god i'm. the world's slowest updater. i'm so sorry, guys, and i'm even more sorry for the cliffhanger! i hope you enjoy.
Ace feels nervous and a bit jittery on his way to Marco's home. There was a bit of sardonic amusement in Marco's tone over the phone, when he told Ace to head over his place and hang with Thatch. He liked Thatch plenty, especially after hearing Marco's stories about him and especially the soft sort of voice just laden with affection when regarding him. He's nice and seems fun, but the fact that he was requested just gives him a bit of anxiety.
He parks the truck and lights a smoke, bringing it down to the bust before he hops down and bounces in. Walking through the door as he was told, Thatch is bustling around the kitchen, humming along to some music playing from his phone and mixing something.
Thatch smiles in a way that reaches his eyes when he turns around to see Ace, "Hey, what's up. Marco was called in, so its just you and me for a bit."
"Oh, okay. That's fine." Ace says.
"Grab a beer, if you want. I'm just making cake, 'cause I had this real bad craving for yellow cake with chocolate frosting, you know?" he says. Ace notes that he has his hair back, today, pulled into a bun at the back of his head.
"Oh, word. Can I help any?" Ace reaches into the fridge to grab one of the green bottles, popping it open and swigging.
"I need two cups of powdered sugar in that bowl over there, if you wanna do the frosting." he says, changes stride, "You seem a bit jittery."
"Jesus, you and Marco can read me like an open book or something." he says sourly, but goes to find the powdered sugar, "And you, like, just met me."
"Pay attention to how you're walking, buddy, you look like a cat with its fur all puffed out. Any reason why?"
"Dunno." he shrugs. Thatch hums a bit, telling Ace that he knows its bullshit, that he does know what's putting a shake in his step.
Ace measure out the powdered sugar, dumping it all in the bowl. He opens his mouth and closes it. Thatch notices, fills the silence.
"When I was little, my ma insisted that I make everything from scratch. Old fashioned stick-up-her-ass kind of lady, yeah?" he snorts and shakes his head a bit, but there's fondness there, "So she'd probably be flipping her shit if she saw me with this mix."
"Hey, at least the frosting is from scratch."
"Put in a cup of cocoa and a bit of vanilla, like half a tablespoon." he instructs. He's pouring the cake batter into a pan, "She'd be like, 'Thaaaatch at least pretend like I raised you decent and make that cake the right way'."
Thatch says it with a voice that makes Ace snicker, and he goes about doing as he'd told him. Ace is glad that he's easy to talk to, that he's leading the conversation. He finishes off the frosting with Thatch's instructions.
"Dadan - my guardian - was never really like that, I guess. Sometimes we did nice things like that together, but … Eh. Its more common that I do that with my brothers."
"Brothers, huh?"
"Yup. Marco asked me about 'em, too." he tells Thatch what he told Marco, pretty much. That Luffy and Sabo mean a lot to him, that they're also huge nerds. Thatch had hopped up on the counter with his beer, listening, while the cake bakes.
"Love a family man, honestly. Hits me right here." he thumps a fist against his chest, "Real important to me."
"Yeah, Marco told me as much."
Thatch snickers around the rim of his bottle, swallowing some before saying, "You mention him a lot already. You like him?"
"No offense, but you sound like a middle schooler." he goes, "But am I that transparent?"
He looks down at his feet, small grin spread out.
"Yeah, a bit." Thatch says, "But, hey, we don't have to talk about this if you don't wanna. I'm pretty much a stranger. However,"
He holds up a finger and continues, "There are better ways to get to know a person than grilling one another about crushes and what-have-you."
"Such as?"
"Smoking a bowl, my dude, smoking a bowl. You can learn loads about a person by their smoking rituals and slang and how they are when they're high."
Thatch hops down and Ace follows him into Marco's living room, where they both sink into the couch. Ace thinks that Thatch is a funny sort of guy, someone who probably tells amazing stories, someone who makes the most mundane happenings sound like hilarious adventures. He respects that a lot. He's leaning forward to pick apart the bud over the coffee table, tongue sticking out.
"I don't have anything to throw down." Ace admits.
"Its cool, I got you." Thatch affords him a funny sort of smile, like he's impressed with something that Ace can't figure out, "You get greens. If I can get this thing fucking packed."
"You're a gentleman."
"And a scholar."
Once the bowl is packed, Thatch hands that and a lighter off to Ace. They trade hits for a bit in silence and finally sit back against the couch. Thatch then fills that silence with idle chatter about it ( "Bongs or bowls?" ).
"One time, Sabo and I tried to make green dragon. He was so insistent on it, like. He has this weird thing with dragons. So we did everything right, it took like a couple weeks for it to turn the right color." Ace gestures with his hands, high creeping up on him, "So me and Sabo drink it, Luffy wasn't interested. We were waiting for it to hit, and when it did we were just …"
He laughs, "Gone? Like, we tried watching a couple movies, had no idea what was going on. Same thing when we tried to play Gauntlet. Luffy actually has a couple videos of us trying to play."
