Chapter Text
This all happened too quickly and despite his natural tendency to lead a busy, tempest-like life, Rook is beyond stunned at this very moment. Yes, it is true that he has been eyeing a fellow operator for some weeks. He often had a chat about the certain Norwegian with his defending colleagues, but always mentioned that his admirations were platonic and respectful. Mozzie preached about the time when he met his wife and how he asked her hand for a dance (and Gridlock added that the man’s legs were shaking like a newborn lamb.) Bandit said he didn’t have any trouble finding someone to get laid with, because a few jugs of beer did the charm. Rook knew why they were so eager to tell him about their love stories, but he didn’t want any trouble, especially due to the tension that brewed between the leading individuals at Rainbow and Nighthaven.
Ace was nothing like what Rook expected him to be. He had a prejudice against the infamous private military company, and assumed them to be the gloomy and secretive kind. That image began to chip away when Ace joined in a year after Kali and Wamai, and with Aruni’s arrival months later, Rook figured out that Nighthaven was more of a group with their own stories. Whatever that story may be, he decided not to judge, and such a decision was surely influenced by how easy Ace made himself approachable.
From their first coincidental encounter at a local fast food chain, to a blooming friendship of casual night time bike rides. Rook hadn’t met someone who shared his vibes, the undulating energy and passion for the world around them. They clicked and any interactions with Ace filled Rook’s heart with wonders. It was almost like catching a sight of a shooting star; sparkling, magical and a wish-come-true. The feelings he had was more than a general attraction, but he held them back, in case Ace didn’t feel quite the same. They were almost like Romeo and Julien, minus any clarity on Ace’s perception of Rook. He wasn’t about to ruin their friendship.
But the feelings grew and it bled through the clumsy mask that he hardly had to wear in his lifetime. Mozzie and Bandit urgee Rook to confess, and Rook deflected them by saying that Ace’s opinions should be respected as well.
“Son, I’m telling you,” Mozzie couldn’t hide his frustration, “just step up and tell him how you feel. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“It’s okay. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” Rook shrugged as he zipped up the remaining armour pack. The mission ended with a defeat, but his mind kept trailing back to the cheeky wink Ace shone at him after the match. They had so much to talk about tonight at dinner.
Bandit had finished collecting the jumper cables and dumped the damaged batteries into his portable toolbox. He tapped on Mozzie’s back and stared down at Rook. “Alright, then. It’s your business,” there was a brief pause before Mozzie took a look at Rook once more before he slipped away to collect the remnants of his own gadgets. Bandit offered to carry one of Rook’s duffle bags, and as they walked towards the exit, the older nudged the younger by the ribs. “Say, are you still free on the fourteenth?”
“Depends.” Rook didn’t have any particular plan, but was thinking of making one with Ace who was also solo riding through the festive season of love. They could venture down by the club to tour around everything that’s love-heart themed.
“You should come,” With his helmet and visor still on, it was hard to see the kind of face that Bandit was making, “your cute Tik Toker is also going to be there.”
Or Rook could join this little party that Bandit had been talking about for some time. He said it was supposed to be the loners’ union, a dedicated intoxication station for those who had no one else to cling on. It was quite a surprise that Ace had agreed to be at such a gathering, given that the man held some pride in being irresistible to many. “Oh yeah?” He coughed to smooth out the surge of enthusiasm.
“Yes. Come over, why don’t you? Trace and Aruni will be there too.”
He had no reason to decline, since it sounded like a lively party. It was obvious that Thermite was going to bring other operators like Castle and whoever got along well with him, and Aruni had this air about her that made people feel at ease. It sounded like a great opportunity for him to mingle with Ace in a casual setting, and he thrived in social gathering. “Alright then. It’s the sixth container box, right?”
“Yup. Don’t thank Harry - thank me. I had to fight for it.”
