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A soft evening breeze rustles the curtains, reddish hues of the setting sun flooding the room and Ace just wants time to stop, for there to never be a time past dusk, never wants to say goodbye...
His head is turned to the window on his left, watching the offending passage of time, his right hand, however, reaches out, searching the spot next to him blindly. But he doesn't have to search, he is found instead, fingers entwining with his just a moment later and a soft kiss pressed to his knuckles.
He turns, watches blue eyes closed reverently, lips still hovering over the skin of his hand, and then these deep pools of blue open, fixing him and Ace couldn't turn away if he wanted to. Moments like these are his whole world. This beautiful man in front of him is his whole world, even if his small, gentle smile never fully manages to hide the sadness that always seems to linger somewhere in his lover's eyes.
“Sabo-” he starts and his voice croaks a little from all the time it hasn’t been used as they were simply basking in the afternoon sun together but he is interrupted.
“I need to go.”
And Ace knows, he knows, though he doesn't know why. He cares less about inquiring the reason that his lover has refused to tell him all these years, though, than he cares about simply loathing that he has to let go, has to let his lover go like this every time.
“You should take a bath at least,” he says. Though they had bothered to clean up at least a little before, Ace knows there are places where the remnants of their earlier passion are still quite evident.
But Sabo just smiles to himself as he sits up.
“I can do that at home.”
And Ace wants to cling to him, entwine their fingers forever and say 'Your home is here!' and it is. No one is waiting for Sabo at “home” but Ace is always here, they're always here together. He just doesn't understand- He sighs, dispelling the thought and sits up as well. He draws close, wraps his arms around Sabo's waist and presses a kiss to his shoulder.
“I can't get you to stay?” he tries but he knows it is in vain.
Sabo closes his eyes, having heard the question so often. Ace doesn't see him do it but rather feels Sabo's whole body relax as he is prone to do. It's a sign of trust Ace cherishes more than anything even when caused by a question that should at best annoy the blond, though he has never seen him annoyed, never seen him angry or even anything of the sort. All he knows Sabo to be is kind and gentle and supportive... and so so profoundly sad, but he doesn't know the reason for this either. Maybe there is a connection, probably so.
But Sabo doesn't want him involved. In all these years Ace has asked and offered time and time again but whatever it is that keeps Sabo away at night, whatever causes this sadness that doesn't go away even when he spends his whole day smiling and laughing with Ace... Sabo has to deal with it alone.
Ace tells himself he doesn't have to but for some reason it seems like he does or at least Sabo is thoroughly convinced of that and there's nothing Ace can do to change that.
They are childhood friends turned lovers, have been together their whole life. The only days in his life since meeting Sabo that Ace hasn't been with the other man were those the blond has spent locked away in his mansion, kept prisoner by his own family. It happened every now and then and while Ace never found out the reason for that either, he doesn't care as much because, no matter what the reason, nothing justified treatment like that by the people meant to love and protect you.
But thankfully - even though it is a cruel thing to say - Ace doesn't have to worry about that anymore as the whole Outlook family was cruelly murdered one day. The culprit was never found and Sabo - thank God and Heaven and everything that's good and precious in this world - remained the sole survivor and heir to the Outlook name, though he abandoned it just as quickly. Not Lord Outlook resides in the Outlook mansion, Lord Sabo does and Ace is so very proud of him.
Sabo, though he doesn't remember any of it, was obviously present the day it happened, the scar covering a big part of the left side of his face forever proof of that. He seemed ashamed of it, ashamed of the fact that he couldn't protect his family, though they never bothered to protect him either, but Ace simply kissed the sensitive, still healing tissue and whispered words of reassurance and love, back then more innocently than he does now. They were not much more than kids when it happened.
Ace is torn from his musing when Sabo starts to shift, obviously aiming to get up, to get going and Ace just grips him tighter and Sabo stills again. Ace loosens his grip, shifts so that he is closer to Sabo's side and reaches up to touch his face, the side still bearing the scar from back then. He turns his lover's head softly until blue eyes are fixed on him again and leans in. Sabo's eyes close instinctively as their lips touch and Ace mimics him, trust and blind reassurance always intensifying the feeling, the softness, the wetness, Sabo's tongue, like velvet, soft and pliant beneath his.
