It’s a mistake. Of course it is, because how could anything done on purpose hit Ace this hard, this badly, hurt him so precisely? Sabo still wants to gut the fucking fisherman who did this though. It’s only Ace’s distraught face that brought him back from the brink the first time. The worried stammers as the guy choked and wheezed, the way he said it’s just for swimming, the bay is already full of monsters- I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I asked and he said he liked swimming-
The follow up is maybe he’ll gut Marco for good measure. For taking one look at Ace and freaking out. Like it wasn’t still Ace under the seal-like fur, like it wasn’t still Ace, horrified that he looked like a monster.
Sabo cracks his knuckles and knocks on the door.
“Go away, Sabo,” he hears Ace say, in full grump mode, but it’s fake; he can hear the way the words catch, and he scoffs.
“Bought you a gift!” he calls, and reaches back to snag Marco’s wrist, tight, pulling him closer to the door. “Open up, jerk. I only accept two weeks without your attention, and if you make me get to week three I’ll start fucking up your ship.”
“Don’t mess with the Moby,” Marco says quietly, eyes narrowed, and the silence on the other side of the door feels poignant. Marco’s eyes flick to the wood, the door that keeps them from Ace, and Sabo watches his tongue flick over his lips. “S’not just Sabo,” Marco says, “I- want to see you too?”
Sabo barely bites back his scoff, and feels Marco’s bones creak under his grip.
“I want to see you,” Marco says, stronger, and then the door swings open and Ace’s tail flicks away from them as he paces to the other side of the room again.
“Seen,” he mumbles, but doesn’t stop them from coming inside. Just cups his hands around his elbows and hunches into himself. “What do you want?”
“Missed you,” Sabo says simply. “Thought you’d want company.”
Oh the laugh that escapes Ace; it’s so bitter Sabo’s surprised it doesn’t sting his tongue. Sabo lets Marco go to close the door behind him, and then leans against it. Marco’s made every excuse he can to get out of being in the same room as Ace for the past two weeks, the tips of his ears red and his eyes guilty, and Sabo’s not having it anymore.
“Thought you and Marco should have a talk.”
“Why?” Ace says softly. “He’s pretty much- made it clear.”
“That I’m an idiot?” Marco says, voice gruff. He’s still shaking, Sabo can see it, but he knows what this costs and he’ll let it play through. “That I was avoiding you because- because I was afraid?”
Ace laughs again, baring his new fangs. “Yeah, I figured that one.”
“No,” Sabo says, one tap of his fingers against his bicep all he allows himself of his rage. “He’s not afraid of this,” chin out to indicate how Ace looms, with claws and teeth and short brown fur, “he’s afraid you’d be pissed because he didn’t protect you, and then he was afraid you’d be upset because he freaked on you for losing control.”
He doesn’t mention the other reason that clogs Marco’s throat. The terrible feeling that he’d been attracted to Ace more when Ace had teeth and claws and strength than when Ace had been first flirting with him. Right now telling Ace that Marco had been attracted to a monster faster than he’d been attracted to normal Ace would go over with the grace of a brick to the skull. Even if Sabo could give the reason - that Marco was attracted to Ace, first and foremost, no matter what he looked like, and wasn’t that just sweet, the fucker-
“I’m sorry,” Marco says, because Sabo trained him in the follow up, when he figured out why Marco had been so messed up about the whole thing. “I should have been there for you. I should have told you sooner- it doesn’t matter what you look like. You’re ours. We love you.”
“And our relationship,” Sabo adds, “which we are not ending, nor will ever end, so get fucking used to it, isn’t gonna get messed up by some stupid bitch with bad timing. We’re not just with you because of what you look like. What you look like matters fuckall. It’s love because of who you are, dipshit.”
This time when Ace laughs it’s lighter, and his lips curve feral, surprised. “I feel like telling me you love me and then calling me a dipshit is counterproductive.”
“Stop being a dipshit then, sweetheart.” Sabo says with a smile, tight and bitchy, and Ace finally grins, amused by his expression, exasperated by his words.
“Imagine how I’d act if I didn’t love you,” Sabo retorts, and finally steps closer. “Now do I get the privilege of making out with you, or are we taking baby steps?”
Ace looks down, his hands tightening around his elbows, and Sabo can hear the tightness in his voice when he says, “Baby steps. Please.”
“Good,” Sabo says, nodding sagely, “Gives me more time to train Marco to put on a better show for you to watch.”
Ace laughs again, and then stutters into silence when Marco reaches out to take his hand. “I’m still sorry,” Marco says softly, and then leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Ace’s mouth, eyelids flinching at the feel of fur instead of skin but still lingering, and Sabo burns with pride. “I should have talked to you, instead of letting you freak out. I never meant to make you doubt that we loved you.”
“S’okay,” Ace mumbles, and were he human Sabo’s sure he’d be blushing.
“It’s not,” Marco says sternly, but when Ace looks up in surprise he gives a soft smile, so fucking adoring that Sabo’s teeth hurt. “But I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
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