superhero au marcoace?
Thank you so much for the prompt! Sorry for the delay.
T || 5,354 words || Complete|| Marco/Ace ||
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35198302
“Now onto the last case for the day. The brass are really pushing for a close to this case, after Phoenix’s and Fire Fist’s latest stunt. It’s been over three years since Phoenix first appeared in the city, and Fire Fist has been here for almost a year now. It does not look good that we, the Metahuman Agency for Regulation Incarceration & Enforcement, have yet to catch the most brazen of the illegal metahumans, these so-called supers with the gall to operate just outside of our headquarters in Marineford.” Sengoku sighed and crossed his arms as he turned to Marco, who nodded in acknowledgement of his silent order.
“Fire Fist and the Phoenix have been about as active as usual," Marco said. "They seem to rotate patrol days, so we haven’t been able to nail down a schedule, but they regularly comb the city looking to involve themselves in trouble.”
“Often at the expense of the brass,” Smoker muttered from down the table, and Marco fought back a smile, meeting the man’s eyes in acknowledgement for a fleeting second. Garp snorted, opening another package of crackers loudly. There were a few decent men here, not that they’d be allowed to act as they pleased. Sometimes Marco wondered if they all had ulterior motives like he did or if they just truly believed in trying to protect citizens from the “threat” of the superheros. Or metahumans, as was the organizationally approved term. Afterall, they were officially the bad guys, whether they saved children or not.
“Last week, they were involved in an incident at an orphanage on the westside.” Marco couldn’t bring himself to say crime. Rescuing children from a burning building should not be a crime. Maybe not everyone should do it, but Fire Fist and Phoenix were uniquely capable of fire rescues. “The good news is there was footage of them saving the children from the fire, and it’s possible we might get clues to their identities.”
He wrapped the briefing on autopilot, giving the same details he did every week, no clue on their identities this week; yes, we’re really close to cracking their “patrol” route (they weren’t, it was truly random by design); this is our highest priority; they are making the Marines look like fools.
Finally, people began shuffling out of the overcramped conference room.
“Portgas, Newgate, a word,” Senkogku said. Marco held back a sigh. He was really hoping to slip out without further questions on his perennial problem case. He and Ace stopped by his seat at the head of the table, and Marco was sure Ace would also rather be elsewhere from his shifting. “Portgas, updates on that footage from Fire Fist and Phoenix?”
Ace huffed, and Marco couldn’t begrudge him that. He’d just given this report in the meeting prior. “There’s a limit to how much I’ll be able to enhance the footage from the joke that is those security cameras. They are at least 10 years old.”
Sengoku scowled, like Ace hadn’t just said that fifteen minutes prior. “I want that security footage analyzed ASAP, Marco needs it if he’s ever to catch Fire Fist and Phoenix. Not that it should be hard to find them with those cheesy costumes. Marco, work any leads you have in the meantime.” Marco kept a frown from his face, as he saluted half-heartedly. Neither his nor Fire Fist’s costumes were cheesy. They were classic, and Fire Fist at least looked damn good. If only he didn’t know it. Not that he could bring that up to Sengoku. He was already knee deep back at the paperwork in front of him, clearly having already dismissed them.
“There’s the case of the violent burglaries across the west end of the city,” he started, but Sengoku waved him off without looking up from the papers.
“Fire Fist and Phoenix take priority. They’ve been at large far too long.” Marco carefully kept the scowl from his face. Of course, no thought was given for the people who were actually causing suffering, but the Marines would hound the heroes who actually did something for the people, rather than bind their powers and only use them for the power of the government. On days like today, Marco wanted to turn in his badge, transform into his alter ego in front of his boss, and kick all their asses. Maybe go off and join the Revolutionaries, he’d heard they were making good progress, and the chief was sure looking stressed. Apparently, mostly about Marco’s night time activities... which no. That didn’t sound right at all.
But he was playing the long game. And better him than any of his siblings. Plus there were some benefits.
Ace’s hand brushed his as they shuffled to the door dodging the too many chairs crammed in around the conference table, sending an electric jolt up his spine. They left the room, Marco holding the door for Ace, heart skipping a beat at his quiet smile of thanks. Trading a rueful glance, they made their way back to their respective offices in companionable silence, weaving in and out of scurrying MARINE Agents.