Since they all moved to Greece, they also had to use ships for a transfer. It contained large tools and engineering equipment that couldn’t be travelled on air, so inevitably the Rainbow bought these massive steel boxes for storage and other uses. Some were used to build the field for their tournament, and some were left vacant as spares. They were free of use for work-related purposes, so Rook could only imagine how Bandit ‘persuaded’ Harry and Zero.
That was the gist of their conversation a week ago. Rook had a chat with Ace about the party, and the excitement acted as a fuel for both men to push through the day’s job. He brought a collection of cheese and saw Ace carrying a bouquet-full of potato crisps. Junk, fatty food duo. Anything can be forgiven in the name of great taste.
Upon entering the container, the place was far off from being empty and desolate with metallic surroundings. The lightning came from cheap LED wires, and that was the only source of white in this room. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that everything else was mindnumbingly pink. Floor was a wool carpet of light maroon, walls were fluttering with pastel salmon curtains. There hung heart decorations which were mostly made out of paper and balloons. The ceiling had a faint smell of hot-pink acrylic and a foldable long table was also coloured in the same paint, and it held two jugs with some kind of liquid in each.
Ace walked in and took one of the jugs to smell. “Is this a- juice? Smells citrusy.”
Rook took the other and could instantly sense alcohol. “I think this one’s a rosé.”
They swept around the area and found a sofa with flamingo patterns, and a chiller bin. It wasn’t a surprise to find it in a shade of pink, but the content also had an array of food that’s in the similar hue. Shaved ham, smoked salmon, bread buns that he assumed to be baked with beetroot juice, marshmallows and peaches. Judging by the amount, Rook figured there would be more guests to turn up. That’s why he was surprised to find the door shut behind them. Ace didn't seem to notice what happened until he read the confusion on Rook’s face, and when he pulled the handle, it refused to budge at all.
This is the moment that has Rook frozen on the spot. He looks around to find a gap that allows fresh air, and thankfully there are some sizable holes that won’t render them breathless until the rescue arrives. Ace suggests putting the jugs elsewhere and breaking the leg of the table to use it as a make-shift crowbar, so they set out to smash the table against the floor.
“I hope Eliza won’t get mad at us for property damages.” Rook smiles while holding one end of the flipped foldable table.
“Well, I don't think she's any worse than my boss.” Ace has his foot on the metallic frame, ready to step down and snap it. “This feels weirdly fun. Kinda like an escape room game, yeah?”
Rook can’t help but to feel antsy with the situation that they are put under, so he is thankful to have someone like Ace giving him a sense of humour and assurance. “Maybe. I bet Dominic has something to do with this.”
“Maybe I do.”
Speak of the devil. Both men whip their heads around to find where the voice is coming from, but it’s hard to see anything when they are standing in the middle of a pink-a-holic’s psyche.
“Here, you dumbos.”
They hear it clearly from above, and it’s from one of the holes that Rook assumed to be for ventilation. He steps on the couch and tiptoes up to see a small lens, and it gives a faint click and whir. The camera must also have a speaker attached to it, because he can also hear the faint static of an active gadget. Rook steps down and frowns. “Dom, what’s going on here?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Yeah, nothing’s really going on when it should be!” Someone must be shouting into the mic, because Rook can’t help but to wince at the sheer volume.
“Is that Max? You’re a bit too loud, mate.” Ace stands next to Rook and stares at the small hole as well.
“Don’t ‘mate’ me, you little punk.” The way Mozzie speaks makes it quite easy to imagine the expression he wears.
“Okay, can you tell me what’s really going on?” Rook folds his arms and he expects an acceptable answer. There’s a slight cold sweat forming on the nape of his neck after learning that Bandit and Mozzie trapped him and love interest in confinement, and his secret is at their mercy to remain unrevealed. Rook wants to believe that the pranksters won’t stoop that low, but he can never understand the chaotic duo and their intentions.
“Sorry Julien.” Another voice comes forth. “It won’t be too bad. I promise.”
