Work Text:
Marco receives the first text at 11 o’clock in the morning.
He’s just grabbing his second coffee of the day from Koala, a newer medical student, when his phone chirps in his pocket. “Oh, one second, sorry,” he mutters, shuffling his coffee and laptop while he tries to grab his phone. Ace texts him at work about anything and everything, but he usually tells Marco to just ignore his texts. Marco has summarily ignored those instructions for the better part of a year. Koala nods and walks away to hand over the rest of the coffees in her carrier, starting up a chat with one of the more amicable residents at the end of the hall.
Marco lifts his coffee to take a cautious sip while he balances his phone on his laptop to look at the message. He nearly inhales the entire sip when his phone unlocks to Ace’s text history. He splutters through his next exhale and does his best not to drop everything in his arms, but especially his phone, because it’s still open to the video preview of Ace filming himself in their floor length mirror, the hem of his shirt between his teeth and a glimpse of black silicone between his thighs.
Marco immediately jams his phone into his back pocket where his lab coat will cover it, furiously pressing the power button. At the end of the hall, Koala and the bubbly resident turn at his spluttering and he waves them off, coughing into his elbow and nearly dropping his coffee with the motion. “Fine , I’m fine, all good.” Marco clears his throat intently and desperately hopes he hasn’t started blushing. “It was just… hot.”
“Oh, damn!” Koala grimaces and gestures apologetically at him. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to warn you!”
Marco shakes his head at her. “No, it’s fine, I should have known.” He excuses himself and heads down the hall in the other direction, trying not to look like a timid dog and instead like the 6’8 grown man that he is.
At the next possible convenience, he’s going to watch the video, and then immediately chew Ace out for sexting him while at work. And then watch the video again, for posterity’s sake.
At 11:10, he receives the next video.
He’s already thoroughly grouched at Ace for the video, which had about all the effect of using a wet sponge to soak up a lake.
so you don’t like it?
Of course I do. But I nearly died from coffee inhalation, so maybe be more careful next time. I’ll see you later tonight.
His wording was his second mistake. The first was probably locking himself in his office to watch the video on loop until he finished his coffee. Still, he doesn’t realize that to Ace, next time means as soon as he can get another video to send.
The next video is closer to the mirror but in the same position. Ace’s biceps are on display, one arm keeping his phone close to his chest to record, and the other balanced on the ground between his thighs, censoring anything too risque. Still, he's moving slightly, rocking up and giving breathy little moans every time he comes down. Marco can just see the curve of his hip and thigh at the corner, but the video is too close to get a glimpse of anything. Ace’s comment comes right after.
is that better?
Marco grits his teeth on an exasperated groan.
You know it isn't. I can't believe you're doing this to me right now.
guess i'll have to try a little harder.
Marco stares at his phone.
He could end this all right here and now with a single text. He could tell Ace he didn't want to get in trouble, or that if he was good then Marco would make it up to him later. His fingers hover over the screen, deliberating. Marco takes a deep breath and starts typing.
You're gonna get me in trouble.
He pauses.
I couldn’t see enough in that last one.
By lunch time, Marco is carrying so much tension in his shoulders he suspects Atlas might have had it easy. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket while he was talking to his last patient, a middle aged woman with a bad hip injury, through a treatment plan and all while she rambled about her three grown children and two grandkids. He’s been resisting the urge to check it for hours now, mostly because he doesn’t trust his composure to break if he tries to use it to check his emails.
Marco’s had two people ask him if he was okay and if he needed to take a break. He’s refused both times on principle. The day feels like it’s extending with every second that ticks by. He resolves to eat lunch for once, if only for something to distract himself with.
Luckily Law lost some sort of bet last week and has been bringing takeout for him and a few other doctors. Marco sighs and sits down with the rest of them at the table they’ve claimed and hopes he’ll be called away to something important so he doesn’t have to think about his phone for the rest of his shift. He’s only here for three more hours and then he can find out what the hell Ace has been up to while he was gone. Gerd shifts his container of birria tacos close enough to nudge his elbow and leans in. “Hey… are you doing okay? Rough shift?”
Marco just shakes his head and grabs his food. “No, it’s fine. Just looking forward to getting done with this and relaxing tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Hongo remarks across from him. “You’ve got the day off, huh?”
Gerd suddenly grins and smacks the table. She’s strong enough that Marco has to save his sauce container from flying. Hongo isn’t so lucky and has to quickly right his drink before it can completely flood the table. “That reminds me! Gonna hang out with your boyfriend again and leave us hanging on Saturday?”
Hongo looks up from where he’s mopping up his coffee. “Boyfriend?”
Even Law is looking up now, albeit from out of the corner of his eye. Marco curses internally.