Warmth spreads through his whole body. It's different than the heat Sabo is capable of inflicting in him too but it is just as precious, if not more, a sign that he is only complete with Sabo by his side.
And he wants that, forever, wants it to be official, wants Sabo to live with him, wants to marry him despite the prejudice they will face. Ace is the last of a long line of warlocks that served the Kingdom of Goa. They wouldn't deny his request, they couldn't, and if the local priest refuses, he will just ask a fellow warlock to officiate the wedding. They are less prone to prejudice and much more loyal to their own kin.
But, with his lover refusing to even spend a single night with him, all these plans are in vain. And Sabo knows this to be Ace's biggest wish and he doesn't want to deny him that, he doesn't want to but he feels he has to and the sadness seems to sink deeper and deeper into his being every time he is asked until Ace can't take it anymore and stops. He can't and he won't cause his lover such pain, even if he doesn't understand the reason.
X - X - X
As usual, the moment Sabo is gone, Ace doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. Aimlessly wandering the streets at night is admittedly a rather common pastime for him. He doesn't mind. Being the most powerful creature to reside in Goa there's nothing he has to fear and the clear starry night sky is a beautiful sight to behold, even if he would prefer to share it with someone...
Instead the only one he usually meets during his strolls is the one or other farmer, warning him, retelling past events of deaths and disappearances and every other reason there could be to not be out and about at night. Of course, those are the people not aware of his warlock blood and he doesn't mind their warnings even if he doesn't heed them. Those who do know, now those are a different story.
'Why won't you finally do something?! The wolf- the wolf has struck again!'
Rumors of a werewolf spread in Goa for years now. If he were to believe the townsfolk it claimed a noteworthy number of victims over the years too. The “Ashen Werewolf of Goa” as townspeople started calling it years ago instilled fear in every man, woman and child to this day and Ace had been asked to hunt it down many, many times. He never went, for the simple reason that in all his life here in Goa he never so much as felt the presence of a werewolf. Maybe there is something out there claiming these victims but it definitely isn’t the wolf everyone loves to talk about.
The only thing easing Ace's mind is that he doesn't have to fear that Sabo would ever walk these streets alone at night, as vehement as he is about never leaving the house past nightfall. Maybe that is a selfish thought, but to Ace it is all that really matters.
Tonight though, he meets neither, no demands and no warnings follow him as the night slowly turns dark and ominous.
Ace is just about to decide to go home when he hears it: a high-pitched scream, short and terrified – a girl. He rushes through the darkness, instincts and warlock senses leading him to the source of the sound without fail. He is surprised and admittedly speechless for a moment at what he sees.
The first thing he can't help but think though, apart from the fact that there's no saving the girl - lying on the ground like a lifeless doll, blood splattered over her bright dress – is that the townspeople are wrong.
The creature sitting in front of the lifeless girl isn't ashen. There is simply no other word for it. The wolf is blond, its fur lighter than a light brown but too vibrant to be considered gray.
It is an undeniably beautiful, if grotesque, and dangerous creature to behold. Its legs seem almost too thin for the huge body they carry - reaching up to Ace's shoulder despite its sitting position - with massive paws and claws to scale, the tail on the ground loosely wrapped around its body. Despite it obviously having killed only seconds ago, it seems quite calm and unbothered now.
Its head turns slowly as it finally notices Ace's presence, a warlock's presence naturally harder to catch onto for most creatures, and Ace sees its wide blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight and - Ace's breath leaves him in a rush as if knocked back by an invisible force as he sees it - a prominent burn scar around its - his, Ace is almost sure - left eye.
“Sabo...!”
It is little more than a sound that leaves his lips, though he shouldn't have any breath left to speak. He can't seem to get his lungs to work again.
The creature - Sabo, he has to be! - lets out a sound between a growl and a whine, a sad, ugly sound, but doesn't move to get up even as it bristles.
“Sabo!” he says more strongly as he finally manages to catch his breath.
The creature's eyes narrow, its paws shifting dangerously but it still doesn't get up. There's no recognition, though it seems hesitant to act but he has to be, it couldn't be-
Ace feels it so strongly now, there is no way in hell he'd mistake his lover, his everything and he is right in front of him right now, his real appearance hidden and still shining through so evidently.
Ace just has to reach out, he is sure-
He raises his arm, a small spark in his open palm.
