Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3381914.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Piece
  Relationship:
      Fushichou_Marco_|_Phoenix_Marco/Portgas_D._Ace
  Character:
      Portgas_D._Ace, Fushichou_Marco_|_Phoenix_Marco, Monkey_D._Garp,
      Whitebeard_Pirates, Shirohige_|_Whitebeard_|_Edward_Newgate, Thatch
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Canon-Typical_Violence, Explicit
      Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-17 Words: 21281
****** Ripple Effect ******
by MaiKusakabe
Summary
     After the incident with Shanks, Garp didn't take Luffy to Dadan's,
     unaware of how much that would change the life of his other grandson.
Notes
     I wrote this story for Aerle's birthday of 2014. I intended it to be
     a one-shot, but it grew and grew and I was forced to originally post
     it in chapters on ffnet. Here, however, I have decided to post it in
     its intended original format, so here goes a long one-shot.
     Story beta-read by TheRedHarlequin :)
See the end of the work for more notes
Ace’s head hung low, chin touching his chest as he stared unseeingly down at
his hanging feet, his body held against the tree by the rope those damn bandits
had tied around him and the trunk to keep him there. He wasn’t yelling anymore,
that had been the first thing he had stopped doing, nor was he trying to break
free now and, though his eyes hurt after staying so many hours awake, he
refused to sleep, his brain instead drifting over to the words heard earlier
that day.
All of this was his fault. He and Sabo were supposed to have been at the Grey
Terminal as always, beating anybody who got in their way and collecting more
treasure, but now nothing of that could happen ever again because he had been a
fucking idiot who had had to go and steal from one of Bluejam’s men all those
months ago. From that day on, things had gone downhill, even if neither he nor
Sabo had realized it at that point.
Beating that Polchemy guy and the men he had under his command had seemed the
only possible action back then, as those men had been searching for them,
though Ace was reasonably sure that particular action hadn’t affected much
Bluejam’s decision to come after them. Still, now Ace guessed the best option
would have been to simply return the money and give them some more treasure as
an apology or something. Treasure was just that, treasure, and they could
always collect more, but neither of them had thought about that possibility.
Instead, Sabo had come to hide at Dadan’s and the two boys had fallen under the
illusion that everything was fine. They had become even closer than they had
been in the past, and finally decided to become brothers.
And then Sabo’s father had appeared.
Ace still wasn’t sure if, despite how much of a piece of shit he had been,
Bluejam had been right in saying Sabo was better off with his family, despite
his brother’s opinion on them. After all, Ace couldn’t fathom how someone would
have been better with someone like him than anyone else, but Sabo must have
thought he couldn’t stay with his family, just like when he was little.
No, Sabo had tried to leave and now he was dead. And it was all Ace’s fault.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace,
You weren’t hurt in the fire, were you? I’m worried about you, but I know
you’re fine. I feel bad telling you this, but when you read this I’ll already
be out at sea. Things happened, and it seems I’ll be going before you do. I’m
not sure where I’ll go yet, but anywhere is better than this country. Then,
I’ll get stronger and become a real pirate.
When we’ve both become pirates with more freedom than anyone in the world,
let’s meet again somewhere. Somewhere out in the wide, open sea, I know I’ll
see you again.
You know, Ace, I wonder which of us is the oldest? It’s strange to be two older
brothers, but this bond is my greatest treasure.
Take care, Ace.
Ace sat on the edge of the cliff that overlooked the sea, hands clutching
Sabo’s letter as he read it again for the umpteenth time.
He didn’t sob now when his eyes roved over the words he had already memorized.
He couldn’t cry, his eyes so dry after weeping for so long Ace wouldn’t be
surprised if they became unable to produce tears ever again.
It had passed some time since Ace had read the letter for the first time, a
little over a day, as now the sun was setting for the second time since he got
here.
The raw pain his time tied to the tree had weakened somewhat and Sabo’s letter
had brought back in full force had now dulled, giving way to the dark thoughts
that invaded his mind almost every time he came to this particular spot facing
the ocean.
Dark thoughts and the realization, though it should have been there from the
start, that he had lost the only person who really mattered to him in this
world.
With that realization came another thought. They had promised to leave the
island when they turned seventeen, but Sabo had left earlier and hadn’t made
it. Ace wondered if he would. If he managed to leave, he would make sure to
live a life with more freedom than anyone else, as a pirate just like both he
and Sabo had always dreamed to be. It would be his tribute to his brother, to
sail the world, live adventures and not having to depend on what others tried
to impose on him. If he didn’t manage it, then that would mean the world had
been right from the start and Ace really shouldn’t have been born. Right now,
he was inclined to believe the world was right, but it would be an insult to
Sabo if he just gave up.
His mind made up, Ace decided now was the time to set sail.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
When morning came, many inhabitants of the town center of Goa Kingdom woke to
discover some of their possessions, in particular money and jewelry, had
disappeared. The police station was swarmed by reports on this matter and, in
looks of all the displeased citizens who had lost their valuable belongings, no
one paid much attention to a fisherman’s complaint about his stolen boat, just
like the disappearance of almost all the food from those houses was overlooked
by the owners.
Portgas D. Ace, the perpetrator of these crimes, was unaware of the ruckus his
actions had caused, too busy organizing his provisions and new treasure in the
small cabin of his new boat.
There had been bigger boats, even some that had beds inside their cabins, but
in this one he had found the most valuable of all his newly acquired
possessions, something he hadn’t been able to find in any of the houses, and
would have required him to rob a store: navigation tools.
Now, he was no expert like Sabo had been, but he had paid attention when Sabo
explained something, and had even read a book or two once it was clear they
wouldn’t be in the same crew. Ace hoped that would be enough to sail the East
Blue. He guessed he would become better at it as time passed.
Ace came out of the cabin once he was sure nothing would get out of place due
to the sway of the boat and looked up.
The sky was clear, only small white clouds drifting through it, and Ace allowed
himself to close his eyes and feel the ocean breeze drift past him.
It was so strange to be out at sea.
He had known he would leave in a boat on his own some day, but he had expected
that day to be his seventeenth birthday, and had hoped by then to be tall and
muscular, not a scrawny brat who couldn’t protect anyone.
Shaking his head furiously to get rid of that thought, Ace looked at the empty
area of the small deck opposite to where the fishing tools were kept and
decided some workout was in order.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
The man fell down with a thud and landed sprawled on the ground, unconscious
and with a bleeding wound open on his head where it had hit the pavement.
Ace looked at his hands, clenched around the wooden stick, and gave them a
displeased look.
He still was too weak. That man, a pirate who didn’t even have a bounty, had
almost defeated him when Ace tried to take him on with his bare hands, the boy
being forced to grab the first object he found that resembled a pipe to fight.
Ace hadn’t brought his pipe with him, he hadn’t felt capable of using it again
without being invaded by memories of his deceased brother, and now was starting
to regret his decision. But he wouldn’t get a replacement one to suit his
needs, no. Ace didn’t want to depend on a weapon to fight, he wanted to be able
to use his hands and legs for that, and it was for this same reason that he
vowed to train even more than he already was doing. To become stronger.
With that thought in mind, Ace decided to go in search of the local thugs.
Every city had its own weak thugs who thought themselves to be something great,
and they were very useful to test one’s abilities for now.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Monkey D. Garp sat behind his desk at Marine Headquarters after returning from
another unsuccessful search at East Blue.
Sure, he had visited Luffy at Foosha and spent two weeks training him, but he
had found no trace of his other grandson.
As always.
Ace had disappeared over a year ago, right after Sabo had died, leaving behind
nothing but a short letter scrawled on a small piece of paper where he told
Dadan that now she wouldn’t have to worry about spending money on him. He had
also written a few lines for Garp, telling him this way he wouldn’t be putting
himself in danger for protecting Ace, and that, despite being a shitty old
geezer, he wasn’t all that bad as a grandfather.
That was the best compliment Garp had ever received from Ace.
The boy had been gone for a month when Garp had gone to Dadan’s that time, and
the only reason the marine hadn’t really done anything to the bandits was that
he could see how genuinely worried they were about the boy. Garp was worried,
too, so worried that he had started crying right there, clutching the letter he
still kept to this day in one hand.
He had left the island right away, barely stopping to say goodbye to Luffy, and
had searched for as long as he had managed to stay away from headquarters
before Sengoku threatened to go out to East Blue and drag his ass back to
Marineford.
Garp had only managed to hear some rumors about a monster brat beating people
up at different islands, but he had already been gone when the marine arrived
at those islands. Through the descriptions provided by some of the victims,
that all coincided it was an angry dark haired kid with freckles on his face,
Garp knew it was Ace. He had heard them every time he went to East Blue at one
island at least, but hadn’t been able to find Ace all the same.
The marine had conflicting emotions regarding those rumors. In one hand, they
were proof that Ace was at least alive, and becoming stronger as every time his
victims were stronger as well, but at the same time they meant the boy was
putting himself in constant danger, and that worried Garp.
In his last trip, the vice admiral had even heard mention to these incidents at
a marine base he had stopped at for supplies, and couldn’t help but wonder how
long it would be before they managed to discover who the one behind the attacks
was. At least the men talking about it had seemed incredulous at the idea of a
child beating adults like that.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace staggered backwards, barely managing to stay on his feet when he was
punched right on the face.
There was laughter around him and the same man who punched him grabbed him by
the front of his t-shirt and lifted him up, pulling the boy closer to his face.
Ace turned his head, not wanting to get the disgusting man’s rotten breath
right on his face.
“So you’re that monster brat who’s been attacking people all over East Blue,
huh?”
Ace glared at the man and tried to pull the hand holding him off, earning a
punch to the stomach.
There was more laughter around him from the other men.
“You gonna kill him, boss?” Someone asked, and Ace held back the urge to turn
around and glare at the one who spoke, keeping his eyes on the most immediate
threat.
“Nah. This brat’s strong, we could use him.”
In that moment, hearing those words, Ace was reminded of Bluejam. Bluejam, who
had used him to prepare the fire that burned Grey Terminal. Bluejam, who had
come with Sabo’s father to take Sabo away from him.
Ace saw red.
“I’m not working for you!” He yelled and, before anybody could react, had
kicked the man in the face with enough strength to make him release Ace and
fall backwards holding his now broken nose.
Without thinking, Ace lunged at him, viciously punching and hitting the adult,
not realizing that the blows that hadn’t caused too much damage earlier were
now easily breaking through skin, muscle and bone.
It wasn’t until later, when he was the only one standing in that alley, that
Ace stared down at his hands and realized he had caused much more damage than
his strength should have allowed him. Confused, he wondered why none of the
other men had attacked him and raised his head to look around, finding all of
them there, sprawled on the ground with their weapons scattered around them,
having fallen from their hands. None of them were awake.
He wondered about it, but couldn’t find any explanation for what had just
happened.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace grinned, looking around to make sure none of his enemies were conscious
before he walked up to the last man he had defeated, unconscious as the rest of
his crew.
He remembered seeing this man’s face before, he was a relatively famous pirate
here in East Blue, with a bounty of ten million beli on his head, far above the
average for pirates in this sea. That was a nice sum, and would have done
nicely to replace his already too worn out boat, but unfortunately Ace couldn’t
claim it.
He might not be the smartest person around, but he was no idiot either. Ace had
heard the rumors going around about him, and knew as soon as a twelve year old
boy appeared at a marine base dragging a thoroughly defeated and dangerous
pirate captain, the marines would make the connection and identify him. He may
not have an official bounty on his head, but Ace wasn’t too sure that would
mean they would allow him to simply walk away with the money.
It wasn’t something he was eager to test.
But, even without obtaining the money, there had been some perks to this fight.
He had won, to begin with, and had managed to use the strange skill that
appeared some months ago to do so. Granted, it hadn’t been perfect as he
couldn’t exactly use it at will, but anger had been perfect to make it appear.
He hadn’t been doing bad before that, although he had been greatly outnumbered,
but once that skill appeared again it had been a matter of a few minutes to
take all the small fry out, and the captain had gone down easily in a one to
one fight.
Ace didn’t know what that skill that enhanced his strength so much was, he
hadn’t been able to find any information on it, but it didn’t really matter as
long as it was useful. And it wasn’t the only unexplained power, either. No,
Ace could also feel things. He instinctively knew where people was, was able to
predict others’ attacks and sometimes could even get an idea of how strong
someone was.
At one point Ace had considered the possibility of having accidentally eaten a
Devil Fruit, but he could still swim, so that option was discarded.