“That’s… okay, well, no, that’s– it only happened once.” It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk about Ace. In fact, the other doctors have heard about Ace from him before, multiple times. Hell, they’ve even seen pictures of most of his family. It’s just that Marco hasn’t gone out of his way to identify Ace as his boyfriend… or even imply that he has one at all. He’s a private person at heart, and while he won’t lie and say that it wouldn’t be nice to see Ace hanging out with his work friends, he really doesn’t need a repeat of losing his boyfriend for two hours in a crowded nightclub because his friends thought Ace was the best thing since sliced bread.
“You ditched us last time because you were with your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I get it, but it was admittedly mini-golf, and not, like–”
“See! It was mini-golf and you ditched us!” Hongo is very serious about his free time, but especially about mini-golf. “I can’t believe this.”
Law seems to be thinking something similar. “I wasn’t aware that you were even open to dating in the first place.”
“Well, I’m not.” Marco gives up and rubs his temple. “The boyfriend, remember? We’re very happy together and it is exactly none of your guys’ business.”
“Of course, of course.” Gerd nods sagely. “So who is it?”
Marco opens his mouth– to reply something, he’s still not sure what yet– when his phone buzzes. He tries not to dive for the opportunity to be doing anything else and casually pulls it out of his pocket.
It takes a second for it to register. On one hand, it’s nice to know that it’s currently 12:34 and sunny outside. On the other, Ace just sent him another video and his phone has helpfully enlarged the preview. Marco slams his phone down so fast he worries briefly about cracking the screen before he consoles himself by promising to bill Ace for it. He buries his head in his hands so the others can’t see his expression and wishes for a convenient meteor to touch down.
“Okay,” Hongo says, “you wanna tell us what that was about?”
Marco thinks quickly, still not looking up. He’s not the best liar alive, but he’s gotten more practice in the form of trying to divert Luffy away from his secret stash of candy. “Fucking Haruta being an idiot again trying to steal Izou’s car.” Sorry Haruta , he apologizes mentally.
Law wrinkles his nose in disgust. “They’re still on that? This is like the fifth time now.”
“I mean, to be fair, the car is a piece of shit,” Marco remarks, sliding his phone discreetly off the table and back into his pocket. “Izou just won’t give up on it. Haruta’s been trying to take that thing to the junkyard for nearly a year now.” It’s not even a lie.
“Sure, right,” Gerd says. “So the boyfriend.”
“Gerd, give it up.” Law sighs and starts squeezing a lime onto his tacos and hisses when he gets it into a cut on his finger.
Gerd points at him. “That’s what you get for trying to stop me. This is the first time we’re hearing about this guy! Like hell am I gonna let this go.”
To Marco’s despair, Hongo is nodding along. “She’s right. This is the first time you’ve mentioned him to us. I mean, Shanks is going to have a field day hearing about this.”
The fact that Shanks still does not know about his and Ace’s relationship despite multiple Luffy visits over the years is one of the few reasons Marco hasn’t disregarded the possibility of a higher power. “Absolutely not. You are not telling Shanks anything.”
Hongo just snorts. “You wanna bet? I can keep a secret from Shanks, I’m not Beckman. But if you don’t tell me, then I’ll guess I’ll just have to call in the cavalry.”
Maybe contemplating murder is a little much for a doctor, but Marco has very few vices to indulge in. “Look, not that it’s that big of a deal…”
“Is it Thatch?” Gerd interrupts. “Jozu?”
“Like hell it’s Jozu,” Hongo scoffs, “look at him.” He gestures helpfully with his plastic spork in Marco’s direction. “There’s no way he doesn’t go for the pretty boy type. I bet it’s Izou.”
Marco practically shivers at the concept. “I’m not dating Izou.”
“Okay, that’s one down,” Gerd nods through a mouthful of taco and makes a rolling go on gesture at Hongo. “Keep going, we’re getting closer.”
“I’m not–” Marco closes his eyes and squeezes the bridge of his nose to fight off an oncoming headache. “If I tell you, will you leave it alone?”
Gerd nods eagerly, chewing even faster, and Hongo places a solemn hand over his heart. “We promise.”
Marco just sighs, world-weary. “I’m dating Ace.”
There’s a brief silence, populated only by Gerd’s furious chewing. Hongo coughs into his fist, poorly masking his surprised delight. Gerd finally manages to swallow before he can start talking.
“You’re dating Ace?”
“Yes, I’m–”
“Like Ace, as in, pretty boy Ace?”
Marco opens his eyes to stare incredulously at the two of them. “Excuse me?”
“Oh thank god,” Gerd groans, conveniently ignoring him. “I’ve been meaning to tell you to date him for ages.”
“What in the world are you even talking about?” Marco looks over to Law, desperately in need of some common sense to enter the conversation.
Law shrugs without looking up from his taco. “I was going to tell you to break up with your boyfriend and date Ace.“
Marco throws his hands in the air in lieu of trying to reach over the table and strangle him. “You just promised not to make this a thing!”
