

—

December 25th — Christmas Morning

Ace woke up to the smell of coffee and something sweet.

Blinking blearily, he pushed himself out of bed, rubbing at his eyes. When he stumbled into the kitchen, he found Skylar standing at the counter, pouring steaming mugs of coffee. A plate of cinnamon rolls sat nearby.

Skylar turned at the sound of Ace shuffling in, flashing a grin. “Merry Christmas, idiot.”

Ace yawned. “Mmm. Merry Christmas.”

Skylar handed him a mug, their fingers brushing briefly. Ace tried not to think about it too much .

After breakfast, they sat on the floor by the Christmas tree, exchanging gifts.

Skylar’s eyes lit up when he saw the stuffed animal Ace had picked out—a soft, floppy-eared puppy.

“No way ,” Skylar breathed, squeezing it against his chest.

Ace grinned. “I figured it could be Brownie’s new sibling.”

Skylar laughed, but his expression softened. “Thanks, Ace. Seriously.”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck, feeling weirdly nervous. “Yeah. Uh. That’s not the only thing, though.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow as Ace pulled out a small, wrapped box.

Ace held his breath as Skylar unwrapped it, his fingers going still the moment he saw what was inside.

The ring sat nestled in the velvet box, the light blue jewels catching the glow of the Christmas lights.

Skylar’s breath hitched.

Ace swallowed hard.

“…Ace.”

Ace forced himself to meet his gaze. “I—I don’t know what this means to you. But to me, it’s—” He exhaled. “It’s me saying I love you. And not just in a best friend way.”

Skylar’s lips parted, his expression unreadable.

Then—

He laughed .

A quiet, disbelieving sound, shaking his head.

“…You absolute idiot ,” he murmured.

Before Ace could panic, Skylar surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around him, pressing his forehead against Ace’s shoulder.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Ace’s heart nearly stopped .

Chapter Text

Ace’s arms instinctively tightened around Skylar, holding him close like he was something fragile, something precious. His heart pounded so violently against his ribs that he was sure Skylar could feel it.

He was terrified. Terrified that this was a dream, that he had finally crossed the line they could never go back from. But at the same time, he felt something else—something warmer, something right .

Skylar was here , in his arms, telling him what Ace had only ever allowed himself to hope for.

Still, the doubt gnawed at him.

“Are you serious?” Ace whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Are you just saying that because I put you on the spot?”

Skylar pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, and Ace felt his breath catch. His best friend’s light blue eyes shimmered in the glow of the Christmas tree, reflecting every ounce of sincerity that his words carried.

“I’ve never known what love felt like, Ace.” Skylar’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “I’ve read so much about it in books, tried to make sense of it through the way people talk about it, but it’s always been so confusing to me.” His fingers curled around the stuffed dog in his lap, holding it like it was a tether to reality.

Ace didn’t dare move.

Skylar took a breath. “But one thing I do know is that love is something you feel . It’s an unmistakable warmth, something you can’t just pretend isn’t there. I never really understood it until I realized that every time I looked at you… I felt it.”

Ace’s world tilted.

Skylar’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And I have for years .”

Ace exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he let out a breathless laugh, more out of disbelief than anything. “Jesus Christ, Sky.”

Skylar gave him a small, amused smile, but it didn’t hide the nervousness in his eyes.

Ace swallowed hard. His hands fidgeted with each other before he forced himself to face this —face him .

“I’ve been feeling that warmth for you since middle school,” he admitted. “I always knew I wasn’t like the other guys. I never had that kind of interest in girls, or anyone for that matter, because the only person I’ve ever felt this way about is you .” He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle. “It was always you .”

Skylar’s lips parted, his breath hitching slightly. His fingers twitched against the plush of the stuffed dog before he whispered, “Ace, you’re the only person in my entire life who has ever truly loved me.” His voice wavered, but he didn’t falter. “You’re the only person I trust completely, the only person I’m not afraid to be around. I’ve opened up to you about everything . You know me, inside and out.” He exhaled slowly. “And the truth is, I want you to.”

Ace could feel his own eyes stinging. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head with a soft laugh, because of course Skylar would say something like that—something that would completely undo him.

He wiped a hand down his face before reaching over to grab the small velvet box from Skylar’s lap. “Alright, hold on,” he muttered, chuckling lightly as he flipped it open again. “I kinda fumbled that earlier—I got nervous.”

Skylar laughed, a wet, genuine sound, but he stayed quiet as he watched Ace carefully pull the ring from its box.

Ace took Skylar’s hand in his own, his thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles. His fingers were bony, a little cold, but they still fit perfectly in his grasp. He admired them for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Skylar’s face. His eyes were so soft, so full of something Ace had always wanted to see but never let himself hope for.

Ace swallowed past the lump in his throat, his lips twitching into a nervous smile. “Skylar Borys Petrov,” he murmured, his voice shaking just a little. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

For a moment, Skylar didn’t say anything.

And then, he laughed .

Ace froze, his stomach plummeting .

Skylar immediately shook his head, clutching Ace’s hands before he could pull away. “ No—no, wait, ” he gasped between laughter, his cheeks dusted a light pink. “I swear I’m not laughing at you—fuck, I just—” He sucked in a breath, trying to compose himself.

Ace just stared at him, his heart caught somewhere between relief and sheer panic. “Uh, okay?”

Skylar exhaled, shaking his head with a sheepish grin. “I’m laughing because you’re such an idiot .” His voice was quiet, but fond.

Ace blinked. “...Excuse me?”

Skylar rolled his eyes before cupping Ace’s face in both hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. His smile softened. “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, dumbass.”

Ace let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, a giddy, disbelieving laugh bubbling out of him. “You—you mean that?”

Skylar smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You just gave me a ring and poured your heart out, and you still think I’d joke about this?”

Ace opened his mouth. Closed it. Then shook his head, laughing. “Fuck, okay. Good point.”

Skylar huffed playfully before grabbing Ace’s hand again. “Now, are you gonna put this on me, or what?”

Ace let out a soft, breathless laugh, his fingers trembling slightly as he carefully slid the ring onto Skylar’s finger. The blue gems shimmered under the twinkling Christmas lights, perfectly suited for him.

Skylar stared at it for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he flexed his fingers, testing how it felt on his hand.

Ace bit his lip. “Do you… like it?”

Skylar didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he grabbed Ace’s wrist and pulled him forward.

Before Ace could even react, Skylar was kissing him.

It was soft—hesitant, almost, like neither of them could quite believe it was happening. But then Skylar sighed against him, his fingers threading into Ace’s hair, and Ace melted .

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, his hands coming up to cup Skylar’s face.

The warmth between them was unlike anything Ace had ever known.

It was gentle. It was safe. It was everything .

When they finally broke apart, Skylar let out a soft, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against Ace’s. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I love it.”

Ace huffed out a shaky chuckle, his heart still hammering in his chest. “You better.”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but the way he smiled at Ace in that moment was something Ace knew he’d never forget.

The kind of smile that made him realize—

They had been each other’s all along.

The room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the occasional rustling of the Christmas tree as its ornaments swayed from the slight movements around them. The air was thick with warmth, not just from the heater, but from something deeper—something new and yet entirely familiar between them.

Ace and Skylar sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the tree, their hands still loosely intertwined, as if neither of them wanted to let go. Skylar was still staring at the ring on his finger, his thumb brushing over the cool metal every so often, as if he needed to remind himself it was real.

Ace watched him with a small, lopsided smile, his chest still feeling strangely light, almost as if he was floating. Skylar was his. His. And the best part? He had been Skylar’s all along.

The sound of soft paws against the hardwood broke the silence, followed by an exaggerated yawn.

Brownie stretched lazily, arching his back before trotting over to them, his fluffy tail flicking behind him. He barely spared Ace a glance before he jumped into Skylar’s lap, curling up as if he was the one who had just gone through an emotionally exhausting confession.

Skylar let out a soft chuckle, running his fingers through the cat’s fur. “Wow, thanks, buddy. No congratulations? No acknowledgment of the biggest moment of my life?”

Brownie only purred louder, pushing his head into Skylar’s stomach, completely unbothered.

Ace scoffed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. This little bastard still likes you more.”

Skylar smirked, scratching under Brownie’s chin. “Maybe because I don’t talk shit about him every time he ignores me.”

“I don’t talk shit ,” Ace argued, crossing his arms. “I simply observe the favoritism.”

“Mm-hm. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Ace rolled his eyes, but the fond smile never left his face. He reached over and absentmindedly stroked Brownie’s back, the warmth of the moment settling comfortably around them.

After a beat, Skylar shifted, nudging Ace’s knee with his own.

“So…” he started, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Now that I’ve been thoroughly spoiled, it’s your turn.”

Ace blinked, watching as Skylar leaned over to grab a neatly wrapped present from under the tree.

Skylar set it down in Ace’s lap, tapping the top of the box. “Merry Christmas, loser.”

Ace huffed out a laugh. “Wow, so romantic.”

Skylar grinned. “I try.”

Ace rolled his eyes playfully before looking down at the box. It was wrapped in dark red paper—his favorite color—and tied with a golden ribbon, the knot perfectly placed in the center. Ace ran his fingers over it, his chest tightening slightly.

Skylar had always been thoughtful when it came to gifts, but something about this one felt… different.

Special.

Ace glanced up at Skylar, who was watching him expectantly, his fingers still idly petting Brownie’s fur.

Taking a breath, Ace tugged at the ribbon, watching as it unraveled smoothly. He carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, as if he didn’t want to ruin it, before lifting the lid of the box.

And then—he froze .

Sitting inside was a soft, well-worn hoodie, one that Ace immediately recognized. It was his own. Or at least, it had been before he lost it years ago.

Ace’s mouth parted slightly, his fingers ghosting over the fabric. It was faded, the once-deep navy now slightly dulled, but it still looked… perfect .

“I—I thought I lost this,” Ace breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Skylar smiled, leaning forward slightly. “You did. But, uh… I kind of stole it.”

Ace looked up, eyebrows raised. “You what ?”

Skylar chuckled, looking slightly sheepish. “You left it at my place when we were, like, fourteen? And I was gonna give it back, but…” He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “It smelled like you. And it made me feel safe. So, I just… kept it.”

Ace’s heart squeezed .

Skylar rolled his eyes at himself, but his voice was softer when he continued. “I know it’s stupid, but I wore it whenever I felt like shit. And, well… considering how my life was going, that was kind of a lot .”

Ace swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the fabric. He could see it—Skylar curled up in this hoodie, finding comfort in something as simple as a piece of clothing that once belonged to Ace.

God. If he had known…

“I figured it’s only fair that you have it back now,” Skylar added, smiling slightly. “Since, y’know, you’re mine now.”

Ace let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus, Sky.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Ace didn’t answer. He just lunged , tackling Skylar onto the floor, causing Brownie to yowl in protest before scrambling away. Skylar barely had time to react before Ace was hovering over him, their faces inches apart, his expression somewhere between adoration and exasperation.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” Ace muttered.

Skylar smirked, unbothered. “I know.”

Ace huffed before closing the distance, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to Skylar’s lips. Skylar melted into it instantly, his hands gripping Ace’s hoodie before pulling him impossibly closer.

When they finally pulled apart, Ace rested his forehead against Skylar’s, exhaling softly. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Skylar’s fingers traced absent circles against Ace’s back. “For what?”

Ace let out a small, disbelieving laugh, his eyes shining. “For everything.”

Skylar’s breath hitched slightly before he pulled Ace down into another kiss, slow and deep, like he wanted to make sure Ace felt everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

Ace shifted their positions fluidly, rolling them over until his larger frame rested comfortably on top of Skylar, his arms bracing against the floor on either side of his best friend’s head. Their bodies fit together so perfectly, as if they were always meant to be this close.

The kiss didn’t break—except for a fleeting second when they both needed air—but even then, their lips remained a breath apart, noses brushing, hearts pounding.

“Merry Christmas, Skylar,” Ace whispered, his lips still ghosting over Skylar’s softer ones. His voice was low, almost shaky, as if saying it out loud made everything feel too real, too intense.

Skylar let out a soft hum, his fingers curling into Ace’s hair, tugging him back down. “Merry Christmas, Ace,” he murmured against his lips, and then—

The kiss deepened, slow but desperate, as if years of pent-up emotions were spilling over all at once. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic—it was warm, consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt.

Ace had dreamed about this for longer than he was willing to admit. And God , it was better than anything his imagination had conjured up.

Skylar’s lips were softer than he expected, slightly chapped from the winter air, but still impossibly inviting. His touch, usually teasing and playful, was now deliberate, fingers threading through Ace’s hair like he never wanted to let go.

And Ace? He was completely, utterly gone .

His hands roamed without thinking, memorizing the way Skylar’s body felt beneath him, the way he responded to every subtle shift, every lingering brush of their lips.

At some point, Skylar’s cooler hands slipped beneath Ace’s hoodie, fingertips ghosting over the bare skin of his lower back, sending shivers down his spine.

Ace groaned against his lips, breaking away just long enough to whisper, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Skylar grinned, his breath coming out in short, quiet pants. “I think I do,” he teased, dragging his nails lightly against Ace’s skin, reveling in the way it made him shudder.

