Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The fight ended in seconds.

The captain of the opposing pirate crew had been a pompous douchebag way over his head, whose bounty had apparently gone up a couple thousands of bellis due to some recent pillaging in the nearest island. They were known for attacking other pirates crews on sight, and it would seem that on their way to the next destination, they had come across Moby Dick, recognized the jolly rogers on the top of the crow’s nest, and decided to attack. Won’t be the first one stupid enough to do it. Ace himself could testify to that.

Right now, the captain was nothing more than a charred remain plastered near the ship’s half sunken helm. Most of the crew, who weren’t as foolish as their leader, had fled even before the captain had dealt his first attack, floating on top of the ruins of what used to be their ship. From on board of Striker, Ace watched them leave, his right arm still flaming from the remnants of Fire Fist.

The 18 years old puffed up his cheeks, contemplating whether he should go after them or not. It doesn’t seem like they’ll be coming back, so that’ll just be a waste of effort, but they did attacked Pops’ ship. Surely a thorough retaliation is necessary.

Before he could come up with a decision, a strong breeze hit him from the back and Striker suddenly swayed heavily to the side, nearly making him lose his balance. Ace shifted his gaze, finding the source of this disturbance easily enough.

On top of the mast attached to the back of his boat, a particularly large avian engulfed in blue flame perched itself, ringed tails cascading down and nearly reaching the surface of the water around them. Beady eyes stared intently at the now fleeing crew, some of them shouting in panic and screaming for others to quickly row their makeshift boat away, before turning its gaze to the burnt body on top of the now slowly sinking ship.

Ace tilted his hat to the side with one hand, placing one hand in the other and puffed up his chest in confidence, “I told you i could take care of it myself,”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, yoi,” by now, the bird has shifted his shape, his torso gaining the form of an adult man whose same bored eyes were still fixed on to the wreckage the younger had caused, “I just said don’t be reckless. Which you are,”

“No, i’m not,”

“Yes you are, yoi,” the man repeated with emphasis, “He got a hit in on you,”

Ace tilted his head to the side, trying to recollect anything from the - incredibly - short fight. His eyes lit up when he remembered the moment the older man was probably referring to, “Oh, that weird beam he sent out from his hand? Pfft, barely does anything,” The captain had been all bravado the moment Ace approached on board of Striker, ignoring his crew’s pleas to get out of the way and boasted something about a new power he had gained in the last island. He’d admit, it tingled, and Ace had been briefly worried there for a second, but it was literally seconds later that the captain received a face full of hot flame. As far as he’s concerned, it’s a job well done, “You worry too much, Marco,”

It’s been months since he joined the Whitebeard Pirates, after the numerous attempts he made to defeat the Yonko. Long gone were the days when he was the newbie, the little brat everyone picked on - though only in good nature - and the times where he still felt the need to prove himself in front of his new nakama. Nowadays, he’s Commander Ace from the second division, the youngest amongst all 16 others. He had the approval of the crew, as well as the world’s as one of Whitebeard’s finest.

But none of that ever seems to matter to Marco. 

Marco, with all of his scoldings and rebukes, a ‘be careful’ at every turn and a ‘watch yourself’ at every step, and if Ace is lucky, maybe with a ‘good job’ prefacing another ‘you’re not thinking’ and every variation in between. Thatch once joked that it comes with the territory of his zoan fruit, him being a mother hen. Everyone else had laughed along, and Ace would’ve joined in too if he hadn’t noticed that aside from him, no one else seems to have the same luck of having their own personal babysitter.

The exasperated look Marco sent him was all too familiar to Ace by now, “That’s a Devil Fruit power, Ace. It could be something dangerous,” then he turned once again to the wreckage - which, at this point had sunken down to the sea, captain’s corpse and all - sighing, “And now we had no way to know what it could be,”

“Well, i highly doubt it’s anything bad, i mean, i don’t feel anything,” he said, looking down to his half naked torso and back up. Marco gave him an unimpressed look, but once again, none of this was new. Sometimes, Ace couldn’t help but to wonder what the older’s deal was. He knows he’s fine, why can’t he just take his word for it? He expressed this displeasure by crossing his arms and stared defiantly at Marco.

In the end, the older relented, looking away to the group of run away pirates. By now, they’re nothing but a speck in the distance, “Just head back to Moby, yoi. Don’t even think about chasing after them,”

And then there’s that, the odd way that Marco can just tell what he was thinking. Ace pouted, trying to deny that that was exactly what he was planning, “But i was about to,”

Huh?

Ace stopped, frowning. What just happened? He swore he was trying to say something else just now. 

Still perched above Striker’s mast, the blonde commander sighed, “I know, yoi, that’s why i’m stopping you. The area they’re heading to is full of sea kings around this time of the year,” he flapped his wings, jolting the boat slightly as he gave himself a small boost to fly away. He hovered above Striker, torso once again transforming into the form of his Phoenix, “Go back to Moby, Ace, and talk to the nurses to get yourself checked out. Who knows what that Devil Fruit might’ve caused,”

Despite his confusion, Marco’s words still registered in his mind, “I don’t need a check up, i’m fine!”

“Ace, you got hit by a Devil Fruit power. Yes or no?”

It may be a little childish of him, but being babied like this is irritating. The younger crossed his arms petulantly, already catching another exasperated look forming in Marco’s face, No, he wanted to say, in a petulant streak he knew should be beneath him. 

But there was a brief tingle on his tongue, a fleeting sensation that he bore no mind to until he heard that what came out of his mouth was a, “Yes,”

The freckled youth widened his eyes.

Still hovering above of Striker, Marco quirked his brow, “Huh. Thought you were going to be difficult there for a second,”

He denied it again, “I was,”

By now, Ace knew something was wrong. He placed both hands over his mouth, letting his teeth bit into his tongue so hard it ached. What’s happening? He didn’t mean to say that, he hadn’t meant to say any of that.

The boat rocked again, a lot more gentle this time as a figure appeared before Ace’s eyes. Marco, now in full human form stood right on top of Striker’s little jutting deck, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Is something wrong, Ace?” he asked calmly, taking a careful step on the narrow path.

It was like his mouth moved on its own, because before Ace could even process what’s happening, his teeth stopping biting on to his tongue and he spoke behind his palm, voice muffled.

“What was that, yoi?”

Ace squeezed his eyes as he spoke again, mouth still covered behind his hands. He’s not doing this on his own volition. His mouth moved on its own, forming words that were not even his. In front of him, he could feel rather than see Marco moving in even closer, and instinctively took a step back. He tripped on the back of Striker’s engine after one more step, sending him tumbling down and nearly falling on his ass if it wasn’t for the hand grabbing his wrist to keep him steady.

“Ace!” Marco called again, face much closer than before and brows furrowed in both concern and that familiar worried lines. Ace’s breath briefly caught on his throat, when the older spoke again, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t lie,”

The hand on his wrist was steady, though he could see Marco’s expression faltering slightly in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

Ace spoke again, the tingling sensation back in his tongue as his mouth moved before he could even register them doing so. It was odd to think that the truth dawned on him only as he heard his own voice, but it was like he was compelled to say these words, even though he himself didn’t know the full extent of his condition, “I can’t lie,” he said— no, his mouth said for him, without even him meaning to say it. Ace bit his lower lips, raising his other hand to cover his mouth once again, but this time loose enough to make his next words coherent, “It’s that Devil Fruit’s doing,”

Somewhere in the distance, there’s a collective piercing shriek, followed by the rumbling of a hungry sea king finding its prey. 

“Truth-Truth Fruit,” the freckled youth repeated once again, peeking at the cover of the book in Marco’s hand from behind his bangs. It depicted illustrations of various Devil Fruits, along with an elegantly scripted title that ended on the dog ear on the corner, a mark of a well read book. Just like every other book in Marco’s quarter, he noted, glancing to the bookcase on the side of the older man’s work desk.

From his desk, Marco hummed, turning another page, “The description of the attack and methods seems to fit with what happened earlier with that pirate captain, so i guess it’s save to assume that yes, this is what you’ve been hit with,” the blonde frowned, his expression turning grave, “A paramecia type that allows you to make your target do nothing but tell the truth. That’s a terrifying thought, yoi,”

Ace paused his casual browsing of Marco’s book collection, scoffing, “What’s so terrifying about it? It’s just going to make you be honest or something, right?”

Marco gave him a baleful look over the book, his eyes half hidden behind the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Thatch and Haruta sometimes made fun of him whenever the blonde made a mistake in appearing before the crowd in Moby Dick with them on, telling him how it made him look older and how much it showed his age. Ace always thought he looked particularly dashing and refined in them. 

Now where did that thought came from?

“You were lucky that the guy earlier doesn’t seem to be aware of the kind of power he was holding. The fact that it could stop you from lying is already a daunting thought. Imagine if an enemy captured you and wished to find information about your crew or captain, you won’t be able to do anything to stop them from finding out,” With a thud, the book was closed and deposited to the top of the desk, next to the pile of - what Ace was sure would be - sorted documents and paperworks. 

Marco took off his glasses, placing them back into a wooden safe box. Ace stifled his disappointment, easily achieved as he continued, “It can even be used as a way of extortion, having you reveal a deep secret that can be used as a leverage. Even in battle, it could have some useful advantages. You could have your enemy telling you their every plan and steps, since they won’t be able to lie to you,”

“Okay, geez, it’s dangerous, whatever,” The dark haired youth rolled his eyes, leaning back against the headboard of Marco’s bed, “But he never managed to do any of that, i took care of him before he could,”

“He still got you in the end, that’s the point, Ace,” the blonde told him sternly, arms crossed, “Experienced users has been reported to be able to force their target spill their every thoughts, even the ones they themselves weren’t privy to. Right now, you’re affected by this fruit’s effect, and there’s no telling when it will wear out,” 

On the bed, Ace jutted his lower lips in displeasure, “I still think it’s not a big deal,” he groused, swinging his legs over the bed to stand up, “I mean, basically i’ll just be forced to say the truth every time, right? Well, it’s not like i lie on a daily basis,”

After a few moment, there’s a sigh from the other end of the room. Marco was pinching on the bridge of his nose, the look of pure exasperation on his face. Ace took mild offense to that. He’d seen that expression countless time before on Gramps, whenever he, Luffy and Sabo would proclaim that they wanted to be pirates. He’d seen it in Dadan and Makino’s face whenever they got into trouble. It’s the face an adult would give to a child who didn’t know any better, and the implication of Marco giving him that look every single time was upsetting.

He’s an adult who knows what he’s doing. He’s one of Whitebeard’s top men for fuck’s sake, he knows what he’s doing and he didn’t need to be coddled like this. That Marco kept on doing this was actually pretty insulting.

Suddenly, Marco lifted his head, his hooded eyes opening larger as he blinked owlishly. Then he sighed again, “I’m not trying to coddle you, yoi. I know you’re an adult, Ace, I’m just,” he paused, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose once again. His lips were pursed thinly, opening slightly as if he was struggling to find the correct word.

But Ace didn’t pay any attention to that, instead, he frowned. Had he said that out loud? 

“Kind of,”

Oh, and again.

Ace raised one hand up cover his mouth, a sudden unease creeping in his spine. He thought that as long as he didn’t have to answer to something or speak, it wouldn’t happen. Evidently, sometimes his honest thoughts can voice itself out as well unconsciously. 

Okay, maybe this is a little bit creepy.

He didn’t know whether he said that out loud again or not, but from his desk, Marco sighed, this time a lot heavier and weary, “It shouldn’t stick around for long, especially since the user is gone now. Some effects disappeared immediately, but i’ve seen some that could linger, though no longer than one or two days,”

Ace nodded, dropping his hand, “Good,” he murmured, “Whatever. I’m just gonna go. I was in the middle of sorting out schedule with my division when that asswipe attacked us,” which wasn’t technically a lie, but he was also rather uncomfortable with the tension that seems to built up for the last couple of second. And he didn’t want to stick around in case he accidentally said something he didn’t meant to say out loud to Marco again.

During that last train of thought, the raven haired male placed a finger in front of his lips. They didn’t move on their own, which means that last thought was safe with him. Good, maybe he can control this after all.

“Right,” Marco muttered after a long bout of silence, nodding dejectedly. He looked a little hurt, for some reason, not that Ace knew why. If anyone should be hurt, its him.

Again, he didn’t voice it out, but at this point, Ace was wary. He didn’t like being overtly careful like this, especially not around his own nakama, “Yeah. I’m just gonna go now,” he said as he made his way to the door.

He was stopped by Marco’s voice calling out his name, “Yeah?”

When he turned back, there’s hesitation in Marco’s eyes, a level of unsureness he’d never would’ve associate with the usually calm and collected man. His voice even reflected that, stammering in the beginning of his words, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like i’m… insulting you. I know i’m a little overbearing, but it’s,” he bit his lower lips, “I… to tell you the truth, i—” he stopped again, shaking his head. Whatever he was about to say seems to cause him some level of pain of sorts, and as someone who will be blurting out every first thought he had for some indefinite time, Ace rather envy him.

In the end, when the older simply sighed and sat back down, “It doesn’t matter, yoi,” he said dejectedly, showing that despite his words it indeed mattered, “I’ll see you soon, Ace,”

“Okay,” Curious as he was with what Marco had to say, it seems like the man didn’t want to talk anymore, and Ace really wanted to leave before he could say anything else he didn’t mean to say, at least, not out loud. He opened the door, gave the room one last glance before leaving.

As he closed the door, Ace could hear a brief thud of something hard hitting wood - like a head thumping down on a desk - and a quiet murmur of, “Maybe i should’ve been the one hit with that fruit,”

Chapter Text

Rearranging schedule with his division turned into other sort of responsibilities that he needed to take care of, and the thought of the fruit and its influence was soon pushed to the back of his mind. Ace was cautious at first, repeatedly placing a finger in front of his lips to make sure he didn’t say anything unintended, but as he quickly realized, he didn’t need to. Commander or not, he often said what he was thinking; if he thought someone was doing a good job, he’d tell them, and if someone didn’t meet his standard, he’d also tell them. Marco once told him - scolded him - to be a bit more diplomatic, but Ace disagreed. Wouldn’t it be better to say exactly what you meant?

Come to think of it, maybe waiting it out for this truth-telling effect to end will be easier than he thought. 

His entire day was filled with people looking for him to report for duties, and waiting to be distributed new ones and such. Ace could never get used to this side of the life as one of Whitebeard Pirates. So much delegation, paperworks and bureaucracy, which he always thought was bullshit considering they’re supposed to be free pirates.

His tongue tingled the moment he thought of that, and Ace knew he had accidentally said that out loud in the middle of being distracted by a mix up of duty between his and Blenheim’s division, to which his fellow commander and some of the gathered crew member had laughed, “Trust me, everyone at some point thinks the same, even Pops, we just don’t voice it out loud. Marco’s the one who insisted in all of this, so if you have any complaints, bring it to him,” the man told him, grinning, “Pretty sure that if it’s you, he’d actually listen,”

Ace was honestly confused by this statement that when he asked, “What are you talking about?” he realized that the fruit had only beaten his own mind to the punch by seconds.

Blenheim had laughed again, this time coupled by some of the men around them. Their laughter was part amused and part condescending, to which Ace glared at them. 

In the end, nobody answered him. Ace was beginning to think how unfair it is that him, the one who rarely, if ever have any reason to lie or purposefully confuse his crewmember was the one who got into this predicament.

As night falls, that statement gained even more justification. 

The beginning of every month was reserved for a celebration for birthdays and important dates that happened the previous month, an efficient way to celebrate with over 1500 people on deck and to give the kitchen enough time to prepare accordingly. For this reason, dinner will happen even later than usual, which Ace’s stomach could not accept. He needs to have his pre-pre-dinner now.

The moment he walked in, an arm was slung around his shoulder as another pair held onto his arm on the other side, the sweet smell of Wano’s perfume and the sight of a bobbing pompadour entering his sight and senses not long after. “We saaaw youuu,” was Thatch and Izou’s first greeting - because it could only be them - said nearly simultaneously with the same mischievous tone.

“Saw what?”

“Oh, a lot of things,” Thatch told him with a wide smirk, nudging his side with his hips, “Like the fact that you and Marco went off somewhere in such a hurry earlier,”

“And that you’ve been touching your lips the entire day, you sweet innocent little gumdrop,” Izou continued, ruffling his hair and running his manicured nails along Ace’s dark locks, “So, where did you two went off to?’

Ace’s tongue tingled again, and after a couple of times, he figured he’s starting to get used to the sensation. He’s not sure if this is a good thing or not, “He brought me to his quarters,” Marco had rushed him over back to Moby after that fight, scourging through his collections of books to find that one rare dictionary of Devils Fruits once he made sure nothing else happened. He hadn’t seen the older lost his composure quite like that, even if he did regain it back quickly.

In fact, he had flew him off to Moby instead of waiting for Ace to come over with Striker. He should probably ask Namul later if someone managed to bring his boat back.

Both Thatch and Izou gasped, mouths forming a happy ‘o’ behind their hand and kimono sleeve respectively. Thatch then fist bumps the thin air, yelling something about, “Atmos and Jozu owes me a shitload of money!” as Izou pulled him in for a hug, smothering Ace with the sweet scent of flowery perfume and the faint smell of gunpowder, “Oh, you’ve grown so big right before our very eyes! I felt like it was just yesterday that you were just a baby!”

“You never met me as a baby,” which came out supported by the fruit’s effect yet again, but Ace meant it all the same.

“What’s going on here, yoi?”

In the ruckus the two commander had caused, the had missed the dining area’s door opening, where Marco now stood. He had his gaze sharply trained on both Izou and Thatch, but Ace didn’t miss the subtle glances he gave him. As he crossed his arms, Ace caught sight of the Devil Fruit’s book in his hand, one finger jammed in between the pages, presumably to mark where he had been reading, “Thatch, you’re supposed to be preparing for tonight’s celebration. Izou, how’s the alcohol stock for Pops? Don’t give him way too much like last month again, i don’t care what he said, he’s not supposed to have that much,” he told them sternly, “Stop goofing off when you still has jobs to do, yoi,”

Izou loosened his hold on him, pushing him slightly to let him fall backward against Thatch’s hold. Marco’s frowned at the action, as Izou crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side, a smug smile on his face, “Oh? And nothing for Ace?” he hummed, a teasing lilt on his voice that seems to indicate something else, because Marco’s frown deepened, not that it seems to perturb the pink-clad man, “I see, i see how it is,”

“Ace is done with his duties, unlike the two of you,” Which is true, but he hadn’t expected that. Usually Marco will come up with one thing or another to scold him with.

Both men’s eyes were suddenly upon him, even Thatch leaned forward against his back, the tip of his pomp peeking out from Ace’s periphery. Ace bit his tongue, chasing out the leftover tickling sensation he had only belatedly realized. 

“Oh yeah, scold you, that’s what the kids are calling it these days,” Thatch voiced from behind him, snickering, “You hear that, Marco? He wanted to be scolded by you,”

Ace jabbed his side with his elbow, muttering that that’s not what he meant - why would he wanted that? - though it did nothing to stifle the older’s increasingly loud laughter. Izou did the same behind his kimono sleeve, though he started to falter slightly and edged away towards the door when Marco’s arms began to emit blue-ish flame. Even Ace caught it nearly too late, only catching the slowly raised leg-turned-claws.

It was only quick reflex that made him able to avoid the sudden yellow and blue blur, and the pained yelped from the back told him that Thatch wasn’t quite as lucky. 

“How are you holding up?”

The kitchen hands, busy as they were, actually remembered about Ace’s incredible appetite and eating schedule that they managed to scourge up something for him. It wasn’t as big of meal as his usual helping, only around 10 pieces of chicken legs, 2 soup bowls, a mixture of Alabastan Curry and a roast from North Blue, and a whole basketful of fruit. It wasn’t much, but considering the upcoming party, he understand.

Ace looked away from the kitchen adjoined to the dining area, where he could see Thatch still warily glancing their way - well, more towards Marco - while fixing his ruined hair and supervising the kitchen, and to Marco across the table. Besides the two of them, there’s barely anyone at all in the entire dining area, most too busy to prepare for the party. The only other occupied table aside from their was one with a couple of nurses taking their break. 

The dark haired youth swallowed quickly as soon as his tongue tingled with Marco’s question, “I’m fine,” he pulled aside one of the chicken legs and took a large bit out of it, nearly pulling all of the meat from the bone in that single chomp and making his cheeks puffing out, “Like i told you i will be,“

“Swallow before talking, yoi,”

Ace groaned but ended up doing as he was told. Marco wasn’t even looking as he spoke, eyes still trained to the book like he had been since he decided to sit down while Ace ate. It seems odd that he still has time to do that when he’s usually up in arms with supervising everyone else, but Ace wasn’t about to call him out on it. At least, normally he wouldn’t. This time, he’s under the influence of a truth-telling fruit that made him loose control of what he says and he knew that the tickle on his tongue has nothing to do with the chicken leg’s crunchy skin.

This time, Marco glanced up to him, “I figured i can trust things to work smoothly without me once in a while. In fact, i think party planning usually goes smoother if i’m not around,” he said, turning the page, “Besides, i have something else to do,”

“Like reading up on the fruit again?”

Marco didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Ace saw the header of the book from where he sat, showing that it was indeed a section about the Truth-Truth Fruit, “You know you worry too much, right? I told you, nothing happened,”

“So you’re saying you can control your words again it after you left my room?”

Above a spoonful of curry, Ace rolled his eyes when his tongue tingled on cue, “No, but it didn’t matter,” he shove the spoon into his mouth, still talking while chewing, “Sure, it sucked not having—“

“Ace, swallow,”

“—not having full control of what comes out of your mouth, but again, not a big deal,” Marco glowered at him, presumably for talking. Ace rolled his eyes and waited until his mouth was relatively empty before adding, “Look, the fruit doesn’t care if i have a mouthful or not, okay?”

He blacked out for a moment, narcolepsy setting in as usual whenever he was in the middle of his meal. The next time he woke up, the plate was gone, as well as other assortment of food that was around him earlier. That wasn’t the only thing gone, he noticed, as his surrounding has become darker than before, only lit up by the scarce candles that lit up each corners of the dining area.

Well, that, and the blue glow in front of him. Ace lifted his head to find a Phoenix-shaped Marco sitting on the table, still reading the dictionary he had brought with him. Ace was sure he had moved on to some other page. The page before didn’t have those sketches on them.

In the distant, Ace could hear the sound of cheering and laughter mingling together, accompanied by an even more muffled sound of music. The party has started, probably for a while now, judging from how drunk those laughter sounded, “Aren’t you joining them?” he asked with a yawn, placing a hand on his cheek to wipe off any excess food stains and grease. He was surprised to feel nothing, only slight dampness which means someone must’ve cleaned him up.

“Was waiting for you to wake up, yoi,” The bird answered, turning the page delicately with his beak, a rather surreal display even if the dark haired male knew that it was done by a zoan user, not an actual animal. Ace watched as he read every line intently, long neck slowly moving from top to bottom of the page, blue flame glowing and lighting up the dark and giving him enough illumination while he reads on.

Whenever he imagined Marco doing mundane daily activity in his phoenix form, the visuals Ace always came up with was something ridiculous and silly. This is far from being ridiculous and silly. It was oddly natural, almost elegant, even.

“Thank you. I’ve had nearly my entire life to get used to this, that’s probably why,” Marco said almost out of nowhere, craning his neck to the side where Ace was seated, “I’m presuming you don’t mean to say that out loud, yoi?”

“No,” Ace told him, feeling his cheeks heating up, as if he had lit them on fire, “I’ll be honest - no pun intended - i don’t even know where that thought came from,” The tingling sensation wasn’t there as he added that last part, but the fruit didn’t stop him. He was telling the truth after all, he himself was rather surprised by that train of thought.

Marco was still regarding him critically, and the next time Ace blinked, the bird was gone, replaced by a flare of blue and yellow that dissipate to reveal a human Marco back to his seat across from him, “Not a big deal, huh?”

The freckled youth pouted a little, crossing his arms. He formed his mouth to say a no, because it is not a big deal, and yet what came out of his mouth gained a significant change, “It’s not if you’re not around,”

Ace frowned at his own words, but admitted that in a way, that was the truth, after all. He didn’t have any problem the entire day, even if his true thoughts sometimes slipped away, because those thoughts rarely stray away from what he wanted to say. Someone commented in whisper that he seems a little more chatty and blunt today, but that’s all there is. 

And yet whenever Marco’s around, he started having these out of place thoughts, these observations that seems to come out of nowhere from the back of his mind, and before he himself could process it, would be out in the open. Like his irritation over the older’s constant concern and attention to every little thing he does, or this sudden admiration over the sight of him reading as a Phoenix.

He raised a hand to his mouth, glad to see that he hadn’t said anything else. Could this also be the fruit’s doing?

Across from the table, Marco was staring at him, the look on his face unfamiliar and strange. It reminded Ace of earlier today, during his first accidental slip up, with a hint of guilt and hurt flashing behind those blue orbs. His eyes dropped down to the book, though Ace could see that he’s not necessarily reading it anymore, “Is… that so?” he murmured lowly, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright, but if it bothers you that i’m constantly around, i could—“

He never get to finish his sentence when the door was suddenly slammed open, and the sudden raise in volume of the merry making outside caught them both off guard. Jiru stood there, one hand still on the knob and the other around a bottle, held as tight as if he was holding his spear with Kingdew right behind him, laughing loudly and obviously drunk, “Oho! What’re you two doing in the dark like this?” the muscled blonde commander asked with wagging brow before laughing again and turning back, “Hey boys! I found them! All by themselves in the dark!”

There’s loud cheering and wolf-whistles from the outside, presumably from whoever Kingdew was addressing to. Someone, who sounded suspiciously like a drunk Thatch, even screamed out, “Go get it, Marco!”

“Sorry to break up your moment there,” Jiru piped up in the middle of the rowdiness - and above Marco’s groan - motioning to the deck area, “but we’re gonna play a game and we need all of the commanders!”

Ace looked at them and back to Marco, who shook his head in exasperation as he closed the Devil’s Fruit dictionary, “We can talk about this later, yoi,” he said in a low voice, low enough that Ace was the only one who can hear him. He then walked out without even waiting for Ace, ignoring Jiru and Kingdew’s confused callings for his name. The two then looked at Ace, before glancing towards each other. Amidst the turmoil in his mind, he could still hear Kingdew asking, “Trouble in paradise?” in what he must’ve thought to be a whisper, and Jiru’s subsequent shrug.

Everything suddenly felt dark around in the dining area, which was odd, because Marco has changed back into his human form for a while now.

As it turns out, the game ‘all commander must play’ is a truth or dare game, because no other game is more appropriate for a ship full of feared pirates playing games Ace had only seen village kids back in Foosha played. 

Still, with alcohol involved and with thousands of men watching, this game was not nearly as innocent and juvenile as those games in Foosha. By the 5th round, Curiel has already stripped down to his naked glory, flaunting himself proudly even though the dare was that he only strip to his boxers, Haruta was doing handstand and would remain to do so until 2 more rounds, and even Pops was involved in this, being stripped away from his trusty drinking mug for the rest of the game.

That last one had been a dare from Marco, and since then, their captain and father hasn’t stop grumbling or shooting looks at his ‘eldest’ son.

Due to how big the amount of player was, Ace hadn’t been caught once, though he had been the one who gave out the dare to Haruta. Right now it was Blamenco’s turn, the 6th division commander for the 6th turn, and the spun bottle landed on Jozu, so close to Ace. The dark haired teen let out a huge sigh and laughed along with the others, though his quickly died down when he saw that Marco was not sharing their joy.

In fact, throughout the game, he sat there straight-faced, eyes seemingly far away. The bottle he was given early to the game was still full, only occasionally sipped when appropriate.

As Jozu finally choose ‘dare’ and Blamenco finally decided on one for him, Ace sidled closer to the elder, “What i said earlier,” he spoke in a low volume, nudging Marco’s knee with his own to gain the man’s attention, “Doesn’t mean that i want you to stay away or anything. You don’t bother me, and you know i’m saying the truth right now,” he said with a little reassuring smile, hoping that that’ll be enough.

A long bout of silence between them ensues - only between them, because Jozu is now belting out a rendition of a popular children song with his low voice amidst of people’s cheering - and for a moment, Ace thought that Marco did not hear him or did not want to talk. He certainly hadn’t looked away from the spot he had been staring at for a while now. The younger sighed, and was about to move away when he caught the older spoke, “I don’t want to, in your own words, coddle you. But i can’t help it for being worried, yoi,”

Jozu was done with his song, grumbling and swearing revenge on Blamenco and Rakuyo - who had suggested that dare to Blamenco - as the game kept moving. By now, Ace was no longer paying any attention, fully turning to the man next to him, “Are you still on about that? I told you, i didn’t mean to say it,”

“But you do mean it, the fruit made sure it is,” was Marco’s reply, finally looking away and facing Ace fully.