“I’ll get a rush job done on the burglary case, see what I can turn up for you,” Ace whispered with a mischievous look as they were about to part ways. Marco, who’d been too absorbed in how closely together they were walking and wondering if it would be weird to ask him to lunch later when their lunch day was normally Tuesday, blinked.
“Just leave it to me,” Ace said and winked. Marco grinned back. Too late because Ace was off like a shot, leaving Marco with his heart beating just a little too fast, knees a little weak. It was a good day, meetings be damned.
***
Ace inhaled slowly, counting to ten as he released his breath, leaning back against his apartment door. The only thing that got him through briefing days was knowing he could be free soon enough, soaring over rooftops to see the only other sane person in this shithole of a city.
Marineford might be the capital, but it had one of the highest crime rates in the country, but with it being the headquarters of the MARINEs, few heroes dared to tread its streets. For years, only Phoenix was bold enough to try to do some good in a city that reeked of such corruption. Ace would admit that he was more than a bit of a fan before he’d even moved to Marineford. Sabo still teased him about it when he called after Fire Fist and the Phoenix made the evening news.
Fire Fist debuted in the city around a year ago, a few months after Ace had been accepted for a position at HQ thanks to Garp’s influence. He was to go, cover Luffy’s tracks as best he could, and keep his head low. Give Garp one grandson in the force he’d helped build back when super powers had run amok. Whether the morals of the organization had slipped as the very people he should have been hunting took charge of the force didn’t seem to bother the old man. He still fought for his own brand of justice, meanwhile the “villains” the majority of the force now hunted were the ones keeping everyday people safe, and those that “brought them to justice” were the attack dogs of the wealthy elite, fed with scraps of their ill-gotten gains.
Cowards, the lot of them.
Ace tossed his keys on the counter of his tiny studio, nearly tripping over the fold out bed that was never properly put away. He kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the kitchenette to reheat yesterday's Chinese food. Ace bounced from side to side and the numbers ticked down, checking the clock twice.
When the microwave beeped, he shoveled the food in his mouth, uncaring of the fact that some of it was a bit cold in places, while other parts were hot enough to burn someone who wasn’t him. He was already running late. He all but flew over the rooftops, keeping flames to a minimum and relying on parkour. It wouldn’t do to draw attention to this month’s meeting place.
“You’re late,” Phoenix said from behind him, as soon as he touched down.
“You know me, I like to make an entrance,” Ace said with a grin, looking over his shoulder. “Hello.”
“I do wish we could at least exchange burner phones or something,” Phoenix said. His brow wrinkled above his mask, and Ace had to shove down the inappropriate urge to coo.
“Miss me that much?” he asked with a grin. “While you know our time apart is an endless void without the sound of your voice, I’m afraid burner phones are not nearly as secure as spy movies would have you think.” Ace should know, he’d spent most of his lunch break cleaning up evidence for the Revolutionaries. What Garp didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt Ace. And more importantly, would keep Sabo safe.
“If you’d let me know who you were...”
Ace tsked and nudged him with a shoulder. “You know that’s out of the question. Safer that way for both of us.” Ace trusted Phoenix with his life, but he wasn’t about to trust him with his brothers’. Not to mention, if he knew what Ace did for his day job... well. That would take a lot of fast talking. No, better to keep it separate for now, much as Ace was dying to get to know the man behind the mask. This was safe. Sensible.
Phoenix was still frowning, and Ace ached to be able to wipe that expression from his face.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Ace said with a smirk. He threw an arm over Phoenix’s shoulders and turned them out to look over the city. Every inch of contact sparked along Ace’s nerves though their costumes. He ruthlessly shoved down the feeling. “You know I can take care of myself, especially when it’s the fools on the Marines we’re up against.” Ace sent a silent apology to Marco, who was a decent sort, even if he had an unfortunate career path. Ace sometimes wondered if he was also secretly putting the Marines on the wrong trail when it came to them. He was a damn good investigator for every case where there were victims, but theirs? He never even once questioned Ace's lack of results.
“I know.” Phoenix said. He sighed as they looked out over their city.
“Just be careful,” he said finally. Ace squeezed his shoulders before hopping up and offering Phoenix a hand up with a graceful bow.
“Shall we?” His dramatics were paid back in full with the quiet chuckle, and they set off.