And her words seem to throw Ace off. “Apha? What’re you doing there? Stop fooling around and tell the boys to let us out.” He is still smiling, and it stretches wider upon seeing Rook staring at him.
“No can do. We’ve got a job here.” The slight drawl is the dead giveaway. “We’ve told you so many times, Howie. But you didn’t listen.”
“It’s Håvard, Jordan. Or am I going to say Yor-dan?” The name sounds quite different in Norwegian pronunciation, so Rook joins in to give it a French twist. They continue to tease Thermite’s with his name until a sharp cough deafens their ears.
“Goose speaking here. We’re going to play a game.” After a few rustles and bumps, he lets out a string of swear words and vaguely whispers at whoever may be standing next to him. “-swear to God, these wankers,”
“We can hear you.” Rook taps his foot.
Rustling becomes more frequent and even more hushing fills the audio. “Okay. I’ll explain until Max finds a way to calm himself down.” Aruni sighs and clears her throat. “We will send you questions to ask each other, and it’ll be like a game of ‘truth or dare.’ You know the drill; you guys take turns in asking and answering, but if you don’t want to ask or answer, you must do the dare that we suggest. The questions will be sent to your phone, so we’re giving you some privacy if you choose not to ask the questions we send.”
“Oh, what makes you say that we're agreeing to play along?” Ace takes one look at the table and nods at Rook, who understands the message to resume their positioning to recreate the third-grade crowbar. They aren’t going to be stuck here and entertain their colleagues.
“Listen here, you vandals. Not that I’m scolding you for wrecking havoc down there,” Bandit resumes the control of the mic, “in fact, I’m quite proud of you going ham. But here’s the thing - we won’t let you out until you answer or do the dare. And try not to break any other stuff, because I can’t have Cohen coming after my ass. So I suggest you play along and we all win something here tonight.”
“Yeah, Howie. Don’t get any funny ideas.” Thermite can be heard gloating. “It’s not that hard. Just answer the questions and we’re all swell.”
“I will see you guys outside.” Rook holds onto the table and with a few twists and turns from Ace, they manage to break the leg. It looks more like a deformed pipe, but Ace doesn’t find a problem pushing the sharper end to wedge it between the gap of the entrance. Rook watches with admiration and awe, but he soon realises that the pipe is too soft to serve its purpose as a crowbar, and the container has multiple joints to be locked tight. After a few fruitless attempts, he soon gives up and takes a sip of grapefruit juice to cool himself down. Despite the failure, Rook still appreciated Ace’s attempt, no matter how foolish he looked with such a constant grin.
“I hope this is not spiked.” Ace lifts up the jug to see if there is any powdery residue on the bottom.
“Who do you think we are? Ankle-biters. Mind your manners.” Mozzie cannot be polite for once in his life.
“Do you realise that you’re the shortest out of us all?” Ace rolls his eyes and passes the jug to Rook.
“Watch your fucking language you lanky cun-”
“Alright, I hope we’ve reached an understanding here!” Aruni cuts in, “there’s only five questions each for both of you, so it’s not too bad, okay?”
“But the trick is that you gotta give us five answers. Dares don’t count.” The audio rustles again, which Rook can guess that the other side is just a bunch of people trying to gain dominance over who can have their last say.
“Seems like we don’t have much choice here.” Rook sighed and took a sip of the juice. Tangy and refreshing; the taste comes to him like a breeze, and this new surge allows him to feel like he can handle anything.
“I guess so,” Ace flips the table over, folds the remaining legs and places the jugs on the flat surface. He also pulls out the pack of smoked salmon and lets the whole strip fall into his mouth. Chewing thoroughly and swallowing full, he goes to hold the jug of rosé and asks, “can I lip this?”
Rook has no complaint about that. None at all. “Yeah.”
Ace looks down at the smooth curve of the jug and looks at Rook with a slight grin. “I think you should have the first sip. You’re the wine guy.”