“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean that i’m pissed off at you or want you to stay away,” In fact, he kind of liked being around Marco. Ace bit his lips quick enough before his thoughts can come tumbling out, hiding it by raising his knees to his chest and dropping his jaw right behind his knees. True as it is, it felt so… embarrassing to admit that out loud. 

The kept their silence as they game went on, crew members around them cheering and chanting as Namul tried to climb into Pops’ abandoned tankard and jumped inside, as per the dare instructed. He emerged out fully soaked in beer, hiccuping and swaying in the midst of cheers. Everyone’s just cheering at everything at this point, Ace noticed, too far gone to even notice what’s going on.

When the bottle was once again spun, Ace caught Marco sighing warily, “I really don’t know what to do with you sometimes,”

Ace was about to ask what he meant with that, when he heard his name called out loudly, not only by one person but an entire chorus of them. He turned back to the little circle and the crowd, to see people grinning and pointing at him and to the bottle. True enough, the bottle’s nozzle was pointing directly at him, and out of everyone in the crowd, Izou had the largest grin of them all.

The Second Division Commander grimaced.

‘Ho, ho, ho, i’m going to enjoy this!” Izou declared, laughing haughtily despite being unable to even stand up properly and long since losing his usual prim and proper look, “Ace, truth or dare!”

“Just do the dare, yoi,” Marco told him immediately, lowering his voice so that Ace was the only person who can hear him, “You don’t want to know what he might ask you if you choose truth, and you won’t be able to get out of answering it honestly to boot,”

Which is a good idea, because the smile on Izou’s face was not a good sign for him. In fact, everyone’s faces could’ve told him that it was a bad idea, due to how eager they are at waiting for his answer. He might’ve skipped watching the game after a while, but he was sure everyone else didn’t have this same level of scrutiny.

But a sudden idea appear in the back of his mind as he glanced once again at Marco, and declared, loudly and confidently, “Truth!”

The cheering around him was deafening, but even they weren’t able to fully drown out Marco’s bewildered, “Ace! What the hell are you doing?!“

“Look, i’ll show you so you’ll stop worrying about this thing,” he told Marco placing a hand at the older’s knee to calm him down, grinning at his own genius idea, “This truth-power thing? It’s nothing, okay? I spoke my mind most of the time anyway, it doesn’t bother me and i’m learning to have a good control over my thoughts. Whatever he throws at me won’t be that bad, and then you’ll see that you have nothing to worry about. Besides, you heard the other truth questions from before. Sex questions, embarrassing moments questions, i have no problem answering any of that, like i had no problem saying what’s on my mind,”

“This is exactly the kind of stupidity that makes me worried about you, Ace. You don’t know what—“

“Hey! Hey! Lovebirds!” Izou hollered from his side of the circle, now fully standing though not fully straight up, “Don’t worry, Marco, i’ll go easy on our baby brother,” he cackled, aiming the same smug look to the blonde, “Or not, we’ll see,”

“Come on, Izou i got so much money riding on this!” Thatch yelled out from the side, slapping Vista’s back while grinning and wagging his brows at Jozu, who grumbled, “That one question! That one question!”

Izou waved him off, “No, i’m not going to make it that easy,”

“I don’t care, bring it,” Ace told him with a grin, sitting back cross legged while squeezing his hand that was on top of Marco’s knee. He caught the older’s eyes, still furrowed, and shook his head over the frustration. Really, Marco shouldn’t worry too much—

“Answer me this truthfully, Ace,” it’s not like he had any other option, not that Izou or anyone else knew, “Tell us something you’ve been hiding from everyone else in the crew!”

Immediately the confident smile on the dark haired male’s lips dropped away, his eyes widened in terror. Oh no, fuck no.

The first flash of memory that crossed his mind was that faded wanted poster from years ago in Garp’s hand, showing the smiling face of a dead man he never knew and yet was so connected to, the man who made his entire life hell, the one who set his destiny on course even before he was born. He remembered the jeering and the anger that rose with every insult, unknowingly said in his presence. He remembered Sabo’s careful approach, of Luffy’s clueless abandon in mentioning his heritage.

He remembered his anger towards this crew, to the man sitting on the head of the deck, to the little fear and anxiety he forcefully pushed to the back of his mind because of his promise to a long gone brother that one day, that would not matter anymore.

And yet it still does.

Ace bit his tongue and lower lip so hard he could nearly taste blood, the first of the sentence already threatening out of his mouth. The tingle, previously only an annoyance grew to become a dreaded presence and he whimpered in pain, as the first roll of blood emerged from under his incisors.

But still, the fruit’s power proved to be stronger, because his mouth moved on its own, letting his aching tongue go and he was near tears as words began to escape him, “M-my fath-fa-father—“

All of the sudden he was yanked to the side, and the pressure on his mouth was different. His nose ached at the sudden force knocked on to it, never mind his bruised and bloodied lips, pressed against something equally soft and hard at the same time. A hand held the side of his face, trapping him in place and the mouth against his muffling the words that was forced out of him, making them beyond intelligible. 

Everything felt wet and hurts, though the pain alleviate a little when a slithering wetness - tongue, oh my god, that’s Marco’s tongue - entered his cavern, licking it tentatively. He’s sure that Marco could taste coppery blood as well, slowly disappearing as their saliva mingled and his mouth finally stopped moving on its own. 

The fruit’s power ended. He had replied truthfully to the question, one way or another.

When Marco released him, it was like all air was sucked out of him. Ace panted loudly and often, not even fighting it when he was pulled down against the older’s chest, his wet cheek against Whitebeard’s tattoo. His head was still light and his eyes were unfocused, and he felt faint, so very, very faint.

He didn’t notice the silence around him where there was revelry before, only the faint coppery taste that began to seep into his mouth yet again, and the hammering on his chest. A single tear dropped out of his eyes, the shock and fear mingling to one as his mind slowly registered the events that just happened. 

He almost…

He was so close to saying…

Ace whimpered, burying his face against panting chest.

Above him, Marco’s voice, not as calm as usual and yet still carrying the commanding air to them spoke clearly, “There, that’s what he’s been hiding,” he announced, “And i would appreciate it if no one bother us anymore about this. Go on with your bets and gossiping, i don’t care what you do with your own money and time, but at least respect our privacy, yoi,”

The silence persist. 

Marco moved to stand up, bringing him along. Ace didn’t fight it, clinging to the older, legs shaking slightly. The hand on his back felt like a heavy anchor, weighing him down from floating too far with his muddled thoughts, and he merely followed as Marco slowly guide him away from the crowd.

“Continue on with your party. Ace and i are going to turn in early,”

Chapter Text

It was immediately after the door closes and they were alone in Marco’s bedroom that the reality finally crashed to him like a raging torrent.

The forefront of Ace’s skull pounded incessantly as his eyes felt heavy with pressure that stings, his breathing had gone increasingly ragged and there’s a chill running down his spine that made him shiver. None of this registered to him, mind too diluted by replaying the previous event over and over, of how close he had been to say that, along with memories long since repressed.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back, and immediately, Ace slapped it away as if it burns, “Don’t touch me!” he managed to rasped out, walking backwards until his back hits the hard wooden walls. His legs are slowly giving out beneath him, and he didn’t fight it as he slid down to the ground. One shaky hand raised up to cover his mouth, his lips quivering as his mind ran wild.

He nearly said it. In front of his crew, new and old, in front of his fellow commanders and friends. Of whose blood runs through his vein.

In front of him, the shadow shifted. It’s Marco, he reminded himself, just in time not to flinch as the older stepped closer, falling into Ace’s line of sight. 

“Ace—“

“I take it back!” He cried out, nearly shrieking, releasing his tight grip on his own jaw to pull on his hair, “I take it back, this fucking thing is the worst! I hate this fruit! I hate that fucking pirate! I hate this!” 

“Ace, calm down—“

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! I almost— I was about to say that— In front of everyone! I—“ Ace whimpered, remembering every scowl and mocking laughter on every pirates he ever came across before after mentioning Gol D. Roger’s name, remembering their disgust at the mention of the Pirate King’s possible offspring. Hearing what they would do to the ‘devil’s child’, every horrific details spouted off their drunken mouth and wondered if everyone on this ship will say the same.

There’s a reason why he never mentioned the man in front of his old crew in the Spade Pirates, the people he wanted to trust and wished to find companionship in, never put them into the same test he did to every other pirates. He never wanted to know their opinion on this one matter, a problem that no matter how hard he tried, he could never escape from. The same principle goes for the Whitebeard Pirates.

It’ll make him feel better to not know, like he could disassociate himself from away from that reality, even if it means constantly fooling himself.

But now, it felt like that illusion has fallen apart. Because he could see it before his eyes, the image of tonight’s celebration and friendly faces turning into something malicious, of shock and anger. He remembered his conversation with Whitebeard, of his easy smile and reassurance that none of it matter, but instead of it calming him down, there was the old worry of him changing his mind, that in the light of his reveal, he’d change his mind. 

In the back of his mind, Ace knew he should put more trust in the man he proudly called father, who didn’t turn him away when he learned of his father. Yet the constant anxiety and doubt that Whitebeard will have a second thought was always there in his mind, a speck that seems to be mightily amplified tonight.

A tentative nudge on his foot gained his attention. Ace looked up to see that Marco had knelt down to his level, his knee touching the tip of his left boot. “Ace,” he called, voice gentle and calming in the midst of the endless storm that is Ace’s mind, “Deep breaths. You’re hyperventilating,”

It wasn’t until he said that when he felt the hammering on his chest and it registered to him how suffocated he was, “I… I don’t—“

“Deep breaths, yoi,” the blonde repeated in a firmer tone, placing a hand lightly on his ankle. He felt rather than see said hand slowly moving up his calf, halfway to his knee, and back down to his ankle, “Don’t think, don’t say anything. Just breathe,”

So he did, lips parted just enough pull in air, breathing in albeit with little hiccups.

It took a while, maybe even longer than just a while, but time is a concept that currently escaped Ace. All he could register was the air that fills and escaped his lungs, slowly finding its rhythm, and the surprisingly soothing motion on his leg, unconsciously guiding every intake of air.

Slowly, everything else seems to register, like the pounding headache and the wetness on his cheek. The party came back to him in a little more clarity, the brief remembrance of shocked face that does not bore a single thread of anger and instead nothing but genuine surprise, and a smiling face here and there. A far cry from the image his own mind has conjured.

But the same way that gave him a sense of relief, other things also returned, like the terror of knowing what his mouth would say without his volition, and the now dull aching on his lips and his tongue. It also reminded him of this little tantrum, of everything that crosses his mind, and slowly, warily, he looked up.

Marco was silent, eyes trained on him intently. The dim light of his bedroom and the shadow casted by their proximity made it hard to see anything beyond the older’s outline, let alone his expression, but Ace could still feel his hand on his ankle, touching only a small part to the side as if he was cautious that any more would result in Ace pushing him away again.

It was with full trepidation that he asked, “Did i say everything out loud just now?”

The hand loosely touching his ankle faltered. That was confirmation enough for him.

Ace bit his lower lips, right above the aching spot. There’s barely even despair left in him, only wary resignation, “I hate this,” he whispered, “I hate it so much,” 

Marco didn’t say anything, but the hand on his ankle moved to his knee, staying there like a warm anchor.

Outside of the bedroom, on the deck, the party seems to slowly pick up again, with the sound of muffled music and celebration filling their long drawn silence. It sounded even rowdier than before, with over the top shouting and cheering that pierced through the night and doesn’t show any sign of soon stopping. It was a white noise in the lull, until Ace spoke again after quite a while, voice barely above a whisper, “Does it disgust you?” he asked, despite the sinking feeling in his chest that he might not want to know the answer, “Now that you know who i am?”

“No,” the answer came as soon as the question ended, succinct and full of conviction. Marco’s eyes on him didn’t waver in the slightest, and there’s a pool of warmth in the middle of Ace’s stomach as he stared on to those blue orbs, “And it never will,”

The hand on his knee clenched tighter. Ace watched as a small smile grew on Marco’s face, chasing away the shadow that he hadn’t realize was there before. He looked less burdened and tense now, almost amused, “If there’s anything that remotely disgust me, it’s how little trust you put in him. He called you his son, you’re a fool if you think that he’d ever change his mind and turn his back to you,” the smiled turned wry, though in good humour, “As for you doubting me, well, i have to say, i’m a little hurt,”

The freckled youth let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding back, “Most people—“

“Pops is not most people,” the man cuts him sternly, “And neither am i, yoi,”

Silence descended once again between them. Ace shifted his gaze away, unable to handle the honesty dripping from Marco’s words. His heart began to hammer on his chest again, loud enough he feared that even Marco will be able to hear it. Underneath all of that, cool relief washes through him, and he felt his lips turning upwards to form the first smile since he entered this room, “Thank you,”

A hand reached over, appearing briefly in his periphery until he felt a thumb brushing over his bruised lips. He winced slightly at the pain.

“Sorry,” the blonde in front of him muttered, “It was bleeding rather badly earlier. I can ask the nurse for an ointment or a salve to put on it,”

Ace shook his head, mindful of the hand, “They’re probably still at the party, i don’t want to bother them,” he said, revelling in the warmth of the older man’s touch. His cheeks turned heated as yet another detail in the party popped into his mind. Compared to everything else, it had been such an insignificant detail, but now that his mind had calmed down and with Marco’s finger on his lips, Ace’s cheeks flushed hotly in remembrance.

It seems that Marco also realized the same thing, because the finger faltered - which caused Ace to feel oddly disappointed - and was retracted after a moment of hesitation, “I, uh, I’m sorry. About earlier,” a hint of blush appeared on Marco’s cheeks, “It was— You looked so distressed and— Well, it was the only thing i can—“ he quickly fell silent, placing one hand on his nape with his head hung low. Ace didn’t know he could look so flustered, but it was an endearing sight that he can’t help but to smile at.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly to save the older from his stammering, “I should be saying thank you, you saved me back there,”

And it’s not that he minded; Everything aside, it had been a damn good kiss.

“O-oh, uh,” Marco cleared his throat, and even with the dim light, Ace could see that the redness on his cheeks has slowly spread across his face, “Thanks, i guess. Glad you think so,”

It took Ace some embarrassingly long seconds to realize that his tongue was tingling, which means he had said that out loud. Again, “I-i’m sorry! I mean, w-well yeah, it was a good kiss, but i don’t know where that thought came from,” he bit his lower lips, once again putting pressure on his wound, but this time, he paid it no mind, “I don’t know where all of these thoughts came from. Like the part about not trusting Pops to keep his words, about— about everything. I, I don’t—“

Once again, he was silenced as a hand was placed on the side of his face, gently guiding him to turn towards Marco. His face turned serious and eyes full of worry, “It’s okay, Ace, you don’t have to think about that right now, yoi,” the hand slid down to his shoulder and upper arm, gripping him, “It’s been a long day. Go get some rest,” 

At the mention of resting, exhaustion and fatigue made themselves known to the young commander. He stifled a yawn, letting Marco pull him up from the floor, “Yeah,” he nodded, noting that the sound from outside has yet to show any sign of dying down. If he leave now, the halls should still be empty He didn’t really want to face anyone right now, “I should get back to my—“

“Stay here, yoi. You can sleep on my bed,” Marco gestured to his bed, his hand on Ace’s shoulder tightening, “I still has some work to do,”

The courtesy and manner Makino planted into his mind since young reared itself, but the fruit’s influence won over his tongue, “I’d like that,” he suppressed a groan, quickly adding, “But i don’t want to bother you anymore,” At least the fruit let him say as much.

But Marco won’t be deterred, “It won’t. In fact, it’ll make me feel better to know you have a good night rest after all of this,”

Ace wanted to argue against it, but with the stern gaze Marco pinned him, double by the fatigue that slowly seeped to his core, for the first time, he decided that this isn’t a battle worth fighting. Without another word, he walked over to the bed and laid down, as Marco made his way to his desk. Marco’s mattress was a lot harder than his, he observed, as if it hadn’t seen much use despite how long this must’ve been here. From over his shoulder, Ace watched as the older man settled to his desk, hunching over a stack of paper and picked up his quill. 

“Ace,”

“…Yes?”

Marco’s broad shoulders prevented him from seeing what he was doing, but Ace noted that the hand dipping his quill in ink has stopped, “You have every right to be afraid, and you’re allowed to keep your own secrets. We all have our own, after all,” the quill was raised away from the ink bottle, “But i hope that one day, you’ll see that you’re amongst family, and that your fear is unfounded,”

He turned, just enough to Ace to see the smile on his face and the warmth in his eyes that made Ace’s heart pounded and stomach to flutter, “At the very least, please take comfort in knowing that no matter what, you can always count on me. Please never doubt that, yoi,”

Ace pressed the side of his arm to his stomach when the fluttering grew substantially, and buried his head against the pillow when he could feel his face burning hot, as if he had lit them on fire, “I won’t,” he managed to say in the end, “Thank you,”

From over on the desk, Marco chuckled rather demurely, “I’m sorry. That came out of the left field, doesn’t it?” he shook his head with a sigh, and turned back to his desk, “Good night, Ace,”

“Good night,”

The last thing he saw was of Marco’s purple-clad back, illuminated by the lantern on his work desk and the older’s faint scent from the pillow underneath his head, giving him the sense of safety that lull him to deep slumber.

Chapter Text

There’s a brief moment of déjà vu when Ace first opened his eyes, only to once again find Marco’s back to him, hunched over the table. There are a few differences, starting from the bright sky outside of the circular window, signalling an early morning, and that the stack of paperworks has been moved from one side of the table to the other, while there’s stacks of books on their place. When Ace shifted, he found that there is also a blanket strewn over him. Not that it made any difference - his Devil Fruit made it sure that he could only ever feel relatively warm, no matter what the real temperature was - but the thought was appreciated.

But aside from all of that, Marco didn’t look like he had moved at all from behind his desk, hunched over with the lantern in front of him long extinguished.

With a soft groan, Ace pushed himself up to a sitting position. This movement seems to caught Marco’s attention, “Oh, you’re up, yoi,” Ace looked up to find the older man looking over his shoulder, allowing him to now see that he had been reading the dictionary again, “It’s still quite early in the morning, so you can go back to sleep again if you wanted to. Don’t think anyone will be up at this hour, especially after yesterday,”

With drowsiness still heavy in his head, the offer was tempting. But Ace shook it off, rubbing his eyes and grimacing at the amount of dried out crust on the corner of his eyes. 

Sitting up and replaying everything that happened the day before made it felt surreal, like it was all a figment of his dream. He reached up tentatively, placing his hand around his neck and up to his mouth. The stinging pain on his lips made it clear to him that what happened was unfortunately quite true enough, and with a sigh, the raven haired male dropped his hand back to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” 

Fine, he wanted to say, yet, “Not good,” was what came out of his mouth. Immediately, Ace winced, “Oh, fuck,”

The chair creaked at the other side of the room, and Marco made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge, right next to his thigh, “It hasn’t gone away yet, then,” the older commented, before sighing. Ace shook his head, pulling his knee to his chest and burying his head between the crook.

The silence stretched between them, which Ace was grateful for. He didn’t feel like talking, for one, the concept of having no control over his speech becoming more and more daunting the more he dwells on it. It wasn’t as much because of what happened - nearly happened, thanks to Marco - yesterday, as it was about the anxiety over what may happen now. 

But of course, that blessed silence couldn’t stay long, even if Marco sounded genuinely hesitant when he broke it, “I didn’t want to mention anything yesterday,” Ace lifted his head slightly from his hiding place, peering to Marco from behind his dark locks. He had the dictionary open on his lap, and Ace could see notes written on the margin, dried ink that he was sure hadn’t been there the day before, “And i don’t want to alert you, but Ace, your situation might be a lot more dire than we thought, yoi,”

“No shit,” the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even process it. Ace flinched; the fruit didn’t made him do that, “Sorry,”

“It’s okay,” the older reassured him, not looking away from the page he was reading, “The dictionary simply gave a basic description based on observation, which is why i hadn’t caught this earlier, but what you said yesterday made me think there’s more to it than just simply making you tell the truth,”

Marco flipped the page, and Ace found that there’s even more notes on this page, the new ink mingling together with the book’s printed ones. From where he sat, Ace could see that some were written in odd letters that he could make heads or tails out of it. He had seen a lot of Marco’s handwriting from paperworks and notices around the ship, but never in that form. It was rather fascinating, “It would seems that when it was said that the fruit forces you to tell the truth, it doesn’t even begin to cover its full capability,”

Dread settled in Ace’s core, as he asked timidly, “W-what else is there?”

“When the book mentions ‘truth’, i originally thought it was talking about verbal confession, but then you started loosing your ability to filter your thoughts, i began to suspect that there’s more into it,” With one finger, the blonde commander traced over one of the larger notes in a previously empty space between the paragraphs, “Yesterday you mentioned that you didn’t know where all of the thoughts you blurted out came from, so i decided to look deeper into it, yoi,”

“Most of the things i came up with were hypothetical, of course, because Paramecia, unlike Zoan and Logia, are varied and not quite as easily identifiable. But i do have a theory about the extent of the effect it may have on you, yoi. I thought it would end once you woke up, but evidently not, so i can at least cross out some of the other theories i have,”

So Marco began to explain, quoting jargons Ace would guess he read from the various books on the desk and explaining in painstaking detail about the reasoning behind his theories. The more he spoke, the more he flipped on the book, revealing even more notes and showing just how much work he had put into this research. Ace, in the months he had been on this ship had never once heard the older man spoke this much and in this amount and length.  

As the blonde continued to speak, Ace’s eyes wandered around the room, he began to notice little details that he had missed when he first woke up; There’s a large gap in between each row of Marco’s bookshelf, each previously neatly placed ones, and he could hazard a guess that that’s where the stacks of books on the table came from. The lantern was out of oil and the wick was long since burnt to crisp, showing that it had been used the entire night. There’s no evidence of any makeshift bed anywhere, and Ace highly doubted Marco even left the room the entire night. 

Which brings him to question, “Did you even go to sleep last night?”

Whatever Marco was about to say died down, and he shook his head, “Didn’t need to, yoi,” he said shortly, and seems like he was about to continue with his point had Ace not beat him to the punch.

“Don’t you at least rest for a while?”

“I have other things to do,” he said in a dismissive tone, and before Ace could say anything else, immediately continued, “Anyway, this explains why the effect lasted so long: The man from yesterday clearly didn’t have a good grasp of his power just yet, which means that the effect casted on you is extremely uncontrollable. Remember when you first got your Devil Fruit? You almost burned down an entire island because you couldn’t control your fire. Same goes in this case—“

“Marco, that can’t be healthy,”

“With regeneration, i can stay awake for months if i have to,” the blonde commander glanced up at him, frowning, “Look, Ace, i need you to worry less about me and more about yourself right now, yoi. Remember when i told you yesterday that experience user can make their enemy confess even the deepest thoughts that they aren’t privy to? I’m starting to suspect that is exactly what is happening right now. Because of that pirate’s inexperienced use of his power, he may have accidentally caused it to have a prolonged effect, and i fear that this may also influence the effect it has on you,”

He raised one hand, motioning to his own head, “These unsolicited thoughts you’re having? It’s that fruit’s doing. It’s not just making you tell the truth to people, it’s making you do that to even to yourself,”

Being told that, Ace could only blink and frown, “I, I don’t get it,”

“Human psyche is a very complicated thing. Your mind works on its own pace, accomodating and making sure it balances you. This fruit? It made you lose that sense of balance. It forces you to face thoughts, memories, even feelings, anything otherwise repressed in your subconscious. You know those sayings about ‘being honest to yourself?’ This fruit forces you, probably to an extreme capacity and beyond your mind’s capability, whether you like it or not. And to make it worse, some out of control Paramecia fruits has been reported to have effects that will get worse as time pass, and right now we have no way to tell when this will finally end,”

Again, Ace didn’t have the chance to say a word, when Marco raised a finger quite close to his face, making the younger jolt back and nearly cross eyed at the distance, “I’ve been looking for ways to counter-act this,” He rushed over to his desk and returned with a hurried leap on his step, showing Ace a thick stack of paper that he had originally thought to be paperwork. 

Up close, the freckled male could now see that it was paragraphs upon paragraphs of words, all of them relaying the long winded explanation Marco had given earlier and some added notes, complete with diagrams and bullet points on the side. It was all written neatly, with even the pages listed on the bottom of the paper until the last dozen of pages or so, presumably once Marco became too engrossed to remember. Ace wondered how long did Marco spent on all of this before he woke up, and wondered even further about the amount of dedication he puts into this research. 

“Marco,” he managed to say in between skimming through the pages, astonished by the content and effort placed in each page, “This is…,”

“There is no actual way to stop a Devil Fruit’s effect, but we can always make them more manageable. This is all i can think of to do so, until it disappears,” The blonde sighed, gaining Ace’s attention, “Of course, worse come to worse, we may have to tell Pops to have you taken off duty until—“

“What?! No!”

“Ace, this isn’t negotiable. This is for your own good, yoi,”

“No, I can still do my job! I’m not going to put in handicap just because of this!”

The frown between Marco’s eyebrows deepened, his voice gaining a slight edge to it as he retorted, “Now is really not the time to be stubborn, Ace. Your condition is serious, it will compromise you as time goes on—“

The dark haired commander gestured to the papers still clutched in his hand, slapping them against the bed as emphasis, “You came up with all of this to make sure that didn’t happen, didn’t you? And i’m not going to let some,” he shook his head, trying to find the proper word before Marco can get a word in, “mind screw Devil Fruit power stop me from doing my job!”

“Would you stop and think about your predicament for once! Goddamnit, Ace, did you forget what just happened last night?!”

Ace flinched at the reminder. A full-body, breath-cutting flinch, before he dropped his head down at the reminder, dark locks falling down on his face to hide part of his face from view as he spoke, words forced out of his mouth, “No. No i don’t,”

After a few beat of silence, Marco sighed, heavily and wearily, “I’m sorry, yoi. I shouldn’t have said that,” he turned until his front faced Ace, one leg laid on the bed and nearly touched Ace’s underneath the blanket. From the corner of his eyes, the younger could see him reaching over to his blanket-clad knee with one hand, but stopped mid way and retracted said hand back, “But Ace, please. Just this once, understand where i’m coming from. I wanted to— I wanted to help you,”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Yeah, but why?” the question had first slipped out of his mouth, but now as he speak, it wasn’t due to the Devil Fruit that he was unable to stop. The thought has been nagging him since he first saw the book in Marco’s hand, the writing and all of those papers. All of the things that showed that throughout the night, Marco had done nothing else but worrying about Ace. That he kept worrying about Ace, that he was always there, watching carefully, that he was always there the moment Ace needed help, to pull him away into seclusion the moment he needed it, knowing the right words to say, all of it, “Why do you care so much?”

Marco’s lips were parted seconds later, but no matter how long Ace waited, the answer never came. He slowly moved his gaze away, staring to the empty floorboards just underneath the bed, “Why?” Ace asked once again, as the silence kept stretching longer and longer. 

“Because,” the older man finally spoke, voice a near whisper, as if he wasn’t sure of what to say, or if he wanted Ace to hear what he had to say, “Because of course i wanted to help you, what kind of question is that?” He stood up, leaving the book on the bed next to Ace as he made his way to the door, “Everyone should be up by now. I have to check on Pops to see that he didn’t overdo it last night,” 

Marco opened the door, and was about to step out when he suddenly stop and turned back, “Ace,” Ace gave him a mere glance to show that he was listening. The blonde pursed his lips, before he continued, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure out how to deal with this. I won’t let what happened last night happen again to you, yoi,”

Ace simply stared at him. After a few seconds of silence, Marco finally walked out, not sparing the room any more glance. 

When his footsteps finally faded to the distance, Ace picked the Devil Fruit dictionary and the stack of notes up, placing them on to his lap. He started reading slowly, but after a while, all he could see was the subtle little changes in Marco’s handwriting and wordings on the papers. The stressing and frustration on paragraphs that seems to spoke of negative impacts and effects this fruit produced greatly differed from the more rushed and excited writing on possible countermeasures. 

It took a while for Ace to recognize the odd writing on the dictionary to be a foreign alphabet, probably from Marco’s birth region, and while he couldn’t read them, Ace thought maybe that was the point. He also noticed that only the entry about the Truth-Truth fruit seems to have any kind of writing on them, while the rest only has marks of being well read. There wasn’t even any kind notes placed on the extremely short entry regarding Mythical Zoan, which Ace would guess was the whole reason Marco even own this rare book.

