"Stay here," Marco asked softly. He gave him small smile, trying to reassure him. Ace's nervousness was a bit unsettling, a sharp reminder of how young and inexperienced he was (in many ways).

Ace's lips were pressed into a thin line; He simply nodded curtly in response, his eyes very wide, never leaving Marco's gaze.

Marco pulled his hand away from Ace's and rose to his feet in a deliberately slow movement. "It's settled then. Let me see if I can find you some sheets and a pillow," he whirled around and trudged to the closet, Ace's gaze prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

He swallowed dryly and wished for a dreamless night, though he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to fall asleep with Ace just a few inches away from him.

…

The unfamiliar room startled him in the morning. Ace pushed himself into a sitting position and pulled his knees against his chest, his cheeks flared and his eyebrows furrowed together as the memories of the previous night returned to him. Numerous scenarios and concerns crossed his mind, from the ideal to the worst possibilities. He was so concentrated on himself that he hadn't even noticed Marco's absence.

"Are you okay?"

Marco's voice brought Ace back to reality. He shook his head momentarily and glanced back in the direction of the bathroom where Marco stood shirtless dressed in clean jeans with a towel wrapped around his neck, his hair still damp.

Ace averted his gaze quickly. "Yeah, I'm just…"

Just then, there was a knock on the door and a slight scratching on the wood. It steered Marco's attention away from him and Ace felt immensely relieved.

As he leisurely headed toward the door, Ace's eyes caught the slight movement of his hands curling into fists. He took a deep breath before unlocking the door. For a second, Ace wondered why he didn't ask who it was.

"Marco," a deep male voice calls. Ace can barely make out the other person's features but a face crosses his mind – the face of a carefree, one-armed, red-headed professor.

"I told you to stop showing up here," Marco said. One of his hands was planted on the wall just after the doorframe and the other grasped the door so tightly Marco's knuckles were white.

"Marco, I miss you," the professor admitted in a low voice. He imagined the professor's easy grins in class and he wondered if that was the expression he had on for Marco now. Which ones were real and which ones were fake, he wondered faintly.

His hand clasped Marco's arm, tried to push him inside but Marco stood his ground. "Leave. Now." Ace had never heard such anger in Marco's voice. He had a terrible sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Why? Do you have company?"

Ace tensed immediately, frozen in place suddenly both embarrassed and scared.

"That's really none of your business." With a swift, sudden motion, Marco pushed the other man out and away from him and shut the door.

There was no protest from the professor – only a low laugh and steps retreating.

Marco closed his eyes and sighed with a quick shake of his head. His shoulders slumped as if he was releasing all the tension from his body. Even Ace released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Dozens of questions swirled back and forth in his mind, but he settled for this one. "Why was Professor Shanks here?" It was a stupid question, he knew, but he couldn't just well ask what was really on his mind. Were you two involved? Are you still involved? For how long? Was it just sex or are you in love with him? That last question gave him chills and heat to his cheeks. Most importantly, though, Ace wanted to know what Marco felt about him and though earlier he was concerned and a nerve wreck, now he felt almost hurt, pessimistic, and bitter. It was selfish and unfair as neither of them had even admitted to any feelings, let alone be in a relationship. Perhaps, he should be mad at himself. His hopes, dreams, concerns were all just a result of his overactive imagination. His expectations were unrealistic and wishful, as all expectations were.

Marco frowned at the question and avoided looking into Ace's eyes. "It's nothing, and it's over now," he said. Marco looked over at Ace.

He simply nodded in response, in return avoiding Marco's gaze.

Silence fell between them as neither seemed to know what to say next, but it was a heavy, unbearable silence that made Ace want to scream. So, he motioned off the bed and gathered his things.

"I have class," he said quietly.

"Yes…" Marco said quickly. "I should go too," he added and stepped aside to let Ace pass, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The rest of the day was a blur for Ace. Classes, conversations... he heard the words, he participated, answered questions but at the end of the day he had only a vague memory of doing so.

Even now, sitting in the gardens in peace and quiet as he tried to focus on the book sitting open on his lap, his thoughts were drifting elsewhere.

Earlier, he'd texted Izo asking if Marco was at the lab. "Yeah, he's here" – came as a reply. "He's in a mood today and very distracted. I suggest you stay away." He did, but he had already planned to anyway. In truth, he had no reason to avoid Marco, or Marco him, but whenever he thought of calling or tried texting him, the words failed him. He didn't know how to go from being fairly certain Marco knew he liked him to something else (if Marco wanted something else, that is).