“Technically he didn’t promise,” Hongo points out, “we did. And if you want to push that even further, only I said it.”
Law nods along, turning to his last taco solemnly. Marco shakes his head in disgust and starts to clean his glasses on his shirt. Better to have this conversation blind. “Just tell me why you call him ‘pretty boy Ace’.” And then we can shelve this conversation forever , he adds mentally.
“I mean, he is one, that’s why,” Gerd points out, like Marco doesn’t wake up next to him every day and experience that for himself. “He was in here the other day dropping off your ID, remember? I’m pretty sure Penguin at reception is in love with him now after Ace got him flowers.”
Marco was there for that, and is perfectly happy to fact-check. “Ace didn't go out and get him flowers, he just happened to offer him the one on him at the time.”
“Right.” Hongo laughs at that. “Because Ace just so happened to be wearing a flower behind his ear that day.”
Law groans and covers his mouth with his napkin, looking a little green. “Don't remind me. I've been hearing about hibiscus flowers for months now.”
“See?” Gerd shrugs.
And Marco does see, dammit, but he also knows that Ace likes to wear hibiscus flowers because Whitebeard grows them for him, and he also knows that Ace doesn’t like hospitals but went that day because he wanted to help Marco, and he also knows that if Ace could hear this conversation while he's sexting him right now he'd be laughing his head off. So Marco raises his hands like he's surrendering and takes his food with him as he leaves the rest of them there. “I've heard enough. I'm going to go eat my food in peace. Stop gossiping about my boyfriend and get back to work.”
“Sure,” he hears Gerd say behind him, “go abandon us and enjoy your boyfriend!”
Marco shakes his head in disgust and exits as fast as he can, resolutely not looking back.
He’s alone in a secluded hallway when he's able to turn back to his phone.
Marco pulls out his phone like he's defusing a bomb, despite it currently being muted and powered off. He keeps his finger on the volume down button on the side as he turns it back on, just in case it gets any funny ideas about playing audio. His heart still gives a pathetic little kick when he sees the open preview pop up. It seems like Ace took his advice to heart, because this time his legs are spread out for the camera.
Ace is holding the toy by the base and easing it in and out in a gentle rhythm. His thighs are tensing from the strain and Marco can hear the faint little noises he's making when he dares to raise the volume slightly. Ace seems to be having trouble keeping the camera still from the slight wobble that happens when he slips and the dildo slides further in. Marco is suddenly aware that there's not enough air in the room when Ace tosses his head back and makes a particularly choked up sound at that.
Swallowing hard, Marco exits out of full screen and then his messages entirely. He still has a few more hours to go and he really can't be getting distracted like this. Ace hasn't said much either, apparently preferring the videos to do the talking for him. Unfortunately for Marco’s sanity, he's getting the message loud and clear. come home.
Marco tilts his head back and exhales a harsh breath to overpower the ringing silence in his ears. Just a few more hours, and then he’s out.
“You're kidding, right?”
Law just shakes his head at him. “Nothing we can do about it.”
“Fuck,” Marco hisses. His shift is almost over with an hour left on the clock, but they're short staffed and there's too many patients for him to leave the others to this mess in good conscience. “God, okay, message received.” Ace is going to kill him.
“Probably going to be at least another three hours,” Law remarks. Marco feels his heart stutter. Fuck, Ace is going to kill him.
He’ll have to make it up to him somehow, or Whitebeard’s going to find out he made Ace unhappy somehow, and then he’ll be spending the holiday season at the bottom of a lake with weights tied to his ankles.
Marco runs a hand through his already messy mohawk and starts to disaster plan. It's not that Ace isn't understanding about his schedule at the hospital, but…
Marco’s phone takes the opportunity to ding in his pocket, and the reminder sends a chill up his spine. Right, that.
Marco puts his back to a window. He's on the second story, so there’s no one to peek over his shoulder from outside. Pulling up his messages, he shoots off a quick text to Ace, firmly refusing to scroll up.
I'm going to be a few hours longer because we’re understaffed. I don’t know when I'll be getting home, so don't wait up.
Ace answers almost immediately.
you owe me for this.
Marco valiantly tries to make his case, but it's a moot point.
It's not like I planned to. I didn't know you were doing this today, or I would have planned ahead.
Then, because he’s weak:
I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise.
Ace’s typing bubble pops up then disappears, once, then twice. Finally, while Marco is contemplating turning his phone off again, he responds.
i want pancakes tomorrow. blueberries and whipped cream non-negotiable.
Marco tries not to grin too hard as he types out an affirmation and puts his phone away. God, but if he doesn't love him.
There's a chill in the air when Marco finally leaves the hospital. The sun is already turning magenta, and it’s an otherwise relaxed night, if not for the stranglehold that Marco has on his phone and coat as he paces to his car. Everything feels like it’s taking forever, from the time it takes for his car to start to pulling out of the parking garage.
