Ace stood on the crowded deck of the Moby Dick, watching in awe with the rest of his crewmates as their first commander flew off the ship's figurehead in a blaze of bright blue flames. Other than the moon, he was the only light illuminating the deck. It was a tradition of sorts; the captain's most trusted commander would leave the ship for some mission or another every once in a while and they would all gather on the deck to watch him circle the ship three times before flying off in a flurry of beautiful blue flames tipped with gentle orange. It had been a windy night, making him look all the more beautiful with the wild flames licking at his skin before he turned into a phoenix completely, but the danger in his appearance was there for everyone to observe. He wasn't actually dangerous for his crewmates, but an enemy would be condemned upon witnessing the first bout of flickering blue. All eyes were fixated on the fire as it glided away, brightening it's way, outshining every single star that decorated the clear night sky.
In all honesty, there wasn't a single member of the crew that hadn't seen the Phoenix in all it's glory already, but they all congregated on the deck every single time nonetheless. After the first mate's departure, lanterns would be lighted all over the deck and a party started, to the utmost amusement of their captain (therefore also to the utmost horror of his nurses).
Ace lingered by the railing a bit longer, tuning out the ruckus behind him to observe the night sky and the fading blue light on the verge of disappearance. In the comfort of his secluded piece of the deck, he could admit to himself that he really liked Marco beyond a simple brotherly love. It had vexed him, this infatuation he felt; fear of his father's and his family's disapproval had haunted him. They would be disgusted by him, for sure. Yet, it took a simple slip of the tongue from Thatch to ease his mind and give him hope. They had been on shore leave only a day ago and Ace was in the company of the other commanders, including Thatch who had a nagging habit of getting drunk on every occasion. Ace, as always, got stuck dragging his friend's semi-conscious form back to the ship at an ungodly time of night and at one point seriously contemplated leaving him in a ditch to sleep it off, but couldn't in the end. It had paid off, though, as Thatch found his voice and engaged in a lengthy monologue about birds, lighting someone's fire and the beauty of one or another orifice in connection to Marco and Ace himself. Trying to make sense of a drunken man's rambling was a challenge for another day so Ace pressed until Thatch had given in and told him a secret that "Ace can never ever ever find out". Namely, that Marco liked Ace in a non-brotherly way as well.
With a renewed bounce in his step, Ace had dumped Thatch somewhere on the ship and managed to sleep only due to his narcolepsy; after all, being on the same ship with a man he liked that liked him back was giving him ideas he couldn't even begin to explain. So waiting patiently for the object of his turbulent thoughts to leave, Ace found himself against the railing, the Phoenix out of sight. He wasn't one to think of himself as a scheming person and he'd jump at what he wanted straightforwardly; but this was a situation that even he could see required some planning and subtlety. He would be as subtle as he could even when he needed the help of the least subtle person aboard the Moby Dick. Stepping away from the railing now that the Phoenix was out of sight, but never out of mind, he walked through the mass of people drinking on the deck. It never ceased to amaze him how big the crew was, completely different from his selected few crewmembers of his Spade pirates.
Even in a crowd such as the one on the deck of Whitebeard's flag ship, spotting Izo was an easy task. The man, after all, wore a pink kimono and more makeup than most women use in a month. It also helped that he sat next to Thatch whose hair stood out like a beacon; Ace half expected it to light the way for him. He moved across the deck, members of his own division as well as the others patted his back in passing, saying their hellos or simply stepped aside for him to pass. A bottle of some sort of booze found it's way into his hand and he was compelled to stay with his division for a while longer. He wasn't in a hurry, anyway, he was confident Izo would help him and there was plenty of time before Marco's return. Well, it was only two days, but Ace had a lot of faith in Izo's matchmaking methods and abilities. The man could, in fact, work wonders with less than what he'd have with this case.
Well over half an hour and what seemed to be a boatload of alcohol later, Ace was finally seated next to Izo. He established that Thatch didn't remember his blunder from the previous night, so it was important to keep the impending conversation with Izo private. Unlike Thatch, Izo was the best at keeping secrets, mainly other people's because it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from him; for example, he was the only one that knew Ace's secret regarding Marco. Ace didn't dare think what else his fellow commander might know about the rest of their family. Ace leaned closer to him so the other could hear him over the sounds of festivities around them.
"You still sober?" he asked.
"Sober enough," Izo replied. "What is it?"
Ace's face split into a grin he somehow successfully suppressed for the last 24 hours.
"Someone..." he nodded in Thatch's general direction, "told me that a certain birdie likes me." The excited grin was replaced by a lecherous one in a matter of seconds; one that was soon mirrored on the okama's face.
"How did you not know about it, anyway?" Ace asked with genuine interest. "You always know everything."
"I was pretty sure of it," he said with a smile. "But Marco's not like all of you, he can actually keep his mouth shut."
Ace pouted at the insult and Izo couldn't help but laugh. "So, what are you going to do about it?" he continued after subduing his laughter.
"Well..." Ace started. "I need your help. What would you do?"
Izo lifted an eyebrow at that and smiled suggestively. "What I would do might be a bit too explicit for your innocent ears," he said and after a pause, that might have slightly disturbed Ace for a moment, continued "but I think I know what you could do." Both their faces were beaming, Ace for obvious reasons and Izo because he was sure both his friends could end up happy if he plays this right.
Before Ace could say anything at all, Izo cupped his chin in thought and mumbled only loud enough for Ace to hear, but not really understand. "He left that silk sash behind...it's his favourite...and I still have the camera...yes!" Izo's grin widened as he looked at Ace again.
Ace couldn't make sense of his friend's line of thought, but he had a somewhat bad feeling about it. "A... camera?" Ace asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. Maybe going to Izo for help wasn't such a good idea.
"Don't worry your pretty little head with that, dear, and leave everything to me," Izo went as far as to pat him on the head like a puppy. "Just meet me in front of Marco's room during lunch."
"During lunch?" Ace blanched. "But, Izo, I have to eat," he whined, to hell with dignity when someone is denying him food.
"You want me to help or not?" Izo looked at him with a stern face and Ace knew this was a lost battle so he simply nodded. Reap what you sow and all that.
Narcolepsy was once again Ace's saving grace; this time, it wasn't purely excitement that would have kept him awake, but also the dread in his gut. Izo was his friend, but the man had weird ideas sometimes. Ace didn't really know what his plan was this time, but something about that camera didn't sit well with him. In the end, the will to live without regrets won over. If he at least didn't try to win Marco's affections, that would be the biggest regret of his life.
