KISS Imagines

Ace Frehley #8

"Y/N, Ace is really a mess. Can't you--" Paul's voice was cut off when you hung up.

It's been two weeks since your fight with Ace and since then the two of you haven't spoken to each other. You planned on keeping it that way. You didn't feel like talking to him again. Ever.

Mad and upset. That's how you felt. As for Ace, you didn't care how he felt, or at least that's what you told yourself. All three of his bandmates individually called and talked to you about his state but you never made the effort to go see him at the studio or his place. You didn't want to interact with him.

The fight left you both crying and yet you still walked away. Neither of you made the decision to try to talk to other over the past two weeks.

But now, as time ticked on, you realized you were starting to miss him. The last time you've felt like this was when he went on tour, only now he wasn't away. He was nearby.

Letting out a sigh, you returned to the catalog in your lap. You decided that your apartment needed a change and so you were looking at a furniture catalog. Fun.

Not really.

A few hours later the telephone rang but you ignored it, thinking that it was one of the band members calling you. Who's next? Gene? Peter? Or did Paul wanted to continue the interrupted conversation? You didn't want to find out.

However, you couldn't resist. So on the fourth ring, you picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N," the person said. It was your best friend. Not the band.

You chatted for awhile, though your mind had the habit of drifting off. Eventually you had to hang up due to not being able to focus. All you could think about was Ace and how he was when you left his place. He was crying by the time you decided to leave, begging you not to go, saying that you both can work things out.

Nonetheless you did.

And now, gathering the information the rest of the band gave you, you realized that Ace hasn't been doing very well since the day of the fight.

You ran a hand through your hair, then sighed.

It was time to go.

Your heart was aching for him. You longed for his presence, his happy mood, his touch, his sweet kisses. You wanted things back to the way they were, or at least somewhat. It didn't matter. You couldn't stay in this situation any longer.

So you got into your car and drove to the studio. The band was still there - Paul said they wouldn't be leaving until late at night. A lot of things had to be done.

After getting there, you parked your car and stepped out.

Here I go, you thought before making way toward the building. It didn't take very long to locate the boys but when you did, they were surprised to see you. Well actually three of them were. Ace was too busy tuning his guitar to notice.

You walked toward him slowly. "Ace?"

He halted, then turned to look at you. His eyes were slightly red, a result of crying earlier. His dark hair was messy. Despite all this this, a surprised expression appeared on his face. "Y/N."

"Can we talk?" you asked.

"What's there to talk about?" He returned to his guitar.

"You know what."

Ace didn't answer.

"Ace, please say something."

No words came from him. You scratched your head before looking at the others. "Can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Gene said. He left the room with Peter and Paul.

"Ace?" You touched his shoulder, making him flinch. You moved your hand away. "Ace, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said on that day."

"It sounded like you did," he murmured, plucking a string. "And I . . . I really thought you were going to leave me."

"Oh, Ace, I would never," you said. "I was so mad and upset that day. I wasn't thinking clearly. I just said what came to mind and . . . gosh, I'm so sorry."

He sniffled, setting his guitar down. "I'm sorry, too."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault," he corrected. "I started the fight. But I had no idea it was going to end like that. I didn't expect it to turn into a fight."

You sighed. "We both did something wrong, Ace."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so." He sniffled again.

You moved so that you were now in front of him. Ace looked up, and you cupped his face before lowering your mouth to his.

It was a soft, gentle kiss. Once it ended, you smiled at each other before kissing again.

Eventually Ace stood up. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his. For a few minutes your mouths barely parted except when you needed air.

"Please come back to me, baby," he whispered between kisses. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll come back," you told him. "I'll come back, Ace."

He smiled, his lips meeting yours again. But it was only a short kiss due to someone knocking on the door. The two of you immediately broke apart.

"Is everything all right in there?" Paul questioned.

"Yeah, everything is fine," you responded. "You can come in."

The boys walked in. Ace picked up his guitar, swinging his guitar strap over his shoulder with a smile. "Are we ready to play or no?"

His bandmates exchanged glances.

"Wow," Peter commented. "This is not the Ace we knew this morning."

"We're back together," you said before kissing Ace's cheek. "Now are you going to play or what? I want to hear you guys."

Ace looked at you, his smile widening. "You just wait until I play the guitar, Y/N."

You grinned. "I can't wait."