After various failed attempts at discovering what was happening to him, Ace had
decided to ignore the why and instead concentrate on learning how to control
these new abilities. Looking around, he didn’t seem to be doing too bad.
The bad thing was that this crew was among the strongest of East Blue, and that
meant soon this sea wouldn’t be enough for him to train.
Maybe it was time to search information about how to enter the Grand Line.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace walked through the busy streets of late afternoon, careful to avoid any
collisions that could damage his precious purchases. Aside from ridiculously
expensive, Log Poses looked to be frail items, and Ace really didn’t to risk
his luck and break one. He would have to raid a pirate ship or two just to
gather the necessary money to buy another if this one broke.
At least the navigation using this strange compass seemed easy enough, or would
have been if it weren’t for the strange things he had read about the Grand
Line’s weather. He would have brushed most of it off as lies or exaggerations
if it weren’t for the stories he remembered his gramps telling him years ago,
when Ace was little and still didn’t know much about the world.
He shook his head, trying to erase all memories of the man he still cared about
despite his less than stellar nurturing skills, and froze when he saw where his
steps had brought him.
He was at a wide plaza, people walking around him just like everywhere else in
the busy town, and there, standing at the other end of the square open space,
was a tall wooden structure.
The scaffold.
The place where everything began. The place where the Pirate King, Gol D.
Roger’s, execution had taken place fifteen years ago, where Ace’s place in the
world had been erased even before he was born.
Ace stalked off through one of the many streets leaving the plaza and decided
he could use a drink. He had long since learned how to threaten bartenders into
selling him booze, and many people didn’t even care about selling alcohol to a
boy who wasn’t even fourteen as long as he could pay for it.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace looked around, fascinated at the water ascending at high speed through the
path that would lead him to the Grand Line.
He was finally here. It had taken him almost a year to gather all the necessary
information to enter the greatest ocean in the world, as well as finding a boat
strong enough to resist the rough entrance but that he could manage by himself,
but now he was finally here.
He had managed to enter the channel by a hair’s breath, for a long moment sure
he wouldn’t make it and instead crash against the rock wall, and now, with the
water carrying him up, he laughed.
He laughed for the first time in many months, and when the boat jumped in the
air and fell onto the rapidly descending current he allowed himself to grin
widely and stare ahead with fascination, for the eternal moments it took for
him to descend to the calmer waters below going back to be the child that had
ran through Grey Terminal and Goa Kingdom with his brother and best friend,
laughing and fighting and dreaming of becoming a great pirate someday.
Up on the mast, the pirate flag he had finally decided to hoist flapped
furiously, moved by the strong wind.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace glared ahead, arms crossed and eyes following the strange old man whose
hair resembled a flower as he moved about his boat.
It hadn’t come as much of a surprise that his boat had suffered damage from the
arrival into the Grand Line, but Ace had hoped it would be in a good enough
condition to reach the first island. It was, but this man had offered to help
him all the same, clearly surprised and curious at seeing someone his age alone
here.
Ace would have refused, but he had long since learned to take advantage of all
the chances presented to him. He had also learned to be wary of them. Still,
his sensing ability told him this weird man was strong, far stronger than Ace
was, and the boy was aware that the man, who apparently was a doctor, didn’t
need to trick him if he really wanted to harm him.
That didn’t mean Ace couldn’t mistrust or glare at him.
He liked the whale, though. It didn’t pay any attention to Ace, but he had
always liked animals. You didn’t need to worry about them stabbing you in the
back. And he was curious about the scars. He wondered how such a big whale
could have got so many of them, and really big ones at that.
Ace got his answer when a loud, earsplitting wail filled the air right before
the whale began to bang its head against the Red Line.
The man, Crocus, left what he was doing and ran to the edge of the cape,
yelling for it to stop hurting itself.
Laboon, that was the whale’s name.
Judging by both the number of scars and the resigned sigh of the doctor, Ace
could guess this was a very common occurrence.
Hours later, after Ace had decided to help Crocus fix his boat, they sat for
dinner, the man having insisted the boy stay the night and leave the next
morning, arguing that it would be suicide for Ace to start his trip through the
Grand Line in the middle of the night. That, the promise of free food and Ace’s
reluctant belief that Crocus didn’t seem like a bad person had convinced him to
stay.
“I’m curious,” the man said between mouthfuls of what he claimed was sea king
meat, “how come a boy your age is a pirate on his own? Shouldn’t you have
searched a ship to be an apprentice at? That’s the most common thing.”
Ace shrugged and bit off another piece of meat. He wasn’t sure if it was really
sea king or not, but what he couldn’t argue was that there was plenty of food
and it was delicious.
“I didn’t want to work for anybody.” He explained when his mouth wasn’t so
full.
“Then why don’t get a crew of your own?”
“Don’t need it.”
Crocus didn’t answer, instead giving him a long, considering look while Ace
continued to wolf down dinner. Once his plate was empty, Ace reached for one of
the still full plates on a side table.
“What?” He asked, noticing the man was still looking at him.
Crocus shook his head.
“Nothing. When I saw you, I thought you resembled someone I knew, but you’re
very different.” Ace gave him a confused look and brought the plate in front of
him. Crocus laughed. “You have his same appetite, though.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace had decided to take his advance through the Grand Line calmly.
At the first island he arrived, the pirate boy had soon discovered people here
were considerably stronger than those he was used to fight, both local thugs
and pirates alike. That hadn’t prevented him from beating up some crew who had
laughed at him for ‘playing pirate’.
It was becoming easier to control his abilities, he just had to think of
something that really pissed him off for the strengthening power to appear.
Remembering Bluejam did the job spectacularly.
But the fight had been hard and had taken a toll on him, and that was the
reason why Ace had decided to stay on this island and train even after the Log
Pose fixed on the next destination. It would take a week for that to happen,
according to a nice lady from the market.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Garp’s blood ran cold through his veins, as it had done ever since he saw the
daily memo sent to all marine officers. He usually only gave it a quick browse
and maybe came up with some funny thoughts at the bounty upgrades and new
criminals with a price on their heads, but today one of the three wanted
posters there had frozen the world around him.
There, on his desk, lay a new wanted poster, the picture of the grandson who
had gone missing over three years ago glaring up at him.
Twenty million beli. That was what the government offered for the head of his
almost fourteen year old grandson.
That paper, that innocent piece of paper, destroyed any chances there might
have been left of finding Ace and taking him back to Mount Colbo, where he
could have stayed safe for at least some more years.
And it also told Garp many things about his grandson.
Ace looked tired and angry, had deep shadows under his frowning eyes, his brow
furrowed and his mouth drawn down. If he hadn’t known better, that picture
would have led him to believe he was fifteen, maybe even sixteen. Not even the
boyish freckles on his face helped to soften his expression.
Also, reading the list of Ace’s crimes, he now knew his grandson had entered
the Grand Line, apparently a couple of months ago, though he didn’t seem to be
advancing fast through it. That might increase Garp’s chances of finding him,
at least as long as Ace stayed in Paradise, even if he wasn’t sure what he
would do now if he did manage to find his grandson. He wouldn’t arrest him,
that was for sure, but he couldn’t take him to a safe place either, and
entering him to become a marine wasn’t an option anymore.
And then there was the name on the wanted poster. Ace. No Portgas, no D. Just
Ace. That, in itself, was a blessing despite the circumstances. It gave him a
certain anonymity, hiding his relationship with anything that might have
alerted the marines and the government about his possible dangerous potential,
effectively erasing any interest a higher up marine officer might have had in
him. That, at least, was something.
Despite not knowing what to do, Garp was still determined to find him. He might
not be able to protect him from this, but he at least wanted to make sure with
his own eyes that Ace was alive and as fine as possible.
For now, the vice admiral realized the best thing he could do to help the boy
was hide his relationship with his oldest grandson. Sengoku would immediately
know he wasn’t Dragon’s, as Garp had boasted about Luffy in numerous occasions,
and it wouldn’t be hard for his old friend to figure out whose son Ace was.
Sighing deeply, Garp brushed a thumb over the picture and wished with all his
will that Ace would be able to surpass all the trouble this simple paper would
bring his way.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Marco the Phoenix raised an eyebrow at one of the wanted posters that had come
with that morning’s newspaper. He liked to stay up to date on the people the
government considered dangerous. While most of these people were weaklings that
he forgot about as soon as he read about them, sometimes there appeared a
strong person or crew that had potential. He liked to keep an eye on those, as
relatively strong crews had a thing for trying to defy the Whitebeard Pirates
as soon as they reached the New World, and Marco liked to know what possible
enemies they might face in the future.
This, however, was strange. It didn’t catch his attention for the bounty that,
though not bad for a first one, was pretty low. No, what caught his attention
was the picture attached to it, the scowling face of a teenager who still
seemed to have at least a couple of years to go before he could be considered
an adult. A boy that age, if he was a pirate, usually would be a cabin boy that
would go unnoticed by the marines and most other pirates, not a pirate on his
own who went around fighting other wanted people.
“Oi, Thatch.” His friend looked up from his breakfast. “Look at this,” he said,
throwing the wanted poster to the other commander. He waited until the man had
looked at the picture before asking: “How old do you think that kid is?”
“Dunno, fifteen? What’s with marines and putting bounties on kids?” He asked
rhetorically, and then added. “And this epithet is lame. ’The monster child’?
Really? These guys need to hire someone with imagination.”
Marco smiled at his friend’s comment. Another of the reasons why he looked at
wanted posters was to have a laugh with his crewmates at some of them. But he
didn’t find this one amusing. The bounty might be low, but for a boy that age
to earn it, and as a first one no less, was at least interesting.
Marco decided he would keep an eye out for this Ace guy when he read the
newspaper from now on.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace had laughed hard when he saw his wanted poster at a bar of questionable
patronage, extremely pleased with himself that he had earned his first bounty,
and a very good one for someone who came from East Blue.
His laughter had attracted the attention of the other people there, and some of
them had apparently recognized him, as a burly man stated cockily he had found
a lot of easy cash and tried to capture him. After said man was flung through a
wall no one else tried, and Ace was disappointed that there wasn’t anyone
strong in the bar. A good fight would have been a great way to celebrate his
entrance into the wanted people list.
He felt really proud of himself and, for a short moment, indulged in thoughts
of what could have been the reactions of the people that had been relevant in
his life. Sabo would have laughed, just like him, and suggested they celebrate.
His brother might even have expressed his jealousy at Ace having a bounty
before he did. Dadan would have yelled at him, annoyed that Ace always did
whatever he wanted. And Gramps would have got mad, really mad, and probably
beat him to a pulp for daring to become a pirate.
Ace froze at this last thought.
Gramps was a marine. A marine vice admiral, no less. He probably knew about
this already.
He stood up, running off of the bar, unconsciously emulating his old tradition
of leaving before paying with Sabo, and ignored the bartender’s yells as he
headed as fast as possible for the port.
He had to get out of here. To another island. Preferably an island from a
different route than the one he had been following so far.
Ace might not place any value in his own life, but that didn’t mean he wanted
to die at that man’s hands. No way in hell.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Fifteen year old Portgas D. Ace sat on a bar stool at Water Seven, distractedly
thinking about the strange city he was at while he devoured his meal, expertly
ignoring the horrified stares around him.
Recently, his boat had been damaged after a particularly nasty storm, and at
the island he had arrived next, a place with excellent food called Pucci, he
was told about this island that was supposed to have some of the best
shipwrights in the world. His boat hadn’t been in any condition to sail
further, but luckily both islands were connected by the Sea Train, an
impressive machine that had made Ace practically drool at the sight of it, and
he had managed to get his boat transported by it, even if it had been somewhat
expensive. Then he had hired one of these animals that acted as a means of
transportation in the beautiful city of water, a huge King Bull, to take his
damaged boat to one of the docks, where he had been surprised at the ease with
which the shipwrights had acted, apparently having no problem about working for
pirates.
Ace hadn’t been the only pirate there, and had been glad to know his rather
generous treasure would be more than enough to pay for the repairs. He would
have to wait some days for the repairs to be done though, and that meant now
Ace had to find a hotel to stay meanwhile.
His next destination was, finally, Sabaody Archipelago, the last stop before
Fishman Island and, at long last, the New World. It had taken him almost two
years to cross the first half of the Grand Line, but he finally was almost
there and the long wait had been worth it. He was now much stronger than he had
been when he first entered this ocean, as his bounty of now one hundred and
fifty million beli indicated, and had lived many things he once thought were
only impossible dreams.