Waking up wasn't a problem, but the fact that it had been past breakfast was something that he just couldn't live down. Especially considering he wouldn't be able to eat lunch with the crew. He stepped out onto the deck to stretch in the morning sun before sneaking into the galley to get some food. He was lucky to be so charismatic, the cooks gave him extra food on normal days, who knows how much he might get when he'd missed breakfast.
He was sitting in the empty dining hall with his mountain of food, mulling over what kind of plan Izo might have. He might have admitted that he felt slight regret that he hadn't asked what they were going to do. The food was gone in a heartbeat and he found himself nervous and bored. There was still an hour before lunch and he strolled around the ship with questions invading his mind. Why during lunch? Why a camera? What about the sash? Are people not supposed to see them? What are they going to do outside Marco's room?
Ace blinked and noticed he had reached the deck; it was sunny outside and he could only see a few crewmembers here and there. With a sigh, he walked over to the railing, barely registering that he instinctively went to the spot he occupied when Marco was leaving, and sat down. The warmth of the sun and the soft breeze lulled him into unconsciousness, the only sound reaching him was the gentle crashing of waves into the ship's hull.
The call for lunch resonating through the ship woke him from his nap. He was feeling hungry, but invoking Izo's wrath wasn't on his itinerary so without further ado, but with a clenching of his gut, he walked past the kitchen and into the depths of the ship.
Marco was a commander of the first division and the first mate; a position that gave him the right to the second biggest room on the ship. Ace stood in the hall, looking at the wooden door. He wasn't sure what in the hell he was doing there in the first place, but yet again decided to give Izo the benefit of a doubt. An uncomfortable nervous feeling was coming over him as he paced in the hall, stopped only by a loud opening of a door. The door. The door to Marco's room.
The initial shock washed away as he realized Izo was the one to open the door. From the inside.
"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Izo spoke. "Come in before someone sees us." He stepped aside and let Ace enter, locking the door behind him. He was faced with a camera perched on a tripod, pointing to the neat bed opposite the door.
"What are we doing here?" Ace whispered, afraid someone might hear them. He had never been a coward, but this felt extremely wrong. His gaze halted on a piece of familiar blue fabric on the pristine white sheets of the bed. "Izo, what is that?" Ace asked, pointing at the fabric.
"That, my dear, is what you'll be wearing," Izo replied with a smirk which grew into full blown laughter as Ace's face turned completely horrified.
With an exasperated sigh, Izo took Ace's hat off his head and placed it on the desk behind him. "You will strip, climb on that bed and wear that sash to hide your..." he motioned towards Ace's crotch. " ...family jewels."
"What good will that do, I'm not staying here like that until Marco comes back!" Ace screamed and Izo slapped a hand over his mouth to keep his hysterics under wraps.
"No, you're not." The smirk was back in place as Izo spoke. "I'm going to take pictures of you."
Ace stood frozen in place; if it had been possible, his jaw would have hit the floor. Pictures. He didn't think of that.
"Say what now?"
"Oh, you're already half naked all the time." Izo rolled his eyes and tugged at the orange belt Ace wore. "Just strip, pretty boy. You've got nothing I haven't seen before."
With no escape route or a better plan, Ace sighed and took his boots off. It still felt weird to strip in Marco's room without Marco being there, but Izo must have some kind of plan. "I still don't see what you're planning."
"You don't have to. Now, take those pants off, boy, don't make me tell you again. You'll get Marco with this, trust me."
That was the only encouragement he needed as he dropped his shorts to the wooden floor and moved to the bed.
"What do I do?" he asked with a grin plastered to his face.
Marco was gliding through the air, the setting sun behind him. This had been a short trip, but he felt home sick and the sight of the Moby Dick, rocking on the waves was most welcomed. With every flap off his fiery wings bringing him closer, the deck came into sight, dotted with lights nowhere near as bright as his own and people awaiting his return. A sight as that one never failed to make him smile, never mind the fact he couldn't actually smile with the phoenix's beak.
Waiting for him to return from these trips had also grown into a tradition; the ones left on the ship rarely had something to do or a reason to party. The Marines weren't dumb enough to attack Whitebeard's flag ship while Whitebeard himself was on board, neither were other pirates that managed to cross over into the New World.
Finally above the ship, Marco circled the main mast three times and observed the deck bellow. Crewmates shouted their hellos and waved at him, he could see barrels of alcohol, food and musicians spread across the deck. A party sounded just perfect.
He circled the ship, going lower and lower with each turn until his talons touched the figurehead from which he departed only two days ago. Blue flames disappeared with each step he took towards the crew and his captain, his human form revealed in a matter of five to ten steps. He wore black pants and a white t-shirt, something so different from his usual attire, that Thatch couldn't help but whistle at the first mate in the centre of attention.
Ace, on the other hand, couldn't rid himself of thoughts of defiling his fellow commander's favourite sash. If he wasn't fire, he'd think he might burn in hell for it, but the way things are, he'll just be thrown overboard. Upon seeing the most frequent object of his thoughts, Ace started developing mixed feelings about Izo's plan; a problem Izo himself didn't seem to have. And why should he? There was no way of Marco knowing about his involvement in what they did. He shook his head and joined the others. It was too late to change his mind, anyway. No regrets, right? Those jeans did make Marco's ass look great, he simply decided to focus on that and let things play out the way they want.
Marco was preoccupied with Thatch and his antics to notice how time flew by; the night was coming to an end by the time he dragged his exhausted body to his room. The soft bed was a sight for sore eyes and he simply dropped onto it, falling asleep immediately. There wasn't a place in the world where he slept better than on the Moby Dick.
The first bright lights of the sun woke Marco from his slumber. He might have been tired, but as first mate, he had a duty of setting a good example to the rest of the crew. Ignoring the lingering smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, he untangled himself from the sheets and stood up. Thanking his lucky star that his room had a window, he opened it and let the morning breeze erase the remnants of last night's party from the fairly big space. Turning his back to the window, he peeled off his once white shirt and glared with unhidden disgust at the unidentified spots he hadn't notice before going to bed. The shirt rendered unsalvageable was thrown to the floor and forgotten at once, Marco's attention turned to the pants he knew he'd struggle to get out off. He missed his regular clothes.