He’s a good driver, and he doesn't get agitated, unlike Izou’s infamous road rage. Despite that, he still finds himself pressing just a little bit harder on the accelerator. He’s not going to beat the sunset, but it makes him feel slightly better. With every mile he gets closer to their shared apartment the more his hands tense on the wheel before he notices and has to force himself to relax.
He parks with deliberate caution as if to make up for his earlier eagerness, but he still jabs the button to call the elevator with a little too much force. Marco’s usual button up feels unusually restrictive as he takes the stairs into the main building and then into the second elevator. By the time he makes it to their floor, he’s sure he looks disheveled, from his messy mohawk to the buttons that he's already popped on his collar. He's even shed his coat, despite the pervasive chill now that the sun has set. Marco has a hand on his keys and is about to insert them into the lock when his phone buzzes.
Marco pauses and contemplates not looking. He’s about to get the real thing, after all. Despite himself, he checks his phone.
miss you, is the only message lighting up his phone screen.
Marco curses and scrambles for the lock. He’s not thinking as he moves to the kitchen and shoves what he can away before he’s striding to the light at the end of the hallway: their bedroom door is slightly ajar, casting a bright stripe of glowing tangerine across the otherwise dim apartment.
Marco pauses, chest heaving with exertion at the threshold.
Ace looks like a dream laying in the middle of their sheets, spread out on the bed and flushed like he’s just run a marathon. The lamp in the corner is painting him in shades of ochre and gold, highlighting the shine of sweat on his loose limbs.
Marco slows in the doorway, taking his time to set his messenger bag to the side and slide off his jacket without taking his eyes off him. Ace tilts his head onto his shoulder and gives Marco a toothy grin, canine teeth digging into his lower lip. “Took you long enough.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t just up and leave without actually closing up for the day.” Marco deposits his jacket onto the desk chair and slowly makes his way to the foot of the bed. Ace leans back on the pillows like a king reclining on his throne.
“Sure you could. Just tell them you had a needy boyfriend giving you hell and you wouldn’t be back for a few days.”
Marco ignores this and crawls up the bed slowly, taking his time to bracket Ace’s body with his own. “Have you really been here for hours, doing–” his hands slide down his boyfriend’s thighs where they’re hitched up, coming around to grip the fat and skin on the undersides. He doesn’t touch the vibrator yet, content to watch Ace’s thighs flex involuntarily at Marco’s grip. “Doing this all day?”
Ace just grins up at him, idly flipping the remote around in his fingers. “Not technically. I played around with that dildo, got off, took a shower, did the dishes, and then I came back to do it all over again.” The hand holding the remote toys with the dial where it’s set to a comfortable buzz, seemingly content to talk with Marco hovering over him all night like he doesn’t have a vibrator in his ass and sweat making his bangs stick to his face.
Marco nods wisely at this and leans down to finally kiss him, humming when Ace surges up and tosses his arms around his shoulders to pull him down. He tries his best not to press his budding smile into the kiss, but with the way Ace is giggling breathlessly against his lips, he’s not very successful. He hums again, this time in approval, and shoves Ace down into the bed without breaking the kiss, using the movement to reach back and snatch the remote from his hand and crank the dial up to the second highest setting.
“Nngh– fuck!”
Ace arches immediately into Marco’s awaiting grasp, head tilting up to gasp at the sensation. The movement exposes the long line of his neck to Marco’s teeth, and he wastes no time pressing a biting kiss to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Ace’s now freed hand smacks against his chest, grabbing a handful of his button down in his desperation. The hand on his back is already shaking, nails digging in even through his undershirt.
“Ah– mmh, Marco–!”
Marco presses a sweet kiss to the underside of his jaw in understanding and lowers the dial back down to its lowest setting, and then cranks it back up immediately. Ace spasms in his grip, and Marco transfers his weight onto his forearm so he can use the hand he was holding himself up with to tilt Ace’s face back into a kiss. Every time he pulls away Ace makes these little hitched sounds in his throat, eyelashes fluttering and face flushed gratifyingly. Marco leans back into him, letting more of his weight press Ace into the bed as he trades lazy kisses. “Feeling better now?”
“Ah, fff–fuck, Marco…”
Ace’s hair is strewn across the pillow like a messy halo. He can’t seem to say much with the way his chest is heaving, but that may be partially Marco’s fault with the way he keeps lowering the vibrator’s intensity only to shove it all the way back up. He doesn’t bother letting Ace catch his breath, just keeps playing with the intensity so Ace keeps scrabbling for a grip across his shoulders, barely able to catch hold before the vibrator responds and his hands slip again.
