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Ace, in many ways, was somebody Luffy was not. Though Sanji had yet to discover they weren’t biologically related in the slightest, he picked apart and read into their differences and similarities alike.
Their dark hair. Where Luffy’s was black and shone accordingly, even in the sun, Ace’s did not. It was more akin to a very dark brown, shimmers of dark oak waving in the sea’s breeze.
Their complexions. Although Ace strutted around half-clothed—wearing his Whitebeard’s tattoo with pride—he wasn’t as tan as Luffy was. Luffy’s skin was a natural pigmentation where his was something brought on by long days under the sun; As such, it was also littered with freckles, which Luffy lacked. They both bore beauty marks, however.
Their eyes. Luffy’s, big and round—doe-eyed—and Ace’s, upturned and perpetually at nearly-half mast. Sanji found them both very fitting within their own regard.
Their noses. Ace’s was neither here nor there; Straight, but lacked anything particularly angular or soft. Luffy’s, however, was on the smaller side; straight, too, yet almost buttoned.
Their hands. This one was more embarrassing to admit, but Sanji naturally found himself observing other people’s hands as often as he did his own. Perhaps they wouldn’t hold as much significance to them as he held for his own, but it stood to be one of the first things Sanji would recognize somebody by. Nevertheless, Ace’s hands continued his bodily theme of ‘straight’; His fingers weren’t knobby, nor were they particularly dainty or soft. Veins protruded against his skin idly, running down his forearm and up to the tendons of his hands. Luffy’s weren’t so detailed; Like much of the rest of him, his fingertips rounded out (unhelped by his nubby fingernails, bitten as short as possible). His working tendons were visible, but not much else. On top of that, Ace had lengthier fingers, and Luffy’s were more proportionate to his palm. Ace’s knuckles were dusted in freckles, and Luffy’s in scars.
All of these things painted possibilities of what their parents might have looked like. Maybe they both had dominant genes, he’d thought, after the amalgamations of their traits didn’t quite add up. It wasn’t as though Sanji was genuinely curious—it just happened to be that after hours of standing in front of the stove, his mind tended to wander. It was a safe topic that he could entertain privately.
What was more pressing of a concern to him was their demeanors, however. Looking or not looking alike aside, it was increasingly difficult to imagine they’d both been raised under the same roof—save for the inhuman appetite.
Where Luffy was overbearing, Ace was not. Similarly, Ace was often the first to offer help during his stay with the Strawhats—was polite—where Luffy often forgot to even try. Small things piled into a mountain of contradictions.
But even then, Sanji supposed they were endearing in very similar ways.
They both voiced praise for his cooking; Everyone usually did (with the exception of the moss-dusted brute), so it wasn’t too exclusive of a trait, but they did it in ways that had Sanji preen. Ace would be face down in his plate, struck by a state of narcolepsy, but it’d already be scraped clean. If he was lucky, he’d only awaken with a streak of grease on his cheek, or a crumb on his eyebrow. Although Luffy refused to rest during any mealtimes, he came out of the galley in a similar state.
Their knack for testing how their strengths varied. It had to be something that they’d grown up with—maybe a way of expressing affection or conveying respect—because they’d go at it hourly. Endearing, yes, but irritating as well.
Especially when it was in the galley, and Usopp was forced to fix the cracked dinner table. The brothers had left with footprints on their faces, and if Ace bore less than Luffy did, well. That was just because he apologized first.
All in all, Ace was a breath of fresh air, and yet was familiar in a way Sanji was immediately comfortable with. He was someone new; a rush of adrenaline, even. Ace was someone so much more experienced than the rest of them, and bore a surplus of anecdotes from far-off islands—most of which the crew sought to dock at in the future. Talking to him was addicting in more ways than one; He was alluring, flirtatious, and his confidence made for an immaculate delivery.
The more it was pondered, the more it became clear that it was only a given that something would become of them both.
☆
“Y’need help for anythin’ else?” Was Ace’s clockwork call, lingering while the others had taken their leave from the galley. He sat satisfied, beaming as his chin rested in his palm. “The dishes, maybe?”
“No, Ace, you’re a guest. We’ve been over this.” Sanji chided, but the smile in his voice gave him away. Pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, he made his way to the counter to lean against it. It never felt right to sit at the table as a cook; There was a thrum under his skin that told him something always needed to be done. Fishing for a cigarette, he continued, “I’ll have one of the others do it after their stomachs have settled.”
“If you’re sure.” A pause. He could feel Ace’s stare on him, on his lips.
“Wait, here, let me,” Before he could question what he meant, the dark haired man stood before him, cupping the stick and using his pinky as a match. He shook the rising smoke off for show.
“Thanks.” His murmur was quiet around the cigarette—it didn’t need to be loud, not for how close Ace stood.
He didn’t move.
“You want one?” Sanji thought to offer, but made no move to reach for one. He only held his in place between his index and middle finger, unmoving.
He knew what game they played.
“Nah, not for me.” That grin was dangerous. It made Sanji’s gut do something vicious; Made his blood run a little faster. Ace's arms caged Sanji to the counter so naturally that he wouldn’t have doubted if they’d somehow done this before. “Don’t look as pretty doing it, y’know?”