He didn’t even get pass the first page of the stack of papers when Ace dropped them back to his lap and laid back down to the bed, one hand resting on his stomach and the other covering his eyes. 

“You won’t let it happen to me again, huh?” he found himself saying to thin air, his hand further clutching tightly on to the innocent papers in his hand, taking the brunt of his slowly developing frustration, “You don’t get to say cool things like that when you lie blatantly to my face and can run away while i’m like this. Stupid Marco,”

Chapter Text

Just like how there was guaranteed to be a party in the beginning of every month, the amount of hungover people littering the dining hall was equally predictable. Crew members and Commanders alike were strewn all over the place, useless as a a dangling seaweed, and should one dare to strain their hearing, one can hear the displeased rumbling from the captain’s quarters, just a few feet away. Only several lucky or smart enough not to get absolutely wasted the night before could function normally, but those were rare far in between the crew.

On one of the larger table near the kitchen, where most of the commanders were gathered, Fossa grumbled around his newly lit cigar, holding them to his mouth with shaky hand. He had his other hand on Namul’s back, who was half sobbing and half groaning, rubbing and patting the fishman’s back to provide little relief in his bouts with headache, “I hate you,” the blue-skinned commander sobbed, “I threw up everything i had this morning and i can still taste stale beer in my gills, why would you dare me to jump into Pops’ tankard, Fossa?”

The swordsman grumbled, “Well, how am i supposed to know you’ll breathe the beer in?”

In front of them, Curiel looked up from his slump, stripped helmet tilted on top of his head, “He’s a fishman, you dumbass, breathing in whenever he’s in a body of water is a reflex!”

“Well, it wasn’t water, it’s beer! How am i supposed to know he’ll do the same?!”

“Dumbass!”

“Don’t call me a dumbass!”

“Shut the fuck up!’ came the irritated chorus from the people around, immediately ceasing all sorts of fight in between them.

In between them, Vista chuckled, taking a calm and elegant sip of his morning tea. He had been one of the few who had abstain from drinking too much last night, on account of his division having patrol last night, where he had taken over the duty and let his men enjoyed the party. Lack of sleep was nothing compared to the result of getting hammered all night long. From in front of him, he could see Thatch and Rakuyo glaring at him with envy, which he promptly ignored.

Next to him, with a giant air intake, Jozu rose from his previous slumped position, “I’m never drinking again,” Which is a goddamn lie that someone always says the day after party, which they all know would never come true. Soon, the next month will roll again with new reasons to celebrate, and the entire ship will be reduced into a group of useless mess. It’s a good thing the marines usually refrained from attacking them or else, Moby will be utterly defenseless.

“But last night was pretty damn wild, even for our standard. Hell, last night was wild even for Red Haired Pirate’s standard, ” Kingdew piped up from the very end of the table, leaning his massive build against the wall, “It’s the new beer. Man, i love it whenever we go landed on that North Blue resort, we always ended up leaving with the best drinks in all 4 seas,”

A chorus of agreement sounded throughout the dining hall, when a crew member from the other side of the room half-shouted, much to his fellow hungover victim’s irritation, “It’s the good Grand Line weather! We haven’t seen a clear night in weeks!”

“The food! It’s the food! The fourth division has outdone themselves!”

“Good music!”

“Good nakama aaallll around me,” someone singsonged, earning him both admonition for being too loud and weak cheers. 

“Good nakama indeed,” Thatch cackled in the middle of the noises, digging into his pocket and shooting his arms up to reveal bags upon bags full of belli. One of the shiny gold coin fell from the flimsy bag to his forehead, not that the cook seems to notice. Jozu’s face immediately went sour at the sight of it, as does Atmos and several other men on the tables behind them. Even swaying on his seat - and needed to be kept balanced by Blamenco and Rakuyo - Thatch twirls the bags in his hand proudly, making sure that the clinking noise from the inside is audible with every motion,  “My nakama made me rich last night!”

“Come of it, you just got lucky!” Atmos groused from afar, staring forlornly at the bag that was previously in his and several other’s possession, “How are we supposed to know that they’re already together?! Everyone thought Marco still had a ‘can’t-spit-it-out’ sickness!”

“Pretty sure they’re already getting it on,” Rakuyo said from next to Thatch, swatting the bag of bellis away when Thatch dangled them in front of his face. Underneath the table, his flail rolled around, bumping on to his leg probably in an attempt to tell him to lower his volume. It had been pretty drunk as well last night, “That kiss last night, and then ‘turning in early’ after that?” The dreadlocked man whistled, and once again, his flail bumped against his leg in protest.

From between the two giant pillars that are Atmos and Bleinheim, Haruta poked his head out, eyes bright regardless the bags underneath them, “Wait, what if they got together a long time ago and we’ve only found out yesterday? Marco’s always been secretive, i bet he made the decision to keep it on the down low until yesterday!”

“Maybe that’s what him and Ace was talking about before we found them!” Jiru added from right across the lithe swordsman, glancing between Haruta and Kingdew next to him, the corners of his lips forming a scandalous smile, “I thought maybe they were fighting because Marco looked so tense, but what if Ace was trying to convince him to come clean to us?”

Their exchange was stopped with a quick swipe of a fan in between them, “Hmph. Shows what kids know relationships,” Izou scoffed, pulling a single stray strand away from his face, “And so unobservant. They were hiding on their own before you and Kingdew went looking for them, and throughout the whole truth or dare game, they’re completely engrossed with each other. Ace even had his hands on Marco’s thigh, smiling all shy, and that kiss? The passion, the fire, the way Marco pretty much had to haul Ace away?” he snapped his fans on his palm, swiping it to the general direction of the entire room, “Boys, that’s the sign of a new couple barely out of their juvenile admiration towards each other and yet to discover the land of intimacy!”

“Ewwww, Izou, don’t put it like that, they’re still our brothers!”

“Oh, stop acting like children!”

Mass hangover soon forgotten, the activity in the dining area began to pick up with plentiful of speculations about the First and Second Commander’s love life, starting from the simple possibility to how far they have gotten to what sort of things they were up to last night or even the times before when no one in the ship was any wiser. No topic of conversation in the suddenly crowded area strayed away from the same topic, even if it differs in aspects.

“I’m telling you, the relationship has got to be new! It can’t be that old, we would’ve noticed something!”

“You mean you won’t notice, Izou, no one in the entire world can beat you in being a busybody,”

“You want to repeat that, Curiel?!”

“No, remember how Commander Ace was touching his lips all the time yesterday? Bet they first kissed yesterday, calling it now,”

“Oh my god, you don’t think that’s Commander Ace’s first kiss, do you? Is that why he’s like that the entire day?”

“Come on, Commander Ace is totally a virgin, you can tell. If they did sleep together yesterday after they left, then Commander Marco popped his cherry, no doubt about it,”

“Dude! That’s our commander! Can you please not talk about his—”

“His what? Virginity? I’m just speculating, Commander Marco’s the one who took it!”

“We don’t even know that!”

“Come on, Jozu, huh? Huh? What do you say? One more bet, double or nothing! Atmos, come on, you too! Blenheim! Izou! Vista! Come on!”

“Thatch, the day you come close to my money will be a cold day in hell,”

It was in the middle of this amalgamation of rowdy exchanges that Ace walked in, oblivious to the eyes the silence that immediately descended or the eyes that followed his every steps the moment he appeared in sight. Even the kitchen staff stopped what they were doing the moment he approached, one of them silently pulling out one of the larger plates that they had and slowly stack it up with every variation of breakfast that morning. It was mostly greasy food sprinkled with bitter grounded roots, a well known hangover cure from a secluded island in Grand Line, but he supposed the commander won’t mind.

Or notice, apparently, because even as the plate was placed in front of him, the dark haired youth barely gave it a single glance. He looked lost in his own thought, eyes staring blankly to the floor. He continued to be in that same dazed state as he finally took notice of the breakfast served in front of him seconds later and walked over to an empty spot in the commander’s table, quite far away from the rest. Then, instead of digging in as usual, Ace lethargically plucked a piece of seaking jerky from the top of the mound before nibbling on them. 

His odd behaviour entering the dining hall had caught attention, and the fact that his food didn’t disappear in a blink of an eye raised a lot of eyebrows.

Commanders and crew members alike looked at each other, silently exchanging questions in between themselves. It was near comical what a coordinated move it was in between over 1000 people, and it was with the same amount of coordination did everyone’s eyebrows raised in alarm when Thatch stumbled out of his seat and made his way over to the lone newcomer. 

“Good morning, Ace,” he greeted normally, or as normally can one be with a large mischievous grin on their face, “So uh, didn’t see much of you last night,”

Ace, still quietly nibbling on the same piece of jerky, hummed noncommittally. 

Discreetly, the pompadoured cook glanced to his fellow commanders. Rakuyo, Jozu and Vista, the one closest to him shook their heads, with Vista even motioning to him to go back to his seat, while the rest simply looked at each other. Thatch ignored them, instead leaning and putting on a large grin, “Had a good night then?”

Someone hissed ‘oh my god, Thatch’ lowly yet audibly, but Thatch paid them no mind. Instead, he paid full attention to Ace, who flinched at his question, missing on the jerky and biting his lower lips and tongue instead. The older man noticed the bruise on the side of the Ace’s lips then, and what seems like a leftover of dried blood. He was about to ask about it when Ace replied, voice quivering slightly, obviously upset, “No. No i didn’t,”

Without even looking, Thatch knew that everyone was now looking at everyone again, this time with the same amount of alarm and shock as he’s feeling. So many thoughts ran through his head - and possibly everybody else’s - and looking at Ace did not help stifle his growing worry. Ace looked downright miserable the moment those words left him, biting on the insides of his mouth and bowing his head down, not before Thatch missed the way he squeezed his eyes shut.

Then their ‘little brother’ opened his mouth once again, and Thatch was left aghast, “Just thinking about what happened last night… It hurts. It hurts so bad,”

“You poor baby!” was the only warning anyone gets before Ace was steamrolled to the side by a blur of pink and purple that was Izou, latching to his side and smothering him in what was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture, “Oh, you poor, poor, sweet child, i’m so sorry to hear that! Really, Marco should’ve known better! Oh, Ace, i’m so sorry to hear—“

“What’s going on here?”

Thatch glanced to the side and immediately gulped. The temperature in the room seems to drop significantly once he saw Marco looming over him, eyes in a stern glare and holding the same coldness as his voice as he aimed his sight at both himself and Izou. A quick glance to the side also told him that everyone else had purposefully avoid looking at their general direction, and Thatch couldn’t blame them; Marco’s freaking scary when he’s like this.

But while Thatch immediately evacuated the vicinity - before he can get talons to the face again - Izou was a lot more adamant than he is, still clung to Ace’s side and glaring deviantly at the First Division Commander, “Leave him alone, Izou,”

“And just who do you think you—“

“Now,”

He didn’t need to raise his volume, but there hasn’t been a time that tone of voice and the calm fury behind it wasn’t scary on its own. The sudden weight and pressure in the room made Thatch scrambled even faster back to his seat, hiding behind Blamenco’s larger body. Izou was visibly surprised and shaken by the intensity of Marco’s reprimand, and despite still hesitating for a few seconds, he eventually left with one final pat to Ace’s shoulder.

When Marco sat down, the pressure hadn’t left. Everyone visibly shudders as he gave the entire area a cursory look, as if daring people to give them any extra attention. 

It was when Ace spoke that it finally died down, and the change in Marco’s stern expression was enough to give any onlookers a whiplash, “Why are you here?”

Everyone was holding their breath again, but it wasn’t due to fear over Marco, but in trepidation over Ace’s own silent fury behind his words. Even Marco seems caught off guard, eyes widened from their usual half-lidded position, and there’s a quiet hesitation in his voice as he replied, “I wanted to check if you’re alright,”

Ace scoffed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. It reminded them of his rebellious days, when he was still convinced that they’re the ‘enemy’, and would do nothing but spite them and their father. “You saw that i was this morning,” he uttered drily, “Before you ran off on me,”

A low ‘oooo’ escaped from Thatch’s mouth, low enough that he’s sure it didn’t reach Marco or Ace, but the room was so silent he can’t be too sure. Blamenco slapped his side, shushing him.

The look on Marco’s face was nothing short of devastated and full of guilt, “I… I didn’t mean to…,”

“You never did,” Ace snippily, “Forget it,” suddenly pulling his plate in front of him and devouring it in the same, if not faster rate than he usually does. Those who were sitting in the correct angle to be able to see him behind the impressive mound of food could see that he was forcing himself to eat, instead of actually being hungry. In front of him, Marco opened his mouth, but decided to keep quiet.

For a moment, nobody dared to speak. People began to come in one by one, entering the dining hall with groans of pain or simple chatters, but all of that immediately fell silent upon noticing the tension running inside. Once or twice, someone would sit down and ask their neighbour what’s going on in a stage whisper, before being quickly shut by said person or even their entire surrounding.

It was when Ace’s plate decreased to half of what it used to be did the young commander finally spoke again, eyes downcast, “I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice low but considering he was the only person talking, it might as well be a shout, “I don’t know where that came from. You had something else to do, after all,”

“Are you m—“ Marco stopped himself mid sentence, blinking hard and shaking his head, as if he caught himself on time, “It’s alright if you’re angry with me. My sudden exit this morning was… unacceptable, especially after everything,” 

“No, Marco,” Ace sighed, “I’m not angry. Last night was horrible and i’m still out of balance and irritable because of it this morning, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were doing everything you can to help me, i should be thankful to you,”

The blonde commander frowned, despite the small smile Ace throws his way, “Is it still— I mean, Are you—,” he grunted, looking annoyed, but who he was irritated with wasn’t clear, “Ace, you’re—“ he fell silent again, running a hand through his hair. 

When the silence became too long, Ace sighed again, “Marco, will you just say what you wanted to? You know you don’t have to be this careful and delicate with me just because of my condition, right?” he shrugged, levelling Marco’s unsure gaze with an even one, “I meant what i said. This situation sucks, but being treated like this, especially by you, is a lot more uncomfortable. I know you meant well, but i can take care of myself,”

“And i also meant what i said, Ace, It’s not that i don’t think you can’t take care of yourself,” Marco replied, “I just wanted to make sure this won’t be hard on you more than it already is. I promised that i’ll be there for you no matter what, and i intended to keep that promise,”

The mild annoyance on the younger’s freckled face slowly faded into awe, his lips slightly parted and eyes wide. When he smiled, it was gentle, almost serene, accompanied with light dusting of blush on his freckled face and a shine in his eyes. He looked absolutely beatific, “You’re always like this. So caring and you know what to say,” Ace’s voice was soft, almost affectionate, and for everyone else who wasn’t Marco, it felt wrong hearing it when it was clearly not for them, “Last night was a horrible experience, but with your words and actions, you made it better. You even made me feel good, really good, and i… i never felt like that before. Even now, just hearing you say that makes me feel safe, like everything’s going to be fine, somehow,”

In front of him, Marco simply looked stunned, an expression copied all around the room. The redness on his cheeks deepened significantly as he suddenly widened his eyes and raised a hand to his mouth, “I— D-did i say that out loud?” he asked with a tremor on his voice and a look of mortification on his face, “Marco, i— I don’t know where all of that came from. I didn’t mean to say it, i—“ he stood up making his chair fall with a loud thud in his haste. He blanched the moment he realized that every eyes in the room was on him.

“Ace,” Marco stood up as well, brows furrowed and one hand extended, aiming for the younger’s shoulder, “Calm down, it’s just the—“

But Ace jerked violently to the side, avoiding Marco’s touch, “I have to go,” he blurted hurriedly, and does exactly that. He was merely a blur of black and orange as he slammed the dining hall door’s open, nearly bumping to an unlucky newcomer and left before anyone can process what just happened.

The dining hall once again descended into silence, all eyes focused on the First Division Captain’s extended arm grasping on to thin air. He retrieved it slowly, then glanced behind his shoulder, eyes finding everyone else’s in the room. There’s threat of absolute pain in those blue orbs, and the pressure from earlier returned tenfold, “If any of you dare to mention what happened earlier, should any of you dare to bother him about this,” this time he aimed his gaze to the commanders, all who flinched without exception, “There will be hell to pay,”

He then left without any other word, taking long strides towards the door. Those closest by to the exit can hear him mutter, ‘There’s got to be something i can do’.

For a moment, nobody talk, not even breath. The pressure slowly dissipate, and at this point nobody can even tell if it’s Haki or just Marco in general that kept them in line.

When someone finally spoke and break the long silence, it was a crew member in the very middle of the room, someone who had been up until Ace entered was fending off his fellow pirate’s speculation about the two commander’s possible love life, “Wait, i’m confused,” he said, looking around the room and back to the empty spot where the two had previously occupied, marked only by Ace’s half finished breakfast, “So, was the sex good or bad?”

“Dude," The man next to him gasped, "Just shut the fuck up before Commander Marco kills you,"

Chapter Text

“So the boys were kind of undecided about how to say this, but i figure i’ll just be blunt with you, boss,” Teach said out of the blue, cutting Ace in the middle of his reorganization for today’s duties and roster, “You sure you don’t wanna take it easy today?”

Ace looked up from his papers to the tubby man in front of him, registering the cheeky smile that showed the hole on one of his teeth, “No,” he answered instantly, before looking around, “Are they still some hungover from last night? Well, i guess it should be oka—“

“No, no, they’re not talking about them, they’re worried for you,” Teach told him, grinning even wider. The smile, and the fact that he wasn’t even being subtle in scanning Ace’s body from top to bottom made the young man felt a tad uncomfortable, “You, eh, you don’t look too hot, if you’ll pardon my pun. Especially with what happened this morning,”

Behind them, plenty of men from his division sent Teach panicked glances and frantically looking up to the sky as if they’re afraid they’ll be snatched away, while Teach just gave them a playful shrug. Ace missed this entire exchange, sighing and falling deep in thought. After his escape following the rather embarrassing outburst earlier, he had hidden himself in his own quarters, and had originally planned to holed himself up until the fruit’s effect ended. He hadn’t finished reading Marco’s notes from this morning, but he could gather that it’s going to get worse.

And it did, as evident by the events during breakfast. It wasn’t just his tongue and mouth anymore, it was like his thoughts had gained free reign, derailing any of what he could recognize as himself away to something that’s… not. And it was a lot more discontenting when he remembered that this foreign part was supposed to be him as well, or at least, some version of him dragged out by the Truth-Truth Fruit.

Still, he has his own duties to do, and just because he felt frustrated by the Devil Fruit affecting him, doesn’t mean he can’t try to work his own way of getting the upper hand on it. So far, his biggest problem was his out of control speech, and he has learned that as long as whatever he said does not directly contradict the question or statement his tongue force him to answer, there won’t be a problem. For example, “It’s okay, Teach,” he said with a grin, “I don’t want to neglect my duties, after all,”

The words came out smoothly, the fruit unable to detect any hint of lie on it. He had learned from talking to Marco that mentioning anything to do with his condition often would result in him saying the exact opposite of what he needed to say. The same goes for his personal feeling or thoughts, so as long as he avoided it, he should be fine. 

Teach let out a chuckle, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “A hardworker, ain’t ‘cha?,” he hummed, then giving his surrounding a quick glance before continuing, “Still, that’s a shocker, ain’t it. You and Commander Marco, huh?”

Him and Marco… what? Ace blinked, waiting for Teach to give him a further explanation but nothing came. The older man just kept smiling, leering down at him with the very same grin, “Um,” was all he managed to say, tilting his head to the side, “I’m not sure what you’re asking,”

But instead of giving him an explanation like he thought he would, Teach only laughed boisterously, “Is that so? Prefer to be a little direct, do you? I like your style, boss,” his laughter died down to little hums, and he took a step closer, crossing the already small distance between him and Ace. Teach leaned down, close enough that Ace could tell that he had his favorite Cherry Pie for lunch and still had a piece of crust stuck between his incisors, “Tell me then boss, this thing you had going on with him, is it an exclusive thing or are you a free game—“

“I thought that most of you has been on this ship long enough to know the difference between break time and work, yoi,”

As if being startled by the talons of the giant bird that suddenly landed himself on his shoulder wasn’t enough, Ace felt like he could’ve jumped out of his skin from the terrified shriek that came from the majority of his men, half who scrambled away from the area as fast as they could and the other half who suddenly started doing their work twice as fast. Someone on the very back even accidentally bumping his head against the person next to him in his haste in lifting up a crate, then turned around only to bump his head against someone else.

But unlike everyone, Teach seems unfazed, only taking 2 steps back as soon as Marco landed and raising both hands as a gesture of peace, “Oh, don’t worry Commander, we’re working. Our boss is a hard worker, gotta follow his example,” he said with a wink to Ace’s direction, before once again addressing Marco, “Just a friendly banter between crew mates now, there’s nothing wrong with that,”

Though Marco barely seems to react, Ace winced when the talons suddenly dug deeper, almost painfully on his shoulder, “No, indeed there isn’t,” the zoan acknowledge, “Unless it began to interfere with your duties, as i’m sure you know, Teach,”

“Come now, there’s no need to be so uptight about things. Everything is still right on schedule,” the dark skinned man turned to Ace, “Isn’t that right, boss?”

“I don’t know,” was Ace’s automatic response, courtesy of the fruit affecting him and immediately Marco ruffled his feathers - flames? - eyes narrowing threateningly. He looked pissed off, in Ace’s opinion, and in a second, the weight on Ace’s shoulder left and there was a flash of blue and yellow before Marco stood tall in front of him, not quite as close as Teach was but enough that Ace can catch the scent of seawater clinging on to him. Which was odd, Ace thought, since Marco usually spends more time in the navigation room or Pops’ room around this time of the day, and the scent only told Ace that he’s been out and about for quite a while.

Behind Teach, some of the men started falling all over themselves again, letting out startled yelps and tripping in trying to get away. 

Ace paid them no mind, clutching the list in his hand a little tighter while glancing between the two men in front of him, trapped in a silent staring contest . Something else is transpiring here, something that goes over his head, but he knows it’ll be foolish for him to ask about it. Teach was just as laid back as he was in the beginning of their conversation before Marco arrived, but Ace could see that behind the blonde’s equally relaxed hooded eyes, there’s a certain tension to them, though because of what, Ace couldn’t quite tell.

In the end, it was Teach who made the first move to break the silence, laughing - cackling even - out loud, with his head tossed back, “Alright, i see how it is,” he said, moving his sight from Marco to Ace and staying, “Guess i got my answer, one way or another. What a pity,” he gave Ace an odd smile, and without any other word, walked away. Several eyes followed his movement as he faded out of side, including Ace’s.

“Is he disrespectful to you?”

He blinked, turning to find Marco gazing down at him with a frown, “No? Why are you asking?”

“Teach,” the older explained, giving the direction where the other man had walked off to a quick look before looking back to Ace, “Is he bothering you?”

Ace tilted his head in confusion, trying to gauge where that might’ve come from as he lets the fruit draws out the reply, “No. He’s actually a pretty nice guy. He showed me the ropes when i first got assigned to the second division and he’s been really helpful after i’m promoted to commander,” 

The blonde gave him a brief look, “Hm. If you say so,” he said, before sighing, “Sorry, i shouldn’t have asked you questions like that,”

To anyone else listening in to them, it would seem like Marco’s apology comes from the nature of his question and the rather unfriendly tone it was delivered in. But Ace was reminded of this morning, of Marco’s effort to avoid triggering the fruit’s effect in any way and felt a flush creeping up to his cheeks. He hadn’t seen the older after he more or less fled the dining hall, though he heard Marco knocked on his door once while he was still hiding in it. Ace’s list for the day was delivered by Haruta, instead of him receiving it directly from Marco as per usual, and while his duty confined him to a more open area of the deck with the rest of his men, he hadn’t seen a hide nor tail of him, which led Ace to believe that Marco also made the effort not to come across Ace’s path.

At least, not until right now.

Why was he here now?

“Um—”

“I’ll leave you to your work then,”

“Wha— Marco!”

But Marco took off, shifting mid jump into his phoenix form and flew away to some other part of Moby. Ace watched him leave with gaping mouth, confused by the abruptness of it all.

In a way, he thought, maybe it was a good thing. He’s still honestly quite mortified with what happened, maybe Marco was on the same boat. He did say some pretty odd things, there’s no doubt Marco was weirded out by him now. At least he knew that Ace didn’t say all of that voluntarily.

Then again, he was affected by a fruit that forces him to tell the truth, which is probably worse. Ace couldn’t just tell him he didn’t mean it because that’s impossible, and Marco probably know more about this fruit than him at this point to call him out on that. Besides, even if Ace couldn’t tell where and how he started thinking of Marco as some sort of a comforting and safe presence, that doesn’t make it less true, even if he doesn’t know it himself and—

Nearly every member of the second division jumped in alarm when they heard a loud slap, and turned wide eyed to the source of said noise. Their commander was standing with one arm shooting to the side, palms flat, and with his cheek rapidly reddening against pale and freckled cheek, “Gaah, enoooough!” he moaned, shaking his head rapidly, “I’m so goddamn confused! This is all messing me up!”

“C-commander Ace?”

As people watched the young commander continued his tantrum, no one paid any attention to the speck of blue and yellow on the very top of the mast, a constant presence they would’ve noticed had been there the entire day should anyone bothered to look up.

Food is good. Food is not confusing. Food is a friend.

Food is always a source of comfort that doesn’t involve having that feeling -may or may not - being dragged out of him by some mindfuck Devil Fruit that ended up messing up his day and his mood aside from everything else it messed up, so Ace will turn to food and no one can stop him.

Which is why dinner time found the habitually shirtless young man in front of two beyond full plates, gorging himself with one edible meal after another with more vigour than usual. The people on kitchen duty hadn’t stopped him when he requested extra - the scowl and slight flame on his arm might’ve helped - and nobody bothered him, which is always a good thing. He’s not on the mood today for another vague conversation that he’s only half part in, and the only person he’d accept talking to him right now is someone who’d either bring him more food, a news about an emergency or Pops.

And maybe Marco.

Ace scowled deeper, shoving an entire Lapin leg into his mouth and pulling the bone out picked clean. No, wait, not Marco. 

Marco’s the reason he’s this confused, Truth-truth Fruit notwithstanding. So far every single one of the ‘unsolicited thoughts’ part that comes with this fruit was caused and centred around him. Him and his confusing behaviour, the ability to just avoid questions - again, when Ace himself can’t-  the fact that he burnt out candle just to research the best way to deal with the fruit, that he did kind of swooped in to save Ace a few times, then saying that he’d do anything to help him…

Saying that who he is would never matter to him. That he’d always be there for him.

There’s a fussy feeling blooming in the pit of his slowly filled stomach, and Ace knew it wasn’t just his digestive system protesting.

Okay, he thought, as the world around him suddenly goes dark, maybe Marco’s okay too.

Before Ace opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the always awful taste of half chewed food inside of his mouth, a very unfortunate side effect of his narcolepsy, and the fact that someone is poking his cheek. He squirmed a little, little hints of his thoughts before he suddenly fell asleep dotting his mind, “‘arco?”

“Oh, i see how it is now,” someone huffed on top of him, someone who is decidedly not Marco, “The poor friends rooting for you is forgotten now, it’s aaaall about each other. It’s cool, i’ve seen it happen even between the bestest of friends. No one respected bros before hoes anymore,”

“You only heard that term today from some of the younger crew members. Don’t do that, don’t spoil their fun,”

An offended gasp, “Are you saying i’m not young, Jozu?”

“You haven’t been young for the last decade, Thatch, give it up,”

More offended gasp.

“Wait, shouldn’t Ace be the hoes in this situation? Since you’re bros with Marco for longer,”

“Don’t encourage him, Haruta,”

“I think after what happened this morning, nobody will dare being bros with Marco for a while now,”

“Namur—“

“So that automatically switched him to the hoes category while Ace is the bros?”

“Well, Marco would make one menacing hoe, that’s for sure,”

“Is this really a conversation worth having, you two?”

“…Kind of?”

“What are you all talking about?” Ace groaned, shaking his head to chase off any last bit of drowsiness. The first thing he saw was obviously Thatch, with a finger still pressed to his cheek, with Jozu next to him, decidedly looking unimpressed. Right behind the two were Haruta and Namur, peeking out from behind Jozu’s broad shoulders, quietly giggling between themselves. 

The third division commander spoke, “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, swallowing the last of the food inside of his mouth. He picked up his fork and stabbed a particularly fatty piece of steak to bring it to his mouth. It tasted stale and cold, but it doesn’t reduce the pleasure of devouring it. He’s always hungry after a narcoleptic episode, and he’d never turn down food, no matter the condition. Again, food is always good, so he’d be good to food too.