"Oh man, I've never actually tried that stuff. Now I wanna make it."
Just as he had with Marco, Ace and Thatch take one another through stories of similar exploits. The conversation comes easily to them, even after cake, and Ace feels most of his trepidation fade away as they go.
They go about their day in such a manner, talking through movies and a serious case of the munchies - madness of two.
Marco arrives some time in the evening.
He opens the door a bit hard and closes it a bit harder and strides into the living room. Looking absolutely beat, he looks between the two seated on the couch and settles on Thatch.
"Can I talk to you privately?" it comes out a bit more like a demand than a polite request, and it makes hot dread drop in Ace's stomach. Thatch furrows his brows some and stands to comply. They then take the short walk into Marco's bedroom, door shut tight behind them.
The next couple minutes are absolute agony for Ace.
They're talking about me. I know they are. They hate me and they're going to yell at me and make fun of me -
He picks at his cuticles in a nervous sort of way, staring down hard at his lap, eyes wide and unfocused, unseeing. Ace zones out like this, thinking a horrible and anxious mantra of 'they hate me they hate me they hate me' until they come out.
When they do, Marco runs a hand through his hair as he stands there a couple yards away and sighs.
"Were you guys talking about me?" Ace blurts out before he can stop himself, and Marco gives him a funny look.
"No. Sorry about that, I'm just." he sighs again, and everything about his countenance screams 'rough day', "Not really good right now."
"Can I … Ask what's wrong?" comes his voice, and Marco looks to the side, towards Thatch. Thatch shifts his weight over one hip, putting a hand on that same hip. If Marco's appearance says rough day, then Thatch's says anxiety to match. That's a bit unexpected, in a guy like him; he, who seems so easy going, so roll-with-the-punches.
"Bad day. Really bad day, really fucking …" Marco runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, "I'll be ok, I just wanna get out of here. You can come if you want, we're going out."
Ace lets it sink in, sucks on his lip a little.
"Sure." he wants to see Marco better, wants to hear from his own mouth why he's feeling bad, "Where are we going?"
Thatch takes over, "This little hole-in-the-wall diner. Owner is queer illuminati, name's Namur. Wanna get going?"
"Yeah, sounds good to me." Ace says, and he stands to follow the two. Marco walks ahead of them and still seems sour, a bit antsy. Ace falls into alignment with them, continuing to pick at his cuticles to broadcast his nervousness. Despite this very nervousness, something stays his legs in time with the other two. Concern, some sort of protectiveness that seems a little surprising.
Its a flurry of emotions all clattercrash in his brain that makes him want to sit down.
He lights a cigarette in Thatch's car; Marco sits in the back with Ace, which makes the former laugh. Thatch does not see Marco grasp Ace's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly momentarily.
This sets a lot of Ace's fears and trepidation at ease; all the same, that worry claws out from the inside of his chest, "You're gonna be ok?"
"Yeah." he sticks his fingers out towards Ace, a wordless request for the cigarette, "I mean. I got called in, and there was a trashed room I had to clean up for starters, and someone got hurt in our bathroom. Ambulances. Threatened to sue. Owner yelled at me for both of those things for about … twenty minutes?"
"Fuck, dude." Ace goes, "That blows."
"Tell me about it. I've been out of it and kind of anxious all day as baseline and that just topped it all off and I got … Worse, and wanted to relapse." he makes a motion like knocking back a shot, laughs, "Still do."
"Nope!" Thatch chirps, "Not an option, dude."
Thatch turns a right on red and keeps cruising.
"I know, Thatch." Marco murmurs, touching gently an emotion that Ace can't quite place. Its soft and quiet and maybe just a little regretful.
"Well … I'm here. Not sure if that counts as some sort of comfort for you, though." Ace grins wry and Marco squeezes his hand again, hands him back the cigarette. Don't be silly, his look says.
"Of course it is. I'm glad you're here, Ace."
"Are you two being gay back there?" Thatch asks, loudly.
"Shut the fuck up."
They end up bickering the whole ride there, and there's something in this bickering that Ace finds both hilarious and … homey. It reminds him of himself and his own brothers.
Its nice to see Marco's mood picking up even just a little bit, anyway.
They drive down through the town to the neighboring one, all evening-sleepy once its been run through from rush hour traffic. Thatch parks along the sidewalk once they get there; there's a strip along the road maybe ten stores and such long. The diner has an odd don't-see-that-every-day sort of name - Coral Hill.
The three climb out of the car and inside the place. Its busy, but not filled to capacity, but once the rather large man behind the counter sees them he raises a hand in greeting.
"I'll be there in a minute, guys." he calls.