Finally free of the pants, Marco strode to the dresser, enjoying the breeze coming from the window. He found his clothes on top of the dresser, folded in a neat pile just like he left them. Removing the folded sash to the side, he grabbed the blue pants and slid them on with less effort than the other ones required. He stopped for a moment, contemplating whether he should just go to breakfast without bothering with a shirt; he wore it unbuttoned anyways. Deciding to save the last shred of decency, he gently grasped the sash and let it unfold in the breeze as he pulled it towards himself. He had begun tying it around his hips and only when he looked down did he notice a piece of paper on the floor. He finished with the sash and reached for the paper; the texture told him it was a photograph, but he hadn't turned it around right away, his attention on a marking in one of the corners. It simply said: 1/15
With a shrug, he turned the photo and promptly dropped it, his eyes wide for the first time in a while. He must be hallucinating. Marco picked the photo up again, this time with both hands just in case, back side still facing him and with a slower motion this time, turned it around.
He couldn't believe his eyes, the image before him too unbelievable to fathom. The man in the photo was sitting on his knees on a bed, Marco's bed, back turned towards the camera and face hidden with black hair, but his identity was unmistakable. It was Ace in all his naked glory; arms lifted and crossed with forearms resting on the top of his head, the muscles of his back stretched and Marco could swear they were rippling before his eyes. The tattoo of their captain's mark bathed in sunlight, the same light that caressed Ace's parted thighs on the tousled sheets; parted enough for Marco's imagination to start working overtime. The firm cheeks of Ace's ass were peeking out of the blue fabric draped around his hips. Marco could feel himself getting aroused at the sight of his naked crewmate beyond what simple words could describe, the image of his own sash touching the raven head's ass and, God, his cock too; it almost drew Marco over the edge.
"What the hell?" he mumbled, his hand subconsciously moved to the sash around his hips. It was always his favourite, he got it years ago and it was unique, hence recognizing it in the picture wasn't a difficult task. With that out of the way, the question of why the hell was Ace naked on his bed with that same sash while he was gone invaded his thoughts. Thinking of Ace like that made him turn his head towards the bed, his hand slipping from the sash to the front of his pants. The soft touch made him shudder, surprising him as if his hand moved on it's own.
Imagining Ace on his bed was easy, the picture in his hand left little to imagination. His eyes drawn to the photo again as his hand moved on it's own once more, stroking up and down. He was lost in thoughts, his control slipping for the first time since Ace joined the crew. The damn brat was constantly tempting, walking around the ship without a shirt. The fact Marco was able to control himself as long as he did spoke volumes about his self-control and now it was all gone with one simple photo.
Deciding to indulge himself just this once, he walked back to the bed. Just thinking of a naked Ace on that bed, various naked body parts touching the sheets, made Marco lose his cool. He tossed the picture to the sheets in front of him, to the spot where Ace himself was seated in the image, before he propped his left knee on the bed followed by his left elbow until his face was inches away from the photograph. With a sigh, he moved his right hand to undo the sash that quickly became more than just his favourite and gently placed it to his side. As he started at the picture, memorizing every detail as if it might disappear, his hand moved further and undid the button as well as the zipper. The breeze was cooling the heated skin of his chest and back as he moved the tips of his fingers past the waistband of his boxers. Jerking off to a crewmate was incredibly wrong and Marco was aware of that, but the longer he stared at the image before him, the weaker his will became.
Promising himself that this would be a one time only thing, he glided his hand into his boxers and groaned at the touch. Imagining that it was Ace's hand on him wasn't a difficult feat at the point he had reached. The image was vivid in his mind after he closed his eyes; he buried his face into the crease of his arm as he gripped himself with his right hand. The other hand clutched at the sheets under him as he started stroking himself with Ace's image on his mind. He sped up and groaned as he remembered the sight of blue fabric around his hips. Marco couldn't help but imagine stripping Ace of the only thing covering his otherwise nude frame nor could he stop wondering if his skin was softer than the blue cloth. He stifled a moan and clutched the sheet tighter, fuck, just the thought of the raven haired brat turned him on to no end. His movements sped up, the image in his head too much to handle. He pumped harder, the knuckles on his hand turned white from the iron grip he had on the sheet.
Marco bit his lower lip to stop himself from moaning out loud as he came, momentarily not caring that he stained his boxers. He was breathing hard, but hadn't moved from the position he was in. His hand retreated from the stained boxers while he steadied his breathing and only straightened his back when he could breathe normally. His gaze drifted back to the photograph on the bed and Marco felt a bout of shame come over him. For the millionth time since he woke up, he was aware how wrong all of that was. With another sigh, he took the photo from the bed without looking at it, but contemplating where he should hide it. Looking around his room, his gaze stopped at the desk and he opted for the easiest solution; placing it into one of his drawers before he figures out what to do with it.
He briskly walked to his desk, feeling like the picture was burning his hand as he held it. Without further thinking, he opened the top drawer and froze; there was another one. It's back was turned up and he couldn't see the actual picture, but he recognized the markings on the back. Only, this time it said 2/15. A depressing realization hit him as he picked up the picture.There can't be fifteen of them, can there? He groaned at the notion that he would go mad before finding all of them. What the hell was Ace thinking?!
Warily, he placed the first one in the drawer and pulled out the second one. He tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever was on it and only when he felt confident enough, he flipped it over. There was, of course, Ace. On his bed again, back still turned to the camera. He was propped on his knees, legs slightly parted as his hands stretched to the sides; each hand held one end of the sash, successfully draping it so it covered his ass. Luckily for Marco, it was fully covered on this image, but the raven head was still sexy beyond what he could handle at the moment. He tossed the picture into the drawer and closed it before the urge to look at it again came over him.
Marco, feeling utterly drained both physically and mentally, grabbed his shirt and a clean pair of boxers before making his way to the commander's bathroom; yet another perk of his position and he couldn't be more grateful in the state he was in. The walk down the hall was short and luckily undisturbed by other people; Marco was painfully aware of his soiled boxers and the reawakening of his libido. He entered the empty bathroom and locked the door behind him.
For a second time in the same morning, he stripped; the pants were okay, but the boxers need to be washed. Maybe even burned, as far as he was concerned, so no one knows what he had done. Like anyone could know about the pictures just from a pair of stained boxers, but then again, Marco was stripped of all rational thought for the day. He stepped into the shower and let the water spill over him, paying no mind to the temperature. His mind was swarming with thoughts; he was aware he should collect his wits before stepping outside and facing the crew. Some of those guys knew him all too well for his own good.
For once, Ace was not saved by his narcolepsy and he found himself on deck before most of the crew was up. Occupying his special spot by the railing, he watched how the sky brightened more and more, sounds from behind him making it clear that more people awakened. He heard footsteps approaching and couldn't help but wonder if it was Marco; he didn't really know what Izo did with the photos (and convinced himself that he rather not know), but he was certain that the blond would probably get a hold of them, one way or another.
"You're up early." It was Izo. Ace didn't know if he was happy about it or not. "Couldn't sleep?" Izo continued and Ace could practically hear a teasing grin.