That brought a flush high on Sanji’s cheeks. Flirt or otherwise, there were very few people that entertained him in such ways. Robin would, at times; she likely found it entertaining to see Sanji stumbling over himself, or maybe just find joy in being cunning altogether.
This was different, though.
This was a genuine proposition, not a half-assed attempt to get him flustered. If Ace wanted to do that, his words were enough. His close contact was indicative of his own want, his own craving—it was a power trip to be wanted to blatantly by someone so attractive and it almost made him dizzy.
That aside, he kept his ground as long as he could. He wanted to know how long he could keep it up before he was brought to his knees.
“Mm.” He knew that if he gave the compliment too much mind he’d burst on the spot, so he didn’t. After taking a drag, he breathed: “Did you offer to help just for show, then? Ulterior motives? That’s unlike you, hotshot.”
His voice was teasing and full of mirth, smoke rising between them and curling above. Such was their little dance: temporary, but intoxicating.
“You don’t have to lie to spend time alone with me.”
“I don’t? You seriously should’ve have told me that earlier. Now everybody’s got me doin’ their chores.” Ace caught on immediately, playful as his gaze remained fixated on Sanji’s. If he looked close enough, he swore there was a flame behind them, burning everything in its wake. Part of him hoped to be caught up in it. “You’re always tucked in here; Didn’t know how else to get you to look at me.”
The timbre of his voice was low, searching. It was addictive.
“Liar.” Border crossed, Sanji brought his free hand up to rest against Ace’s bare abdomen, fingertips barely brushing against defined muscles. His forefinger dragged upwards in a lazy trail, destination unclear. He held Ace’s gaze all the while. “Everybody’s eyes are on you.”
He huffed a laugh at that, humble and flattered.
“I wouldn’t say so; Or, not all of ’em are good, anyway. Your swordsman looks at me like he’s plannin’ to kill me in–in my sleep.” By then, Sanji’s fingers were running across the waist of Ace’s shorts. He could see the man’s adam’s apple bob as his touch traced the beginnings of his happy trail. It made him grin all the wider, smoke trailing from the sides of his lips.
“Don’t pay attention to the green-haired gorilla,” He murmured, unperturbed. Maybe he’d read into it more later, but that was the last thing on his mind. “He’s probably just pissed you nap more than him.”
Ace hummed in assent, voice still a little far-off; He was far too focused on the soft touches against his sensitive skin to trade witty remarks, eyes and tongue unfocused. Eventually, he quipped; “Fine. Besides, I only care ’bout yours—how you look at me. You know that.”
Sanji took another drag of his cigarette, feeling Ace’s hands migrate properly to his hips and give a gentle squeeze.
“And now you have me,” He replied easily, giving his silent consent. “So what will you do?”
“Whatever you’ll let me do.” He’d stepped closer by then, dipping his head to Sanji’s neck and trailing his nose up his carotid. When the blond shivered, his grip tightened.
Everything between them fell into stride smoothly, flame dancing with flame, nose bumping against nose.
Their laughs were breathy as they came together, their kiss a gentle ebb and flow of the electricity that’d built up between them. The hand that held the cigarette cupped Ace’s jaw with its remaining fingers, considerate not to touch him with it. The other, at his partner’s belt, had been pushed up to sit flat on a warm pectoral—unmoving, but appreciative all the same.
Ace’s hands grazed down Sanji’s flanks, kneading and fondling and pulling him that much closer.
The nameless thing that shackled them was quickly becoming overpowering, fraying the corners of their already stretched-taut minds. Sanji supposed that these types of things tended to occur when they'd been aged like fine wine in a brew of tension and want.
Something snapped when the blonde man exhaled shakily as they parted—Ace’s answering breath was smothered shortly, their kiss evolving into an entity more feral than before. The brunette’s pawing at his hips grew to be that much more pronounced as his kisses trailed from pouted lips to the sensitive underside of his jaw, nipping and sucking whenever Sanji believed he’d finally gathered his bearings. The cigarette was long forgotten by then, deft hands moving efficiently to extinguish it in an ashtray beside them.
“Mm,” Sanji’s hum of appreciation was a quiet, pretty thing. He followed by pushing at freckled skin semi-insistently, gratitude seeping through reverent fingertips as Ace pulled away without complaint. He was sweet like that--it did nothing to quell the embers in Sanji’s gut. He pushed Ace towards the dining table, reveling in the confused--but aroused--raise of brows he was gifted in return.
“Can’t suck you off in my workspace,” He mumbled, giving into the urge to press another wet kiss to Ace’s lips before pulling away once more. “but this will have to do.”
Ace’s reaction was more than satisfactory, his affection becoming urgent as he back-tracked to where he sat earlier. It was almost as though he was trying to give his thanks through rushed hickies and open-mouthed kisses, which Sanji couldn’t help but laugh at. As soon as the backs of Ace’s knees hit the bench, he sat, not needing to bring Sanji down with him; The blonde man descended on his own in time with Ace, unwilling to take his lips off of his. Eventually, though, he settled with laving kisses to other parts of Ace: his jaw, his neck, his pecs, his abs, and, finally, his happy trail.
By then Sanji had already gotten comfortable on his knees, hands working at the man’s belt buckle. He’d been encouraged thus far with a warm hand threaded through blond tresses, a thumb rubbing gentle circles into his scalp.