Now it wouldn’t be long before he visited one of the most mythical places of
the world and, with that thought in mind, Ace decided that as soon as he had
found a hotel he would go in search of information about the New World and,
luckily, the way to reach Fishman Island. According to some maps he had seen,
the island was right below the Red Line.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Sabaody was, put in one word, impressive. The bubbles floating everywhere,
along with the architecture of the place, mostly consisting on circular shapes
that reminded of those same bubbles and the tall Mangroves rising far above the
trees gave the place a fairy tale-like appearance that was dampened by the
rumors Ace had heard about slavery still being a common practice in this place,
sanctioned by the marines who simply turned a blind eye on it so the
Tenryuubito could have a place to acquire their slaves.
Ace had heard enough about the Tenryuubito, all of it whispered in low and
fearful voices, to know he really didn’t want to encounter one in case he
couldn’t resist the urge to punch their face in if he saw them do something
disgusting.
That was one of the reasons he decided to head for the lawless area, along with
the idea that it would probably be easier to find information about a coating
engineer who didn’t mind working for pirates there. He would rather avoid the
hassle of threatening an unwilling person to do it and risking a lousy job
because of that. It was his life on the line here, after all.
Entering a bar, he sat on one of the few free stools on the counter and asked
for the first thing that caught his fancy of all the bottles behind the
bartender, along with food. Lots of it. As much as the man could fit in the
space before him. Said man looked at him strangely, a skeptical look on his
face at the request, but complied nonetheless.
He ate and drank in silence for a while, listening to the conversations around
him in hopes of hearing something useful but, when he couldn’t hear anything of
interest, he decided to ask.
“Hey, boss,” Ace spoke to the bartender in his most polite way, having learned
that calling someone ‘asshole’ or ‘bastard’ didn’t get you far when you wanted
to gain some information, “you know of any good coating engineer around here?”
The man, who up to this point had been directing astonished looks his way as
Ace devoured all the food he had ordered, smiled. Not a nervous gesture,
despite the fact that the man obviously knew who he was as Ace’s wanted poster
hung in one of the walls, and answered him.
“Actually, you’re sitting next to one. Right, Ray-san?”
Ace turned his head around in both directions and settled on the old man to his
right who now was looking at him.
“Really? You’re a coating engineer, old man?” Ace bit his tongue as soon as the
words left his mouth, remembering a lot of people didn’t like to be called old
even if they did have long gray hair, a matching weird beard and more wrinkles
on his face than Ace could count. He fleetingly thought the man looked slightly
familiar.
The boy cursed internally, fearing he had lost his chance.
But the man just laughed heartily.
“Yeah, I am.”
Ace grinned.
“Can you do my ship, then?” He asked excitedly.
“It depends. Can you pay, brat?”
Ace crossed his arms, suddenly annoyed at the old geezer’s question.
“Of course I can.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace had been worried that his boat would be too small to be coated and go all
the way down to Fishman Island, fearing he would be forced to find another way
to go there, but according to the engineer, Ray-san, it was big enough for Ace
to make it with more than enough air if he went alone. Now they were on it,
moving the boat to a more secluded place where the man said he would be able to
work better. It would take at least three days to coat the boat, even with its
small size.
Ace guessed he could have a look around meanwhile. He still hadn’t found a New
World Log Pose, after all.
“So you’re a pirate, eh? It’s surprising how young some people make that
decision.” The old man said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” Ace answered, having heard that same comment too
many times to be offended by it any longer. He guessed it was strange that
someone his age, even more the age he had been when he set sail, was a pirate,
and could understand some people was surprised by it. Ray-san wasn’t surprised,
though, he just seemed to have stated a fact.
“I knew two brats your age who were pirates, too. They were apprentices.” The
man said in a strange tone of voice. It sounded almost melancholic.
Ace turned his head to look at him and, sure enough, there was a faint trace of
wistfulness in his expression.
“You were a pirate, old man?”
Ray-san grinned, a bright and somewhat happy gesture that somehow still managed
to look sad.
“Yes. It was a long time ago.”
Ace stared at the man, his posture relaxing a little after obtaining that
knowledge. If Ray-san was a former pirate, it was less likely that he would try
to sell Ace or something. Hell, the man might even have a bounty on his head,
and that would make selling Ace really hard on him.
He froze, eyes fixed on the man. A picture from a book he had read many years
ago, when he was just a little boy trying to understand why the world couldn’t
know he existed, came to his mind. A blond man with a strange dark beard on his
chin, round glasses and a confident smile appeared above an obscenely high sum
of money and a name famous all around the world.
Silvers Rayleigh.
Ray-san.
Ace stared and, before he could think properly, his stupid mouth opened and
uttered the name of the Dark King, the first mate of the Pirate King.
He didn’t know what reaction he had been expecting, but for the man to laugh
certainly wasn’t it.
“You’d better not go throwing that name around, kid. I’m old, I’d like to live
a peaceful life.”
Ace frowned, and for a moment thought of steering the boat to the coast and ask
the man to get out, that he would find someone else to help him. But he didn’t
want to look weak, and so he kept his mouth shut and didn’t say a word.
A silence that weighed heavily on Ace’s mind settled on the boat.
“What’s your name, boy?” Rayleigh asked after long minutes. Ace looked sideways
at him. “And I don’t mean just the ‘Ace’ from your wanted poster. Your full
name.”
Ace debated not telling him, but his pride didn’t allow him to just stay
silent, and it wasn’t as if his name would make a great difference in his life,
at least not the name he had chosen for himself. He had renounced his birth
name long ago.
“Portgas D. Ace.”
Again, he was surprised at the Dark King’s response.
“Rouge’s son? I liked her.”
For the first time, Ace turned to look fully at him, surprise written all over
his face.
“… You knew her?”
“We met her a long time ago.” Rayleigh smiled sadly. “Am I wrong in assuming
she’s dead?”
Ace shook his head and, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, provided an answer
for an unasked question.
“She died giving birth to me.”
He was surprised at the genuine sadness in Rayleigh’s eyes. This man was the
first person aside from gramps he had met who knew his mother, and the obvious
sorrow at the news of her death made Ace’s animosity toward him slightly
decrease.
Silence settled once more until the older man spoke again.
“Tell me, Ace, are you Roger’s son as well?”
Ace tensed, back going ramrod straight and hands clenching in tight fists.
“What if I am?” He snapped.
Rayleigh shook his head.
“I guess you don’t like him much.”
“Why should I?!” He yelled, feeling the sudden urge to express all his thoughts
on the useless man who had sired him, but Rayleigh spoke before he could begin.
“I’m not sure what you’ve heard about him. The rumors, I’d imagine, but maybe
you should ask about him to those who knew him instead of forming an opinion
based on what people who never met Roger think.”
Ace paused, his stance going slack involuntarily, and he stared.
“I don’t know what your grudge against him is, but Roger was my captain and
best friend.” Rayleigh said, confusing Ace further. Aside from gramps’ fond
memories of his fights with the Pirate King and the time he told Ace that Roger
wasn’t that bad a guy, Silvers Rayleigh was the first person Ace had met who
seemed to have a good opinion about Gol D. Roger.
Seeing the deep sadness in the man’s eyes when he said those last words, Ace
decided to hold back any further comments on the topic.
Rayleigh raised an arm and pointed to one of the various rivers sneaking
between the enormous trees.
“Let’s go through there. And don’t worry about the money, take it as a
present.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace left the tattoo parlor resisting the urge to rub his bandaged upper left
arm. There, just waiting to heal a little to be uncovered, now lay his new
tattoo, a mark depicting his name along with a crossed out S between the A and
the C. The tattoo artist had looked strangely at him when Ace told him what it
was he wanted, but then the man just shrugged and proceeded to draw the design
for him. It was better that way, Ace would have had to punch him in the face if
the guy had made any comment on how it would look better without the S. That
had happened back at Sabaody when, during the time he waited for the coating to
be completed, he had decided it was a good moment to get the tattoo he had been
thinking of for months.
A tribute to Sabo on his own skin.
People might think the S was a mistake, or just some stupid statement of how
his name wasn’t pronounced, but the truth was that letter was the most
important part of the tattoo, and it had nothing to do with his name.
Yawning, Ace decided it was time to start looking for information about his
target. The man might be really important, but the New World was a big sea and
it would be stupid to go around blindly and hope to find him.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace sat up on the bed and looked around the dark room he was in. He hadn’t
planned on falling asleep, but one of his sudden sleep attacks had decided to
contradict him and now here he was, waking up what could be hours after he
first entered the place.
Standing up, the young pirate knelt on the floor and started to blindly search
for his clothes there, refusing to turn the lights on and wake up his sleeping
companion. It might have been a very fun night, and Ace certainly didn’t regret
his decision of losing his virginity, but that didn’t mean he was up to any
post coital conversation, and he didn’t even want to imagine what he would say
if the guy decided he wanted to know Ace further. The boy had seen in his face
that the man he had met last night hadn’t recognized him as a wanted criminal.
Grinning when he found his pants, Ace put them on, now glad he had decided
underwear wasn’t worth it a long time ago. Next came his boots and, when he
finally threw his shirt on, the young pirate stood up and left the room, a last
glance to the bed to make sure the man was still sound asleep.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace chuckled, ignoring the glares directed his way, and chuckled some more when
he looked again at all the badly drawn hands giving the middle finger he had
managed to doodle in the paper after long, and in his opinion well invested,
hours of effort invested in learning how to draw them.
At first, when that letter reached him, he had been furious, fuming for three
hours straight until he found some unfortunate pirates to help relieve his
irritation. Once he had calmed somewhat, Ace had started to think of the better
way to answer the missive, and this idea had occurred to him. He had liked it
so much that he had even bought the necessary materials and sought out the
local library, taking a children’s book to get an idea of how hands were drawn.
He had never before drawn anything, after all, but the result, by no means
perfect, gave his message nicely.
Along with the words ‘You can take your offer and shove it up your fucking
asses’, followed by a smiling face that had also taken some practice to draw
half-decently, was Ace’s response to the world government’s offer to join the
Shichibukai.
Taking the envelope and carefully placing his masterpiece inside, Ace wondered
who read these letters and almost laughed out loud at the thought of his
grandfather’s reaction.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace panted heavily, both knees and a hand on the hard ground and his other hand
rubbing off some blood from his forehead before it could fall on his eyes.
He cursed. He had got overconfident.
For the last few months, almost half a year, even though his bounty wasn’t
exceedingly high at three hundred million beli, he had been able to defeat with
relative ease all of his opponents, including some that had higher prices on
their heads than he did and, for some reason, he had thought he was ready to
fight him.
Obviously, he had been wrong.
Three attacks and the strongest man in the world had him on his knees holding
to the last strings of his strength. And the worst part was that Ace hadn’t
managed to land a single blow on him.
But that didn’t mean he would go down easily.
With an enraged scream, Ace attacked again.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Marco looked down at the unconscious young man on the infirmary bed.
He was all covered in bandages and deeply asleep, probably the only reason he
was alive being that Pops had decided he liked him.
His bounty had gone steadily up there past two years, and seeing how it had
risen more often than not when he appeared in the newspaper, the brat seemed to
have a thing for going after people considered stronger than him. What happened
last night confirmed it. The kid had drawn their attention by going to one of
their islands and forcing the people there to call them, though luckily for him
he hadn’t killed anyone, and then proceeded to go for the captain straight
away. He had easily punched out of the way most of the crewmembers who tried to
stop him, the commanders standing back as it was only one opponent.
The brat had lost, that was true, but it had been clear that the only ones
aside from the captain who could stop him were the commanders, and that was why
Marco was now on watch duty over their future brother.
If Ace’s reaction when Whitebeard made the offer was anything to go by, then
convincing him to join the crew would prove to be hard. The young pirate sure
had a temper.
Looking at him now, though, fast asleep and his face in a relaxed expression,
free from the frowns and angry faces of both the wanted posters and last night,
Ace looked young, really young, and Marco wondered how old he was. Eighteen had
been his guess until last night, but now he was inclined to believe sixteen
would be more accurate.
It was impressive how someone so young could have such strength.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Thatch sighed, glad of being a patient man, and looked over the side of the
ship.
“You should grab onto the rope and come up, you know.”
“FUCK OFF!” Was the yell that answered him, not for the first time.
It had been four days already since Ace woke up and, completely ignoring the
doctor’s advice and later orders that he had to rest, the brat had stalked off
the infirmary and disappeared somewhere into the ship, royally pissed off at
Thatch’s introduction and statement that they would be crewmates now as soon as
Ace woke up. Not even an hour later, the kid reappeared and attempted to take
Whitebeard’s head. He did so at least twice a day, his injuries getting worse
each time much to both the doctor and nurses’ horror, and tonight there had
been another attack. Just that Pops, half asleep as he was, hadn’t been so
careful when he threw the brat away and Ace had fallen overboard.