“Apodesmévo...” he whispers and watches the spark turn to flame, a visible manifestation of his magic, merely warm to the touch.
“Sabo...”
He begs, he prays as he sends the flame out, hoping to reach the man he knows to be hidden within the beast.
The wolf stares at the approaching flame, turning its head but making no move to escape, knowing it not to be a threat despite not knowing what it is.
The flame dissolves back into tiny sparks upon hitting its fur and they're so small, so insignificant Ace fears... but the wolf's body freezes.
There's a whine, not even a growl, small and miserable and Ace knows.
“Sabo...” he encourages softly, hopes to gain recognition now.
The creature turns, eyes wide, shining, full of confusion and fear and hurt. Its jaw works, massive fangs clicking together awkwardly.
“...Ace...?”
It's not a voice, not really, barely a sound that leaves him but Ace can only hear his lover and the distress, the pain he is in.
“Shhh, it's alright, you're doing so well,” he hushes him and now that he can finally allow himself to he basically rushes to his lover’s side.
He embraces the massive furry body exactly like he would his lover.
“You're doing so well, stay with me,” he urges softly as he feels Sabo's whole body fidgeting, shaking.
“...Ace...!”
Sabo shakes his head violently and Ace does his best not to get dislocated as he feels his magic warming his palms. He knows Sabo to be strongly disoriented. It's not usual for a lycanthrope to be in a conscious state of mind while turned, but he also knows there only to be one order in which to rightfully return them to their own self.
Free the mind, free the body.
He focuses only on that as he tries to infuse Sabo's body with his magic but there's still resistance, his magic not catching on.
“You're okay, don't resist.”
Please, please, don't resist...!
And he feels the massive body go slack in his arms, feels his magic finally, finally sinking in and he presses a kiss to the soft fur.
“Just like that, relax.”
And the moment he feels his magic sink in, he feels his power draining. He has never done this before. He's not a healer and lycanthropy is nothing like a wound, nothing like an illness, it is a thorough change of body and mind.
He doesn't know how much of his magic he is using now and he doesn't care, he has never needed it as much as he does right now.
Sabo is shaking vehemently, stronger than before. Ace sees the fur glowing softly before falling like leaves from a tree, dissolving into thin air. A rush of noise hits his ears, deafening him as the body in his arms seems to shrink bit by bit.
As the noise disappears, the silence of the night takes over again.
Ace feels his magic thrumming weakly within him and another body presses weakly against his chest, hands, not paws, cling to him desperately. All Ace can see is a head of disheveled blond hair and he wraps his arms tighter around the shaking form, pressing his lips to his lover's head in comfort. He hears sniffling, whimpering, feels hot wetness seep into his shirt as Sabo winces at the slightest movement.
Ace can't imagine the pain, the strain on both body and mind from a transformation like that.
He lets go of Sabo, trying not to jostle him too much but he winces anyway, and pulls off his coat to drape it around his lover's naked form, miserably freezing in the night air.
“Sabo...” he says softly, pressing his cheek against his lover's head, offering silent comfort.
It takes a long time before the shivering lessens and the whimpers fall silent, until he doesn't shy away from the lightest jostle anymore. He feels Sabo's body calm and waits patiently, although he couldn't be more impatient for Sabo to finally lift his head from his chest and look at him.
And when he finally does... he looks so miserable, eyes helplessly red, tears still streaming down his face.
“...Ace...”
His voice croaks and breaks on the single syllable and Ace just hugs him closer, cheek pressed to cheek.
“It's okay, you need to rest,” he urges, wanting to hear his voice but not wanting him to strain himself any further.
He's here, in his arms, and that is all that matters.
Ace wants to move, knows they need to but deems it too early for Sabo, so they continue to sit in silence and slowly the reality of the situation dawns on Ace.
Sabo, the Ashen Werewolf of Goa that instilled terror in the townspeople for as long as he can think. He couldn’t have felt its presence, his presence is the most familiar of them all to him.
And Ace's heart stops when he finally realizes.
They sent hunters after Sabo for years. He might not have returned one day and Ace would never ever have known the reason! He could have lost everything and been powerless to do anything about it.