“You’re gorgeous,” Sanji heard, Ace’s voice quivering and breathless. It made his heart swell.
“You don’t have to flatter me anymore, I’m on my knees already,” He quipped with a snort, his fingers quick in fishing out Ace’s erection. His smile was impish as he pumped the engorged cock lazily, thumbing at the slit and around the swell of its tip. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“That's not–Mm, shit,” Ace made valiant efforts at maintaining eye-contact, Sanji would give him that. The deepening flush on his freckle-spattered cheeks was increasingly appealing to witness, especially once paired with his bitten lip and furrowed brow. “I don’t… That’s not what I—ah! Oh, oh, you’re—you’re really go-... good at that. Oh .”
Sanji gazed up at him with eyes full of mirth, ‘I know’ written all across his features. He didn’t say it, though, opting instead for something better; he mouthed at the tip of Ace’s cock, his tongue replacing his thumb at the slit and his hand resting at the base, his pumping motions slow and not nearly enough to cum.
Ace writhed under his attention, his hips straining to buck into the warmth that teased him. Sanji knew he was impatient but did his damndest not to be–another difference between him and Luffy, perhaps, but not something to think about with a dick in his mouth. He focused more thoroughly on the task at hand, his eyes fluttering closed and his hips shifting to sit more comfortably between his splayed knees. He felt Ace’s leg hook around his waist, the man’s boot urging his ass to scoot closer. He entertained him, just an inch, before enveloping his cock with his mouth–this time, more than just a single inch.
Sanji heard Ace’s loud curse above him, the hand in his hair tightening into a fist and yet making delicate work of never legitimately pulling at the hair it held. He appreciated it, considering they never had traded what they liked in sex. He dipped his head just enough to have the tip of Ace catch behind his hard palate, pushing gently at the soft, and the brunette’s wavering breath told him enough.
“You done this before?” The man choked out, clearly struggling to form coherent thoughts. He panted heavily as he waited for a reply.
“Don’t think I’d try my first on you,” Sanji answered very simply when he lifted off of Ace, accentuating the weight of him by nosing at the underside of his cock. He followed the touch with a flat tongue. “You’re not small.”
“Maybe not, but– unh . You’re prideful, Sanji, I wouldn’t–I wouldn’t put it past you, is all.” The last bit came out in a rush of breath, hitching when Sanji made a move to take Ace back into his mouth.
“Maybe you’re right, but,” The twisting motions of his hand glided smoothly with the spit and pre-cum coating Ace’s cock, slow and teasing. Sanji chuckled when a particularly notable bead of pre-cum leaked from its slit. “I have. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”
Ace barely had a chance to respond before Sanji returned to his affection with vigor, chasing inch after inch in one consecutive dip. The freckled man made a strangled sound, his hips bucking into Sanji’s mouth fully. The cook, for his part, didn’t startle severely; the gag only further increased Ace’s pleasure, and the hand that retreated to fondle his balls drove him insane.
He was in shambles under Sanji’s attention, his stomach jumping when the head of his cock hit the back of the blond’s throat, and his noises inconsolable. His thighs tensed when Sanji’s hand, cold with his own spit, caressed at the junction where thigh met groin and whereabouts. It migrated upwards with every suck and slurp, following Sanji’s indecent symphony; Ace wasn’t much better, his groans and breathy hisses a cacophony of sound that was indicative of a man gone insane–and perhaps he had, Sanji’s venom coating his sex and his words seeping into his skin, glistened with sweat.
The flush on his cheeks had long since spread to his neck and abdomen, a patchy, ruddy backdrop for his splattered freckles. His chest rose and fell inconsistently, increasing in speed when Sanji swirled his tongue over the head of his cock before plunging back downwards–again, again, and again.
Ace thought him gorgeous where he sat, even if he could hardly see through teary eyes that refused to stay open for long; Sanji’s cheeks, too, were flushed–he couldn’t see to what extent, the color disappearing into the collar of his shirt, and a violent urge to declothe the man thrummed under his skin persistently. He could feel the scruff on Sanji’s chin brush against his balls every now and again, and though it should’ve been bothersome, it really wasn’t. It was instead a reminder of who he was with, and who was bestowing his affections so diligently onto his cock.
Sanji’s eyes had been closed for a good while, concentration evident in the way his lashes laid across his cheeks idly; soon enough, however, Ace’s attention was noticed, and those gorgeous blue eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. They were hazy with a wet, aroused glaze, his lashes shining where they clumped with moisture. Ace couldn’t help his groan.
“Gorgeous, gorgeous , you’re gorgeous,” He blubbered, no longer able to resist throwing his head back. He was precariously close to the edge with that one look that he couldn’t risk meeting Sanji’s gaze again, his hips lifting from his seat to pump into the blond’s mouth. “Choking on my cock so pretty, Sanji, fuck .”
That earned a genuine choke from the man, his embarrassment causing pale skin to flare into a vibrant red. As always, however, he pressed on, doing his best not to give into the praise. Still, his hips rocked against the wood of the galley beneath him.
“Don’t wanna stop,” Ace’s ramblings were only fragmented now, his muscles twitching in earnest. He was close, and he said as much. “Gonna cum. Gonna cum, Sanji, where can I–where can I cum, pretty?”
