#xam writes

[xamaxenta]

Ace yawning and showing off his huge sharp chompers and Marco misses his mouth twice with his spoon cuz he was staring like uhh

Namur helpfully points out that hes got sauce on his shirt and Fossa asks if he’s had enough sleep as of late

Thatch however knows because Thatch always knows and Thatch is also incredibly nosey (this has nothing to do with his magnificent schnozz being almost as large as his hair—)

“I hear he was raised in the jungle.” Thatch says conversationally

Ace still sits a small ways away from them, newly appointed second division commander and he’s still holding them all at arms length

“Heard he took out hunter beasts thrice his size with his bare hands.” Thatch adds, his voice lowered to a dramatic hush

Marco would’ve challenged that if they hadnt seen him take out a sea king solo the week prior

“Whats your point” Marco phrases his question as stoutly and forthright as he can muster this early in the morning

“What im saying is youre a beastie.”

“Thanks.” Marco says dryly

Ace yawns again like a large cat, heavy canines on display

Marco gives up on his breakfast

“And what im catching on is that you wanna be his dinner next—“

Marco stands abruptly, its not that Thatch is wrong, its just that Ace has keen hearing and as far as hes concerned, Ace doesnt see them as anything beyond a working relationship

“We will talk about this later.” And by later never, everyone knows this because Marco is unfortunately a very busy man

“Sure.” Thatch draws out the syllables annoyingly, his grin coy in the smarmy manner he’s always gotten into trouble for

Marco leaves trailing blue gold plumage, the back of his neck prickling from the gaze of a new predator following him all the way out of the mess

Ace remembers to blink when the door closes gently behind Marcos retreating form and he looks down at his empty plate and then at Deuce

Deuce regards him with faint disconcert but that might just be his general expression, its hard to tell with the mask

“Dya know your eyes do this weird thing when you do stuff like that?”

Ace doesnt know, what he does know is hes gonna go get thirds, he offers seconds to Deuce who declines

“What does that even mean?”

“Your pupils do this weird cat slit dilation thing.”

“Cats are cool.” Ace replies and walks off unperturbed towards his apparent weird cat shit.

Deuce thinks maybe he couldve explained himself a little better, or maybe Ace truly doesnt really care. He’s not exactly worried about Marco or anything, Ace is young and strong sure but still leagues beneath anything the phoenix was capable of.

He’s not supersitious but something nags at his subconscious, invest in earplugs, they. Probably would come in handy

[xamaxenta]

I was cooking with whatever i was writing here

Thing is im good at singular scenarios and dogshit at tying it into readable plot

-

[xamaxenta]

Marco having a jar of candy or a bowl of sweets in his office, as a treat for sitting through the nerve wracking process of seeing the doctor

Ace however helps himself whenever he sees fit

Saunters right on in and sticks his dirty mitts in the candy bowl, pops a hard boiled candy between his teeth and grins at Marco before crushing it with a snap of his jaw

Marco doesnt give him much reaction, lest he provoke further bad behaviour

If Ace is looking to persuade a rise from him, he wont find it here

Until the sweet jar gets refilled with lollipops, round cherry flavoured suckers and Ace incinerates the wrapping with a cheery hum and sticks the candy into his mouth, situating it along his left cheek whilst he makes himself comfortable on Marco’s nice chaise, for patients

Hes waiting

Marco likes the game but is vaguely infuriated at how intent Ace seems to be on winning, if he wanted something he wouldve asked by now, theyre well enough into their relationship to have that kind of ease

“Dont you have work to be getting on with?” Marco asks, terser than he wouldve liked to admit

Doesnt look over when Ace pulls the lollipop out from between his lips with a wet slick pop, the sound may as well have echoed within the confined space of the infirmary

“Yea.” Ace affirms, hard hot molten candy clicking against the enamel of his teeth as he leisurely enjoys his stolen treat, “Im on break though.”

Marco cant argue with that, breaks were important after all.

“When’s the last time you moved?” Ace speaks up before Marco can put voice to any of his further thoughts.

He hesitates, caught out by the question, “about an hour ago.”

“Youre a shitty liar.”