That had been an hour ago and the stubborn brat still refused to grab onto the
rope they had thrown down for him.
Next to Thatch, Marco’s brow twitched.
The first division commander might be an extremely patient man, but there were
limits to his patience, and stupidity tended to destroy it very easily. It was
a couple of hours after midnight and Marco had been on watch duty the day
before, which meant the phoenix hadn’t had much sleep and he was too
responsible to spend the whole morning asleep, as that usually resulted in
some, in Thatch’s opinion, extremely amusing circumstances that usually ended
when Marco found them and kicked the culprit across the deck. More often than
not, said culprit was Thatch.
But, to resume, Marco was short on sleep and wouldn’t be able to sleep in the
next day, which meant the man was in a bad mood and, Thatch was sure, he would
have jumped into the ocean and dragged the brat up just to beat him around and
throw him back into the water if he wasn’t a devil fruit user.
Thatch had tried to go into the water and catch Ace, but the brat was fast and
finally the commander had been forced to give up.
“Get Namur.” Marco ordered and, looking at the man, Thatch really wouldn’t want
to be in Ace’s shoes when the fishman brought him on board.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace glared up at the ceiling, extremely annoyed with his current predicament.
First the damn old geezer had punched him straight into the ocean, then that
stupid commander who insisted on act friendly had bothered him trying to offer
him help to come up, then the fishman commander dragged him on board and the
blond guy who looked like a pineapple, when Ace tried to get away from them,
had kicked him so hard it reminded Ace of one of his grandfather’s punches.
Stating that by no means was Ace going on his own again and messing with his
sleep, the blond man, Ace thought the others had called him Marco, dragged the
younger pirate with him and, much to Ace’s mortification, had forced him to
sleep on his bed, stating that this way Ace couldn’t get away and cause any
trouble at night.
And, apart from fucking strong, the guy regenerated himself from any wound.
Eventually Ace tired from trying to escape, his captor having long since fallen
asleep by then, and his mind wandered. Specifically, it went to the man behind
him who now had his arms around Ace’s torso. Once his mind cooled down a
little, it wasn’t hard to deduce what he had overlooked in his previous anger.
This man was Marco the Phoenix. Seeing his success against Whitebeard, Ace
doubted he would fare much better against the man’s first mate, and that pissed
him off.
Ace didn’t like to admit defeat.
Anger flaring anew, Ace kicked with his booted foot, as he had refused to take
his shoes off and the other had just shrugged, the man’s shin, eliciting a soft
groan and the cool, unfortunately not unpleasant, sensation of the man’s
healing flames coming to life.
The bastard didn’t even wake up.
 
===============================================================================
 
Marco sighed, his eyes following the retreating form of Ace after the boy had
been sent through two walls when his latest murder attempt, something involving
an axe, failed miserably.
Not far from him, some crewmembers exchanged money while others complained to
Pops about all the repairs they had to do to the ship because he wasn’t careful
with his aim when he threw Ace somewhere.
Marco ignored them, instead pondering everything that had happened these past
weeks. For starters, a week ago the assassination attempts had reduced from two
per day to just one. Some people speculated that it was because the boy was
finally starting to open to the idea of joining the crew, or at least losing
his resolve to kill Whitebeard, but Marco wasn’t so sure.
The kid looked worse at every passing day. Three days after the first night
Marco dragged him to sleep with him, the boy became really hard to find at
night but, as in the following days he made no further attempt at a nighttime
assassination, Marco let him be.
Now he wasn’t sure that had been a good idea.
Ace looked tired, a look at his face, even if short glimpses was the best Marco
could get as the boy spent most of the time in hiding, was enough to tell he
wasn’t getting enough sleep. And then there was the fact that he looked thinner
than when he came on board.
It was no surprise that the younger pirate didn’t appear by the mess hall to
eat with the crew, even though he had been offered in numerous occasions to
join them, but there had been reports of food going missing from the kitchens,
more than enough to feed a person, according to the cooks. Now, as Ace had
taken some seconds to stand up again after Whitebeard’s punch, Marco had been
able to have a good look at him and noticed how thin he was. Obviously, the
food he stole wasn’t enough for him.
Deciding this couldn’t go on, as it was unacceptable to let their new reluctant
crewmember kill himself, Marco turned around and headed for the kitchens.
It was close to lunch time, and so there was a lot of cooked food already.
Marco took a basket and stuffed it with a little of everything, ignoring the
questioning looks he received, before leaving again and concentrating on
sensing where the elusive moody brat could have gone to.
He found Ace in a mostly deserted part of deck, leaning against the railing and
seemingly staring distractedly off into the ocean. But he wasn’t distracted, as
his back tensed up as soon as Marco approached, and the younger pirate turned
around to glower at him, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What do you want?” He snapped, and Marco guessed he was still angry at him for
what happened the first few nights. Marco couldn’t say he was sorry about it,
it had not only ensured calm nights since then, but it had been nice to have a
warm body in his arms.
Marco lifted the basket.
“I brought food.”
Ace’s glower intensified.
“I don’t need it.” He snapped, and Marco raised an eyebrow.
“Really?” He asked skeptically, and before Ace could react he moved right in
front of him and placed a finger between two of his slightly protruding ribs.
“I think you do.”
Startled, Ace backed away and hit the railing behind him, aiming a punch at
Marco that the man avoided because he had been expecting it.
“What the fuck?!” The freckled pirate yelled.
“Now, are you going to eat here or do I have to drag you to lunch with everyone
else?” He said, offering him the basket.
Ace glared, but Marco was sure of what his answer would be. He had been doing
his best to avoid the crew despite the others’ efforts to befriend him, going
so far as to attack them until no one but the commanders and captain dared to
approach him and, sure enough, soon he sighed and took the proffered basket.
Plopping down on the floor, Ace gave him a murderous look when Marco sat next
to him, but the older man just raised both hands in a pacifying gesture.
“I’m just making sure you eat it.” He explained, but judging by the loud
grumble of the boy’s stomach it wouldn’t be necessary. Either way, Marco didn’t
go away, he wanted to use the chance to study him some more and, with some
luck, reach out to him.
Seeing the speed at which Ace started to inhale the food, the idea of
conversation fled Marco’s mind.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“He’s a sad kid, isn’t he?”
Marco turned to look at Thatch at that statement. It was the blond’s turn for
night watch and Thatch had decided to come with him. It was fine by Marco, as
watch duty was boring, though if he had been alone he would have done it
flying.
“Ace?”
“Yeah. He’s always alone and in a bad mood, and growls at anyone who approaches
him. Makes me want to go and drag him partying or something to see if he was
born frowning or can actually smile.”
Marco smiled at Thatch’s comment. He could say Ace hadn’t been born with that
frown on his face, but wasn’t stupid enough to voice it out loud and risk
Thatch’s teasing. Instead, he settled for saying something different.
“He’d probably try to bite your head off. He’s stubborn.”
They laughed, but Marco knew Thatch was worried about the boy. He wasn’t the
only one. It had been almost two months since Ace first arrived on the ship
and, despite the hope of some people when he passed from two daily
assassination attempts to one, he didn’t seem to be willing to change his mind.
He still tried to kill Whitebeard every day and kept mostly to himself,
stealing food from the kitchens and sleeping at random secluded corners of the
ship. They tried to talk to the boy and, if he was in one of his better moods,
he graced them with a snarl, an insult or a snappy answer. Sometimes Marco was
inclined to believe Ace had never been taught what social interaction was
about.
A loud crash drew their attention and they looked down in time to see Ace go
through what must have been his second wall of the flight before banging
against the next one, no further crash signaling he had stopped there.
“Wow, he’s tried a night attack, and here I thought you’d dissuaded him.”
Thatch whistled, amused. Marco frowned.
“Go to bed, Thatch.”
“What?” His friend asked, giving him a confused look.
“Go to bed, I just got myself new company.”
Not waiting for an answer, Marco jumped down from the crow’s nest and
approached the Ace-shaped hole the boy had just created, hearing Thatch coming
down as well as he entered through it.
There, sitting on the floor and rubbing his impossibly thick head was Ace, who
glared up at him as soon as Marco entered the hallway he was now in.
“Get up, you’re coming with me.”
“Get lost,” Ace snapped, standing up but trying to go down the hallway.
Marco grabbed him by the arm, Ace glared at him, Marco ignored the look and
started to drag him to the deck, Ace struggled and, when that didn’t work,
settled for attacking him, aiming a kick at Marco’s chest.
Luckily, the brat’s movements were sluggish and, a punch and kick later, Marco
managed to throw him over his shoulder, immobilizing Ace’s legs with an arm and
ignoring the strong punches against his back. Climbing back up to the crow’s
nest with only one arm and unable to transform his arms into wings lest Ace
tried to escape again proved to be a challenge, but Marco managed and, once up
there, addressed the boy.
“I’m going to put you down, if you try to escape or attack me I’ll beat you
into the ground, got that?” There was silence, though Ace’s punches stopped.
“Well?”
“Yes.” Came Ace’s reluctant answer.
“Will you behave?”
“Yeah.” This answer sounded even more reluctant, reminding Marco the boy was
just a teenager despite his monstrous strength. That probably explained part of
his constant bad mood.
Smiling softly, Marco put Ace down and released his legs. He almost laughed
when Ace moved as far from him as the small space allowed and sat on the floor,
arms crossed over his chest and eyes averted to the side.
Marco received another murderous glare when he moved to sit next to Ace.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace stared ahead, determined to stay silent and ignore the man next to him.
Marco had been the one to bring him here against his will, after all, and if he
wanted something he would have to say it. Ace wasn’t going to make things easy
for him.
The man didn’t take long to speak.
“So, what’s your problem?” Ace looked at him, feeling a mix between annoyance
and confusion, and didn’t answer. “I thought we had established that you
wouldn’t try anything stupid at night, but here you are now. And then there’s
your insistence on getting your ass kicked every day.”
“I said I’m going to kill that old man.” Ace said, refusing to think Marco was
the only one he was trying to convince with those words. He didn’t care how
many times the old man had beat him without even stopping what he was doing.
Ace had to beat him, that had been his purpose even before he entered the New
World. To defeat the strongest man in the world and prove he wasn’t like his
useless father. He wasn’t like him, and so he shouldn’t have to carry the man’s
sins.
“For what reason?” Marco asked again. Ace kept his mouth shut, resolute not to
tell him anything. The man looked at him, obviously waiting for an answer and,
when it didn’t come, spoke again. “It’s more common than you’d think for strong
pirates to try to take on Pops once they arrive at the New World, but they
always give up after one or two beatings. Yet, here you are, how knows how many
attempts later and still trying.”
Marco’s voice had been calm as he spoke, slightly curious at some point, but
Ace was surprised when there was nothing in it indicating he found amusing his
patheric failures. He drew his knees up and draped his arms around his legs,
resting his chin on the bent knees.
“I’m not going to tell you, alright? It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Really?” Now the man sounded slightly incredulous. “You’re trying to kill my
father but it’s got nothing to do with me?”
Ace glared ahead, annoyed at hearing the way this stupid crew addressed this
man.
“He’s your biological father or something?” He snapped, hoping the other pirate
would shut up. He didn’t.
“No.”
“Then why do you call him that? It’s annoying.” Ace practically growled, having
grown tired of the absurd farce these pirates insisted on put up acting as a
family.
“Because he calls us sons.”
“That’s stupid.” Ace muttered.
“Why? Do you think a family can only be related by blood?”
Ace felt a pang in his heart, the wound that never had completely healed
reminding him of it when his brain conjured an involuntary memory of Sabo, the
image of his brother’s grinning face with his missing tooth and shining eyes
full of hope for a better future as bright as it had ever been in Ace’s mind.
“No, but you guys all act as a huge family when you’re so many people it’s
impossible you know all of the others well enough for that.”
Marco didn’t answer immediately and for a moment Ace thought he had managed to
shut the irritating man up. He should have known better.
“You’re not a very trusting person, are you?”
“Why should I be?” He snapped. That should have been obvious since day one, but
here was this idiot just stating it. Ace didn’t trust people, so what? It
wasn’t as if the world had given him much reason to trust. He ignored the small
part of his brain saying that the pirates not only hadn’t treated him bad but
could have killed him at any moment.
“Is that why you refuse to join the crew?”
