Work Text:
Snipe had a problem.
A tall dark handsome extremely stressed problem. Seriously, Snipe didn't know anyone that worked as much as his Chief Commander, even the renowned workaholic Samson down in the Archives who was rumoured to be living in the vast warren of paperwork. Maybe Dark Ace is related to him? He certainly sees the guy disappearing into the Archives often enough, dropping off papers then emerging with even more to add to the paperwork mountain range constantly dominating his desk.
Anyway the point was, Snipe had a problem. It turns out that trying to get a workaholic's attention for anything other than work is near impossible, especially when you never seem able to come up with the words to say ‘hey I like you let’s date’, only less stupid. He knew Dark Ace was bisexual from one of Ravess’ rants about the bosses rants about that Sky Knight from Xerxes hitting on him but not being his type. If only he could figure out what type Dark Ace did like. Was it muscles? Snipe hopes it’s muscles. He hasn’t exactly got the brains to catch anyone’s attention so he can hardly match wits with the man.
But that’s what made Dark Ace so damn attractive, not just his looks but he was smart. Like borderline freakish smart. In an adorably dorky kind of way that he constantly toned down so he didn’t intimidate the annoying nobles that constantly made the poor guys life a living hell. He was the Boss, he knew how Talons worked, which douchebags brought down morale because they were on power trips and needed ‘reminders’ to not be dicks, when to reward those who weren’t assholes with better pay or vacation time, hell even just making sure the food in the canteen was up to scratch.
That last thing might have been what made Snipe really fall for the guy, an army ran on its stomach. Boss had not only staggered mealtimes so everyone got a chance at a full fresh hot meal three times a day, but really upped the quality of meals. Gone was the suspicious gruel, in its place was protein multi-vitamin shakes in three flavours to go along with a full menu of three to four options. Vegans were thrilled that they no longer had to exist solely on potatoes or sad looking lettuce.
Dark Ace always took care of them no matter how much he yelled, then when the Empress died he had to step up to take care of Master Cyclonis. Anarchis had been an absolute control freak so the poor kid hadn’t been taught how to do any of the vital ruler duties, leaving Dark Ace to scramble about holding up the Empire alone while the Master taught herself what to do. With the boss so busy caring for everybody, being run ragged trying to catch the Storm Hawks, Snipe started to wonder.
Who was taking care of Dark Ace?
Being buds with the canteen chefs made it possible to figure out that Dark Ace didn’t come down for regular meals, often only eating once a day. In theory he’s eating something else otherwise he’d been fainting constantly, but still. Nutrition was important. Especially when Dark Ace was the one facing off against Sky Knights most often, all it took was one little dizzy spell because you skipped lunch and boom, death. Snipe wasn’t exactly subtle, but no one told him to back off so he kept enquiring, trying to figure out if it was a case of Dark Ace not liking what’s on offer or some kind of dietary issue. It wasn’t gluten intolerance, or dairy, yogurts and bread seemed to be the guys default for what few meals he did show up for. Same with vegetables. He’d seen Dark Ace go to town on a chicken chow mein once so he does eat meat…
In the end Snipe gave up on trying to puzzle it out and decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing a burger, fries, salad and shake after he’d finished eating lunch to take to Dark Ace personally once it was clear he wasn’t going to show up in the cafeteria. Once he enters the office without knocking, Snipe mentally kicks himself. It wasn’t the food that was the problem, it was the time. Boss had given him a weird look but hadn’t complained. When Snipe had dropped by later to hand over some reports (he’d bugged Ravess to help him fill them all out properly) the tray had been empty.
Now knowing the root of the problem, Snipe had made it his personal mission to make sure Dark Ace was fed. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about their hectic schedules. To make sure Dark Ace didn’t have to work so hard, Snipe had to work hard. But because Snipe was working hard, he kept running out of time to swing by the cafeteria for anything more than to eat. And that only worked if Dark Ace wasn’t out leading raids or inspecting factories. It just wasn’t acceptable. So Snipe came up with a plan.
Maybe it was a little simplistic, but what mattered was that the plan worked. He bought a lunchbox. Rather, several lunchboxes, fancy ones with all the little tubs and compartments as well as little ice packs he could put in the keep salads or yogurt pots cold. Every evening he’d cook something tasty, always two meals worth, pack it up in the lunch box then leave it on Dark Ace’s desk whenever the man was at the Citadel. Whenever boss was due to go out on patrols or lead raids he’d make sure to pack mostly long lasting snack foods like cheese, crackers and granola that he could easily eat while flying from A to B. If there’s one thing Snipe is really good at (other than smushing things) it’s cooking. Even Ravess agrees, and she’s a monumental bitch about almost everything to do with Snipe.