Ace was about to retaliate—maybe pin Skylar’s wrists above his head, see how much teasing he could take before he crumbled—but a sudden thump from the kitchen made them both freeze.

Their eyes snapped open, chests rising and falling in sync.

“…What the hell was that?” Ace muttered, his voice still slightly breathless.

Skylar sighed dramatically, letting his head fall back against the carpet. “I bet you anything it was Brownie knocking something over.”

Ace groaned, reluctantly rolling off Skylar. “That little bastard has the worst timing.”

Skylar smirked, sitting up and ruffling his hair. “You jealous he stole my attention?”

Ace scoffed. “I don’t need to be jealous. I own your attention now.”

Skylar huffed out a laugh but didn’t deny it. Instead, he pushed himself up and stretched, his hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his stomach.

Ace’s eyes definitely flickered down before he caught himself.

“Come on,” Skylar said, holding out a hand. “Let’s go see what our son destroyed this time.”

Ace groaned dramatically but took his hand anyway, letting Skylar pull him up.

They walked into the kitchen, still a little dazed from the heat of their kiss, only to find Brownie comfortably curled up inside the sink, completely unfazed by the mess he had created.

A small potted plant—one of Skylar’s very few attempts at decorating—lay on its side on the counter, dirt scattered everywhere.

Skylar let out a suffering sigh. “Dude. Really?”

Brownie blinked up at him lazily, then yawned, stretching his paws out before tucking them under his chin.

Ace snorted. “You’re so cleaning that up.”

Skylar shot him a look. “You live here, too.”

“Yeah, but he’s your favorite.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but grabbed some paper towels anyway, cleaning up the mess while Ace leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile.

After a minute, Ace nudged Skylar’s side. “Hey.”

Skylar glanced up. “What?”

Ace hesitated for a moment before nodding toward the living room. “Let’s go sit by the tree again. I just wanna… I dunno. Sit with you for a while.”

Skylar blinked, taken aback by the soft sincerity in Ace’s voice. But he nodded, tossing the paper towels in the trash before following him back into the living room.

They sat down in front of the Christmas tree again, the colorful lights casting a warm glow over their faces. Brownie, ever the little king, pranced over and curled up on Skylar’s lap once more.

Ace sighed contently, leaning his head against Skylar’s shoulder. “This is nice,” he murmured.

Skylar hummed in agreement, absentmindedly running his fingers through Ace’s hair.

They sat like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable, peaceful.

Then, after a few moments, Skylar spoke. “Ace?”

“Mm?”

“I… I’ve never had a Christmas that felt like this before.”

Ace lifted his head slightly to look at him. “Like what?”

Skylar hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the tree. “…Like it actually means something.”

Ace’s heart ached at that.

He had always known that Skylar’s past wasn’t easy—that holidays were probably just another reminder of everything he had lost. But hearing him say it out loud made Ace want to hold him even tighter.

“Well,” Ace said softly, reaching for Skylar’s hand. He intertwined their fingers, giving a small squeeze. “Then we’ll just have to make sure every Christmas from now on feels like this.”

Skylar exhaled a small, shaky breath, but when he turned back to Ace, his smile was genuine.

“…Yeah. I’d like that.”

Ace smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Skylar’s forehead.

They still had so much to figure out—so many new things to navigate now that their relationship had shifted. But for now, this moment, in the glow of the Christmas tree, with the warmth of each other’s presence and the quiet hum of love between them…

It was enough .

Skylar found himself completely lost in Ace’s gaze, the world around them fading into the soft hum of Christmas lights and the gentle warmth of their intertwined hands. The silence between them wasn’t the suffocating kind, not the kind that demanded to be filled with empty words. It was comfortable —like home.

For once, Skylar felt full —not of unspoken words, not of secrets clawing at his throat, but of transparency . He wasn’t hiding anymore. He wasn’t running. He had Ace. And for the first time in his life, that was enough .

They were together now—officially. The thought alone sent warmth blooming in his chest, a quiet reassurance that life, for once, was heading in the right direction.

But reality had a cruel way of reminding him that peace never lasted long.

The sharp buzz of his phone shattered the quiet. Skylar blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as he reached into his pocket. He didn’t think much of it at first, scrolling through his notifications with the absentminded ease of someone used to pointless messages.

But the moment his eyes landed on the contact name, his breath hitched.

The color drained from his face. His stomach twisted violently.

No.

Ace noticed immediately. “Woah, Sky, who is it?” His voice was gentle but concerned, his brows knitting together as he studied Skylar’s sudden shift in demeanor.

Skylar swallowed thickly, his fingers tightening around his phone. His mind screamed at him to ignore it, to pretend he hadn’t seen it, to push it down like he had for years.

But his lips moved before he could stop them.

“…My dad.”

Ace stiffened. His entire body tensed, the warmth in his eyes darkening into something else entirely. Protective. Angry. Wary.

Neither of them moved for a moment.

Then Ace sat up, his posture going rigid. “What does he want?” His voice was sharp, but controlled, the way it always was whenever Skylar’s father was mentioned.

Skylar didn’t answer immediately. His fingers hovered over the screen, hesitant, afraid of what he might see. But he forced himself to look.

His father’s name glared back at him in bold letters, accompanied by a text message he almost wished he hadn’t read.

“Merry Christmas, son. We need to talk, Daddy misses you. Come home, let’s be real adults.”

Skylar’s throat tightened. His grip on the phone turned white-knuckled.

Ace leaned over, eyes scanning the screen. The moment he read the words, his entire expression hardened, jaw clenching so tightly Skylar thought he might break a tooth.

“No,” Ace said immediately, his voice unwavering. “You’re not going back there.”

Skylar exhaled a shaky breath, forcing himself to sit upright. “I know that, Ace.” His voice was quieter now, but there was a waver to it, something uncertain. Something scared.

Ace reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Then block his number.”

Skylar hesitated. “It won’t stop him.”

Ace’s grip tightened. “I don’t care. Do it anyway.”

Skylar swallowed, staring at the screen as his thumb hovered over the ‘Block Contact’ button. It should’ve been easy. It should’ve been a no-brainer.

But his father wasn’t the kind of man who disappeared just because you ignored him.

Ace seemed to read the hesitation in his eyes, because his voice softened. “Sky… you don’t owe him anything.”

Skylar forced out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, tell him that .”

Ace’s expression darkened. “Maybe I will .”

Skylar glanced at him sharply. “No, Ace. You don’t get involved in this.”

Ace let out a humorless chuckle. “Sky, I’ve been involved in this since we were kids. I watched him hurt you. I watched him break you down over and over, and I kept my mouth shut because you asked me to.” He turned to face Skylar fully, his grip on his hand never wavering. “But I’m not a kid anymore. I’m not letting him near you again.”

Skylar’s chest tightened at the sheer conviction in Ace’s voice.

For a second, he almost believed they were untouchable.

But deep down, he knew better.

His father wasn’t the type to make empty threats.

And something told Skylar this wasn’t going to be the last message.

The phone buzzed again.

Another text.

“I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Chapter Text

"Shit, shit, shit, shit."

Skylar’s voice trembled as he paced the length of the small living room, his breath coming in uneven gasps. The warmth of Christmas—the twinkling lights, the scent of pine, the lingering sweetness of hot chocolate—felt like a distant memory now. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Ace stood firm, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Skylar, give me your phone.” His voice was sharp, urgent, but laced with something softer underneath. Concern. Protection. Desperation.

Skylar barely registered his words. His grip on his phone remained iron-tight, his knuckles pale from the pressure. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

See you soon.

The words felt like a noose around his neck.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Skylar muttered, his voice distant, like he wasn’t even talking to Ace but rather to the ghosts of his past. “Why now? Why does he always have to ruin everything?” His steps quickened, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “He hasn’t reached out in years . I thought he moved on! I thought—” His voice cracked. “Why? Why now?”

Ace stepped forward, placing himself in Skylar’s path before he could take another frantic step. “Skylar.” His voice was steadier this time, firmer. “Christmas isn’t ruined. He doesn’t get to ruin it.”

Skylar looked at him, but it was like he wasn’t really seeing him. His thoughts were spiraling too fast, dragging him back into places he swore he’d never revisit.

Brownie meowed from the floor, his tiny paws patting at Skylar’s legs, his tail flicking with concern. The little cat could sense the shift in the air, the tension, the fear. But Skylar was too lost to notice.

Ace sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before reaching out again. “Give me your phone,” he said, softer this time. “Please.”

Skylar didn’t move.

Ace took a deep breath, trying to keep himself grounded. He wanted to fix this—wanted to erase the fear in Skylar’s eyes, to keep his boyfriend safe from the demons clawing at him. But this wasn’t something he could just punch his way through.

So he softened.

Stepping closer, he reached out and gently rested his hands on Skylar’s wrists. “I know you’re scared,” Ace murmured. “I know this feels like the end of the world right now. But listen to me, Sky.” He squeezed lightly, grounding him. “You’re not alone in this. You have me. And I swear on everything I have, I won’t let him hurt you.”

Skylar swallowed thickly, his breath still shaky, but his eyes flickered with something—some tiny hint of recognition that Ace’s words were reaching him.

Ace exhaled slowly, relieved that he was at least getting somewhere. “Just let me block the number. That’s step one. We’ll deal with the rest together, alright?”

Skylar hesitated. His fingers twitched, his body caught between wanting to hold on and wanting to let go.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, he loosened his grip and placed the phone in Ace’s waiting hand.

Ace wasted no time. His fingers moved quickly over the screen, pulling up the message, going straight to the contact settings. His thumb hovered over the ‘Block’ button, but before pressing it, he glanced up at Skylar. “Once I do this, he can’t call you. Can’t text you.”

Skylar nodded slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do it.”

Ace pressed the button without hesitation.

Blocked.

The weight in the room didn’t immediately lift, but at least it wasn’t suffocating anymore.

Ace set the phone down on the coffee table and turned back to Skylar, reaching for his hand. “Come here.”

Skylar let himself be pulled into Ace’s arms, his forehead resting against Ace’s shoulder. His breath was still uneven, his hands still trembling slightly, but he felt safer. Grounded.

Ace ran his fingers through Skylar’s hair, holding him close. “You don’t need him, Sky. You never did.”

Skylar squeezed his eyes shut, his throat tightening. “I just... I don’t want him in my life, Ace. I don’t want to deal with this anymore.”

“You won’t have to.” Ace’s voice was full of certainty. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Skylar wanted to believe that. He needed to believe that.

But in the back of his mind, he knew his father wasn’t the type to just disappear .

And that terrified him more than anything.

Ace could still feel the tension clinging to Skylar like a second skin, but he wasn’t going to let it take over. Not tonight. Not when they finally had something good, something worth celebrating.

“Look on the bright side,” Ace murmured, tilting Skylar’s chin up so their eyes met. “We’re together now, Sky. I’m your boyfriend. It’s Christmas. You can’t let that shit ruin this for you. I won’t let it.”

Skylar’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Ace smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth—then another, and another, until he was peppering Skylar’s entire face with soft, fleeting kisses. His cheeks, his nose, his forehead. Each kiss was gentle, warm, meant to erase the lingering fear.

Skylar finally exhaled, his hands tightening around Ace’s hoodie.

“Come on,” Ace said, his voice full of a kind of playful determination. “Let’s spend today being happy. Celebrate us finally dating.” He pulled away just enough to take Skylar’s hands in his own, his grip firm, grounding. “I mean, you do realize that today is technically our first Christmas as a couple, right?”

Skylar blinked, the words settling over him like warm snowfall. He hadn’t even thought about that. His first Christmas with Ace as his boyfriend . His lips twitched into a small, hesitant smile.

Ace took one of Skylar’s hands and ran his thumb over the cool metal of the ring he’d just slipped onto his finger. “Every time you feel overwhelmed or nervous, I want you to fidget with this,” he murmured. “It’s my confession of love. A piece of me that you’ll always carry with you, starting today.”

Skylar’s throat tightened.

The weight of everything—the text, the past, the creeping fear—was still there, lingering in the corners of his mind. But Ace’s words… his touch, his presence… made it all feel manageable . He let out a slow breath, letting the comfort settle into his bones.

The Christmas tree twinkled beside them, the soft glow reflecting off the ornaments, casting a warmth over the room. The scent of cinnamon and pine filled the air again, the weight on Skylar’s chest lifting just slightly.

He was safe.

He was loved .

And he wasn’t alone.

“How about instead of a fancy Christmas dinner,” Skylar suggested, his voice lighter now, “we gorge ourselves on candy and make some gingerbread cookies? We can make little versions of each other.” His gaze flickered toward the stuffed puppy that Ace had gifted him, a quiet laugh slipping from his lips.

Ace’s face lit up. “Oh, hell yes. And you know I’m going to make yours stupidly handsome.”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but the fondness was unmistakable. “And I’m going to give yours a dumb little smirk, just like you always have.”

Ace gasped dramatically. “Disrespectful. But fine, I accept the challenge.”

Skylar finally, finally let out a real laugh, the sound making Ace’s heart feel like it might actually burst.

This. This was what Skylar deserved.

Not fear. Not panic. Not the shadow of his father looming over his happiness.