“That’s good to hear,”

“Yeah, everyone’s worried for you,” Thatch piped up, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his upturned palm, “Especially Izou. He wanted to ask how you’re doing but he’s still kind of pissed off at Marco and he’s been wandering around you the whole day,”

That made Ace stop mid-chew, “Marco wasn’t with me the entire day,”

‘Yeah, he was,” the pompadoured man insisted, “Didn’t you see him up on the—“

He stopped. In fact, everyone, including Haruta and Namur’s whispered conversation did. Ace blinked in confusion at them, before he followed their line of sight, just right behind him.

True enough, Marco walked in, a book in hand and glasses perched on his nose. He gave off the appearance of being too deep into the book, but Ace could see that he’s giving his table subtle glanced every now and then, even as he ordered his dinner from the kitchen. Once he was done - with a cup of what Ace would guess was coffee and a small bowl of soup - he sat himself down on  the very end of the room, quite far away but still within Ace’s line of sight.

Conversations began to pick up around him, and once or twice, Ace would contribute in with little hums or any other sounds of acknowledgement. Once or twice, when Marco raised his head, he would find himself starting to form a smile and the man’s name on the tip of his tongue, but Marco would only look back down to his book, once again absorbed by whatever it was he was reading. Stifling his disappointment, he kept his eyes trained on the blonde, silently wondering when he would come over. 

Marco never did. Once he finished his soup and coffee, the older man walked back to the kitchen to put away his dishes, and exited the dining area. 

Still, Ace caught him looking back once, directly to him before the door closes. 

“You didn’t sit with me during dinner,”

Goddamnit, he meant to say ‘us’. ‘Us’, not ‘me’. Is the fruit seriously preventing him from saying just that little slight difference? Okay, so he meant ‘me’ but he does wanted to say ‘us’. That shouldn’t count as a lie! That’s literally just semantics—

“Uh, i’m sorry?” Ace cuts his train of thought short at Marco’s reply, gazing back up to the older. There’s a speck of ink on his jaw, probably from doing paperworks before Ace came over and knocked on his door, “I just thought that you’d need some space after this morning. Also, you said didn’t want me to constantly check up on you,”

“When did i ever—“ Oh, wait, he did say something of that effect, “Well, i also said that it doesn’t mean i didn’t want you around,”

Marco gave him a blank look, and Ace shrunk a little under his stare. Okay, so in retrospect, maybe that was a little bit confusing - hell, he’s confused with himself right about now - but as much as he dislike always having Marco watching his every move, it was rather weird not to have him do that, “Besides, Thatch said you’ve been hiding up in the crow’s nest the whole day doing exactly that. If you’re not going to stop, might as well do it where i can see you,”

Judging from the ‘deer-in-a-headlight’ look that crosses Marco’s face, it seems like Thatch wasn’t lying. He sighed, leaning back and pushing the door leading to his quarter open slightly, “Fine,” he said with a little smile, chuckling, “I’ll go sit with you and bother you with my constant worrying again starting from breakfast tomorrow then,”

Ace snorted, but couldn’t help the smile that began to bloom on his lips.

They stayed like that for a few more seconds, until Marco cleared his throat and glanced back to his work desk, where Ace could see a stack of paperwork lies, “If that’s all you wanted to talk to me about, i should go back to my work,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” the dark haired youth stammered, then pursing his lips, “Actually, there’s one more thing,”

“Yes?”

It probably wasn’t wise to keep on biting on his already swollen and wounded lips, but Ace kept finding himself doing it anyway, The situation surrounding him lately calls for it, “C-can i stay over again tonight?”

It was childish and Ace spent hours berating himself over it before he came, but he can’t help it. After coming back to his own room, he felt restless and troubled, and unlike usual, he couldn’t fall asleep on the drop of a hat. He didn’t know if it was also the effect of the fruit, but the silence and the darkness made him worry, and before he knew it he already left, his feet felt like they’re moving on themselves and he was on Marco’s door and as soon as Marco opened it, the worries were gone, even if it makes no sense. Their rooms were literally only a few metres apart, and usually Ace never had trouble like this, and now that he thought about it, this is the fruit’s doing, although why he’s making him feel like that was honestly confusing but either way, he’s definitely letting it win by doing this—

“Ace,” a hand pressed itself against his mouth, muffling the words free falling away from it. Ace blinked, realizing that Marco was suddenly very close, so close that if Ace tilted his head up a little, he’d bump his nose with Marco’s. He could once agains smell the scent of seawater, this time mingling with a much more familiar scent of ink and parchment paper and as Marco smiled and chuckled, he could feel the older’s breath, sending warm, fluttery sensation to his stomach, “You can stay over for the night if you’d like, no need to ask or explain yourself,”

Ace nodded, eyes in a daze even as the older peeled his hand away from his lips and moved aside from the door, allowing him entry. As Marco made his way over to his desk once more, Ace silently lifted a finger up to his lips, the tip ghosting over his slightly chapped lips. It still feels warm to the touch, and he licked his lips on impulse. He started when he realized what he was doing, staring down to his hand as if it was a foreign object.

“Ace?”

“Coming!”

What the hell is this fruit doing to him? 

Chapter Text

There was a fire in front of him, warm and inviting, and he was laughing.

No, he wasn’t the only one, they were there as well. They were all laughing with him, relishing in each other’s presence. The air was chilly, but they make do, in a little hut with the food they gather by themselves. 

On one side, he saw a smiling face, happy and cheerful, so young and bright. He gazed upon that face with so much affection and love, mouth smiling even as it devoured food after food, and even as grubby hands tried to eat his share. He fends off those hands, turning to the other source of laughter in his other side. Toothy grin met his, blue eyes and hands that reached for his. He extended his own hand, wishing to grasp those tiny ones and never letting go.

But he never did. Those hands disappeared like a wisp of smoke.

It was cold all of the sudden, a sensation that was foreign to him.

He searched for those tiny hands reaching for his. He searched, ran, shouted for it, but they never appeared. He tried to extend his hands one more time, hoping that they’ll take it, that he’ll be able to reach it.

But all there was nothing.

And he was falling, falling, falling, a silent name on the tip of his tongue.

He kept on falling, until he wasn’t. There’s no fire, no illumination at all, but something held his hand, the hand that kept on searching. He could tell immediately that the hands that held his were not the same as the one he’s looking for, but even as he shook them off, they would not let go. They held on with a strong grip, and after a while he stopped struggling. There’s no point, he told himself, because he couldn’t fight them away.

The hands enveloped both of his. They’re warm, replacing the one he had lost so abruptly, and they’re nothing like the one he had lost, but he liked these ones just as much. 

Ace woke up by opening his eyes blearily.

His surrounding was still dark, but there’s a ray of light across the wooden ceilings on top of him, and just out of the line of his sight, he could see flickers of what might be a candle. 

As he took in a deep breath, Ace found that there’s a heavy weight on top of his chest, and as soon as it register, so does that fact that the weight did not stop on his chest, but rather pressed closely to his side. After one slow blink, he shifted his upper body slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what may be the culprit.

The first thing that he noticed was a tuft of gold, splayed across his chest. It was connected to what seems to be a head, also resting on his chest.

It took him blinking a couple more times to be able to make sense of the sight.  

It was Marco, Ace finally concluded, based on the blonde head of hair and the scratchy feeling of stubble across his stomach. He was sitting on a chair - a chair Ace could see came from his work desk - while he laid half of his upper body on the bed in the most stiff and awkward position Ace had ever seen. Despite that, he seems to be in a deep slumber, snoring loud enough that the vibration sent tickling sensation across Ace’s naked skin.

“Marco,” he called out softly, undecided whether he should just let the older sleep on or wake him up so he can move to a better position - will regeneration take care of neck crick? - and was trying to raise his hand up when he realized he couldn’t. Something was weighing his hand down, both of them in fact. He shifted his gaze, and realized that his hands wer held tightly in Marco’s own, both adjacent on either sides of him, fingers intertwining on top of the bedsheets.

Heat rose to the young man’s cheeks. Bits and pieces of his dream began to return to him, and he was torn between experiencing a pang of heartache for the distant memory and the realization that the warmth hadn’t been a dream after all. He tried to tug his hands away, but even he could tell that his attempt was half-hearted at best and Marco’s grip was stronger. Plus, he could risk waking the older man without meaning to.

With a sigh, Ace plopped his head back down to the pillow.

How long has it been since he last seen Luffy? Since he left Foosha in the dead of night, promising him to meet again in the sea as pirates? The last time he had this sort of dream, any dream involving him was the night before it, when the two of them was curled around each other, Luffy trying his best not to revert back to his crybaby habit, and Ace clutching the only brother he had left, one that he will soon have to leave behind to realize their dream. 

He tried to tug his hand free again, but to no avail. Marco’s snore stuttered, and Ace thought he was finally awake before it resumed. Again, he sighed. His tattoo had been the only reminder, something that he would gaze upon in time of doubt and loss of what to do, but even that he found he had done less and less these days. This dream had caught him off guard, and there is a pang on his chest when he realized that he actually missed it, bleak and sorrowful as it was.

And then, there’s the fact that the dream never quite ended like that.

Ace gazed back down to the head resting on his chest, to the crown of the softly tussled blonde locks tickling his skin. A small smile graced his lips, and a giggle nearly escaped him when Marco let out a particularly loud snore, one that could probably rival the machines down in the engine room. He always thought of the older as a graceful sleeper, and probably someone that usually sleeps with one eye open. Right now, Ace has squirmed to the best of his ability, and he has yet to wake up. Instead, he only shifted a little, causing his hold on Ace’s left hand to slacken a little. 

With another snore, he turned his head, and instead of a half-headful of hair, Ace was presented with the sight of Marco’s sleeping face, one side of his cheek squished against Ace’s abs, with mouth half opened and emitting all sorts of rumbling noise that would make the wildlife back home proud. Ace stifled another giggle, pressing his lips together. He raised his now free hand, and tangled them amongst the tangle of blonde hair on top of his stomach. They were coarse, as expected from one who spent their life in the sea - and didn’t pay special attention to their appearance like Izou - and thicker than Ace thought it would be, winding plentifully between his fingers. He felt Marco leaning to his touch, but dismissed it as him just shifting again in his sleep.

A brush or two - or ten - later, the dark haired youth laid his head back down to his pillow, staring up to the ceiling, “What am i doing?” he whispered to himself, before looking back down to the head on his chest, “Why are you even here?”

Marco kept sleeping.

“How are you always there, always watching,” he caressed through the tresses of gold again, and tugged slightly. The blonde snorted, but did nothing else, “Always know that… i needed someone to be there?”

His reply was another snore, low and steady.

Again, Ace sighed, and closed his eyes. 

A few more minutes of sleep never hurts anyone.

When Ace opened his eyes again, the ray of light on the ceiling was much larger and brighter, and coincidentally, he felt famished. His stomach decided to give him the alert, growling and rumbling.

Immediately, the weight on his stomach disappeared, and on the chair was now a confused and startled Marco, looking wildly around his room with one eye half open and the other even less opened, gasping out, “Wha—Where— Earthquake? Pops— Attack—Ace!”

“What?”

Blue orbs snapped to his direction, barely alert but at least seems to be able to register that he is indeed there. Marco blinked, and right at that moment, Ace’s stomach decided to make itself known once more, gurgling and thundering in that brief moment of silence. The blonde turned his gaze to his pillow for the night as Ace placed his hand right on top of it, blinking harder.

When he stayed in that position for several more seconds, Ace began to feel guilty. Seems like aside from being a heavy sleeper, Marco wasn’t someone whose entire senses gathered as soon as soon as his consciousness returned to him, “Sorry,”

“Wha— No, no, i was, i thought,” the older man never finished his sentence, just gave out a large sigh, rubbing a hand across his face, stopping just above his jaw. Then he suddenly snapped his head forward, “Shit, i didn’t mean to fell asleep, much less on you, yoi,”

“No, it’s fine,” the younger assured, pushing himself up to a sitting position, “Sorry for the rude awakening,” he chuckled sheepishly, placing a hand on his gurgling stomach. Marco snorted in return, but there’s a small smile blooming on his lips, so Ace counted that as a win.

Yet despite the obvious next step to take now that they’re both awake, nobody moved once their laughter died down. Perhaps it is that the situation at hand was only now dawning to them, or because Ace realized that his and Marco’s hand was still intertwined, “Uh,” he started, unsure of what to say, and uncertain if he should warn the older about this predicament or not. 

But he didn’t need to say anything, because Marco extracted his hand with a panicked yank, stammering, “S-sorry. It was— I can explain,” he said nervously, cheeks red to the tip of his ears. It was rather endearing, in Ace’s opinion, to know that he can be so unguarded early in the morning, “You were— you were dreaming. Talking, nightmare, i think. That is,” he took a deep breath, “You were talking in your sleep, and you look like you were having a bad dream,” with his now free hand, the blonde gestured, twisting his hand by his wrist, “Calling this name, over and over,”

Ace pursed his lips, “Sabo?”

“Yeah, that,” Marco nodded, shifting his gaze someplace else, “You sounded… sad. Anguished, even,”

Ace could only nod, “I haven’t had that dream for a long time,” he said with a wry smile, and unconsciously, he began to curl into himself, knees pressed against his chest and one arm pressed against the tattoo on his arm and grasping onto the skin and muscle. He didn’t have to look anymore to know that he had it exactly on the mark of Sabo’s jolly roger, “I missed it, even if it’s only because i can see him again,”

Admitting that was painful, almost as painful as the first time he learned of Sabo’s untimely demise. Ace gazed to his side, and accidentally caught the crestfallen expression on the older’s face as he stared upon the tattoo hidden behind his hand. The blonde let out a soft ‘oh’, before he smiled sardonically, “So there is a meaning behind that tattoo,”

“Don’t tell me you also thought it was a misspelling?” The dark haired male laughed drily, unsure of what to think about the bitter tone in Marco’s voice. 

“I wasn’t gonna ask, yoi,”

Ace scoffed in good nature, rolling his eyes as he smiled. The smile slowly faded, as he sighed weakly, “I think the fruit’s effect hasn’t ended yet,”

To this, any traces of other expression other than pure concentration vanished from Marco’s face, “How’d you know?”

Because it didn’t even enter Ace’s mind before, until he realized, “This was the first time i told anyone about him and my dream,” He had never even told Luffy about it, even if the younger did once commented that he talks in his sleep sometimes, a lot more after their brother passed. It was the only explanation that comes to his mind, and yet, something felt off.

Yet, unlike the forced and strained sensation he had felt for the last 2 days since he was inflicted by the Truth-Truth Fruit, this time it felt so natural to let it unload to Marco.

He was nearly caught off guard by the pained look on the blonde’s face, purposefully looking away from him as he said, “I won’t tell anyone, yoi,”

“I didn’t think you would,” Ace told him truthfully. 

It was meant to be a reassurance. Marco’s expression remained heavy with guilt and something else Ace couldn’t name, so he didn’t think it worked.

There’s an urge inside of Ace right at that moment, to wipe that look of the older’s face because he despised it. Before he realized it he had uncoiled from his curled position on the bed, leaning his upper body forward and focusing his weight on his arms and on the bed. The movement caught Marco’s eyes, making him turn, and in a second their eyes met, dark grey to sky blue, ensnared to each other.

“Ace,” Marco whispered, just a single call of his name that sent shiver down the younger’s spine. They’re close now, close enough that Ace could see the detail of the red indent on Marco’s cheek, the little dark specks on his blue orbs. He swallowed audibly, unsure as to why his mouth felt so dry. Ace leaned over even further, and he felt a skip on his chest the moment he realized that Marco was leaning forward as well, the gap between them slowly disappearing.

Slowly, almost reflexively, Ace let his eyes flutter close.

“Gooooood mornii— Whoa, yo, ho ho ho, hoo mama, excuuuse me, boys,”

“Thatch! What the fuc—Fuck! Shit! Ace!“

The sudden bang from the door being slammed open and Marco swirling away startled Ace to loosing his balance, arms slipping off from the bed. With a squeak, he slipped and fell down, chest bumping against the edge of the bed and landing jaw first on Marco’s - really, really hard - knee. His teeth clicking loudly and the taste that he know for sure to be blood was starting to flood inside of his mouth at the same time as tears pooled on the corner of his eyes. 

A pair of strong arm pulled him up, and Ace immediately cupped both his jaw and mouth with both of his own, feeling thick liquid drooling out from his lips and to his fingers, “Shit, Ace! Are you alright?!”

“Nuu,” he blubbered out, speech slurred, and as it turns out opening his mouth was a big mistake considering that the thick coppery liquid began to spill even more. Even worse, his tongue tingled, obviously the fruit at work, and the combination between it and the pain was not pleasant in any way, “Ith huurt,”

From the doorway, Thatch roared in laughter, though his words was laced in worry and guilt, “I’m so sorry, Ace, but holy shit—“

“Thatch, stop laugh and get the fucking nurse before i punt you all the way to Paradise!”

Nurse Cotton gave Ace the clean bill of health after a confirming that no, despite Ace’s worry, he had not bitten his tongue off, and yes, that salve tasted and smelled worse than the mink tribe after a rainy day, but he had to keep on applying it the whole day if he wanted to get better. Also, he should put it on his lips because that wound looks bad and please refrain from licking any lollipops in the near future, will you?

Ace didn’t get what she meant by the last one - he liked to eat, but he doesn’t really like sweets - and why she said it with that saucy wink that made all the other nurses giggle, but it didn’t matter because Thatch was waiting for him outside of the infirmary instead of Marco. His mood immediately plummeted down to his feet.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, it was an accident!”

“It huurts,” his slurred - he can actually talk normally, but Ace found that doing so means he will reflexively swallow some of the disgusting salve - glaring menacingly to the cook, “And you laughed at me,”

“I said i’m sorry!”

The young commander huffed, thrusting the salve into his pocket, “Where is Marco, anyway? He left after i went to the infirmary,”

“You’ve seen him this morning, are you guys seriously that attached to the hips?” Thatch sighed dramatically, pressing his palm to his forehead, “Eh, it was the reason why i came in to his room. Pops wanted to see him,”

So he’s in Pops’ room then, “Cool. I’ll meet you later in the dining area,”

“Woah, you’re not gonna eat first?!” 

“I want to, but not now,” Again, his tongue tingled, and Ace grimaced when it combined together with the dull throbbing of his injury, “I need to talk to him first,”

Thatch seems shocked by his answer, jaw dropping down and brows high in disbelief, “And whatever that is is more important than food?!”

“Kind of!” Again, the fruit made its effect known, but it didn’t bother him as much as he began to speed walk away to the direction of the Captain’s quarters. 

Yeah, it surprised him too but Ace figured it sounds about right; right now, for him, figuring out what the hell happened before Thatch barged in was much more important than filling out his already protesting stomach.

The entrance to Whitebeard’s quarter was easily the most distinguishable door in all of Moby Dick, due to the size of the door and the occasional rumbling that one can feel just by approaching it. Even feet away, Ace can hear their father’s voice behind the thick wood walls, and while that was nothing unusual, he was rather surprised to notice that he can hear Marco’s too.

The door was properly closed, but standing right in front of it, Ace can hear bits and pieces of what’s being said inside.

“—no right to meddle in my business!”

“I’m not meddling in anything,” comes Whitebeard’s reply, thundering and shaking the floor underneath Ace’s feet, “But you have to realize Marco, that what you’re doing is foolish. Not to mention unfair to young Ace,”

That caught Ace’s attention. Why are they talking about him?

“How am i being unfair to him!? He had enough on his plate right now, i don’t need to add to that, yoi. Damnit, Pops, all i’m trying to do is to help him!”

“And you?” Came Whitebeard’s reply, voice stern and scolding, “What about you? Who is going to help you?”

For a moment, there’s only silence. When Marco next spoke, Ace could barely catch it, “I don’t need any help. I knew it was doomed from the start. But this isn’t about me, it’s about him,” Marco’s voice began to pick up in volume, and if Ace wasn’t mistaken, it was accompanied by footfalls. He’s coming closer to the door, “You told me to watch over him, and i’m doing exactly that. Why can’t you just leave it at that?”

“And what of the others?” the Captain spoke again, “You can’t tell me you were just thinking about him when you let the current situation continue—“

“I’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it! Right now that’s not even my topmost priority,”

As Whitebeard speak, the ground began to shook once more, almost making Ace lost his balance. That, combined with the increasingly closer footsteps, the freckled male quickly jumps to the side, pressing his back against the walls next to Whitebeard’s door. There’s clear tension in the booming voice, so different than the usual calm and collected Pops,“Your topmost priority will be your own undoing, Marco,” he said, in a thunderous voice, “You always forget that just because you can regenerate and heal every wound, doesn’t mean that you heal all of your pain,”

Silence ensues. Ace frowned, muling over the meaning of Whitebeard’s words.

When Marco spoke, Ace could tell that he was directly behind the door. His voice was low, biting and full of spite, “Exactly, yoi. So with all due respect, father, i don’t need you to remind me of it,”

Ace jumped when the door was slammed open, and Marco came storming out, face twisted in anger and jaw tight. He didn’t even seems to notice that Ace was there, his entire gait stiff until he disappeared from view. Ace had never seen him so pissed off, and he never expected that anger to be aimed at Pops, the man he always spoke so highly of, the man they all claimed their loyalty to, of all people.

Then, as the shock was still in his system, it was added by a low, rumbling voice that said, “Ace, why don’t you come in, son?”

Almost guiltily, Ace peeked from his hiding place into Whitebeard’s room. The old captain looks tired and worn, but the smile he gave Ace was as warm as ever, “Eavesdropping is not a very good habit to get into, my boy,”

“Sorry,” he murmured, stepping into the large room. In front of the large man’s equally large chair was a smaller one, where he figured Marco sat before, and in between them was a table littered with maps and other kinds of documents. With one large hand, Whitebeard pulled the seat back and lifted the table away as if it weighted nothing. It was an invitation for Ace to stay and sit, he realized, and quickly, he made his way over.

The old man sighed, “I’m sorry you have to hear all of that,” he looked down with a knowing look, “Even if it seems that you missed out on all of the fun part, just the blowout of it,”

“Yeah, about that,” Ace gazed at the door, getting an irrational fear that Marco might somehow return and saw him in here before he continued, “I… didn’t know he could talk to you like that,”

Whitebeard only laughed, amused, jolly even, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. Everyone seems to think that he’s my most obedient son,” the old man chuckled, like the notion amused him somehow, “But out of all of my sons and daughters, he was probably the most stubborn one. Yes, even including you. You think disagreements like this is new to us? You should’ve seen him when he was about your age,” 

Ace didn’t know which part was harder to believe; the part that Marco was ever a rebellious child, or the fact that he had been a child at all. It always felt like he’s always been that old.

In front of him, the captain suddenly laughed again, even louder this time that Ace’s seat clattered. Ace closed his mouth, barely aware that it was open in the first place, and realized he had said that out loud, “Ah yes, he warned me this will happen,” he chuckled lowly. When he fell silent, his expression was solemn, and the way he looked at Ace made the young man sat up straight. The man leaned forward on his seat, gazing down at Ace, “Tell me, Ace, do you care for my boy?”

As expected, tickling sensation roamed his tongue, and when the reply was pulled out of him, Ace wasn’t even surprised by the answer, “Yes,”

What he didn’t expect was the long, hard look Whitebeard gave him, as if contemplating something else behind his simple answer. Ace wanted to squirm, wanted to look away from the scrutiny, but he couldn’t. He felt as if he had given the wrong answer, that the fruit had made him give the wrong answer, and Whitebeard had been expecting something else.

He didn’t understand; shouldn’t it be a good thing that he does care for his brothers?

But at long last, the giant man let out a sigh and leaned back against his chair, reaching to his side for a well hidden tankard, “Forgive me for that, dear boy, that was wrong of me to take advantage of your situation,”

Ace frowned, not quite understanding what the captain meant until it dawn on him, “He told you about the Devil Fruit i’m affected with,”

“He asked me to keep an eye on you,” Whitebeard explained, “Seeing that he won’t be able to for a while,”

The young man stared up at him, and waited as his captain took a swig of his drink, “I’m sending him on a mission. He will be leaving in an hour,”

He found him by the bow of Moby Dick, speaking to someone Ace only mildly recognize as one of the navigators under Marco’s command. They’re both peering over a map, the commander clutching a small travel bag in one of his hand. As soon as Ace approached, the navigator excused himself - though not before giving him a sympathetic smile - taking the map along with him.

“He told you about my mission then,” Marco said to him in lieu of a greeting, still facing away from him and to the distance. As far as eyes can see there was nothing but calm blue seas and the stormy greying sky, testament to the uncertain weather of the New World, “As much as i wanted to, yoi, i could never turn down a mission. It’s rather vital to Moby’s next destination, after all,”

Approaching, Ace gave a fond smile, “It’s only for a day. And like i keep on saying and you conveniently never wanted to hear, i can take care of myself,”

“Not like this, you can’t,” the frown on Marco’s face, one that Ace now only caught once he was side by side with the man, was as gloomy as the sky above, “And it won’t even be a day. I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, no later, yoi,”

Despite the will to protest, Ace only nodded. He knows that he was a little worried, and if he opened his mouth right now, he’ll probably let it spill. He didn’t need to add to Marco’s concern.

“Ace,” at the sound of his name, the freckled youth turned, and saw that the older man was looking down at him, “I… whatever it is that you managed to overhear at Pops’ room, i want you to forget it. Pops is a worrywart, in case you haven’t figure it out yet, and he means well, but he often forgot that some things are just out of his control,”

Ace probably should mention that he barely heard anything, never mind making of what he did hear. He decided against that, giving Marco a lopsided, smug smile, “And who are you to be calling anyone a worrywart, hypocrite?”

Marco huffed, but there’s a small smile on his face, finding humour in Ace’s words.

The breeze around them began to pick up, changing slowly into a strong wind. With a puff of blue fire, where once was Marco was now a phoenix, majestic wings spread out and ringed tail quivering right behind him. With a mighty flap, he was airborne, bag clutched between his talon.

“Marco,” Ace calls out again, voice nearly drowned by the wind, “This morning, what happened?”

The bird gave him a backward glance, “A lapse of judgement,” he told him, before flying even higher. Soon, Marco was nothing but a speck of blue and yellow, drifting and flying away in the steadily darkening sky.

As the heavens open and water began to pour down on top of Moby and the surrounding water, Ace watched him leave, an unsettling feeling of both confusion and disappointment festering in his core.

Chapter Text

Throat clear, and a falsetto, “Oh my love, when will you return into my embrace?”

An even higher falsetto continues, “The world seems bleak without you here, by my side, where no one can replace,” 

A small gleeful giggling turned into an even further exaggerated high pitched voice, “Return to me! For only a while we are apart, but i already fear i may forget your face!”

There’s a pause, hidden underneath juvenile snickering, and the last person in the group was nudged by sharp elbows, “Keep it going!”

“Uh,” another pause, followed by a defeated sigh, “I can’t think of other words that rhymes with Ace,”

The very moment Jozu stepped inside of the dining area to see Haruta, Thatch, Izou and Namur huddled together in a conspiratorial manner amongst a sizeable amount of onlookers, he knew the ship is in a dire situation. Not from the threat of mutiny - because he liked to believe that everyone around him would sooner take their own head off than go against Pops - but for the threat of losing the existing peace and quiet. 

To make sure it won’t happen, he stepped quietly behind them and asked, “What are you doing?”

On the very left, Haruta let out a startled squeak and would’ve fallen down on his behind if Jozu hadn’t been quick enough to catch him. Next to him, Thatch gazed up to his fellow commander sheepishly and Izou still in the middle of scolding Namur about breaking the flow of their joke.

Thatch stood up abruptly to stand on his side, looping one arm around his back - and only ending around his spine - while grinning, “We, my dear friend,” he began, making a flourish hand gesture towards a vague direction, “are bird watching,”

From his seat and once again sitting up properly, Haruta snickered, “Love-bird watching,” 

“Does the pun ‘lovebird’ still works if the person who made up the bird part of that pun is not around?”

“My lovebird pun will always work, Namur, stop being a party pooper!”

“I’m just saying—!“

“Anyway,” In between the two younger pirates, Izou shook his head in exasperation, “We’re making fun of Ace. Wanna join in?”

The Paramecia user glanced up to where they had been staring, precisely the direction Thatch was still pointing towards. Sure enough, he found Ace sitting on the corner of the table all by himself, a mountain of food in front of him. It was a usual sight in the short of a year he had been here, the only difference being that this time around, there was no crowd of people around him, and the mountain of food remained untouched.