Sanji whined in response, his brows upturned in conflict. He wanted to tease Ace, to edge him until he begged, but his huffed breaths tore him down so easily. He felt his briefs dampen, but paid it no mind. He pressed his nose into Ace’s groin, moaning around him until he got the hint. Ace understood quickly, his hand tugging at blond hair until his cock was nestled in Sanji’s throat completely.
“ Fuck !” He came with a choked shout, tapering off into a gravelly moan with every subconscious pump into Sanji’s mouth. The blond clutched at Ace’s hip desperately, his other hand palming his own dick through the fabric of his pants. He hadn’t cum yet, wasn’t near it, but he was pleased all the same. Ace retracted himself from between Sanji’s lips at the tail-end of his release, his cum splattering a stripe across his lips and one, just a bit higher, across his (thankfully) closed eye and brow.
Ace slumped into his seat shortly thereafter, his cock spent across his stomach. He hadn’t gotten any of his release on himself, and Sanji swallowed what he was given, licking at what he could reach. He took wavering breaths as he rested his forehead against Ace’s knee, rocking into his own hand.
“Hey, hey,” He was unaware of Ace’s shifting, his large hand falling from his hair to cup at his cheek, his jaw. He couldn’t see much, an eye still closed, and the other cloudy, but he could make out the brunette biting his lip, a growl bitten in his throat. “C’mere.”
Sanji didn’t need to be told twice, putty in the hands that manhandled him onto Ace’s lap. He could feel the damp warmth of his cock pressing into the clothed expanse of his inner thigh, his breath hitching. The man’s hand wiped the cum from his face with warm fingers, diligent and gentle.
“You cum?”
“No,” Sanji murmured, his voice wrecked but lustful. Ace hummed quietly, clearly not expecting Sanji to, but courteous enough to ask anyway. His hands covered a sinful amount of space as they ran up and down Sanji’s waist, hips, and thighs, ending up at his ass and kneading the fullness there as he thought.
“How do you wanna cum, pretty?” His murmurs were quiet where his lips moved against Sanji’s, his tongue laving at them in a mock kiss. “What’dya want?”
“I just want you,” Sanji admitted, his hips rolling down into Ace’s; he could feel the man’s arousal grow, and it made him grin weakly around a progressively sore throat. “Whatever you want to give me.”
“Don’t say that,” Their eyes met, then, charged and wanting. Ace pulled him closer by his ass, grabbing and kneading in all the right ways. “I’ll give you everything. But there is one thing I’ve been wanting for a while.”
Before Sanji could voice his question, Ace extended an arm to reach for his discarded hat atop the tabletop, grabbing it and plopping it onto Sanji’s head. Like he was helpless to Sanji’s attraction, he leaned forward, mouthing kisses against his jaw before asking: “You know what that means?”
Sanji searched every obscure reference and instance with hats he ever encountered, attempting desperately to exclude strawhats. It must’ve been exclusive to cowboy hats, considering the implied nature of it–Luffy was many things, but promiscuous wasn’t one of them. Finally, with Ace’s teeth against his carotid, he remembered: He saw it in a film, once, full of dirty jokes and innuendos that left the characters with dirty looks or poorly-concealed blushes.
“You want me to ride you?” He questioned, his voice low and searching. Ace groaned into his skin, fingertips digging into where they gripped his hips, and his dick rocking up to meet Sanji’s.
“Yes, yes, god, yes ,” He certainly sounded pleased with the idea, almost tripping over himself in an attempt to meld himself closer to Sanji. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? I’ve been dying to know how long you can go.”
On cue, his hands fell to his thighs, kneading the corded muscle plushened by fat.
“Mm,” Sanji left Ace in suspense intentionally, mouthing kisses over his jaw before nipping. “Yeah, I can do that. Not in the galley, though.”
“Why not?”
Sanji pulled back and fixed him with an unimpressed look, to which Ace continued: “You were just choking on my dick, so I didn’t know if there was still a line to cross, y’know? Like, why not?”
“You’re an idiot,” Sanji said simply, listening to Ace continue to mutter about the ethics of sitting on dick in the galley he’d already defiled. “Hurry up and take me somewhere else before my dick gets soft.”
“That’s the thing, though. Where am I supposed to take you? I don’t know this place that well.”
“All this talk and you ain’t even figured out where you wanna fuck me yet?” Sanji’s goading was hot against Ace’s skin, his lips and tongue still fervent against it despite it all. “No fantasies or anythin’? Really?” He sat back on his haunches, then, adjusting Ace’s hat on his head with a playfully offended look. “You’ve been lyin’ to me, hotshot?”
“No, no, no–n-no, no,” It was funny, the way Ace scrambled to correct himself, his tongue still fat and paralyzed from Sanji’s affections just seconds before. His hands kneaded Sanji’s thighs reassuringly, looking truly apologetic under Sanji’s scrutiny. “No, nothin’ like that, baby. Trust me, I’ve fantasized a whole lot, like, a whole lot, it isn’t–” He saw Sanji’s teasing for what it was at that point, huffing in the presence of the blond’s mirthful grin, but continuing nonetheless, albeit more relaxed. “It isn’t that.”
