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If you make a fool of yourself in front of him again, you might throw yourself off of the ship.
There’s only so many stumbles, so many stuttered words, so many awkward laughs that you can handle. Every time you speak to Ace, you somehow manage to embarrass yourself. You’re done with it. If you can’t get your act together, can’t impress and enchant him how you want to, then it’s better not to speak to him at all.
And so here you are, curled up in a corner of the kitchen, praying to any god that might listen that your Commander doesn’t come looking for a snack.
“You alright down there?” Thatch’s voice is kind, as it always is, but you can hear a bit of a laugh. You’re used to the good natured teasing of the crew, so it doesn’t get under your skin as much as it used to, but you can’t help but bristling a bit.
“I’m fine.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure you are. I just wanted to check. I heard there was an incident earlier–”
“God, don’t remind me.” You had been in the middle of telling a story, complete with very enthusiastic hand gestures, only for Ace to sneak up on you and get clocked straight in the face by a particularly large sweeping motion. He was fine, obviously, as a Logia type, but you had barely managed to squeak out an embarrassed apology before you had sprinted off, nearly tripping down the stairs on your way out. “I’m never going to live that down.”
“It’s not like you hurt anybody. Everyone on the ship has at least one story way more embarrassing than this, I promise you. You remember how many times Ace got thrown overboard when he first got here, don’t you?”
“I don’t think losing a fight to Pops is as embarrassing as accidentally punching a commander in the face because I got too excited.”
“Well at least your thing is cute.”
“Cute? It made me look insane!”
“It made you look clumsy. There’s plenty of clumsy people on this ship, and we love them all the same.” You don’t want to give in, want to sit in the hurt and the shame until it eats you whole, but Thatch’s words are so kind and his words are so gentle you can’t help but let your hold on it slip a bit, your shoulders relaxing just a tad. “I promise you this is going to be nothing but a funny memory someday. Probably someday soon. I’m surprised you’re so shaken by this, honestly. Haven’t you had a lot of moments like this?”
“Where I made myself look like a dumbass in front of a crowd? Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me.” There’s no bite to your words anymore, and you can see the small shimmer of victory in his eyes as he realizes he’s gotten to you.
“But those don’t bother you. Because it isn’t about the crowd, right?”
You sigh. You had a feeling Thatch knew about your little crush, considering how poorly you’ve been hiding it, but he hadn’t said anything before now. You had hoped that no one ever would, and you could keep pretending you weren’t horribly obvious about your feelings. “So you’re going to make me talk about it now?”
“I’m not going to make you do anything, kid. I’m just giving you the chance to. In a safe space. And I promise that not a single word of what you tell me will leave this room.”
You don’t want to. You may be horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed now, but this is a familiar discomfort. A safe sort of pain, dull and easy to deal with. If you talk about it, let your soft parts show, well, who knows what will come after that? Nothing is more terrifying than the unfamiliar, whether it’s joy or disappointment or something in between. At least you know how pining feels, how it sits so snugly in your chest.
But Thatch’s smile is so warm, and his eyes are a little bit pleading, and you’ve never been good at turning away an outstretched hand. “...I just don’t know what it is about him that makes me such a mess.”
“Does he make you nervous?”
“Yes, god, so much. I’m not used to someone making me feel so…small. And jittery. I never know what to say, and even when I do the words come out wrong. It makes me feel so stupid and silly, like I’m a dumb kid again while he’s so…everything. I hate it. I hate feeling so out of control and self conscious. I hate that even seeing him makes me completely lose it, and that everyone can tell. I hate how hard it is to avoid him, because even despite all of that I still want to be around him. It sucks. So goddamn bad.”
“It can be hard to feel like you’re not in control of your emotions, that’s true. But caring about someone isn’t a bad thing, really. Especially not caring about someone like Ace. He’s a good guy.”
“He is a good guy.” It’s part of the reason he had stolen your heart so effortlessly. He was just…kind. He cared about other people, and other people cared about him. When he passed through somewhere, he always left it a little better than he found it, whether he actively tried or not. You can’t help the small, self deprecating laugh that bubbles out of you. “He’d be a hell of a lot easier to get over if he wasn’t. But maybe he’s worth the trouble.”
“Worth making a fool of yourself?”
You smile, a small and fragile little thing. “Yeah.”
It feels good to have gotten off of your chest for a moment, and you let a little of that weight fall off your shoulders.
And then you hear the creak of the floorboards outside, and you and Thatch look up to see Ace, his hat quickly pulled down to cover his face, just barely showing the very red tips of his ears.
“Oh my god.” You can barely squeak out the words, so mortified it almost makes you nauseous.
Thatch has the nerve to laugh. “Well, this isn’t the ideal way to do this, but hey. At least it’s out there. I told you they didn’t hate you, didn’t I?”
What?
Ace’s voice is about an octave higher than you remember it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. I–um–I’m so sorry, I was just coming down to talk to Thatch, and–I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” He lets his hat drop a little, his eyes peeking over the brim, allowing you to see his flushed cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more over the pink.
Thatch very casually walks past Ace, shoves him into the kitchen, and walks away, calling over his shoulder to, “Have fun with that!”
He blinks at you.
You blink back.
“I–uh.” You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge what’s happening, your brain frying under the stress of trying to process the situation. “I’m sorry I punched you earlier.”
He chokes out a strained laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it.”
Another beat of silence.
You’ve never seen Ace looking so unsure, shifting on his feet, eyes darting everywhere but you. Normally staying in his presence this long would make you curl in on yourself, taking up as little space as possible, trying not to make an idiot of yourself and failing massively. But something about seeing him look so vulnerable compared to how you usually view him, so human, makes you speak up. “You thought I hated you?”
The red on his cheeks grows deeper. “I–you always run when I try to talk to you. I thought it was because I made you uncomfortable, and I was hoping talking to you more would fix it, but it just made it worse. So I just…make you nervous?”
“Yeah. You do.”
“Why?”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “What do you mean why? I thought you just heard why.”
He chuckles nervously. “Right. I–um. I just can’t believe it.”
“Which part?”
He tenses further, but instead of running, he begins to approach, slowly lowering his hat and sitting on the floor across from you. “Any of it, I guess. That you like me. That you think I’m some cool, strong hero, or something.”
“Do you not think you’re cool?”
He hums, closing his eyes in thought. “Yes. But not really.”
“Care to elaborate?”
He sighs. “I know I’m strong, and capable, and I try my best to help people. But…I don’t know. I just don’t think of myself as someone worth getting nervous over.”
“You don’t see why someone might be nervous around an extremely talented and handsome man?”
He grins. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Shut up. You already knew that.”
“You didn’t actually say it earlier. You just said I was good.”
You roll your eyes. “It was implied!”
“Maybe I’m not good with subtext!”
You both laugh, and you find yourself leaning closer. “I think you know damn well that you’re handsome and cool and all of the other amazing things I implied earlier.”
Before you know it, your noses are brushing together, and you can see every fleck of color in his eyes. “Do I?”
His lips are softer than you expected, his touch gentler than you could have dreamed. You don’t even realize what you’ve done until you’re already pulling away, cheeks flushed and a goofy smile on your face.
Ace looks downright giddy. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that. This is the first time you’ve actually talked to me in months.”
It suddenly strikes you that you’ve finally had a normal conversation with Ace.
And kissed him.
You flush red.
He sighs fondly. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.” He leans forward, taking your hand in his, and is kind enough not to mention how clammy they’ve suddenly gotten. “It might be a little rough doing this if you can’t talk to me. But that’s alright. I think maybe you’re worth the trouble.”