Ace is panting too hard to kiss him now, but Marco is unbothered. He presses a kiss to his temple, then his cheek as his hand wanders down his flank to grab a freckled thigh and hitch it up against his waist. He keeps kissing across his face absentmindedly, kneading the grip on his thigh while flicking the remote to its highest setting and leaving it there. Ace whines in response. He hasn’t been making coherent sounds for a while now, just little high pitched whines at a pitch Marco didn’t know he could hit.
Marco presses a firm kiss to his hairline and waits, ducking down into his neck to smell sweat, sex, and the cologne Marco bought him last Christmas. It’s faint, but he’s so close he feels like he can taste cinnamon and bergamot on his tongue. He must have put it on after his shower.
“You– ah, bastard– mh!”
It’s the first coherent thing Ace has said in minutes. Marco hums again, deep in the back of his throat so Ace can feel it against his neck. “Hi, sweetheart.”
Ace twitches against him and Marco muffles his grin into his neck, despite how Ace knows this trick intimately. He’s turning in his arms, the hand on his shoulders moving up to grip the back of his collar and slide his fingers down, dragging his shirt with it. Marco hasn’t even unbuttoned past the top button, too focused on Ace in their bed to do anything more than shuck off his suit jacket. His cock has been pressing hard against the zipper of his slacks for an uncomfortable few minutes though, so Marco follows Ace’s instructions and pulls back, instantly earning himself an indignant whine when his weight disappears from Ace’s chest. He leaves Ace with another kiss, this time to the other side of his face before he heaves himself up to sit back on his heels.
Ace’s hands drop from his shoulders to cross over his face and grip the sheets above his head. Taking pity on him, Marco drops the vibrator down into a wavering rhythm at half volume and starts to unbutton his shirt. He doesn’t feel like dropping Ace’s thigh, too satisfied with the weight of it against his waist, so he contents himself with unbuttoning with the hand still holding the remote. If his hand accidentally bumps the settings a few times, then at least Ace is too preoccupied with covering his burning face to do anything other than flinch and pant open-mouthed under his arms. He gets down the line of his buttons without too much fumbling and tugs his shirt free of his slacks to start on his belt. He pats the thigh hooked around his waist in absentminded approval as he finally tugs his slacks down enough to free his dick, giving himself a few strokes as he tilts his head down at Ace.
Marco tracks the sweat on his collarbones, the flush spreading down his shoulders, the stuttered flex of Ace’s abdomen against the rhythm of the vibrator. He thumbs the remote back into its medium setting as he does so. Eventually, Ace gets his breathing under control enough to slide an arm off his face and reach for him. Marco obligingly bends down so Ace can hook his arms around his neck, careful not to catch him with the teeth of his zipper as he settles his weight down again. This time it’s Ace’s turn to hum in approval, despite the slight rasp in his throat from all the involuntary noise he's been making. “Having– ah, having fun up there without me?”
Marco kisses his top lip, then his bottom lip before replying. “Not at all. Missed you too bad.”
Ace laughs in shivery delight. “Uh huh. Missed you too.” He pauses to press a smacking kiss to the corner of Marco’s mouth. “Why do you think I sent you those videos?”
Marco raises an eyebrow, and then the vibrator’s intensity in turn. “Oh, yeah? So it wasn’t just because you wanted me to look like an idiot at eleven o’clock in the morning?”
Ace is actually shivering from the intensity now, but he manages to crack an eye open with an indignant expression. “Ugh, mh– not, my fucking fault! I wasn’t– fuck! ”
Marco grips the now full-intensity-set remote and rolls his hips down firmly into the vee of Ace’s hips, sliding their cocks together under his full weight. “Come on, keep going.”
“I–!” Ace pauses to catch his breath, watching Marco toy the remote lower and pull himself up enough to retrieve the lube next to them in the sheets. He looks away when Marco sets the end of the slim remote between his teeth so he can uncap the lube, trying again with another heaving breath and a firm glare at the nightstand. “It’s not– n-not my fault,” he manages, stuttering when Marco’s now slick hand finds his dick and starts rubbing it against his twitching abdomen. “You were– you’ve been gone all week, what the hell– hell was I supposed to do?” His eyes shutter closed when Marco leans down and presses his own cock to Ace’s, using the lube he just rubbed on Ace to get himself slick. Still, he continues stubbornly. “I had a– ah, fuck– I had a free day and just used my– my time wise–!” His sentence drops off into an unintelligible noise as Marco frees the remote and flicks it up to the highest setting.
Marco sucks a bruise into his throat right over a dark freckle and tosses the remote into the sheets above their heads so he can pin Ace to the mattress and roll his hips down.
“Mmm–Marco, please–”
“Yeah,” Marco pants, right into Ace’s ear. “Yeah, I gotcha. Almost there, c’mon.”
Ace must be leaving lines on his shoulders where his shirt has slipped down from Ace’s insistent hands, but Marco doesn’t let up. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging,” Marco lifts his head just enough to nuzzle into Ace’s hair, “you’ve been so good for me, good boy, almost there.”
