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The scent of stale cigarette smoke and old paper was the cologne Smoker never wore. Yet It clung to his leather jacket, his hair, and the very air in their small apartment anyway. He was currently slouched on the sofa, a half-empty beer bottle sweating on the coaster beside him, watching the tail end of some mindless action movie.
This was a rare occurrence and privilege that he didn't get to experience very often but one he tried to cherish as much as he could anyway.
From the kitchen came the clatter of a spoon against ceramic, followed by a frustrated sigh. A moment later, Ace appeared in the doorway, a mug of tea in his hands and a pout on his lips that was both endearing and, to Smoker, a little bit annoying.
"It's gone cold again," Ace complained, gesturing with the mug.
Smoker didn't take his eyes off the screen. "Then nuke it, brat. That's what the microwave's for."
Ace huffed, but the sound lacked any real heat. He shuffled over to the sofa, plopping down beside Smoker and tucking his feet under himself. "I wanted it to be hot now"
"You want a lot of things, kid," Smoker grunted, taking a swig of his beer. It was an automatic response, a verbal tic he'd developed long before he and Ace had ever gotten together. 'Brat', 'kid', 'troublemaker'. They were just… words. Familiar, easy, and for the most part, Ace seemed to take them in stride, often with a roll of his eyes or a cheeky grin.
“You shouldn't have left it sitting on the counter for 20 minutes.”
The snarky comeback he expected did not come. In fact, there was not even a noise of protest or agreement. Smoker risked a glance away from the TV, his gaze sliding over to where Ace sat slumped on the couch. He was staring down into his mug, his freckled cheeks flushed a deeper shade than usual. He looked… small.
"What's with you?" Smoker asked, his voice low.
Ace shrugged, not looking up. "Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing."
"Can you just not call me that for a minute?" The words were quiet, mumbled into the tea.
Smoker frowned. "Call you what?"
"'Brat'. 'Kid'." Ace finally looked up, and his eyes, usually so bright and full of fire, were clouded with something Smoker couldn't quite place. "I know you don't mean anything by it, but–” he paused for a minute as if searching for the words to explain but ultimately falling short, instead huffing out an annoyed, “I don't know. It just gets to me sometimes."
Smoker felt a pang of something. Guilt? Annoyance perhaps? He wasn't good at this. People often told him that he was a man of action and horribly blunt, unless he was dealing with kids. It was often a source of compliments and pats on the back for being so professional but being in a relationship with Ace taught him that it was, in fact, a flaw. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the armrest. "Fine," he clipped out. "I won't call you a brat."
Ace's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Thanks."
They sat in silence for a while, the sounds of explosions from the TV filling the space between them. Smoker found himself watching Ace more than the movie. He watched the way he sipped his now-lukewarm tea, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, the way his fingers tapped against the ceramic. He was beautiful. And Smoker was an idiot.
He'd always called Ace those names because it was easy. It kept a certain distance at the beginning, a certain gruff exterior that Smoker relied on. But he knew, deep down, that Ace craved affection. He was needy, always leaning into Smoker's touch, seeking out hugs and casual kisses. He was also, Smoker had come to learn, incredibly sensitive to praise. A simple 'good job' after Ace fixed the wobbly bookshelf had made him beam for the rest of the day.
An idea that was both strange and slightly uncomfortable to him, began to form in Smoker's mind. He couldn't just switch up his entire personality and start spewing sonnets. But maybe—maybe there was a middle ground. where the words wouldn't feel so foreign in his mouth.
The movie had turned into full-on cheese mode. On the screen, the hero bent down and whispered something soft to his partner, calling them some cutesy nickname Smoker didn’t bother listening to, but as he looked over at Ace again, he stopped.
Ace looked… longing. The expression he was making was so sweet and wanting that it made him pause and just admire his boyfriend's angelic expression. He frowned to himself, they didn't do sweet. Their relationship, from the very start, was rough around the edges. push and pull, give and take. He looked away and down on his hands before squeezing them into fists.
He wanted to be the tenderness that Ace yearned for.
“You okay?”
“Mmm, I'm tired, gonna go to bed early tonight.”
“Oh? Alright then I will go get ready too.”
"I'll be in soon. Just gonna finish this up." He gestured to his half-smoked cigar he just stubbed out by habit. Smoker preferred the evening before retiring for the night spent with a good smoke, lost in thought. His eyes traced Ace's form as he slowly got up from the couch, his muscles seemed to ache. The look of pure longing had vanished, replaced by the familiar, relaxed smile that Smoker had come to love and adore, but things weren't the same after he noticed it.