All this led to Snipe stopping by Dark Ace’s office in the evenings to collect the empty lunch boxes, the brawler always getting a little thrill seeing evidence that his crush actually liked his cooking. Except one day when he snuck in, Dark Ace was still there. Fast asleep, slumped over onto his paperwork snoring quietly. Carefully, he retrieves the lunch box then pauses right by the door. Boss had taken a nasty hit the other day. Everyone had heard about the close call, damned Triton. Luckily it was just a bruise to his back but… falling asleep like that, it had to hurt…
Edging closer, Snipe sighs in relief as he notices the painkiller jar locked in Ace’s hand. That explains things. Feeling bolder he carefully scoops up his boss, trying not to feel too much like a creep as he gently cradles the man in his arms. Certain Ace wasn’t waking, Snipe makes the short trip to the battered sofa at the back of the office to gingerly deposit the slender warrior on its soft cushions. A bit more fussing later and he drapes a blanket over Ace for good measure. It gets chilly in the Citadel at night. Assured that boss won’t be waking up in agony, Snipe grabs the empty lunchbox and rushes home to start cooking for tomorrow.
Then it kept happening.
He’d find Dark Ace passed out in his office after one crisis or another, move him to the sofa or just wrap him in a blanket. Every time he fully intends to come clean, confess when it becomes clear Dark Ace has no idea who his mystery admirer is, he either chickens out or the chief commander is asleep. Or worse, he finds poor Ace so stressed that he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown. Those times he hangs around making affirmative sounds while the warrior rants about Cyclonia going to hell. He’s got no clue what Ace is talking about most of the time but he recognises names and makes sure to pay closer attention to anything those people say. Sometimes he even gets good blackmail material! That always cheers Ace up. Dark Ace. Boss. Commander.
Because even if the warrior actually seemed to be nicer to Snipe, tolerated him more and yelled less, they were still just coworkers. Because the time was never right.
Then Dark Ace got sick.
Some new strain of gleep fever that could be deadly to anyone who hadn’t been exposed to a milder rarer form of the virus. Snipe had contracted said rare virus eating at a questionable taco stand last year and hallucinated something awful. Being one of the few people guaranteed not to die from exposure, Snipe had eagerly volunteered to take care of Dark Ace. He wasn’t even that offended by Master Cyclonis’ skepticism, promising that if the boss's fever got too high or he displayed certain symptoms he’d call in the medics immediately. As it was, there really wasn’t anyone else capable of pinning Dark Ace in case the hallucinations got out of hand. It was different for everyone. If Dark Ace hallucinated he was trapped someplace there’s every chance he’d break out and infect others.
Poor Ace, he was lucid for the most part, taking showers unaided, eating whatever Snipe put in front of him, mostly just curling up in bed whimpering quietly as he suffered. Snipe feels like such a dick the few times Ace ‘slipped’, murmuring to himself and slurring as a few curious questions send him on emotional tangents. Worse were the moments Snipe stumbled across something private, the brawler horrified at what he’s learned.
Ace, warrior, badass, leader, idol… had never been invited to a birthday party. Had never had a birthday party, because ‘everyone who cared was dead or abandoned him anyway’. Snipe learns his boss had ‘grown up’ on Saharr, another Sand Rat orphan thief shunned and picked on for existing. Ace didn’t even know his own birthday, he’d been abandoned so young he couldn’t remember the date (assuming anyone had ever celebrated it before then). He wasn’t even sure how old he was. Worse… in over ten years of living in Cyclonia, no one had actually cared enough to ask. Snipe had been horrified when Ace had started crying, no sobs, just tears rolling down his face as he rasped the most heartbreaking thing Snipe had ever heard. “Everyone only likes me ‘cause I’m useful. Even then it’s never enough.”
How do you prove to someone that others do care when they’ve been completely isolated, even by accident? Even the Storm Hawks hadn’t cared, turns out the assholes had been robbed blind by some other Sand Rat then grabbed the first scruffy looking orphan they could to blame. It was only after they’d made a spectacle of themselves that they realised they’d arrested the wrong kid. That was when they’d oh so kindly given the boy ‘a second chance’ as a member of their crew. Scrubbing shit stained toilets, flying into danger without a weapon, endless grunt work for pittance. Ace had missed the sands, he’d eaten better stealing from Saharran markets than what the Storm Hawks fed him. It’s why he had such little appetite, old habits of making his meager rations last. He’d leapt at the chance to get away from Lightning Strike’s ego. Killing the man was just a bonus by that point.