Just this. Just them .

By the time they got to the kitchen, Brownie had finally decided to leave his perch on the counter, tail flicking as he followed them like a tiny shadow. Ace scooped him up as they started gathering ingredients, holding the sleepy cat against his chest.

“Think Brownie wants a cookie too?” Ace mused, scratching behind Brownie’s ears.

“Brownie is a cat,” Skylar deadpanned, pulling out the flour. “He does not want a cookie.”

Ace huffed. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

Skylar smirked but didn’t argue, instead focusing on setting everything up. The kitchen was small but cozy, and the soft holiday music playing in the background made it even better.

As they mixed the dough, Ace—being Ace—found every opportunity to be annoying.

“Sky, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Skylar raised an eyebrow, wooden spoon in hand.

“You have to feel the dough. Connect with it on a spiritual level.” Ace made an exaggerated motion of rolling up his sleeves, pressing his hands into the dough with far too much enthusiasm. “See? This is art.”

Skylar gave him a look . “That is a mess .”

Sure enough, there was flour everywhere . On the counter. On Ace’s hoodie. On Brownie , who had somehow managed to get a dusting of white across his tail.

Ace grinned unapologetically. “Oops.”

Skylar shook his head, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me.”

Skylar faltered for half a second before looking back at the dough. “Yeah,” he admitted softly. “I do.”

Ace froze.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know Skylar felt the same—he did —but hearing it so casually, so effortlessly, made something in his chest tighten.

Before Skylar could process what he just said, Ace reached over and smeared flour across his cheek.

“Hey!” Skylar snapped back to reality, glaring at him.

“You’re so cute,” Ace teased, dodging Skylar’s attempt to retaliate.

Brownie, clearly unimpressed with their antics, let out a small huff before hopping onto the nearest chair, curling up and ignoring them entirely.

The cookies were… well.

Let’s just say neither of them were quitting their day jobs.

Skylar held up his finished gingerbread cookie—an attempted replica of Ace. It had messy frosting hair, a half-smirking expression, and a tiny, blue candy heart on its chest.

Ace loved it.

“This is literally the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, holding it up dramatically. “I want it framed. I want to be buried with this cookie.”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched up in amusement. “You’re not even going to eat it?”

“Absolutely not. I need to preserve your craftsmanship.”

Skylar snorted. “It’s a cookie, Ace.”

“It’s a masterpiece .”

Ace, meanwhile, had made a gingerbread version of Skylar, which—while slightly more detailed—had one very specific addition.

“Why does mine have cat ears?” Skylar asked, staring at it.

Ace grinned. “Because you have the same energy as Brownie.”

Skylar groaned. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

Skylar shook his head with a sigh, but his face was warm, his heart lighter than it had been all night.

Ace leaned over, kissing the side of his head. “Merry Christmas, Sky.”

Skylar closed his eyes for a second, letting himself breathe, letting himself feel this moment. The warmth. The comfort. The love.

“Merry Christmas, Ace.”

For the first time in years, Christmas felt right .

Skylar sighed as he glanced around the kitchen, hands on his hips. The counter was covered in flour, stray bits of frosting had somehow ended up on the fridge handle, and Ace’s idea of “helping” had resulted in more of a mess than anything productive.

“You look like you’re about to lecture me,” Ace teased, popping a candy into his mouth as he leaned against the counter.

“I should lecture you,” Skylar muttered, grabbing a dishcloth and wiping down the counter. “But I won’t. Because it’s Christmas. Consider it my gift to you.”

Ace grinned. “Wow. Generous.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but said nothing, instead gathering the two gingerbread cookies they’d made of each other. He eyed the cookie version of Ace for a moment before, without hesitation, biting off its head.

Ace gasped dramatically. “Skylar!”

“What?” Skylar chewed, completely unfazed. “Tasted good.”

“That was me!”

Skylar swallowed, raising an eyebrow. “And?”

Ace pointed at the Skylar cookie. “If you think for one second that I’m not eating yours out of pure revenge—”

“Oh, shut up and help me clean,” Skylar cut in, shoving the dishcloth into Ace’s chest.

Ace huffed but obeyed, the two of them working together to put the kitchen back in order. Brownie supervised from the chair, his tail flicking lazily as he watched them move around. It took about fifteen minutes to get everything spotless again, and by the time they were done, Skylar felt a little more relaxed.

He let out a breath, brushing his hands off on his hoodie. “Alright. Kitchen’s good.”

Ace stretched his arms over his head. “That was exhausting. Relax time?”

Skylar nodded, grateful for the idea. The day had been eventful, to say the least, and the thought of just lounging on the couch for a while sounded perfect.

Ace grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the living room.

The Christmas tree lights twinkled warmly, casting a soft glow throughout the room. The sun had begun to set, the sky outside turning shades of orange and pink. The air smelled of cinnamon, vanilla, and faint traces of gingerbread.

Skylar sat down first, sinking into the couch with a content sigh. Ace followed suit, flopping down beside him and immediately throwing an arm over Skylar’s shoulders.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

They just existed—basking in the warmth of each other’s presence, the quiet hum of Christmas music playing softly in the background.

Ace’s fingers brushed absentmindedly over Skylar’s arm, tracing little patterns against the scars that decorated the otherwise untouched skin. The casual intimacy of it sent a pleasant warmth through Skylar’s chest.

Then, without much thought, Ace shifted closer.

Skylar glanced at him, catching the way Ace’s gaze had softened—the way he was looking at him like he was something precious, something to be treasured.

Skylar’s breath caught.

The next thing he knew, Ace was kissing him.

But this wasn’t like before.

This wasn’t soft, hesitant, or cautious.

This was hungry.

Ace cupped Skylar’s face, tilting his head slightly as he deepened the kiss. His lips were warm, firm, moving against Skylar’s in a way that made his entire body feel like it was burning from the inside out.

Skylar didn’t hesitate to kiss back, his fingers tangling in Ace’s hoodie as he pulled him even closer. Their bodies pressed together, their legs tangled on the couch, neither of them willing to pull away.

Ace’s hands slid down Skylar’s back, gripping at his waist like he was afraid to let go. His heartbeat was pounding—so loud he was sure Skylar could feel it.

Skylar’s fingers found their way into Ace’s hair, tugging lightly, earning a quiet groan from him.

The kiss grew deeper, more desperate.

Like they were making up for lost time.

Like they were claiming this moment, stamping it into existence so that neither of them would ever forget.

Ace nipped at Skylar’s bottom lip, and Skylar let out the softest, most breathy sound, sending a sharp wave of desire straight through Ace’s veins.

“God,” Ace murmured against his lips, pressing another kiss—then another, and another, trailing down to his jaw. “You drive me crazy.”

Skylar’s hands tightened around the fabric of Ace’s hoodie, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Good,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper.

Ace pulled back just slightly, just enough to look at him properly. Skylar’s lips were swollen, his blue eyes hazy with something between affection and heat.

Ace swore he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Skylar, still catching his breath, reached up and gently cupped Ace’s face, brushing his thumb against his cheek.

"Fuck," Skylar swallowed, his breathing uneven as he let his head fall back against the couch. Today had been eventful—getting confessed to in the morning, kissing Ace for the first time, the gut-wrenching message from his father, baking together, and then more kissing. It was like years of tension had been brewing beneath the surface, and now it was all spilling over.

Brownie was fast asleep, curled up on the armrest like the spoiled little prince he was, his tiny paws twitching in a dream. Skylar took it as a sign.

“Our only child’s asleep," Skylar murmured, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he shifted to straddle Ace’s lap. "That means he doesn’t have to witness us going at it like this.”

Ace quirked a brow, his hands instinctively finding Skylar’s waist. “Oh? And what exactly do you mean by ‘going at it’?” His voice was teasing, but there was something darker beneath it—something raw, something full of want.

Skylar rolled his eyes, dragging his fingers down Ace’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath the soft fabric. “Let’s just say I want to recreate some of the scenes from a book I read.”

Ace let out a short laugh. “Skylar, you only read smut.”

“Exactly,” Skylar muttered, his light blue eyes dark with intention.

Ace felt his stomach twist in anticipation as Skylar’s fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie. “Get this off.”

Ace let him peel the hoodie away, revealing the rather tacky Christmas shirt underneath that Skylar hadn’t fully registered before. Now, in the dim glow of the Christmas lights, he got a good look at it—bright red with a goofy snowman in sunglasses and the words “Too Cool for Yule” printed across the front.

Skylar blinked before letting out a breathless laugh. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Ace’s lips curled into a grin. “Hey, excuse you, this is a quality Christmas shirt.”

Skylar was still laughing, but it slowed when he realized Ace wasn’t looking at him—he was looking at his arms. Even after years of knowing Ace, after showing him his scars more times than he could count, it still felt different now. More intimate.

Ace’s fingers ghosted over the lines etched into Skylar’s pale skin, his touch featherlight, careful. He traced them with the same tenderness as someone handling something fragile, something precious.

“You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” Ace murmured, his gaze soft, full of something deeper than desire. Something unwavering.

Skylar swallowed, his throat tight, and instead of responding, he leaned in, his lips pressing against Ace’s with newfound urgency.

Ace’s hands tightened around Skylar’s waist as the kiss deepened, their bodies pressing closer, heat radiating between them. Skylar arched into him, chasing the warmth, the feeling of being wanted, of being loved. Ace kissed him like he had been waiting for this moment forever—because he had.

Skylar’s fingers found the hem of Ace’s ridiculous Christmas shirt, and without hesitation, he tugged it over his head, discarding it onto the floor with their other clothes. His hands explored the newly exposed skin, nails raking lightly down Ace’s toned stomach, relishing in the way he shivered under his touch.

“Not fair,” Ace mumbled against Skylar’s lips, tugging at the oversized t-shirt Skylar still wore—the one Ace had originally owned but somehow became Skylar’s after months of stealing it. He pushed it up, fingertips grazing the skin underneath, feeling the heat of him.

Skylar pulled away just long enough to yank the shirt off, letting it fall beside them. The Christmas lights flickered, casting a warm glow over his bare skin, illuminating the faint scars and sharp edges of his collarbone.

Ace swallowed hard, his breath catching. “God, you’re stunning.”

Skylar scoffed, but there was a slight flush on his cheeks. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Yeah? And you love it.”

Skylar didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned in again, kissing Ace harder this time, desperate and eager, as if he wanted to make up for every missed opportunity, every moment they had spent denying this.

Ace groaned softly against his lips, hands gripping Skylar’s waist, pulling him flush against him. He could feel the rapid beat of Skylar’s heart, matching his own, pounding in sync.

Neither of them cared about time, about the outside world, about anything but this . The air between them was thick, charged, filled with years of pent-up tension finally spilling over.

Skylar’s lips ghosted over Ace’s jaw, down his neck, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses that had Ace gripping onto him tighter, barely holding himself back.

“Sky—” Ace breathed, voice slightly hoarse.

Skylar pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his lips slightly swollen, his eyes hazy and filled with something Ace had never seen before—something intense, something real.

“I love you,” Skylar murmured.

Ace felt his heart stutter, like the words had hit him harder than any touch ever could.

“I love you too,” Ace whispered, brushing his lips against Skylar’s temple, sealing the words between them like a promise.

The world outside didn’t exist. Not the cold night air, not the snowfall blanketing the streets, not even the looming shadow of Skylar’s father. Nothing mattered except this moment—just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of each other, bathed in the soft glow of the Christmas lights.

Ace ran his hands down Skylar’s back, feeling the ridges of his spine, the warmth of his skin, memorizing every inch of him. The heat between them wasn’t just physical—it was years of longing, of silent pining, of pretending to be just best friends when their hearts had always begged for more.

Skylar’s lips hovered just above Ace’s, their breaths mingling in the charged space between them. His fingers trailed up Ace’s bare chest, mapping out the dips and curves of his body, feeling every muscle tense beneath his touch. He smirked slightly at the reaction. So sensitive.

“You okay?” Skylar whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Ace huffed out a laugh, his hands tightening around Skylar’s waist. “You’re really asking me that right now?”

Skylar chuckled softly, his lips finally brushing against Ace’s again—teasing, torturously slow. “Just making sure you’re still breathing.”

“Barely,” Ace admitted, his voice rough with need.

Skylar smiled against his lips before kissing him deeper, his hands tangling in Ace’s hair, tugging lightly, drawing a low groan from him. Ace let himself sink into the sensation, into the feeling of Skylar pressed against him, the way their bodies fit together so naturally.

His hands roamed lower, fingers skimming over the waistband of Skylar’s sweatpants, a silent question lingering between them. Skylar’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he met Ace’s gaze again—clear, wanting, trusting.

“Please,” Skylar whispered, his voice shaky but sure.

That one word undid Ace entirely.

Chapter Text

Skylar’s arms tightened around Ace’s bare shoulders, his breath uneven as a soft whine escaped his lips. His fingers gripped Ace’s skin like he was afraid to let go, his body warm and trembling beneath the weight of his boyfriend.

“W-wait, Ace,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper, his heart racing in his chest. He swallowed thickly, his light blue eyes finally locking onto Ace’s, searching for reassurance. “I–I’m not ready.”

