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Deuce didn’t really think. What he lacked in patience and common sense, he made up for with passion and earnesty. Unfortunately, passion and earnesty didn’t always get the job done. He’s messed up more times than he could count because of his act-now-think-later attitude, but this time, he was determined to make things work out.
Ace’s birthday had finally arrived, and he wasn’t going to let a single issue come up and ruin things. Not like the time when he planned their first date… Or the time when he planned their first time holding hands… Or the time when he planned their first kiss (one unfortunate bloody nose later and Deuce realized that sheer passion was definitely not enough to get him through life.…).
Despite Ace’s occasional reassurance that things were fine and Deuce was worrying over nothing, the first year’s apprehensions still lingered. He wasn’t a planner, but he realized quickly that sometimes he’d have to be for the sake of a new relationship. If he didn’t plan anything, and Ace never planned anything, then things would never change! Since Ace was satisfied with the casual pace they’d been moving at, nothing new ever happened.
Deuce, on the other hand, was impatient. He didn’t want things to be the same as always.
So, with the power of passion, earnesty, and, hopefully, a well-executed plan on his side, he’d make sure to give Ace the best damn birthday celebration he could ask for!
Deuce’s plan was a simple, 3-step one.
Step 1: Get Ace into town as soon as classes ended so they could “window shop” (but in reality, Deuce would buy something Ace said he liked; he’d been saving for a while now!).
Step 2: Take Ace to a nice restaurant using a “free meal for two!” ticket he’d won in a lottery.
Step 3: Present Ace with his gift… And maybe kiss him.
He liked kissing Ace. And it wasn’t like he planned it everytime! Most times he didn’t, because Ace made fun of him once he’d found out that he would plan their kisses... But it didn’t hurt to remind himself that he definitely, definitely wanted to kiss Ace by the end of his birthday.
With their final class of the day coming to an end, Deuce promptly gathered his belongings, more than ready to finally draw the curtains on his secret birthday special. A sort of tingling sensation danced across his skin – excitement and tension budding at the pit of his stomach and blossoming all over. “Ace, you ready to go?”
An unopened textbook with next to no signs of use across its spine or the pages within was tucked underneath Ace’s arm. Considering the fact that their final class was History of Magic and Ace usually spent the last half of it struggling to stay awake, Deuce was startled to see him up before him for once.
“...Looks like someone’s excited for his birthday.”
Tongue poking out to greet Deuce, Ace shrugged. “Shut up.” His voice pinched comically, lips pursing in a faux half-pout. “I get one day a year where I can be as shameless as I want and still get rewarded for it. You better bet I’m gonna milk every hour of it~”
“You say that as if you’re not shameless every other day of the year.” Expression soft, Deuce headed towards the classroom’s exit shining just a few paces in front of them.
“Oi…” Ace narrowed his gaze, turning to look at the other. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not supposed to bully the birthday boy? …Besides… You planned today for me, right? I’m looking forward to seeing how things fall apart.” A familiar wickedness stretched Ace’s features into his signature smirk, causing Deuce to frown.
Ace was joking. He knew that… But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still worry about it.
“You’re definitely gonna eat those words by the end of the day.” He started, a sheer determination glistening behind azure hues. “And–”
“Ah, Spade.”
Crap.
“P-Professor Trein…” A wavering half-smile made its way to Deuce’s lips as he addressed the History of Magic teacher, making sure to offer Lucius a small nod as well. “Did you… Need something?” He glanced at Ace who stopped at the doorway to wait for him, trying not to look as panicked as he felt, and only half succeeding.
“Yes, actually. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the promise you made to me earlier this week about moving those books from the library to my office, right?” Both his expression and perfectly erect posture were unwavering – the only movement from him being the slow petting atop Lucius’ head.
“H-Huh…?”
Trein raised a brow at this, obviously dissatisfied with the response. “Is that any way to respond to your professor?”
“Sorry, Professor Trein! I didn’t forget, but…–” Nervously, his gaze would dart back towards Ace.
“You said ‘the end of this week’, did you not? It’s the end of the week.”
“I did, but– Oi–!” Suddenly stumbling forward two steps, his eyes widened when he discovered the cause of his small tumble. “Ace, you–”
“We got it~ C’mon, Deuce. Let’s just do it together so we can finish faster.” Nudging Deuce with his elbow, he ushered him past a disgruntled Trein.
“Don’t even think about rushing!” He called out towards the students’ already retreating figures. “Those books are valuable!”