The cute waitress smiles at the trio, "Hi Marco, Thatch. Who's your friend?"
"I'm Ace. Its a pleasure to meet you." he sticks out his hand for a handshake, which she returns.
"Caimie! And likewise. I'll show you to your seats."
She takes their drink orders once they're seated, and shortly thereafter the man from behind the counter comes to greet them. Ace introduces himself again, and the other does as well; his name is Namur.
"This the guy I heard about, then." Namur says and he nods, slight smile. Ace looks between Marco and Thatch and matches Namur's smile.
"Yeah, guess so. Its nice to meet you, I'm Ace."
"Namur. Hope you're taking care of my brothers just fine."
"I like to think I am. They're taking care of me too, so." Ace says, and the other two laugh. Thatch winks at Ace once their eyes meet and the latter of the two shrinks a little where he sits, a flush coming to his cheeks.
"All right, sounds good to me. I'll be seeing you at Pops' place, right?" He asks Ace, but looks from him to Marco thereafter.
"Don't see why not, if Ace wants to go."
"Oh. I'd like that, I think." Ace says, nods.
"Right. I look forward to it. I better get back in, though; there's a trainee back there who needs help flipping omelets and I don't want a mess on my hands too bad."
"All right, see you, man." Thatch says.
Namur parts from them and Ace rests his elbows on the table (like a heathen). He yawns a little, looks through the menu, which he notices Marco and Thatch abstain from.
"I'm telling you, man. All you need is loaded fries." Thatch tells him, and points.
"Nah. Get one of the wraps."
This makes them start to bicker again, which Ace finds so funny his laughter gives them pause. Its contagious to them, it seems, and when he looks up the both of them are affording him fond looks that make him flush more.
They're nice, he thinks. He's finding that they're probably the kind of crowd he's always really wanted to run with, instead of the pricks he'd befriended before, or his little brothers' friends. Its sort of homey, but its not something he'd tell them. Not yet, feels too early to him. So he stays his tongue and just hopes he can really get to know them both and all.
"Are you feeling any better?" Ace asks, hopeful.
"Some, yeah." Marco says, rubs at the stubble on his chin. "Might be nice to go to the arcade down the block. Like we used to."
"You think that's the best place to go to? Given how we used to be there." Thatch sounds just barely nervous; maybe its more like concerned. Ace wonders what he means, looking towards Marco.
"Its fine. Not gonna trigger anything." Marco enunciates, then glances at Ace, "We used to get fucked up on pills or whatever and just hang out around here like fucking hooligans. Frequented the arcade a lot."
"This guy is a straight demon at DDR. Especially when he's, like, rolling face."
Ace nods, face neutral even though the other two snicker, in that private sort of way. Ace wonders about Marco's past as far as drugs and alcohol. He can't say he doesn't know much about the man, thankfully, but there's still some dark spots that he'd like to be filled in.
Caimie comes back with their drinks and then takes their food orders, and she's off again.
Thatch picks up his phone shortly thereafter and reads what Ace assumes is a text. A grin pulls at his lips and he texts whoever back.
"Izo said Haruta's benefit is in a couple months. He said Haruta's over the moon with it." He says, and he rests his chin on his hand, elbow on the table; his smile is peaceful, thankful, and he closes his eyes for an extra beat, "I'm so happy for them."
"Oh, shit, they finally booked it? Found a good venue?" Marco sounds excited and therefore Ace becomes intrigued.
"Yeah, man. It's happenin'."
"Benefit?" Ace asks.
"Yeah. Its for their bottom surgery. They've been … Y'know, dysphoric. So this'll be great for them." Thatch's grin spreads wider on his face. Ace is happy for Haruta, too, but in a detached sort of way - oh, good for them.
A part of him, a very small and ugly and dark part of him, pulses jealousy all true and shocking in his chest. He does his best to push it down, swallowing some of his coke.
"I'm really glad, then." He says, relieved that it doesn't come out tasting like a lie.
As they eat, as they talk, and as they subsequently leave, Ace notices that Marco's mood gradually seems to lift.
Ace finds himself happy at that, relieved. Being around people he likes who happen to be pissed off makes him even more anxious, like they're going to reject or snap on him. Its not a pleasant feeling.
Ace walks between them to the arcade, and he considers holding onto Marco's hand again. He doesn't, but finds that the feeling he had when they did hold hands is something he wants to have again. Maybe soon.
When they get inside, Marco makes a beeline right for the Dance Dance Revolution machine, making Thatch laugh out, "Oh no, here we go."
"Wanna go against me? Either one of you?" Marco asks, and Ace volunteers.
"Get ready to get wrecked, Ace." Thatch calls out, and Ace frowns. He's actually pretty good at DDR, but …
He does, indeed, get absolutely wrecked. Marco looks entirely zoned out to the game, brows furrowed, eyes trained on the screen, tapping out the rhythm with quick movements. His loss might actually be sort of funny if it weren't so embarrassing. Ace didn't give up during the dance, of course, but Marco was just miles ahead.
