marcoace au where marco gets drunk and accidentally breaks into ace's house thinking it was his own
Marco can’t find his keys. He knows that Izou took his car keys at some point, probably right around the time that Thatch had started mixing his drinks instead of Jozu, but he was almost certain that his house key had been given back to him. Except, Marco pats at his pockets, fumbling his phone out of one and failing to get the fingerprint lock to recognize him. The numbers for the passcode were too blurry to even attempt.
“I just wanna go to bed,” Marco mutters frowning at the front door. “Did I, were you always red?”
The door doesn’t respond and Marco is glad he’s not that drunk at least. Or worried that one of his other siblings might have spiked the drinks with something else, like they’ve been prone to doing since the end of the last prank war.
“Oh, thought I lost this,” Marco says pleased when he kicks the rug and finds his spare key, fumbling the lock open and kicking off his shoes. “They moved my couch?”
He doesn’t bother trying to make it to his bedroom, falling on the couch and dragging the blanket over the back of it down to cover himself. One foot pressed firmly to the floor as the room tries to start spinning on him to make it stop before falling asleep.
“What do you mean you don’t know any blonds other than Sanji?” Marco hears as he presses his face further into his couch. “I thought you knew more people than just your friends.” a long pause. “Then how did he get in my...”
The sound fades out for a few minutes and Marco almost thinks it’s carrying over from his neighbor’s house when he opens his eyes to peer at the couch. It’s a hideous shade of eye searing orange, the kind of thing that one of Haruta’s anime protagonists might wear, even if it’s far more comfortable than Marco’s staid blue one.
“I thought I told you to stop hiding my key under the mat? Luffy this is how you’re going to get me murdered,” Marco knows that voice, sitting up to catch sight of his neighbor frowning at a wall. “I have to go.”
There’s a long moment of silence, Marco isn’t sure what he’s suppose to say because he’s broken into his neighbor’s house.
“I’m so sorry,” Marco blurts out when his neighbor’s mouth opens. “I was really drunk last night and I don’t think my siblings remembered what house is mine. I swear all I did was fall down on your couch.”
“I know, you set off the alarm,” he nods to the box on the wall. “I’m Ace, I moved in here a few months ago.”
“Marco, I own the place next door,” Marco groans softly. “With the blue front door. I knew the door looked wrong.”
Ace snorts, “Yeah, it’s rather red isn’t is? Come on, the least I can do before shoving you out the front door is feed you.”
“You really don’t have to,” Marco says softly.
“I would do the same if you were my brother or one of his drunken friends showing up because it’s easier to direct to the house on 7th with the red door than an apartment building,” Ace grins. “Hope you like bacon.”
“I really am sorry about breaking into your house.”
Ace laughs, looking back at Marco, “Maybe you can make it up to me later.”
