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Dragging 2D around the busy airport at 5 AM wasn’t the problem. Maybe the three bags of luggage and carry-on was. Even if Ace had volunteered to take all of the bags (minus one tote bag, currently held by 2D himself), he was glad when they finally got to the terminal. He drops the bags carelessly on the ground with a thump.
“Stu? How ya doing, Stu?” Ace nudges the boy, half-asleep and leaning on the green man’s shoulder. He wakes with a start.
“Wha…? Fine! Fine, ‘m tired…” he trails off, eyelids drooping. He loses his grip on the tote bag and it falls to the floor. Ace chuckles, leading the boy to one of the seats in the waiting area.
“Wait here with the luggage, okay? I’m gonna get us something to eat. Save your sleeping for the flight! We got 8 hours to New York,” Ace kisses the lethargic boy on the cheek, patting it softly before making his way to the food court, feeling guilty about leaving the boy behind, but knowing he couldn’t really journey any further.
When 2D wakes, Ace is sitting by his side, taking soups and bowls of pasta out of a paper bag.
“Mmm? For me, Ace?” He mumbles, sitting slightly up in his chair.
“Of course. You barely ate before we left, love,” Ace replies warmly, bringing his hand up to feel 2D’s forehead, frowning, “and you’re warm.”
“I feel chilly,” 2D sighs, crossing his arms for warmth, “could I have some soup?”
“Anything for you, dear,” Ace moves to the chair over to use the chair in between them as a table, setting the creamy soup down and unwrapping the spoon. When Ace looks back up at 2D, his eyes are barely open. Ace pats his thigh.
2D rubs the sleep out of his eyes and reaches for the spoon, and as soon as Ace realizes that he’s far too tired to feed himself, he hums. As 2D is about to start eating, Ace reaches for the spoon to feed him. In response, the boy suddenly flinches, eyes opening wide, flashing white briefly. He closes his eyes and grimaces.
“S-sorry…”
“What was that?” Ace tilts his head, shocked. He lowers the spoon, trying to read the boy’s face.
“I-I… sorry, Ace, jus’ an instinct. I thought you were gonna hit me.” The boy looks down apologetically, hands in between his knees. Ace’s thoughts are racing.
“Stuart, you… you know I would never hit you, right? That I would never hurt you?”
No response. 2D looks still tired, but frightened. Ace sighs, and slowly reaches for the boy’s hands, taking them in his.
“I would never hit you, baby. I would never even think about doing such a thing. Do you understand me? Look at me.”
2D raises his head, looks at their fingers intertwined, then analyzes the sincerity written all over Ace’s face. He was right. He believed him.
“I know, Ace, ‘m sorry, I don’t even know why I…” he tries to ignore the knowing look on his boyfriend’s face, in favor of averting his attention to the food, “can you… can you feed me? Please?”
Ace’s face immediately softens. “Sure, honey.”
Sure, people stare, but nothing compares to the feeling of joy 2D gets when Ace jokingly says “here comes the airplane!” 2D happily lets Ace feed him, and after they’re done, he falls asleep in his boyfriend’s lap. Ace has never felt so at peace.
(When they land in New York, Ace has to kindly remind 2D that it’s New York, and that the yellow part of an egg is called the yolk, and that they didn’t name New York after an egg.)