"You're Ace, right?" A warm hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice shook him back into focus. "Marco's friend?"

Ace stared up from his book, his eyes widening at the person who'd spoken to him. It was one of Marco's brothers. He couldn't recall his name but he'd seen him around enough times.

"Y-yes, I'm Ace."

"Finally," he grinned at him broadly, so nonchalantly that Ace couldn't help but smile back. "I've been looking all over the place for someone who can help me. Marco's not answering my calls and I really need to give this to him, do you know where he is?"

Marco's brother had a brown, cardboard box in his arms. He was dressed in a red and green uniform with a logo on the shirt that he didn't recognize.

"Yeah, he's in the lab. It's just by the—

"Actually, could you give this to him? I'm running late."

"Yeah, sure, don't worry about it." Well, that certainly was an opportunity to talk to him.

The package exchanged hands then and the two parted in different directions, Ace heading directly to the lab. He set out at a brisk pace and tried to prepare himself mentally. This was going to be an ordinary conversation so there was no need to be so nervous and sweating all over the place. He was just going to deliver a package, and after? He'd think of something, then.

By the time he reached the lab his palms were sweating profusely.

Ace let himself in, instead of knocking. He didn't trust his voice enough to speak yet. Marco was sitting slouched on a chair near the window, his feet on top of a small coffee table. His head was thrown back, staring at the ceiling except Ace could see his eyes were closed. He didn't think he was sleeping, though. A fairly empty ashtray was beside his feet along with an open book and a mug holding a hot beverage most likely coffee. It was a surprisingly familiar and ordinary sight.

Izo and Thatch were both working on their own projects. They exchanged glances but neither made a sound when they spotted him at the door, cheeks possibly flushed, sweat drops streaming down his neck and back and a package in his hands. Which in truth was also a familiar and ordinary sight. They both decided, though, that it would be better to remove themselves from that room as quickly and quietly as possible - and stay out at least for the next thirty minutes.

Alright, he took a deep breath, this is it.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears so loud he could barely make out the sounds of his footsteps as he approached Marco. He could smell the faint aroma of Izo's chocolate cigarettes and Thatch's newest bubbling concoction.

"Marco?"

His eyes snapped open and he immediately shifted positions, sitting straighter, dropping his feet from the table. He stole a quick glimpse at Ace before his gaze fell. "Hey," he murmured. From that angle, the circles under his eyes looked darker, more marked in contrast with the shade of his skin.

Ace felt a question rising in his throat, one that he couldn't bear to shove down. "Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice, all of his previous nerves gone and replaced with concern and an overwhelming awareness of the silence all around them. "Marco," he called again louder, his hands' grasp tightening on the box.

"What's that?" The other asked without looking at Ace.

Ace's lips pressed into a thin line, irked that Marco had avoided his question. "Your brother brought it," he said and went to drop the box at the table in front of him, and while he was there he might as well pull up a chair to sit and force Marco to look at him.

Marco ignored him and grabbed the box, placing it on his lap as he worked on unwrapping it. His brows were furrowed together in concentration and there was a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"What is it?"

"It's an old family spell book. When I asked for it my brother told me he didn't know where it was," he pulled out the book, pushing the package to the floor with a nudge of his elbow. Marco grinned then, broadly and unabashedly, with wrinkling around his eyes. Ace couldn't help but smile back.

He'd seen enough of old books to know that wasn't one, though the elaborate carvings on the red-leather cover were beautiful and resembled the old-style books. "He made you a copy," Ace mused as soft as a whisper. Marco nodded.

"Marco," Ace repeated, softly, trying not to alarm the other or ruin the moment. "Listen, I—

"Wait, l need to say something about this morning," his voice was suddenly very serious.

"No, Marco." Ace shook his head. "You don't have to." Ace didn't know what he'd been thinking earlier, Marco didn't owe him any explanations… even if he did want to know.

"But I want to," he said, his hands still clutching the book tightly in his lap. "That guy this morning…" he paused, his eyes dropped to the floor. "It happened twice and it didn't mean anything to me, but he still shows up sometimes..."

Marco's gaze leveled with his, his brows in a frown and his lips pressed together. Ace was quiet for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. "…thank you, for telling me that," he muttered.

They were both quiet, and though he wanted to say something, the silence wasn't entirely uncomfortable. It was somewhat peaceful, actually.

His gaze was steady on Marco's when he spoke. "Do you… want to get some pizza?"

Marco smiled.