The night is quiet for the first part of patrol, almost eerily so. Ace is almost glad when they hear yelling from a nearby building. Much as he loves the nights where he gets to just chase his partner across roofs and play an elaborate game of tag, too much quiet suggests something big on the horizon.
They pause on the roof across the street and trade an uncertain look. They’re in a warehouse district, with plenty of abandoned buildings from better times. Still they don’t generally go inside without cause.
The screams start again, and it’s clearly a kid this time and not a happy one. Phoenix’s lips pressed together underneath his mask, and he nodded at Ace. They made their way to a window, and there’s a kid with a baseball bat, being dragged off by a few goons. Ace picks open the window and they enter silently.
“Let her go!” the kid screeched, flailing widely and Ace looked around but didn’t see anyone else. Ace blinked at the covered cages with a sudden foreboding along the back wall. Were they keeping people back there?”
“A little punk like you is not going to stop us from selling the gator.” Ace wrinkled his nose. Alligators? Better than kids, but weird.
Goon #1 scoffed. “What were you planning to do, kid? Let it loose?”
Ace had seen enough. He caught Phoenix’s eye and shot him a quick smile. He launched himself off the rafters, landing squarely on Goon #2, who was far enough away from the kid. They went down hard, and Ace stepped neatly off their back, keeping a foot lightly on the back of their neck in warning. The Goon went limp. One down.
“And what seems to be going on here?” he asked with a grin, fire lighting on his raised fists.
“Shit! It’s Fire Fist.” Goons #3 and 4 dropped the kid and scrambled for their guns, but Goon #1 laughed.
“You’ve met your match this time, Fire Fist!” Goon # 1 raised his hands. Water—hopefully—flowed around him from the suspicious puddle in the corner. Ace eyed it dubiously.
“Oh no, Fire Fist, water, your only weakness.” Ace didn’t need to turn and see the shit-eating grin on his partner’s face, as Phoenix glided down from the rafters to land at his side. Why did he have to like assholes? His eyes trained on the guns and the kid, who was picking herself up, none the worse for the wear, but he knew it was there. Phoenix was laughing at him the bastard.
Why did villains always try this? Just last week someone had dumped a bucket of mop water on him triumphantly. Ace had taken extreme pleasure in showing that villain how wrong their assumptions were. He wasn’t the Wicked Witch, and he bathed regularly, thank you. This wasn’t Pokemon.
“Oh no,” Ace said, tone dry enough the water should evaporate with no other interference. “Whatever will I do?”
The kid picked up her baseball bat and fucking kneecaped Goon #3. Ace’s jaw dropped. Phoenix flashed across the room to kick the gun out of Goon #4’s hand before he could react. Ace dragged his attention back in time to just barely avoid being splashed in the face with foul smelling water. He burst into flame, the water sizzling and evaporating before it hit, and Goon #1 gaped at him.
“Oh, guess I don’t melt after all,” Ace said, and punched a stunned Goon #1 right in the solar plexus. He went down like a brick.
“Kid, you can’t go off rescuing alligators,” Phoenix was saying to the kid, who looked no more than 8 or 10. “What would you do with her?” His voice rippled with amusement even as he kept a serious face for the kid. Ace shook off a besotted smile and went to peer in a cage.
“They stole her from the zoo!”
A large alligator hissed at him, and Ace jerked back, replacing the covering while Phoenix continued to do a bad job of not laughing at him. Or maybe the situation in general.
“Awww, she’s scared.” The kid skipped over to peer in with Ace, and Ace kept her from getting too close. He looked back at Phoenix incredulously, who laughed silently at Ace’s predicament as he tied up the goons.
“I guess they must be in demand with the uptick in supervillian activity,” Phoenix said with a straight face, and the kid nodded seriously.
“Bad guys need them for moats. It was on the news.”
Ace kept from laughing valiantly. What a world they lived in.
“Thanks for saving us!”
“No problem, kid. We have to go before the authorities get here, but we’ll make sure nothing else happens to you until they do.”
The kid spun her bat expertly. “I’m not worried.” Ace laughed and ruffled her hair. “And I won’t tell those bastards anything about you.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ace couldn’t resist ruffling her hair one more time. She reminded him a little of Luffy, just take away the bat and add a pipe and hat.
They watched over the kid until the police arrived, making sure not to be seen, then continued their patrol. There were a few muggings, but nothing else unusual. The petty crime had gone down a lot since he moved here and was able to help Phoenix out. They kept an irregular patrol schedule, but it was still enough, in between bigger cases like the burglary.