“No, I just don’t want to join you, is it so hard to understand?! And what’s
with you lot and wanting me to join your crew, anyway? You don’t know me. Hell,
I’m trying to kill your captain, shouldn’t you want me out of here?”
To his utter surprise and disconcert, Marco laughed. Here he was, exposing all
his reasons as to why it was a bad idea to keep him on board, hoping he could
finally make them see it would be best to just let him go and here was this guy
just laughing at them.
Ace held back the urge to raise his head and glare, aware that Marco seemed
immune the looks and reluctantly admitting his head might hurt due to his last
trip through the air.
“Pops likes you, that’s why he offered. And we like you too, that’s why we
insist.” The man said once he had got his laughter under control.
This time Ace did raise his head and turn it to look at Marco, blinking at the
man’s words and making sure he had heard him correctly. The man was smiling,
too, a lazy gesture that went well with his half-lidded eyes.
“Do you guys accept anyone in your crew or what?” Ace just couldn’t wrap his
mind around the concept. There people actually wanted in the crew someone who
basically attacked them, physical or verbally, every time they approached him.
Marco nodded. “Why?”
“Because we’re all outcasts. The world hates us, we would be hypocrites to turn
our backs on anyone who is in the same situation.”
Those words, spoken in a calm voice full of conviction, snapped Ace out of
whatever talkative mood had possessed him, a mood he would blame on the hit he
had taken to the head.
“I doubt you’d accept anyone.”
He never got to hear Marco’s answer, as then someone called for the commander
from below. It was his replacement, Marco’s watch was over. Ace was
disconcerted when, after standing up, the man held a hand out to him.
“Come, let’s go to bed.”
“Huh?” Ace uttered coherently, confused.
Marco’s eyebrows went higher into his forehead.
“You don’t expect me to leave you alone after that stunt earlier, right? Come
or I’ll drag you.”
Remembering how Marco had really dragged him to the cabin those three days Ace
had to sleep with him, he reluctantly took the offered hand.
Ace had already resolved not to fall into more attempts at conversation from
the man.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
When Ace woke up, he snuggled into the mattress, his body almost singing at the
wonder of finally sleeping on a bed instead of the hard floorboards.
He froze as soon as he remembered why he had been sleeping on the floor in the
first place and why he was now on a bed. At that same moment he became aware of
the arm draped around his waist and, his face heating considerably, he also
noticed something warm against his ass. Trying to get out of the bed as fast
and silently as possible, he moved to find the best way to push the arm off of
him and it was then he became aware of a third thing. The man behind him wasn’t
the only one with something hard.
Now he really had to get out of there. And fast.
The arm around him moved, luckily just holding him tighter and not going down,
and Ace realized the man’s breathing wasn’t even enough for sleep.
“You awake?” He asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Let me go, I want to
go.”
“Why?” Marco asked, not moving. He didn’t sound drowsy, which meant he probably
had been awake for a while. Ace mentally shot the part of his brain that
wondered what had the man been doing until Ace woke up.
“It’s morning, I haven’t tried to kill anyone. Your job’s done, now let go.” He
ground out through gritted teeth. His erection should have softened with the
situation and his anger, but no, the damn thing was still there, posing a
challenge as to how Ace would manage to stand up, put his boots on and leave
without the other man noticing.
“Are you sure?” Marco asked, and Ace’s eyes opened like saucers when he grabbed
him through his pants.
“F-Fuuck…”
“And this doesn’t have anything to do with it?” Marco asked against his neck,
so close Ace could feel the smirk on the man’s lips on his skin. Then the blond
kissed his neck. Ace bit his lower lip, forcing himself to stay in control when
that hand moved again. “I could help you, you know.”
“No.” Ace answered, too flustered to congratulate himself for how steady his
voice came out.
“Pity.” And, just like that, Marco let go of him.
It took a couple of confused moments for Ace to comprehend the man had just
agreed to his request without complaint. He hadn’t insisted, hadn’t tried to
convince him by arousing him further. He had just let go of him. Ace hadn’t
been expecting that.
The younger pirate stood up from the bed, movements slightly awkward, and went
to retrieve his boots, that he had kicked out the night before because, as he
had learnt the first night he spent in this cabin, sleeping on a bed with boots
on wasn’t worth it just to show one’s annoyance with the situation.
Once he had them, he sat on the floor to put them on.
“Ace.”
“Yeah?” He asked, not turning away from his task.
“If you change your mind, come find me.”
The boy turned so fast that he almost hurt his neck. Marco was now sitting on
the bed and looking at him. The man had taken his shirt off the night before
and, sitting there with the sheet fallen around his waist, giving the
impression that the man was completely naked beneath it, Ace would have really
liked to go back to the bed and said he had changed his mind. But he didn’t,
because Marco wasn’t a one night stand he wouldn’t see ever again, he was a man
that, for now, Ace was forced to live with.
So, instead, he stood up trying to appear indifferent to both the man and his
obvious arousal and said:
“I won’t need it.”
He hadn’t paid attention to Marco pushing the sheet aside as he answered, but
he almost jumped out of his skin when, before he had time to turn to leave,
Marco pulled his pants open.
Ace’s blush came back with a vengeance at what he saw.
“W-What are you doing?!”
Marco directed a deadpan look his way.
“That you don’t want help doesn’t mean I’m not going to take care of this.”
And Ace most definitely did not flee the room when Marco wrapped his hand
around his generous length.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
It had been hard but, around noon, Ace had been able to find a secluded place
where he hadn’t hidden before. After his conversation last night with Marco,
Ace had finally admitted to himself that he needed to think.
His plan at first had been easy: kill Whitebeard and then try to get the fuck
away from the crew before anyone killed him. If he didn’t manage to escape,
then go down fighting. It was supposed to be easy, the worst that could have
happened was that Whitebeard killed him if Ace failed.
But nothing seemed to be easy with this crew.
He had lost, but instead of killing him, Whitebeard had decided he wanted him
as a ‘son’ and brought him onboard. All of Ace’s attempts to kill the man had
failed miserably, as he hadn’t been able to even injure the man, and the crew,
that Ace had expected to be wary of him and to want him out of their ship, had
instead accepted him as one of theirs when Ace himself didn’t want to be.
That meant he was invited to join into games or parties every time he was
spotted, they always tried to help him out of the water when he fell overboard
after one of his failed attempts, people greeted him as if he was one more of
their crew instead of an enemy and they insisted on healing his wounds. Ace
didn’t allow it, of course, which usually resulted in two or three commanders
holding him down while the doctor or a nurse tended to his numerous injuries.
There were also more subtle things that, though he noticed, Ace had refused to
acknowledge before. Like the kitchen door. The pirates must have noticed the
disappearing food, especially after Marco came with that basket and Ace decided
it would be better to just steal more food and save himself what at the moment
he thought was pity, but the door was never closed, nor was there anyone
watching the place. It was just open for Ace to take as much food as he wanted.
Ace wasn’t sure when exactly it had been, but somewhere between snarled
comments and snappy answers he had accepted on a subconscious level that he did
like these people. They were friendly, carefree and, though they teased a lot
and liked fights, weren’t cruel. Oh, Ace was sure they could be fearsome
enemies if one of theirs was in danger, but the thing was that they, despite
his best efforts, considered Ace one of theirs.
And, as much as he would like to, he couldn’t say he really minded.
But that couldn’t be.
If it was any other crew, Ace would have considered giving in, apologize for
the trouble he had caused and accept the offer to join them. But not this crew,
not the Whitebeard Pirates. He couldn’t.
And so, Ace spent the rest of the day pondering the best way to get out of the
ship.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace leaned against the railing of one of the upper deck, looking down at the
impressive party going below that promised a lot of hungover and cranky pirates
the next morning.
Days ago, had Ace gotten out of his current hideout and stumbled upon a party
that seemed to encompass the whole crew, he would have gone back into hiding
complaining about stupid pirates, but now he was curious to see what a party on
the Moby Dick was like.
Apparently, it entailed more alcohol than Ace had thought was on board, lots of
embarrassing games, people passed out and being drawn on or subjected to other
pranks they wouldn’t appreciate when they woke up and, for some reason,
disappearing clothes. That and lots of laughter, of course.
Ace was pulled out of his observations by someone coming to stand next to him,
and he turned to see Marco there, two big tankards in hand. He had a soft smirk
on his face, and looked far sober than any of the idiots below.
“I’m surprised you’re here instead of sulking in some dark corner.” The older
pirate said as a greeting, and Ace’s almost default response, a glare, was
triggered. The man was as unaffected by it as always.
“Maybe I’m tired of corners.” Ace half-snapped, though he wasn’t really angry
or annoyed. After thinking over these past months, he had to admit the comment
was a more than accurate description of his lifestyle on the Moby Dick.
Marco smiled and offered him one of the tankards. Ace accepted it, prompting
the smile to grow slightly, and the man moved to lean on the railing next to
him. They stayed in silence, just looking down at the party. Marco chuckled
and, following his line of sight, Ace saw a bunch of plastered men who
apparently had formed what must be teams and were trying to steal the clothes
from one another. Ace had to smile.
“What are you guys celebrating?” Ace finally asked, breaking their silence.
“Haruta’s birthday.”
Ace had learned that Haruta was one of the commanders, one of the people who
volunteered to hold him down for the doctor more often. Ace scanned the area
below until he spotted said commander laughing loudly in a group of pirates.
It seemed it was a good birthday.
“When’s your birthday?” Marco asked, bringing his attention back to the man.
“Oh, the first of January. Why?”
Marco clicked his tongue, looking annoyed for a moment.
“So it was last month?” Ace nodded and, much to his surprise, the blond man
placed a hand on his cheek and leaned to kiss the corner of his lips. Ace
froze. “Sorry we didn’t celebrate, but I guess you were trying to get Pops’
head as a present, mh?”
Ace averted his eyes, for some reason half convinced he had blushed. Yes, he
could admit his assassination attempts had gone a little too far, but he
refused to be embarrassed by them. It was bad enough that these pirates took
them as a source for their jokes.
“How old are you, then?” Marco asked, and Ace was glad he had dropped the other
topic.
“Sixteen.”
He looked at the man again, surprised, when Marco chuckled, and tilted his head
in confusion.
“You know, if I was a decent person I’d be ashamed for wanting to take someone
so young into my bed.” The pirate explained, grinning.
Ace felt proud that he barely blushed. He might have sexual experience, but
that didn’t mean he was comfortable talking about sex. It wasn’t a topic he was
used to, and for some reason he couldn’t understand it embarrassed him.
“I’ve been in your bed already.” He pointed out. Marco’s grin grew slightly.
“You know what I mean.”
Yes, Ace did and, he thought, maybe he could get that one night stand with
Marco before leaving the ship. Just to sate his curiosity and recent interest
in the man, of course.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
After some internal debate, Ace had figured it would be best to catch the man
in a good mood, and that’s why, when he saw the captain leave the party, he
waited around half an hour before slipping away from Marco and heading to the
man’s room. Opening the door silently and getting in was easy, though, if he
had to go by his previous experiences there, the man already know he was there.
Sure enough, when Ace just stood by the door without moving an inch, Whitebeard
spoke.
“Well, this is new. Are you trying to glare me to death or something?”
“Tried that already, but it didn’t work.” The huge man laughed loudly and, when
he quieted down, Ace said: “I need to talk to you.”
Whitebeard sat up on the bed, apparently picking up on Ace’s serious tone of
voice as he didn’t comment on the oddity of the request.
It was the first time Ace bothered to try to talk to the man, his interactions
with him so far consisting of murder attacks and sometimes insults when he
failed.
“Listen, I’m sorry about this whole killing you thing, alright? I just thought
I could prove something with it, but I was wrong there. Not that I can kill you
anyway, but still.” He started, speaking faster than he had intended and trying
to ignore the fact that he was rambling a little. “I know you want me to join
the crew, but I really can’t stay. It’s got nothing to do with wanting you dead
or not, I swear, it’s just I really, honestly, can’t stay here, so I was
wondering if you could just let me stay in whatever island the ship stops next.
If it’s part of your territory I swear I won’t do anything, just go on my way.”
Ace took a deep breath after saying all that without a pause and waited in the
tense silence that followed.
“The reason you think you can’t stay is the same why you wanted to kill me?”
The captain finally asked.
Ace cursed mentally. He had really hoped, as improbable as it was, that the man
would just let him leave without questions. He really didn’t want to answer
that, worried about the reaction to his words, but he had assumed hours ago he
most likely would have to explain.
Sighing, Ace nodded.