Ace froze immediately, his hands stilling where they rested on Skylar’s waist. For a second, neither of them moved, the glow of the Christmas lights casting a soft golden hue over them. Ace’s gaze softened, and without hesitation, he pulled Skylar into his arms, holding him close.

“That’s okay, baby,” Ace murmured, his lips pressing gently to Skylar’s temple. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Skylar exhaled slowly, his head resting against Ace’s shoulder. He hated how easily he let himself get caught up in the moment, how desperate he had been to prove something—to himself, to Ace, maybe even to the ghosts of his past that still lingered in his mind. But the truth was, he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure when he would be.

And the best part? Ace didn’t mind.

“You’re not mad?” Skylar asked quietly, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against Ace’s back.

Ace pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, brushing a few strands of dark brown hair away from Skylar’s face. “Of course not, Sky. This isn’t some kind of test you have to pass.” He smiled softly. “I just wanna be close to you. However that looks, I don’t care. As long as I have you.”

Skylar felt something deep in his chest shift, something warm and almost overwhelming. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re so damn cheesy.”

“And you love it,” Ace grinned, nudging their noses together playfully.

Skylar huffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, he nuzzled into Ace’s neck, letting the warmth of their bodies pressed together soothe him. “Can we just stay like this for a while?”

Ace didn’t even hesitate. “For as long as you want.”

They stayed tangled together beneath the soft glow of the Christmas lights, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla from their earlier baking still lingering in the air. The world outside was cold, but here, wrapped up in each other, it felt like the warmest place in the universe.

Brownie, who had been curled up on the couch, stretched lazily before hopping down and trotting over to them. He sniffed at the pile of discarded clothing on the floor before finally deciding to nestle himself right against Skylar’s side, letting out a content sigh.

Skylar chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind Brownie’s ears. “Guess he wants to cuddle too.”

“Can’t blame him,” Ace murmured, tightening his arms around Skylar’s waist. “You’re very cuddly.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but let himself melt into the warmth of his boyfriend. “So, what now?”

Ace hummed thoughtfully, pressing a lazy kiss to Skylar’s shoulder. “Movie night? Something Christmas-y?”

Skylar tilted his head. “I swear if you suggest Elf again—”

“Okay, okay, how about The Polar Express ?”

Skylar made a face. “You just wanna hear that creepy train conductor again.”

Ace laughed. “Fine, Home Alone ?”

Skylar pretended to think about it, but Ace could already tell he was going to agree.

“Alright,” he finally said, “but if you start quoting every line, I’m kicking you off the couch.”

“No promises,” Ace teased, pressing a kiss to Skylar’s forehead before pulling away to grab the remote.

As they settled onto the couch, wrapped in blankets with Brownie nestled between them, Skylar felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. He had spent so much of his life waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for love to be ripped away before he could fully grasp it.

But tonight, in the glow of the Christmas lights, with Ace beside him and Brownie at his feet, he realized something.

He wasn’t waiting for love anymore.

He had already found it.

The opening notes of Home Alone played softly from the TV, blending with the gentle hum of the heater and the twinkling Christmas lights. Skylar leaned against Ace’s side, his head resting comfortably on his boyfriend’s shoulder while Brownie snoozed between them, a little ball of warmth nestled in the blankets.

Ace shifted slightly, adjusting the pillow behind his back before glancing at Skylar. “Okay, be honest—if you were Kevin, would you survive being left home alone?”

Skylar scoffed, tilting his head up to look at him. “Would I survive? Ace, please, I’d thrive .”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. First of all, I’d be way smarter about setting the traps. Why the hell would I use toy cars when I could just spill oil all over the floor? And instead of a hot doorknob, I’d just electrify the entire entrance.”

Ace snorted, wrapping an arm around Skylar’s waist. “Okay, now I’m scared. Remind me never to piss you off.”

Skylar smirked, poking Ace’s side. “Damn right. I’m a menace.”

Ace chuckled, pressing a kiss to Skylar’s temple before turning his attention back to the screen. They watched in comfortable silence for a while, but about halfway through the movie, Ace suddenly sat up, nearly knocking Brownie off his lap.

“Wait, hold on,” Ace muttered, untangling himself from the blankets. “I forgot about something important.”

Skylar blinked, rubbing his eyes. “Where are you going?”

Ace smirked, standing up and stretching. “To grab those cookies we made earlier.”

Skylar groaned, flopping back against the couch dramatically. “Ugh, you're so obvious.”

Ace laughed, ruffling Skylar’s already-messy hair before disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a plate stacked high with their gingerbread cookies—the ones they had decorated to look like each other. He flopped back down on the couch, offering the plate to Skylar.

Skylar picked up the cookie that was supposed to be him, staring at its slightly lopsided frosting smile. “You made me look like an absolute gremlin.”

Ace grinned, already chewing on the gingerbread version of himself. “I made it accurate.”

Skylar gasped, smacking Ace’s arm. “Rude.”

Ace laughed, dodging another half-hearted slap before snuggling back into Skylar’s side, his head resting against Skylar’s shoulder this time. “Admit it, I’m right.”

Skylar huffed but took a bite of the cookie anyway. It was good—slightly burnt at the edges but still sweet. They chewed in comfortable silence for a moment before Skylar spoke again.

“…Hey, Ace?”

“Hm?”

“I really like this.” Skylar swallowed, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. “Like…just spending time together like this. It feels—” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Safe.”

Ace’s teasing smile faded, replaced with something softer. He reached out, intertwining their fingers beneath the blanket. “Yeah. It does.”

They fell silent again, the sound of the movie playing in the background as they simply enjoyed the warmth of each other’s presence.

As the credits eventually rolled, Ace turned to look at Skylar, expecting him to be asleep. But to his surprise, Skylar was still wide awake, his light blue eyes focused on the screen like he was deep in thought.

“You okay?” Ace asked, nudging him gently.

Skylar hummed, nodding. “Yeah. Just…not tired, I guess.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Sky, it’s almost three in the morning.”

“So?” Skylar shrugged, tilting his head up to look at him. “You tired?”

Ace considered it for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope.”

Skylar smirked. “Then let’s stay up.”

Ace grinned, shifting so he was lying down, pulling Skylar with him. “Fine. But if we’re pulling an all-nighter, we need a game plan.”

Skylar laughed softly, resting his chin against Ace’s chest. “Alright, what’s the agenda?”

Ace tapped his chin dramatically. “Hmm…another movie? Or should we just talk until we crash?”

Skylar thought for a moment before smiling. “Let’s talk.”

And so they did.

For hours, they laid there, whispering about everything and nothing at all. They talked about their favorite Christmas memories, about stupid childhood moments, about their dreams for the future. Skylar admitted he had always wanted to travel somewhere cold and scenic, like Norway or Switzerland, just to see how different it was from the city. Ace confessed he wanted to start a band one day, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be any good.

They laughed, they teased, they reminisced.

And when the sky outside started to lighten, signaling the arrival of morning, Skylar turned to Ace, his voice groggy but full of affection.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better Christmas.”

Ace smiled sleepily, pressing one last kiss to Skylar’s forehead. “Me neither.”

And as they finally drifted off, tangled together in the mess of blankets and warmth, Brownie stretched out between them, a tiny sigh escaping his little body.

It was perfect.

Ace woke up to the soft sound of Brownie’s tiny snores, followed by the faint hum of the heater still running. The Christmas lights they had forgotten to turn off the night before cast a warm, golden glow over the living room, making everything feel soft and dreamlike.

He blinked groggily, his body sluggish from staying up all night, but the second he realized Skylar was still curled up against him, his heart gave a little kick.

Their second day together as boyfriends.

Ace smiled to himself, carefully shifting so he could get a better look at Skylar. His usually sharp features were completely relaxed in sleep, his dark brown hair falling messily across his forehead, his lips slightly parted. Ace had never seen him look this peaceful before—it was like every worry in his head had melted away overnight.

Not wanting to wake him just yet, Ace gently untangled their limbs and sat up, stretching with a quiet groan. Brownie, who had been squished between them, took the opportunity to crawl into Ace’s lap, still half-asleep.

"Morning, little dude," Ace murmured, scratching behind Brownie’s ear. The pup let out a soft, contented sigh before burrowing deeper into Ace’s hoodie.

Ace chuckled, but his attention quickly drifted back to Skylar.

The realization made Ace feel warm all over, a strange mix of excitement and disbelief. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dreamed about this—hell, he’d been imagining this moment for years. But now that it was real, now that he could actually reach out and touch Skylar without second-guessing himself, it felt so much better than any fantasy.

Still, as much as he wanted to wake Skylar up with kisses and teasing remarks, he figured his boyfriend deserved to sleep in after their long night.

Instead, Ace got up as quietly as possible, Brownie still clinging to his hoodie like a little koala, and made his way to the kitchen.

Time to be the best boyfriend ever.

The smell of coffee and warm cinnamon filled the apartment, creeping into Skylar’s dreams and slowly pulling him toward consciousness.

He groaned softly, burying his face deeper into the couch cushions, unwilling to leave the cozy warmth. It wasn’t until he heard the faint sound of humming—Ace’s humming—that his eyes finally cracked open.

Skylar sat up groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His whole body felt heavy from exhaustion, but when he turned toward the kitchen and saw Ace standing there—messy bedhead, his too-big hoodie sliding off one shoulder, Brownie still snoozing in his arms—Skylar swore his heart might actually melt.

Ace turned just in time to catch Skylar staring. He grinned. "Well, well, look who’s finally awake."

Skylar let out an exaggerated groan, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. "Why didn’t you wake me up?"

"You looked too cute," Ace replied without missing a beat, setting two mugs of coffee on the counter. "And also, I’m kinda enjoying my boyfriend of the year moment right now, so let me have this."

Skylar peeked up at him, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Oh? And what exactly does 'boyfriend of the year' mean?"

Ace gestured to the counter. "I made you breakfast."

Skylar blinked, sitting up properly. "Wait, you cooked?"

"Excuse you," Ace scoffed, placing a hand over his heart in fake offense. "I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of making something other than ramen and grilled cheese."

Skylar giggled, standing and stretching before padding over to see what Ace had made. On the counter sat two plates of cinnamon toast, perfectly golden with a dusting of sugar, and a fresh cup of coffee.

Skylar blinked at it. " Okay , I’m actually impressed."

Ace smirked, nudging him. "Told you."

They sat at the tiny kitchen table, the warmth of the apartment making everything feel extra cozy. Skylar took a sip of his coffee, humming in approval. "Alright, I’ll admit it—you might actually be boyfriend of the year material."

Ace grinned, stealing a bite of Skylar’s toast. "Damn right I am."

Skylar rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

After breakfast, they ended up back on the couch, this time curled up under the same blanket, Skylar’s legs draped over Ace’s lap. Brownie had claimed a spot between them again, happily dozing.

"So," Ace said, running a hand absentmindedly through Skylar’s hair, "what’s the plan for today?"

Skylar hummed, leaning into the touch. "Mmm…I dunno. Kinda just wanna stay here all day. You?"

"Sounds perfect," Ace murmured.

Chapter Text

Ace leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Skylar lazily ran his fingers through Brownie’s soft fur. The kitten let out a tiny meow, pushing its head into Skylar’s palm. The scene was simple, domestic even, and it made Ace’s chest feel warm. This was their second day officially together, and yet, it already felt so natural—like they had been like this forever.

“Skylar, I’m gonna go take a shower, okay? Brownie’s bowl needs to be refilled, so if you could do that, it’d be lovely,” Ace smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of Skylar’s head. His hair was messy from sleep, sticking up in a few places, but it suited him.

Skylar hummed in acknowledgment, still distracted with petting Brownie. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Go scrub yourself clean, stinky.”

Ace snorted, rolling his eyes. “I do not stink.”

“You do,” Skylar teased, finally looking up at him with a lazy grin. “But don’t worry, I still love you.”

The words caught Ace off guard. His heart did an embarrassing little flip, but he just shook his head with a chuckle, pretending it didn’t affect him as much as it did. “You’re so annoying,” he muttered, giving Skylar a playful shove before turning to leave the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of sight, his smile dropped. His hands found the hem of his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly as he made his way to the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror and immediately looked away.

He hated this part.

Showering was supposed to be refreshing, but to Ace, it was just a reminder of everything he didn’t like about himself. He never really talked about it—never let Skylar see just how deep his insecurities ran—but they were always there, lurking in the back of his mind. He knew he was bigger than Skylar, not in a way that was particularly noticeable with clothes on, but enough that he always felt self-conscious when standing beside him. Skylar was all sharp angles and lean muscle, and Ace… wasn’t. He didn’t know when he started feeling this way, but it had been a long time, and he doubted it would go away anytime soon.

With a deep breath, he stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He stripped quickly, avoiding his reflection as he turned on the shower, letting the water drown out his thoughts.

—

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Skylar gently pressed a kiss to Brownie’s tiny forehead, grinning as the kitten gave a sleepy blink in response. “Damn, Brownie, can you believe it? Ace and I are actually together now,” he mused, scratching behind the kitten’s ears. “And he’s, like, the best boyfriend ever. I swear, I don’t even deserve him.”