(Also, this sight lacked a hovering blonde man clad in purple and blue somewhere in the background, putting so much effort into making sure nobody noticed what he was doing. It worked, but only to the person he was hovering around, and not much on anyone else)

“And what exactly has he done to warrant being made fun of by horrible poems?” It doesn’t look like Ace was even aware that he was the topic of conversation of the group just a few feet away from him. In the few seconds that Jozu kept his eyes on the raven, silently sitting behind the mountain of food that he barely even seem to notice, let alone touch or consume. It was honestly quite a bizarre sight coming from someone who was known to be a ravenous eater.

In fact, he seems to be focusing his entire attention on something hidden behind the mound of food, though Jozu couldn’t for the life of him get a good look.

Izou scoffed, and a light smack from a paper fan brought Jozu’s attention to him, “First of all, how dare you call my poems horrible. I’ll have you know that i am a proper artist,” by his own admission, surely, because the entirety of the ship has seen Izou’s work of art in various forms and not even Pops seems to be able to generate something good to say about any of them, “And well, just see for yourself,”

Right on cue, as soon as Izou finished speaking, Ace lifted the item that he had been staring, which Jozu could now see was a thick tome of sorts. The title, half obstructed by the firestarter’s hand revealed that it was an encyclopaedia for all sorts of Devil Fruit, a rare book possessed only by a small amount of people in the world and only one person in this entire ship own. Jozu watched as Ace sighed heftily and laid his head down on top of the book in a manner that could only be described as adorably upset.

“Ah,” was all he could say, as another information from earlier that day entered his mind, an official business that suddenly felt a lot less formal when placed in this setting, “Marco left today to scout ahead, didn’t he?”

Next to him, Thatch let out an exaggerated sigh, “Not even a full day and they’re already acting like this. I feel like i’m living as a side character in a modern age love story,”

Despite not wanting to stoop to these nosy people’s level, Jozu has to agree with Thatch. He had been on the platform overlooking the deck earlier, waiting for Ballen, the navigator placed in charge in Marco’s absence to finish his discussion with the Zoan user when he caught sight of Ace approaching. Even after the navigator left, a sense of curiousity kept Jozu in that secluded spot, watching the quiet yet seemingly comfortable conversation between Marco and Ace. 

He left as soon as Marco went airborne, but he stayed long enough to catch Ace shouting something at the man and the devastated look on his face afterwards.

Looking at Ace again, he supposed this is the aftermath of that interaction.

Haruta and Namur’s bickering attracted plenty of attention, added with Thatch fuelling the fire and Izou trying and filing to diffuse the situation. Jozu used this opportunity to slip away - as much as a man of his build can, but Haruta can screech loud enough to make sure no one pay him any mind - and walked over to where Ace sat.

Even as he sat down and felt the long bench creaking down under his weight, Ace didn’t even look up to see him. The book underneath him was open on a certain page, and from what little Jozu could see, the pages were filled with plenty of ink strokes. He peer down in curiosity, and almost widened his eyes when he recognize the pattern created by those ink, “Those symbols…,”

It was only quick reflex that prevented Ace from hitting his jaw - and possibly breaking his skull - but he hardly seems to notice the close brush, staring up at Jozu with wide eyes, “You know them?!”

With dark hair and appendage out of the way, he is sure that yes, he does recognize them, “Yeah, of course i do,” he hasn’t seen them in years, but there is no mistaking what they are, “It’s Marco’s native language. He taught only a handful of us during the crew’s early years to use it as a secret code and confidentiality purposes,”

“I knew it,” Ace murmured, glancing down to the book before raising it up, nearly shoving the open page to Jozu’s face, “So, you can read them then? Can you tell me what he’s written?”

There’s urgency both in Ace’s tone and the way his arms shook from how tightly he was holding the book. From the corner of his eyes, the large Devil Fruit user can see that his outburst had attracted some attention, inviting who he would guess to be the quartet from earlier to come closer. Jozu squinted, trying to make sense of the shaky words that he wasn’t sure he still remembered.

The page that was opened contained information of a Paramecia fruit, he noticed, called as Truth-Truth Fruit by the header, which effect he could only guess from the name. The question of why would Marco write on the margin of one of his beloved books seems to grow insignificant the more he decipher the long forgotten symbols. 

In the 20 years Jozu knew him, Marco’s handwriting for Common language was always crisp and blocky, forming large clear words that leaves no room for misinterpretation. For documents and paperworks, things that other people would have to see and Pops would have to read, as if deliberately accomodating to all sorts of reader. 

It was done on purpose, he knew, because every other time, his writing was cursive and sharp, looking more like a chain of barbs than actual letters. Even the language used was less formal, perhaps only because it was something he himself will read. They’re curt and precise, contrasting with the formal tone all over the ship’s notice board.

But the way he wrote in his own language, it was like a painting. Unusual symbols and marks covered the margin of the Devil Fruit dictionary, so far different and foreign that Jozu knew he won’t be able to attain the same skill even for a lifetime. They had the same characteristic as Marco’s personal handwriting; informal and in a rush, but some of the words were larger than others, almost like it was a highlight of sorts.

But that’s not what caught the man’s attention. It was the way these symbols were written that intrigued him.

Thatch and co’s arrival stolen Ace’s attention from him with endless teasing - though Ace seems particularly clueless to everything they were saying. Jozu took the book away from him with little difficulty, and flipped from page to page and finding that the chaotic mess of words were only contain in certain pages . Most of them were notes, he recognized with a hint of nostalgia, similar to the ones he remembered from far back, and yet, it was far different.

Just from everything on this single page, all of Marco’s handwriting felt like it has taken two different and distinct path: some were written in thin ink or even hardly there, as if he had been distracted when he wrote it down, and some were bold with splotchy edges, as if Marco had been pressing his quill too hard on the paper. Frustration then, maybe even anger.

[not an answer]

[not an answer]

[i need an ANSWER]

[useless information]

(On the very bottom of that abused page, there’s a small, almost hidden writing, the first  few words slashed through with thick ink until halfway as if it was a mistaken writing that in the end, Marco didn’t want to get rid of.

In the right light, he caught the entire sentence, [little fire is this how much you suffer])

The more he turn each page, the more the commander found that despite retaining the same characteristic, the words began to gain their own emotions. Excitement, determination…

[THIS IS IT]

[NOTE - SUMMARIZE THIS ENTIRE 3 PARAGRAPHS]

[NOTE - FIND REFERENCES MENTIONED!!!]

[SPECULATIONS OF THE DEVIL FRUIT - FIND THIS BOOK IN THE LIBRARY]

[ITS NOT PERMANENT THANK FUCK] [EVEN IF ITS SPECULATION I’LL TAKE THAT CHANCE]

…Affection…

[i wish you don’t have to play with chances and uncertainty like this little fire]

[stupid] [mark this down, might be useful in the future for this sort of situation]

[hopefully it wont be him again]

[i’ll make sure of it]

…and something else he couldn’t decipher, something that seems out of place, like a downer end to these note Marco probably didn’t mean for anyone else but his eyes to see. He probably didn’t even mean to write them down, not with how sloppy they are, almost indistinguishable from all the other times Jozu had seen these symbols. 

Almost like pain, uncertainty…

[what if i can’t?]

[reckless] [stubborn]

[what if all of this was for naught?]

[what if i can’t keep my promise]

[what if he’s stuck like that]

..and in the end, just plain sadness. Written in wobbly, unsure stroke.

[why does he keep calling that name?]

(There’s a large ink splotch right underneath that line, as if done to hastily cover whatever it was written there. It did a good job on its own, but he could see that the first letter was not written in the same language, seeing that the beginning might be an ’S’ in Common language)

An arm hooked itself around his shoulder, again, barely making it all the way through. A glance to his side revealed to Jozu that it was Thatch, with Vista right behind him. There’s a couple more commander and ship crew gathered around them, each of them having their fun teasing Ace over his supposed lovesick behaviour. The freckled young man, on his part, kept asking what they’re talking about and was oddly sincere in his admitting that he missed Marco, even though he looked horrified by his own admission.

He looked painfully young with those deep flush on his cheeks, and Jozu could somewhat relate to Marco’s declaration of protection within the margins on this book.

Though the question is, what exactly did he mean by that?

“What are those? Words?” Thatch questioned, shoving his head forward. His pompadour droop a little to cover some of Jozu’s view of the book, and he nonchalantly pushed the carefully primped ‘do away. The cook let out an outraged yell, quickly moving away, while Vista moved in to the space he vacated.

Jozu saw a flair of recognition in the swordsman’s eyes, “Well now,” he hummed with the same level of bemusement in his voice as his fellow commander felt a moment ago, “Marco’s code. It’s been a while since i’ve seen them,”

These symbols, their crew’s code, was a convenient system to keep as they keep growing in number and gaining the attention of Marines and fellow pirates alike. Sensitive informations and locations were kept away with this system, a dead language from an island long destroyed and a tribe long slaughtered, leaving only a single survivor. 

(Or so the story goes around their crew at the time. He knows a lot more about it, because he was told from the source himself, as the second and probably last person to know this aside from Pops. The first island Pops does not show benevolence or offer protection towards, a tribe who tortured a child for something he could not help, unable to die no matter how much he wanted to until a curious pirate came snooping around a suspicious village and took him away for a life worth living.

As he recall this, he gazed to a flustered figure in the middle of a slowly growing crowd, and wondered if one day, there will be a third person to know that tragic story.)

Of course, it was also a system long forgotten, after they discovered that no matter how secluded or rare a language can be, there will always be someone out there who can read them. The code was long forgotten, but once or twice, he would catch Marco muttering it to himself. 

But still…

“So what does it say?” Ace’s voice broke through, and Jozu looked up to see that he, as well as everyone around him has turned their focus to Jozu. It was probably Thatch’s yell from earlier that reminded Ace of his earlier concern, “Jozu?”

Jozu stared at him for a while, considering. While everyone else held a healthy amount of curiousity in their eyes, Ace was nearly desperate for a reply. He looked back down to the book, to the pages he had flicked one by one, “Why do you need to know?”

With how close they are sitting, despite the crowd, the older man caught the way the younger’s breath hitched. Ace looked hesitant, and when he spoke, there’s great reluctance on his face that doesn’t match the level of honesty in his words, “Because I don’t get him at all. I don’t understand what’s happening between us, and i want to know. I want to know why he’s trying so hard, i want to know why he looked sad this morning, why he stayed and,”  the raven took a deep breath, wringing his hand nervously, “and i want to know why it hurts when he left and told me that it was all a mistake,”

Silence descended amongst them, and Jozu finally noticed how suffocating the room felt. Every eyes were on Ace; some pitying, some sympathetic, and plenty of others, like Haruta, let out a shocked gasp, muttering ‘what, no’ in a disbelieving tone under his breath. Jozu was tempted to verbally agree.

Did whatever he witnessed earlier on the deck was not a loving goodbye as he had guessed, but a break up?

“But why?!” Izou screamed in anguish, as if it was his relationship that was just recently terminated, “You— He— Why?!”

“I don’t know!” Ace replied with a shook of his head - and probably part startled judging from the cautious way he’s looking at Izou, “He just said that it was all ‘a lapse of judgement’. I don’t—“

“He said what?!” the screech that came from Izou was nearly inhumane, as well as the sneer across his face so no one stopped the kimono-clad man as he stood up and stand much too close to Ace for comfort, gripping on to the poor lad’s naked shoulders. He kept screaming, even as the poor young man stammered out his previous reply like a broken and very scared Den-Den Mushi, “That’s it! The moment that absolutely idiotic, moron, birdbrain, pineapple head, chicken wuzz—“

“N-now, now, Izou—“

“Don’t you ‘now-now’ me, Thatch, and i swear if you don’t make our esteemed First Division Commander’s tail dinner the moment he comes back here, then i will!” 

Whatever else threat Izou spouted to a bewildered Thatch was mostly drowned by the increasing murmurs around them. Commander and crew mates alike huddled amongst themselves with clicking tongues and disapproving head shakes. 

“Did my ear cover deceive me or something? Hey Jiru, he did not just say that Marco broke it off with him,”

“Nope, he did, Curiel, he did,” 

“Man, to think that Commander Marco…,”

“Why would he do that? I thought… i thought they’re happy together…,”

“So they’re… not together anymore?”

“Hmph, if i snagged someone like Commander Ace, i would’ve locked him up tighter than Impel Down, in a place no one can find,”

“Dude, Teach, that’s just wrong. And creepy. He’s right there,” 

No, he’s not, Jozu thought to himself, turning his attention away from the whispering behind him to catch Ace slinking away unnoticed during the commotion. No one noticed even after he exited the dining room, and after a quick glance to his surrounding, he followed suit, Marco’s book held tightly in one hand.

When Jozu finally found him, Ace leaning against the railing overlooking the deck, just outside of the dining area’s exit. Whitebeard’s mark over sculpted back moved up and down slowly, as audible pants and low murmurs could be heard coming from the man it was etched on.

“—and he just left,” Ace let out a gasp, burying his face between his crossed arms over the wooden rails. He’s shaking slightly, Jozu can tell, and as he spoke, his breath hitched every now and then, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, it’s getting worse. I can’t stop it anymore. If they keep asking question, if this continues on, i won’t be able to stop talking, and then the fruit…it’ll…everything will…,”

Jozu gave the book in his hand a glance, remembering the brief snippets from the book passage from when he was silently deciphering Marco’s handwriting. A fruit that forces someone to tell the truth. It was rather odd that he would be writing only confined in one chapter, even odder still that he chose to write on a book at all. But between Marco’s words and Ace’s babbles, Jozu could only pull one conclusion.

“Ace,” 

The raven haired male actually jumped, jittery and jumpy like a little cornered baby Lapin, “Jozu. You… followed me outside,”

“So i did,” he replied, approaching even closer and taking the spot right next to Ace, leaving enough space between them to make sure the younger won’t get spooked even further. It’s odd to behave around Ace, perhaps someone who proved himself to be one of the more approachable and friendly of his nakamas, like this.

Ace stared at him warily for a moment, before he straightened his posture and looked away, “Did you… read what’s written on that book?”

The larger man nodded, “I did. Both Marco’s writing, and what’s entailed in the chapter itself,”

No reply. From the corner of his eyes, Jozu can see Ace biting his lips nervously, “Ace, are you under the influence of a Devil Fruit?”

“Yes,” it was said in resignation, and from what he gathered, not entirely within Ace’s control, “The pirate captain from a few days back was the user, and somehow, the effect lasted this long. Now, i won’t be able to tell a lie, have to answer all sorts of question truthfully, and as of the late, even blurted out my thoughts no matter what it may be,”

“That sounds… inconvenient,”

Ace groaned, “Tell me about it. Marco’s been doing everything he can to look for a way to end it, and help me through it,”

“How so?”

Briefly, there’s an alarmed look on Ace’s face, and it took Jozu a second to realize what he had done wrong, “Oh shit, sorry—“

“He’s been doing research night after night, even making a report. He fends off everyone getting too close, observing me even though he’s acting like he isn’t, but i notice him always nearby, and has taken measures to make sure i won’t accidentally spill unwanted information to everyone,”

Jozu blinked, watching as Ace panted and turned slightly red. Well, that was quite intense. 

He cleared his throat as awkward silence descend between them, “Sorry. I’ll be more careful next time,”

“It’s okay,” the Logia user sighed, but this time, it was a lot less exhausted and a bit more amused, fond even, as a smile bloom on his face, “You know, this is the kind of thing he’s been trying to prevent for days now by sticking close. And it actually works pretty well that i’m starting to rely on him running interference for me. To think that before this, i more or less told him that i found his constant hovering annoying. Now i’m relying on it, and i missed it now that he’s away,” the smile was chased away by a surprised look and he groaned, “Y-you know i didn’t mean to say that, right?”

“Not out loud, you mean,” 

Another groan, “No, definitely not out loud,”

Jozu laughed, low under his breath. 

In show of good humour, Ace laughed along with him, though it barely lasted, and his laughter died a sad death in the form of a slowly forming frown, “I shouldn’t have asked you to read that. If he purposefully wrote it down in a language no one can understand, that means he really didn’t want anyone to know, right?” he sighed, glancing down to the book in Jozu’s hand, “That he really didn’t want me to know,”

The larger man kept quiet, placing the book between them, “Besides, what did i expect? That he’s going to use one of his precious books as a diary of sorts? It’s probably notes to himself or something,” Ace let out a self-deprecating chuckle, shaking his head and making dark strands flew in the soothing night wind, “I guess i was just hoping that, if Marco won’t say something, i can at least try to understand from someplace else, you know?” 

Thunder rolls on the distance, and if Jozu was a poetic man, he’d compare the rumble to the turmoil evident in Ace’s tone and expression. But he wasn’t, he left those sort of things to people like Vista or - to a lesser degree - Izou, and stay silent as Ace continued, “I feel like i… i just can’t pin him down sometimes. Like, what does he want from me? One minute, he’s everywhere i look, everywhere i went, following my every move that it’s almost suffocating, but if i ever mention that, he’s just.. gone. And that was before this whole truth telling fiasco happened,”

With a thud, Ace laid his entire weight on top of the railing, swaying slightly on his toe. His face was mostly covered from Jozu’s direction by his hair, though the larger man could see that he’s staring up to the dark and cloudy sky, almost lost in thought, “This fruit scares me the more i think about it. I’m scared of it getting out of control, and ended up making me confess something i really didn’t want anyone to know. Something big, something i can’t even face most of the time,” 

He fell silent, and again, glanced at Jozu, this time a lot more cautious, fearful even. His jaw muscle tightened, as if he was bracing himself to say something - or rather, being forced to say something. Jozu would’ve laughed at the unnecessary reaction, if he didn’t feel sad and rather disappointed. No matter how carefree Ace had become as of the late, there are moments when he seems guarded amongst them, and it reminded him that it wasn’t always like that. Little acts like this serves to tell him that their job to make him feel welcomed as one of them was not done, probably not for a while.

(Marco once let out a drunken tirade about it, sea stone bracelet gleaming on his wrist under the moonlight and a tankard filled again with another douse of strong drink. Ace had revealed his tattoo to them earlier that day, proudly showing to the world that he’s one of Whitebeard’s men. 

“I won’t question his loyalty to Pops,” the blonde had slurred out, eyes sharp despite the flush on his face and the way he stumbled a little on his feet standing still, “But he could give us the same amount of courtesy, you know? A kid that young shouldn’t be so full of distrust to everyone around him,”

And yet distrust and caution is a good quality to have as a pirate who wished to live long, as he should know best out of everyone. Jozu pointed this out, staring at Marco from over the rim of his own tankard,  and added, “Or is it that by everyone, you meant yourself?”

Marco never gave him an answer, but his silence, along with the way he shifted his gaze away from Jozu had been enough.

The rumour of a possible one-sided romance between the First Division Commander and the new Logia recruit started weeks after that exchange. Out of everyone on the ship, Jozu was proud to say he might be the only one who saw it coming)

He settled with a huff, crossing his arms across his chest, “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to ask what it is,” he told the younger resolutely, “No one will. Everyone here has their own skeletons in their closets, and if you don’t want to share, then no one will force you to. No matter what, you’re our brother first and foremost. No secret is going to change that,”

There’s doubt in the way Ace looked at him, but even the furrowed brows and hard lines could hardly stop the fond, even hopeful glint in his eyes. It was subtle, but it was enough to make him want to pat himself on the back. Obviously, Ace won’t go around spilling whatever this dark secret he may have any time soon, but Jozu at least knew he had said the right thing.

“You know,” the younger muttered after quite a while, “Marco said the same thing after he found out. It comforted me, reassure me, and the way he said, it made me feel weird. Not in a bad way, but, more like, it makes it me feel… fluttery. Like uh, what do you call it, butterflies trapped inside of my stomach kind of weird,” he paused, shaking his head rapidly, “Ugh, i can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. It sounded like something my caretaker back home would secretly read and denied reading, i hate this fruit so bad,”  

I don’t think that’s the fruit, buddy, Jozu wanted to say, but decided not to. The poor boy seems frustrated enough.

“It’s weird, because, hell, i went to Pops to tell him, and when he said more or less the same thing, i didn’t feel like this. I felt relieved, yeah, and i felt really, really grateful for him, but i didn’t feel anything like the way it did when Marco say that to me,”

And i am immensely grateful for that on Pops and Marco’s behalf, was what he wanted to say too, though he held himself back. The poor boy seems confused enough.

“I never felt this confused about anyone else before,“

“Seems to me that you need to stop trying to figure out about Marco, and start figuring out about yourself first,”

Ace faced with with furrowed brows, “Figure out… myself?”

“Yeah. If you leave it up to that guy, you’ll be our age before you get an honest word out of him,” he said with a light chuckle, “So why don’t you take the first step instead? Figure out what you truly felt and tell him, then maybe, you’d be able to continue on with this relationship of yours,”

In Jozu’s humble opinion, it was probably also easier that way. In the 2 decade that he has known Marco for, he knows that aside from the sea and sea stone, sorting out his feelings might be the man’s other weakness. He has a complex way of thinking, the balancing negative wave to Pops’ bright outlook, and though this is a good thing within the crew, it was less so when it comes to personal life.

It was also probably why this is the first time in 20 years he had ever seen him genuinely interested in someone.

Next to him, Ace’s eyes widened slightly, as he nearly exclaimed, “R-relationship?! W-what are you—“

The question was left hanging, and it was Jozu’s turn to be confused. It didn’t look like Ace was simply embarrassed by his implication, “Yeah, relationship. You know, Dating?” the more he continued, Jozu took slight amusement to the redness that began to creep up on Ace’s freckled cheeks, “Kissing? Uh, sex? Aren’t you two…?”

“N-no! Marco and i— No, what—What even gave you that idea?! We’re not dating!” he stammered, arms flailing as his face began to turn so unnaturally red that Jozu wondered if he’s going to pop anytime soon, “K-k-kiss and s-se— Is that what you were all talking about?! You thought we were dating?! Why the hell would you even think—“

“But you two kissed! During the truth or dare—“

“That’s because he was trying to protect me from spilling out my secret because of the Truth -Truth Fruit!”

Ace moaned painfully, burying his face while murmuring intelligibly to his hands. His flush had reached to the tip of his ears and even down his neck, fully looking like the embodiment of complete embarrassment. He doesn’t look like one of the most feared pirates on the seas like this, but more like a young, immature child that he is, still squirming and blushing at the mention of carnal pleasure and romance. 

One half of Jozu’s mind felt guilty for bringing this up, while the other half wished he had a Den-Den Mushi with him now to take a picture.If he give this precious image presented right before him to Marco, maybe the man will consider owing him for years, maybe even several lifetime.

Oh well, if he can’t get Marco’s undying loyalty, then at the very least, he can take his bet money back from Thatch.

When the younger finally fell silent, he slowly lowered his enough to reveal the top half of his face. There’s still some light dusting of healthy flush across his face, complimenting the freckles on his cheeks, and his eyes were watery and dazed. Jozu expected him to go to another embarrassed outburst, but the look on Ace’s face was contemplative, almost melancholic, even, “Ace?”

“This morning,” Ace mumbled, word almost muffled by the position of his hands, but Jozu can hear him all the same, “I think he was about to kiss me,” The tip of his fingers moved, tracing his lower lips slightly as he said it, like he was reminiscing whatever did happened this morning, “And i was going to let him,”

Jozu stared, and finally sighed, “He’ll be back tomorrow. I suggest the two of you have some good, long talk, and figure out just what it is you wanted. Lock him up and tie him up if you have to,”

Ace gave him a small smile, as well as a good natured snort, “You know, according to Marco, another thing that this Devil Fruit made me do, is make me admit some truths that even i couldn’t figure out about myself. It wasn’t pleasant at all, to be honest, but maybe, i can use it for something good for once,”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. If this fruit is still in effect until tomorrow, then instead of me chasing for an answer out of him, i’m going to have him force an answer out of me,”

Jozu widened his eyes at his fellow Commander, shocked by the brazen idea and the cheeky smile on his face, a complete contrast to the flustered mess that he was just a moment ago. Kids always had too much energy for him to keep up with, “Ace, is that really a good idea? This fruit seems like too much of a bad news to be used like that—“

“Yeah, and that’s why i’m going to make it useful for me for once,” the grin dimmed down into something almost shy, as the flush on his cheeks appeared once more, “Besides, he promised that no matter what i have to say, he’s going to be there. Even if he dodged my question a lot, i know that if there’s one thing i can rely on Marco for, is that he won’t break his promise,” 

This time, Jozu really wished he had a Den-Den Mushi in his hands to record this and show it to Marco. The amount of conviction and trust in Ace’s words made him realize that if Ace’s idea does not work, then friends for 20 years or not, he’s going to make sure Marco won’t let himself be the reason why the two of them can’t work out.

He glanced down to the Devil Fruit Dictionary still in between them, and smiled to himself. 

Tomorrow really can’t come any sooner.

But Marco never came back the next day. Or the day after that.

After the third day, First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Marco the Phoenix, was pronounced missing.

Chapter Text

Right now, Ace had 2 big problems, and he didn’t know which one he should be more concerned about.

For one, the Truth-Truth Fruit’s effect has yet to disappear. Worse yet, he found that he had been spilling unwarranted and unfiltered comments since yesterday, which means every little thing that he thought about will automatically be blurted out in public. Just yesterday, he made the mistake in saying that Haruta had been the one secretly drawing on Jiru’s lance, a secret that he held to himself for months now, and that all this time, he didn’t think that the lipstick shade Izou proudly said came from some high-end fashion brand actually suits him at all.

It had been juvenile examples, of course. But then as Jozu pulled him away to the safety of his own bedroom, stating that he’ll have to hide away until Izou wasn’t hunting down for his blood anymore, Ace commented that he’s fine with dying in a familiar place, stating he didn’t expect to live long anyway.

That had been too close, all too close to everything else he was still resisting in his mind, and it was a good thing that it was Jozu who was with him, who quickly shut him up by clasping his enormous hand in front of Ace’s mouth, effectively shutting him up, “I’m not going to ask what that was all about,” the older man said in a grave tone, “Because i know you didn’t say that willingly. But i swear to god Ace, Marco was right about you. You have too many issues, and once this is all settled, we are all going to work on that,”

In reply, Ace has screamed that he’s been like this for far too long to change, but Jozu’s hand made it nothing more than a muffled mumbling. Maybe it was all for the best.

So this is where he had been ever since, trapped inside of his bedroom. Jozu had locked the door from the outside, claiming that it was all for his own good, and Ace couldn’t find it in himself to argue. There’s not much to say in the solitary of his own quarters, and when he did, there’s no one to actually listen to him.

And then there’s problem number two; Marco is still missing.

Ace wrung his hands harder in front of his shaking lips, failing to take in a deep breath and turning it into several shallow breaths instead. There’s a hard constraint on his chest, a heavy pressure that seems to build up the longer he’s locked in this room, curling into himself while lying down the best position to keep from feeling like he’s going to combust any time soon. He learned that it was worry and anxiety, the same thing he felt that fateful game night, but it was much more painful this time, turning it to a physical pain instead of the weight in his chest.

Remembering that night, every time he looked up, he half expected to see calm blue eyes looking at him, reminding him to breath. 

It’s not there, it won’t be there until they find him.

Ace knows how pathetic he looked, feeling cold sweat dotting his back and forehead, and panting through the difficulty to breathe. Was he worried for himself? For Marco? He can’t tell anymore, but it’s unbearable. His head hurts and his mouth is tired from unexpectedly rambling to himself but he had long since stop trying to control it. It’s easier to let himself talk and talk and talk about every sensation he felt and everything that crosses his mind, because his thoughts won’t shut up, and because of it, so does his tongue.

A light knock on the door made him let out a startled gasp. Who was that?

“It’s just me,” Rakuyo’s muffled voice flitted through from behind the door, “I brought you some food,”

The door creaked open, and at the first face Rakuyo pulled when he saw his appearance, Ace felt like shrinking. He knew he looked pathetic, huddled underneath his blanket while curling in into himself, shivering worse than a shaky leaf. He felt awful, his emotion is out of whack, and as soon as his fellow commander walked in, he saw the look.

He hated that look being aimed at him, hated it no matter his condition. It was hard to see the pity in the man’s eyes, as he placed a tray on the dresser just next to the door. 

Rakuyo looked up. He didn’t say anything, but his lips were immediately pressed tightly together, He’s trying to stop himself from talking, Ace realized, because he knew from overhearing Izou and Jozu’s conversation in front of his door yesterday that they all believed it to be the best way to prevent him from getting worse. He has no idea whether or not it worked, but it was frustrating to see them tiptoe around him like this.