“What is it, son?” Whitebeard asked again when Ace hadn’t still managed to put
the words together.
A pang struck Ace’s chest at that word. Son. In some deep level, one he refused
to acknowledge since he became old enough to understand why the world would
hate him if it became known he existed, Ace had always wondered what it would
feel like to be called that by someone whose guts he didn’t hate. In that
precise moment, that word hurt.
“Don’t call me that.” He mumbled, apparently loud enough for Whitebeard to
hear.
“Why not?”
“You’ll regret it when you hear me out.” Ace said, shaking his head. Taking a
deep breath, he decided to just get it over with. “My full name is Portgas D.
Ace, though that was my mother’s surname. My birth name was Gol D. Ace.”
There, he had said it. Ace knew Whitebeard had been Roger’s enemy long before
the government decided to change the Pirate King’s name for some reason, and
had no doubt the man would recognize the name. He looked down at the
floorboards, not wanting to see in the man’s eyes the scorn and disgust he had
seen so many times as a child at the mere mention of the possibility of Roger
having a son. Whitebeard had always looked at him fondly, despite Ace’s best
efforts to not only kill him, but to be as rude and annoying as possible with
the man. Now that was over.
For the last few months he had thought he wanted Whitebeard to act like a
proper enemy and hate or despise him. Now that it would happen, the idea didn’t
sit well with him.
Whitebeard laughed. Ace raised his head, completely disconcerted, staring up at
him. He wanted to ask what he was laughing about, but the words refused to come
out of his mouth. It didn’t take long for the man to get his laugher under
control and look down at Ace. The boy was taken aback by his expression. The
legendary pirate was amused, sure, but there was no scorn or disgust on his
face, the same fondness from before still present there.
“So that’s why you wanted me dead? To prove you could do something Roger
couldn’t?” Ace nodded. The man laughed again.
“You’re not mad?”
“Roger and I may have been enemies, Ace, but we didn’t hate each other. He was
a decent guy.”
Ace’s eyes opened in surprise, Rayleigh’s words from back at Sabaody resounding
back in his head. ‘Maybe you should ask about him to those who knew him instead
of forming an opinion based on what people who never met Roger think.’
“But-“
Whitebeard shook his head, cutting him off.
“Even if I did hate Roger, that wouldn’t change anything. Everybody is a child
of the ocean, it doesn’t matter who your parents are. No one would look down on
you for it here, but, if you really want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
“I…” Ace closed his mouth before saying anything, at a loss of words.
“Why don’t you give it some thought? There’s no hurry, right?”
Ace nodded and turned around, still confused. He muttered a soft ‘good night’,
and felt a strange warmth when he received an answer. Opening the door and
closing it behind himself once he was out, he was so deep in thought he didn’t
realize he wasn’t alone in the hallway until he looked up to see in what
direction he would search for a place to stay the night.
There, leaning against the wall opposite the door, barely two or three feet to
the right, was Marco, arms crossed and a serious expression on his face.
Ace tensed, unsure of how to react. Had the man overheard everything? He
decided it would be best to act oblivious.
“What are you doing here?”
“When you left the party I thought you might try something stupid again, so I
followed you.” Marco was still serious and, taking a step forward more to
reassure himself he wasn’t afraid than because he wanted to stand closer to the
man, Ace guessed the answer to his unasked question.
“You heard.” He stated, not sure what else he could say, or how Marco would
react.
“I did.”
Another uncomfortable silence, just like the ones inside Whitebeard’s cabin,
stretched between them until Ace finally broke it.
“I guess you’re not so eager to get me in your bed now.”
Marco pushed away from the wall and stood in front of Ace, two feet separating
them.
“Is that what you think? That everybody will be disgusted when they discover
who you are?”
Ace shrugged, his stomach clenching at the seriousness in Marco’s voice, unable
to discern what the man was thinking.
“Isn’t it true?”
In the blink of an eye Marco was right before him, lips pressed against Ace’s
and hands cupping the sides of his face, fingertips tangling into Ace’s dark
locks. It was a forceful gesture but, at the same time, not a violent kiss. A
much more convincing answer to Ace than any words could probably have been.
It didn’t last long, and when Marco pulled away he rested his forehead against
Ace’s.
“I don’t care. You could be the son of a sea monster and I wouldn’t give a
fuck. You’re a good guy, Ace, and that’s what matters.” Ace bit his lower lip,
again at a loss about what to say. Marco saved him from having to answer when
he grinned and said: “Though this explains why you’re so stubborn.”
Growling, Ace pushed the man away and crossed his arms, refusing to admit he
might be embarrassed by the comment.
“What will you do?” Marco asked after a short pause.
Ace looked down at the ground and mulled over the question before answering.
“I don’t know. You and the old man… You guys may be fine with me being here,
but I doubt everybody will.”
He looked up when Marco placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you want to join the crew?”
Ace looked away again, unsure of how to answer.
“I don’t know, I haven’t given it much thought.” He might have realized he
liked the crew, but, as he hadn’t thought he would really have a chance to stay
with them once he spoke with Whitebeard, Ace hadn’t considered that
possibility.
“Think it over. And don’t worry about what others will do. You don’t have to
tell them anything you don’t want to but, if you do, don’t think everybody will
turn their backs on you.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Portgas D. Ace had to bite the inner part of his cheek to hold back a laugh
when he saw the incredulous expressions taking over the faces of the people who
were there as soon as they noticed he had entered the mess hall.
Acting as if he was unaware of the stares following him, the pirates breaking
into fast whispers as soon as he had passed them, Ace went to the bar, grabbed
the biggest tray he could find available and covered it in as many empty plates
as he could fit into the surface. Then he proceeded to load them with as much
food as it was possible for them to carry. With the practiced ease of someone
who has done it hundreds of times, Ace placed on top of the food a second line
of plates in precarious balance and filled these plates as well. During all
this he had to resist the urge to laugh as in some faces the incredulity grew
even further while others morphed into horrified fascination. Some isolated
cases even assumed various shades of unhealthy-looking green colors. He spied
many people placing a hand over their bellies with pained expressions on their
faces.
The incredulity around him only grew further when Ace headed resolutely to the
table where the captain was sitting.
Marco stood up and took the tray from him to place it on the table, making it
considerably easier for Ace to sit down.
“That’s a lot of food.” The man commented as he sat down again.
“I’m hungry.” Ace explained, plopping down in the bench. He wasn’t going to
enter into detail about how he still hadn’t been eating enough, despite Marco’s
so clear message what seemed to be an eternity ago. He hadn’t thought the cooks
would appreciate that food for twenty people disappeared three or four times a
day.
“Morning, brat.” Whitebeard greeted him, amusement plain in his voice as he
looked around at his sons.
“Morning, old man.”
And, just like that, the silence that had fallen as Ace’s tray filled with
food, was broken and hundreds of voices rose in what was the most impressive
example of gossip Ace had ever witnessed.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
‘No, I haven’t joined the crew.’
‘No, I haven’t softened, say that again and I’ll punch you through a wall.’
Those were some of the responses Ace had given to the barrage of questions
thrown his way once the crew got past the shock of seeing him enter the mess
hall for breakfast.
Despite his threats, it didn’t take long for the pirates to realize Ace was
much less inclined to attack them than mere days ago, and then they started to
fight over him and to drag him around the ship.
Ace had been given a delayed tour of the Moby Dick, lots of advice about living
with the crew and a list of things he should avoid doing. He had also been
buried in almost constant questions.
Currently, Ace was sitting on a crate watching a dozen men get ridiculously
wasted while he still nursed his first drink. The others had just thought he
still didn’t feel comfortable enough to get drunk with them and had left things
at that, taking it as progress that he was even willing to drink with them at
all. Ace had let them believe that. They weren’t exactly wrong, he didn’t feel
entirely comfortable lowering his guard around so many people he didn’t know,
but what he refused to let them know was that he didn’t have practice drinking,
had barely no resistance to alcohol and refused to look like an idiot.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace turned around in what had been his improvised bed since those conversations
with Whitebeard and later with Marco; a mountain of blankets on the floor of a
storeroom serving as both mattress and covers. The first night after they
talked, Marco had offered him to sleep at his cabin, just sleep if he didn’t
want anything else, but Ace had refused, saying he needed to think everything
over. Not even an hour later, Marco had tracked him down and shoved the pile of
blankets into his arms.
And now here he was, at what was probably not long before dawn, turning in his
makeshift bed, his mind swirling with thoughts.
This past week had been strange, to say the least. The crew had accepted him
with open arms, acting as if he hadn’t spent the last few months trying to kill
their captain. They had included him in their conversations, their games and,
in the commanders’ case, even their training sessions. They explained the
reasons behind a joke when Ace didn’t know them, treated him as if he was one
of them and were much more prone to non-violent physical contact than Ace had
ever been exposed to.
It was disconcerting to feel so welcome somewhere and, Ace had realized with
surprise, he liked it.
He couldn’t imagine being without it now that he had experienced the feeling.
Sitting up resolutely, Ace put on his discarded boots, stood and gathered all
the blankets in his arms.
Up until this point, he hadn’t realized he knew this ship so well that he could
move through it in almost total darkness and still reach his intended
destination.
Maneuvering the blankets to hold them all with only one arm, he raised the now
freed hand and knocked on the door before him.
He heard movement inside and a faint light came out from under the door, the
door that was soon opened by a bleary eyed, naked Marco. Ace felt himself blush
and swallowed hard.
“Ace?” The man asked.
“Did I wake you?” The younger pirate asked, now feeling guilty for not having
thought of how late, or early, it was. This could probably have waited a few
more hours.
“Yeah. What’s it?”
Ace swallowed again, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Marco’s face despite
his nervousness. Looking down now would mean getting a nice, though completely
inconvenient at the moment, view that wouldn’t help his nervousness at all.
Reminding himself he couldn’t change what was already done, he showed the man
the blankets.
“I don’t need these anymore.”
Marco stared confusedly at them for a moment. Then, faster than his half-asleep
state should have allowed, he grabbed Ace by his free arm, pulled him inside
and the blankets fell to the cabin’s room as Ace found himself being kissed
again, and he kissed back.
The door closed noisily, ignored by both of them, too busy as they were
practically devouring each other with mouth, tongue and teeth. Ace wound his
arms around Marco’s neck, pressing closer against the man and feeling his more
than obvious reaction.
Marco’s hands came around his waist and dove right into his pants, Ace’s not
too tight belt allowing it easily. Ace wriggled his ass against those hands,
wondering why he had to be dressed and couldn’t be conveniently naked like
Marco. Clothes were such a nuisance sometimes. Luckily, his pants were soon
dealt with, and Ace kicked them aside along with the boots he managed to
blindly take out, pressing again against Marco and moaning into his mouth when
their erections touched. There was a nice advantage about being with someone
not too much taller than him, he just had to stand on his tiptoes and he could
rub against the man.
In that moment, Ace realized how much he had needed this. It had been too long
since the last time he had sex, before he arrived on the Moby Dick, and he
hadn’t even masturbated properly for fear of being caught.
He had to lower his arms to let Marco pull his shirt down, and with that Ace
was naked at last. He frowned when Marco pulled back from the kiss and tried to
capture his lips again, but the man stopped him placing his hands on Ace’s
shoulders, a soft smile on his lips.
“Are you joining the crew, then?”
Ace nodded vigorously, probably with more enthusiasm that he would have used in
any other circumstance.
“Yeah. You guys aren’t too bad.”
Marco’s smile grew in amusement at Ace’s choice of words, and his hands went
down Ace’s back and to his ass once more.
“I guess I’ll have to welcome you to the family then.”
Right, Ace reminded himself. These people were more than a crew, they were a
family, with a father and lots of brothers and sisters. He chuckled.
“That sounds so wrong in this situation.”
“We’re pirates, we’re supposed to be immoral, deviants and all that.” The man
said with a grin, one hand massaging Ace’s cheek as the other moved, and Ace
felt a finger brushing over his entrance. He moved to get more contact, but the
finger just retreated. He growled at the man.
“You aren’t going to tease me, are you?” He asked. He didn’t have the patience
for that right now, between his forced celibacy and the stress of the past
months.
“I’d love to, but I want to fuck you too much for that. Later.”
Ace nodded and, deciding they could leave the talk for later, kissed Marco
again, pushing the man backwards until they reached the bed. As soon as they
were there, the older man switched their positions, placing himself on top of
Ace.