Snipe had bundled Ace in more blankets then hugged the hell out of him, vehemently insisting that he cared. Others did too. Maybe. But Snipe cared for sure! By then Ace had slipped into a sort of comatose state, staring blankly at the wall in a way that creeped Snipe out royally. His fever had peaked, requiring medical intervention. The doctors had kept giving Snipe weird looks for hugging the commander so much but he was past caring. They didn’t get it, Ace thought no one cared! At this point chickening out wasn’t an option, Ace had to know that someone in Atmos would miss him.
So Snipe endured the weird looks, sat in the mountain of snotty tissues, dunked his pitiful looking friend in the bath as needed (they’re friends now, no matter what) and fed him as much nutritious healthy food as Ace could stomach.
Finally, the fever broke.
Ace hadn’t felt quite this shit in a long time. He vaguely recalls the first time he was bitten by a young cobra, that had sucked. To make matters worse his memory was hazy, almost like he’d dreamed the past… how long has he been sick?
Suddenly his eyes shoot open as he hears movement in his kitchen. Fuck. He’d completely forgotten, fuck knows what Snipe had seen or learned while babysitting. While the brawler had certainly been hanging around more often of late, Ace would hardly call him a friend. Ace didn’t have friends… he’d given up on that fairytale. Everyone was either too intimidated by him, or wanted to challenge him, or worse fawned over him like some trophy to attain. Cyclonis was by far the most amicable towards him but that was about it.
A sigh turns into a coughing fit, alerting Snipe that he was awake. Fuck. Grabbing some tissues Ace hacks up some green monstrosity that he quickly flings into an overflowing trash can. Ugh. He feels disgusting.
Peeling himself out of bed (literally, he’s cringing at the sweat soaked fabric) he beelines for the shower, scrubbing himself furiously and making sure to wash his hair twice over to be safe. Dressed in some clean long sleeved pyjamas, he cautiously ventures out in search of Snipe. It could have been worse, it could have been Ravess. Fuck knows what kind of blackmail material that conniving bitch would have tried to extort from him. He discovers the man slaving away over the stove, bustling about making some kind of soup. Onion and garlic judging by the fact he can actually smell it all the way by the door. Rubbing his eyes, Ace cautiously approaches the kitchen table, absolutely not prepared for the way Snipes face lights up once he catches sight of him.
“You’re up! Great, hope you’re hungry.” That’s it, no threat, no hints of blackmail material, just… straightforward, genuine sentiment. Was he still hallucinating? Lost in his thoughts Ace jumps when a bowl of soup appears in front of him, immediately salivating when a side plate with half a loaf of bread fresh out the oven is placed next to it. Snipe sits down opposite and immediately digs in, not seeming put off from eating ‘sick food’ even though he looks perfectly healthy. Cautiously, Ace tears off a piece of bread to dip in the soup. It’s delicious. Yet somehow familiar.
Wait.
“It was you?!” Ace declares incredulously, the pieces slotting together. His mystery admirer, the magic refilling lunchboxes, that was all Snipe?!
Ace had been trying to figure out who was being nice to him for months! Even falling asleep at his desk trying to catch the lunchbox lurker in the act, though it always failed. His brief sense of victory at solving the puzzle quickly dissolves. Does this mean… it’s over? Were the lunchboxes dependent on Snipe staying anonymous? Had he fucked it all up?
Nervously he wipes his face with his sleeve, pausing when he realises something extremely important. He’d forgotten his makeup. Instantly he feels like bolting, delicious food be damned, glancing rapidly from Snipe to the bedroom door. He’d been so careful all these years! Ever since fucking Lightning teased him for his freckles. He’d been living on Saharr, of course his freckles were prominent living in a fucking desert biome. Once, the asshole had drawn on his face while he was sleeping ‘connecting the dots’, after that he’d begged Starling for a makeup tutorial and some concealer then refused to be seen without it. Sure they’d faded somewhat over the years, but still…
Snipe gets flustered, blushing and shoving a lump of bread in his mouth as an excuse not to speak. Once he’s finished eating though he still looks Ace dead in the eye, not seeming to even glance or worse stare at the freckles scattered across the slender warrior's nose and cheeks. “Ok so… I was gonna tell you about that… but every time I came by you were asleep so…” He does a little awkward hand gesture.