For some reason the instantaneous response prickles at Marco’s skin in a manner he didnt have time to unpick just yet, all he knows is Ace can read him, better than anticipated and he’s unsure about if he likes that or not.

“And you are being a disruption.”

“Since when has that ever bothered you.” Ace retorts, sucking noisily on his candy.

“Since today, I’d say I’m a little bothered yes.” Marco recognises his migraines, his phoenix will only suppress so much and he’s worried about the dual flu season incoming, theres been a shortage on the vaccine supply making it incredibly difficult for Marco to source any from a neutral vendor.

Ace kicks his desk.

Marco jumps and shoots the logia a warning glance.

Ace ignores this and kicks his chair instead. And then proceeds to blink and twirl the stick of his dwindling lollipop between his teeth, lips stained dark red from the dyed sugar.

“Ace.” Marco warns, exasperated and not in the mood to play whatever game he was after.

“Are you sufficiently bothered yet?” Ace ignores him again.

Marco frowns, sets down his pen. Ace raises his leg again, foot poised. Marco thinks he looks ridiculous like this, half reclined with his legs spread open like a—

For fucks sake.

Ace kicks out again with intent and Marco catches him by the ankle, grasping him in full and yanking him in, the legs of the chaise screeching along the floor as Ace takes the furniture with him lest he fall off.

Marco glances between the spread of his legs to the dark sugar red of Ace’s mouth, the brazen look in his eyes and back to the heave of his ribcage, surprise shorting out his breathing into something fluttery and new

The phoenix recognises trapped prey and Marco allows her to clip instinct over his humanity

“And you thought seducing me was the best course of action.”

Its rhetorical

It worked

They both know it did

Ace grins, crunches down on his treat and spits out the little plastic stick to claim his prize

Kissing Marco tastes like cherries and salt and something they’d both like to surmise is due to their devil fruits, bitter and astringent, ozone if it could be tasted, fire if it could be anything other than spicy

“Mm, so are you bothered yet cuz you kinda feel—“ Ace mumbles over the press of Marco’s lips to his own, Marco bites at his lip

“Shut up.”

[xamaxenta]

Ace kissing Sabo’s scarring and watching the way he explicitly tries to school his reaction, does he like it? Does he hate it?

Ace jostles him like hey, cmon weve talked about this you gotta say whats on your mind bo, im not a mind reader and im not about to put in the effort either

Sabo makes a tcheh noise between his teeth, the whitebeards have been good for Ace, shockingly so, who out there taught him words, how to process his feelings even (his name is Marco but Sabos yet to thank him in person the phoenix doesnt seem to care for his company, Sabo understands)

He’s got a sassy remark ready but it just feels like an empty defense, it goes both ways this, that,

Between them Ace has always met him more than halfway every time when will he start giving back, its like a dense fog at the forefront of his mind anchoring his tongue

We dont have to, Ace offers because hes nice hes always been achingly nice about everything even when he was a seething ball of feral energy and three feet tall, scaling trees and stealing from the wealthy

Sabo wants to kiss his worries away and tell him no its nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me

But Ace bullheaded at best and stubborn at his worst will dig his heels in and say nah you wanna be like that youre gonna have to fight me for the right, sabos never wanted to fight Ace on an even ground, sparring is different Ace however would be happy to spill blood

I think youre the best thing thats ever happened to me

Sabo wants to say but the anchor and the hook in his guts ties him up into a deep melancholic silence, its really stupid, harboring concerns when theyre both running around with bounties

Ace glances down at the scarring across his own chest and tilts his head, Sabo didnt realise he had been staring

Wanna kiss mine too? I promise ill let you know if it hurts

Sabo would rather Ace continued kissing him but he recognises a white flag when he sees it

[xamaxenta]

Bad boy coded Ace showing up at the Outlook mansion hair slicked back, leather jacket heartthrob look going on knocks using the fancy griffon head door knocker and asks for Sabo to the butler that opens the main entrance

The young master is not in tonight good sir is all the butler has to say

Ace smiles because his phones buzzing in his pocket , Sabos home and he owes him a date night oh i can wait he says backing up and jogging back down the posh steps to where hes parked his motorcycle beneath the set of windows where Sabos room situates

The butler calls the head of house Outlook III who is punctual and picks up on the first ring, informs the master that there is a right hooligan on their front lawn looking for Sabo

For sabo? No one comes looking for sabo if he can help it.