In the library, Ace piled one heavy book on top of the other, creating a pile that was taller than his arm. Fingers tucked underneath the pile’s weight and he tried to shimmy it off the table and against his chest. “J-Jeez! Are there really no carts around for us to use?” He grumbled, glancing at Deuce to see if he was doing any better than he was.
When he received no response and was met with only the growing sulk that refused to leave Deuce’s face since they ran into Trein, Ace huffed loudly. Dropping his pile of books back onto the table, he grabbed the one from the top and bumped the back of Deuce’s head with it.
“Ow! Ace–!”
“Deuce! Would you quit sulking already?! The longer you sulk, the longer we’ll be stuck here.”
Rubbing the back of his head, Deuce considered for a moment. Then, with a sudden flash behind his eyes, he shook his head. “You- You’re right!” Mentally, he was kicking himself, but instead of wasting more time and energy actually doing that, he hurriedly lifted his own pile of books. This was already their fourth trip to and from the library.
“‘Course I am.” Ace’s usual smugness was coated with a hint of soft satisfaction – relieved that Deuce wasn’t too difficult to comfort. “Now let’s get going. Only a few more of these trips and we’ll be done, right?”
Wrong. Ace was wholly and completely wrong. Of course Trein wouldn’t let them off the hook with just the heavy lifting. Once all the books were taken to his office, it was only a matter of sorting them into whatever order he desired, then neatly placing them onto the proper shelves. While sorting them only took about 30 minutes, actually finding their proper places took another hour and a half. By the time they managed to escape Trein’s clutches, Deuce was nearly reduced to a panicked heap of tired muscles, tousled hair from all the frustrated head rubbing, and a thin layer of sweat either from all the walking back and forth or the stress. Possibly both.
It took them both an hour to change out of their uniforms and into casual clothes, then another half hour to actually get to the small village at the foothills of their mountain. Deuce, who’d been frantically checking the time every five minutes, in a silent hope that maybe, just maybe he could have been looking wrong and the hour would jump back by one, was thoroughly frazzled by now. Even after taking the hour to change and prepare himself, some of his hair stuck up at the side. Had he been scratching his head that much?!
Looking towards the frantic mess next to him, Ace reached over, palming at the stubborn hair that stuck up on the side of Deuce’s head. He pressed down a few times, essentially giving the other headpats, much to the receiver’s surprise.
Deuce, who’d been six feet under his own deafening thoughts, looked at Ace with evident surprise on his features. “What are you–?”
“Your hair’s a mess, dude.” He pressed harder against the stubborn strands, knowing it wouldn’t really do anything. His tongue poked out in concentration nonetheless. “And that’s coming from me. ” Ace’s unruly tresses were his signature look, though. It didn’t work for someone like Deuce, who was trying to become the picture perfect example of an “honor student”.
“Oh…” He gently took Ace’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his hair and letting the hold linger a few moments longer than necessary before releasing. “My bad…” Attempting to fix his own hair, he glanced down at his phone once more and sighed in defeat.
At this rate, they’d only have 30 minutes, barely, to “window shop”. The least he could do now was make sure that they got to the restaurant before their reservation time. As long as they weren’t late for that, nothing could go wrong! He triple checked his wallet before leaving the dorms, making sure he still had their free meal ticket tucked safely inside. He called the restaurant, confirming their reservation. He even made sure there was no expiration date on his meal ticket! Anything he could do, he’d done. This, at least this, would be perfect.
“You must be hungry. We haven’t eaten since lunch,” Deuce commented as casually as he could.
“I could eat.”
“Perfect!” The simple response seemed enough to reignite Deuce’s enthusiasm. He resisted the urge to grab Ace’s hand in the middle of the bustling village, and instead gestured for him to follow. “I think I know a good place you’ll like. Wanna check it out?”
Ace tried not to snort at how obvious Deuce was. Despite “not being a planner”, he knew how much work Deuce put into these things. He knew everything was probably planned out and carefully considered… Even if it didn’t always work out the way he originally intended. “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go!”
The magnificent restaurant standing before them like a mini castle painted eggshell white was daunting, and certainly not something Deuce could afford without a free meal ticket. The small pairs of people who streamed in and out all looked like A-list celebrities, and Deuce found himself swallowing hard at the sight. At least it looked worthy of the reviews he found raving about the place. And despite every bone in his body urging him to turn right around, he pushed forward. For Ace…
The single review that stuck out in Deuce’s mind and made him certain that this would be the perfect place for Ace’s birthday was the very enthusiastic praise of “Twisted Wonderland’s best cherry pie! 10/10!” It wasn’t really luck that’d gotten Deuce to win those lottery tickets, actually, but sheer determination. After creating 120 fake emails and signing up on the restaurant’s site everyday that it was open, he re-entered the lottery so many times, his fingers hurt from all the fake identities he’d typed up. The identity that won him the lottery ticket happened to be–
“Mr. Deuce Trappo–” The host behind the front desk of the restaurant called out for him.
