Work Text:
Ace quieted his steps the closer he got to Spadille’s crew quarters, keeping the heavy soles of his boots from meeting the wooden planks of the floor as hard as he usually did. He wouldn’t bother most of the time, but this late at night it was rude, and after the third time he’d had to go intangible when Cornelia threw a shoe through his head he’d decided this was just easier.
Half the crew was tucked away in the cabin, peaceful snores and snuffling, the shifting lurch of bodies rolling over and the grumbling that came when they bumped into one another, and Ace held the door ajar just before it opened to the point where it squealed, slipping inside and toeing off his bots to muffle his steps even more before nudging them out of the way of whoever wound up being the first sucker to get up for the bathroom the next morning and had to navigate the minefield of sleeping pirates. Mihal, Deuce and Cornelia were the only ones who could manage it reliably while half-asleep, a skill Ace was grudgingly jealous of and entirely amused by in equal measure.
The biggest challenge about coming into the sleeping quarters late was trying to find a spot to stretch out and actually get some sleep. They’d never quite taken to individual spaces, those who did usually taking to the hammocks hanging around the room, but the rest of the crew sprawled out or piled together wherever they liked, sharing or stealing blankets and pillows easily. It was something Ace and Deuce had done, back when it was just the two of them and they’d curled up for warmth or squeezed into whatever miniscule sleeping space was available together.
Curling around each other on Sixis in a slightly desperate bid to keep Deuce warm and comfortable had left its mark, and Ace considered it again as his eyes finally landed on Deuce’s huddled form at the far end of the room, curled into a tight ball and wrapped in a thick orange blanket, cocooned against the sea chill seeping in through Spadille’s hull.
He carefully maneuvered around Skull’s snoring bulk, crouching down beside Deuce in the blanket nest he’d constructed months ago that nearly everyone else didn’t dare touch. Deuce wasn’t noticeably shivering, at least, though his chin was tucked low toward his chest and the blanket nearly covered his ears. His mask was starting to slip a little, angling down toward a cheekbone, and Ace considered going back out to find the gentle adhesive Deuce used to keep the navy blue cloth in place before deciding against it. He didn’t want to disrupt his partner more than he had to, and instead pressed the mask gently back into place and then stretched himself out at Deuce’s back within the blanket nest as well, angling himself so if Deuce turned in the night, if the mask slipped again, his face would be hidden from the rest of the Spades in the room.
Deuce was protective of the blanket nest for good reason, he thought as he rolled to face Deuce’s back, making himself comfortable against thick soft fabric before smoothing the palm of his hand over the slope of Deuce’s shoulder and upper arm, just above where it crossed over his chest. He let his skin grow warmer, radiating a little more of the living fire within him, and he felt Deuce relax more under his touch, the tight curl of his limbs and spine loosening into a resting position that looked far more comfortable, leaning back into Ace as if seeking out more contact, more comfort.
He smiled, resisting the urge and withdrawing his hand after another moment. He really needed to pull himself together and just talk to Deuce: that’s what Mihal had told him, anyway, with growing exasperation as time went on.
He sighed, dropping his head onto the bundled edge of the blanket nest under him, exhausted from the long day and late night. He’d try to get up early, maybe catch Deuce before he got too busy with the day-to-day running of the ship, but there was every likelihood Bree would warn the others off waking him up themselves.
He tucked his arm close to his chest, between his body and Deuce’s back, blinking slowly at the pale spread of Deuce’s hair, a little long in the back, revealed now that Deuce’s shoulders had unhunched and the blanket had drawn down a bit. It was easy to let his eyes begin to flutter shut, though he did make an attempt to keep them open just a little while longer, listening to the way the rest of his sleeping crew shifted and passed through sleep cycles.
He was nearly asleep when Deuce shifted, rolling over to face him, and without a real mattress to shift or creak under them the only reason he noticed at all was because Deuce’s arm curled around his waist as he snuggled in a little closer, humming a little before his face evened out in slack relaxation.
Ace smiled sleepily, too tired and comfortable and content to keep his eyes open longer than it took to reach out and card his fingers through Deuce’s hair, careful of his mask once more, before drifting off entirely.
He only stirred the once, a brief, early morning return to consciousness thanks to a gentle touch on his face, a cool fingertip tracing across his cheek and down his jaw, a slight brush against a curl of his hair, but he fell back asleep before he could think to do more than smile and sigh.
The next morning he woke up alone in the blanket nest, surrounded by the snores of the night shift crew, but he was more tucked into the blankets than he’d been the night before, and there was a sandwich on a place just beyond his reach, carefully placed so that he wouldn’t accidentally roll over it or upend it. He smiled, rolling just a little to press his cheek against the blankets under him, and found the scent of Deuce’s shampoo lingered on the bedding surrounding him. He took a long, deep breath before sighing and pushing himself mostly upright, dragging the sandwich over and taking a bite blearily, and decided to go find Deuce just as soon as he’d checked up on their course. Deuce would have things well in hand as First Mate, but maybe today was the day to have that talk, like Mihal kept saying.
Two days later, Mihal had enough, and nearly kicked down the door to the infirmary before throwing Ace into Deuce’s arms before locking the door behind him and leaving them to it.
“To Mihal! For finally putting an end to our suffering!” Skull called, raising a mug the professor’s way, the other Spades toasting with cheers. Mihal accepted the gesture with grace, and tolerated the presentation of Finamore’s makeshift Medal of Honor, which was a surprisingly well-made bit of crafting for a last-minute collection of junk and scrap, even if it was still the shittiest medal Wallace had ever seen, as he loudly proclaimed.
“Wait…” Aggie said, musing but loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “Now they’re gonna be way more blatant about sharing that blanket nest Deuce built.”
There was a moment of prolonged, thoughtful silence, and then Banshee groaned, pushing herself to her feet. “I’m too old to put up with teenagers who’ve spent that long pining finally figuring themselves out. Cornelia, Ganryu, come with me, we’re clearing the storage out of the captain’s cabin.”
“Why us?” Cornelia asked, though Ganryu seemed perfectly willing to follow the older woman’s orders.
“Cause the rest of these idiots are gonna pull straws for who’s gonna pack up Deuce’s blanket nest,” Banshee said with a menacing grin, and Cornelia laughed as the wails of protest and terror started.
“He’s gonna kill whoever touches that thing!”
“Oh, and Mihal gets a pass since he ‘put an end to our suffering’,” Banshee declared, hands on her hips as she watched the group of grown men and wanted pirates devolve into bickering and complaining at each other. “Keep Deuce and Ace locked up a while longer, they probably won’t even notice.”
There was a crash and clatter of something being knocked over in the infirmary, a bare two rooms away, and while it was muffled, there was definitely a long, loud moan that followed. Most of the crew blanched, and Banshee snickered to herself at the looks on most of their faces.
“Oh no. What’ve we done?” Finamore whimpered, and she smirked.
“Better get them moved into their new room as soon as possible, right boys?”