It could be described as a thunderous manner in the way he strides into the wings of his most disobedient first son, raps on his bedroom door and demands an explanation

When there is no answer he finds the key, third on the hoop on his belt because the first two are for the front door and his office respectively and lets himself in because Sabo has always had a defiant streak no amount of heavy handed discipline could tame, finds said son perched on the sill of his window, half way out into the midnight air

What in the seven hells do you think youre doing?

Its a demand that falls flat because Sabo looks back at him from over his shoulder his pale skin abnormally flushed, mottled because it clashes with the shiny rippled scar knitting across his face, his smile is uncanny and lopsided and the ungrateful sly tone in which he addresses his father is as always smarmy, too clever,

Nothing father, nothing that concerns you

And then he jumps and Outlook stumbles trips over the corner of an overturned rug, catches himself against the open window sill to see Sabo caught up in the embrace of said unappreciated night time visitor, they make eye contact, the dark haired man with pale eyes that catch moonlight and his smile tilts up victoriously, one hand possessively curled up into golden curls of hair, the other arm fast around the waist of his son

It clicks, its the god damned piano tutor theyd hired for Stelly, he hadnt recognised him out of his uniforms— Outlook bellows his final verdict

“Youre fired Portgas!”

“Then I’ll be taking my severance payment.” Ace replies cheekily, Sabo rears back in surprise at his statement, shock apparent and Outlook feels the vein in this neck up to his forehead throb and his vision blur

“Then take him you harlot, he’s never been useful to me in any capacity.”

Shaken by his apparently immediate disowning, Sabo shouts back a slew of swears at his father, but he doesnt sound upset in fact it sounds the opposite

Disgusted and thoroughly annoyed Outlook III slams the window shut to the sound of his heir’s piano teacher running off with his firstborn son

[xamaxenta]

Exchanging something personal as a keepsake, Marco gets a blade from Ace, who has a few hunting blades for skinning and gutting, they mean alot to him and the one he passes to Marco is wrought from seaking bone and forged himself and sharpened for his purposes, its even in weight and curved wickedly near the end

Sabo’s gift to the phoenix is a pretty piece of embroidered lace, a square large enough to be a sash, a scarf or another other sort of accessory, he had accepted it gracefully but with a wry smile because what good does a seafaring pirate have with such a delicate piece of fabric?

Think of it as a token

Sabo says and its all he has to say, he never mentions just how much it cost to obtain because none of them care about the monetary aspect of worth and the association of it with gifts

So it becomes a game, Marco’s tucking the folded square into Sabo’s breast pocket, its edged with his favourite cologne, a token he replies when Sabo misses his jaw with the clip of his lips inching for a stolen kiss that now he must wait for because hes behind schedule and they both know it

Ace receives it next time, there is a hole in the lace, something he dutifully patches up because hes always been skilled with his hands, small craftwork is easy on his mind and he enjoys the visible progress made on fixing something important to his lovers

He keeps it for a while, tied around his belt and when sabo returns he complains that it smells of grease and gunpowder and nothing like marco at all, liar Ace whispers into the seam of Sabo’s shockingly soft mouth

Sabo doesnt reply, greedily inhaling Ace because he missed him and so Marco receives the square of lace again its seen some better days but its proof that its kept close to the ones he cares the most about

He trades a map, its coded naturally, not that Sabo will have any problem deciphering it, drawn up by Ace specifically in that bold almost illegible scrawl of his that Marco has taken the time to annotate and Sabo doesnt mind because both of them have had a hand in documenting their future movements, they can make time far easier than Sabo so its nice to receive their intentions

Intentions where Ace has another gift on the other half of the grandline because leading Sabo on a treasure hunt is thrilling and he never got to play pirate but seek he does and the x that marks the spot is a cheeky mark splashed across Marco’s chest, the paint smeared over his cheek and nose, brows even from where Ace got frisky and kissed the hell out of the phoenix before leaving him gilded for Sabo to plunder

Its a game, a scrap of lace it means the world to them

[xamaxenta]

Marcosabo thoughts where Marco holds Sabo down with that crazy beast zoan strength and heals the wounds he’s come home with

Sabo hates it, spits that he’s never gonna be able to do his work right if he doesn’t suffer if he doesnt heal naturally, the healing via phoenix proxy method still hurts but it never lasts for long

Marco remains calm, keeps him in a hold Sabo has never to his dismay learnt to break out of and asks him why does he want to hurt? When he can fix it, hasnt he had enough?