“MmmmnnnnnffffshhhhhH!” An impressive half-bellow-half-bark ripped from Deuce’s lips in a panic. Eyes wide, he quickly approached the hostess, violently refusing to look back at Ace behind him. “Y-Yes, I am… He.”
“Right…” The hostess looked mildly affronted, offering a weak smile. “I’m sorry to inform you, but this restaurant is a black tie restaurant only…” Her gaze wandered down to the jeans both males had chosen to wear out.
“H-Haah?!” His voice echoed against the high ceiling, causing a few groups of black tie wearers to look in his direction. Immediately flustering, he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “But… No one told me about that!”
“I apologize, Mr. Tr–”
“Zzzzzztt!”
“...I apologize, sir… But we can reschedule your reservation for another date if you’d like?” She offered meekly.
Deuce’s hand fell over the same patch of hair that Ace had just tried smoothing over earlier; another frustrated ruffling. “But we need to go today, ” he tried desperately. “Is there any way you could just… Make an exception?”
Ace’s expression shifted awkwardly beside him. He didn’t like seeing Deuce like this, but he knew it’d be worse to try and stop him or take over. Instead, his palm settled on the small of the other’s back, circling slowly and, hopefully, soothingly.
“Sorry, sir…”
A few quiet moments passed, Ace watching Deuce’s face carefully. Sure, he enjoyed seeing him frustrated, but nkt like this. It’s like he could see every tiny strain on his face; the tightening and untightening of his features as he tried to figure out what to do next. Then, finally, “I understand.” Even with the resolve in his tone, the disappointment was palpable. “Then… I’ll call again to reschedule for next time.”
“Haaaaaaa~!” Throwing both palms behind his head and leaning back, Ace nudged Deuce with his elbow while they exited the restaurant. “Feels good to be outta that stuffy place, right?”
Deuce didn’t reply. If the pouting was bad after Trein’s job for them, this was just straight up kicked puppy.
Frowning, Ace stopped walking, waiting to see if Deuce would notice and stop, too. He didn’t. With a huff of frustration, he stomped forward and kicked Deuce right between his asscheeks. “Hey! I asked you a question, Mr. Trappola! ”
Heat crawled up Deuce’s skin so fast it was like he was just thrown over a volcano. Cheeks ablaze, and one hand rubbing the now-sore spot between cheeks, he turned quickly to glare at Ace. “You heard?!”
“Duh! Everyone in the damn restaurant probably heard!” Ace’s expression shifted immediately to one of smug satisfaction. Then, with another playful lilt of his voice, evident mockery dancing across his tone, he leaned forward, both palms resting on his hips. “What? Too embarrassed to admit you write ‘Deuce Trappola’ in your notebooks in the middle of class?”
“I don’t do that!” He barked, steam finally leaving his system in short bursts during their back and forth.
Ace grinned – or was it more of a smirk? “Well, whatever. I know what I heard, Mr. Trappola.”
Deuce had a feeling his namesake would never let him live this down as long as he lived… Though, after the short bout, he admittedly did feel a little better. At the very least, he was pulled out of that gloomy funk. Somewhat. “Ace… Listen, I–”
“Uwah!” Ace suddenly exclaimed, smacking Deuce’s shoulder with one hand and pointing ahead with the other. “Look! It’s my favorite burger place! They got a new sauce flavor today!” Without waiting for the other, he raced ahead. “We gotta try it out!”
Thank you, sweet burger place.
By some miracle, Deuce’s plan was somewhat salvaged again. Okay. Maybe it wasn’t the original plan, but Ace still looked excited, and they were still getting dinner. He tried not to think too hard about the fact that Ace probably. definitely looked more excited about the burgers than the previous mini-castle.
After they’d ordered their meals (Deuce’s treat; it was the least he could do), and secured a booth in the corner of the restaurant, Deuce was left with another golden opportunity to surprise the birthday celebrant.
With Ace in the bathroom, Deuce sat alone with their burgers. For a long while, he stared down at Ace’s tray. For some reason, the thought of doing something secret to his burger felt a little… Wrong – even if he wasn’t going to do anything bad at all! But he had to make up for his original plan… The original plan of asking the waiter at the previous restaurant if they could write a birthday message on Ace’s cherry pie… It’d be equal parts satisfying and cute seeing how embarrassed Ace would get over a gesture like that.