"Holy shit, how."
"Cocaine." is all Marco says, shoulders coming up in a shrug. Ace just blinks up at the taller man, unsure of what to say that. He snickers, comes to press a kiss to his forehead. Ace feels himself light up like a lantern and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face even if he tried; he looks over to see a smirk on Thatch's features.
"Do you guys wanna play spider stomp? I haven't seen that game in any other arcade, its like fuckin' christmas for me right now." Thatch asks.
The trio hops from game to game, earning tickets and a total collective lift of their moods. Ace turns out to be much better at Tekken than DDR, absolutely tromping the other two, though Thatch sinks shot after shot in the basketball game, and the mastery over this machine is met with loud a loud exclamation of, "GOOOOOOOAAAAALLLL!"
Ace slaps their tickets down on the counter and looks back at Marco and Thatch, "How much candy can we get with this, you think?"
"One metric fuckton."
"Really? I would've thought at least half an assload."
Grinning, Ace just pushes the tickets forward to the slightly incredulous-looking girl behind the counter; she then takes them to put them in the counting machine. Their amount of tickets ends up getting them taffy, light up necklaces, and a couple cheap fabric flowers with cartoonish grins and wires in the stems.
"Good haul, good haul." Marco says, bops Ace on the forehead with his flower as they're all on their way out, "I think … Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better. Gotta thank you both for that."
"No problem."
"Yeah, man, ain't no thing." Thatch goes, bopping Marco in kind, "I'm just glad you're square."
"So, we headed back to my place?" he then asks.
"Don't see why not."
So off they go, and once they're back in the car, Marco seats himself closer to Ace than before. There's a slight smile on his face, all soft and pretty, when he looks at him, and Ace bumps him with his shoulder, laughing lowly under his breath.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he mumbles, and Marco bumps him back, doesn't say anything for a moment.
"I'm just thankful. You didn't have to come with us, and I would have understood if calming me down were to be a bit … Much, but you were there. So thank you, Ace." Marco takes Ace's hand again and he lets him, looking from him down to his lap. He matches Marco's smile, soft and small.
"Its no problem. Really. I'm just glad you're ok."
"Well shit, now, don't mind me." Thatch snorts, "Third wheel doesn't matter, I guess."
"Thatch."
"I'm joking, I'm joking." he says gently, raising a hand in surrender from where he drives. Marco rolls his eyes. Ace doesn't mind the intrusion so much; in fact, he was feeling like he might've been making Thatch uncomfortable, so the interruption is a bit welcome, even if he'd like to be close and touching Marco again …
As they drive, Ace falls into daydreaming again. He's resolved on asking him out on a date, and he thinks tonight might be the night to ask. Where, though, he hasn't figured out yet.
"Dude. Grocery run." Thatch says, out of the blue, looking back to Marco, who just nods.
"Grocery run." repeats Ace.
"Yes, grocery run."
Marco scoffs at Thatch, being unhelpful, and explains, "Its just for munchies. We tend to get in this bind every time we smoke where we get couch-locked and can't fucking move to get to the car and get whatever we're craving."
"Oh. Yeah, all right."
Thatch begins rattling off a list of what he wants exactly, despite having just eaten a little while ago. When Marco calls him out on that fact, he just tells him he worked up an appetite watching Ace's ass get kicked at DDR.
They get to the grocery store shortly thereafter, and Marco takes the cart to lead them through the place. Its nice to do this, Ace decides; he figures most anything with them would be easy and nice.
"Hey. Ice cream cake." Marco says, once they're in the freezer section; a bit of excitement touches his tone.
"Oh, fuck yes." Thatch goes, wiggling his fingers towards the cooler, "Get that oreo one."
"I'm so down."
Marco picks out the oreo cake and places it among the rest of the food, then eyeing over the haul. He looks back towards his companions, shooting a thumbs up.
"Looks good to me. Anything else you guys need, or can we go to checkout?"
"Oh, uh. You guys can go to checkout, I'm gonna run to grab some sushi really quick and I'll come find you." Ace says. Thatch's eyes light up and Marco nods, pushing the cart towards the registers.
"Grab me a california roll too, would you?"
"Of course."
"Thaaaanks, doll."
Ace parts from them to head to the other side of the store, quick pace. Once he gets to the sushi, he picks out what he wants, as well as the california roll for Thatch.
There's a deep voice behind him, though, that makes him turn, "Ace?"
Once he registers who it is, a bright smile makes its way across his face. Its been a minute since they've seen one another, but Smoker looks as handsome as ever, and there's a rare sort of grin on his features, one that Ace never got to see too often, back when they were closer.
"Been a while, Smoker." Ace says.