His gaze flickered to the ring on his finger, the cool metal a constant reminder that, somehow, Ace had chosen him—had always chosen him. A warmth spread in his chest, and he stretched his arms over his head with a groan, shaking off the soft, sentimental thoughts.

The kitchen was spotless, the lingering scent of maple syrup and cinnamon still hanging in the air from the amazing French toast Ace had made earlier. Skylar didn’t feel like doing much today, but at least there were no chores left to stress about.

Opening a fresh bag of cat food, he poured some into Brownie’s heart-shaped bowl, watching as the kitten immediately dove in, tail twitching excitedly. “You act like you’ve never eaten before,” Skylar snorted, resting his chin on the counter as he observed Brownie’s tiny paws gripping the edge of the dish. The little guy had grown so much since the day Skylar first spotted him outside the window, all small and shivering. Now, Brownie ruled the apartment like he was the king of the place.

—

Ace stepped out of the shower, immediately avoiding his reflection in the mirror . He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the familiar wave of self-criticism that always came with looking too long. Instead, he grabbed a towel, roughly rubbing it through his damp brown hair before tossing it aside.

His post-shower routine was mechanical—wash his face, apply a few extra skincare products Skylar had forced into his life, throw on something oversized. Always oversized. Even though he was alone with Skylar, the thought of wearing anything remotely fitted made his stomach churn. He grabbed a pair of sweats and an old, worn-out band t-shirt, pulling them on before running a hand through his messy hair.

Satisfied enough, he left the ensuite, the cool air of the bedroom hitting his warm skin. His eyes immediately landed on Skylar, sprawled out on the bed, a book in his hands, his legs lazily kicking at the air like he didn’t have a single care in the world. Brownie was curled up at the end of the bed, predictably asleep.

Ace smirked. “Whatcha reading?” He asked casually, already knowing the answer.

Skylar tensed for half a second, then slammed the book shut and shot Ace a look. “Nothing.”

Ace raised a brow. “Nothing? Didn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s just a story.”

“A smutty story?”

Skylar huffed dramatically, tossing the book onto the nightstand. “What if it is? I’m studying.”

“Studying?” Ace repeated, amused. “For what? Our next project?”

Skylar’s face went completely red, and he threw a pillow at Ace’s face. “Shut the hell up!”

Ace caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing as he plopped down onto the bed beside him. “You’re seriously too cute for your own good, you know that?”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but his face was still pink. “Whatever.”

Ace hummed, shifting to lay on his side, propping his head up with his arm. He reached over, taking Skylar’s free hand in his own, thumb brushing over the silver ring on his finger. “Still getting used to seeing this on you,” he murmured.

Skylar stared at their intertwined hands for a moment before squeezing his fingers. “Me too,” he admitted. “But I like it.”

Ace smiled softly, bringing Skylar’s knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss. “Good.”

They laid in comfortable silence for a bit, Brownie’s soft breathing the only sound filling the room. The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over them. It was rare for them to just be still, without teasing or chaos or something crazy happening.

Ace liked it.

After lying in peaceful silence for a while, Skylar suddenly perked up, his head still resting against Ace’s chest.

“I just had the best idea,” he announced dramatically.

Ace chuckled, brushing his fingers through Skylar’s hair. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear it.”

Skylar lifted his head, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “Let’s go to the bookstore.”

Ace groaned immediately, already regretting giving Skylar the chance to suggest something. “Sky, again? Didn’t we just go, like, last week?”

Skylar scoffed. “Uh, first of all, that was ten days ago, and second of all, I need more books.”

Ace stared at him, unimpressed. “You literally have a pile of unread books on your nightstand.”

Skylar rolled his eyes. “That’s not the point. I need to own them. You wouldn’t understand.”

Ace sighed, knowing he was definitely going to lose this argument. “Fine. But only if we don’t stay out too long.”

Skylar beamed, already bouncing off the bed. “Deal!”

Ace shook his head with a smile, watching as Skylar grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on over his t-shirt. This guy and bookstores… Ace had never met someone so obsessed with reading. He wasn’t a big reader himself, but there was something oddly cute about how excited Skylar got whenever he was surrounded by books.

Within ten minutes, they were bundled up and out the door, the crisp winter air hitting them the second they stepped outside. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, dusting the sidewalks and making the whole world look soft and quiet.

Skylar tugged on Ace’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s take the long way,” he suggested, pointing toward a small park that led to the main street.

Ace smirked. “You just wanna make this as romantic as possible, huh?”

Skylar shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe.”

Ace playfully rolled his eyes, but he followed Skylar’s lead anyway, their footsteps crunching lightly against the snow.

As they walked, Skylar slipped his hands into his hoodie pocket, shivering a little. “Maybe I should’ve grabbed gloves…”

Ace scoffed. “Your fault for prioritizing book-buying over basic survival needs.”

Skylar nudged him. “Shut up. I’m fine.”

Ace sighed before reaching out and grabbing Skylar’s hand, slipping it into his own pocket where it was warmer. “There. Now you’re fine.”

Skylar blinked up at him, his lips parting slightly. For a second, he didn’t say anything, just stared at their hands tucked together in Ace’s hoodie pocket. His face slowly turned pink.

Ace smirked. “What? Too romantic for you?”

Skylar cleared his throat, trying to sound unaffected. “No, I was just—whatever. Let’s keep walking.”

Ace chuckled, but he didn’t let go.

—

When they finally reached the bookstore, Skylar practically dragged Ace inside, his excitement peaking the moment the scent of paper and coffee hit him.

“Okay, you do whatever it is you do when we’re here,” Skylar said, already ditching Ace to dive into the nearest book display.

Ace sighed. “Right. Just gonna stand around awkwardly, then.”

Skylar waved him off. “Make yourself useful and find a book you’d actually enjoy for once.”

Ace scoffed. “I do read.”

Skylar gave him a knowing look. “Manga and band interviews don’t count.”

Ace rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he wandered off, his fingers brushing over the spines of books with mild interest. He’d never admit it, but… maybe Skylar was rubbing off on him a little.

Meanwhile, Skylar was in his element, flipping through books, skimming first pages, checking out covers. Ace watched him from across the room, smiling to himself.

It was just a bookstore trip. A simple, ordinary thing. But being here, with him , made it feel kind of special.

Maybe Skylar was onto something after all. 

Ace had gotten bored after a few minutes of wandering and decided to find Skylar, fully expecting to see him buried in a stack of books somewhere. Of course he was in the romance section. Ace smirked to himself as he made his way over, but the moment he turned the corner, his expression dropped.

Some guy—a very flirty-looking guy—was leaning against the bookshelf, way too close to Skylar.

Ace narrowed his eyes, watching as Skylar awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, clearly uncomfortable.

"So, do you come here often?" the guy asked, his voice smooth and obviously practiced.

Skylar laughed nervously. "Uh… yeah, I guess." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, gripping the book in his hands like it was a lifeline.

Ace immediately hated this dude.

The guy smirked. "That’s cool. I’ve never seen you here before. I think I would’ve remembered."

Ace clenched his jaw. Oh, hell no.

Skylar let out another awkward laugh, stepping back slightly. "Yeah, well, I come here a lot, so…"

"So, do you read a lot of romance?" The guy nodded at the book in Skylar’s hands, ignoring his obvious discomfort. "Guess that means you’re a hopeless romantic, huh?"

Skylar opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Ace stepped in.

"Yeah, he is," Ace said smoothly, sliding an arm around Skylar’s waist and pulling him in. "And lucky for him, he’s already got someone who actually knows how to flirt."

Skylar nearly dropped his book.

The guy blinked in surprise, his confident smirk faltering. "Oh, uh… you’re his boyfriend?"

Ace tightened his grip on Skylar’s waist. "Damn right, I am." His blue eyes locked onto the guy’s with a look that screamed back off.

Skylar’s face burned, his heart racing. It wasn’t often that Ace got possessive, but damn .

The guy held up his hands in surrender. "My bad, man. Didn’t know he was taken."

Ace gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Well, now you do."

With that, the guy awkwardly muttered something about checking out another section and disappeared down the aisle.

The moment he was gone, Skylar let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

"Jesus, Ace," he muttered, staring at him with wide eyes. "That was—"

"Disgusting. I know," Ace cut in, rolling his eyes. "Dude was so bad at flirting."

Skylar gaped at him. "I was gonna say that was hot but okay."

Ace blinked. Then smirked. "Oh? You liked that, huh?"

Skylar turned away, shoving a book into his boyfriend’s chest. "Shut up and hold this."

Ace chuckled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned down, brushing a kiss against Skylar’s cheek. "Next time someone tries to hit on you, just tell them you're taken before I have to step in again."

Skylar huffed, flipping through another book. "Maybe I like when you step in."

Ace smirked. "Noted."

Skylar hummed as he flipped through the pages of a fantasy novel, occasionally glancing over at Ace, who was standing beside him with his arms crossed, pretending to be disinterested.

“You’re so obvious, y’know,” Skylar teased, smirking. “You claim you don’t read, but I see you peeking at the pages.”

Ace scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m just making sure you’re not spending all your money on books you’ll read once and never touch again.”

Skylar gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I reread my books all the time, thank you very much.” He hugged the book to his chest, a playful pout on his lips. “Besides, books are an investment in happiness.”

“Right, right,” Ace muttered, shaking his head with amusement. “So, are we done here, or are you planning on buying out the entire romance section?”

Skylar’s lips twitched into a mischievous grin. “Speaking of romance…” He gestured toward the shelf behind him. “You should read one of these. Maybe you’ll learn how to be even more of a heartthrob.”

Ace scoffed. “I think I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

Skylar giggled, slipping the book he was holding into his shopping basket before looping his arm through Ace’s. “Alright, let’s check out. Then—food. I’m starving.”

Ace’s stomach churned at the mention of food. His appetite had been non-existent all day, but he knew better than to let Skylar suspect anything. If he hesitated, Skylar would immediately pick up on it, so Ace forced himself to nod casually. “Yeah, sure. What are you in the mood for?”

Skylar didn’t hesitate. “Takeout. That way, we can eat at the dorm while playing video games.” His eyes lit up. “Oh! We should get from that noodle place we like.”

Ace kept his expression neutral, even as his chest tightened. He’d have to fake his way through this meal, but he’d done it before. “Sounds good to me.”

Skylar beamed and led them toward the checkout. Ace let him, even as the familiar weight of anxiety settled in his stomach.

—

By the time they got back to their dorm, the sky outside was tinged with hues of orange and pink. Brownie was sprawled out on their bed, lazily stretching when he heard them come in.

“Guess what, Brownie?” Skylar cooed, setting his bag of books on the nightstand. “We got takeout, and Ace is gonna let me kick his ass in Mario Kart.”

Ace snorted, kicking off his shoes. “You wish. I’ve been holding back this whole time.”

Skylar gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “So, what I’m hearing is… you’ve been lying to me about your skills this whole time?”

Ace smirked. “Something like that.”

“Unbelievable,” Skylar huffed, already moving toward the TV to set up the game. “Guess I’ll just have to expose you.”

Ace rolled his eyes, but his heart swelled at how easily they fell into their usual banter.

Skylar grabbed the takeout bag and plopped onto the floor, handing Ace a container before opening his own. “Alright, let’s talk about our past while I destroy you in this game. Favorite childhood memory—go.”

Ace stared at the unopened container in his hands, his grip tightening slightly. “Easy. The time we tried to build a treehouse and failed miserably.”

Skylar burst into laughter, nearly choking on his food. “Oh my God, I forgot about that! We spent weeks planning it, only for the stupid thing to collapse as soon as we put the first board up.”

Ace chuckled, setting his food aside unnoticed. “Hey, in our defense, we were twelve.”

“And completely clueless,” Skylar teased, taking another bite of his food.

Ace watched him, feeling something warm settle in his chest. He was so effortlessly himself, so full of life. And Ace wanted to be better—for him.

Brownie meowed and pawed at Skylar’s knee, clearly hoping for some food. Skylar grinned, breaking off a tiny piece of chicken and setting it down for him.

“You spoil him,” Ace pointed out.

Skylar shrugged. “Of course I do. He’s our son.”

Ace chuckled. “Guess that makes us cat dads.”

Skylar smirked. “Damn right it does.”

The game started, their laughter filling the room as they fell into their usual rhythm—playing, teasing, reminiscing.

And for a while, Ace forgot about everything else.

Skylar groaned dramatically as his kart spun out from hitting a banana peel. “ Are you serious? I was in first place!”

Ace smirked, eyes focused on the screen as he effortlessly drifted around a corner. “That’s what you get for underestimating me.”

Skylar shot him a playful glare before shoving another bite of noodles into his mouth. “Okay, okay, new rule—no using anything against me.”

Ace scoffed. “That’s literally how the game works, Sky.”

Skylar pouted, but before he could argue further, another player slammed into him with a red shell. “ Oh, come on! ” He flopped backward onto the floor, dramatically holding his chopsticks above his head. “This is a personal attack at this point.”

Ace chuckled, absently twirling his noodles around with his chopsticks but never bringing them to his mouth. He made sure to shift the container every now and then, picking at the food to make it look like he was eating. Skylar was too focused on the game to notice.

