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Deuce woke up groggy and overheated and with a gross taste in his mouth, confused and uncomfortable, but it didn't take long for familiarity to return. Every morning started the same on Sixis, and not even splitting that awful Devil Fruit with Ace and beginning their little alliance had changed that consistency any.
He groaned, wishing he could return to the bliss and obliviousness of sleep, but the sun was bright against his eyelids and too hot against his already red and burned skin. He kept his eyes firmly closed anyway, reaching up to check his mask was still on his face--he didn't feel Ace's back pressed against his own, the way they'd gone to sleep the last two nights to share some warmth, didn't hear the humming and occasional thought mumbled aloud that seemed to be a common habit for the younger man, but he still wasn't prepared to be without the mask around someone who was still a stranger, his one ally in their newfound partnership to get the hell away from Sixis. He must have wandered off, to try another futile attempt at spearfishing only in the shallows now that he was a Devil Fruit user, or maybe to start bringing down and stripping trees for Deuce's idea for a boat to get them away.
He sighed, let his hand flop back to the hot sand at his side, and instead found paper crinkling under his fist.
That was enough to pique his interest, and he withheld another grumble, cracking an eye open grudgingly and pushing himself up. It was harder to bite back the wince at the way his burned skin pulled, the way his clothes sat so stiff on his body after days unwashed and dunked into salt water, but he pushed through the ache and crossed his legs to get a better look at the paper at his side.
Most of his own possessions had been lost in his shipwreck, and he knew the same had happened to Ace. Deuce had been lucky to keep his bag crossed over his shoulder, even if the journal and pens he'd brought with him had been ruined. Ace had managed to scrape together a few lengths of rope and some planks from his own boat, and they'd gotten lucky the day before in finding a tattered bit of sailcloth caught against a rocky section of the shore on the far side of the island. He certainly didn't remember either of them having such a big piece of paper as this was, even if it was waterstained and jagged-edged, and he wondered where Ace had found it.
It was folded in half, with one of their carefully constructed palm-leaf cups full of water placed at one of the corners. It was lucky he hadn't upended the cup when he'd dropped his hand, and he greedily grabbed it up and took a long drink, pleasantly surprised at how much there was before briefly worrying Ace had given him more than his fair share. Just because he was made of fire now didn't mean he could ignore basic bodily needs--or at least, Deuce didn't think so.
He took a smaller sip, determined to leave plenty to force on Ace. They had to rely on each other to get off Sixis, and the man was growing on him more and more the longer they spent together. It seemed impossible to dislike Ace, once he'd finally given him a chance, which only made him regret their first interactions all the more. So he'd make sure Ace took care of himself, and they'd get off this godforsaken rock together.
Water system works! Takes forever though, got bored. Come find me when you wake up and we'll start on the raft's hull! -Ace
The words were scrawled over the page in messy dark streaks, and Deuce smudged his finger over one of the exclamation points and decided Ace must've used a charred stick as a pencil. He had a lot of questions, namely what Ace meant about a water system--had he figured out how to filter and purify saltwater into drinkable water? Was that something people living in mountain jungles just learned?
He unfolded the paper, wondering if there was any other message written inside. It had clearly been a map, once upon a time, the sea smearing the inked lines of navigation and fading away the colors of seas and islands and the Red Line, but maybe Ace had drawn out a schematic for the new 'water system' or for their escape ship.
Instead, he found a drawing, a pair of humanoid bodies, a little distorted like the paper had been braced against a knee instead of a flat surface while he drew, the proportions a little out of whack, but Deuce could definitely see the shape of Ace's orange hat, the curves and swirls of his mask over a smiling mouth, the posture of the Ace-figure screaming adventure on a sketchy little boat that was clearly too small to hold two people.
There was a pirate flag flying from the mast of their strange little boat, and it seemed like Ace had put most of his work into that, carefully sketching out the skull and crossbones, a pointed blob around the skull that Deuce recognized after a moment of squinting was probably meant to be flames. That would be a reasonable enough addition to a Jolly Roger, he somewhat grudgingly admitted, the thought of pirate flags and pirate captains and marauding on the high seas sounding less and less offensive with each moment he shared with Ace.
He was like the sun, and Deuce couldn't resist being drawn into his orbit. He didn't particularly want to resist being drawn into his orbit.