Marco leaned over to the nightstand and pulled out a jar of lube. He opened it
and, without looking at what he was doing, began to cover three of his fingers
with it. All the while his eyes roamed over Ace’s body. The younger pirate felt
exposed and, much to his embarrassment, somewhat self-conscious. None of his
previous bed partners had looked at him like that. They had admired his body,
of course, but Marco was practically devouring him with his eyes, and he was
sure the only reason the man’s hands weren’t all over him was because they were
occupied with the lube. Ace briefly wondered if this was how food felt like
when he stared at it. Or what it would feel if it had the capacity.
Fuck, he was nervous. He really needed to stop thinking stupid shit.
Looking up from Marco’s hands, Ace’s eyes landed on the man’s neck, and he
thought he really would like to leave a mark there, just so nobody would be so
stupid to try anything with him. Before he could move, however, Marco spoke.
“Tell me, Ace, are you a virgin?”
Ace smirked. Was that what Marco expected? That he was too young to have any
experience?
“No.” He answered, and felt oddly pleased at seeing Marco’s frown. “Jealous?”
Marco leaned over him, face very close to Ace’s, his hand going down his body,
as the boy could feel the lubed fingertips brushing slightly over his stomach.
“And if I am?”
“That’s too bad for you. Though there’s some stuff I haven’t done with anybody
before.” He answered, remembering that he had never felt comfortable at the
prospect of sucking someone off. Men had done it to him, but Ace had never
wanted to return the favor. With Marco, perhaps…
“Oh? Like what?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you later.” Ace said, grinning, and gasped when a finger that
hadn’t been there suddenly breached his asshole. “Fuck!”
Marco raised an eyebrow, a curious look in his eyes. He moved the finger, that
was tighter than Ace remembered it had been the last time inside of him.
“You haven’t had sex in a while, have you?” The man asked, sounding oddly
pleased with that fact. Ace felt the urge to glare at him, despite their
situation, and so he did. Marco wasn’t bothered by it, of course.
“How could I? You had me kidnapped here.”
Marco shrugged, apparently deciding not to argue the obvious point they both
knew about how Ace could have gone in land with the rest of the crew, and a
second finger joined the first.
“Better for me. I can pretend you’re a virgin now.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” Ace growled, and Marco just moved the fingers, raising
his eyebrows, moved the fingers some more and Ace moaned. Smiling as soon as he
could. Many men he had been with hadn’t cared much about finding that spot that
made Ace see stars, but Marco seemed to know what he was doing, and Ace was
feeling more and more glad about his decision.
Marco’s other hand, that hadn’t been doing much, wrapped around his erection
and moved over it, caressing, squeezing and generally pleasing Ace as the
fingers continued to move. Ace was so distracted, moaning and by some miracle
remembering to keep his voice low as other people in the hallway were asleep,
that he didn’t pay any mind to the third finger that entered him.
He would have complained, however, when the fingers disappeared, except that he
could see perfectly, once he opened the eyes he hadn’t even noticed he had
closed, what came next. Marco’s hands were covering the man’s erection with
lube, and Ace’s eyes were fixed on it. He squirmed and clenched his ass,
feeling empty after the earlier attentions that hadn’t been enough. If Marco
hadn’t been kneeling between his legs, he would have pressed them together as
well.
Marco smiled down at him, and Ace was sure the man knew what he needed.
As Marco shifted his position, Ace saw him wipe his hands on the sheet, and
then Ace’s legs were raised, one placed over Marco’s shoulder and the other
held by the man’s elbow.
Ace didn’t flinch, he had never done it, and both men groaned at the feeling of
being joined together.
Marco let go of his legs, and Ace moved them to wrap around the man so he
wouldn’t have to hold them up. The blond leaned down, nose to nose with Ace,
and a soft smirk stretched his lips.
“Need time to adjust?”
“Shut up and fuck me.” Ace growled, and Marco did just that.
The dark haired pirate leaned up to kiss Marco, deciding their mouths had been
too long without one another, the gesture conveniently muffling the moans he
wouldn’t be able to keep low much longer. His hips moved to meet Marco’s
thrusts, attempting to find the man’s pace and follow it, which was complicated
as both Marco and Ace were accelerating with no pattern, trying to get the most
contact, the most pleasure out of the other, and trying to give the most
pleasure as they did so.
Ace held Marco’s head with both hands, keeping him there, kissing him, as their
movements became frantic, losing any pretence of rhythm they had followed, and
one of Marco’s hands found his erection again, pumping it with an urgency that
hadn’t been there before.
And Ace came. He almost smothered himself in Marco’s mouth, clenching the
length inside him and covering their chests and half of the man’s arm in cum,
his scream drowned as was another of which he was barely aware of, too lost
into himself.
Marco was on top of him, panting heavily and still inside, and Ace couldn’t say
he minded the weight on his chest as he himself tried to get his breathing
under control. He felt Marco pulling out of him, and then an arm draped around
his shoulders and moved him to rest on Marco’s chest as the man turned to lie
on his back on the bed.
Ace grinned.
“That was good.”
“You’ll want a repeat, then?” Despite it being a question, Marco sounded as if
he already knew the answer. Ace was in too much of a good mood to give even a
cursory glare.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind.”
He raised his head, thinking he would like a slow kiss after all the activity,
and froze when he saw Marco’s face. All the blood left Ace’s face. There, on
Marco’s cheeks, were deep gashes, some of them having even drawn a few drops of
blood. Five red gashes on each side.
“Oh, fuck.” Marco just smiled at him and raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry!” He
hurried to add, and then apologized again just in case. He had scratched
Marco’s face. He had scratched Marco’s face. This event took a comfortable
place amongst the most embarrassing occurrences in his whole life. The blood
rushed all back up to his face and Ace knew he must look like a tomato.
Marco chuckled, and blue flames surged over the damaged area, leaving behind
skin that didn’t seem to have ever taken any damage.
“You know, if they were on my back I would’ve left them, but I don’t want to
imagine the jokes about scratches on my face.” Marco commented, and Ace blushed
deeper, feeling like a complete idiot.
“Sorry about that.” He muttered.
A hand in his hair, and Ace got the slow kiss he had intended to get earlier.
Then Marco spoke.
“Are you tired?” Ace shook his head. He hadn’t slept much lately, but he didn’t
feel especially tired. Marco grinned. “Great.”
And the man turned them around, leaving Ace under him once more.
“Again?” The younger pirate asked, incredulous. But he wouldn’t admit he hadn’t
ever done it more than once at a time.
“I said I’d tease you later, remember?”
Ace frowned, and looked up at him challengingly.
“Not now.” He said and, grabbing Marco by the shoulder, reversed their
positions. The blond just smiled, intrigued at the change. “I’m going to make
you beg to let you fuck me.” Ace stated, and Marco chuckled.
“You can try.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
There were some essential things any marine discovered short after being
transferred to headquarters. Most of these things, though not all of them, were
related to vice admiral Monkey D. Garp, the hero of the marines who had fought
the Pirate King back in the day.
Almost all of the new additions to headquarters had heard of the man, and they
regarded him as a model figure, the ideal marine, just as the stories they had
heard described him. Garp was indeed very strong and an incredibly decided
individual, no one could argue that, but new marines soon discovered the
stories they had heard about him had been embellished, probably to use as a way
to attract recruits: the story of a boy of humble origins who rose to the top
of the marines. It was the dream of many children. Sure, Garp was that, but he
was much more, and that was something that had been carefully left out of the
stories.
And that takes us back to one of the things the newbies learned: Garp was as
strong as he was insane. Complete and absolutely out of his mind. And he liked
to demonstrate both things in the way of random training sessions to whoever
was unfortunate enough to be close to the man when the mood struck him. He also
had a habit of appearing at the new classes and taking over from the
instructors. In less than a minute, any awe the students might have felt for
him was replaced by utterly visceral terror. Or unconsciousness, in some lucky
cases.
Today, however, the experience had been far more horrifying than what was
dubbed ‘Garp’s Welcome Beating’. Contrary to usual, the man hadn’t stopped his
‘lesson’ once his students were passed out or completely unable to move. This
time it had taken Sengoku’s intervention to get the vice admiral away from the
men, and then the three admirals had been forced to intervene as well to ensure
the fight that broke out between the two veteran marines didn’t last for at
least a week and destroy the entirety of Marineford.
The five high ranking officers had ended up in the infirmary, but Garp had
stormed off before his wounds could be tended to.
No one, not even Sengoku, knew what had got the man in such a frighteningly bad
mood, and no one suspected it had to do with something that had came in the
fifth page of that morning’s paper.
And for Garp, not even that great work-out had served to improve his mood.
That. Fucking. Brat.
After months of there not being a single article about Ace and absolutely no
information on his activities, months that Garp had spent worrying that
something had happened to him, now the brat had showed up again.
As a member of the Whitebeard Pirates. The fucking brat.
Garp guessed, for a pirate crew, Ace could have done much worse, but it was a
pirate crew all the same. It wasn’t enough that the brat had refused a position
as a Shichibukai, and Garp might have both laughed his ass off and been
extremely pissed at that childish answer of his, but now he was attracting even
more attention to himself by joining Whitebeard.
And Garp couldn’t just show up on the Moby Dick and scold his grandson as he
deserved. He guessed he could pass the visit off as one of his random decisions
to go fight Whitebeard, decisions that Sengoku really hated, but he couldn’t
trust those damned pirates not to spread out the truth about his relationship
with Ace. Because there was no way in hell Newgate would let him beat the shit
out of one of his precious sons without giving him a good reason for it first.
Maybe, if Ace didn’t do anything too outrageous, he would simply be regarded as
one more of the Whitebeard Pirates and not attract the government’s attention,
surrounded by all those other monsters in the crew.
Yeah, sure.
That bastard Newgate better take care of his beloved grandson until Garp found
a way to visit without risking to alert Sengoku and the rest of the government
to the identity of Ace’s father.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Ace fell with a resounding crash on top of some crates that had been lying on
deck, effectively destroying them and scattering their contents around.
Contents that luckily had been neither food nor booze.
Marco frowned from his sitting position on the steps, from where he had been
watching the fight between a now grinning Thatch and a scowling Ace, who
accepted the hand of his finally-friend to stand up.
The first division commander rose to his feet and approached the two men before
they could start another round.
“Ace,” both men turned to look at him, “why didn’t you use haki?” Marco asked.
“Haki?”
“What?!” Thatch exclaimed, rubbing a sore spot of his upper left arm where Ace
had kicked him. He turned to look at the boy. “You weren’t fighting seriously?”
Was his visibly offended question.
“I was serious!” Ace answered, and then turned to Marco. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t used haki in any of your attacks.”
“What’s haki?” Ace asked, confused, and confusing Marco as well. Before he
could answer, however, Thatch intervened.
“Oh, come on, Marco, you can’t scold the kid for not using haki if he doesn’t
know how to use it.”
“But he does.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he used it against Pops all the time. You didn’t notice?”
“Nah, I was too busy laughing my ass off.” Thatch answered with a grin.
“Oi!” Ace yelled at Thatch, then directed his attention back to Marco.
“Seriously, what are you talking about?”
Seeing Ace’s expression, it was obvious he had no idea what haki was. Maybe he
had heard it called something else, Marco knew it received different names at
certain places in the world. If he wasn’t mistake, Kenbunshoku Haki was
referred to as ‘Mantra’ in some sky islands.
“That power you used against Pops to make your attacks stronger.”
“Oh, that’s called haki? I didn’t know.”
“So you have haki.” Thatch exclaimed accusingly, leaning so close to his face
that he forced the boy to lean back. “Why didn’t you use it, then?”
Ace shrugged.
“I didn’t want to get mad.”
A confused silence followed those words. Marco chanced a glance at Thatch and,
seeing his friend had no clue as to what Ace meant with that either, he looked
back at Ace.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I need to be in a bad mood for it to work, and I didn’t want to get
pissed at you guys, so…” Ace said, shrugging.
Another confused silence, this time soon broken by Thatch’s incredulous voice.
“Who the fuck told you that?”
Now it was Ace who was confused.
“What?”
“Ace,” Marco spoke, sighing, “you don’t need to be angry to use haki, it’s all
a matter of learning to control it.”
“Really?” The younger pirate asked, both surprised and slightly hopeful. Marco
imagined this was good news for him.
“Yes. Am I wrong in guessing you can also predict others’ movements?”
Ace hesitated, bit his bottom lip and rubbed the back of his head. Marco was
curious at this clearly embarrassed reaction, but he had an explanation soon
enough.
“Kinda. It happens sometimes, but I don’t know how to control it, so I don’t
count on it while fighting. You can learn how to use that, too?” Ace looked so
hopeful and excited that Marco had to hold back the impulse of kissing him. The
conversation was far too serious to interrupt it with a quick fuck on deck.