Hmm.
The lights were off, the city lights casting a soft glow through the blinds. Ace was curled against his side, his breathing even. Smoker thought he was asleep until he felt a hand trail tentatively over his chest.
"Smoker?" Ace's voice was a whisper in the dark.
"Yeah?"
"You awake?"
"Obviously."
Ace shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. In the dim light, Smoker could see the outline of his face, the hopeful glint in his eyes. "Are you… in the mood?"
Smoker's body responded immediately, a familiar desire stirring up at Ace’s shy tone. He grunted in affirmation, reaching for Ace and pulling him closer, capturing his lips in a kiss that was more possessive than gentle. This was their language. This was easy. Rough hands, needy kisses, the slide of skin on skin. It was heated and straightforward, and it worked.
But as Smoker's hand slid down Ace's side, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his sleep pants, he remembered his earlier resolution. He hesitated. This was going to be weird. He was going to sound like an idiot. But the memory of Ace's wounded expression in the living room was enough to push him forward.
He rolled them, settling his weight over Ace, caging him in with his arms. He dipped his head, his lips brushing against Ace's ear. "What do you want, Angel?”
The effect was instantaneous.
Ace went rigid beneath him and a sharp gasp escaped his lips. His hands, which had been roaming Smoker's back, flew up to grip his biceps and his nails dug in slightly. "Wh-what?" he stammered, his voice trembling.
‘yeah, they used to call me the Spawn of the devil, a devil child, hah!’
Smoker pulled back just enough to see his face. Ace's eyes were wide, his pupils blown, his cheeks flushed a brilliant red. He looked utterly shocked and so fucking breathtaking Smoker was almost starting regret not doing this sooner.
"I asked what you want, Angel," Smoker repeated, the foreign word feeling clumsy on his tongue, but the reaction it was getting was anything but.
A soft, broken sound escaped Ace's throat. He squirmed, his legs shifting restlessly. "I don't… Smoker–?" He seemed to have lost the ability to form a coherent sentence. Fuckkkkk… that was cute.
He really should have done this sooner.
Ace's hands tightening on Smoker’s arms like he was holding on for dear life. “D-don’t call me that!” he stuttered, his face heating up so fast Smoker swore it could set the room on fire. His ears still flushed pink, maybe even more so than before, and he fumbled with his words, looking anywhere but at Smoker.
“I mean–ah- I'm not—!” He blinked rapidly, tongue tripping over itself, and Smoker almost laughed at how completely undone Ace looked. Smoker pushed his hand down the pajama pants to cup Ace's sex through the underwear, moaning a little at how wet Ace was already.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Ace's mouth, then his jaw, then the pulse point on his neck. Different pet names flickered in his mind, ones he heard while on the clock or out in public before settling on one. "Use your words, baby. Tell me."
That did it. A full-body shudder wracked Ace's frame. He arched up into Smoker and his hand. Grey eyes finally making eye contact and a desperate, needy sound tearing from his chest. "You," he finally managed to gasp out, "I want you. Please." His arms finally came up to warp around his neck pulling Smoker in closer.
That was all the encouragement Smoker needed. He stripped them both with an efficiency that bordered on impatience, his mouth never straying far from Ace's skin. He littered his chest and stomach with open-mouthed kisses, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, all while murmuring a steady stream of praise and endearments.
Smoker's hands roamed Ace's body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the faint ridges of scars, and the soft curves of his waist and hips. His tongue followed the same path, tasting the salt of Ace's skin, the tang of his sweat. Smoker's mouth found one of Ace's nipples and he flicked it with his tongue causing Ace's back to arch. But that was nothing compared to how Ace reacted when Smoker took it into his mouth and began to suck and roll his tongue, his hands smoothing over the sides of Ace's torso, the tip of his tongue nipping.
Smoker paused only to move to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, his licks and sucks eliciting soft moans from Ace. The younger man bucked and squirmed in time with the stimulation. Inhaling deeply Ace's scent, Smoker grunted, he was rock hard and leaking in his boxers but he ignored it for the warm velvety flesh which felt incredible on his tongue and against his lips.