“Pretty quiet night,” Ace said as they landed back at their meeting point. “Not that I mind taking a moonlight stroll with you.”
Phoenix snorted, settling in to lean on the wall. He normally rushed off as soon as they finished patrol, and Ace frowned, turning toward him fully. “Except the one bit of interest.”
Ace laughed. “Yeah, who knew there was a hot market in animal trafficking for moats.”
Phoenix smiled, a small sort of smile that made Ace’s chest ache. “Listen, I won’t be able to make it Wednesday this week.”
“You’ll break my heart, leaving me to the burglaries all alone! Here I’d even found a break in the case and everything.” Ace faked a graceful swoon to hide his very real disappointment, catching himself with ease as Phoenix side stepped as usual. It hurt, always did when Phoenix missed a mission, but it was happening more and more frequently. Ace would dearly like to strangle himself from last week before he had the great idea of asking Phoenix out.
“I’m sure you’ll survive, somehow,” Phoenix said dryly.
“Well, it’s my lead anyway, and I can handle myself.” Ace slanted him a glance, looking up from under his eyelashes. “Leaving me for another man, pookie bear?’ Ace asked before he could think better of it. Phoenix just rolled his eyes and smiled.
“It’s for work, sweetums” Phoenix said.
“Oh? Finally going to make a move on the guy at work you’re in love with, honeybear?” Ace said, and he had to force the words out in his usual lighthearted tone. It hurt, pouring salt in the wounds from last week’s discussion after his confession, when he’d gotten a gentle but firm rejection. It was worth it for the soft smile it brought to Phoenix’s lips even as he shook his head. Ace knew he didn’t deserve Phoenix, not really. Not with everything he was hiding.
“No, he won’t be there,” Phoenix said. Silence fell between them, and not their usual companionable one. Ace scrambled to find something to say, but Phoenix beat him to the punch.
“You know you’re the only partner in this city for me, hot stuff.” Phoenix nudged him gently, knocking their shoulders together. Ace found it hard to come back with a lighthearted rejoinder, words blocked by his heart somehow in his throat, but mumbled something hopefully appropriate and flipped off the roof in a way that was hopefully cool and not panicked. He never should have started the terrible pet name thing. It was just unfair when Phoenix returned it.
Ace clung to his words all the way home, warming him down to his bones as he flitted across rooftops and dodged cameras. He might be pathetic, but when Phoenix smiled at him like that, he didn’t even mind.
***
Marco didn’t like it when Fire Fist went out alone. It was necessary; Marco had to keep his cover as someone investigating the heroes, which meant sometimes he needed to be seen chasing them. It made his whole job a lot easier now that Fire Fist was around to chase, and he didn’t have to chase himself. Fire Fist could take care of himself, but Marco was more than a bit worried he wouldn’t, especially after last week’s confession. Fire Fist wasn’t subtle, and Marco had known it was probably coming.
Fire Fist leaned too much toward the self destructive at the best of times, and he’d been... off ever since their conversation last week. He even almost let that water goon get the drop on him two days ago.
If it weren’t for Sengoku breathing down his neck, he wouldn’t consider letting Fire Fist go after anyone near so violent as the bugalers, especially not with a police raid planned as well. Unfortunately, his presence here with the Marines was also protecting Ace. Whether the man in question would agree with his methods was a whole other topic, and one for if Fire Fist ever agreed to let them share their identities.
Marco still had nightmares about Fire Fist just... vanishing one day, as suddenly as he appeared. He really needed to talk to Fire Fist about some kind of safety net.
How did he expect dating to work between them anyway? Would he drop the subterfuge? The question had just seemed to slip out of him, maybe he hadn't meant to, even if the feelings were real.
Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? Fire Fist had acted naturally for weeks now, but Marco hadn’t put it behind him. The littlest of things would drag him back to that moment, up on the rooftop, together in a way that was so incredibly easy, so much so that his partner blurt out something he very obviously meant, but just as obviously hadn’t meant to share.
Fire Fist had put it behind him, like the whole thing was a mistake. He slipped right back into the casual flirting that Marco had come to revel in after a hard day.
There was a flicker of movement, and Marco immediately adjusted his binoculars to get a better view. Ace had managed to dig up the probable next location of the next break in. It aligned perfectly with Fire Fist's intel and Marco knew that between the two of them, this would be the next target.