Now he didn’t have a cherry pie or a squeezable pouch of icing, but he did have a burger and a ketchup bottle. Pulling Ace’s tray in front of him, he glared at the open bun, debating only for a moment more before making his move. With shaky hands, he squeezed once, not using too much force to avoid accidental, tomato-stained bloodshed. Though the first line is sloppy, he managed to draw the base of a two-layered cake. (Originally meant to be three-layered, but the bun wasn’t big enough for that.) A few lines later, and he had fat candles!
Seeing Ace exit the bathroom, he hurriedly sealed the ketchup bottle and shoved the tray back to the other side.
“Hey. You didn’t start eating yet?” Ace asked, sliding back into his seat across from Deuce.
“‘Course not. Who eats before the birthday celebrant?” His leg tapped impatiently underneath the table, excited to see Ace’s reaction. Though he might not get as flustered over a poorly drawn ketchup-cake on his bun, he might at least laugh a little… Maybe even call it cute.
Glancing down at his burger, Ace arched a single brow. Head tilting in confusion, he picked up the ketchup-slathered bun. “The hell? Why’d they put so much ketchup on my bun?” Without a second thought, he slapped the bun over the patty. “Thanks for the meal!” He beamed, biting into the burger and tearing apart Deuce’s hopes and dreams.
Towards the end of their meal, the pair ended up kicked out of the restaurant since they arrived too close to closing time. After multiple defeats that day, it looked like Deuce was just about ready to fight someone, but Ace quickly ushered him outside and to a bench off to the side.
Maybe Deuce had gotten lucky again; the quiet darkness blanketing the village around them was strangely comforting. Without the hustle and bustle of people exploring the town, they could be properly alone. Not that either of them particularly minded the crowd, but… Being alone meant they could sit a few inches closer, or hold each other’s gazes a few seconds longer, or, if they were feeling really bold, they could even kiss.
In addition to their newfound, but quietly appreciated, seclusion, the stars shone brightly overhead, and the nighttime breeze actually felt really nice tickling their skin. Leaning back against the bench, Ace stuffed the last remaining fries into his mouth. “Man, that was great. I didn’t think the sweet and spicy would work well together, but it was way better than I expected.” Lifting one palm, he placed it over his stomach, giving himself a few satisfied pats. With the couple’s newfound proximity, Ace brushed against Deuce’s arm with every pat.
Deuce took this as his silent invitation, scooting closer so their shoulders touched. “You really didn’t think it was too… Ketchupy?” Turning his head, he stared at Ace’s profile. He’d always been really good looking. Sitting at his right, he didn’t get to see the heart painted over his eye, but Ace’s bareface always made Deuce want to bury him with kisses all the more.Especially in the morning when Ace was still drowned under mountains of blankets, bedhead raging, and eyes half-opened to glare dangerously (but drowsily) at him.
“Uh. No?” He shrugged, bringing his opposite hand up to lick his fingertips. “Actually, I think it was perfect.”
A small smile found its way to Deuce’s lips, airy laughter escaping him. “Yeah? Good to know.”
Narrowing his eyes, Ace shot Deuce a skeptical look. “What are you laughing about?”
“Nothing. Just… If you ever want to recreate the perfect ketchup to bun ratio, I heard the ‘two-layered cake’ is a good method to use.”
“Haah? What the hell are you going on about?”
Instead of replying properly, Deuce caught Ace’s wrist of the hand that hovered a few inches away from his mouth. “You’re gross.” Pulling a napkin out, he wiped Ace’s fingertips. “Can’t you even clean yourself properly?”
Ace merely shrugged, enjoying the pampering. “Why should I when I have you now? And anyway, it’s my birthday. I think I’m entitled to a little bit of spoiling.”
“...Maybe…” After finishing with Ace’s pinky, he shoved the napkin into an emptied box of fries. “Just a little.” He still didn’t release Ace’s hand, though, instead holding it from the back and flipping it so his palm faced the stars.
“...You got a funny way of holding hands.”
Wrinkling his nose, Deuce reached into his back pocket to retrieve a small velvet pouch that was nearly as bright as the red of Ace’s eyes. He pushed the pouch into the open palm, brows furrowed as if frustrated – but really he was just flustered. “H-Happy birthday, Ace!” His voice boomed with the greeting, one brow twitching before he finally managed an awkward, half-smile.