An immense fear grips his heart, though he rationally knows now to be the least moment he should be scared. Now, with Sabo safe in his arms, not to be let go for even a moment, but he can’t help it. Tears roll down his face, mixing with Sabo's where their cheeks meet and Ace pulls him closer, impossibly closer as his mind repeats a mindless mantra of 'Sabo, Sabo, Sabo...!'
And if after a while his lips continue that same mantra, then he really can't be bothered to stop.
X - X - X
Sabo is curled up on the couch, arms basically wrapped around his knees. The thick blanket draped over his shoulders almost completely hides the soft blue pajamas that are almost ridiculously fluffy and comfortable but Sabo needs every little bit of comfort he can get right now.
His hair is still wet from the bath Ace drew for him the moment they returned and the cup of tea in his hands still steaming but his eyes... are empty, staring at something invisible in front of him.
“Are you okay? Can I get you anything else?” Ace inquires softly, not that Sabo asked for any of the things Ace did for him. He hasn't uttered a single word the whole time. At Ace's question he merely shakes his head, even though considering the question that isn't a clear answer at all.
Ace figures there isn't much he can do anyway, so he finally sits down as well. He is just as thoroughly exhausted and tired as Sabo has to be but he is also high-strung, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.
“Sabo...” he says softly though he doesn't even know where to begin.
The blond sighs audibly and lifts his head insecurely, almost shyly but he meets Ace's gaze head-on and Ace knows he is as prepared to talk as he will ever be given the situation.
“Thank you... for everything,” Sabo mumbles softly and Ace almost literally falls off the couch, his mouth opened in disbelief though no words come out.
“Is that really the first thing you feel the need to say? Sabo! You are-”
“A werewolf?” Sabo laughs humorlessly and Ace fixes him with a serious stare.
“Sabo.”
The blond averts his gaze, returning to soft mumblings.
“I'm sorry.”
It is not what Ace wants from him but he feels, he hopes, Sabo is prepared to seriously listen to him now and maybe respond in kind.
“When were you bitten?” Ace asks carefully, but he really sees no way to ease into this topic.
He never noticed any changes in Sabo's behavior. He can't remember if anything significant happened before Sabo became the way... well, the way Ace is used to him being, beautiful and perfect, but apparently never truly happy.
Sabo takes a deep breath, his head turning to look at Ace again.
“I was basically still an infant,” his voice is soft, almost as if speaking to himself but Ace hears him well enough and his eyes widen.
“You survived?”
The idea of a child, an infant even, surviving any kind of contact with a werewolf, is hard to believe.
Sabo just nods.
“My parents never told me any details but yes, obviously I... survived.”
His gaze darkens and Ace's worry for him multiplies tenfold. Does Sabo regret living? Ace doesn't know if he could bear if Sabo did.
To avoid that train of thought Ace tries to focus on other matters first now that he finally, finally is about to learn about the things that always bothered him. Sabo finally opening up, if not entirely willingly, turns out to be a dream and a nightmare at the same time.
But what Sabo tells him really doesn't surprise him. The nobles and their delusions of grandeur, he can almost perfectly envision the stupidity that must have gotten their near-infant child to get bitten by a werewolf. That they survived, Sabo especially, is more surprising. But Ace is thankful, eternally thankful that he has.
“You turn every night?”
It is not exactly common for lycanthropes but it is the only logical conclusion with Sabo so vehemently being against even the idea of spending a single night anywhere but in his own home.
Again, Sabo nods curtly.
“Yes.”
And Ace can't even imagine the toll it must have taken on his body, especially young Sabo - his body still in the middle of development - and the excruciating pain lycanthropes go through during every single of their transformations.
And suddenly Ace can't breathe, remembering so clearly... The signs were always there but never would he have suspected that-
It occurred less and less often but he clearly remembers a time when, especially in the early morning hours, Sabo would wince at sudden movements, or generally move stiffly and haltingly as if his body didn't quite belong to him.
“They-” Sabo begins but clears his throat again before starting anew.
“My parents had me see a priest when I was younger.”
And Ace has to stop himself from snorting at the mention of a priest. A priest's blessing would never even come close to a warlock's magic when it came to things like supernatural illnesses.
“It... helped but not for long. At least the first years after the bite I think I didn't turn at all but... when I first turned, I think I was... maybe 10 years old.... After that... there was nothing even the priest could do to suppress it. The worst nights my parents would just lock me in my room.”