What they hadn’t been sure of was the time. Marco didn’t want to get there too early. Fire Fist would be cautious (he hoped), but there was no way to tell him the Marines were out tonight and onto their location, not without a very long conversation that probably would result in Marco getting punched.
There. In the window of the charming little brownstone that probably cost more than Marco’s entire apartment building, there was an unsteady like, like Fire Fist’s flames.
A burst of flames. Fire Fist came tumbling out of the window, limbs devoid of their usual animation. He thunked into the wall opposite, no attempts to save himself or turn into flames to avoid the hit.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Marco muttered. He looked up. “Two targets sighted, squad one with me, other squads to check the house,” he said. No enemy leapt out after Ace, and he could say later that the priority was the inevitable wealthy residents, who might still be inside.
He turned back to where Fire Fist was crumpled like an unfavored doll cast aside in favor of something new and shinier, heart in his throat. He didn’t know how he was going to get his partner out of this, but he had to. If Fire Fist was conscious... he might have to break cover. That was fine, he trusted that he would hear him out. But he had to be conscious enough to play along.
Fire Fist groaned, shifting, and Marco let out a relieved breath in the cover of everyone else gasping and jumping back. Fire Fist dragged himself up, and Marco couldn’t help but start forward. He was bleeding heavily, dripping down to the pavement. No arterial blood, part of him cataloged. But that was definitely a gut wound, and it wasn’t going to be pretty untreated. Fire Fist noticed them for the first time and sent out a circle of fire to blind them and push them back. Marco dropped away immediately, but the flames had no more effect on him than usual. He carefully tracked his movements, then sent men in all the wrong directions.
The rest of his team was still fanning out, when Marco started after him, trying to look casual and cautious and not at all like he was rushing to save his partner.
His heart still pounded in his ears, a riot that blurred into a constant roar. Denial tighten its cold grip on his chest, making each breath a trial. Everything blurred, as he forced himself to mock-warily hunt his partner, who needed him more than ever now.
He couldn’t lose him.
There. The barest flicker of light in an alley pulled the world back into focus.
Fire Fist lay in the alley, too still, too pale, his ragged breathing the only thing keeping Marco from totally. His mask was torn, and the light in the alley was dim, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from recognizing Ace’s face peeking out from his partner’s costume.
He could process later. He transformed in a roar of blue flames and wrapped Ace flames to heal, wings outstretched as if he could protect him. As if he hadn’t been far too late for that.
***
Phoenix was going to kill him, wrap him up in cotton, and never let him do anything on his own ever again. Ace had been... less than successful on his own. Well, if the government was competent he’d have been fine. He’d incapacitated the bastard, but instead of taking him into custody, the government decided to recruit him. Like that was going to go well for anyone. He’d woken up in an alley, and yeah, he shouldn’t do that, especially mostly unmasked as he was.
There was a knock on his door, and Ace looked up and smiled. “Hey, Marco. Here for your files?”
“Ace, yes. Hi. Good morning. Are you... okay?”
“Ye-es?” Ace asked back, looking around the room for an explanation of why he might not be. “Is everything okay?”
Marco looked like he hadn’t slept at all, which was unlike him. Dark shadow creased his eyes, and his tie was crooked. His belt and shoes were mismatched.
“Are you okay?” Ace asked.
“Yeah. Good. Awesome.” Marco shuffled backwards and tripped. He caught himself on the doorframe. “See you later.”
“Wait! Your case files.”
“Right.”
Ace handed them over and frowned as Marco scurried out. That was weird. He’d have to check on him later. Marco was usually so put together. But first, the footage of last night had to be dealt with. Ace didn’t even remember most of what happened once he went through the window until he woke up.
The footage was running through his automatic program, which flagged anytime they were caught on film from across the city, and he checked it to make sure nothing pointed to their identities, like them coming or going from certain places too often.
Or like Marco chasing after him into an alley, panic clear on his face.
Like blue flames lighting up what could be seen of the alley shortly after.
Like why he’d thought he’d been more injured than he woke up as.
Like how Marco came out of the alley a minute later, still visibly shaken.
Like how he took a breath and put on a faultless mask when some of their colleagues ran up to him, and he pointed them in another direction from where Ace lay, recovering.