He snorted, felt his lips beginning to curl in a bewildered smile at the little label above their smiling, silly drawn faces, Me + U. He had no idea what Ace had been thinking, drawing something like this, had no idea what would have possessed a pirate captain to doodle across the first scrap of paper they'd found and leave it for Deuce. It was a little endearing, and more than a little odd, especially considering Deuce still hadn't agreed to join Ace's pirate crew, the way Ace kept asking him to at least once a day.
But there also wasn't really any point in questioning him about it, not when there was so much to do if they wanted to get off Sixis anytime soon, so he folded the silly drawing up and shoved it in his pocket, taking up the still half-full cup of water and pushing himself up to go find Ace. He wasn't going to take another sip until he confirmed Ace had drunk some too, and then they'd get underway on Deuce's plans for a boat.
And if something swooped and settled in the center of Deuce's chest when Ace beamed up at him when he finally found him fiddling with the new water system, one foot aflame under a rickety container of seawater, the beginnings of wooden planks for their boat laid out well away from the flames but still within Ace's reach to work on, well. Their chances of survival were just looking a little better, was all.
"What on earth were you digging through all the drawers for?" Deuce asked, staring at the mess laid out over the blankets on their bed, the drawer build into the wall and the fame of the bed to serve as a nightstand sitting open and bare of items, the drawers of the desk they shared on the other side of the room a mirror image.
Ace scratched at the back of his neck, laughing sheepishly as he carelessly threw a bottle of oil, a spare mask, and other items that might have made Deuce blush only a few months ago back into the drawer. "I was looking for the log pose and my bracelet, thought it might've gotten put away somewhere."
"When have you ever put either of those things away?" Deuce arched a brow, but he couldn't bite back a fond smile at Ace's innocent little grin and bright eyes. "Navigation room, remember, I had to haul you in here after you fell asleep on top of South Blue. I think you left them in there."
"Thanks, Deu!" his partner said brightly, flinging something brightly colored and heavy into the drawer and shoving it closed. He stepped over to press a kiss to Deuce's lips that was probably meant to be quick and sweet, but lingered with a sigh when Deuce decided to pull him in closer by the back of his neck, humming an approval against his lips. "Mm. Lunch in the crow's nest later?"
"You expect me to haul all that food up there? I know how you eat," he teased, and Ace pouted at him for all of a moment before bestowing another kiss on him that turned into a sharp little nip to his lower lip. Ace's teeth flashed as he smirked, pulling away with a squeeze to Deuce's hips.
"You know I'll help. Later?"
"Yeah, yeah, go make sure we aren't sailing into a typhoon," Deuce agreed, letting Ace butt their foreheads together lightly with a murmured exchange of I love yous, before he slipped past him and out the door, making his escape as Deuce realized he hadn't finished putting their room back together entirely.
He grumbled, more than anything wanting a nap before he had to get to work again, and started gathering up sheets of paper, files and inventories of their stores and a list of all the islands Ace was absolutely determined they were going to visit, and organizing them neatly in the desk drawer. Then he grabbed the loose slips of paper scattered on their bed, more small individual shopping lists and notes passed between the two of them and other scraps they didn't really need to keep but had somehow hung onto.
Among them was a larger sheaf of paper, waterstained and stiff, the edges of the page ratty from being torn once upon a time and then being worn down in whatever pocket or bag or corner the paper had wound up in over months on Spadille. Deuce didn't recognize it, not at first, not until he saw the messy scrawl of Ace's writing, charcoal smeared but still legible, and he grinned as he unfolded it fully to reveal the silly little drawing of the two of them within.
"Absolutely ridiculous," he muttered to himself, snorting at their drawn smiles and the detail Ace had put into his hat and Deuce's mask, the first attempt at the Spade's Jolly Roger and the raft that did actually look surprisingly close to their real-life Striker. He smiled, so utterly fond at the sight of the scribbled Me + U, and sighed as he smoothed out the creases as much as he could before moving to hunt down a nail or thumbtack to hang it on the wall near their desk, visible from their bed.
Silly maybe, cheesy maybe, but he wanted to be able to look at it again whenever he wanted. And he couldn't wait to see what Ace's reaction to seeing it again would be.