Ace whines, high and strangled in his throat. “Don’t– don’t fucking call me–”
“Uh-huh,” Marco says, and rolls his hips down even harder, lifting a hand from the sheets by Ace’s head to hitch his thigh back over his waist where it was falling. “Good boy, c’mon, keep going,” and Marco digs his fingers into Ace’s thigh, enough for him to feel his nails biting into the soft skin.
Ace gives him one last strangled sob before his arms wrap hard around Marco’s shoulders. Marco doesn’t fight his hold, just follows his pull and presses his face into Ace’s neck as he keeps fucking his hips down. He feels more than sees Ace coming in the shaking press of his arms around his shoulders and the little aftershocks that leave Ace’s legs twitching around Marco’s hips. Marco gives him a moment’s rest, and then two, before he reaches up and snaps the remote all the way to off . Still, he doesn’t get up, just lets Ace hang onto him until his hold relaxes enough that Marco can pull up and rub their cheeks together. It’s a testament to Ace’s state of mind that he doesn’t make a comment about the slick slide of sweat. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice gravelly.
Ace gives a little noise of affirmation and slides his limp arms off Marco’s shoulders. Marco takes the opportunity to duck in and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling himself up. He smooths his hands up and down Ace’s thighs while he sits back and catches his breath, taking in the sight of the mess on Ace’s stomach and the stubborn flush across his chest and shoulders. He presses a final kiss to a freckle on Ace’s heaving ribs before pushing himself off the bed on unsteady limbs to free himself from his boxers and ruined slacks. Turning back to the bed, he returns just in time to watch Ace blink teary eyes open. Marco settles back on the bed to face him, and Ace uses a still shaky thigh to nudge him back into position between his legs. He pushes himself to his knees and finally peels off his button down, leaving him in just the white tank top and the thigh that Ace has now returned to his hips. “Want me to take it off?”
Ace hums in lazy consideration. “Mmh, no. Leave it. You look good like this.” He’s more relaxed like this, the real kind of relaxed he usually only gets when he’s with his brothers, or hanging out on the couch with Marco sharing edibles and watching trashy rom-coms. Marco hooks his hand under Ace’s knee and tugs him forward a few inches, enough to hear Ace huff out a surprised laugh. It’s even better to hear his exhausted voice, tired because Marco did that to him. Marco tries not to roll his shoulders in smug satisfaction, if only because Ace knows all his tells.
Instead, he leans forward and draws a firm hand up the mess on Ace’s stomach, still hot and sticky to the touch. Ace spasms at the feeling, gaping at him, but Marco holds tight to his knee and pulls back to inspect his hand. Ace stares at him with wide eyes, the flush that was slowly receding returning with a vengeance. Marco just raises his eyebrows at him and casually strokes himself with his messy palm, watching with buried satisfaction the way that Ace eyes are drawn to his hand like a magnet, despite the clearly mortified look on his face.
Marco huffs to himself, and Ace’s eyes snap up to his face like he was just caught masturbating, instead of watching his boyfriend get himself off in the privacy of their own apartment. Marco shakes his head at Ace’s silent question and uses his clean hand to pry off his smudged glasses, tossing them to Ace who catches them on reflex. “Hand me my spares, would you?” Marco nods towards the nightstand.
Ace swaps the glasses automatically, eyes continuously straying back to where Marco’s hand has stayed steadily pumping his own length. It’s only after Marco has settled his spares onto his nose that Ace snaps his eyes up and asks suspiciously, “Wait, what the hell? Why do you even need them?”
Marco doesn’t bother stopping, just looks at Ace with what he feels is a deserved amount of incredulousness and says, “What the hell else for? I needed to see you.”
Maybe it’s a bit of a dick move to not let Ace digest that, but Marco has been on the edge for the better part of fifteen minutes and if he doesn’t get off soon he can’t guarantee he’ll bother to make Ace those blueberry pancakes he requested in the morning. So when Ace opens his mouth, somehow nonplussed despite over a year of living together and two years of dating, Marco leans forward and captures his lips in a deep kiss, gratified when Ace immediately reaches out to pull his face in. He picks up the pace, pulling back slightly to watch the way Ace licks his lips with lidded eyes and dips back in to kiss him again.
Marco groans into the kiss and leans in further, breaking apart to murmur at him. “Fuck, Ace, look what you did to me, doll–” Ace nips at his mouth for the endearment, but Marco keeps going: “We’ll clean up after this, okay? Just gimme a second, let me see you.” He isn’t above begging.