“No, no, continue,” Sanji quipped, leaning closer to his partner and properly draping his arms over his shoulders. He looked positively impish. “I liked where that was going. I’m more than interested in your fantasies.”
“Maybe another time,” Ace dodged smoothly, running his hands backwards and to Sanji’s ass. His grabbing was casual, like he’d been doing it for years. “They jus’ all had to do with the kitchen, which you have some issues with, apparently. Either that or over the railing, you know, but I’m not sure you’d be up for that, either, dick out in the wind and everything. Plus, I’m sure half your crew would walk in on that. This ship is a fuckin’ shoebox, you know that?”
“Be nice,” Sanji warned, nipping again at Ace’s jaw. “Merry’s a lovely lady all the same.”
“Yeah, okay, but she doesn’t have a lotta places to fuck you in, as far as I’m concerned.” Ace refuted, surprisingly respectful of Sanji’s fondness towards his vessel. They looked at one another for a while, Sanji in thought and Ace in restlessness. His impatience grew by the second, and he ended up coaxing Sanji into a kiss in the interim, gentle but still aroused–pressing.
After a beat, Sanji pulled away, much to Ace’s half-lidded dismay. His dick was properly hard again, pressed snugly against Sanji’s still-buttoned shirt. He’d have to fix that soon, but Sanji’s voice pulled him from that train of thought.
“Oh, I know where we can go.” He murmured distantly, already peeling himself from Ace’s lap with quickness.
Said brunette, still in a lust-drunk haze, could only watch him make himself more presentable, unsure of what to do with his hands. He only kicked himself into gear when Sanji’s foot found his ankle (and after he’d caught a glimpse at the erection straining against those pristine slacks), his fingers fumbling with the button of his shorts after hoisting them up properly.
“Where we…-?” Ace unintelligently trailed off, his eyes trained on the ass facing him as Sanji made his way for the door.
“Below deck, come on.” Sanji didn’t wait for an eloquent response before he began tugging Ace behind him, his steps brisk and purposeful.
They were clearly over eager in their short trek, secrecy failing with the creaking swing of the galley’s door and the thumps of their feet against the wooden deck. Sanji tensed and ducked comically with every miscalculation, and Ace had half the decency to mirror him, trying to be more considerate of his surroundings (and failing miserably). He soothed the anxiousness under Sanji’s skin by pinching an asscheek or pressing up behind him whenever he stopped abruptly–being an overall menace, perhaps, but it was effective enough to have Sanji look like he was actually having a fun time with a dick hard enough to cut diamond as opposed to terrified of being caught with it.
It appeared as though many had turned in for the night as they passed the bunk rooms, gentle snoring being carried underneath the too-large crack under the door; those that hadn’t remained above deck, Ace supposed, no one else to be seen beneath.
It was when he was busy kissing Sanji into a wall hard enough to damn near push him through it that he was enlightened to the fact that it was not a wall, but a door, by Sanji opening it and letting them both trip past its frame. Ace caught him on instinct, kissing the blond through his stumbling and his frantic maneuvering to close the door behind them.
“A little warning woulda been nice,” He grunted under his breath, against Sanji’s lips, but refused to pull away. “What if I crushed you, huh?”
His fingers made quick work of the pinstripe button-up Sanji was clad with, practically throwing it open before Sanji pushed him back again. He went without complaint, searching Sanji’s face for an open complaint or protest.
“You wouldn’t crush me, idiot.” The blond was flushed and out of breath, but his grin was wide. There wasn’t an ounce of regret or shame in his face, or his demeanor; only excitement, thrill. His hand migrated to the front of Ace’s shorts, this time making no show of a teasing preamble and instead reaching for his cock past his poorly-done button and completely undone zipper. “But don’t be too loud, yeah?”
He pointed toward the ceiling with his free hand then, and Ace was forced to properly take in the scenery of the room they were in besides the dusty smell. Moonlight peeked in from above onto the unused miscellaneous junk through a grid-like hatch, and from the sound of the ocean waves, Ace assumed they were on the outer corners of the layout, which was good, all things considered. Around them was a variety of things; clearly used weights, furniture with protective cloth draped over them, sacks of rice and other grain, spare rope–generally things that pointed at this being a sort of last-minute storage-room, not suited to be anything beyond it despite how (minimally) spacious it was in comparison to the average storage closet.
“You come in here a lot?” He questioned idly, nosing at the back of Sanji’s ear before kissing it.
“You asking if I fuck a lot of people in the ship?” Sanji was unperturbed in his response, almost laughing at it. He clicked his tongue at Ace’s vague hum and shrug, leaning his head to the side to make more room for his ventures. “No, I don’t. Don’t think anyone would wanna be fucked beside dust bunnies and rope that’ll give ‘em rugburn.”
“But you would.” Ace clarified, pulling from Sanji just enough to regard him carefully. He sputtered in offense for a second, but found himself soon enough, squeezing Ace's cock threateningly tight. Ace’s expression twisted into something immediately worried (and, quite frankly, terrified), an apology on the tip of his tongue before Sanji replied.
“Yes, I guess I would.” He said simply, pressing the neat nail of his thumb into the slit of Ace’s cock to see him squirm and hiss in pleasure. “Guess you would, too.”