Pulling off with an entirely too loud pop, he observed his efforts with a grin on his face. The nipples were visibly puffier, dusted with a pinkish hue, and glistening from his saliva. A thin string of spit connected his mouth to Ace's chest, and Smoker smiled, satisfied with the marks he'd left. He leaned back, taking in the sight of Ace's heaving chest, the sheen of sweat on his skin, and the faint flush spreading across his freckled cheeks. He was gorgeous like this. Smoker swiped his thumb gently over the pebbled skin, feeling Ace's sharp intake of breath and a tiny squeak.
Ace's face was flushed and he tried in weakness to hide his face in his elbow, his breath coming in short, embarrassed gasps. He peeked at Smoker, and after a moment, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a shy smile.
"Don't hide from me, angel." Smoker tutted.
He snatched Ace's wrist, lifting the younger man's hands from where they had been covering his face. There was a soft crackle of the sound of the joint popping in his hand and Ace had no choice but to drop them down by his side, fingers twitching nervously. Smoker put his hands to good use, sliding them up the insides of Ace's thighs, pushing them apart slightly, letting his rough palms brush against the sensitive skin there. Grinning wickedly, he pressed his body against Ace's, grinding gently until Ace’s body started to writhe against his with a whiney gasped moan.
"Fuckin’ hell, Ace,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. The softer tone he had seemed to use, and the rough feel of his long hair was so intoxicating. Smoker captured Ace's mouth on this, kissing him deeply for several minutes, his tongue possessing Ace's mouth. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Ace's, catching his breath. Only then, did he slide further down Ace's body, his fingertips trailing lightly over the soft skin of his belly and the freckles scattered like constellations on his hips.
"Look at you," he rumbled against Ace's hipbone, his hands gripping his thighs. "So fucking beautiful."
Ace whimpered, his hands fisting in the sheets. He was already so worked up, his body trembling with anticipation. Smoker had never seen him like this. Usually, Ace was enthusiastic, sure, always matching his energy, pushing back, teasing. But now he seemed so… Submissive? The idea of his firecracker boyfriend being submissive almost made him laugh, but there were no other words he could find to describe the look ace had in his eyes.
Smoker settled between his legs, his gaze fixed on the sight before him. Ace's cunt was slick and glistening in the low light of the bedside lamp, his clit flushed and swollen. It was the most intoxicating thing Smoker had ever seen.
"God, you're perfect," he breathed, and he meant it. Perfect in a way that seemed impossible to achieve let alone be natural. Perfect in a way you would see in only unrealistic, bullshit fairytales that promised the ideal. The kind of bullshit Smoker never believed in.
Until Ace.
He didn't wait for a response. He leaned in and licked a slow stripe through Ace's folds. He let his eyes flutter shut and moan into the very core. The vibrations making his angel twitch, trying to get away if not for the hands keeping him pinned in place.
Ace cried out, his back bowing off the bed. "Smoker! Oh, god!"
Smoker did it again, and again, his tongue exploring every inch of him. He savored the taste, the way Ace's hips twitched, the little gasps and moans he was making. He wrapped his lips around Ace's clit and sucked hard.
"Fuck! Fuck—please, don't stop!" Ace's voice was high and breathy, his hands tangling in Smoker's hair, now holding him in place. Smoker had no intention of stopping. Letting go of the thighs, he pushed one finger, then two, inside him, curling them just right to hit that spot that made him see stars.
"That's it, sweetheart," Smoker growled against him, his voice muffled by Ace's flesh. "You're taking it so good for me."
The praise seemed to be Ace's undoing. His legs trembled uncontrollably, his thighs, slick with the sweat, shook lightly against Smoker's broad shoulders. His back arched off the bed, pushing his hips and his eager want deeper into Smoker's skillful mouth, while his hands tugged at Smoker's hair, desperate and so fucking needy.
He was a mess of whimpers and pleas, his body trembling uncomfortably. Smoker could feel him getting close already, the muscles in his pretty thighs starting to shake. Ace panted, his head thrown back in bliss, freckles standing out brightly against his flushed skin. His fingers clamped down as Smoker thrust his fingers causing his body to tense while his convulsions seized control of his muscles.
"Ahh!— god—Ngh- right t-there… Fuck, MMH!".
A trembling moan poured out of Ace's lips as he felt Smoker's tongue circle his clit again and again.
"Come on, Angel," Smoker coaxed, adding a third finger and pumping faster. "Let go for me. I want to feel you come. Be a good boy and come for me, beautiful." Smoker's stubble scraped lightly against ace's already tender skin, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming mix. Each lick, each suck, each probing flick of the tongue sent electric shocks through Ace's body, igniting nerves he hadn't even known existed.