After a moment, Skylar sat back up and narrowed his eyes at Ace. “You’re too good at this. Did you secretly train for this moment?”

Ace raised a brow. “You think I just sit playing Mario Kart alone, waiting for the day I can humiliate you?”

“Yes,” Skylar said without hesitation.

Ace chuckled, shaking his head. “I swear I didn’t. You’re just predictable.”

Skylar gasped in fake offense. “Predictable? Me? ”

Ace nodded. “Every time you get a speed boost, you go straight for the shortcuts. And when you’re in first place, you never check behind you. Makes you easy to hit.”

Skylar blinked, processing that information before groaning. “Damn it. You’re right.” He pointed a chopstick at Ace. “I will get better and wipe that smirk off your stupidly handsome face.”

Ace snorted. “Looking forward to it.”

Skylar returned his focus to his food, slurping up the last of his noodles while Ace continued to poke at his untouched meal. His stomach churned at the thought of forcing himself to eat, but as long as he kept up the illusion, Skylar wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“Okay, next question,” Skylar said, leaning back against the couch. “If you could go back in time and redo one moment in our friendship, what would it be?”

Ace hesitated, shifting the chopsticks between his fingers. There were a lot of moments he wished he could redo—times he wished he’d noticed Skylar struggling sooner, times he wished he’d spoken up about his own issues instead of bottling them up. But he didn’t want to make things heavy, so he smirked.

“I’d go back to middle school and not let you convince me that eating an entire jar of pickles in one sitting was a good idea.”

Skylar burst into laughter, nearly knocking over Brownie, who meowed in protest before curling back up. “Oh my God, I forgot about that. You were so sick.”

Ace groaned at the memory. “Yeah. And someone just laughed at me the entire time instead of helping.”

Skylar grinned. “In my defense, it was hilarious. ”

Ace rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched into a smile.

They continued playing, falling into easy conversation between rounds. Skylar kept talking—about the books he bought, random childhood memories, theories about a show they both liked. Ace let him, nodding and throwing in occasional comments while still idly fidgeting with his food.

Eventually, Skylar stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Man, today was nice. I’m glad we went out.”

Ace hummed in agreement, though his thoughts were elsewhere. His stomach ached, not from hunger but from the lingering anxiety of knowing he hadn’t eaten all day. But it didn’t matter. Skylar was happy. And as long as he could keep up the act, that was enough.

For now.

Chapter Text

For once, Skylar was the one to wake up first. After all, classes were starting again. New year, new me , or whatever people said. Winter break had been magical—every moment spent with Ace and Brownie, doing cute, cringe-worthy things he would never admit out loud. But like all good things, it had to come to an end.

He stretched, his body still warm under the blankets, reluctant to move. Beside him, Ace was still curled up, sound asleep. The sight made Skylar smile, but his gaze lingered a little longer than usual.

Ace had changed.

Skylar wasn’t sure when exactly he started noticing it, but the signs were there—subtle but undeniable. The way Ace’s clothes hung a little looser on his frame. How he seemed more tired, more drained, even on days when they did nothing at all. Skylar could’ve sworn he caught him zoning out more often, his usual spark dimmed ever so slightly.

But what could he say? Hey, I think you look thinner, what’s up with that? That sounded horrible.

Pushing the thought aside, Skylar carefully rolled out of bed, making sure not to disturb Ace. He clearly needed the sleep, judging by the way he was curled in on himself, his face peaceful but drawn with exhaustion.

Skylar had already laid out his uniform the night before, as he always did—everything neatly in order, no scrambling around last minute. He grabbed his clothes and padded into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.

The shower felt nice against his sore muscles, the warmth soaking into his skin, washing away the lingering comfort of sleep. He stayed under the spray longer than necessary, letting the water work out the stiffness in his body.

Once he was done, he dressed swiftly, fingers working his tie into place with practiced ease. He ran a hand through his damp brown hair before stepping back into the room.

Ace was still asleep.

That was weird. He should’ve been up by now.

Skylar hesitated for a second before stepping closer to the bed. “Ace?” he called softly, leaning down.

No response.

He reached out, gently shaking Ace’s shoulder. “Hey, rise and shine.”

A low groan finally escaped Ace’s lips as he buried his face into the pillow, his voice muffled. “Five more minutes.”

Skylar snorted. “Ace, we have class.”

Another groan. Then, begrudgingly, Ace peeked one eye open, squinting up at Skylar like he was the devil himself.

“…When did you become a morning person?”

“I didn’t. I’m just responsible.” Skylar smirked, poking his boyfriend’s cheek. “Come on, you’ll regret it if you’re late.”

Ace sighed dramatically, finally sitting up. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in ways Skylar found painfully endearing. His uniform, however, was nowhere in sight.

“Did you not set an alarm?” Skylar asked, crossing his arms.

Ace scratched the back of his head. “I guess I forgot.”

Skylar frowned slightly. “That’s not like you.”

Ace just shrugged and swung his legs over the bed. “Guess I was just tired.”

Skylar wanted to push further— tired? You've been tired for what seemed like weeks now —but he let it slide. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Ace’s forehead. “Go shower, lazyass.”

Ace grumbled but obeyed, trudging to the bathroom while Skylar busied himself by gathering his things. Brownie, still curled up at the foot of the bed, let out a tiny meow before stretching his little body.

Skylar smiled. “Morning, baby.” He scooped the kitten up, holding him close. Brownie purred instantly, rubbing his face against Skylar’s chin. “You’re gonna miss us today, huh?”

Brownie only purred louder, as if agreeing.

A few minutes later, Ace emerged from the bathroom, dressed but looking half-dead. Skylar tossed him a granola bar from his bag. “Eat.”

Ace caught it, but instead of opening it, he just rolled it between his fingers. “I’ll eat later.”

Skylar gave him a look. “Promise?”

Ace flashed his usual smirk. “Scout’s honor.”

Skylar wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push. He checked the time. “We should get going.”

Ace nodded, grabbing his bag, and together they headed out the door.

On Campus

The cold air hit them the moment they stepped outside, making Skylar shiver slightly. Ace, on the other hand, didn’t seem to react at all, as if he was used to the chill.

As they walked, Skylar talked, filling the air with casual conversation about his expectations for the semester, how much he was dreading certain assignments, and how he was determined to keep up with studying this time around.

Ace mostly just listened, humming occasionally, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

When they reached the campus gates, the usual morning chaos was in full swing—students rushing to classes, some still half-asleep, others laughing and chatting.

“See you after class?” Skylar asked, adjusting his bag strap.

Ace gave a lazy salute. “I’ll be around.”

Skylar hesitated for a moment before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Ace’s lips. “Try not to fall asleep in class.”

“No promises,” Ace murmured against his lips before pulling away with a smirk.

Skylar rolled his eyes, watching as Ace turned and walked off toward his own lecture hall.

As much as he wanted to pretend everything was normal, that nagging feeling still lingered in the back of his mind. Ace was different lately. And Skylar wasn’t going to ignore it forever.

For now, though, he had a class to survive.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d do a little digging later.

Skylar sighed as he stepped into the lecture hall, scanning for a decent seat. The room was already buzzing with conversation, people catching up after winter break, some looking just as reluctant to be back as he felt. He dropped into a seat near the middle, pulling out his notebook as his professor started setting up.

But his mind wasn’t really on class.

Instead, it was on Ace.

Skylar had tried to push the worry aside, but it lingered like a shadow in the back of his mind. He had noticed the changes. He wasn’t blind. Ace’s energy had been off, his appetite seemingly nonexistent. And the way he had held onto that granola bar this morning? Rolling it between his fingers but never actually eating it?

Skylar clenched his jaw.

He wasn’t stupid.

Still, he didn’t know how to bring it up . Ace was stubborn as hell—if he was struggling with something, there was no way he’d just admit it outright. And Skylar didn’t want to push too hard, not when Ace was already acting so distant about it.

But something was wrong.

He knew it.

The professor started talking, and Skylar forced himself to focus. He could deal with Ace later.

—

After class, Skylar headed toward the campus courtyard, pulling out his phone to text Ace.

“Where u at?”

A few seconds later, his screen lit up.

“Library. Come find me.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow. Ace? In the library? Since when?

Curious, he made his way there, pushing through the doors and scanning the rows of tables. It didn’t take long to spot Ace, slouched over a textbook, a pencil twirling between his fingers.

Skylar slid into the seat across from him. “Since when do you study?”

Ace looked up, smirking. “Since I realized I forgot everything over break.”

Skylar snorted. “Sounds about right.”

Ace leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. “How was class?”

“Boring. Long. I almost fell asleep.”

Ace smirked. “That’s my line.”

Skylar rolled his eyes, but his gaze drifted down toward the table. The granola bar from this morning was sitting there, still unopened.

Something twisted in his gut.

He kept his voice casual. “You gonna eat that?”

Ace followed his gaze, then shrugged, picking it up and stuffing it in his bag. “Later.”

Skylar bit his tongue. How many ‘laters’ does it take before later never comes?

He let it go. For now.

Instead, he changed the subject. “Wanna get out of here? We could go somewhere after your next class.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Like where?”

“Dunno. We could hit up the arcade? Maybe grab some snacks?”

Ace hesitated, and Skylar immediately regretted the food suggestion.

“…Arcade sounds fun,” Ace finally said.

Skylar smiled, pretending not to notice the way Ace had carefully avoided acknowledging the snacks part.

“Cool. I’ll meet you after class.”

—

By the time they reached the arcade later that evening, the place was alive with flashing lights, the sounds of game machines, and excited chatter from students who had the same idea.

Skylar felt his mood instantly lift. He’d always loved arcades—there was something comforting about the nostalgia of them, the simple joy of playing games and winning dumb prizes.

Ace, however, looked less excited and more… drained.

Skylar nudged him. “You good?”

Ace blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he was in. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Skylar frowned but didn’t push. Instead, he grabbed Ace’s wrist and dragged him toward the racing games.

“Come on. I need to absolutely destroy you in Speed Rush X .”

Ace scoffed. “ Destroy me? Sky, I literally beat you every time we play.”

“Yeah, yeah. Talk now, cry later.”

They both slid into their seats, gripping the fake steering wheels as the countdown started.

Three… Two… One—

Skylar sucked at racing games.

Ace? He was practically a pro .

By the time they hit the final lap, Ace was effortlessly drifting around corners while Skylar crashed into every possible wall.

When the game ended, Ace leaned back with a victorious smirk. “So, what was that about destroying me?”

Skylar huffed. “That game was rigged.”

“Sure it was.”

They moved on to a shooting game next, which Skylar was actually good at. He and Ace stood side by side, aiming plastic guns at the screen, mowing down wave after wave of zombies.

“Headshot,” Skylar muttered as he took down a particularly large one.

Ace snorted. “Damn, remind me to never piss you off.”

They played round after round, and for the first time all day, Skylar saw Ace actually relax .

Eventually, they made their way to the prize counter, exchanging tickets for a ridiculously oversized plush cat.

Skylar held it up. “Look! A friend for Brownie.”

Ace eyed the plush. “It’s bigger than him.”

Skylar hugged it to his chest dramatically. “Size doesn’t matter, Ace.”

Ace chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

Skylar grinned. “Your idiot.”

They stepped outside into the chilly evening air, Skylar clutching the plush in one hand while Ace stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Skylar’s stomach growled.

Ace glanced over. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

“…Wanna grab takeout?”

Skylar brightened. “Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Ace nodded, pulling out his phone. “I’ll order.”

They settled on their usual Chinese place, grabbing their food and heading back to the dorm.

—

Back in their dorm, they plopped onto the floor, their takeout spread out on the coffee table. Brownie hopped onto Skylar’s lap, sniffing curiously at the boxes.

Skylar laughed. “Sorry, little dude. No Chinese food for you.”

Ace chuckled, picking up his chopsticks.

Skylar dug in immediately, but as he ate, he noticed something.

Ace wasn’t eating.

Not really.

He was picking at his food, moving things around, bringing pieces to his lips but never actually taking a bite.

Skylar frowned slightly. “You good?”

Ace looked up. “Hm?”

“You’re not eating.”

Ace waved him off. “I’m just slow.”

Skylar hesitated, but then Ace grabbed a dumpling and actually took a bite.

It was enough to throw Skylar off his concern.

They played video games after eating, sprawled on the floor, Brownie curled up between them.

It felt normal .

For a while, Skylar almost convinced himself that nothing was wrong.

That Ace was fine.

That his gut feeling was just him overthinking.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ace’s takeout box.

Still nearly full.

Skylar pressed his lips together.

He wouldn’t bring it up. Not yet.

But he would find a way to help.

Skylar stretched out on the floor, his head resting against the couch as the glow of the TV flickered over his face. The latest round of their game had ended, and while Ace lazily tapped at his controller, Skylar’s focus was elsewhere.

The takeout container.

Still nearly full.

It wasn’t the first time Skylar had noticed. At first, he told himself it was nothing—Ace just wasn’t that hungry, maybe his appetite was off from winter break. But now? It was becoming a pattern.

And patterns were dangerous.