Ace feels frozen, like his brain has just stopped working. Snipe had… all this time? “What do you want?” That's the crux of the issue. No one does something just for the warm fuzzy feeling, especially in Cyclonia. As he expected, Snipe starts to squirm. Resigned to yet another attempt at being extorted, Ace leans back in his chair, wearily attempting to brace himself for yet more betrayal.
“Willyougooutwithme?”
What?
“What?” Ace stares blankly. Snipe squirms, poking at his half eaten soup. “I kinda, maybe, have been trying to… er… ask you out. On a date. For a while.” A date? That… was it? Red eyes drift back down to his soup as if it holds all the answers. Nobody had ever… they’d asked for sex, tried blackmailing him into it even but… a date? Like, an actual relationship? Other than some stalkers obsessed with the idea of him, nobody that actually knew him well ever wanted to spend time with him. He’d never been invited to any parties, hangouts or just to be around others without some ulterior motive. How could Snipe, who he’d insulted on a near daily basis for years, want to go on a date with him?
“We’re friends now by the way. So, yeah. Even if a date doesn’t work out cause… you’re smart, like scary cool smart, and I’m me. And you got tons of things you’d probably wanna do instead… but er… yeah, we’re friends.” As much as he tripped over his own words, Snipe sounded sincere, was being sincere. Of that much Ace was certain, unfortunately he had no idea what to do. Or say. He… had a friend?
Snipe stared in horror as his crush started crying at his declaration. His heart had already done some painful twists at how lost Ace had looked when he announced they were friends, no strings attached, now it was hammering against his ribcage. Fuck it. Stepping around the table he pulls Ace into a hug, careful not to squeeze him too tight. His poor friend feels so delicate, weak from his sickness and so emotionally wrung out that he’s trembling. Taking the lack of insults or stabbing as permission Snipe starts rubbing over his back in small soothing circles, feeling pleased with himself when Ace melts against him. He's so cute! But no, bad Snipe, this is friend time, not crush time.
“Ok.” Ace croaked, still not pulling away from the hug. It takes every fiber of Snipes self control not to start doing a victory dance. So what if it took eight months? He got a date with Dark Ace!!!
Ravess didn’t believe it. She didn’t believe it when Snipe burst into her quarters crowing about finally getting a date with Dark Ace. She didn’t believe it when she let herself into Snipes apartment two weeks later to raid his fridge and found the two curled up together on the sofa hiding beneath a blanket as they watched a scary horror movie. She refused to believe it when she’d dropped by Snipes’ apartment first thing to see Dark Ace wandering out of the bedroom finishing putting on his uniform.
“You’re fucking Dark Ace?!” She’d hissed, annoyed when Snipe just rolled his eyes. “No! I’m dating Dark Ace! We just cuddle.” No, she absolutely didn’t believe it, no way in the nine territories was Dark Ace in any way shape or form romantically attached to her dumbass baby brother.
She had to admit though, they’d certainly schemed together to make up a new system to save everybody time. Whenever Dark Ace was stuck in heated ‘debates’ with greedy nobles who wouldn’t shut the fuck up he’d tap a code into his private comm, then Snipe would burst in demanding Ace’s presence to fix a Very Important Issue. He’d accidentally burst in on a meeting with Cyclonis once after she’d disrupted one of the nobles' meetings by dumb luck. Thankfully she found it rather amusing, making the code now standard procedure. It certainly helped her stay more involved in politics the nobles were trying to keep her out of, and she loved the look on Duke Selwycks face when she walked in while he was mid-rant about ‘children having no place in politics’. Good times.
Poor Dark Ace however had gotten a lot of backlash from one of Snipes more well meaning gestures. Ravess had been equally as horrified to learn Dark Ace didn’t have a birthday, immediately marching down to the medical wing to interrogate some medics on Snipes behalf. As it turned out there were procedures in place for rather accurately assessing someone’s age. A thorough scan and examination later revealed Dark Ace was actually younger than he thought. Much younger.
His ID had been updated from being 28 years old to 24. There’d been a huge uproar when people realised he’d been doing legal adult duties when he was actually much younger (which annoyed him as he apparently didn’t even like alcohol), his title of ‘youngest commander in a century’ now firmly cemented in place. Snipe had gotten very aggressive in defense of their Chief Commander, not hesitating to thrash any assholes he catches muttering about ways to overthrow Dark Ace.
Ravess had been sensible about the whole thing and implemented a new policy for all Talons that were born outside the empire to undergo the same tests as Dark Ace. Really, some idiot should have checked the moment he’d officially defected to Cyclonia. Alas, what’s done is done. Furthermore, the examination had revealed Dark Ace had impacted wisdom teeth that were failing to erupt. Which had led to Snipe begging her to cover for both himself and their boss so he could babysit his ‘boyfriend’. Ravess still refused to believe Dark Ace was Snipes' boyfriend.