Ace's hips bucked wildly, fucking against Smoker's mouth as he chased his release. "Smoker... Smoker, I'm—I'm gonna—!" He couldn't finish the sentence, his voice choked off by a guttural moan as his organs began to seize. His body tensed, every muscle locking up. The combination of the pet names, the praise, and the relentless stimulation was too much. With a choked sob, Ace came hard. His pussy pulsed, spilling his release onto Smoker's tongue, which lapped it up eagerly, growling in approval.
But Smoker wasn't done yet. He redoubled his efforts, his fingers pumping faster, harder, and deeper while his tongue swirled and sucked, drawing out Ace's pleasure until it bordered on pain. Ace's body convulsed, his inner muscles clenching tightly around Smoker's fingers.
Ace's entire body shuddered, the intensity of his orgasm overriding his every sense. His eyes rolled back, and his mouth opened in a silent scream as his inner walls clenched violently around Smoker's fingers. The sensation was too much, overwhelming his body as waves of intense bliss coursed through him. A warm, gushing sensation flooded from him, coating his inner thighs and the bedsheets beneath his heaving body as he squeezed his legs shut. Keeping Smoker in place and automatically pushing him deeper.
Tears streamed down Ace's cheeks, mixing with the sweat that glistened on his skin. His freckled face contorted in a mix of ecstasy and overstimulation, his eyebrows drawn together in a pained expression. His lips quivered, and a keening cry escaped him as his body went rigid, seized by the sheer force of his release. His hands let go of Smoker's hair, falling limp to his sides as his limbs trembled uncontrollably. His body jerked and spasmed plain, and his head thrashed from side to side as his body remained overwhelmed.
Smoker, sensing Ace's overwhelm, slowed his movements, gentling his touch as he helped Ace ride out the orgasm. He looked up from between Ace's legs and slowed his fingers, pulling one out entirely.
Smoker’s rough, calloused hands gently moved to rest on Ace's trembling thighs—the skin there was already starting to bruise in the shape of his hand, it's going to look gnarly in the morning—spreading them wide and allowing him a moment of reprieve from the relentless stimulation. His lips softly brushed against Ace's tender skin, kissing the folds, and the erect bud with a tenderness that was not present a second ago. The sight of Ace falling apart undid something within Smoker. His eyes softened as he continued to rain soft—and sloppy—kisses upon the tender area, carefully avoiding the overstimulated bundle of nerves.
Ace’s breath hitched in his throat, and he let out a shaky breath relaxing even more against the mattress. His eyes were half-lidded and hazy, his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath. Smoker watched him, a strange mix of awe and smug satisfaction curling in his chest. He'd made Ace come plenty of times, but he'd never seen him completely wrecked like this. It was a devastatingly beautiful sight. Ace's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the sobs that racked his body slowly subsiding into quiet, ragged gasps.
"You okay, baby?" Smoker asked, and tilted his head to the side as he licked his lips, his voice low and concerned but the nickname felt more natural now, rolling off his tongue with an ease that strangely pleased him.
He slowly withdrew the rest of his fingers, which were also slick with Ace's come, and pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss to the inside of his trembling thigh. Ace made a soft, incoherent sound, a hum of contentment that vibrated through his chest. He blinked slowly, his gaze focusing on Smoker with a look of pure adoration. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice raspy. "More than okay."
“Mmm good.” Smoker moved to lie beside him. He propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand coming to rest on Ace's stomach, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath the skin. He traced idle patterns there all while making sure to keep his touch gentle.
They lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds in the room their mingled breathing and the distant hum of the city. Smoker expected Ace to make some snarky comment, to break the spell and return to their usual banter. But he didn't. He just stared up at the ceiling, a small, blissful smile playing on his lips.
"You know," Ace said softly, his voice still thick with pleasure, "I liked that."
Smoker grunted, a noncommittal sound. He wasn't ready to admit just how much he'd liked it too. "Liked what?"
Ace turned his head to look at him, his eyes shining. "The– the names. The way you talked to me." He hesitated, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "It was—nice. Really nice."
Smoker felt a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with arousal. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling awkward. "Yeah, well. Don't get used to it," he grumbled, the words out of habit more than anything. He regretted the lie immediately. So much for trying to be honest to ace from now on.