“Well-” Rook already feels the heat on his face and he hasn’t had the wine yet. Not even a single drop in his mouth.
“Oh my gosh, Jordan. They’re so cute.”
A lone whisper puts a crack on his mood, and the giggling from above deforms his mellow warmth into an embarrassed blush. To regain the confidence, Rook takes a large gulp and the bitterness wakes him up on the spot. He needs to get out of here as soon as possible, before the pranksters decides to say things against his favour. “Fine! Get going with the questions.”
“Okay. We will send one to Håvard!”
A second later, Ace pulls out his phone to read what is sent to him. His face lights up, “hey, this is easy. Alright, Juls,” he appears quite giddy, “how far back into my Instagram have you crept?”
That one is easy indeed, because Rook had ventured down the massive collection of Ace’s Instagram and liked every single one of the posts. They had a chat about it and Rook showered the man with compliments, and also joked about how they could take pictures of their stomachs together and name it ‘abs-olute.’ “I think you know the answer already.”
“Yeah. He did see all the way back to my first post!” Ace pumps his fist towards that little peephole that has been spying on them. “Keep them coming!”
Rook breathes in and catches the sight of ham slices. He pops one in and starts to rip a camembert that he brought in here, then feels a vibration in his pocket. A quick swipe to unlock the screen, and there he sees a message from Bandit. With his mouth dry from the salt and dairy fat, Rook bites his tongue before reading out the text, “what was the worst kiss you've ever had?”
Ace doesn’t seem too phased with what he heard. He takes a peach, bites into its firm flesh and chews before opening his mouth, “I think it happened during my high school years. There was this boy and ugh, he was nice and all, but I didn’t think he would slam his lips on me after eating a canned sardine for lunch.” He sinks his teeth into the fruit once more and squints. “Never again.”
All Rook manages to catch is that Ace has been open about who he is ever since young, and to learn such things about the man is a great relief to him. His attention is sorely focused on the thin line of moisture dripping along Ace’s hand, making a trail on those veins and knuckles and finally falls onto the floor to darken the carpet. He nearly misses out what’s asked to him, so he has to ask back, “sorry, what did you say?”
“Ahem. So it says, ‘have you ever ghosted anyone?’” Ace licks off the messy residue and rubs his hand against his clothes.
“Oh. Not that I know of?” Rook thinks back on his past relationships. He rips out another bit of camembert and picks on the rind to savour its slightly fuzzy texture. “We all talked it out and were civil about why we should break up. I mean, it was as nice as it can be, but I remember wetting my pillow for a couple of days.”
Ace stretches his arm with a gaze soft and gentle. “Aw, come here.”
Shyness comes first, then a fizzling emotions fill his throat. It’s hard to pinpoint what they are; a mixture of anticipation, excitement and appreciation. Rook leans forward to let the man lay an arm around his shoulder, and he can smell aftershave and smokey scent from the salmon. They quickly break the half-hug because Rook feels another message buzzing his phone. He reads it out, “do you have any scars?”
“Oh, it’d be strange to not have one. But hm, I guess this one’s kinda fascinating,” Ace is quick to sit on his knees and pull down the belt of his pants, just enough to reveal the area below his waist, “this is from the harness and one day it kinda ripped through my uniform. It was a massive burn and God, I had to sort it out myself with antiseptics.”
The off-coloured patch of skin shows that the injury was no joke. Rook can imagine Ace in one of those dramatic action movie scenes; the kind where the main character stifles his scream while pouring some hard liquor to sanitise the bloody and mangled skin. It’s most likely to assume that Ace mended himself professionally while making a big fuss out of it, but hell, Rook isn’t exactly quiet when he is injured too.
“We will be out of here in no time.” Ace whispers and shines a wink. “Let’s see. What did they send me this time?” He takes a look, and for a moment, the smile has a tiny flicker and resumes back to maintain its curve. “What did you first notice about me?”
Rook swears his stomach churned the moment he hears the question.