His mind drifted back to all the little things—the way Ace’s clothes hung a little looser, the way he always seemed tired , the way he would fidget with his food rather than eat it. Skylar hadn’t wanted to pry, hadn’t wanted to overstep, but his gut told him something wasn’t right.

And his gut was rarely wrong.

“Hey,” Skylar started casually, keeping his tone light, “you didn’t eat much.”

Ace didn’t look up from the screen. “I wasn’t that hungry.”

Skylar hesitated. “You sure? You barely touched it.”

Ace shrugged. “I had a big lunch.”

Skylar frowned. That’s a lie. We were together all day.

But he didn’t call him out on it.

Instead, he hummed, pretending to accept the answer as he leaned back, shifting his gaze back to the game.

Ace was lying to him.

And Skylar had no idea how to handle that.

—

The next morning, Skylar woke up before Ace again.

It was starting to feel like a routine.

He stretched, groaning softly as he glanced at the clock. His first class wasn’t for another two hours, but he had woken up early again . His body clearly wasn’t used to the new semester schedule yet.

Beside him, Ace was curled up, the blanket tangled around his waist, his breathing soft and even.

Skylar studied him for a moment.

The dark circles under his eyes.

The way his cheekbones looked a little sharper than before.

The way his ribs were starting to show when he stretched.

His stomach twisted.

Sliding out of bed as quietly as possible, Skylar made his way to the kitchen. Brownie was already up, tail flicking as he rubbed against Skylar’s legs.

“Morning, little guy,” Skylar murmured, crouching down to scratch under his chin.

Brownie purred loudly, clearly unbothered by whatever existential crisis Skylar was currently having.

Skylar sighed, standing up and heading toward the fridge.

He decided to make breakfast.

Maybe Ace would eat this .

He pulled out eggs, toast, and some fruit, moving through the motions of cooking while his thoughts raced. What if I’m overreacting? What if this is just stress?

But what if it’s not?

By the time he finished, Ace was finally awake, emerging from the bedroom in his usual lazy attire—oversized hoodie, sweatpants, damp hair from his morning shower.

Skylar forced a smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Ace grunted in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat at the table.

Skylar placed a plate in front of him, trying to sound casual. “Made breakfast.”

Ace blinked at the food. “You cooked?”

Skylar smirked. “Shocking, right?”

Ace chuckled, picking up a fork. “A little.”

Skylar sat across from him, watching closely as Ace poked at the eggs.

A few bites.

Small, hesitant.

Not enough.

Skylar felt frustration bubbling in his chest, but he swallowed it down. He had to be careful. If he pushed too hard, Ace would just retreat further.

Instead, he smiled. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

Ace shrugged. “Class. Maybe hit the library again.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “You’re really committing to this whole studious Ace thing, huh?”

Ace smirked. “New year, new me.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but let the conversation drift into lighter topics. He’d bring it up later.

For now, he’d just watch.

And wait.

Chapter Text

Class was brutal. Not because of the material—Skylar could keep up just fine when he actually paid attention—but because his mind was stuck on a loop, replaying every little thing he’d noticed about Ace over the past few weeks.

He can’t be… No way.

His hands clenched into fists against his thighs as he tried to shake the thought. But it wouldn’t leave. Skylar hadn’t seen him eat a full meal in a month.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. His professor was still droning on at the front of the room, but Skylar had long since given up on taking notes. His notebook was blank. His pen rested uselessly in his grip. He was supposed to be learning about something important—probably. But instead, his mind was consumed by questions Ace refused to answer.

Why won’t he talk to me about it? Why does he keep pretending this is all okay?

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples as frustration swirled in his chest. If Ace was struggling, why wouldn’t he just say something? They told each other everything. At least… that’s what Skylar thought.

The class dragged on for what felt like hours (which, in reality, was only three), and by the time the professor finally dismissed them, Skylar felt like he had barely absorbed a single thing. As he packed his things into his bag, he grabbed his phone and shot Ace a quick text.

Hey, love. Where are you at right now?

No answer.

He stared at the screen for a second, his chest tightening. Ace always answered quickly, but maybe his phone was dead. That had been happening more often lately—Ace forgetting to charge it, misplacing it, getting more and more careless with little things.

Skylar slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out into the hallway, slipping one earbud in as he weaved through the crowd of students. A rock song played—one of the bands Ace had introduced him to. Good music, he thought absentmindedly, but it wasn’t enough to distract him.

He stepped outside and immediately regretted not bringing a coat. The wind cut straight through his uniform blazer, and he hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his sleeves as he made his way across campus. The air was sharp, biting against his exposed skin, but he barely felt it. His mind was somewhere else entirely.

Ace had mentioned studying in the library again during breakfast. Skylar didn’t mind—it was quiet, warm, and it was something Ace enjoyed. But the way he had looked this morning… Skylar’s stomach twisted.

When he finally pushed through the heavy doors of the library, the warmth was a welcome relief. His cheeks and nose were undoubtedly red from the cold, but he ignored it, scanning the near-empty space for his boyfriend.

It didn’t take long to find him.

Ace sat alone at a table near the window, his head down, arms folded. His backpack lay discarded on the floor beside him, completely ignored.

Skylar knew that posture.

He’s not reading.

He’s not studying.

He’s asleep.

And he looked sick.

Skylar hesitated for a second before stepping forward. The closer he got, the worse Ace looked. His skin was pale, his cheekbones looked sharper than usual, and his fingers were curled weakly against his sleeve.

“Ace?” Skylar’s voice was gentle, but firm, as he reached out and brushed a hand over his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Ace stirred slightly, blinking blearily up at him. His blue eyes were hazy with exhaustion, as if he hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest in weeks.

“Mm? Sky?” His voice was hoarse, groggy. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up a little, and forced a small, lazy grin. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

Skylar’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Looking for you. You didn’t answer my text.”

Ace patted his pockets sluggishly before giving up. “Phone’s dead, I think.”

Skylar wasn’t surprised.

“Are you okay?”

Ace stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, just tired. Studying is exhausting, y’know.”

It was a lie.

Skylar could hear it, feel it, but Ace was pretending like nothing was wrong, like he wasn’t sitting here looking like he was about to collapse at any second.

And for once, Skylar didn’t want to let it slide.

“Ace.” His voice was quieter now, but it carried weight.

Ace blinked at him, still groggy, still trying to shake off the drowsiness. “Yeah?”

Skylar’s fingers curled into his sleeves. “You have to start eating more.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Ace’s expression flickered.

“What?”

Skylar took a breath. His heart was hammering, but he kept his voice steady.

“I’m not an idiot, Ace. I see you. You’re exhausted all the time, you’re getting thinner, you barely eat when I’m around. You think I haven’t noticed?”

Ace opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Skylar pushed forward. “I know you, Ace. And this isn’t just you being ‘tired’ or ‘busy’ or whatever excuse you want to give me. You’re not okay. ”

Ace looked away, his jaw tightening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.

Skylar huffed, exasperated. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Ace stayed silent.

Skylar ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mixing with concern. “Look, I’m not trying to push you, okay? I just… I care about you. So much. And I need you to know that you don’t have to pretend around me.”

Ace exhaled through his nose, his fingers gripping the edge of the table.

“I do eat,” he muttered.

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “Picking at your food and moving it around on your plate doesn’t count, Ace.”

Ace flinched.

Skylar’s chest ached at the sight.

“Please,” Skylar whispered, his voice softer now. “I’m not mad. I’m just worried. I love you, Ace. And I don’t want to just sit here and watch you hurt yourself.”

Ace swallowed hard. His defenses were cracking, but he was still holding on, still trying to act like everything was fine.

Skylar reached out, taking his boyfriend’s cold hand in his own, squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Ace’s fingers twitched, and for a second, Skylar thought he was finally going to open up.

But then Ace forced another smile, this one shakier than the last.

“You’re overthinking it, Sky.”

Skylar’s heart sank.

But he didn’t let go.

Ace's grip tightened around Skylar’s hand, but he still wouldn’t meet his eyes. His fingers felt colder than they should’ve been, like he hadn’t had enough energy to warm them up.

Skylar swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed back, his voice quieter this time. “Ace… talk to me.”

Ace exhaled sharply through his nose. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Skylar’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Ace was shutting him out, brushing him off like he always did when things got too real. But Skylar knew him—knew every little habit, every tell. And right now? Ace wasn’t fine.

And he hadn’t been for a long time.

“Ace,” Skylar tried again, firmer now. “You can’t just keep doing this.”

Ace finally glanced up, his tired blue eyes meeting Skylar’s. “Doing what?” His voice was flat, almost defensive.

Skylar inhaled sharply. “Acting like this isn’t a problem. Like I don’t see what’s happening to you.” His voice wavered, frustration bleeding through. “I know you, Ace. And I know when you’re lying.”

Ace’s lips pressed together, his fingers twitching slightly against Skylar’s.

But still, no real answer.

Skylar’s heart ached. He wasn’t trying to attack him, he wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t keep watching him fade away like this.

“I just… I don’t understand,” Skylar admitted, shaking his head. “You love food. Loved food. You used to drag me out to random diners at two in the morning just because you had a craving for something stupid like chili cheese fries. You used to steal my snacks, even when I told you not to.” He forced out a weak laugh, but it faded quickly. “Now I have to convince you to take a bite of anything, and half the time, you don’t even pretend anymore.”

Ace looked away, his fingers curling in his lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Skylar felt his frustration spike. “Yes, you do.”

Ace exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Sky, just drop it. ”

“No.”

Ace’s head snapped back toward him, eyes narrowing slightly.

“No?” he echoed.

Skylar straightened his back, heart pounding. “No,” he repeated, voice steady. “I’m not dropping it. I’ve let this go for too long because I thought maybe—maybe I was overreacting. But I’m not. ” His fingers curled into his sleeves. “And I refuse to sit here and pretend like I don’t see what’s happening to you.”

Ace was silent, jaw tight, staring at the table like if he focused hard enough, Skylar would just disappear.

But Skylar wasn’t disappearing. He was staying right here.

“Please,” Skylar murmured. “Just talk to me.”

Ace let out a slow breath, fingers flexing against his knee. His leg bounced slightly—a nervous habit Skylar had picked up on years ago.

“I’m fine,” Ace muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

Skylar let out a humorless laugh. “Bullshit.”

Ace frowned.

“You’re not fine,” Skylar pushed. “You’re exhausted. You’re pale. You barely eat. You’re—” His voice caught, and he had to take a second before continuing. “You’re disappearing on me, Ace.”

Ace’s frown deepened. His fingers twitched against the table.

Skylar swallowed hard. “And I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know how to help you if you won’t let me.”

Ace’s eyes flickered—just for a second. A flash of something deep, something vulnerable, something scared.

Skylar reached out, his hand gentle as it settled on Ace’s arm. He wasn’t trying to push too hard. He just needed Ace to see him—to hear him.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Skylar whispered.

Ace’s lips parted, like he was about to say something. Maybe something real, something honest.

But then, just as quickly as the moment came, Ace shut down.

His expression hardened, the tension in his jaw tightening.

“I told you, I’m fine. ”

And then, just like that, he pulled away.

Skylar’s hand dropped to the table, his heart sinking as Ace grabbed his backpack and shoved it over his shoulder.

“I gotta go,” Ace muttered. “I have class.”

Skylar blinked. “Ace—”

“Drop it, Skylar.”

And before Skylar could even think of a way to stop him, Ace was gone.

—

Skylar sat there for a long time, staring at the space where Ace had just been.

His heart was pounding. His hands were trembling slightly.

He’d tried. He’d pushed. But Ace still wouldn’t let him in.

Skylar clenched his fists, his throat burning.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

With a sharp inhale, he dragged a hand through his hair and glanced around. The library was still mostly empty, aside from a few students buried in their own work. It didn’t feel right to just sit there, but chasing after Ace wasn’t going to help either.

He knew Ace too well.

The moment Ace got defensive, the only thing Skylar could do was give him space—no matter how much it hurt.

But for how long?

Skylar sighed, rubbing his temples. He should probably go to his next class, but he knew he wasn’t going to focus. His brain was stuck on a loop, replaying Ace’s exhausted face, the way his hands shook slightly when he reached for his bag, the way his clothes seemed to hang off his frame more than they used to.

It was like putting together a puzzle that had been right in front of him the entire time, but he’d refused to see the full picture until now.

And now that he had … he couldn’t look away.

With one final sigh, Skylar grabbed his phone, opening up his messages.

I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. I just… I love you. Please let me help.

He stared at the message for a long moment before hitting send.

It was all he could do for now.

—

Ace’s hands were shaking as he gripped the straps of his backpack, his breath coming out just a little too fast.

He should’ve expected it.

Skylar was smart. Too smart. He noticed everything. It was only a matter of time before he caught on.

And he had.

Ace cursed under his breath, weaving through the halls as he made his way to his next class. He didn’t even want to go, but he needed something to focus on—something to get Skylar’s voice out of his head.

You’re disappearing on me, Ace.

His stomach twisted. He hated that Skylar was worried. He hated that he felt guilty for making him worry. He hated that—no matter how hard he tried to pretend it wasn’t an issue—it was.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t even need to check to know it was Skylar.

Ace swallowed hard, keeping his eyes forward. If he looked at the message now, he might cave.