The flash of sadness on his fellow commander’s face was quickly gone, but Ace still saw it, “It’s for your own sake, Ace. We don’t want to make it worse for you,” he sighed, “But damnit, you really should’ve told us. We would’ve been more careful and watch ourselves. Hell, we won’t even be doing that stupid Truth or Dare game if we knew,”

Jozu had gone to brief the other commanders of Ace’s condition, and the truth of matter was known to everyone on board within a day. Every crew mate and commanders who came in to check up on him would purposefully keep themselves from saying anything, unsure as to what will trigger the Devil Fruit’s effect and how much more worse it could be. Jozu and Vista had gone through Marco’s notes, and sometimes, Ace would catch Marco’s book and the papers full of research he had done on this fruit in Jozu’s hand.

He felt bad, he honestly does. They had Marco’s disappearance to worry about, and he should’ve been able to help, not hiding in his own room like this.

“Hey, whoa, don’t say that. Don’t even think like that,” Rakuyo admonished, brows furrowed underneath his bandana, “You’re one of us, Ace. Marco’s disappearance is not your fault, that fruit is not your fault, you should never feel guilty about it. We’ll find a way, okay? We’ll find a way to stop it and find Marco at the same time. Who knows, maybe he went off the radar because he’s doing it on purpose,” the commander said hopefully, although Ace can tell that his heart wasn’t in it.

There is no way that is what happened. And besides, Marco wasn’t the kind of person who would defy orders like that.

The older man shrugged, a wry grin slowly blooming on his face, “Hoping some out of left field scenario is better than dreading the worse all the time. Besides, you may never know, there has been a few cases before that he does, when he thinks it was for Pops and our’s sake,” his gaze turned soft, the smile fond as he looked back up to Ace, “Maybe he found some way to cure you. I’m willing to bet that if it’s for you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’s a romantic like that,”

Ace cocked his head, and furrowed his brows, quiet for the first time in a while. 

He doesn’t get it. Not even his inner-self and this fruit seems to as well, considering that was the longest he could keep his silence.

Rakuyo laughed, and unlike his earlier smile, this one sounded more genuine in its amusement, “You really don’t, huh? Poor old Marco,” he snickered, until his laughter finally died down and his smile turns dim, “We’ll get him back, Ace. We’ll get him, we’ll fix you, and everything will go back to the way it was again,”

He left soon afterwards, without another word. The air turned suffocating once more, even though Ace knew he imposed this self-isolation to himself.

Once the bandana-wearing man’s footsteps has finally gone away, Ace slowly crawled out of bed and made his way over to the dresser and to the tray of food. It was still a lot of food for normal people, but it was less than what he would usually eat, though it’s not like he had a big appetite right now. He ate without the usual gusto, lethargically munching slowly on solid food and swallowing every mushy texture without even tasting them.

In the middle of taking a spoonful of rice, Ace paused, and turned his gaze to the door, and wondered what Rakuyo meant by ‘get him back’.

It was with no surprise that he found himself lying on the floor with no recollection as to how he ended up there, but the fact that his eyes felt bleary was telling enough. His bouts of narcolepsy has gotten worse for the past 3 days, and being isolated in his bedroom all alone, waking up on the floor was a common occurrence.

What wasn’t so common, however, was hearing footsteps above him, followed by whispered words.

“—don’t think we should tell him. I mean, he’s dealing with enough right now,”

He recognized the voice as Thatch, and before he could call out to the man, he heard a second one, a low baritone fleeting somewhere close by, “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right, Thatch. He’s going to figure it out sooner or later, we might as well just tell him. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“It can make him worse for one, Vista,” the cook replied, his footsteps echoing in Ace’s ear, “Besides, it’s not just about him, it’s about all of us too. We’re worried enough for Ace and now Marco, we don’t need to have this two problems colliding,” There’s clacking over the table, before the young Commander felt someone hovering over him and a hand runs through his hair, musing it slightly, “Rakuyo told me earlier he’s starting to feel guilty. Something about not being useful,”

“Kid likes being useful,” The second voice, Vista chuckled, “Then again, i think all of us felt the same. We’re sitting ducks right now, when Marco…,”

The hand on Ace’s head stiffened, before once again returning to it’s awkward grooming. Thatch finally stopped after a while, patting the back of Ace’s head gently and almost paternally, “Carry him to bed, will you? I’ll clean up his lunch,”

Another set of footsteps walked closer, as Vista’s voice was heard again, “This is so fucked,” the swordsman sighed, as Ace felt a hand larger than Thatch’s on his shoulder, preparing to roll him over, “First we found out that Ace has been inflicted by a Devil Fruit effect and is getting worse by the day, and now Marco is caught by the marines. And he’s probably the only one who knows—“

What?

Both Thatch and Vista looked startled as they both faced him, and before they could say or do anything, Ace scrambled up, eyes staring between the two men in front of him. 

There is no way he misheard that.

The news took up the entirety of the front page, the word ‘BIRD IN A GILDED CAGE: WHITEBEARD’S 1ST DIVISION COMMANDER MARCO THE PHOENIX CAPTURED’  printed above a conjoined picture of Marco’s bounty poster and a photograph of the man himself shackled in several heavy chains, seated and surrounded in between five men whose coat indicates that they’re high ranking amongst the navy. 

Ace stared down to the picture, to Marco’s hooded eyes, and found some relief in seeing the calmness and defiance existing behind the blood spattered oculars.

“It was supposed to be a quick recon,” the freckled male looked up at Thatch’s voice, noting that the man was glancing towards the same picture, “An island under Pops’ protection contacted us, saying that they’re under attack by another pirate crew and in need of a protection. Marco was supposed to find out who it was, and if possible, finish it by himself,”

A pirate crew, both knowingly and unknowingly invading Pops’ territory was nothing new. Ace himself had been sent out on his own several times to settle that sort of matter, and most of the time, it was caused by general newbies who think that they can take over smaller areas belonging to Whitebeard without the Yonko realizing it.

So that’s why Marco said he’s not going to take long. 

But how does that lead to his capture? And the marines seen on the picture were all Vice Admirals, all 5 of them. That’s an excessive amount of them in one location, and they know there is no way that many would be sent out without a special assignment.

The pompadoured chef gritted his teeth, the scar under his eyes twitching at the gesture, “Our alliance with that island was started by the late mayor, who only recently died. He was a good friend to Pops. The current mayor, his son, is a greedy little bastard. Haruta is still investigating with his team, but we’re all putting our money in him selling us out to the marines,” 

Ace’s hands clutched the newspaper even harder, lips stinging from how hard he bit down on it.

“That’s not all,” Thatch continues, hand reaching over for the newspaper. He tapped on the top of the page, “Look at the date of this news,”

Ace moved his gaze to the place the man pointed to, and widened his eyes. The news was from 2 days ago, according to the listed date. Have they been keeping it away from him for 2 days now? He wasn’t even confined to his own room then, had they been lying to him for so long? Had he been running around, head muddled in his own problem that he missed the fact that Marco was caught and in trouble?

The older man rubbed the back of his nape, “It’s… not like that, Ace,” he exhaled, expression pinched, “I guess, in a way we do keep it from you, but that’s not what i meant. The moment we receive this, we sent out the scouting team ahead,” as soon as this slipped out of him, Thatch paused briefly, and Ace knew why.

The scouting team was formed between 3 division who is mainly responsible for first respond and dispatch, basically their first line of defense and information gathering. Three divisions which were Namur’s, Haruta’s…

…and his.

Fuck this.

Fuck all of this.

“Ace, you can’t—“

Can’t what? There’s a lot of things right now that he wish he can’t. But this stupid fruit, his stupidity in taking that captain on like Marco said, just everything, everything—

Marco.

He can’t even save Marco.

Marco, who is now in the clutches of marines. Marco, who promised him to come back as soon as he could, who is now nearly a week missing and was in the marine’s clutches. Marco, who did everything he could to help him, but Ace is so useless he can’t even do the same—

“Ace!”

Two pair of hands grabbed his face, holding it strongly that he can’t pull away without struggling and hurting Thatch, “I know you can’t help it right now, but for fuck’s sake, stop saying that! Stop thinking like that!” the man half shouted at his face, expression dire and a mixture between pity and desperation, “You’re not useless! Right now, all of us are in the same boat as you, none of us can save Marco. He’s gone!”

Ace stopped struggling, eyes wide. What? But, the newspaper…

“Yesterday morning, Haruta and Namur arrived on that island. They caught the mayor, but the makeshift base where they kept Marco was already destroyed. There’s countless marine casualties, one of the Vice Admirals are dead, and the only one who wasn’t in critical condition spilled the beans after Haruta threatened him,” the grip on his face loosened. Thatch looks tired, exhausted even, “Marco escaped the night before Haruta and Namur arrived, taking down everyone in that place, even chained down with seastone. Supposedly he escaped without taking it off,”

…

Thatch smiled, his grin mischievous and teasing, “Look at that, i made you speechless, didn’t i? Marco’s a tough bastard, bird or no bird. There’s a reason why he’s the First Mate, you know,” the smile dimmed down slightly, all humour gone from his tone, “Still, the key to open his chains was still hidden in the base. The Vice Admiral also said he was badly injured when he escaped, and without his Devil Fruit or any means to escape further, we think he’s still somewhere on that island, hiding,”

Slowly, Ace understood what caused Thatch to look like that. If Marco was stay put in the jail, he’s at least in one place and there’s not much they can do to hurt him further if they plan to move him away, probably to Impel Down. He’d be relatively save enough. But wounded, chained with seastone and at large, there is no telling what happened to him now. Seastone chains are notoriously hard to unlock, even with a more primitive means, and taking down an entire base, no matter how strong Marco is, with such handicap there is no way he escape unscathed.

So either Marco is out there tending to his wounds, or he could be de—

“No. He’s not dead,” Thatch gripped his shoulders, and there’s something in his eyes that made even Ace slightly fearful, “He’s a tough fucker, i would know. He’ll be alright, we just have to find where he is, that’s all,”

Which would be a comforting line, if Thatch didn’t say it like he was trying to convince himself rather than convincing Ace.

The 4th division commander faltered, taking a step back with a grim look on his face. He chuckled, dry and humourless and gazed at Ace with a pained look on his face, “I prefer you when you weren’t that blunt. What an annoying fruit,”

Ace couldn’t help but smile at that. Annoying doesn’t even cover it.

He looked back at the newspaper in his hand, page now slightly creased during their little altercation. Taking down 5 Vice Admiral while chained is no small feat, much less when it was done while chained down and injured. Marco’s tough, just as Thatch said, but no one can blame them for being worried for his wellbeing. They don’t know his condition right now, if he’s still somewhere in the island or he had somehow procured a way to escape on his own, not knowing that help was on its way.

He probably knows that someone will soon come after him. But there is this unease in Ace’s stomach, an unease that tells him he hated not being sure of that. And he wanted to know, he needs to know whether or not Marco is alright.

He needs to go there.

His legs already moved on its own as the thought crossed his mind, but there is no doubt that he said it out loud because Thatch suddenly stood up and was in front of him in no time, “Oh no, you don’t,” the hand was back on his shoulders, pushing his back down to the bed as Thatch loomed over him with a hard expression, “You are not going anywhere, Ace. Not you. If Haruta and Namur needed backup, Izou and Fossa’s division are on standby. Jiru’s are already on their way there. But you are not going anywhere,”

Anger and impatience began to bubble inside of him. This devil fruit doesn’t make him a less effective fighter. He can still do his duties and he can still help.

Thatch opened his mouth, closed it again for a while before he took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose loudly, “You know what, you can’t bullshit your way around, i’ll be fair with you, i’m not gonna bullshit you. Right now, we don’t think you can be of any help,” 

The centre of Ace’s stomach felt cold at those words, but Thatch wasn’t finished, “Jozu read Marco’s book. He noted that in terms of fighting, you will be at great disadvantage when you can’t keep your strategy to yourself, and he warned that with the possibility of you getting worse, we can’t risk you getting involved with enemies. He predicted a lot of things, and so far, from what i see from you, most of them has happened. You’re like a walking narration box right now, and trust me, it’s a good thing you’re amongst family here because out there, who knows what other people would do,”

The hands on his shoulder started to loosen themselves. Thatch took a few step back, and as he’s nearing the door, he reached down his pocket and took out a small, glinting object. Ace squinted, finding that it was a key, “I didn’t want to do this,” the cook said sombrely, “But i… i knew you’re going to fight this the moment you find out, and we’re not going to let you. This if for your own sake, Ace,”

He didn’t really understand what Thatch meant, until the older took another step back and opened the door. They’re going to lock him in. 

“Yes, we’re going to,”

That’s… that’s stupid. It’s a stupid door, he can just burn it down and leave if he wanted to, even if it’s locked, he can just…

Oh.

Oh shit, he shouldn’t have said that.

Looking up, the look on Thatch’s face was very close to what could be classified as smug, if he didn’t look so exasperated and resigned, “Yeah. But you can’t help it, can’t you? Now knowing you won’t listen to me and is going to burn this thing down, i’m going to put guards in front of your door. Not that i wasn’t going to before, i knew you’re going to do that,” he sighed, opening the door and placing the key at level with the keyhole from the outside of Ace’s room, “So if you’re really going to blow this thing down, you’ll risk hurting a nakama. You won’t do that, will you?”

Ace felt stricken. Is he really threatening him with that?

“Yes, Ace. If it means you’re not going anywhere, then yes,” the tone in the cook’s voice was uncharacteristically serious, as was his stern gaze, “And just think about what just happened, would you? This is you arguing with me over a door and about escaping to help Marco. What would happen if you do the same in front of an enemy who wanted your head and who knows what else?” he bit his lower lips, as he continued, “Face it, okay? The way you are now, you can’t help Marco,”

With those last words, Thatch closed the door with a slam, and locked it with a very audible ‘click’.

Ace didn’t have to wait long to know that Thatch made good of his words.

Even worse, he didn’t think he’d go so far as to use ex-Spade Pirates as his guards.

“No, he didn’t really tell us to do this,” Masked Deuce’s voice flitted from outside of his room, slightly muffled by the thick wood between them, “In fact, he barely came up with the plan to lock you in like this. He think it’s rather barbaric and cruel. I think it’s a stroke of genius,”

A little quieter and further away from the door, he heard Saber’s quiet hum of acknowledgement. Ace thinks this is mutiny, but then again, he wasn’t their captain anymore.

“Even if you’re still our captain, we would do the same,” Deuce continued, and there’s a bang on the door that tells him someone decided to lean against the surface, “We care about you, Ace. We your ex-crew, everyone else in this ship,” he paused briefly, and said in a lower tone, “And i bet Marco won’t want you to risk yourself saving him,”

Ace winced. That’s a low blow.

“Maybe, but you need to understand your situation right now, and you’ve always been bad at that,”

The two in front of the door fell into silence. Ace sat back down to his bed, and buried his face into his knees.

He fucking hate this fruit, he really does. Why did he think it wasn’t going to be a big deal? It prevent him from saving Marco, it almost reveals him as Roger’s son, and now he can’t stop revealing every single thing he had in his mind. He’s rendered useless now, he knows despite what Thatch or Rakuyo or just about everyone say, all because he can’t keep his mouth shut. All he could do now was just hunkered down on his bed, muffling his words in because when you can’t stop talking, the only thing you can do is make sure no one can hear what you have to say.

The dark haired male’s eyes opened wide with revelation.

That’s all he needs to do. He just has to silence himself. 

Immediately after he raised his head, he pressed his mouth with both hands, ignoring the icky sensation of his mouth moving against his palm and the slight wetness from his saliva. 

Eyeing the door, warily listening to the quiet conversation in front of the door - probably just Saber and Deuce talking to each other - Ace crept over to his dresser next to the door, clamping his mouth harder the closer he got. He pulled the top drawer, careful not to make any noise, and once it was open wide enough, he scanned his eyes into the content. The top drawer was where he kept his shirts - rarely used as they are these days - and after a long bout of searching, finally found the only long sleeved shirt he ever owned, from that one time they ended up in a winter island and the folks in this ship has yet to realize that he doesn’t get cold.

To think that it would actually be of any use.

With one last glance to the door, he spread the shirt open and folded the torso area until it was only a line as big as the sleeves, making it look like an oddly shaped towel that seems thin enough to fit in his mouth and still thick enough to muffle his words. He didn’t really have time to test that theory, as he quickly bit down on the middle and tied the sleeves behind his head. It hurt his jaw a little, and it felt incredibly uncomfortable, but he didn’t have time to be comfortable.

Ace lets his hands go from the knot behind his head and with trepidation, waited until his now muffled words become noticed by the two on the door.

It didn’t. None of them commented anything, at least until he heard Saber said, “It’s a bit quiet in there,”

Deuce huffed, “Probably got knocked down by narcolepsy. I can’t believe i’m saying this, but it’s probably a good thing he has that, at least he won’t have to suffer like that all the time,”

Ace is torn between pride over his own idea and touched by Deuce’s words, but right now, he didn’t have time to be touched. He figured out a way to bypass his current situation, but he still highly doubt that they’d let him go. And Thatch is right, he can’t risk hurting his own nakama. There has to be some other way to do this.

Just as he thought of that, he turned his gaze to the wall, and subsequently the little circular window attached over his desk. His room oversees the seas, but the window is way too small for someone with his muscular build to go through. Not that it was his goal at all.

The other wall where his bed was located separates his room and the storage, instead of another bedroom like most of the structure of the Commander’s quarters. The door of that room is conveniently broken yesterday - he would know, he did the report for that - and using the chaos that this would undoubtably caused, he can run downstairs, where they kept the lifeboats and most importantly, Striker.

Oh, Fossa and the shipwrights are going to hate him for this, but desperate times calls for desperate measure.

Ace took in a deep breath - and told himself to never do it again unless he wanted to get a mouthful of lint - as the tiny ball of flame gathered in his hand slowly formed bigger and bigger.

He’s not stay and do nothing. 

He’s not going to be useless.

The explosion caught everyone off guard, and as everyone around him shouts and speculated over a possible ambush, Thatch’s mind immediately went to the only possible explanation in the middle of the sea with no other ship close to theirs, “Ace,”

With a long string of curse in his mouth, he pushed everyone out of his way, making his way down to the barracks and felt his stomach slowly sinking the more people gathered there and shouting how it had come from there, “It came from Commander Ace’s room,” someone shouted behind him, and Thatch cusses even louder and faster. Did he really do it? Did he explode the door just to—

But the door was still intact. It was opened, however, and there is a strong burnt smell and thick smoke coming from the ajar door. With trepidation, he pushed it open, and was greeted with the sight of a gaping Deuce and Saber, staring at a large burnt hole where Ace’s bed and wall used to be. Just over the now destroyed wall was the storage room, and the door was left open, almost falling from the hinges, as if someone had thrown it open with all of their might.

“Fuck,” he whispered, gaining the attention of the two flabbergasted men, “Fuck, no, Ace, you little fucker, don’t you fucking dare—“

The door was banged open, and in front of it, panting and panicking was Izou. Just the sight of Izou losing his composure was enough to make Thatch even more harried, until the words left the crossdresser’s lips, “We just saw Striker leaving the hull. Where is Ace?!” he quickly fell silent once he saw the burned and still sizzling hole in Ace’s room.

The next words that came out of his mouth perfectly reflects Thatch’s thoughts, “I’m going to kill that little shit,”

Chapter Text

The journey on its entirety was exhausting.

He left in the evening and now, the sun has risen again on the horizon, telling him just how far he had gone. Still, Striker is faster than any other ship on board of Moby, and it was a good thing that the article Thatch showed him told of the location where Marco was captured, because otherwise, he’d be sailing aimlessly. The first 15 minutes after sailing he knows that this entire thing was rather reckless of him, but he can’t go back now and the fruit had seem to only amplify the one thought in his head.

Marco. He needs to find and save Marco.

And Ace knows that even muffled, he had been repeating that very same word over and over during the course of his sail. He could hear it, even muffled - because there’s not really much to hear when you’re in the middle of the sea - and as crazy as it drove him, he let his thought and mumbles becomes his motivator. Even if it has begun to drench the front of his makeshift muzzle with saliva.

At very long last, he came across an island, and he didn’t have to check long to know that this is indeed his destination. There’s at least 2 marine ship wreckage by the coast of the summer island, with plenty of planks floating away to the crashing waves. Along the same coastline, he could see people milling about, several dressed in white marine uniforms and chained down by a familiar group of men. As Ace slowly let his fire dwindle down and slowing Striker down, he could see Whitebeard marks on each of those men’s body and smiled. Finally.

One of the men, a black dotted fishman, one he recognize as one of the few fishmen they had on board and Namur’s right hand man, turned his gaze and found Ace. Soon as their eyes locked, the fishman’s eyes widened, the whisker like tendrils along his mouth flailing about as he screamed, loud enough for even Ace to hear, “He’s here! He’s actually here!”

Of course they know he’d be coming, the explosion he caused would’ve let people know that he had left a long time ago.

Ace expected that, but he didn’t expect those who were obviously his nakama suddenly running towards him, and certainly not for the fishman to yell out, “Get him! And get Commander Namur, we’d need help restraining him,”

…What?

He turned back to the men who ran towards him, now making their way through the shallow part of the beach, and saw that one of them was carrying a strikingly familiar handcuff with a suspicious glint on the inside rim. Ace’s eyes widened, his foot slowly flaming up once more, making Striker’s engine purring and growling right behind him.

They’re going to stop him here too?

When the nearest crew was almost within reach, Ace change course and sped away, only half-apologetic when he heard them puttering at the wave of sea water Striker splashed all over them. The yelling from the shoreline has increased in intensity, with Namur and Haruta’s name being mentioned several time, and Ace knew he didn’t have long before any of those two actually appear. He can’t stop there, then. He’d have to find another point of entry to the island and make sure to avoid his own nakama.

This is getting ridiculous. He just wanted to help. He even found a way to get over this stupid fruit, why are they still so adamant in stopping him?

Stupid fruit. Stupid cocky pirate for eating and using them without mastering them. 

Stupid protective nakamas.

Stupid Marco for getting caught.

Stupid Marco for making him worry as if he didn’t have to worry about himself right now.

Stupid, hypocrite Marco, for calling him irresponsible but is being one now that makes everyone worried. Stupid, dumb Marco, for escaping but never coming back and making everyone even more worried. Stupid, confusing Marco, for saying things he didn’t get, for calling things a mistake when Ace didn’t even know what he had done, when Ace didn’t know what he wanted from him. Stupid, cool but stupid Marco, who did everything he could to help Ace, so now Ace had to help him.

Stupid, dishonest, lying Marco for saying he’d help but not being there when Ace needed him, when he’s getting worse and wanted nothing but comfort and reassurance that things will be okay. 

Stupid, stupid Marco.

And stupid island for having absolutely no entry point other than the goddamn beach from earlier.

He was far enough from the beach by now, so far that he couldn’t hear the yelling anymore. Yet the entire island was surrounded by tall cliffs and with hard currents splashing by them, he couldn’t exactly park Striker there to climb up. He kept sailing, bursting Striker at full speed, keeping an eye out for a lower point of entry or another beach where he can safely land. He’s only halfway around the island as a whole, there should be something soon, maybe by the very back of it or somewhere on the other side.

A sudden splash was heard somewhere behind him, and when Striker suddenly rocked out of control, Ace turns around.

Drenched and dripping all over his boat, Namur stood with a grim face. He suddenly grabbed Ace’s shoulder before the human can say anything, one arm pulled behind him as he whispered, “I’m so sorry about this, Ace. This is for your own good,”

Not even Ace’s fruit influenced mind had enough time to think when there’s suddenly a sharp, stinging pain below his chest, and Ace’s world suddenly turns dark.

“—you believe him?”

“Eh, it’s Commander Ace, what do you expect? Not exactly the most rational thinker in the world,”

It was to these voices that he woke up to, lying on his side and with his jaw aching but mouth strangely empty. He panicked, thinking they had removed his makeshift muzzle until he felt a flimsy and much more comfortable handkerchief being tied around his lower face, serving the same purpose as his shirt only giving him less pressure and pain. Moving his hands caused a little jingle following the press of a cold sensation around his wrist that made Ace sigh. He didn’t have to look down to know that it’s a Seastone handcuff, not when he already felt a familiar lethargy coursing through his body, probably to prevent him from exploding his way out again.

He felt like a real prisoner for a brief moment, if he didn’t remember that the last person he saw before blacking out was Namur and someone nearby was calling him ‘Commander’.

Even if it was to kind of insult him.

Ace gathered his surrounding, finding himself in a small and sparse bedroom of sorts when the voices came back, “True. Remember 100 days of trying to kill Pops? What a sweet kid,” the first voice said with a snicker, and even without the fruit Ace knows he’s feeling quite irritated by that, “Still, you’d expect him to stay back just once. He’s tough and all, but holy shit, that fruit he got affected with was fucking creepy. Rei and i were passing by his room when Commander Blamenco brought him his dinner and it’s like watching and listening to a madman raving,”

In a way Ace agrees, but the comment stings. He knew what an absolute wreck he was during these last few days, but hearing it described was horrible.

“I know, i heard it too. You know Platz, the beefy guy from Second Division? Saul said he saw him crying in the bathroom, sobbing about ‘Poor Commander’ and how ‘we failed you, Commander’, being all dramatic. Well, i guess we all feel the same, but surprised me that he can be that emotional,”

“…The same Saul who got beaten up because apparently he tattled something?”

“Yeah, exactly that blabbermouth moron,”

From the sound of it, there’s only two of them, and they should be right outside of the door where he was kept. They hadn’t commented on anything or seems aware that Ace was even awake, so the handkerchief muzzle should’ve worked just fine. 

Looking around again, it seems that this place was a cabin of sorts, probably in the village inside of the island. The room he was held in was windowless and small, giving him absolutely no way to escape or to even know what was outside. 

“It’s kind of cute though,”

“…Commander Ace being unable to stop talking like a lunatic?”

“No,” the voice sounds indignant and even weirded out that his friend would even think so, “I mean the whole him chasing us down here,”

“A headache, more like. Commander Haruta looks ready to stab someone when he got the call,”

“Fair point, but in a way, you gotta admire his determination. Wanting to save a nakama so badly he exploded his own bedroom to escape and uncaring of his own condition,”

“Well, he’s not really helping anyone now though, i mean, we’re stuck here guarding him instead,” the second voice said, and even deep down in his protesting mind, Ace found a small voice that say he agrees with them, “Good guy, but reckless as all hell. Besides, pretty sure it’s less nakama and more boyfriend,”

His investigation stops and Ace let out a muffled squeak.

“Wait, i thought it turns out they’re not dating?”

“Do you believe that though? I don’t. I was there with the poker guys when Commander Thatch told literally everyone he caught them kissing in Commander Marco’s bedroom. Like the simple fact that Commander Ace was even spending the night in Commander Marco’s bedroom is already telling,”

“Duuude, i knew it! But then why’re people saying they’re not, though?”

“I think it’s cause Commander Jozu’s debrief was kinda unclear. He just told us that Commander Marco’s had just been helping him out all this time, so many thought it’s a misunderstanding. You know what i think though? I think he’s just saying that cuz he lost big time in Commander Thatch’s betting pool and wanna get it back. Well, it’s what Commander Thatch goes around saying anyway, but i’m more inclined to believe him, to be honest,”

“Yeah, as if no one in the whole goddamn Moby didn’t know that Commander Marco had the hots for Commander Ace since he joined. You remember that one time Commander Ace wanted to show off to us and beat the cocky 300,000 belli crew in North Blue? The one where he just took off his shirt for no reason in the middle of winter to show off his new tattoo? Commander Marco’s face was the face of a man mid-orgasm, like goddamn, ”

A crisp, jovial laughter, “Oh shit, no, no, i remember that one! No, you know what i do remember though? You remember when we all went to Gambler’s Redoubt down in West Blue? The one where Pops won 1 billion belli from the casino and none of the bouncer can kick him out because they’re scared shitless of him? Okay, we were all so focused on Pops and his winnings, but apparently, Commander Marco went and won 90 games straight from the Blackjack table and cleaned them out because he found out the dealer swindled Commander Ace out of his money. The dealer got punished, last i heard,”

Ace perked up. He actually remembered that. He had never played cards before so he had gone with Thatch to learn. Thatch left halfway to watch Pops playing poker in the other table, but the dealer convinced him to stay. He didn’t win a single hand that night, and though disappointed and belliless, figured it was because he wasn’t all that good at it anyway. He had complained about it to Marco later on in the bar area, after saying he’s hungry and barely have any money left to pay for his own food.

He remembered Marco letting him borrow some belli, and leaving after Ace began eating. Was that where he went then?

“Goddamn. What happens next? Did you know if he use the money?”

