Archive of Our Own ^beta

The afternoon sun was high in the cloudless azure sky, gracing the library with natural light. From the half-open windows, a warm breeze was getting into the place. For most students, it would be the perfect afternoon to spend lazing around, enjoying the pleasant spring atmosphere with their friends.

But Riddle’s idea of ‘perfect’ was a bit different from the rest, including more studying than idleness; prioritizing high grades over leisure. And that extended to the members of his dorm, too.

“Dudee, I’m tired.” Ace dropped his pen, which rolled across his textbook on magic story. With his chin supported by one of his hands, Ace let out a long, weary sigh, closing his eyes in the process.

“I won’t have you failing this class, Ace,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, got it, dorm head. It’s one of the rules or whatever.” His tone was drowsy, matching his facial expression. Riddle gave him a side glance, but he allowed it to slide.

Ace sighed again and went back to his papers. Riddle should have done the same, but Ace's words, from more innocent that they had been, were ringing in his ears; even if he knew he shouldn't let himself get hung up over them,

Rules—Riddle was trying to change his approach to them, but letting lifelong habits die wasn't something that could be done with ease.

For the entirety of his life, rules had been everything that he had. He devoted himself to making sure they were followed without exception; because that was the only path to achieve worthiness he knew. But, in the end, his views turned out to be flawed, carrying his efforts down the drain.

However, he wasn’t alone in that; he had his friends' support. And Ace’s. The Ace that broke the bell jar around him, dragged him off his throne built on self-conceit; and didn’t let him on his own ever since.

He was there, showing him that it was alright for him to ignore a few rules if he felt like it. That breaking a few sometimes wasn’t the end of the world; that he wasn’t going to lose his worth over it.

It takes work to make old habits disappear, but with Ace there for him, he knew he could do it.

“Dorm head.” Riddle jolted in his seat. Ace was waving a hand in front of him. “You were totally spacing out. Are you alright? This isn’t like you,” Ace said, with concealed concern.

“Oh, I’m fine. Sorry,” he hastened, while his face started to flush an annoying red. “Was there something that you needed?”

“Uh, I was going to ask you how to solve this,” he said, pointing to a specific question in his worksheet. Ace raised his gaze from the paper, locking eyes with him. A playful smile took shape on his lips. “But now, I’m more curious about what could have stolen your attention from doing schoolwork.”

Riddle averted his eyes, more interested in the wooden floor tiles than Ace’s amused face. There was no way he was ever telling him that. It was embarrassing enough having been caught with his head in the clouds.

“It was nothing important,” Riddle said, his voice sharp and clear.

“Ehh? Are you sure?” he said, cocking his head. Ace’s tone was provoking, bordering on teasing.

Keeping this conversation going on was futile, Riddle knew. Ace was nothing but pushy and there wasn’t any guarantee he wouldn’t embarrass himself if he didn’t put an end to this now.

Riddle cleared his throat in a rough attempt to regain his composure. “Yes, I’m. And we should get going already, or else we may be at risk of arriving late for teatime,” Riddle said. He tried his best to keep his intonation steady, to not let any kind of emotion slip through it.

Ace raised an eyebrow. His eyes were full of doubt. “Whatever you say, dorm head.”

After gathering their things from the table, Riddle made his way through the large library to the bookshelves area, with a small pile of books to return in his hands. Ace walked beside him, carrying another stack.

There, after Ace went to the story of magic section and Riddle to the potions one, he got to breathe with ease. His eyes closed themselves for a brief moment, and he let out a small sigh he didn't even know he was holding in, tightening his grip on the books.

It wasn’t like Ace’s pestering personality annoyed him—much on the contrary. It was just that as of late, Riddle couldn’t shake away this foreign nervousness he felt whenever he was around him. Or that stormed him all the times his thoughts drifted away to Ace-related matters for the record, which occurred with more recurrence than what he would like to admit.