The okama sat next to Ace, leaning his back on the railing, obviously not amused as he had thought he'd be since the younger commander was paying him no mind. Finally, after some minutes of silence, Ace turned and leaned his back on the railing as well, just in time to see Thatch approaching. He sat down without a word and turned his gaze in the direction he just came from. As if on cue, Marco stepped onto the deck and stretched his arms in the morning sun before scanning the deck. His eyes settled on the group of three and he smiled at them before, making his way to join. Ace, probably for the first time in his short life, felt nervous; the unknown usually held mystery and excitement for him, but this time it was frying his nerves. Even though his insides seemed to bubble, he smiled back and observed Izo from the corner of his eye. The man looked as casual as ever, nervous obviously didn't exist in his vocabulary.
Ace sighed before widening his grin and waving at Marco, who was only feet from them.
"Yo!" Ace said excitedly and the blond grinned. "How was the trip?"
"Boring as ever," he replied casually before sitting cross-legged next to Thatch. "Anything interesting happen here?" he asked no one in particular, glancing over all three of them.
While Thatch engaged in a lengthy recollection of the party after Marco's departure, Izo observed Ace and Marco. Ace was downright rolling on the floor from laughter at Thatch's tale, Marco snickering in a more subtle way and the okama was disappointed. Neither showed any signs of anything changing, but seeing as Marco wore his sash, Izo knew he had found at least one photo. Damn him and his amazing self-control; not to mention how he expected Ace to blurt something out. They have managed to take all the fun out of this for him.
"I'm staaaaaarving," Ace suddenly whined and was rewarded with laughter, but all four of the rose to their feet to head towards the dining room. The youngest of the group managed to sprint ahead, followed by laughter. He was consumed by nervousness, even more so because Marco showed no signs of any change. There was a long day ahead of him indeed.
Sitting next to Ace during breakfast was harder than Marco could have imagined; the younger male radiated warmth that had always been appealing to the blond, yet it only served to fuel his already smouldering attraction. The phoenix in him was drawn to fire in general, but Ace's fire was more than simple fire. It drew him in, overwhelmed his senses and, during breakfast on that specific day, added to his raging boner. The fact that he never wore a damn shirt didn't help him in the slightest. Not even Ace's habit of literally stuffing his face with anything food related on the table could revolt him and he had only had his own willpower to thank for managing to subdue his libido long enough to escape the dining room. They all had some business to attend to after breakfast so his hasty departure was not deemed suspicious. Opting for doing some work in the privacy of his room, Marco hastily made his way through the halls of the ship without stopping to speak to anyone.
The door to his room seemed like a safe haven when he finally reached it, wasting no time in opening it and ducking inside. Finally safe from Ace and his damn heat, he sighed in relief and sagged into the chair in front of the desk. Marco couldn't help but feel confused that Ace didn't do or say anything out of the ordinary, mainly concerning the photos. It wasn't like him to be sneaky and most of all subtle. Well, the pictures themselves were hardly subtle, but it was in Ace's personality to just jump head on into something he wants without thinking of possible consequences. So different from...
The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water; Ace didn't hide the photos, Izo did! The whole thing reeked of the damn okama, from the whole finding-pictures-of-your-naked-nakama game to the actual pictures. Ace was as subtle as a brick to the face, he'd probably just take a picture of his dick and leave it on Marco's pillow. No, definitely Izo and his meddling. This brought a whole bunch of new questions to light and the blond had no will to answer them; his forehead thumped on the notebook on his desk and he sighed. He was losing his mind. Or would soon enough, anyway. He lifted his head again and pulled the chair closer to the desk; work should keep his mind off a certain pair of damned raven-heads.
Marco took a few deep breaths and allowed for his usual calm to come over him before he reached for a pen. He opened the notebook in front of him and promptly jumped out of the chair, successfully knocking it over. Another damn picture. With the marking 7/15, Marco was more sure than ever that he'll be finding twelve more of those. He stood in front of the desk, contemplating whether to look at it or just drop it into the drawer with the first two. It would be good for his sanity if he didn't look, but the mere thought of what this one would look like sent all the blood downwards and away from his brain. With a fleeting thought about this being a temporary weakness, he leaned closer to the desk and steadied himself with his hand, just in case, before he flipped the rectangular paper over.
Marco's mind went blank and his already rock hard cock twitched in his pants; that damn brat would probably be the death of him. Cheeky little prick was sitting in Marco's chair sideways, one leg propped over an armrest while the other was outstretched before him. Of course his legs were parted, the fucking tease, but the sash was there to cover everything Marco wanted to see. Ace's back was arched against the backrest on the chair with his hands gripping at the top of the same backrest behind his head, elbows in the air. His head was tilted backwards, but Marco could see (or he might have simply imagined it) his lips were slightly parted. He barely registered that his knuckles turned white from clutching the desk as hard as he did nor did he notice how his mouth dried up. With a start, he noticed slight pain in his knuckles and released the desk, opting for running his hand through his hair.
With a pained grunt, he opened the drawer and tossed the picture where the others were. This was definitely putting a strain on his mental health. Instead of dwelling on how the pictures were multiplying at an alarming rate, he steeled his will once again (with a huge amount of effort to make his hard-on go away again) and turned to pick up his chair.
Another one lay on the floor and this one was facing him. He picked up the chair and sighed before picking up the photo, realizing that it was a lost battle, thought he looked at the back of the photo first.
It didn't really matter what number it was, he knew it couldn't end well for him either way, but he still looked. He felt like it gave him a choice, maybe not to look at a naked Ace and just store the photo in the drawer, yet he knew he would look at every single one. Sighing at his own sudden lack of discipline, he turned the damned photo and gasped.
Ace was sitting in the chair again, his back leaned against the back rest. His right elbow was propped on the armrest with his chin resting on his right hand. His left leg, however, was lifted on the chair with the left arm propped on the left knee. The other leg was stretched out in front of him and of course, the sash was ever present. But none of that made Marco gasp; it was the fact that Ace's face was turned to the camera, his eyes shining and the gentle smile gracing his face that took Marco's breath away. It was the first one that showed his face and the blond couldn't breathe because of the sight. The urge to reach out and touch Ace's freckles, trace the patterns on those cheeks with his fingers, was almost too hard to resist, but he knew the only thing under his fingers would be the cold surface of a photograph. Marco realized he was in love with a flashy loudmouthed brat.