To his credit, Ace doesn’t immediately bitch at him for the treatment. He lies back against the pillows again, and despite how exhausted he is, he gives Marco’s hips a little squeeze with his legs that makes Marco’s dick twitch in his hand. Ace notices, because of course he does. He does it again, and then he slides a hand up to rub at the side of his glasses as he leans in to whisper in his ear. “Fuck, are you really getting off to this? Just watching me lying here?”
Marco shakes his head and clenches his jaw tight. “Ace, c’mon…”
Ace laughs somewhat incredulously. “Holy shit, yeah, let’s do it.” He bites down on the tip of his tongue and grins up at Marco. “You gonna make a bigger mess of me, huh?”
Marco hangs his head and nods shakily, palming the head of his dick as he lets Ace’s breathless voice wash over him. Ace just keeps going, a giddy edge to his voice. “I wanna see, you gonna show me or what?”
He’s getting dizzy from it, the heat of their position and the feeling of Ace’s legs around his waist. He presses his forehead to Ace’s shoulder, careful not to let his glasses get smudged this time, and breathes in the faint scent of cinnamon. Ace’s hands trail down his jaw to rub at his tense shoulders and he feels a kiss pressed to the side of his face. “Shit,” Marco manages, and pulls off of Ace completely.
Ace doesn't follow him, content with laying across the pillows and giving him a knowing grin and another indulgent squeeze of his legs. “Yeah? You doing good?”
Marco exhales heavily into the air, leaning a bit forward into the press of Ace’s legs so he can get a better look at Marco’s hand, pulling firmly on his cock to let precum spill down his knuckles and drip onto his boyfriend's stomach. “You tell me, huh? Got anything to say for this?” He bucks his hips against Ace’s, just so he can't escape Marco’s meaning.
“Goddammit, Marco, look at you.” Ace is still grinning, but he’s gripping the sheets above his head fiercely, the tendons of his wrist straining with the force. “I did that to you, huh?”
Marco laughs breathily. “Uh-huh. You gonna take some responsibility or what?” He tightens his grip even more, spurred on by Ace pulling him even closer so he can get a better look. The mess on his stomach is even worse, glistening slick and dripping down his sides. His stomach flinches with every hot bead of precum Marco drips onto him.
“Shit, Marco–” And Marco looks up from between them to see Ace biting his lip between sharp canines, “--come on, make a mess of me again, please.”
Marco has never been good at saying no to Ace in any sense. Especially with Ace urging him on and moaning in his ear like Marco is rubbing on him instead. “Mm, please, please–” And fuck, but Ace is begging now.
Marco tightens his grip just a bit more and quickens his pace enough that he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, drowned out only by Ace underneath him.
“Fuck, just hold on, Ace–” and Ace tightens his grip on Marco’s biceps hard enough to leave bruises and he feels himself surrender to his shuddering pace. He shifts enough to brace himself on Ace’s shoulders instead of the bed, pinning him with the force of it and holding him down so Marco can make good on his promise.
Ace’s breath hitches as Marco’s come drips heat down his chest and abs. He’s flushed even worse than he was when Marco was edging him.
“Holy shit,” Ace murmurs again. He reaches down and draws an unsteady finger through the mess, and Marco’s eyes follow his hand like a fixed point. “Look what you did to me, goddammit… ”
Marco groans and has just barely enough wherewithal to collapse on his side instead of bodily onto Ace. “Stop ,” he begs him. “Just stop it, haven't you done enough already?”
Ace laughs at his side and smacks him with the back of his hand, oblivious to Marco reaching for him. He pulls himself to the edge of the bed to remove the vibrator, and from this angle Marco only has a view of his twisted back and the sweat-slick hair on his neck. He can't see what Ace is doing, but he can see his shoulders flinch, can hear Ace mutter, “Fuck…”
Marco throws an arm over his eyes in lieu of asking for another round mere moments after the first. Ace has already gotten what he wanted out of him and Marco is too damn exhausted for his boyfriend’s freckled shoulders to move him. He watches from under his arm as Ace staggers to the bathroom, mourning briefly the passed opportunity for a picture before he washes off. He can hear the faint sound of the sink running and rummaging in the bathroom before the water cuts off and Ace returns to his side, dropping a freshly damp towel onto his chest before tipping back onto the bed beside him. Marco turns enough to press a thank-you kiss into his hair and wipes off with the towel before tossing it into the hamper and nudging Ace with his shoulder. Ace just groans into the sheets.
“Ace.” He groans again, louder this time. “Ace, we aren’t sleeping like this.”
Ace unearths himself from the pillow just enough to speak. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve conveniently forgotten how to speak or move for the next eight hours.”
Marco reaches over to rub an indulgent hand up the line of his spine. “Sure you have. But I guess that means you can’t go get the curry I got you from that place on 7th and Avery.”
Ace’s head pops up immediately. “You got me curry?”
Marco raises his eyebrows at him. “It’s on the counter.”