There’s a brief pause, until the second man spoke again, “You know Barska, Commander Rakuyo’s assistant in the treasury? You don’t hear this from me or him, alright?” the voice became lower and it wasn’t until Ace found he was already standing from the bed and halfway to the door did he realize he was moving closer to hear. The door was thin enough that voice carry, so he could hear even with the lowered volume, “You know Commander Ace’s dagger?”

Immediately, Ace’s eyes went to the dagger on his hips, sheathed in emerald and ever present even if hardly ever used.

“Yeah, Commander Curiel won’t stop talking about it for months, so much that i can recite it in my head. Blade made out of carbon steel and alloy of tungsten and inconel, capable to withstand any high pressure and temperature, so sharp it can cut steel and seriously injure someone with just a swing, and since it’s imbued with seastone, that will also affect Devil Fruit users. Hilt made out of adam wood, polished and waxed for smooth grip, sheath made out of genuine Sea King leather and bound together by the finest silk from Grand Line. A rare item from the hand of a great blacksmith whose mastery was on par with the greatest of Wano’s weapon makers, which existence wasn’t even known anymore after said blacksmith died,”

“…Oh damn, you weren’t kidding,”

“It’s that bad. What about it though? I know Commander Ace got it for his birthday last year and that got Commander Curiel on his tail for weeks just to see it,”

The voice became lower and Ace took another step, “Three guesses who gave it to him, and the first two guesses don’t count,”

Silence ensued between the two guard-turns-gossiper outside, until Ace heard a gasp, “That shit cost more than my entire division’s bounty combined! Plus the Commander’s! Who the fuck waste so much money on someone, even if you fancy them?!”

“You haven’t hear the best bit yet. The winning from that casino only cover a part of the price, and this is where Barska got involved. Commander Marco swore him to secrecy when he borrowed money from the treasury to make up the rest, and he spent the whole year giving up his part of the loot to pay it back. A whole year, paying back a debt with the First Mate’s cut. It’s not much bigger than ours, but a whole damn year,”

“But why?!”

Ace couldn’t agree more with the bewildered voice, hand shakily placed on top of his dagger. 

“Well, a weapon as a gift, especially in a life like ours, means you are delivering your prayers for their safety and wellbeing because you know you won’t always be there for that person,”

“…Oh wow, that was cheesy as hell,”

“Oh shut it, i’m not even the one who comes up with that,”

“Who did then?”

“Commander Marco did, but he was drunk at the time so i don’t think he even remember saying that. I heard him say it during New years when Commander Izou asked what he got Commander Ace for his birthday,” Again, the silence ensued, and the second voice hummed, “Huh, now that i think about it, i was wondering why he said that out of the blue. Never really made the connection until now,”

(Marco had given his present so casually that night after the celebration for both the turning year and his birthday had winded down, knocking on his door late night with an entirely sober expression and a friendly smile. He apologized for not giving Ace’s gift during the party earlier - as he handed over a curved and neatly wrapped item - saying that it’s not quite something he wanted others to know he had.  Even in his diluted mind, Ace thought the dagger had been extremely beautiful, glinting bright in the dim light of his night candle.

“To protect yourself when your fire cannot,” Marco had told him then.

“But my fire will always protects me, i don’t need a knife to do it,” Ace had rebutted then, pouting slightly but despite his words, only pressing the dagger closer to his chest.

“I know. I hope it always will. Think of that knife as an… extra precaution. All good pirates has one, even me,”

“Whoa,” Ace mumbled then, drunk but the feeling of awe pierced through it, “Even someone as strong as you. Okay then,” he slipped the clip to his pants’ belt loop, fumbling due to his lack of balance in intoxication, “Thanks, Marco,”

Marco smiled then, calm and fond, “Just make sure you never get into a situation where you’ll need to even unsheathe that thing and that’ll be good enough for me,”)

“But still, does— does Commander Marco doesn’t know that souvenir shop exist?! Normal-ass weapon store that sold normal daggers? Or blackmarkets with seastone blades?! I’ve never even seen Commander Ace use that thing!”

“Guess the thought that counts?”

“A whole lot of fucking money counts!”

“Well, i highly doubts it counts when it comes to love,”

The two continued their conversation, but their words was already lost to Ace.

Love…?

Marco… loves him?

There’s a heating pool inside of his stomach now, and even standing still, Ace can feel his heart beating fast. Love. It’s such a foreign concept for him, and even more alien when he applied it to himself. It was something he would associated to his brothers, the determination to be there for them and the will keep their spirit in his mind, even when they’re no longer alive. It’s something he associated with Dadan and the bandit, Makino and the villagers, who in their strong words and every punches and scolding had care behind them. It was something he knows Gramps had in him and he had for him, despite their tumultuous relationship with each other.

It was something he was starting to accept the Whitebeard Pirates has for him. It felt inviting even if he knows it was flimsy, because of his blood and the fear of their rejection upon discovery. It was something he wished Pops will always have in him, and that was why he will treasure his old captain and give his all to help him become the Pirate King. Love for him means care, brotherhood, growth, concern and pride, bond, and it was something he fear to lose one day simply because of who he really is.

But Marco knows who he is. And he accepted it. 

Marco, who saw him at his worst and still has it in him to tell him the beauty that is Pops’ family and what it means to join them. Marco, who held him, told him not to fear, and give him shelter. Who was there in his every step it almost becomes suffocating, because Ace fears making the wrong step and making a bad impression to him. He wanted Marco to see more of him, that he can be his equal, yet at the same time he’s happy to be protected and taken care of, to seek comfort whether in the form of blue flames or strong arms.

Marco, the paradox in his life, an outlier of what he always thought love was, because everything he knows up until now always seems lacking, it was missing something.

And he loves it. He wanted to chase after it, to find out.

And he can’t find that out kept in here, in a room with no window, one guarded door, and chained down.

He needs to find Marco.

Ace’s hand around the dagger tightened.

That’s right, this dagger is strong enough to cut through steel, isn’t it?

“Did you hear something?”

“Hear what?”

“That clanking noise just now. It sounds like it comes from the inside,”

“You think Commander Ace is awake?”

“He must be—Gah!“

Startled by the door behind them suddenly breaking into splinters, Biggs didn’t even have enough time to ask Wedge is he’s alright when the door suddenly fell out from the hinges, and no one else but Ace standing behind it, his handcuffs still attached by the chains cut clean as if it had been cut down by a really sharp tool, and one of said now free hand balled in a punching position. The dark haired male lowered his hands and gaze him a brief gaze before suddenly running away, leaving only a black and orange blur, “C-Commander Ace! Wait, stop!”

But of course, the younger commander hardly deigns him. He disappeared out of the hut after bumping and running to other people, shocking the most out of them so much that it wasn’t until he was only a black blur in the distance that they all realized what just happened.

In the commotion that arose, Biggs looked down to the giant hole on the door, the splinters where the side of the door had been completely broken and Wedge underneath said door, groaning in pain but seemingly unharmed.

“Oh fuck, Fire Fist is out there with only Fist and no Fire,”

Chapter Text

It was like he was back in Foosha, climbing up and leaping from trees to trees, hunting with tracks left behind by animals and non-animals. As he climbed up a fairly large birch to take in his surrounding and see how far away he had gotten, Ace half expected to look down and find Luffy and Sabo by the tree’s base, shouting for him to tell them what he had seen up there and which way they’re supposed to go next.

But there weren’t two head of blonde and raven, merely a stack of leaf falling from the tree, a dirty ground, and the concerning mark against the bark that made him climb up here in the first place. He recognise that mark as a sign of scuffle, and unless the animals in this island differs incredibly from anywhere else, he highly doubt even the biggest tiger could make a scratch that deep.

It’s a mark left behind by a sword, and it was still fairly fresh, barely a day old.

Adjusting the handkerchief in front of his mouth, Ace glanced to the other direction from where he had been staring and found the telltale sign of smoke and a clearing in the midst of the thick rainforest, a sign of habitation and where he knows the village he had ran away from was. He hadn’t heard anyone pursuing him for at least an hour now, but that didn’t stop Ace from becoming wary. Haruta and Namur are excellent trackers of their own rights, and while Ace is confident his upbringing and experience in this sort of environment gave him advantage, it was only matter of time that they found him. The entire forest might be vast, but it’s not infinite.

He sighed, the front of the handkerchief turning damp by his breath. Shouldn’t they be spending more time looking for Marco instead of trying so hard to stop him? Don’t they all have the same goal in the end?

If only this stupid fruit…

The raven haired commander shook his head, and climbed back down with ease. He doesn’t have time for this. That sword mark on the base of the tree and the scuffles around the ground told him that someone else other than the Whitebeard Pirates are out here. He recalled the article mentioning about 5 Vice Admirals and Thatch telling him that all of them had been taken care of by Marco, but that doesn’t mean no one could be out here. 

Dammit, he could’ve known the situation better if his own nakama didn’t turn out to be a problem.

Once his feet finally landed on the ground, Ace observed the blade mark again before unsheathing his dagger and making his own right next to it. In any other situation, he would’ve carved in a cross with a curve going through it, as per the signal between the Whitebeard Pirates to let each other know which area has been investigated by a different division and subsequently also a landmark for said person or division to know that they had passed the area before. But right now, considering the circumstances, he supposed it’s only right he signed it differently.

The mark that he carved in was made out of a swirl of lines, one of the few choice of lexicon he had remembered distinctly from Marco’s note in his language. He might have no idea what it actually means, only that it had been something repeated quite often in one of the smaller footnotes and it had stuck with him. 

And he’s pretty sure that with no one in this island actually knowing what it was aside from Marco and himself, Marco will know it was him should he ever come across one.

He found blood, and he heard himself gasping in the eerie silence of the forest.

It wasn’t even a small amount, more like an entire pail of it, as if someone had dumped it down on the ground. It smattered the leaves and dried land, sending all the herbivores away with the scent alone and seemingly inviting the predators to them. Ace found them after catching a group of canines licking and sniffing around it, all which has now lay dead on his sides after they tried to attack him. 

He could eat, like he always did whenever he killed something so it won’t go to waste, but despite his principles and his loudly grumbling stomach, Ace found himself not hungry. Food is the last thought in his mind now, especially if the blood on the ground belongs to who he thought it might be. 

A few steps away from there found a fallen tree, the barks cuts clean and there were even more blood and an even more obvious signs of scuffles and a fight. Whoever was bleeding ran away, he presumed from the trail of blood that began to go to lead somewhere even deeper to the forest, while the attack seems to have stumbled. There’s a deep handprint on the ground next to a suspiciously circular hole and a deep, slim indent, and if years of living and fighting for his life told Ace anything, that is the presence of someone with a sword of sorts who had just been knocked down, probably by someone they are pursuing.

Retracting his hand from the ground, Ace sighed, watching the blood trickles and the handprint. His stomach felt churning at the mere thought of what happened here, and the conclusion that the pursuer couldn’t possibly be the one injured. He couldn’t even trick himself into thinking that the person who had fallen could be Marco instead, because unless he stole a weapon somehow during his escape, Marco would hardly be carrying a sword.

Standing up, he made another mark on the tree nearby, side stepping around the dead wolf. 

Please be okay, he chanted not for the first time since he found this clearing, please be okay. I’m coming to find you, Marco, please be okay.

He ran, but his conviction slowly drops with every step he took.

It was after 2 more hours of climbing and running did Ace finally saw him.

Even if him proves to be a very different person than the one he had been looking for.

The man was large, robust and beefy, almost the size of Kingdew and Blenheim mixed together with half of Atmos’ bulk. A large, empty sword sheath was strapped on to his back with the sword gripped tightly in one hand, and the flash of yellow of his hair that Ace originally had mistaken to be Marco reached down to sturdy shoulders wrapped in a bleached white and slightly stained marine uniform. The epaulettes on his shoulder told the world - or well, just Ace - that he ranked the same as the men Marco had thrashed during his escape. 

He walked with the gruffness of an angry bull, stomping and sending small animals running away from his arrival. The man kept grumbling and murmuring while staring at something he seems to be carrying in his other hand, spatting angrily, “—When i get my hands on that bastard, i’ll tear him even more, limb from limb, skin him alive and make sure he can’t heal himself before handing him over to Sengoku. Embarrassing me in front of my men like that—”

It left no doubt in Ace’s mind as to who he was talking about and what he’s wandering around for. Before the man can walk any further, Ace slowly followed him from behind, hiding behind the foliages provided by the jungle.

“—Told that idiot Franqois that we should make our move to Impel Down as soon as we can but the fucker just won’t listen, would he? Just because he gets to lead this whole sting, arrogant fool. ‘He’s got seastone on him, he won’t be a trouble’,” the Vice Admiral kept saying to himself, pitching his tone high mockingly and tilting his head back as he did, “Absolute fool, if a guy can be stopped just because he’s chained down with seastone, he won’t be worth nearly 1 billion belli, now, would he?”

Is that what he looked like because of this fruit?

No wonder those crew members said they were freaked out.

Ace had only managed to stifle a brief laugh when the Vice Admiral suddenly chuckled eerily and turned slightly, revealing the sword in his hand, exposing it directly to Ace’s line of sight. The mild amusement that began to grow inside of the young man instantly died when he saw the amount of dried blood crusting the entire length of the blade, and his own blood ran cold the moment the man also lifted the item he had been holding in his other hand.

It was severed arm, encased in torn purple sleeve splattered by copious amount of blood.

Ace could feel his entire body turning cold and warm at the same time, shocking coursing through his system and freezing his brain with a mix of various emotions. He felt like his breath had been taken out of him, leaving him breathless and his head light, his mouth behind the handkerchief shaking with every word and his tongue felt stiff. There’s a ringing in the back of his head, one that made the corners of his vision white, and it wasn’t until he felt short of breath did Ace learn that what he felt was tremendous fear.

Fear for Marco’s life, for his fate, for his unknown whereabout.

Fear for the possibility of his death.

The marine continued on chuckling, “Still, no matter how strong someone can be, no one can live that long with blood loss. Birdie better not die yet before i can take his other ‘wing’”

He sees red.

How dare he.

How dare he!

Ace let out an angry, guttural, and primal screech that left his throat could not even be muffled by the handkerchief, his mouth opening so wide that the material slipped between his teeth and ended up bitten between them. As a sudden unknown force made the Vice Admiral buckled down all of the sudden, frantically inspecting his surrounding warily, Ace pulled his dagger out of its sheath and jumping out from his hiding spot to rush the man before he can even turn around.

But despite being downed and having such a big bulk, the Vice Admiral was agile enough to side step, avoiding a full contact with the tip of Ace’s dagger and instead getting away with only a gash on his side. He let out a deep pained yell, eyes bulging angrily when he caught sight of Ace, “I knew someone was following me! So, the Whitebeard Pirates has arrived with more reinforcements?” Before he can say anything else, Ace ran towards him again, brandishing his dagger again and make for a stab, if his hand wasn’t stopped and he felt himself being flung easily to the side by the same hand that grabbed him.

His fall was stopped by a well timed roll, stopping his momentum and leaving the young, enraged commander with barely any harm other than what he knows would be a bruise on his side. Ace stood up, grabbing for his dagger again, glaring at the Vice Admiral. 

Instead of taking him seriously, the man laughed, cackled even, and than sent even more blood rushing through Ace’s veins, “What is this? Whitebeard’s trying to get his First Mate back by sending, what, a boy? Hmph, your 5 hundred million bounty is barely worth my time, Fire Fist, even if you managed to catch me off guard with Haki somehow. Why don’t you run along, now? Little boys shouldn’t—“ Again, Ace charged at him, this time catching the man off guard mid-sentence and managing to kick the man’s air out of his lungs. He used his leg against the Vice Admiral’s stomach as a leverage for a flip, kicking the buff man’s on his chin to send him staggering and feeling brief satisfaction over the grunt of pain that was heard. 

His satisfaction runs short, however, when the same leg that kicked the Vice Admiral was suddenly grabbed again by the ankle, this time with a bruising and contemptuous grip that yanked him so hard Ace’s let out a choking noise of surprise. The same hand lifted him up by his leg, leaving him dangling in the man’s hold. Ace looked up, meeting furious glare aiming down to him as he was left dangling in the man’s mercy. He met the man’s glare with his own.

“You little rat, i told you you’re not worth my time,” The admiral growled, bringing his other hand into Ace’s view and still in its hold, Marco’s severed arm. Blood was drained out of his face at the sight, as fear and mortification grips him once again, “Hmm? What is this then? A seastone handcuff? Ha! I was wondering why you haven’t burned me yet, seems like you’re even weaker right now! What a joke,”

The Vice Admiral squinted his eyes, focused on the handkerchief on Ace’s mouth, “And what could this possibly be doing? You tried to bite the person who put yo—Aaagh!”

In the middle of his speech, Ace used the chance to swing himself forward and slash the man’s middle, inflicting a larger and deeper injury than the one he had put before. He was immediately dropped, narrowly avoiding landing on his head while his opponent cursed him to high heavens. Ace stood up, adjusting and tightening the knot on his handkerchief gag once again when all of the excitement had caused it to get a little loose.

Being wounded seems to have angered the admiral even further. The Vice Admiral let out a roar befitting of a wild beast, his face red and veins on his neck taut as he screamed, “You’ll pay for that, you brat!”

The man picked up his sword, and during that split second, Ace ran towards him again, his entire body feeling like a taut spring being sprung into action. It has been a long time since he has fought barehanded without the assistance of his fire, but he hardly ever needs it. With every powerful swing and punch he managed to deliver, there’s his anger and fury mixed behind it, and with a single swipe of the sharp dagger, a dagger Marco had given him, it gave the man yet another cut, purposefully aimed at his sword arm.

It didn’t cut through it the way Ace thinks he deserved, not after what he did to Marco.

It was a sense of bloodlust that kept driving him on, leaping and dodging away from the sharp sword while getting close enough to cause harm to a man bigger than him. The adrenaline that drowning his every senses, so much that he forgot that he was worn down by seastone, that he had no ability to avoid a hit by dissipating away into flames. Yet, when the Vice Admiral’s blade grazed his side, there was barely any pain, and Ace barely paid it any mind as he simply gripped the side of the blade to push it away and brought their distance close enough for him to swing and take a wild stab at the Vice Admiral’s shoulder, staining white marine jacket with red.

And in his blind, reckless rage, this is exactly where he made a fatal mistake.

“Enough playing around,” An enormous hand suddenly grabbed him by the neck, slamming him to the side against a tree. The entire tree shuddered and was even uprooted around the edges at the impact, sending stars into Ace’s vision. He grabbed onto the hand around his neck, clawing and pulling at it, but it would hardly budge. It only tightened itself, crushing his windpipe painfully, but Ace won’t relent in his struggle, kicking his legs up to get the Vice Admiral away from him.

His dagger was still deeply planted inside of the large man’s shoulder, but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge it as he tightened his hand even more and causing Ace to slowly choke behind the handkerchief gag, “I’ll make you pay too, you runt. I’ll crush you here right now, and i’ll finish you right off in front of Phoenix once i get my hands on him. You can be a good side bonus for my superiors after i deliver your comrade’s head on a silver platter,”

Like hell Ace is going to let him.

But the culminating anger and fight in Ace’s core disappeared in an instant, when the Vice Admiral suddenly reached out and tore the handkerchief away from his mouth. It was an action so harsh Ace could feel blood inside of his mouth, but before he can get rid of the horrid taste, suddenly his jaw was gripped hard and he was forced to turn back and face the sneering Vice Admiral, “What are you hiding in there? You got something in your mouth, Fire Fist? Or did cat got your tongue?” he cackled then, his hand squeezing even harder and cutting Ace’s air supply that he was starting to feel lightheaded.

He struggled even harder, but even with his best effort, Ace can tell he was slowly starting to wane from lack of air and his movements had become even weaker. His head felt cold, making him dizzy, and underneath the man’s cackling and further taunting, he thought he saw a flash of gold somewhere in the middle of the green foliages.

With his best effort, Ace tried to focus on the shifting golden blur, and widened his eyes when he finally caught it.

It’s Marco.

Marco, bloodied and shirtless, with said shirt being used to wrap one side of his shoulder with its arm absent. He was extremely pale and disheveled, and his movement sluggish but he was still blessedly alive, still moving, still with enough fire burning in his eyes to creep silently behind the still ranting and raving Vice Admiral with the look of pure contempt in his eyes. Blue, glazed eyes were fixed upon the man’s back, until it shifted and found Ace’s own. 

Then they widened, and his face turned even paler.

The hand around Ace’s neck tightened, making the young man choke and breaking his eye contact with Marco, “Why are you so quiet, brat? Scared, are you?”

Ace tensed up at the question, his jaw suddenly aching in anticipation as he reflexively bit down to his lips, trying to prevent any word from leaving him. Flashes of Marco’s warning from days ago, of this fruit effecting him being used as an interrogation device began to flare and alert him, and in his air-deprived mind, he began to panic and hyperventilate. No, no, he was so close, he already found Marco, this can’t be happening, where is Marco, help—

But there was nothing.

Ace was still biting his lips, even more so at the pain of needing air in his system and around his neck, but his mouth never moved and no word left him. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Nothing but a small whimper of surprise, one that sent the Vice Admiral into cackling laughter, “You are, aren’t you! Ha, what a joke! I change my mind, why don’t you come with me while i find Phoenix and you can make those noises again while i rip him ap—“

A war cry came from right behind the Vice Admiral, when the dagger on his shoulder was suddenly yanked back, pulling the massive man along with the motion and causing him to drop Ace down to the ground to cough and hack repeatedly, catching as much air as he could. The suddenness of both blood and air in his system caused Ace’s eyes to get blurry and his head even more dizzy, so much that he almost missed the altercation right next to him. 

Still gasping and sputtering, the dark haired male looked up just in time to see two bodies falling on the ground in a struggle, Marco snarling underneath the once again enraged Vice Admiral, swinging his one remaining arm up to push the man off him but barely managing to. A feet away from them was his dagger, having fallen out of Marco’s hand.

None of them seems to have noticed him yet, when the Vice Admiral sneered, “Finally come out of your hiding, do you? Just when i was so close to snapping your little friend’s neck, and i might just do it later once i’m done with you. You seems close to it anyway,”

“Don’t you fucking dare touch him,” Marco barked, finding in himself to push back against the large man but only barely so. The Vice Admiral has a point, after all, considering how worn down he looked already, and while the amount of fight he gave was impressive still, he was still bleeding out, and it shows that he barely has any energy left.

With everything he had in him, Ace ignores his pounding headache and surged for the dagger, and stabbed the Vice Admiral at the back of his neck, so deeply half of the dagger sunk down to the man’s spine. The dark haired male pushed it down even more when the man let out a wet choking and gasping noise, and after pushing it down one more time by leaning his entire weight to it, tugged it off with his entire might. A spurt of blood from the man’s neck spattered his chest, but Ace hardly cares as he fell down to the hard ground right on his behind.

The Vice Admiral let out a brief gasp of air before going still. Marco pushed him off with another grunt, and when the man fell, it felt like the ground beneath them shook in a mini earthquake. His eyes were open but they were no longer seeing, a few trails of blood dripping down from behind him to his front and then back to the ground. 

Ace stared at the Vice Admiral for a second, before uttering his first word within his own control for what felt like an eternity, “What a fucking asshole,”

A cough sounded, before it was followed by a series of raspy laughter, and just as Ace turned his attention back to Marco, the older man suddenly slumped down with a weak groan. Immediately, he sprung to action, adrenaline dying down and all that was left in him was concern, panic and relief, “Marco! Marco, hang in there!” he cried out, reaching the man’s side with a single large step and pulling him up. Marco’s shoulder was a mixture of wet substance and crisp texture, the shirt almost entirely soaked with blood and what remains of his arm only a mush flesh underneath it.

The younger ignored all of that in favour of letting Marco sat up and lean against him. The blonde let out a groan before he let out a forced, pained laugh, “Damn, after all the investment i put on that dagger, it even came back and save me. So worth the money,” he lifted his head slowly, enough for Ace to be able to see the lopsided smile on his lips.

It was the sight of that stupid, stupid smile that made Ace’s eyes suddenly heavy with pressure,“You moron, what the hell happened to you?” before he knew it, he found himself screaming, jostling Marco even if he hadn’t done it on purpose, “You promised you won’t take long! ”

Marco only gave him one weak smile, “I did tell you i’m coming back,”

The first fresh tear drop finally fell from Ace’s eyes, as he jostled Marco again, ignoring the older man’s pained grunt, “Only because i came to get you, stupid! What would’ve happened if i didn’t?!” The older man didn’t answer, but the smile on his face was still ever-present. Ace stopped moving, not wanting to hurt the man further but he could help the little sobs that came from him,  “You promised that you’ll be there to help me! It’s been a week! It’s been a week and you weren’t there when i’m at my wit’s end! You kept saying not to make you worry, but now you’re making me worry, you stupid hypocrite!”

“Didn’t seem like it’s going to be a problem anymore, though,” Marco chuckled weakly, the sound vibrating against his chest before it died down and his voice gone soft, comforting even with the amount of fragility it was spoken in, “Sorry, Ace. Sorry for making you worry,”

The blonde’s voice seems distant, even though his head was just right below Ace’s. He’s starting to fade, and Ace held him close, pressing his face to the sweat and blood drenched golden crown that is Marco’s head, “Please hang on,” he sobbed, letting more tears fell on to blonde tresses, “Everyone’s waiting close by, please just hang on,”

Marco had gone weak in his hold, his breath slowing down. The wound on his arm was still bleeding, staining the ground right next to him.

“I love you,”

The one remaining arm fell limply on Ace’s lap, lifeless.

Chapter Text

If people could only have one thing to hate the most the entire world, then for Ace - besides some of the more obvious and angst-ridden topics - it would be a tie between the ‘waiting game’ and the ‘quiet game’. It was a game he and Luffy would never win against Sabo, except for that one unfortunate time when the blonde boy turns out to have a giant spider crawling on his back and the game started before he can inform anyone, and he’d even admit to himself that he’s a bit of a sore loser. 

And besides, it wasn’t as if they didn’t know that Dadan only ever introduce them to the ‘game’ because it was the only way to keep them out of her way most of the time and stop raising hell for the bandits. Even Luffy realized that and the only reason why the three of them kept playing was because they’re competitive little shits and Sabo liked to keep his title away from being taken. Ace himself only played it because his brothers did, and that was good enough reason as any.

But he never once enjoyed himself, and right now, he enjoyed himself even less.

Both of his hands and shoulders were burning lightly, the flame licks onto the empty air both in his need to let them out after being chained down by seastone cuffs for so long and the purpose of keeping the small room warm. There might also be a third reason that is to keep anyone away from bothering him, as he learned worked perfectly well so far. He knows it was rather selfish of him, considering that he’s not the only one who would be worried about Marco, but he just wanted to be left alone now, left to stew in his - finally - private thoughts.

Damn, he forgot about that. He can’t even properly celebrate about finally being free of that damned fruit.

Ace let out a sigh, the small coils of ember that danced along his hair tickled his skin as he shifted one hand away to lit up the head of the bed, which side he had been sitting on in constant vigilance. The raven let his fire died down from his hand and clamber up his upper arm instead, using that hand to trace down Marco’s naked shoulder and arm. The moment he arrived to the village with Marco on his back had caused everyone to panic, but thankfully Haruta’s quick thinking had him brought out the key to the seastone cuff to free Marco’s devil fruit into healing its host. 

But even as blue flame surged and regrow the missing arm - in an admittedly sickening fashion - Marco himself has yet to gain consciousness. His body healed too quickly for his mind to catch up, Namur assured him, after Ace was close to breaking down after thinking that he had been too late after all, and it would sometimes happen when Marco was chained down by seastone for too long with a wound far too extensive, similar to how his body instantly felt abnormally cold when his fire was stolen away for an extended period of time. 

Ace didn’t really care about the logic of devil fruits and anything else. All he knows is that Marco is fine, and he should wake up soon. That alone was enough for him.

It doesn’t mean he liked waiting for him to wake up, however.

There’s barely anyone around the house - the same house where he was kept before, as it turns out, and even in the same room, if the missing door in this very room was of any indication - because majority of the crew were preparing to sail away back to Moby once Marco regained consciousness. He should’ve helped outside, he knows, but being away made him even more stir crazy that in the end, Haruta told him to just look after Marco while everyone else can pack up. 

Besides, being outside means he had to see the village’s mayor, the little traitor who sold them out and was the root of all of this. Ace nearly incinerates him until Namur dragged him away, telling him that they need to bring him back first to face judgement from Pops. The only thing that finally make Ace relents was that the cowardly little shit pissed his pants after Ace unleashed an entire fireball at his direction, and the little promise from Namur that once the punishment had been decided, he can get a little action in as well.