Sabo always thinking of others before himself snaps a retort that viciously asks Marco if he will play healer for the entire army and Marco scoffs and presses his fingers into the edge of a laceration just to see him flinch

“I don’t have any personal commitments to them.”

Sabo looks stricken for a moment, hes always so expressive during these healing sessions, twists in Marco’s grip his mouth tilted in a tight unhappy line

“You’re a selfish bastard.” Sabo hisses, his good eye glitters with something more than anger, shining between the strands of sweaty blonde hair sticking to his face.

“So we’ve found out.” Marco agrees and tugs Sabo back, who comes unwillingly, but, with a burn of satisfaction that Marco had to transform his hand into talons just to keep him close.

“I’m going to do the fractured rib now. If you think you’re going to pass out—“ Marco nods at his burning breast, phoenix flames wreathing his clavicles and torso in a soft invitation.

Sabo glowers at him, “Ace hates it when you get like this.”

“I dont really care what Ace likes and doesn’t like me doing to you.” Marco slowly lets go of Sabo to move his hand down to where the bloody bruise mottles across Sabo’s flank and radiates in a throbbing swell to his hip.

“You—“ Sabo almost bites off his own tongue, teeth snapping shut over an agonised groan, blue flame burns against his skin, penetrates deep and invasive and unnatural as he feels his insides, his wounds react to the phoenix.

“Lucky.” Marco murmurs, eyes glowing a faint violet, clearly fixated on Sabo’s trembling whitened lips, “I would’ve healed that too.”

Sabo doesnt doubt that, he’d rather choke on his own blood than allow the phoenix into his mouth.

He refuses to moan in the wash of relief that comes with his fractured ribs being reset, refuses to give Marco that satisfaction.

But he cant stop the tears spilling down his cheeks and loathes that Marco obviously enjoys to see it.

[xamaxenta]

Sabo and Marco bundled up together, curled around each other doing their own little thing, Sabo skimming reports and trying so hard not to doze off against Marco’s truly incredible chest and Marco leafing through a book he forgot where he left off though

Sabo recognises the cover and reminds him, its page 117 and Marco flips to it with a smile because Sabo never forgets any detail at all, how he keeps it all in his head is a true mystery

Its only after two chapters that Marco realises Sabo has stopped talking, moving and when he glances down sees him fast asleep, completely relaxed, head lolled back and to the side

Ace clatters into the room and Marco holds a finger up to his lips when Ace looks over at them briefly

Ace hesitates, almost trips one boot halfway off, normally he’d kick them off but he notices Sabo and he sets his foot down slowly

Quietly creeps over to observe Sabo with a fascination Marco doesnt get to see often on his face, Ace then makes a soft noise in his throat

“Cute.” Marco agrees and Ace nods

“dont let him hear you say that.”

“He’d probably maul me.”

“Would.” Ace corrects bemusedly and then he flops down beside them jostling Sabo into a brief period of waking, the blonde whines through his nose as Ace gets comfy. Shoving his hands under Sabos pits and hauling him in close, sandwiching him between Marcos chest and his own

“Shh. you dont get to complain about this.” Ace mutters, sticking his nose into blonde curls and inhaling deeply.

Marco reclines a little further back to give them some more room.

“Hot.” Sabo voices his complaints anyway

“You love it.” Ace grumbles, swearing when Sabo’s icy feet brush against his thigh

“Noh.” Sabo says but hes already half asleep.

Marco has never wished more than now that if only he had made a habit of keeping a snail close by, just to take self indulgent photos of Sabo and Ace taking a nap

He settles for ignoring his book and committing to memory the way they feel against him, their warmth, their scent, the sound of their breathing, a memory would mean so much more than a photo in the end