“Oh, me?” Ace was clearly out of breath and half-focused, but he took the time to babble anyway, his hands squeezing at the mounds of Sanji’s ass appreciatively. “I’d fuck you in the middle of a desert–fuck some dust. A little sand in the asscrack never hurt anyone, not in exchange for an ass like this .” He accentuated the word with a more perverse squeeze, grabbing all that he could, and still not all of it.
“An idiot is what you are if you think you’re stickin’ your dick in me in a desert,” Sanji snapped, clearly bashful under Ace’s blatant admittance of the extent of his affections. Still, he pumped his cock with vigor, his bottom lip between his teeth as Ace sucked at his neck. “I like exfoliating, but not like that. I might catch something beyond grains of sand in my fuckin’ rectum. You know how dirty that shit is?”
“ Whatever ,” Ace drawled dismissively, smacking the fat under his palms just to watch it bounce–as much as it could under the stiffness of his slacks, at least–over Sanji’s shoulder. “I’d fuck you anywhere, is what I’m sayin’.”
“Good to note,” Sanji said before leading Ace further into the room. “Now let me ride you, dickhead.”
He made quick work of ripping the cover off of a loveseat in the room while being kissed, and promptly pushed Ace onto its cushions. Like their fling in the galley, Ace followed the movement without complaint, but pulled Sanji with him, into his lap.
They had no room for banter in between ragged breaths, their lips coming together and searching almost ravenously. There was a moment where Sanji suspected Ace’s canines of pricking his bottom lip, but there was no time to complain past the initial gasp; Ace took it upon himself to manhandle Sanji out of his slacks and his briefs, groaning at how difficult it was to peel them from his thighs–their position surely didn’t help, but he didn’t rip anything, much to Sanji’s satisfaction.
The blond adjusted his weight to kick both articles of clothing off as though they’d offended him, attempting to shrug off his shirt in the same pass; he didn’t manage it, but hanging off of his elbows was better than his shoulders, if Ace’s eagerness was anything to go by. The freckled man migrated his affections down Sanji’s throat and to the rest of the exposed porcelain skin, mouthing and sucking the entire way down. He bit the meat of Sanji’s shoulder when the blond ground his length down onto his, his groan muffled into the reddening patch of flesh.
“ Shit, ” Sanji sounded wrecked despite not being touched, and Ace preened. “You got anything for the slide? I forgot about that when I…-”
“Here.” Ace shoved a small vial into Sanji’s hand, after fishing it from one of the compartments in his shorts. “You good, or do you want me to-?”
“No, no,” Sanji denied, already popping the cap open with his teeth. Ace mourned the chance to see it for himself, face still tucked into the junction of Sanji’s shoulder and neck, but vented his frustrations with a particularly sloppy hickey and a rough grind, hiking Sanji up with a breathy moan. His hands faltered where they were handling the bottle, but didn’t stop, finally getting his finger into it. “You’d tease me too much, and I really needed that dick in me over an hour ago.”
“Next time?” Ace asked hopefully, extracting himself just enough to watch Sanji slick his own fingers up and reach behind him with a quivering breath. When a punched-out moan tumbled from his lips, Ace couldn’t stop himself from touching wherever he could, rocking his hips as his hands dragged up and down the blond’s thighs and ass. When the response was lost in Sanji’s pleasure, he tried again, more desperately than before. “Next time, baby?”
“Next time,” Sanji promised, his eyes fluttering shut and his skin a splotchy, ruddy color. In Ace’s opinion, it was gorgeous, and he couldn’t help himself from nosing up Sanji’s jaw, only serving to distract the cook further. “Next time, you can– hn , you can… you…”
He trailed off, clearly preoccupied, and this time Ace didn’t press. In the meanwhile, he opted to take both of their dicks in his larger hand, spitting on them crudely to help with the traction. Sanji whined, likely in protest, but didn’t say anything beyond that, struggling between choosing the warmth of Ace’s fist or his own fingers. Ace regarded him closely with every passing rock, watching his mouth gape and his cheeks become a shade deeper whenever he shifted to add another finger. The cook was diligent in his stretching methods, clearly rushing himself, but Ace knew he wouldn’t forego his own safety completely. Everything aside, he trusted Sanji’s judgment, especially in regards to his own body and his limits.
“Done, done, I’m done, come on,” If all of Ace’s blood wasn’t in his dick, he’d likely tease Sanji for his eagerness. That said, he swore it was on the verge of bursting, so he scrambled to line himself up–after some minimal adjustment on Sanji’s part. “Come on, Ace.”
“I’m goin’, I’m goin’, relax,” Ace desperately tried to ignore how hot Sanji sounded demanding his dick, but failed spectacularly. He distracted himself by pushing the head of his cock against the tightness of Sanji’s entrance; he had to wiggle a bit before it managed to breach him with an inaudible pop, made easier by the oil and spit slicking them both. Groaning in unison, they rocked their hips to make the connection more seamless in Sanji’s descent.
When a commanding hand came to press itself against Ace’s abs, he realized that he didn’t have to–nor did Sanji want him to–do much at all but sit and watch him sink on his cock like he’d been doing it for years. As lovely as a sight as it was, impatience boiled in his bones and set his nerves alight, and his nails pricked the skin of Sanji’s straining thighs: itching for something to grab and maneuver.