But Ace just grinned, a knowing, mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. As if he read Smoker's mind or no doubt saw the regret in his eyes. "Too late. You're stuck with it now." He shifted, rolling onto his side to face Smoker fully, his hand coming up to rest on his cheek. "Now," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I think it's your turn."
He leaned in and captured Smoker's lips in a deep, searching kiss. Smoker responded instantly, his arm wrapping around Ace's waist to pull him flush against his body. The kiss was hungry, desperate, and Ace could probably taste himself on his tongue but he seemed unbothered by the taste. Which was pretty fucking hot in smoker's option.
Ace's hand slid down his chest, fingers tracing the line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. He palmed Smoker's hard cock through the wet fabric, earning a low groan. "You're still so hard," Ace whispered against his lips. "All for me?"
"Aha– Always for you," Smoker ground out, his hips bucking into Ace's touch.
Ace smiled a slow and seductive smile, his dimples poking through adorably. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Smoker's boxers and tugged them down, freeing his erection. He wrapped his hand around him, his grip firm and sure, and began to stroke.
Smoker's head fell back, a guttural moan escaping his lips. He fisted his hands in the sheets, his body tensed with need. He was already so close to the edge, his control hanging by a thread.
Ace's mouth was on him then, his lips and tongue driving him wild with pleasure. He took him deep into the warm throat, his movements confident and practiced. Smoker's mind went blank, his world narrowing to the exquisite sensation of Ace's mouth on him.
Smoker was a big man, always has been, naturally everything else about him was big too. Ace struggled to fit it all in the first time they tried to have sex. Ace got better over time when it came to giving head but seeing him still struggle to take him turned smoker on more than it probably should have.
The warm throat stretched obscenely wide around the thick girth. Eyes watering, cheeks flushed a deep red as he gagged and choked, desperate for air but unwilling to pull away. If Smoker was a lesser man he would've came the moment Ace put his mouth on him. forcing himself to breathe through his nose, Smoker tried to grip into his slipping control.
And the fucking tears. “mmfuck– Ace!" he growls, his voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through his chest. The sound of Ace's struggles—his gagging, the wet sucks and slurps as his saliva dribbles down Smoker's shaft— The sight of tears trails down Ace's flushed cheeks, the sound of his choked breaths... It was all so fucking erotic. He loved making Ace cry on his cock
But then Ace pulled away, looking up at him with those wide, innocent teary eyes. "Is this okay, Smoker?" he asked, his voice was sweet, obviously a mockery and a parody of Smoker's earlier words and tone.
The sound of his name, falling from Ace's lips in this context, was like a jolt of electricity straight to Smoker's groin. He let out a choked gasp, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. "F-fuck-ah—Ace. Don't stop."
Ace just grinned, a wicked, triumphant smile, and lowered his head again. He continued his sucking, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, all while murmuring a stream of filthy, sweet nothings when he came up for air.
"You taste so good, Smoker…" he whispered, his breath hot against Smoker's skin. "I love the way you feel in my mouth."
Smoker was lost. The combination of Ace's skilled mouth and the unexpected, intoxicating praise was his undoing. He felt the pressure building at the base of his spine, a familiar telling that promised release. He dug his hand into Ace's hair and pushed the brat's head down, making Ace choke on it fully.
"Ace," he warned, his voice strained. "I'm gonna—"
But Ace didn't pull away. He just hummed and took him deeper, his hand cupping Smoker's balls, his other hand gripping his hip. With a final, guttural cry, Smoker came, his orgasm tearing through him with a force that left him breathless. Ace swallowed every last drop, his tongue lapping at him gently as he softened.
He pulled Ace off as the other began to cough from the amount of come he tried to swallow. Smoker laid on his back for a moment, catching his breath before pushing himself up on his elbows so he could look down at his lap. The sight below made him flush even harder. Ace’s mouth was absolutely wrecked, glistening with the mess that had coated his tongue and lips. A few stray droplets were even clinging to the corner of his mouth, and more , involuntary tears had escaped his eyes, glistening in the dim light. He looked like he’d been thoroughly used.
Smoker felt completely drained, his limbs heavy, his mind blissfully blank. The older man tugged Ace up by pulling on his hair gently, who started crawling back up his body, curling into his side and resting his head on his chest. Smoker wrapped his arm around him, holding him close, his face buried in Ace's hair.