He’ll enjoy every moment of that.

With his hand still on Marco’s arm, Ace squeezed slightly, feeling the hard muscles underneath resisting him and the further down he went, he found coarse golden hair tickling his fingers. He trailed his hand even lower, finding Marco’s limp hands, and gingerly looped their hands together.

Marco’s hand was much bigger than his, though more bony and with thin, long fingers. The nail on his hands were uneven and bumpy, which Ace recognize from one of his old crewmates to be sign that they were bitten often. That crewmate said it had been a habit from growing up, something he often does when he’s nervous or stressed, and he wondered what would be Marco’s reason of doing it or if it was a habit or a one off thing. Evidently, he must have if it’s there, and he looked forward to finding out. 

It was an odd thing to think about, he realized, but he wanted to know more about Marco. 

Wanted to know that strange language he had been carving all over the wood, wanted to learn poker from him because obviously, he’s a good player, he wanted to see the evidence that Marco bit his nails or any other strange habits he may have, wanted to know about past stories about Moby and her crew throughout the year from his perspective. Ace wanted to know so much, learn so much, and see Marco sticking close to him not to reprimand or to watch him closely as a new member of their ship, but because he wanted to be close to Ace too.

Above all, he just wanted to hear Marco saying the same little words he had said in the moment of desperation, and for him to tell them to Marco again in a much less nerve wrecking situation.

With another sigh, Ace extinguished the flames on his body - he had been warm for a while now anyway - and laid his head down on top of the unconscious man’s slowly rising and lowering chest, still locking their hands together.  

“Wake up,” he whispered as his eyelids slowly lowered themselves, and before long, Ace finally fell asleep.

As dirty water from the sink splashed on to his stomach and down the hem of his shorts, Ace groaned, letting the plate he had been scrubbing back down into the sudsy water. He heard the rustling of a newspaper being turned behind him, before he heard Fugu, Thatch’s sous chef cleared his throat, “Keep washing, Commander, you still got a lot to go through,”

Ace grumbled lowly, fishing the plate back from the water - and cringing when he felt remnants of food brushing against his hand - before picking up a sponge to continued on with his washing and tried his best not to glance to his side, to see the stack of dirty plates that he has to wash today before dinner starts. It usually took more than 1 person to do all of this, but evidently, his ‘punishment’ means no one gets to help him.

He stopped again after 10 plates, putting the newly washed plate away and inspecting his hands, to find his fingers wrinkled beyond belief, “My hands hurts, can’t i just take a short break?”

Fugu only turned the newspaper again, sniffing, “There’s a pair of gloves you can use somewhere,” he didn’t say anything else, making Ace sigh again and warily picked another dirty plate.

The chore has slowly became mind-numbing - and a murder to his feet and hands - so Ace let his sight and mind wander, inspecting the area of the kitchen he was in, and eventually reaching the windows that overlooked the outside deck. Several of the kitchen hands were lounging about, their usual duty being taken over by Ace and giving them nothing to do until later that day, when dinner was to be prepared. They chatted and laughed amongst themselves, but Ace’s attention was soon stolen away from them when a flash of blue and yellow darts on the sky, gliding from one side of Moby to the other, the landing and destination obstructed by the walls.

It reminded Ace that he hadn’t even seen Marco once after they had all returned to Moby.

In fact, he hadn’t seen him since the morning he woke up in that island. Haruta had been the one who did woke up him, telling him that they’re going to set sail soon, and it had surprised Ace to find that he was lying on the bed where Marco was supposed to be, only the man was not there and he was all by himself. He ran out, excited if only slightly confused and hurt about not being woken up, but he could hardly find Marco. In fact, he wouldn’t have found him had Namur not told him that Marco flew away by himself, saying that he needs to go back first to report back to Pops.

Ace pushed away the slowly growing hurt in his chest and sail away on Striker, purposefully keeping his distance away from the rest of the ships and going full speed back. Marco’s a busy man, so it is understandable that he puts his work first, right?

He could’ve at least woke him up and tell him he’s okay though. Ace had stayed up all night worrying.

But the moment he arrived on board of Moby, instead of being able to find the older man, he ended up getting quite the earful. More than an earful, considering how hard and how much Izou pinched his ears and whacked his head with the wooden wide of his fan, and how much Thatch was alternating between berating and blubbering to his ears, all the while hugging him tightly and crying tears of worry that it actually made Ace feel guilty. And that was not counting the way Fossa and several shipwrights were glaring at him, having him knelt down and prostrated himself to apologize to them for the extra work due to the destruction he had caused to his room and the surrounding. 

After everyone was done with giving him a piece of their mind - even Masked Deuce, who only glared chillingly at him in silence for 5 minutes straight and yet still succeeded in fishing out several apologies out of him - they all decided that he was given a series of chores as his punishment for a couple of weeks for different divisions, to teach him a lesson for ‘not listening to people’. Thatch’s had gotten the first turn, and since he would never ever let Ace near his cooking while they’re still in the middle of prepping, he was tasked with doing the dishes for the entire day, all by himself. 

It hadn’t seem like a very big thing to do until he saw just how many plates he had to go through. 

After the entire fanfare of his return died down, Ace found that Marco was missing amongst the group of commanders that surrounded him. Jozu told him he was summoned by Pops upon his return, and has yet to emerge since. The young commander had to remind himself then that he was no longer under the influence of the Truth-Truth Fruit, and thus, he could keep his disappointment to himself. Judging by the look of pity and the shoulder pat he was given, he didn’t do a good job on that.

Thatch then pulled him away so that he can start with his chores, giving Ace no time to wait up so he can at least talk to Marco. He half expected to be visited, but it has been hours and he’s already halfway done with his washing, but Marco has yet to come or even pop by.

Ace knows he shouldn’t be so disappointed by it, because he knows the First Division Commander probably has a lot to do upon his return, but he can’t help it. He’s worried, and when he’s worried, his mind wanders, as the fruit clearly showed him.

Could it be that he was also pissed off after he found out what Ace had done to chase after him? He would’ve scolded him like everyone else, then, right? Marco doesn’t seem to be one for cold shoulders, at least, he never did so to Ace. There’s no one else in this entire ship who is as good as him when it comes to nagging him about being reckless and lacking in tact, and he certainly never missed a chance in letting his opinion about it known to Ace.

So why isn’t he there? Why didn’t he at least come over? Surely he must’ve known that Ace was back and surely he must’ve heard or seen what he had done to the ship.

If he didn’t know any better, Ace would’ve think Marco was purposefully avoiding him.

“Ugh, asshole,”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me, Commander, i’m just doing what i’m told,”

“No, not you, Fugu,”

Maybe he should give Marco a visit later, once he was done with this whole ‘punishment’ for the day.

‘Later’ turns out to be in the middle of the night and in complete accident, because as it turns out, his punishment means he had to wash the same amount of dishes again after dinner - if he had known, he wouldn’t have eaten so much, or would’ve at least used the same plate over and over - and came back to his room so late only to find that it was still burned beyond belief. Fossa told him that he can’t start fixing him room until they land somewhere and get materials for it, and when he asked where he can sleep for the night when his bed is destroyed, had only grunted and say, “Should’ve thought of that before you blew the entire thing up,”

So Ace found himself in front of Marco’s quarters, one hand poised to knock and the other hidden behind him, nervously fiddling. He let his knuckles tapped against the wood twice before waiting, tapping his foot gently on to the floor.

He didn’t have to wait long until the door was opened and Marco peeked from behind it, shirtless and properly mussed up, as if Ace had woken him up. His half-lidded eyes opened a fraction once he realized who was on the other side of the door, “O-oh, Ace,” he muttered, sounding surprised. 

Ace briefly felt guilty at the sleepiness in the man’s voice, but it loses against the need for somewhere to sleep for the night, “I uh, i don’t have a bed anymore, at least not until we land and my room is fixed. Can i stay over?”

After everything that has happened the last few days, after staying in this room for a few nights with Marco’s permission and even insistence, Ace didn’t expect the few seconds of silence and reluctance in Marco’s face at his request. He also didn’t expect the little twinge of hurt in his chest, so the moment they appeared, he shook his head, and quickly said, “N-never mind. I’ll go to the barracks and sleep—“

“No, wait,” Marco’s voice cuts him off, and Ace watched as he opened the door a little wider, giving him enough space to walk inside. He took the silent invitation, but not without some level of hesitation.

Stepping into the room, the first thing Ace noticed was that the bed only had a small patch of it ruffled, which means that either Marco slept sitting up or he hadn’t been sleeping the entire time and had only been sitting on the edge of it for some unknown reason. Then again, the last time he saw Marco actually sleeping here was also on a chair, so with a small grin and a joking voice, he said, “Did i sleep over and used your bed so much you’ve started to get used to sleeping in a sitting position?”

He expected Marco to give him any sort of reply, maybe a denial or going along with what he said, but instead, there was only silence that greeted Ace. The door clicked shut behind him, with Marco still standing in front of it unmoving, one of his hand even still holding on to the door handle. The blonde man was facing away from his nightly guest, face shadowed and hidden from view that Ace didn’t know what to make of it.

The silence was awkward, tense, and uncertain. Then Marco broke it, exhaling lightly, “You shouldn’t have done that,”

“Done what?”

“Chase after me, even after everyone else told you not to,” he’s still not looking at Ace, and his voice was calm, flat, he didn’t really know what to make of it, “That Vice Admiral was one of the candidates for the rank of Admirals should Sengoku retires and one of the current Admirals replaced him. He was a dangerous man hellbent on taking down Pops, and i knew i couldn’t let him escape this island no matter the cost,” he sighed and turned his head slightly to the side, enough to see that he had his lips pulled into a thin line, “I wished you hadn’t gotten involved in it,”

“Of course i’m going to,” the raven haired male hissed immediately, temper flaring easily, “No one knows what happened to you! I can’t just stay back and do nothing knowing that anything could’ve happened,”

Marco didn’t reply, nor did he finally turn to face Ace. 

The younger crossed his arms, moving his gaze over to the partly disturbed sheets on the bed, taking several deep breath when the anger in him slowly melts away to become melancholy, “I was worried,” he replied, voice soft, “I went stir crazy not knowing what happened to you and i was scared knowing that you were captured. I can’t… I refuse to let you die like that! You can’t die yet. Not when i just told you…,”

The comment hanged in the air between them, but then Marco suddenly turned around, face slack. It was then Ace knew Marco already understood what he meant.

It quickly changed into one that seems troubled, staring up at Ace with weariness, “Do you… did you really say that? Did you really mean that?”

If he could, Ace felt like hitting himself in the head for never noticing. There’s desperation mingled with hope in Marco’s voice, sounding so fragile Ace felt like he could break this man by just giving him the wrong answer right now. He remembered the stories he overheard, he thought of their moments together, of every single time Marco had been there for him. In that moment, he felt like his chest could burst, and he gave in to the impulse by finally letting out the words that finally described everything perfectly, that described his attitude, his emotions, his feelings, everything he had for the man below him even before he himself even realized it. 

Ace strode forward, his steps confident and full of conviction, full with the need to assure this man in front of him, the man whose hands he reached for and held in his as he uttered the words that he knew came from the bottom of his heart, even without needing the damned devil fruit that landed him in so many trouble and yet allowed him to see clearly, “I love you,” he felt Marco took in a shuddering breath, “And even without the fruit in my system, i know that i meant every word,”

The younger leaned forward, and suddenly there was nothing in his sight and mind but Marco, the shine in his eyes and how the way Marco was looking at him made Ace thought that he was the only person in the entire world, that he gained Marco’s entire focus and become his entire world, “So please, be honest with me. Do you love me?”

His answer didn’t come in the form of words, but it was an answer nonetheless, like nothing else.

He had never kissed anyone in his life, not in this way, but he knows to pucker his lips slightly and tilting his head just enough to avoid bumping their noses together. Marco’s lips was very chapped, probably from the week of hiding out in the forest, but Ace kept pressing closer, parting his lips only to purse them again. If his approach was tentative and unsure, Marco’s was flexible and obviously moving in a way of someone who knows what they’re doing. 

Ace felt his lower lips nipped gently before Marco tilted his head further and suddenly their kiss were deepened, making him sigh and complacent to the subtle nudging to open his mouth. He half expected a tongue to moved inside of his mouth - as he had seen it happen sometimes - and braced himself, only for Marco to stop moving and push himself back as much as he could.

Still in daze, Ace blinked, and found himself staring at Marco smiling up at him with a look that was a mixture of amusement and affection.

Their next kiss was longer than before, hot and heavy that sends Ace out of breath in the middle of it and feeling like he had lit fire inside of his own chest. He felt hands that could ignite harmless fire burn along his sides, a touch so heated it made him moan from the unknown sensation. Not to be outdone, he placed his hands on Marco’s chest, partly to support himself and to allow himself to touch the older, unknowingly coming back to the same spot where Marco’s arm was severed and squeezing as if he was trying to make sure it was there.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and after so long, Ace’s lungs finally can’t take it. He unlatched himself, gasping in for the air he was lacking, and in the middle of trying to do so, heard Marco chuckling at him. He glared, pouting slightly - because his lips felt bruised enough that he barely need to put in the effort - which only seems to make the man laugh even more.

As Marco’s laughter finally subsided, they were left staring at each other again, stormy grey against sky blue. 

“I love you so much it hurts,”

The next day, it was to a hand playing with his hair that Ace slowly woke up, crinkling his nose in annoyance and would’ve reflexively slapped the hand away for disturbing his rest before the event from before he fell asleep finally registered in his mind that someone was lying next to him. With a sigh, he let the hand move wherever it wanted, feeling it lightly dance around his skin until it settled on the back of his head.

The hand then slid down to his shoulder, and it climbed back up, framing the side of his freckled cheeks in a gentle touch. Ace opened his eyes, peering almost shyly to the eyes looking down at him.

Marco’s lips parted slightly, making a small, wet smacking sound, “I thought you were my last dying dream, or something,” he murmured, “It would’ve been one hell of a way to go,”

Ace wanted to berate him for even daring to mention about dying, but in the end, he was only left speechless. Chasing after Marco made him forgot that he almost lost him in the first place, and as heavy relief that poured down the middle of his chest made it hard to breathe, and it felt too much like the choking grip the bastard marine who hurts Marco had him in before, “Bastard, don’t say that,” he managed to choked out, placing one hand over the larger one on the side of his face, carding his fingers through the space between Marco’s own and curling them around said hand. 

The hand he was holding curled itself as well, clasping his fingers in a warm hold. Marco’s smile slowly dimmed down, and he moved his appendage lower from Ace’s cheek - yet never letting go of his fingers - to the crook of his neck, caressing the skin there. Though Ace’s eyes were still watching Marco instead of following their joined hands’ movement, he knows what Marco saw: the thick bandaging that one of the crew member had given him back on the island, covering the blooming bruises in the form of large fingerprints enveloping previously unmarred skin.

Without breaking their joined hands, Ace shifted to move closer, knowing that Marco’s eyes where watching him in an almost curious manner when the younger leaned down and laid his head down against his chest again.

“Does it still feel like a dream?”

With his ear against Marco’s chest, Ace could hear his heart stuttering, and that caused a flutter inside of his own chest as well, “If it is, i hope i never wake up,”

[END]

Chapter Text

“This is cheating,”

“I’m not playing,”

“I don’t care, this is still cheating,”

Marco would’ve argued further, but he saw Ace’s finger moving on his periphery, slowly and indecisively choosing in between cards he held in his hand before he finally decided on one. He tapped on the card and looked up to him from where he laid his head on the blonde’s shoulder, eyes wide, eager and hopeful, “This one?” he asked, and with a small smile, Marco gave his surrounding a quick glance, noting Thatch’s still disgruntled face, to Vista shaking his head despondently as he folded his cards, to Kingdew silently arguing with Atmos about which card to throw away next.

He turned back to Ace’s stormy grey orbs, giving the younger a lopsided smile, “Go ahead,”

Ace grinned back, picking the card between two fingers before he paused and turned back, grin turning mischievous, “A good luck kiss first?”

“You don’t need good luck, Marco’s been helping you win 15 hands in a row!”

Thatch’s complaint, like so many before was ignored, and Marco barely resisted as Ace leaned up to press their lips together. There’s giggling from the side, probably from Haruta, when Ace shifted even further on his lap to throw away the card he had pointed earlier and was given a new one by Rakuyo, who acted as the dealer for the night’s round. Ace picked it up, and Marco only had to look at Ace’s face to know that he pulled a good one. The kid really need to work on his poker face.

Evidently, he wasn’t the only one paying attention, because to his side, Blamenco groaned, putting his cards face down and murmuring sombrely, “I fold too,”

“Oh, come on!” Thatch exclaimed, desperately staring at his card as if it would magically make whatever it is become better, before he finally put it down as well, “Urgh, fine, i fold,” 

They all revealed their hands, and it was probably a good thing that all of them folded because Ace’s card was indeed the highest out of all of them. The young commander collected his winning bet with a happy cackle, ignoring the groans from the other contestants around the table. The amount of belli he had amassed on his side of the table was higher than the rest combined, and those who realized this eventually left to be replaced with other daredevils who wanted to challenge Moby’s latest poker champion.

Not Thatch, though, Thatch was still sitting on his chair sullenly, “Okay, now do a round without Marco’s help,”

“I’m not helping him,”

“You literally just told him which card to throw away!”

“I didn’t, i just told him to go on ahead with it if he wanted to, Ace’s still the one playing,”

Whatever complain the chef would say next was interrupted by Rakuyo dealing the cards, and once the final one was given out, he immediately exclaimed loudly, “Ha! Not even Marco can beat this hand, come on, do your worst, lovebirds,”

Ace snorted at his enthusiasm, but he placed one hand on Marco’s thigh and his finger started moving to make a stuttered and awkwardly worded sentence, using the language he had only started learning for the past weeks.

‘I give up?’

Somewhere behind them, Marco could hear Jozu scoffing, and he already suspected the man to have figured out their little under the table communication. He only chuckled, wrapping both arms around Ace’s waist and nuzzling his nose against the crook of his neck, while letting one hand slide down on the younger’s naked waist to write down a simple and short ‘No’.

Ace giggled, though if it was from glee over being able to win again or from the tickling along his skin, Marco could not tell. 

Being able to be so close like this still felt unreal to Marco, despite how many days have passed since they decided they want a serious romantic relationship with each other and how many nights Ace had spent in his bed. They didn’t let people know immediately afterwards, but it was rather telling to most when after Fossa and the shipwrights had painstakingly fixed Ace’s bedroom, it was still left empty and unused. The commander had grumbled about wasting his precious time fixing the entire room only to have it being made into a storage again, but nonetheless congratulate them. 

Getting together means there’s no big change between their interaction as a whole, but it was the subtle changes that made all the differences. They’re not joined to the hips, and sometimes still kept their distance out of respect to everyone else during formal meetings and anything less than a relaxing time like parties and breaks, and during those times, they’d gravitate to each other like it was the most normal thing to do. Ace was still reckless so there is still a need for Marco to scold and berate him, but these would result in a tender moment at night in the privacy of their room, where Ace would express his regret and Marco telling him that he was worried.

At Ace’s request as well, he began to open up about stories from his past and hear more about Ace’s life as a child back in an island in East Blue, something feeling amused or horrified by his upbringing, and understood a bit more about how he was shaped to the person he is now. He mourned a little boy that died a long time ago and he never met, whose memory will always be alive in Ace, and he would chuckle and feel some semblance of pride when he found a strawhat wearing boy’s grinning face being included in the new batch of wanted posters that month.

He slightly regretted telling Ace about it, though, because it took weeks for him to be able to convince the younger that as proud as he is for his brother, no one wanted to see the walls in Moby being plastered with Strawhat Luffy’s wanted poster. And certainly no one needed to have at least one copy of said wanted poster as well, so please stop giving them out to everyone you come across.

But as Ace shared more of his life, it was only fair that Marco shared his. After he began teaching the basics of his language, he told of the fate and end of the tribe that used it beforehand, in which he was the only survivor. He shared about a pretty normal life growing up in a secluded island, fearful of the outside world and the unknown, until the day he came across a weird looking fruit while venturing the forest and decided to eat it out of curiosity. As a young naive child, he saw no wrong in showing the elders that he can make funny blue flames and change his body to that of an avian, which only resulted in him being captured, sentenced and punished severely, until they found out that he couldn’t die or even be injured by all swords and axe.

It will be a long, long time that he spent inside of a small confined space, left there in hope that he’d starve and die, out of sight and out of mind. There are still some brave men who thought they can kill off ‘the little devil’, and that was the most interaction with human he had during those long torturous times of his life until a lost pirate found his way to the island. 

They had wanted to kill the pirate as well, with how unwelcoming they are to any newcomer, but the big, muscled man defeated all of them with a power that can shake the earth itself. The village was destroyed, leaving no survivors but those who were also prisoners of the tribe, and just before the pirate left, he came across the corrupt elder who ordered for his murder and kill him. Before leaving, he had snuck around the dead man’s belonging, searching for any loot to keep when he came across a battered child with several weapons sticking out of him, yet no blood or injury evident around him.

Ace held him a little bit tighter that night, whispering repeatedly how glad he was that Marco is still here because of Pops, and in return, Marco would tell him that he is glad that he had a wonderful and strong woman as a mother. 

Telling such a horrifying past should not be a mood-setter for intimacy, and yet that was the very same night that they made love for the first time, Ace unwilling to let him go and Marco with no intention to slip away from the comforting embrace he was cocooned in. It had been mind blowing, passionate, and loving, and as Marco held Ace’s trembling form, whispering ‘i love you’s to each other, nothing felt like it can be as perfect as that moment.

Above him, Ace let out a little gasp, squirming a little on his lap. Marco quirked a brow at the steadily rising flush across his freckled cheeks, until he realized that oops, maybe reminiscing about that night right about now is not a good idea. 

He pressed a little kiss to the side of Ace’s temple, taking a discreet peek at the cards on his hands - he has a pretty good hand right now, who said Ace needs his help all the time to win? - and tracing a quick and abbreviated ‘sorry’ to the side of the quivering hips. For a while, Ace didn’t answer back, and Marco has to wonder if he forgot what that particular word meant again - memorizing a completely new language and their lexicon hadn’t come easy to Ace - until he felt the logia user shifted, enough to nestle his half-formed arousal in between round, soft globes.

It was Marco’s turn to give a hitching breath, his hand clutching Ace’s waist tightly as he buried his forehead on the younger’s nape. He squeezed the narrow waist again when Ace purposefully bounced, looking to all like he was just shifting on his seat when really he was sitting right on top of Marco’s erection.

’Stop’ he traced down the raven’s side, pinching slightly at the end of the tracing. 

Ace only laughed and leaned back against his chest, giving him a full display of his cards. Marco widened his eyes, glancing at Ace’s smug grin and looked back down at the card in disbelief. ‘Nice’ he write down again on Ace’s naked skin, smiling as he felt soft kisses on the side of his stubbly jaw. The other players were still contemplating their cards, with Curiel being involved in a hot debate with Rakuyo about pulling his bet back because he mistook a stain on his card to make it look like something else.

With most of the room’s attention being on the two, Marco leaned down - carefully pressing Ace’s card down on his lap to avoid showing it accidentally - and pressed a kiss to the younger’s lips. Their angle made it slightly awkward so Ace turned his body slightly, turning him sideways on Marco’s lap and allowing him to also looped both arms around the older’s shoulder to pull him down to a better kiss.

‘“I love you,” Ace murmured, the only one sentence in Marco’s long forgotten language he seems to be able to say with the correct pronunciation and accent, and since the first time he showed this particular skill, it never ceased to make the blonde’s heart to flip and flutter inside of his chest. The language and its origin were something he’d rather forget in all honesty, but that it can be made into something he only shared with Ace, their own secret little language, truly made it into something wonderful in his mind.

“And i to you,” he whispered just as lowly, the tip of his nose brushing against Ace’s own as they engaged each other in another lip lock. 

Ace’s hesitation when it comes to kisses was gone nowadays, thought there were still times where he was shy in his approach, especially when he was the one who started it. Marco found that he’s a very active kisser, always moving, nipping and even biting at times so he allows it, even if it sometimes means their kiss will be messy indeed. They’d have time to work on Ace’s finesse, he supposed, just like now.

“Hey! Hey, lovebirds! Get a room! Or better yet, finish this round!”

Thatch’s shout made them broke their kiss, with Ace still breathing heavily and Marco blinking hard to remove the fogginess from his eyes. On the table, the other players had already laid their cards out, Curiel almost sobbing with his measly two pairs and Namur scowling at the direction of Thatch’s hand, which turns out to be a straight flush. It made sense why the chef sounded so cocky, “Come on, you can make out some more after i beat you and get my money back,”

True enough, whatever had transpired before seems to have lead to all 3 of them to go all in, with all of their belli being stacked near Rakuyo. Everyone’s eyes were on them - with Haruta even squeeing on the background - expectantly waiting on Ace to reveal his hand.

On his lap, Ace turned to face him briefly, before smirking and using one hand to push all of the money he had collected the entire night to the dealer’s direction. Thatch’s smug expression began to falter, especially when Ace took his card from his other hand and threw it down on the table.

The cards slides to the table haphazardly but all facing up, in order from 10 to King, and in the middle of them, bearing the print of Whitebeard’s mark is the ace of spades.

“Royal Flush,” Ace haughtily announced, “Sorry, Thatch, those are my money now,”

Damn, if that voice and that increasingly superior and victorious look on his face didn’t make Marco’s erection even harder.

“Nope, not now,” he said, not even bothering to hide the urgency in his voice as he lifted Ace up effortlessly in a princess carry, making the young commander yelp and probably startling those behind them, “Rakuyo, hold on to his winnings, he’ll pick it up tomorrow. Somebody can take this seat,”

“But Marco—“ whatever protest Ace might had suddenly died down, particularly when his body slid down low enough that he can probably feel the undeniable hardness against his waist. He then snickered out loud, probably giving away any discreetness that Marco hadn’t killed off yet, and looped his arms around Marco’s shoulders again for a more secure hold, “Yeah, i’ll pick those up tomorrow. I got some other winnings to collect tonight,”

They exited with a mix chorus of boos and screams over ‘TMIs’, which was what their moments of affection together was often met with these days. It was vastly different than the cooing and awes they were met with the first few days they made it official, and Marco didn’t know which one he preferred better.

As they stumbled their way out of the dining hall, half kissing and half giggling between themselves, Marco found he also could care less about that right now.

Back in the dining area, upon the couple’s exits, Thatch let out a grieving howl as Rakuyo silently collected the large pile of money into one big bag, mentally noting to give it away to Ace the following day. Or maybe the day after that. Whenever it is that he can emerge from the bedroom without complaining about sore back and hips for the rest of the day.

“New rules for poker nights!” the sorrowful chef announced, his voice drowning Izou’s flat ‘oh grow up, you sore loser’ from behind him, “No sitting on people’s lap and no helping people out! We all banned Marco from poker nights years ago because he kept winning, there’s no point in keeping that ban up if he’ll play with Ace as a proxy,”

“But he really wasn’t helping him tonight,”

The auburn haired chef aimed a glare at Jozu, who spoke up, “Yeah right, as if i didn’t see all those hand movement under the table. They’re not that slick, the bastards,” he bit his lower lips, sighing while watching the large bag and the metallic clacking sound they made as Rakuyo dropped them to the ground. All of his money saved up for this month is there, he won’t have enough to spend on their next destination. And their next destination is supposedly a really good port with nice bars and good looking maids.

The corners of Jozu’s lips twitched upward as he gazed to the now empty chair, “No, those hand movements weren’t any tricks or anything related to your card game, i can assure you,”

Thatch frowned at his words, even more as the paramecia’s smile grew a bit more with every passing second. Then as revelation dawned on him, he made a horrified face, loudly making a gagging noise even if deep down, he wasn’t all that surprised. He was truly happy for them, saw how happy this new relationship made for them, and to be honest, if the whole kissing thing didn’t happen all that often, he won’t mind them that much.

But there is a difference between feeling some semblance of warmth in your chest watching your brothers happy, and knowing they did things under the table while you were all watching. So that’s why Marco was suddenly so insistent about leaving. And oh lord, he probably hadn’t been imagining the tent he thought he saw on the blond’s pants as well.

The fact that maybe he, and practically everyone else, came to the wrong conclusion from Jozu’s words didn’t even enter his mind at all. 

From the middle of the crowd, Jiru, who had moved forward to take over the place Ace and Marco had vacated suddenly stopped on his tracks and glanced sadly at the seat, “I think i’ll play standing up then,” he said solemnly, clutching his bag of money on his side, “I am not sitting on that seat until someone disinfect it 100 times,”