Ace was restless. Breakfast was too fast and painfully slow at the same time, sitting next to Marco almost unbearable. Of course they always sat next to each other, but knowing that the older man liked him back made Ace want to jump out of his skin. Or at least pounce at Marco and molest him in the middle of the table. At least, he had to admit, that would have been more his style than doing whatever Izo did with his naughty pictures. He might have been adamant about striping and posing nude at first, but he had found that it didn't differ much from his usual half-naked appearance.
He was jittery and having nothing to do only made his nerves frazzle; resisting the temptation of simply walking to Marco's room and molesting him there was hard. Having Izo lurking around didn't help either. Noticing the okama in his vicinity yet again, Ace chucked his boot at him with amazing aim. Izo was startled for a moment before glaring menacingly in the laughing raven head's direction. He picked up the offensive boot with his thumb and index finger, as if it was the most disgusting object on the face of the Earth and briskly walked over to Ace. His glare was unchanging as he stopped in front of his fellow commander and promptly dropped the boot on his head.
Ace gathered his wits as Izo dropped to the floor in front of him.
"I hope you have a good reason for that little stunt, pretty boy." The okama still glared, but he could imagine what Ace wanted from him so his annoyance diminished.
"What did you do with the photos?" Ace asked. He was straightforward as always seeing as this wasn't a time for beating around the bush.
"Oh, that. Hid them around his room," Izo replied nonchalantly, as if they were discussing the weather then grinned as he continued. "You should see what I did with the one..."
"Izo!" Ace cut him off before the okama could say something incriminating. "I don't wanna know."
Izo pouted in his own weirdly cute way, but didn't try speaking more. He knew where he had stashed every single one of those pictures; it was fun for him, he hadn't done anything like that in a while. The only thing about the whole ordeal that wasn't fun was the lack of response from the two key players.
"He did find at least one so far," Izo said. "It's only a matter of time before he cracks."
Ace hummed in reply, there really wasn't much he could say on the matter. The bell signalling that lunch was ready came like a sign from the heavens to the young commander; he could never say no to food. He was up and running towards the dining hall in a heartbeat, not bothering with waiting for Izo. As usual, he was the first one in line seeing as the whole crew knew it was incredibly stupid to find themselves between Ace and food.
His pile of food was ready first and he sat down, digging in immediately. Izo and Thatch joined him shortly, but Marco was nowhere to be found. Ace finished his food quickly, not one to dwell on table manners and waited for his two companions to finish their food. At that point, he was worried; it wasn't usual for Marco to miss meals, but in Ace's eyes missing a meal meant a big problem. He had no time to voice his concerns before Thatch spoke about the subject.
"Ace, can you go take him some food? He's probably working again."
Ace, according to his better judgement, wanted to say no, but Izo had to cut in and encourage the idea. Bastard. The okama went as far as to arrange a plate of food for him to take with a promise to not eat it on the way. He was half way to Marco's room when he finally had time to think about what the hell he was doing. Would he be able to control himself once he was back in that room? No time to back down, he stopped in front of the door and reluctantly knocked on it. A muffled voice told him to come in and he took a deep breath before he opened the door. He said nothing as he closed the door and Marco didn't bother to look up from his notebook until Ace spoke.
"You missed lunch so Izo and Thatch sent me to bring you food," he said and nervously glanced around the room, trying hard not to stare at Marco. Or his exposed chest.
"Oh, thanks," the blond replied and turned back to the desk, moving some papers. "Just put it down here." Ace did as he was told then moved to the bed; it was the only surface where he could sit down other than the chair Marco was occupying. He sat down and earned a confused look from the blond.
"You missed lunch and I'm not leaving until you eat that." His face was ridiculously stern as he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. He didn't notice Marco's startled stare as his back touched the sheets. His eyes widened in horror, though, as he stared at the wooden ceiling, or rather at the compromising photo of his naked self taped to the planks. He needed to escape that room as fast as he could; it would no doubt be awkward if Marco noticed that addition to his ceiling while Ace was still there, but he had to stay until the other finished eating. His arms shifted so he could rub at his eyes in an attempt to hide his horror stricken face then stretched them to the sides. One reached all the way to the pillow and he decided it would be less weird to put the hand under it rather than on; his index finger brushed over a sharp edge of what he could only imagine to be another fucking picture. That room was like a fucking death trap and his common sense made him want to get up and run. He would have no way to explain just why he actually made those photos and it was far too soon for him to actually confess to Marco.
He sat back up and tried to act as normal as possible, glancing at Marco to see how much he had eaten.
Marco was surprised to see Ace at his door, but opted to stay seated and hope the other would leave before noticing the obviously bulging state of his arousal on the front of his pants. He was too old for this shit, popping boners at random times, but Ace seemed to have an interesting effect on him. Having the brat arch his back and stretch over his sheets didn't help him in the slightest. He looked inviting enough and the urge to just jump him was getting stronger by the second. Just as he thought his patience might have run out, Ace sat back up and Marco's daze was broken. He quickly grabbed the plate and started eating; the faster he ate the food, the faster he'd be saved from temptation. That's what Ace was, the embodiment of temptation. Stretching over white sheets without a damn shirt. Seriously, did the boy even own a damn shirt?!
The food was gone in a heartbeat and Marco was sure he probably looked suspicious to the raven head lounging on his bed. Why did it have to be his bed? Just looking at the bed and the chair was turning into an erotic sight; one glance at either of those and he could see Ace doing dirty things.
He shook his head to rid himself of the dangerous thoughts and handed the plate back to Ace. The other was already on his feet and took it without a word, starting towards the door right away.
"I'll leave you to your work," he said as he opened the door. "And don't miss dinner." Ace added with a smile and left before Marco could reply.
Marco sighed with relief that Ace didn't notice the state of his pants. In all honesty, he could have handled the problem after he'd seen the pictures, but he decided that he would not indulge those urges any more. Of course, it was a lot harder to obey his own command after the show Ace put on for him. He groaned and clutched at his hair in frustration. The whole ordeal was wearing him down. Work work work. He tried to keep his mind on work and not on the fact that the shifting of his boxers against his cock was very pleasurable; he tried moving as little as he could because too much pleasurable shifting would lead him to relieving his problem again.
He finished writing the report on the mission for any future needs and reached out for the closes empty envelope he saw. Well, his luck would have it that the envelope was not empty and his cock immediately twitched with renewed vigor. The treacherous bastard.
He didn't even fight it anymore, instead he opened the envelope and simply let himself go. With the mark of 13/15, the picture showed Ace on the desk (god dammit), propped on his knees with his arms stretched upwards and every muscle on his glorious body flexing in a mouth watering way. There was a naughty gleam in his eyes and for a good reason; one tiny bit of the sash's fabric was wedged between his teeth and it hung in front of his body, once again hiding the only mystery that was still left of Ace's body. The image has managed to give him erotic associations to the desk as well. The whole room was starting to turn him on because of those damn photographs and he knew there were ten more to come.