Ace blinked owlishly at the other, first staring into determined teals that seemed to glow in the night. “J-Jeez… No need to shout!” A faint pink dusted his own cheeks, but he thanked the darkness for mostly concealing it. Why was Deuce so stupidly gungho in moments like these! Shaking his head once, he stared down at the pouch. “Could I… I’m opening it now.”
After Deuce released his hand, Ace slowly pulled the scrunched up center of the pouch outwards. Reaching in, he discovered a small wooden plaque only about half the size of his palm. In Deuce’s handwriting, a small message was scrawled across the front in black ink, and for a long while, Ace could only stare at it.
Actually, it took so long, that Deuce had started fidgeting anxiously, waiting for Ace’s reaction. “W-Well?!” He finally spoke up first. “Do you like it?”
Ace burst out laughing. “‘Do I like it’?!” He repeated, unable to contain his amusement. “I knew it!” Clutching the plaque tightly in his palm, he held it over his heart, still laughing.
“What– What do you mean you ‘knew’ it?! What did you know?!” Impatient, Deuce reached for Ace’s forearm, tugging desperately.
“You–! You really do write–” Unable to continue without falling into a laughing fit, he merely lifted the plaque from his chest, revealing the front to Deuce.
“Deuce Trappola”
Horrified, Deuce’s cheeks crimsoned once again as he lunged for the plaque.
“Nuh-uh-uh! No way!” Ace retreated with laughter, backing up to the other end of the bench. “This is my gift! You have any idea how messed up it is to take back a gift?”
With Ace still laughing in his face, Deuce tried to snatch the plaque away again, only to stumble into his chest. Catching himself with one palm planted firmly on the seat of the bench at the opposite side of Ace’s legs, he looked up at the other, brows furrowed deeply. “I–! That’s not the paper I meant to give the engravers!” Before he could retreat, Ace snaked his free arm around Deuce’s neck, trapping him in place before him with a smirk.
Ace’s palm landed on the juncture between two strong shoulder blades, fingers tapping the spot a few times while he tilted his head. His other hand still hugged the plaque tightly. “Yeah, no shit.”
Frustrated, and slightly uncomfortable in this position, Deuce merely glared into the endlessly smug expression gazing down at him lovingly. “It… I just happened to write… That after I saw what name won the lottery. Was just curious, I guess,” he grumbled, trying to turn away but failing thanks to their proximity and Ace’s hold. “I thought I scrapped that piece of paper, but I guess I mixed it up with the paper that said Ace Trappola…” Exhaling loudly, he glanced at the plaque in Ace’s hand. “It’s supposed to be a good luck charm for the person whose name is written down on it…”
“Pfft–... Hahaha!”
“You–!”
Leaning down, Ace captured Deuce’s lips in a lingering kiss, swallowing up whatever complaint would undoubtedly fall from him. Despite the hurried gesture to shut Deuce up, the motion was slow – intentional. It lingered for a few seconds, and, when Ace finally pulled away, the small smooch! sound chased after retreating lips. “That just means we’ll stay lucky together, dumbass. Isn’t that even better?” Holding their proximity, reassurance was mumbled against Deuce’s lips, which occasionally puckered again to steal more small kisses between words.
“Ace…” By now, his expression had softened considerably. He was assuaged. Thank you, kisses.
“Not that I need any luck,” he added with a shrug, finally moving his arm from around Deuce’s neck and straightening up. “Things usually find a way to work out the way I want. Right, Deuce-kun? ” Ace knew that things might not have worked out the way Deuce originally planned for his birthday, but in the end everything worked out, just like it always did.
Closing his eyes, Deuce let out a quiet exhale, all the tension he’d been building up today leaving his system for good. Straightening up himself, he kept one arm around Ace’s frame, but instead of letting his palm settle on the seat of the bench, it gripped onto the back next to Ace’s shoulder. Like this, his body was completely angled towards the redhead, leaving Ace no space to escape or even turn away.
“...What? Are you just going to sit there staring at me or are you planning on responding?” Ace quietly hoped the edge in his tone and the darkness surrounding them would shroud his own growing fluster.
There was still one part of his plan that Deuce hadn’t messed up… One part he could definitely, definitely succeed in doing right then and there. There was no need to plan, no need to think; Ace had told him a hundred times before. And, at least for today, Deuce could admit – Ace was almost always right. “Ace…”
With a dusty pink heating the apples of his cheeks, Ace’s lower lip jutted out into a small pout. He couldn’t fight against Deuce when he got like this! “What…?”
“Happy birthday, Ace.” This time, much quieter. Leaning in, he closed the distance between them.
Step 3: Present Ace with his gift… And maybe kiss him.
Success!