“Yeah.”
“Any other surprises we need to know?” Thatch asked jokingly and, to both older
men’s surprise, Ace nodded.
“Sometimes I can make people faint. I don’t know how that works, either.”
Marco had to admit he was impressed at that admission, but it was Thatch who
put his feelings into words.
“Haoshoku Haki? Cool.” Whistled the fourth division commander. Passing his arm
over Ace’s shoulder, he continued. “I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Pops help
with that one. But, for the other two, Marco here will make a great teacher.”
And then, the traitor just left, leaving Marco with the job to teach Ace how to
properly use his haki. Marco might have wanted to kick him but, to be honest,
he preferred to be the one to teach Ace, so he limited his annoyance to stick
Thatch with the worst watch shifts for the next month.
Ace looked up at him.
“I’m going to get my ass kicked, right?” He asked, a soft grin taking over his
face. Marco grinned back.
“That’s part of the training.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
A new duty had joined the Moby Dick’s list of feared chores. Haki duty.
Part of it was easy enough, and even fun sometimes, it was the one Marco was in
charge of, in which the ones doing it had to do what the commander told them to
see if Ace could sense their movements or where they were. It was Marco himself
who attacked Ace to practice the part where he had to predict attacks and use
haki on his own, as the time they tried it with another crewmember the man had
ended up at the infirmary, so the rest of the crew was saved from receiving
Ace’s blows.
The feared part was the one Pops was in charge of, in which Ace had to try to
make someone, or a group of people, to pass out. It wasn’t a nice experience,
even for the ones who simply got a headache instead of fainting. The ones who
didn’t faint or feel sick had been alarmed the first few times, as they hadn’t
been told what would happen. Pops found the reactions amusing, apparently.
Ace himself felt very satisfied at his progress. His sort of practice with the
skill up until then meant that, at least with Busoshoku Haki, he wouldn’t take
nearly as long as it was usual to master the skill, even if he was being teased
relentlessly for not having noticed it made him more resistant as well.
He was tired, though, and he had no problem admitting it. He fell asleep more
often, there had even been this time he had fallen asleep during a fight with
Marco and, had the man had worse reflexes, things could have developed into an
accident. After the incident, though, Marco had consented to let him rest on
Sundays, and had convinced Pops to do it as well.
Today was Sunday, and Ace was lying on bed well past his usual waking time,
hugging the pillow and trying to convince his body to go back to sleep, even
though he had slept almost twelve hours already, having got out of bed only to
eat breakfast.
He heard the door open and close soon after, and opened his eyes to see Marco
walking to the bed. The man sat on it, Ace’s back turned to him as that was the
position he had been lying on, and a warm hand appeared on his thigh.
“Still trying to sleep?”
“It’s my day off. Leave me alone, monster.” He complained childishly,
remembering the hard training session from yesterday. He could feel muscles
aching that he hadn’t even know were in his body.
He felt and heard Marco shifting, and then both of the man’s hands were on him.
“Lie on your stomach.” The blond said, and Ace had no problem releasing the
pillow and complying.
He sighed when Marco’s hands started to move over his sore back, slowly easing
out the tensions of the week. He loved those hands, even if they were the cause
of most of that tension.
Ace felt he could fall asleep again when those hands moved over his arms, but
now he didn’t want to sleep anymore, and instead decided to bring up a subject
that had been dancing in his mind for weeks now.
“Hey, Marco, where should I get my tattoo?”
“Where do you want it?” The hands were now on Ace’s sides, and a shiver ran
down his body. The drowsiness was being chased away by a completely different
feeling.
“I’m not sure. I want it somewhere people will see it, but not a place where
it’ll be too easy for it to be cut. I know I can get a scar anytime, but I’d
like for it to be as less likely as possible.”
Marco hummed behind him and the hands moved to his back again.
“What about here? You never turn your back on an enemy, and are too much of an
idiot to flee.”
Ace was in too much of a good mood to be offended, so he just turned his head
to the side and grinned up at Marco. The man leaned closer, lips brushing Ace’s
earlobe as he continued.
“That way you would walk shirtless when the weather allowed.”
Ace’s grin widened.
“And you won’t be jealous of others looking at me?”
One of Marco’s hands trailed down to one of his bare buttocks, and grabbed it
possessively.
“No, this way everybody will know what I have and they can’t.” Ace shivered at
that. Marco smiled. “Want to learn something? You’ll like this, and there’s no
fighting.”
Ace nodded, writhing to a position in which the mattress didn’t get in the way
of his hardened length. Marco kissed him below the ear and moved away. Ace
heard the drawer open, indicating the man was getting the lube, and the
telltale sound of Marco opening his pants. He didn’t take them off, though.
Ace gasped in anticipation when he felt a finger pressing his opening, and
gladly accepted it in. He grew annoyed, however, when the second and third
fingers came in and Marco didn’t seem to be in any hurry to pull them out.
“Marco,” he practically growled, “I’m not a virgin and I haven’t been months
without sex, so hurry the fuck up.”
The man chuckled behind him.
“Don’t be so impatient.” Ace turned his head to glare at him, and Marco pulled
the fingers out, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. The younger
pirate groaned in frustration when the man stopped to coat his cock with a
generous amount of lube, and buried his face in the mattress.
He moved to kneel, however, when Marco placed his hands on both sides of his
hips and signaled for him to do so.
At least the man stopped teasing there and seated himself inside of Ace in a
single, swift trust. Both men groaned. Then Marco was leaning over Ace once
more, lips on his ear.
“Pay attention now.”
And Ace’s eyes widened when he felt Marco’s hard cock harden even more inside
of him. He turned his head to look at a smugly grinning Marco.
“You’re-?”
The man thrust into him and, gasping, Ace decided to forget his questions and
just enjoy himself.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“Second division commander?” Ace asked, placing the fork back on the plate.
“Me?”
Excited nods answered him.
“Yeah. You know, the position’s been empty a long time. We all think you’d make
a good commander.”
Ace tilted his head, looking at the men who had approached him with the idea.
“’We all’? Who’s that?”
The men started talking all at the same time.
“The second division guys-”
“-said he’d heard Blenheim and-“
“-told Pops and he-“
“-so they voted-“
“-think you’ve got what’s needed-“
Ace blinked, unable to understand everything they were saying.
“Oi, not all at once!” The others fell silent immediately. “You say Pops
knows?” Rapid nods. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
To be honest, Ace wasn’t sure how he felt about the proposal. Pops hadn’t told
him anything yet, and that meant he had some time to think it over.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“You still haven’t decided?”
Ace jumped in place, almost losing his balance on the railing. He had been so
distracted he hadn’t even felt Marco approaching him.
“Decided? What?”
Marco scoffed, and moved to lean on the railing as well.
“Ace, everybody knows you know about the commander position.”
“Oh.” Ace blinked. “Pops hasn’t told me anything yet.”
“I know. He’s waiting for you to get over your emotional conflict to do it.”
Ace turned his head to look at Marco, confused by his words.
“I’m not conflicted. I just don’t think I should become a commander.”
“Why not?”
“You really have to ask?” Ace knew, he really did, that Marco was a smart guy,
but sometimes he suspected the man could be extremely dense. It was clear why
it wouldn’t be a good idea for him to become a commander, it didn’t matter that
he has strong enough for it.
“Is it because you think people will be angry and think you were mocking them
by taking the position when they discover your big, dark secret?” Marco asked,
sarcasm evident in his voice. Sometimes, too, Ace wanted to strangle him. Or
push him overboard.
“So what if I am?” He snapped. “Not everybody’s bound to be as understanding as
you and the old man.”
Marco sighed in obvious exasperation. Ace looked down at the ocean.
“Ace, they likeyou. And if someone changed their mind after they discover that
little detail, I’ll personally kick them out of the ship before Pops has even
time to attempt to reason with them.”
The younger man didn’t look at him, though he might have blushed slightly at
Marco’s obvious protectiveness over him. He did lean into the man when Marco
moved closer and placed an arm around his shoulders.
“So, ignoring your ancestry issues, do you want to become a commander? It has
some benefits aside from all the added responsibilities, though I would make
sure you don’t get your own room.”
Ace had to laugh at that.
“Don’t worry, I like my current room.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Garp punched his desk, rendering it to a pile of splinters and small chunks of
wood. At least this time he refrained from going in search of a training group,
limiting himself to glare at the still visible paper in between the remains of
his desk.
That. Fucking. Brat.
Was it really too much to ask that he keep a low profile? Instead of limiting
himself to appear in the background of some pictures in an article about the
Whitebeard Pirates, or maybe having his name mentioned now and then in one of
said articles, the damn brat had made it into the cover of that morning’s
edition.
Second division commander.
The brat had become the fucking second division commander of the Whitebeard
Pirates. And his formal introduction to the position had consisted on
singlehandedly destroying a pirate crew that had attacked one of the crew’s
protected territories. Where cameras could record it. A crew whose captain had
a bounty of four hundred and fifty million beli. Adding to it the rest of the
crew and Ace’s position, now his grandson had earned the very notorious sum of
five hundred and fifty million beli offered for his head.
And had Garp mentioned the kid’s new tattoo? Not the one that was an obvious
tribute to Sabo, Garp understood and respected that one, but the very visible,
huge jolly roger on Ace’s back. Exposed for the world to see, as the brat
hadn’t worn a shirt in those pictures.
He was going to kill the brat as soon as he could find a way to get to him.
Oh, wait…
Now Ace was the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. He had a
bounty of five hundred and fifty million beli on his head, he had entered the
government’s list of the most wanted men in the world. Now it wouldn’t make
much of a difference if the world learned who Ace, Portgas D. Ace, Gol D. Ace,
really was.
As he burst out laughing, Garp knew with certainty that Sengoku would kill him
when he came back from his impromptu trip.
He was really eager to see how strong his beloved grandson had become.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Marco felt Ace shiver under the arm he had over the boy’s waist, and the
younger pirate turned around, snuggling closer to him, burying his head under
Marco’s chin and wrapping an arm around the man’s torso, the other pressed to
his chest.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I just got this horrible feeling out of nowhere, like something terrible
is about to happen.”
Marco hummed and kissed the top of Ace’s head.
“Need a distraction?”
He could feel the smile against his skin before Ace answered.
“That’s a good idea.” He said, and shivered again.
Marco moved, pushing Ace on his back and placing his arms on each side of his
head, leaning on his elbows and hovering over him. He smiled at Ace’s pale
face, noticeable even with the decreasing evening light.
“It can’t be that bad.” He said, and earned a not-so-soft punch to the chest
for his amused voice.
“My gut says it is.” Ace scowled at him, and punched him again when Marco
chuckled.
Marco leaned down and kissed Ace on the left temple, trailing down until he
reached the corner of Ace’s lips.
“Then let’s get you gut’s attention on something else.” He mumbled against his
lips right before kissing him.
Ace hugged him, bringing their chests flush together, just like his legs wound
around Marco’s waist and, when their already half erect cocks touched, Marco
knew they weren’t going to take it slow.
As his hands went down to Ace’s ass, he decided that was fine by him.
End Notes
     Now, this is part of the original final note, because there's an
     explanation I'd like to share about the story.
     Aerle, you did comment on the lack of Devil Fruit and what could
     happen, and this is what I have in mind, though I won’t write
     anything more of this story. As we know, even the smaller of events
     can change everything, so maybe, by having Ace join the crew earlier,
     it changed everything else in a way that resulted in the crew never
     fighting the one that had the Yami Yami no Mi, or perhaps they would
     fight them, but at a time where these people didn’t posses the fruit.
     And then there’s the possibility that said fruit found its way onto
     the Moby Dick all the same. In this case, no, Ace wouldn’t eat it,
     and the events that resulted in Thatch’s death and Ace pursuing
     Blackbeard would happen. The difference here would be Ace himself. I
     personally think the reason Ace lost at Banaro was because his
     fighting style had become too dependent on his Devil Fruit, as he
     insisted on using it even when it was clear it wouldn’t work.
     But here Ace not only isn’t a Devil Fruit user, he knows how to
     control his haki and, due to his earlier departure from Dawn Island
     and the life he’s led, as well as having been two more years on board
     the Moby Dick, means he’s physically much stronger. If the fight
     between Blackbeard and Ace happened, then Ace would be the one to
     win. Let’s not forget Whitebeard said Blackbeard’s weak point was his
     weak physical defense.
     You guys can choose whichever scenario you like the most for the
     future here, these are the possibilities :)
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