Unable to control himself any longer, he reached down and undid his sash again while leaning back into the chair. The zipper was undone soon after and the picture stayed in his other hand. He was well aware that this would be his second pair of soiled boxers in one day and it probably wouldn't be the last for a while, but he couldn't help it. Ace was obviously too good at being fucking hot.
He didn't waste time, his fingers slid down his blond happy trail and into the already damp boxers. His fingers wrapped around his cock and trailed his thumb from the precum moistened tip down the side of his shaft, moaning in the process. That was the extent of his teasing, opting for a quick release this time. He gripped himself tighter, starting with a slow stroking motion then speeding up after a short while; he knew this wouldn't last long and he stifled a moan as the first shiver came over him. He didn't stop stroking though and it wasn't too long before he felt himself losing it. If it were really Ace with him, he'd prolong every feeling, every sensation, but as he wasn't a lucky person, that wouldn't be the case any time soon so he continued the ruthless motion until pleasure took over and he arched forward. The hand with the photo was now holding on to the desk as he came down from the pleasure of his release.
He stored the photo into the drawer with the others as soon as he could, removing his other hand from the boxers and stood to clean up. The door was recklessly left unlocked and he was immensely lucky that no one chose that moment to visit him. At least he had some luck.
He stripped again and cleaned himself off with the ruined boxers before grabbing another pair to wear for the rest of the day. Marco knew he had to leave the room; everything in it reminded him of those pictures and Ace and getting him hard in no time. At least he hadn't felt old since he felt attraction for Ace for the first time; the brat could get him aroused without even doing anything special.
Marco was once again clean and decent, his thoughts were heading nowhere good and he decided to leave the room for as long as possible. He even refrained from looking anywhere for fear he might find another one and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle in one day. Figuring that Thatch had nothing better to do than join him for a drink, Marco went into the hallway and set out to search for his friend.
As promised, Marco did not miss dinner; if nothing else, the thought of a half naked Ace coming to his room at night was something that would definitely drive him insane. Dinner, as usual, lasted for hours when Thatch brought booze to the table and Marco could have kissed the man for it. It gave him an excuse not to go to his room any time soon and by the time they finally drank everything, it was already dark. He opened the door and half expected a naked Ace to jump him or do something erotic. Nothing like that happened, though, so he walked in with slight disappointment without bothering to turn on the light. It was better that way; the chances of finding a new picture in the dark weren't very good so he took his clothes off in the dim light of the moon seeping through the window and dropped on the bed. He could have sworn it smelled like the younger man, a faint hint of cinnamon and something that screamed Ace, thus being impossible to compare it to anything else. With a deep breath, Marco closed his eyes and tried to clear his head before falling into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep.
Ace was sitting on the chair, waiting for him. He wasn't doing anything other than smiling in Marco's direction; it was that mischievous smile Marco loved and was confident he'd come to love it even more. Ace said nothing, he simply sat there with the annoying blue fabric draped over his lap. Marco was also silent, standing by the door and enjoying the opportunity to absorb every detail of the other's body. Ace, on the other hand, seemed to grow impatient. He motioned Marco to come closer and the blond happily obliged, but only after he slowly slid the shirt from his shoulders. Ace's smile widened at that action and he leaned forward as Marco stood before him. He was quick to grab the blonde's neck and pull him lower until he was kneeling before chair, his hands clutching tightly at the armrests on both sides of Ace's waist. The raven head had no way to escape his clutches now as he leaned in and kissed his neck. The skin there was soft under his lips, traces of sweat already present. He moved his lips up, tracing the neck, jaw and finally the lips he wanted to taste for far too long.
The kiss was anything but slow and chaste; Marco moved his hands to Ace's waist and pulled his body out of the chair so the firm naked legs were straddling him. Ace didn't protest to sitting in Marco's lap, he took the opportunity to touch the older man as much as he pleased. His hands roamed over hard muscles of the blonds back, scratching them with blunt nails every once in a while when Marco managed to elicit a moan from his throat.
Marco felt as if he were about to burst, all the pent up attraction and frustration were threatening to overflow. He tightened his hold around Ace's waist and stood, Ace instinctively hooked his legs around the blonde's waist. Neither broke the kiss as Marco took those few steps to the bed and gently laid Ace on the sheets that still smelled like him. He broke the kiss, but Ace's face remained only inches away from his for a while as he straightened his back to look at the arousing sight before him. The sash managed to stay in place as it was wedged between them and Marco took great pleasure in stroking the fabric before grabbing it and gently pulling it away. It glided over Ace's skin and he closed his eyes before moaning at the sensation. He was sitting in front of Marco and as soon as the sash was gone, his hands went to the blond's zipper.
His pants were gone in a flash and Marco leaned over Ace again, this time climbing onto the bed before starting another kiss. Ace's hands found their way back around Marco's neck and he smirked into the kiss. Ace glided his hands across sleek sweaty skin, over Marco's back, his shoulder blades, his shoulders, down his chest and his sides until they settled on his hips. He pulled his hips down and bucked his, the contact it created was nothing short of heaven. They both moaned and Marco instinctively closed his eyes.
He opened them and found himself sweaty, panting and very much alone in his bed. A dream. It had been a dream, yet it felt more real than anything else he had felt in his life. Except the wetness in his underwear that was also very much real and it saddened him that he went through three pairs of boxers in a single day. He covered his face with his hands and sighed deeply. His resolve was slowly breaking and the temptation to come clean to Ace was stronger than ever. It had only been a day and the effect on him was monstrous. He could only hope he'd be fine after finding the other pictures hidden somewhere in the room.
Somehow he had managed to fall asleep again and was blessed with no dreams of any kind. He had yet to open his eyes, but he could feel the sun shining through the window. The thought of simply staying in bed forever was appealing, but ridiculously childish. He was a grown man, a pirate that had sailed as Whitebeard's first mate for years before Ace joined and suddenly he was breaking like a school girl. In reality, Marco was aware that Ace was by far too young for him; or rather, he was by far too old for Ace. He still didn't like how Izo was using Ace to mess with him like this.
He rubbed his eyes a bit before moving his hands under the pillow to support his head. The only surprise was that there was no surprise as he felt the sleek surface so familiar to him under the pillow. He pulled the picture out and opened his eyes; another one taped to the ceiling. Izo really went through a lot of trouble for a prank. Focusing on the one in his hands, he checked the back first: 6/15. He had only nine more to go, so that was a comfort, however slight it may have been.