And suddenly Ace feels like he has been living a lie this whole time. Things he thought he knew turn out to be the exact opposite.
“Then the incident...” Ace mumbles. He isn't sure but with dread filling his mind he realizes that it would only make sense.
Sabo nods, slowly, almost as if in trance.
“It was me, or not me but... I... I killed them.”
His voice is monotone, void of emotions, but Ace knows it's not because he is actually unaffected, the opposite really, and even with Sabo's questionable relationship with his parents and Ace's clear dislike toward them he can't even begin to understand what Sabo must have gone through. Killing... Sabo's kind, gentle demeanor couldn't be farther from such horrible acts. And yet he has killed... many times, maybe daily, no one really knew, not even himself.
And again, things start to make so much more sense. Sabo taking the blame for the death of his family... It wasn't just because he felt responsible, but because in a way he actually... undeniably... was.
“Your scar...”
Sabo smiles ruefully at the mention.
“It's the only moment I was conscious that night. It was my father, he-”
He groans, apparently dropping the thought.
“It's not an actual burn scar,” he says instead, “it's-”
“Silver,” Ace finishes the sentence the moment the realization hits him.
Another nod.
“I couldn't see anything for a while and still it was the only moment I was painfully aware of what I was doing.”
He retells these events clearly detached from his actual memories, the actual emotions he must have felt at that moment but Ace is still glad he is telling him at all.
“Were you aware before that? I mean they obviously had you see a priest but did you know?”
“That I'm a werewolf?” he laughs again, that humorless sound that Ace hopes to never hear again if only he can help Sabo now, if only Sabo will finally accept his help.
“Yes, I always knew. At least I have known as long as I can think. I didn't just stay away because I woke up every morning with no recollection of the night prior. Nothing but faint, blurry images and- and the sound of screams in my ears...”
And Ace can almost see the walls break, the carefully constructed walls hiding away his real feelings, quite possible the same walls that always kept the ever-present sadness there, visible but never quite within reach.
Ace gets up, takes the cup - the tea barely lukewarm now but still untouched - from Sabo and, after carefully depositing it on the nearby table, simply wraps himself around the other man, pulling him tightly against his chest with no intention of ever letting go again if he can help it.
It's as if Sabo gives up then, clinging to Ace's shirt and hiding his face - and the fresh tears - against his chest.
Ace lets him be, lets the soft sniffling and hiccups wash over him as he simply holds Sabo close, carefully, comfortingly stroking his back.
Sabo has always, always kept these feelings locked away. Ace knows this to be the time for Sabo to just finally let them out instead.
He knows Sabo will feel better afterward, if only marginally, so Ace can only offer silent comfort for the time being.
X - X - X
Sabo lies in bed, the soft rise and fall of his chest indicating how close to sleep he is, though he is still blinking sleepily at Ace who cards his fingers through his soft hair.
He can only imagine how exhausted Sabo must be, after the transformation and the following emotional strain...
Ace notices a shift in the mood - it's not the first since Sabo calmed down again - and he looks down at his lover worriedly.
“I killed them in cold blood...”
It is said so softly, yet Ace feels like someone yelled right into his ears.
He leans down, closer, to whisper: “You did no such thing. You're not even capable of it.”
“But I'll do it again...”
“You won't,” and the conviction with which Ace says it must surprise Sabo as he looks up at him with wide eyes.
“C-can you-”
But he averts his gaze before he can even finish the question, most likely too afraid to even hope for anything.
“Why did your parents never even think of visiting a warlock? Everyone knows a priest could never even hope to come close to our powers,” Ace asks instead.
“You know how they were. Never would they come down and ask for help from a warlock,” he spits the word in a near perfect imitation of his late parents.
It doesn’t take long for Sabo's eyes to search his again though, hope still lingering there, flickering like the light of a candle about to go out.
“Can you... make me human again?”
Ace's gaze softens as he pulls Sabo closer.
“I can keep you from turning every night, except for the night of the full moon. The bond between a werewolf and the full moon is something even I can't severe.”
Sabo's eyes are shining, filling with tears once again as he throws himself at Ace, burying his face in his chest.
“That's- that's more than enough,” his voice is breaking and Ace is just glad to notice that, for once, it is not out of sadness.