And he couldn’t cave.

Not when he had spent so much time convincing himself that he had everything under control.

If I just hold out a little longer…

He wasn’t sure what that even meant.

But he wanted to believe it.

—

Skylar’s foot tapped anxiously under his desk, eyes locked on the clock as the last class of the day dragged on. He hadn’t received a reply from Ace. Not a single one.

That wasn’t normal.

Even when Ace was annoyed, he at least sent a one-word response.

This was something else.

As soon as class ended, Skylar barely waited for the professor to finish dismissing them before grabbing his things and bolting out the door.

Ace’s last class had just ended too. He knew because he’d memorized his schedule.

They hadn’t planned to meet up after classes today, but Skylar was making an exception.

Weaving through students, he made his way toward the exit, pulling out his phone and shooting another text.

Where are you?

No answer.

Again.

Skylar’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

A bad feeling settled deep in his chest as he stepped out into the cold. The sky had already started to turn gray, the winter air biting against his skin.

He tried to think. If Ace wasn’t answering, where would he go?

His first thought was the dorm. But something told him that wasn’t it.

Library again? Unlikely.

The gym? Ace didn’t really go much anymore.

Skylar chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Then, it hit him.

He turned on his heel and changed directions, heading toward the park.

It was a spot Ace had always liked—one of those places he went when he needed to think.

And sure enough, as Skylar approached the bench near the frozen lake, his chest squeezed at the sight of a familiar figure sitting with his hood pulled up, arms wrapped around himself.

Skylar let out a breath, walking closer.

“Ace.”

Ace tensed. His head turned slightly, blue eyes peeking out from beneath his hood.

“…Hey.”

Skylar sat down next to him, his fingers curling together in his lap. He didn’t say anything right away, just let the silence settle between them.

Ace exhaled softly, shifting his gaze to the lake. “…I know you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” Skylar shook his head, voice quiet. “I’m just worried.”

Ace didn’t respond.

Skylar let out a breath, watching it fog in the cold air. “I don’t know how to help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Ace’s fingers curled against his sleeves. “…It’s not that easy.”

Skylar swallowed hard. “I know.”

More silence.

Ace sighed, rubbing his face before finally— finally —turning to look at him.

“…I don’t know how to stop,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Skylar’s chest tightened.

Ace looked small like this. Like the weight of everything was finally catching up to him.

Skylar didn’t hesitate. He reached out, gripping Ace’s hand tightly. “Then let me help.”

Ace’s throat bobbed, his eyes flickering with hesitation. “…Okay.”

Skylar’s grip tightened.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was a start.

Skylar’s fingers tightened around Ace’s hand, afraid that if he let go, Ace would slip away again. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, but Skylar wasn’t backing down—not this time.

He turned slightly, eyes scanning Ace’s face. His boyfriend looked exhausted , and not just in the physical sense. There was something deeper, something that had been eating at him for longer than Skylar could even begin to understand.

“…Why?” Skylar’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but firm enough that Ace knew he wasn’t letting this conversation die.

Ace blinked, turning his head toward him. “Why what ?”

Skylar exhaled, glancing down at their joined hands. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Ace’s body tensed. His free hand gripped his blazer sleeve so tightly that his knuckles went white. “Skylar…”

“I’m serious, Ace.” Skylar looked up again, his expression raw. “I—I just don’t get it. I don’t get why you’re doing this. Why you won’t eat. Why you keep pretending you’re okay when you’re not. ”

Ace swallowed hard. His jaw clenched like he was holding something back.

Skylar didn’t let up. “You know I’d never judge you. You know that, right?”

Ace nodded stiffly, his fingers twitching in Skylar’s grip. “I know.”

“Then talk to me. Please.” Skylar squeezed his hand again, trying to ground him, trying to pull him back.

Ace inhaled sharply, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He stared out at the frozen lake, his expression unreadable.

“…It’s not something I just started doing,” Ace admitted quietly. “It’s been like this for years.”

Skylar’s stomach twisted. “…How long?”

Ace exhaled through his nose, rubbing his thumb along the seam of his sleeve. “Since I was like…thirteen?.”

Skylar felt his heart drop.

Years. Years. Ace had been struggling with this for that long , and he’d never said a word?

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “Why?”

Ace let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “I wish I had an easy answer.” His voice was tired, like he’d thought about this too much before. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s like my brain refuses to let me see myself the way other people do. Some days I can look in the mirror and be fine, and then other days, I just—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I don’t even recognize myself.”

Skylar’s fingers curled slightly, his grip still firm. He knew Ace had insecurities. That was something Ace had always been open about—how he never liked looking at himself for too long, how he always picked apart little things about his appearance. But Skylar never realized how deep it ran.

Ace let out another breath, his voice quieter now. “And when it gets bad… when I feel like I look wrong , like I’m taking up too much space—I just stop eating.” His jaw tightened. “It feels like the only thing I can control.”

Skylar’s chest ached. He wanted to reach out and hold him, to tell him that none of that was true, that he was perfect , but he knew that wasn’t how this worked.

Instead, he asked, “And when was the last time it got bad?”

Ace hesitated.

Skylar felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

“…Recently,” Ace finally admitted. His voice was strained, like the words were being dragged out of him against his will. “I don’t know why. It just… happens. I’ll be fine one day, and then the next, I’ll wake up and suddenly hate everything about myself.”

Skylar’s breath hitched.

So that’s what had been happening. That’s why Ace had been getting weaker, why he’d been eating less and less. His body dysmorphia had gotten worse again, and Ace had been dealing with it alone.

Skylar felt a painful, frustrated kind of helplessness settle in his chest. He wanted to fix this. He wanted to snap his fingers and make Ace see himself the way Skylar did.

But he couldn’t.

What he could do, though, was be there.

“…You don’t have to do this alone,” Skylar said quietly, his thumb brushing over Ace’s knuckles.

Ace let out a slow breath. “I know.”

Skylar turned fully toward him. “I mean it. I don’t care how long this has been going on. You don’t have to fight it by yourself anymore.”

Ace’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Skylar didn’t rush him.

Eventually, after a long pause, Ace exhaled and leaned against him.

Skylar felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit as he wrapped an arm around Ace, holding him close.

Skylar shuddered as a blast of icy wind hit him square in the face. The realization that he’d been standing outside for so long without a coat really settled in, and now that the emotional adrenaline was wearing off, his body was starting to catch up.

His teeth chattered as he tried to keep still, but he couldn’t stop the way his shoulders trembled under the thin fabric of his uniform blazer.

Ace immediately noticed.

“You’re freezing.” His voice was quieter now, softer.

Skylar let out a shaky breath. “Didn’t bring a coat,” he admitted, trying for a small smile, but his lips barely moved. “Not my smartest moment.”

Ace rolled his eyes fondly before shrugging off his own jacket. “Here.”

Skylar’s brows furrowed as he hesitated. “Ace, you’ll get cold—”

Ace draped the jacket over Skylar’s shoulders before he could argue further, rubbing his arms through the fabric to warm him up. “I’ll live. You, on the other hand, are about two minutes away from turning into a popsicle.”

Skylar wanted to protest, but the warmth of the jacket was so nice, and it smelled like Ace—like cologne and shampoo and something uniquely him.

“…Fine,” Skylar muttered, tugging it closer around himself. “But only because I don’t want you dating a human icicle.”

Ace let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s get back to the dorm before you freeze solid.”

Skylar didn’t argue with that.

—

By the time they made it back to their dorm, Skylar had finally stopped shivering, but he kept Ace’s jacket on anyway, half because he was still cold and half because he just liked having it on.

Ace noticed but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and plopped down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “You up for some homework?”

Skylar groaned dramatically as he flopped onto the couch beside him. “Not particularly.”

Ace smirked, pulling his laptop from his bag. “Too bad. We’re doing it.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He pulled out his sketchbook and flipped to the latest page he’d been working on—a series of figure studies for his art class.

Ace glanced over. “That the new project?”

“Yeah,” Skylar muttered, tapping his pencil against the paper. “We’re supposed to focus on movement and anatomy. It’s kicking my ass.”

Ace hummed. “It looks good to me.”

Skylar shot him a dry look. “You think everything I draw looks good.”

“Because it does. ”

Skylar huffed, but he could feel his face warming. Instead of responding, he looked at Ace’s laptop screen. “What about you? What’s today’s torture session for cosmetology?”

Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have to finish this assignment on hair texture and styling techniques. I also need to submit a practice video by the end of the week, which is a pain because I hate hearing my own voice on camera.”

Skylar snickered. “You? Camera-shy? Since when?”

“Since I have to actually explain something professionally,” Ace muttered, pulling up his notes. “It’s different when I’m just messing around. Now I have to sound like I actually know what I’m talking about.”

Skylar leaned in a little, peeking at the images Ace had pulled up—various hairstyles, cutting techniques, and styling guides. “You do know what you’re talking about,” he pointed out.

Ace glanced at him. “Doesn’t mean I like recording it.”

Skylar grinned. “Want me to stand behind the camera and make dumb faces at you?”

Ace snorted. “I swear you just want me to fail.”

“Never,” Skylar said, way too innocently.

Ace shook his head, amused, before turning back to his laptop. “Anyway, I’ll get to the video later. Right now, I just want to finish the written stuff.”

Skylar nodded and returned to his own work, occasionally sketching absentmindedly in the margins. The dorm was quiet aside from the sound of their pencils scratching against paper and Ace typing away at his keyboard.

Brownie, as always, had found his way onto the couch and was now curled up between them, his tiny paws twitching as he dreamed about whatever it was kittens dreamed about.

After a while, Skylar let out an exaggerated groan and let his head fall onto Ace’s shoulder. “I’m bored.”

Ace didn’t even glance up from his screen. “Then finish your assignment faster.”

“I can’t. My brain is fried.”

Ace rolled his eyes but didn’t push him off. “Take a break, then. Just don’t whine about it.”

Skylar smirked. “Whining is my love language.”

Ace huffed a quiet laugh. “Of course it is.”

Skylar grinned but didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just let himself relax against Ace’s shoulder, his pencil tapping lazily against the sketchbook in his lap.

Ace was deep in his work, typing away at his assignment while occasionally flicking through different tabs for reference images. His focus was sharp—at least, until movement from the corner of his eye pulled his attention away.

He glanced over and saw Skylar absentmindedly sketching in his notebook, pencil strokes light and fluid. At first, Ace thought he was just doodling random figures, but when he actually took a second to focus…

Oh.

Skylar was sketching him.

Ace’s fingers stilled against the keyboard. The drawings weren’t stiff or overly detailed, but they were him in different positions—sitting on the couch, leaning forward with his chin resting in his palm, stretching his arms overhead. And the weirdest part?

Skylar wasn’t even thinking about it. His gaze was distant, lost in thought, and his hand just moved as if sketching Ace was second nature to him.

Ace swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He had no idea why this was making his chest feel so… tight.

“Damn, that’s a good-looking model you’ve got there,” he teased, trying to shake off the weird feeling bubbling up inside him.

Skylar blinked, finally registering Ace’s voice, before his eyes flickered down to his own drawings. His face immediately went pink.

“Oh my God —” He slapped his notebook shut, like that would somehow erase what had already been seen. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Ace smirked, leaning in slightly. “Oh? And why not? I look great in those.”

Skylar groaned dramatically, shoving his notebook under a pillow like it was a crime scene. “They’re just random sketches. Not even good ones.”

Ace tilted his head. “I don’t know… I think they’re pretty good.”

Skylar squinted at him, suspicious. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

Ace grinned. “Is it working?”

Skylar rolled his eyes but let out a small laugh. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Ace shrugged. “Can’t help it if my boyfriend thinks I’m art-worthy.”

Skylar buried his face in his hands, clearly dying inside, but Ace could see the small smile peeking through his fingers.

Before Ace could tease him further, a soft meow caught their attention. Brownie had woken up, his tiny body stretching before he trotted across the couch and flopped dramatically onto Skylar’s lap.

Skylar immediately melted, scratching under the kitten’s chin. “Look who’s finally awake,” he cooed.

Brownie purred loudly, rubbing his face against Skylar’s hand before rolling onto his back, paws stretching lazily in the air.

Ace watched the scene with an amused smile. “He’s so spoiled.”

“And whose fault is that?” Skylar quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Ace scoffed. “Yours. Obviously.”

Skylar gasped in mock offense. “ Excuse me? You’re the one who feeds him treats for breathing. ”

They both laughed, the tension from earlier fading into something lighter, easier.

Ace wanted to keep it that way.

The calmness of the room was nice—almost too nice. The soft hum of the heater, the occasional scratch of Skylar’s pencil against his sketchbook, and Brownie’s tiny, sleepy purrs filled the silence in a way that should’ve been soothing.

But Ace felt like his skull was being split in two. His head pounded , a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes. He swallowed against the discomfort, exhaling through his nose, hoping the feeling would pass before Skylar noticed.

A soft groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

Skylar’s head turned slightly, brows furrowing in concern, but before he could say anything, Ace’s phone rang.

Saved.

Ace exhaled in relief and snatched his phone off the table, already grateful for whoever decided to call him at this exact moment.

His eyes flickered to the screen.

Oh. It was his brother.