Ace was on the bed, sitting on his knees facing the camera. His legs parted and his arms resting above his head, he gazed straight at him. His back was arched and his head slightly tilted backward, but his face was still clearly visible. Marco set it aside, his nerves too wracked for him to care that he was getting aroused again. He stood on the bed and removed the on taped to the planks above his bed. 3/15. It showed Ace lying on his bed; that was certainly a first. He was propped on his elbows, one leg stretched out on the sheets while the other was bent and the knee was in the air. His head was tilted back and his eyes closed, but his lips were slightly parted. Just enough for his tongue to lick over the upper lip.
Marco was a pitiful sight; standing stark naked on his bed with a boner at the ready, yet visibly shaken by his own issues and the strain this prank was putting on him. He picked up the other one from the bed and jumped to the floor, pacing to the desk to deposit the newest find with the others. He'd decide what to do with them once he found them all; and he would, no doubt, find all of them. After all, he managed to find almost half in 24 hours and it was wearing him down, the experience too overwhelming all of a sudden. His next stop was the dresser where he hopefully had another pair of clean boxers. He opened the drawer and sighed in relief as he saw several pairs. Grabbing the one on the top, he immediately scowled. It couldn't be... He unfolded a pair of plain black boxers and mentally cursed Izo and his idiotic ideas. There was a picture sewn onto his boxers right across the crotch. He had fucking sewn a photo onto his underwear. Flashy was the way Izo worked.
The picture, however, was probably Marco's favourite so far; Ace stood leaning on the dresser with one hand resting on the dresser top next to his hip. The other hand was in a more naughty position, cupping his cock to hold the sash in place. His handsome face revealed a mischievous grin that Marco was slowly getting addicted to.
He needed to leave the room as soon as possible so he placed the boxers into the drawer with the growing collection of pornographic pictures of his fellow commander. While looking for another shirt, he stumbled upon yet another one; he didn't know whether he should be happy about it or not. He only had six more before he could rest easy again. He knew he should probably just look for them and burn them all together, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The picture with the number 5 was found taped to the bottom of his drawer under a pile of shirts. He had to admit, Izo found good hiding places. It showed Ace sitting on the window sill above his bed. One leg was hanging while the other was propped on the bed. One hand resting on the window sill next to his thigh while the other caressed his chest, the tips of his fingers were on fire and leaving fiery trails on his chest. His face held the most inviting smirk Marco had ever seen. It was so Ace, yet it was also so unlike him at the same time. He could hardly say he'd seen Ace around people he was romantically interested in, but mostly he had seemed like a child. Easily excited and playful, yet straightforward and always knew what he wanted. Still, what Marco was looking at was the same Ace showing a definitely adult side to him. If there was one thing he had known Ace wasn't, it was deceiving and if that look was anything to go by, Ace just might have been involved in the photo game for other reasons than he had originally thought.
Still, it wasn't easy to believe he might have had feelings for someone much older than himself. Age was always a touchy subject with Marco and the one thing he certainly wasn't was young. Ace, on the other hand, was very young. Glancing at the photo again, Marco had to admit that the other's youth was one of the things that drew him in. There was also the fire and Ace's general personality, but also the obvious sex appeal he possessed.
This new line of thought only served to confuse him. As he was sliding into a clean pair of pants and a clean shirt, he decided that he would find the rest of the treasure scattered in his room and only then see if he would speak to Ace.
With a bounce in his step, Marco left his room. He knew the change would be apparent to some people and Izo was probably waiting for some kind of break in the usual. It would, no doubt, be a long day, but it did not matter to him as he walked down familiar halls and stepped into the warm sun.
It didn't take a genius to notice a change in Marco's behaviour, but a class above 'idiot' was obviously needed since Izo found himself to be the only one to notice. It made him confident that his plan was indeed working. Well, how could it not? Marco may have been smarter than most of the idiots on the crew, but he and Izo knew each other for a very long time. Izo knew exactly what his friend had craved for years; companionship. With Ace in the picture, it was easily arranged.
Ace was his usual self, still oblivious to the way Marco had been looking at him since they all sat down for breakfast. Izo took the opportunity to sneak out and run to Marco's room. He needed to know how many he had found already; the places he hid them weren't that obvious, but not that impossible to find either. With a mental list of the places he used, the okama swept through the room and smirked as he found a drawer containing nine of them, including the ones he so skilfully stitched to those boxers. Izo laughed at that, that one was his favourite and served mostly for his entertainment.
He departed from the room as fast as he appeared in it, making mental notes on how to help Marco find the remaining five pictures. The last one was special and still in Izo's possession, so to speak, to be used when the time was right. He would have to make these searches of the first mate's quarters a regular thing.
As frustrating as it was, Marco didn't find another photo for a day and a half. After all that time, he decided that he would wait to stumble upon them like he did with the previous ones. His search was short as he triumphantly found one in his nightstand drawer. It was an obvious place and he cursed himself for not looking there sooner. His patience was rewarded, though, as he gazed at the image of Ace on all fours on his bed, back arched and face hidden behind a curtain of black hair. He looked as if he were waiting for Marco, the blond could easily imagine himself on the bed behind Ace.
The wait for the discovery of all 15 photos was unnerving and Marco wanted to jump Ace every single time they were close to each other, but he had promised himself that he'd find all of them just to convince himself that he wasn't imagining anything.
He had been grateful when Izo kindly asked to borrow a book that revealed another hidden treasure in the form of Ace lying on his bed with his feet under him. His ass was turned to the camera, albeit covered with the damn sash and he was practically bending over with his elbows buried in the sheets, hands clutching at the same white fabric. By this point, he was both sure Izo was elbow deep in this and that he would not rest easy until he got to touch Ace if only just once. It only made his search for the other four photos unbearable. He had found three of them two days after Izo had helped him with the book, all three close-ups of Ace face showing various degrees of excitement and possibly pleasure that awaited him, but the last one eluded him. He was beyond frustrated at his inability to find one last damn picture that possibly held his happiness, not to mention sanity.
A week had passed since Marco found and cursed the first photo of Ace on his bed. A week that had been both long and short. He was denying himself a prize he was entitled to because that one last piece of the puzzle still had not been revealed. He had looked everywhere and started to believe it might have been a lie; that there were only 14. That thought saddened him, he had his hopes up only to have them crushed by the lack of a simple paper.