“I can be human again,” and it is said with such reverence that Ace can only smile softly.
“You've always been,” he says.
“You're the most beautiful human being I have ever laid eyes on.”
Sabo stills, lifting his head and the redness on his cheeks is not only due to the tears still lingering in his eyes.
“Ace...”
Ace just grins, mischief and a profound longing warring within him.
“You can't deny me anymore,” he says, “now that I know even your darkest secret, there's nothing that could surprise me anymore, nothing that could ever make me change my mind. Not that there ever was.”
And Sabo's eyes widen, no doubt knowing exactly what he is up to, after having been asked oh so many times.
“So please, please don't deny my greatest wish any longer. I want to live with you, I want to be with you, always! I want to know when you're sad and I want to know why! Why did you keep this from me? You knew-”
“I couldn't forgive myself if any harm befell you, much less if I could be the one causing it,” Sabo interrupts him somberly.
“But I-”
“I couldn't trust you!” Sabo says and his eyes are full of fear, of panic, of Ace's possible reaction, so he doesn't do anything. Ace simply waits, undeniably hurt but still curious about what Sabo has to say.
“Not because I can't, I do, I do trust you but I can’t trust myself! Everything that could happen just because I can't control myself. I couldn't risk it. I wouldn't, even if I were put into the same situation again, I wouldn't. There's nothing more important than your-”
Ace doesn't even let him finish before he kisses him, passionately, and Sabo, surprised, adapts quickly and responds in kind.
Ace knows, of course he knows how much Sabo loves him, has known for years but hearing it like that. It makes his heart swell with pride and warmth and happiness.
And now, more than ever, he knows exactly what he wants, what he needs.
As they separate he looks directly at Sabo, his wide eyes, his reddened cheeks. He waits till they have both regained their breath but not a second longer.
“Marry me, Sabo,” he says and realizes it's a demand more than a question, but he has asked so many times before.
Sabo looks at him, eyes still unbelievably wide, and he bites his lip as he averts his gaze, staring at their entwined hands which neither has any recollection of entwining.
Ace knows this, has seen this moment many times before being told that there was no way, before realizing that Sabo still won’t ever accept his help-
“Yes...”
It is said so softly Ace almost misses it the first time it is said but Sabo looks at him then, deep pools of blue unclouded by doubt. There's no hesitance there anymore as their gazes meet.
“Yes, please- I want- I want to marry you! I've always-”
But again, Ace doesn't even let him finish and instead seals their lips together, an unspoken promise, a vow he intends to hold with his whole life.
A tiny flame comes to life in his hands as he calls to his magic to retrieve something, long hidden but never forgotten.
Sabo stiffens for a moment, noticing the action, and looks at Ace curiously.
Ace doesn't even say anything as he opens a blue velvet box to reveal the ring he bought years ago, back when he had first decided to ask, only to be crushed by the refusal.
The band within is still simple, thin white gold with small embedded sapphires just like he asked.
And Sabo just stares at him, stares at the ring, and his mouth opens and closes, not unlike a fish, with no sound escaping.
“You can't-” he says but never finishes the sentence.
“You've always had that?” he asks instead, eyes wide in wonder.
He must have been about to mention a warlock's inability to just call things out of nowhere, merely able to call for things that are already there.
“I did,” he replies simply, smiling, “I wouldn't have asked if I didn’t.”
And there's sadness there, Ace sees it lurking, but never again will he tolerate it, so he pulls Sabo close again.
“I knew you'd say yes eventually. And you did and that's all that matters,” he says and he means it with his whole heart.
Sabo smiles at him then, weakly, but his eyes almost fall closed and Ace knows it's not because he isn't happy.
“Now sleep,” he urges softly, carefully slipping the ring onto Sabo's slender finger, “everything else can wait till tomorrow.”
He is sure he didn't even have to say anything as Sabo blinks at the ring on his finger, smiles, and not a moment later his exhaustion visibly catches up to him, his breathing evening out, as the blond practically falls asleep curled against Ace's chest.
Ace can't help but smile as he carefully lowers his lover into a more comfortable position on the bed before draping himself around him, close, securely, never to let go again.
In the end the first night they ever spend together is far from perfect but Ace couldn't care less as long as he is finally able to hold his lover close as he sleeps.