They lay there for a long time, their bodies entwined, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Smoker felt a sense of peace settle over him, contentment he rarely experienced. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Ace's head, and wiped the stray tears off his cheek. His heart swelled with an emotion he was still too proud to name. Yet. But he would soon. It was inevitable after all.
"Go to sleep, Angel. I will clean us up both tomorrow..." he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and something more.
Ace sighed, a happy, contented sound, and snuggled closer. "Okay," he whispered, his voice already heavy with sleep. "Goodnight, Smoker."
Smoker lay awake for a while longer, listening to the steady rhythm of Ace's breathing. It was crazy, really, what a little praise and sweet names could do. And as he drifted off to sleep, a small, rare smile touched his lips.
He could get used to this.
The shrill beep of the alarm cut through the quiet morning air, jarring Smoker from his sleep. He reached out, his large hand slapping the snooze button with practiced ease, ensuring the noise didn't disturb Ace who was still tangled in his arms and nestled against his chest. A faint sliver of sunlight peeked through the slightly parted curtains, casting long, dancing shadows across their naked bodies.
As he pulled himself free from the warmth of his partner's embrace, Smoker leaned down, planting a soft kiss on Ace's shoulder where the skin was warm and inviting.
"Good morning, Ac– Angel." His voice was a gentle, barely above a whisper, half muffled by the warm skin and laced with a tenderness that was becoming increasingly familiar. He would say it whenever he had the chance.
He could do at least that much. If not more.
Getting up and stretching took some time but once he completed his mini routine Smoker reached over to Ace's side of the bed to grab wet wipes from the nightstand. He opened one and gently moved Ace fully on his back before kicking his legs open and sinking down in-between them swiftly, cleaning up the crusty parts. Ace squirmed a little but didn't wake up. Smoker finished cleaning him up and grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser, and softly pulled them over Ace's legs.
He couldn't stop the hiss that escaped him when he looked up.
Ace's neck and chest looked horrible. All red and purple, littered with hickeys and bite marks, his nipples also still looked a little red, meaning ace was shit out of luck if he had any plans for the day. Or if he wanted to wear a shirt for that matter. He leaned down anyway, pressing a quiet, apologetic kiss over one of the darker bruises, his lips lingering for a second before he pulled back.
The room was still heavy with the scent of sex and smoke, a comforting aroma that Smoker had grown accustomed to. It felt right, normal. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this kind of peace in his heart.
But the room needed to be aired out.
Shutting ace's legs, he moved ace back under the covers and tucked him in before moving quietly around the bedroom. His bare feet padded softly on the worn wooden floor as he gathered Ace's narcolepsy medication from the nightstand and plugged in his phone which hadn't charged overnight. He walked over to the closest and opened it to start getting ready for work. Tashigi and he were scheduled to be on the morning shift today.
After getting dressed he brushed his teeth and combed his hair into a neat slick back. Once he was satisfied with his appearance he walked back into the bedroom to open the window and the curtains. The morning light shined through more than before, the chirping of the birds now loud and ever present. Smoker stepped back from the window and quietly went to Ace’s side, kneeling down gently. For a moment he just stayed there, taking in the peaceful, truly beautiful face.
Ace's eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows across his cheeks, and his dark hair fanned out around his head like a halo, each strand catching the light. Even the way his lips rested, slightly parted, made him look both vulnerable and radiant.
Smoker didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, or if he’d done anything at all. What god had taken pity on him and gifted him a man so impossibly perfect—loyal to the bone, stubborn to a fault, fierce in ways that made him ache, yet gentle in moments that left him breathless. He would thank that god every single day, for letting someone like Ace exist in the life of someone like him, for letting him touch, laugh with, fight with, and wake up to a man who made everything feel brighter, more alive.
Even the thought of losing him, of a morning without that soft halo of hair or the never ending sunny smiles and quite intimate nights, was unbearable. Smoker had no illusions that he’d ever fully deserve Ace, but he would be damned if he didn't spend every day trying.
With a final glance at Ace, Smoker carefully reached out and tucked the blankets around his body, ensuring Ace would stay warm and comfortable until he inevitably woke up. He paused, his hand lingering on Ace's cheek, thumb gently brushing away a stray lock of hair.
Smoker leaned in and placed the faint kiss on his soft lips before getting up and walking towards the door. Stepping out of the room he began to close the door behind him.
He paused again just before the door fully shut, willing himself to look at the floor and not look up.
“I love you.”
The door to the bedroom shut with a quiet click as gray eyes flew open.