Ace rolled back from his screens, numb. 20 minutes later Ace himself in street clothes, stumbled out of the alley. He remembered that part. What he didn’t remember was a blip of blue, high up in the sky, circling overhead like a guardian angel.
Well.
Whatever he was going to do about this would have to wait until the evidence was gone. There was a lot more than usual. For him and Marco both. Then he could begin to wrap his head around this.
This at least explained Marco’s mood. Ace was pretty sure he was going to share it, when his brain kicked back in. He started altering footage on autopilot.
***
As soon as night had fallen on the city, Ace made his way to their meeting place.
“Hi”
“Hey, snookums.”
There was a pause, then they both spoke at once.
“I know you wanted to keep our identities secret—”
“I accidentally found out your identity—”
They froze.
“How did you find out? You were unconscious and bleeding out in an alley.”
Ace blinked. “There were cameras last night. Imagine my surprise when I went to clean up the footage as per usual and saw you save me with blue fire.”
Marco gritted his teeth, and it hit Ace that he knew exactly the expression he was making. That this was Marco under the mask. The way his beautiful blue eyes were narrowed. The exact shade of cornflower blue that they were under the mask. He’d had that expression turned on him at work.
“We need to figure out a better safety net.”
Ace shrugged. “It will be easy now. I can make our phones untraceable. You just can’t do it with any old burner phone”
“If that’s the case, why all the secrets?”
“I figured the whole working for the enemy thing would be an issue. Turns out I wasn’t the only one.”
“Oh.”
“You here covering for someone too? I can do a lot more with the computer side of things. No offense.”
“You’re covering for someone?”
“Yeah, my brothers.”
“But Garp...”
“It’s complicated, muffin.” Ace laughed and nudged Marco with a shoulder. “You?”
“I’m covering for my family too. I’d love your help. I’ll help with yours too.” Marco swallowed, and Ace forced his gaze away from his throat. This didn’t change anything other than make Phoenix that much more attractive, now that he knew what was behind the mask. “Pumpkin.” Ace snorted.
“The other thing...” Marco trailed off, and Ace turned to face him more fully.
“Another thing?!”
Marco laughed and rubbed the back of his head. It was startlingly similar to gestures he’d seen 1,000 times at work, Ace could kick himself for not noticing sooner. How much time had he spent studying every hint of Phoenix? Enough that he’d not bothered to look around himself otherwise. Who’d have thought he’d been so close all along?
“The person I talked about that time you—a few weeks ago?” Marco cleared his throat.
Ace flushed bright red, giving thanks his mask went down far enough it hid his cheeks. “Yeah? My competition for your heart?”
“That was you. I mean—Ace.” Marco’s mask couldn’t quite conceal his blush, and Ace’s eyes were caught by the color creeping from under the edge of his domino.
“What was me?” Ace’s eyes widened as Marco shifted from foot to foot, gaze fixed at the rooftop across the way. “Wait, you turned me down for me?” He laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“You’re probably the only one at the office that doesn’t know,” Marco said, grimacing. “Hopefully Sengoku too.”
“Wow. And we pride ourselves on our investigative skills.” He’d been pining for Marco while sitting across from him at lunch at least once a week. He laughed again, dropping his head to Marco’s shoulder with a thunk.
Marco let out a long sigh, deflating. “Yeah.” Marco hand stroked down his back, and Ace really hoped the fire it left in its wake was figurative because it was too early to embarrass himself. Well, further at least.
“Hey Marco?” Ace looked up. “Can I kiss you?”
“Get over here.” Marco tugged him in by the wrist, and Ace tilted his head. Their lips met, soft, euphoric and Ace still wasn’t sure he was dreaming. The cool night air at his back, the sounds of the city below, faded away until it was just them, their lips brushing, Ace’s hand in Marco’s hair, Marco’s arm grounding him along his waist. Ace deepened the kiss with a hum, tightening his hand in the silken strands and pulling Marco closer.
When they broke away and shared a smile.
“As much as I’d like to continue this, honeybunch.” Marco’s smile turned rueful. “We should probably get off the rooftops, though. Someone’s bound to see us if we stay too long.”
“Still crushing all my fantasies, sweetheart. I see how it is.”
Marco’s smile took on a wicked edge. “Hopefully not all, darling.”
They beat Ace’s record back to his apartment by several minutes.