With a frustrating day behind him, Marco enjoyed the shower in his secluded bathroom. He was in no rush, there was nothing or no one waiting for him in his room. The space was eerily empty to him more than ever; he really didn't feel the need to have a room that big for himself. That thought did nothing to ease his mind as he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. In his almost catatonic state, he barely registered the object on the floor by the door. Paper rather than object, a familiar paper at that. He had been staring at 14 others just like that one for the last week. He picked it up, white side turned to him. The whiteness was disturbed by a number written in a neat handwriting. It simply said 15.
He was almost too nervous to turn it around, but judging from past experiences, he really did want to look at it. His cock knew how to appreciate the find before he even gazed upon it. He savored the moment for a short while longer before turning it around.
It was an understatement to say this one was different from the others. The offensive sash was finally gone and Ace lay completely nude on his bed, legs stretched out and back arched. His hands were clutching the pillow on either side of the bed. The candlelight threw shadows over his body, making the state of his arousal all the more obvious. Wait, candlelight? The room was bathed in candlelight. That was definitely different that before. He couldn't...
As soon as the thought had entered his mind, he had pulled on his pants and ran from the bathroom to his door, his hair still wet. He stopped there for a moment to gather his thoughts and remind himself that he would be okay if he was wrong. The chances of Ace being in his room at that very moment were slim to none, but he was simply making sure. His hand was on the door knob as he took one last deep breath and opened the door.
Candlelight invaded his sight as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Took you long enough," Ace's voice came from the bed where he lay just as he was in the photo Marco still held in his hand. His voice was low, seductive and the blond dropped the photo, but did not approach him. He was still stunned at the sight, something he wanted for so long finally within reach, waiting for him. Yet, he did not move from the door.
Ace didn't say another word as he sat up, slid his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. He was completely naked, but did not seem bothered by it. Marco was half convinced that he was dreaming again, like he had one too many times, but Ace approached him and smiled before laying his hands flat on the blonde's chest, giving him a few fluttering caresses. He pushed Marco back into the door and pressed their bare chests together. Marco's breath hitched at the contact and at Ace's determined actions. Their faces were mere inches apart and Marco still stood dazed at the unexpected turn of events.
"Marco..." Ace whispered, his warm breath tickled Marco's lips and the blond finally snapped out of it. His hands moved faster than ever to embrace Ace's waist before he leaned in and kissed the man before him.
Ace's lips were hot and soft, just as Marco had imagined, they felt like fire caressing his skin. He moved a hand to the nape of Ace's neck before encasing it with his own flames and caressed the other's spine with a flaming finger. He could fell Ace shudder in his arms and he knew it was from pure pleasure; his flames were cool and comforting, more so on Ace's heated skin and in combination with his own scalding fire.
Marco pushed himself off the door with Ace wrapped tightly in his arms, never breaking the kiss, and he guided them both toward the bed. It was a short walk and Marco lifted Ace in front of their destination, breaking the kiss, only to gently lay him on the sheets he had previously tousled. His dark eyes were looking up at Marco, but he shifted and sat up without breaking eye contact. His hands were on the blond's pants, unzipping them and pulling them down as far as he could. Marco stepped out of them when they hit the floor and leaned down to kiss Ace again. The raven head smile again, kissing back with more enthusiasm than Marco could have wished for. Ace's hands were touching every bit of exposed skin they could reach, pulling the blond down.
Marco was flush against Ace, their bodies touching as much as they could as he kissed the younger man again and again, both grinding together, looking for as much contact as they could get. They were both hard, to say the least, and every touch, every slide of skin sent shivers down their spines. Marco quickly found himself on his back with Ace straddling him. He would have minded, but... well, he didn't. There was nothing that could ruin the moment. Ace smiled that mischievous smile of his, sending the remaining blood from Marco's body down to his cock and Ace leaned down to kiss him slower this time, while his hand reached under the pillow. He lifted his head when he found what he was looking for; a bottle of lube, Marco could see. He lifted his eyebrows as he watched Ace coat him with lube. It was an amazing feeling, one that turned him one even more, but there was a question pressing in his mind.
"Shouldn't I be using that on you first?" he asked and Ace looked him in the eyes, his grin widening.
"You were in the shower for too long," he said cryptically without breaking eye contact or stopping the motion of his hands.
I took too long? What does tha... Marco's eyes widened as he realized what the other was saying and he groaned. His hand moved between Ace's parted legs, caressing his inner thigh and he observed as Ace closed his eyes, moaning at the touch. He moved past his cock and smirked when Ace whined at the lack of touching. His fingers reached lube slicked skin; Ace had prepared himself while he was in the shower. This was turning out to be too much for him, it had to be a dream.
Ace seemed to read his thoughts; he removed his hand and lifted himself on his knees, positioning himself carefully above Marco who had the sheets by his head in a death grip. Ace smile as he lowered himself painfully slowly, drawing moans from the both of them. He was too slow for Marco, he was at his wits ends. His hands detached themselves from the sheets and he laid them on Ace's knees, slowly gliding them up his thighs and hips until he reach hip bones then gripping them tightly, he pulled Ace down. Ace cried out, not a hint of pain in his voice, only pleasure. Marco took his chance to flip them over once again; it was his opportunity to please the raven head and make him come back for more. Ace's back hit the bed and he didn't try to reverse their positions, he simply lifted his arms and gripped the headboard for support. Marco took that as his cue to start moving and he pulled out slowly, watching carefully at the emotions passing over Ace's face. Almost entirely out, he grinned at the younger commander and thrust in. Ace moaned again, but Marco knew that was not it. He pulled out again and repositioned himself, changing his angle before slamming in again. He felt lucky for once as Ace's back arched and his head fell back in pleasure, a cry of Marco's name leaving his lips. That was it.
He started moving, thrusting, never changing his angle; he kept pounding into Ace and hitting his prostate head on with each thrust. Ace was losing himself and Marco was close behind; it had been too long and Ace was hot, inviting and screaming his name. Marco gripped his neglected cock and Ace moaned loudly again as the blond started pumping him in time with his thrusts.
Ace couldn't hold back any longer and he came with a moan of Marco's name, spilling over them both, but Marco didn't stop thrusting. He let go of Ace and lowered himself to kiss the freckled man under him, thrusting harder and harder. Ace embraced his shoulders and kissed him with more fire than before, pushing Marco over the edge of climax. They stayed embraced in silence and as the fog of pleasure lifted from his mind, the questions were back.
"Ace..." he said quietly without lifting his head. "What is it you want?"
He could feel rather than hear him chuckle before he replied.
This was like a practice for pose descriptions and generally just trying to write something longer than 3k xD Hope you enjoy, now I can finally not write smut for a while :D Also first time writing Marco/Ace