At first, Riddle thought that he was sick, or under some strange magic spell. He never had the time to dwell much on his emotions; they stayed locked in the same place as his wants inside his mind.

However, he, sooner than later, realized that his nervousness wasn’t the work of any external cause. The origin of it could be found deep inside his mind and heart, spreading its roots across him, and plaguing him with odd sentiments that he had a hard time naming.

Calling it a simple affection would be the appropriate term, but it felt too broad for Riddle’s liking. But he didn’t dare to give more depth to his thoughts on the question.

Riddle shook his head as if to toss the thoughts away. It would be better if he stopped thinking about this altogether, and kept his focus on setting the books away. He placed them back one after another until there was only one left. His eyebrows frowned upon seeing where he would have to return the last book to — the highest shelf. Sighing, he turned towards the main corridor. He would need some kind of stool for that.

“Ready to go?” A voice approached him. It was Ace. He was walking towards Riddle, with his fingers intertwined behind his head. “You need help?” Ace signaled to the top of the shelf with his eyes.

Even though Riddle didn’t want to accept the help, it would be a lot faster than going looking for a stool. “Yes,” he sighed. Without making eye contact, Riddle handed the book to Ace. “I could have done this alone,” he argued. “But… Thank you, Ace.”

Before Riddle could move to the side to free up space in the narrow aisle, Ace moved nearer to him. He was close, all across his personal space; on his tiptoes, so that he could reach the bookshelf’s top, Ace was towering over him.

Riddle would step back, but the shelf was right behind him, keeping him trapped between it and Ace.

Riddle’s breath halted for a moment when Ace looked down and their eyes met. The sunlight outlined him, shining around his auburn hair, giving him a dainty aura. In an involuntary reaction, Riddle’s eyes widened. The familiar restlessness settled inside his stomach, but with greater intensity.

For less than a second, Ace’s expression became bare of its characteristic high-and-mighty air, opening way for a soft, demure look. It was a rare sight, one that got replaced by an all-knowing smirk too soon. Riddle’s heartbeat paced up and blush spread through his face as red watercolor would on white paper, making a rose-red muddle on his cheeks.

Ace’s calloused fingers skimmed along his jawline, before he cradled his face, pulling Riddle in his direction. The sudden touch caused Riddle’s body to flinch for an instant, but he didn’t pull away, staying put. Things were going too fast, but at the same time, it felt like he was watching a movie in slow motion.

Ace tilted his head downward, getting closer to him. The redness on Riddle’s cheeks got intenser, the increased blood flow giving his skin a burning sensation.

“Ace…” His voice came out feeble, a mere whisper.

“It's fine,” he said, ghosting his fingertip over his chin. Ace’s mellow words were able to soothe Riddle’s stammering heart by a small bit.

There was so much he knew nothing about, that it was new to him. And even if he felt a quiver inside him, he had a hunch that everything would turn out alright, because Ace was there with him.

Part of the tension flowing through his body was washed away and his shoulders sagged. Ace’s touch on him made his thoughts feel lighter than a fluttering plume. Riddle’s worries became too distant for them to affect him.

He closed his eyes as Ace's face blurred in front of him. Riddle parted his mouth, licking along the length of his bottom lip, anticipating the next seconds. But not even all preparation in the world could make him ready for the moment Ace’s lips came together with his.

Soft and warm, warm and soft. A faint, dazed gasp escapes Riddle, whose knees were not far from giving out. Ace kissed him and it felt like a jigsaw fell into place; all of a sudden, he could see everything there was to see, feel everything there was to feel.

Ah, so that was it.

Riddle could finally put a name to his feelings. To how he felt.

Ace drew back, and just like that, the world spun again.

The air was thick around them, carrying on the dizziness Riddle was feeling. The corner of Ace’s lips turned up in a smile sweeter than a strawberry tart could ever be. In return, Riddle let out a faint chuckle that ended up in a timid smile on his flushed face.

“You know dorm head, a smile looks good on you.”