Sanji, on his part, required no assistance. Ace’s deduction held fast; the cook was more than capable of lifting and rocking himself on his cock as slowly or as quickly as he felt fit, even while supporting himself on his knees as opposed to his toes. He leaned his weight back onto his arms–his hands on Ace’s splayed knees–and took quivering breaths, eyes hazy before he shut them completely. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth as his ass sat flush against Ace’s thighs, circling his hips with a sinful isolated movement. Ace was entranced, murmuring appreciative quips and praises.
When he started to lift and drop himself was truly the beginning of Ace’s downfall, his upper body curling like he’d been punched and hadn’t been expecting it–like he didn’t know how to handle the oncoming pressure. Sweat trickled down his hairline appropriately, surprise and desire hitting him from all sides.
“Shit, shit, shit, baby,” Take it easy , was lost on his tongue, choked when Sanji squeezed around him in retaliation. He should’ve known better than to challenge such a stubborn man, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, bringing his hands to Sanji’s criminally tiny waist to squeeze–and to perhaps at least appear like he had some semblance of control over the situation, over his reaction to Sanji’s heavenly ass. “Christ.”
“Fuck,” Sanji breathed, finally bouncing in earnest. He looked thoroughly debauched under the low light, flushed and warm in Ace’s arms with his shirt clinging to his sweaty skin for dear life. The hat stayed in place for the most part, if not tipping forwards slightly when Sanji dipped his chin on a cry. All things considered, his pace never faltered, slapping skin loud in the poor acoustics of the dinky room–no doubt floating up through the hatch above, but neither of them recalled that fact. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck , why’re you so… why’re you s-so big? ”
Ace couldn’t help but laugh at that, as breathless as he was. He could feel his sweat drip from his clumped hair down onto his shoulders. “I’m not th-...that big.”
“Feels like I’m full to the brim.” Sanji admitted, his brows furrowed in an expression that would look irritated if everything below his shoulders was censored. “Should’ve made a move on me sooner, we could’ve been doin’ this for–for days.”
“Mm, yeah?” Ace leaned forward to bump noses with the man in his lap, mouthing his words over his parted lips. “You think you’d be okay with eating dinner on a table I–hn–fucked you on? Cooking on–ah–on a counter I shoved y-your face into? Yeah ? Smoke against a railing I bent you over?”
Sanji didn’t have it in him to respond immediately, nodding jerkily as he tried to return Ace’s kisses, as sloppy as they were. When he did speak, his words were slurred and chopped, his momentum interrupting him. “Yes, y-yes, yes. Fuck , I want it.”
“I’ll fuck you stupid.” Ace promised, his words strained. For as much as he liked to talk, Sanji’s ass was better than he’d imagined, which was saying more than just something; he felt his orgasm approach, and was weak to the urge to buck into that tight heat that hit him. A perverse sense of accomplishment washed over him when Sanji jostled with a startled, hitched cry, his thighs tightening around where they bracketed Ace’s. Restriction wasn’t something he thought he’d fancied himself into, but a pull in his gut told him that if it was on account of Sanji’s thighs, he didn’t care. “Like that, Sanji. Just like that. Keep goin’, pretty boy.”
Sanji’s resulting keen had nothing to do with the dick he bounced on, caught off-guard like a chord deep inside him had been struck. Adjusting his grip on Sanji’s waist, Ace matched his rhythm, eager to manhandle him.
“You like that?” He continued, his eyes dark as he watched Sanji, as he searched for his gaze. Nothing could stop him from grinning when blue eyes met brown, sharp and vulpine. “You like it when I call you pretty?”
Sanji could only nod, but Ace gripped him harder, leaning ever closer. “Say it, baby.”
“Yes,” Sanji was beautiful when he whined, his face contorted in pleasure and frustration. He hadn’t been touched since Ace stroked them off a handful of times, and he hadn’t cum at any point in the night. Ace felt a sense of remorse creep up on him at that, immediately lifting Sanji’s weight for him and dropping him at the same pace he’d carried himself. His biceps strained, but he didn’t complain, watching Sanji lick his lips and blink wetly, unsure of what to do with himself but cry. “I like it, yes, I like it– shit , don’t stop.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Ace couldn’t stop himself from getting closer, mourning the view while still needing to nuzzle the side of Sanji’s face, desperate for the intimacy in it. He kissed as he went, licking the beaded sweat away. He felt Sanji’s hands twist around his shoulders, clutching at whatever he could–and tearing tracks into what he couldn’t, if the burning sensation in his sweat-slick back said anything. Ace didn’t mind, keeping Sanji in motion on his cock, feeling the tell-tale squeezing come into play. “Come on, pretty, cum on my cock.”
“Jesus,” Sanji breathed, his face pressed into Ace’s temple, kissing at his hairline and nosing into his hair. His mind was clouded with pleasure, overwhelmed and desperate all the same–and the words certainly didn’t help with it, awakening something ugly and insatiable within him. His skin and gut burned with the same intensity, and when he pressed himself closer to Ace, he found that it wasn’t entirely his own fault. “You’re hot. Like, physically, actually hot. You’re fuckin– hnn , you’re burnin’ me from the inside out.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t sound entirely put-out by that fact, pliant and willing in Ace’s arms, even attempting to drop his ass back into the man’s thrusts. Ace cursed at Sanji’s innate control over his hips, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him again.