At least she’d managed to extort a promise from Snipe to cook her whatever she wanted for a whole week in exchange.
Snipe cooed at his miserable boyfriend, gently kissing his hair. He thought Ace looked like a cute grumpy chipmunk with his freckles and puffy cheeks. Thankfully the wisdom tooth extraction had gone well, all four were removed in one go. If only poor Ace wasn’t suffering so much, he’d spent a whole day eating only pudding. Other than adjusting himself slightly to nuzzle a frozen bag of peas pressed against his jaw Ace refuses to move from his spot, more than happy to be the little spoon with Snipe wrapped around him.
To the young warriors surprise, Snipe was far smarter than he realised, it was just more practical intelligence than theoretical. It wouldn’t have occurred to Ace to just move the projector and tape up a bedsheet to the wall so they could watch a movie comfortably in bed while he recovered. Snipe always got so flustered whenever Ace declared how impressed he was with Snipes simple yet effective solutions, both at home and at work. Snipe believed Ace was sincere in his praise, but believing he wasn’t as stupid as everyone else always said took time. It was really nice though, having a supportive boyfriend. That was also as adorable as he was vicious.
Ace hadn’t changed a bit when working, still a paranoid irritable control freak. Which was great because it was those traits that made the Talon army run so effectively. Snipe certainly hadn’t expected nor asked for any favouritism, in fact when Ace had warily ‘confronted’ him about it the brawler had thought a while then just requested Ace go over some stuff with him to see if he was doing it right, or could do it better. That was it, no cutting corners or dumping more work on someone else, just help to see where Snipe could improve. Naturally he’d been thrilled when Ace had found several ways of streamlining things or clarified stuff that made his work days less agonising, loving even more how much his boyfriend had blushed at the honest lavish praise of his cleverness.
At home (when Ace wasn’t on painkillers and face planting in frozen vegetables) his boyfriend was so adorably affectionate, constantly holding his hand, leaning against him, just always generally in his personal space. Snipe loved it. Admittedly Ace had practically moved in at this point, typically only staying at his own apartment whenever Snipe was deployed elsewhere. Having another guy sharing his space was easier than he’d thought, Ace was respectful of Snipes belongings, they always had a spare razor somewhere if the stubble got out of control. He’d soon noticed that Ace tended to hoard daily essentials, toothpaste, shampoo, soap, his concealer, notepads, pens. Snipe just got a bunch of storage boxes and let Ace go to town organising the apartment storage. Except for the kitchen. Kitchen was Snipes' domain. Ace had a little cupboard to keep his favourite treats and snacks in but otherwise put everything back exactly where he found it.
They hadn’t really progressed much further intimacy-wise beyond cuddling, Ace so shy when it came to kissing. Snipe isn’t worried, they’ll get there when they’re both ready. They both loved each other's company and that was what’s most important. Considering how fast paced life was in the Citadel, taking things slow was a welcome break from their hectic lives.
Ace sighed, rubbing his face before going back to glaring at the reports. Damned Storm Hawks. Fucking up a perfectly good invasion plan for no reason. He's in the middle of reassigning men to minimise the collateral damage to his schedule for advancing their borders when his alarm clock goes off. It was a relatively new addition to his desk, a gift from Snipe to make sure he didn’t keep falling asleep at his desk. Or missing lunch.
Opening his desk drawer he can’t hide his giddy smile as the lunchbox comes into view. Checking his office door, he opens up his lunchbox to see what Snipe had made him today. Sat on top of the tub of chicken salad with salsa was a sticky note featuring a little cartoon Snipe face next to a love heart. Ace has to duck behind his desk, just in case someone walked in and saw his sappy blushing grin. Hopefully Snipe will like his gift, tracking down the slow cooker his boyfriend had been raving about for months had been a nightmare. He’d had to go incognito to Atmosia to find one in stock. Between that and the weird little statue toys Snipe loved from the Wonders and Wastelands board game he thinks he’s getting the hang of this boyfriend thing. Then again Snipe loved anything Ace got him. His boyfriend was great like that. Even just showing up to social events at Snipes side made the brawler beam for days on end.
Carefully pulling the sticky note free, Ace opens another drawer on his desk, the lockable one he keeps his important belongings in, then adds it to the collection. Every time he looks in there and sees the growing pile of love notes Ace can feel his heart swell.
People found love in a lot of places, who would have ever thought he’d find love in a lunchbox?