“Sorry.” The apology was half-hearted, but was apologetic nonetheless. “Let me not crowd you so much.”
Before Sanji could ask what exactly Ace meant, he was lifted bodily, his breath hitching in surprise. He didn’t have time to express any concerns before Ace manhandled his body over the armrest of the seat, maneuvering jankily in the presence of so much discarded junk on the floor. All things considered, Sanji was surprised he hadn’t tripped, or at least stubbed his foot on something. Once positioned, his hips were at a perfect height to keep them upright while a hand bore down in between his shoulders–effectively pushing his upper half body into something less than 90 degrees. The position proved to be extremely pleasurable, Ace’s cock hitting him in places he hadn’t thought of.
He scrambled for something to hold onto, Ace’s thrusts only becoming more powerful behind him.
“This okay?” Ace asked breathlessly, draping himself over Sanji to lead his hands to the edges of the cushions with his own. He enjoyed seeing the size difference in them, his palms encapsulating the cook’s smaller ones with ease.
“Yes,” Sanji agreed with vigor, arching himself to lay his chest flat. His insides tightened and his voice climbed higher beyond his control, his fists white-knuckling the fabric under his fingers. The festering need in his abdomen grew exponentially, and he couldn’t stop his orgasm from where it’d gradually snowballed. “Shit, yes, yes, yes !”
Ace hadn’t had time to process Sanji’s orgasm after their too-quick change in position, only feeling him clench and wink around his cock; His voice had hitched on a too-loud cry, but Ace didn’t mind, only taking it as encouragement to continue in his viscous onslaught of pleasure, his orgasm tickling at the base of his spine. He refused to give into it, standing up straight to grip Sanji’s hips properly and fuck him to the best of his ability, his grunting paired nicely with Sanji’s soft moans.
Sanji clearly didn’t mind, welcoming the overstimulation with nothing more than a pleasured murmur, reaching behind himself to tug an asscheek to the side.
The view put Ace to rest immediately, curling over Sanji’s back with a startled groan and instinctually giving a sharp thrust that made Sanji yelp. His hips continued to pump into the blond subconsciously while he rested his burning forehead on Sanji’s shoulder, turning his face to press kisses onto it apologetically. He could feel his cum bubble and trickle out beside his cock but did nothing to clean it, basking in the come-down with his partner.
Their labor breathing was all that was heard for a few seconds–After a minute, Sanji turned his head to implicitly ask for a kiss, which Ace provided without issue. Their wet smacking filled the room lewdly, but as far as they were concerned, nobody else was around to hear it.
After gathering his bearings–which took unsurprisingly long, Sanji’s ass had to be some type of blessing or curse–Ace lifted Sanji again, returning them to their previous position on the loveseat, his slimmer body hoisted onto Ace’s lap.
“You got a plan for clean-up?” Ace questioned softly, his fingers threading through strands of gold (his hat had fallen from Sanji’s head somewhere in between getting turned on his front and being brought back to relax, but Ace wasn’t entirely concerned with its whereabouts yet). Sanji didn’t appear to mind the touch at all, leaning into his palm with a hum and shaking his head.
“Fuck no,” He admitted, his voice on the more broken side. He cleared his throat and pressed on with a chuff, his grin entirely satisfied. “I was– mm , I was only concerned with gettin’ you in me, I think. You got one?”
“No,” Ace chuckled right back, his other hand tracing formless shapes into Sanji’s hip. His cheeks, too, were flushed, albeit not as noticeably as Sanji’s–and at this point, the afterglow had very little to do with it.
(They looked at one another too softly for what they were, perhaps, but it felt right. This was easy. Sanji supposed this was just a gene shared by brothers–the capability of making him feel so at peace, and yet entirely and completely bare.)
“Maybe you can tie this around you,” He continued, referencing the protective piece of cloth that once clad the loveseat, jerking his chin vaguely towards it. “Like that one story of the mermaid–you know the one?”
“Like fuck I’m doing that,” Sanji laughed. His grin was enamored, illuminated under the stronger moonlight, raised higher in the sky the deeper into the night they got. The floating dust didn’t bother either of them, only one another in eachother’s focus. “I’d rather get cum on my clothes.”
“Thank god you didn’t get any on mine.” Ace’s shorts had fallen to his ankles with their change in position, and when Sanji looked over his shoulder to see, he laughed at the idiocy of them still hanging off of his shoed feet.
“You couldn’t step out of them or something?” Sanji teased, regarding him with a humored fondness. His tone was playfully irritated when he continued, readily told apart by Ace, who’d spent too much time observing him. “And what do you mean ‘thank god’? It would’ve been your fault anyway, cumming in me and setting me down like some doll.”
“Shh,” Ace interrupted him with a kiss, but not unkindly. He was grateful to see that Sanji wasn’t truly off-put by the action, feeling the blond melt against his lips with nothing more than an exasperated huff (that was, of course, all for show). In between the ebb and flow and against Sanji’s lips, he murmured, “You liked it.”
“Whatever,” Sanji answered reluctantly, leaning back in for more.