Ace slides off the bed smoothly and snatches a pair of boxers from the half-open drawer before bounding out of the room. Marco rolls his eyes at his back and pulls on a pair of boxers and sweatpants before grabbing the sheets to load into their already overflowing hamper. He’s dragging the whole thing to the laundry room and passing Ace in the kitchen digging into the plastic bags when Ace speaks up behind him.
“Wait.” His voice is suddenly very quiet, and very serious. “You stopped and got curry when you knew I was at home sexting you?”
Marco starts loading the washer and very deliberately does not turn around. “I was going to be home late. I figured I’d bring you something as thanks for all your hard work keeping me entertained at the clinic.”
Ace’s voice turns incredulous. “Yeah, but you stopped and got curry while I was in our bed sexting you.”
Marco risks a glance over his shoulder. Despite his words, Ace is working slowly but steadily through a generous portion of curry and rice. “Would you rather I have come directly home and not get you food?”
Ace pauses with the spoon still in his mouth. His brow furrows, and Marco watches with amusement and exasperation as Ace seems to debate this moral dilemma in his head. Finally, Ace removes the spoon from his mouth to point it at Marco. “But you ate without me, didn’t you.”
Marco laughs and finishes loading the last of the sheets in the washer. He rises after turning it on and pads into the kitchen to meet Ace where he’s leaning against the counter, wearing only the boxers he grabbed earlier and a disgustingly attractive case of sex hair. He leans in and presses a kiss to Ace’s stubborn expression. Ace makes him wait a second before responding. Marco braces himself against Ace’s hips and kisses him a few moments longer, despite the taste of curry lingering on his tongue. When he pulls back Ace is a bit pink under his freckles, but he’s still stubbornly holding his carton of food and his spoon. Marco leaves him to his food while he props open the fridge and pulls out his own portion. He shows Ace the bag, as if to say ‘see, didn’t I tell you?’.
“I like my curry cold.”
Ace pulls a horrified expression over his spoon. “That’s actually way more unforgivable.”
Marco humors him with a hum and a nod as he reaches around Ace to plate his food and put it in the microwave. He ducks in to kiss Ace’s ear with an obnoxious smooch while he waits. “Kidding. It just tastes better reheated.”
Ace sets his empty carton of food aside to tuck his hands into Marco’s pockets and tug him into another kiss. He grins at the noise it makes when he pulls back. “Do you work tomorrow?” He gives Marco’s pockets a little tug where his hands are tucked and Marco obediently sways with the motion.
“No,” Marco responds, busying himself with nudging Ace’s head out of the way so he can retrieve his food from the microwave. “Just a few calls to make, but that’s about all.”
Ace’s eyes track his steaming food between them, and Marco is somewhat cautious about eating in front of him like this, but he still hasn’t removed his hands from Marco’s pants pockets and Marco’s not going to be the one to make him stop. “Yeah, I…” He tears his eyes away from Marco’s food to look up at him. “I called the repair guy for the heater earlier, he said he can come Monday morning by ten at the earliest.”
“Shit, really?” Marco takes a bite of his food despite how hot it is. He needs to stake a claim on it before Ace thinks he can beg for some, despite knowing that saliva has never been a deterrent for Ace when it comes to Marco’s food. And Marco in general.
Ace nods, tilting his head up at the ceiling as he recalls the conversation. Marco takes the opportunity to take a few more bites before he looks down again. “Yeah, but it’s not that bad, I guess. We’ve got extra sheets in the hall closet and that weighted blanket Izou left behind.”
Marco pauses eating to scoff. “Says the local furnace. While you sweat over here in negative temperatures, I’m going to be losing toes.”
Ace ducks his head away so he doesn’t laugh right in Marco’s face. Marco stares at the stretch of starry skin on his neck and seriously considers a round two. He shakes his head at himself and goes back to his food as Ace starts to sway in thought.
“Okay, well,” Ace says, nodding his head as though Marco’s already agreed, “We could always stay over at Thatch’s place for a few days. I know you didn’t mean to spend the weekend at his, but it is actually supposed to get into the negatives pretty soon.”
Marco groans and sets his half-finished plate to the side. Ace steals a stalk of broccoli without looking away from him. “How about,” Marco starts, “we go on that vacation to Sabaody that we were thinking last month.” He slides a hand around Ace’s hip to rest it on the small of his back, just in case it helps him make his point.
Ace raises a sardonic eyebrow at him. No such luck. “You were the one that said you couldn’t get off work for that long.”
“I lied,” Marco lies. “I can take a week off to fly down. Hell, we can take a ship, I’ve got time.”
“Uh-huh.” Ace leans into Marco’s hold, clearly humoring him. “Tell you what. You call around tomorrow while I’m at work and pack us bags for our weekend at Thatch’s place. If you can get someone to come here and fix it before Saturday night, I’ll let you take me out to that fancy place on the water you’ve been talking about for like five months now.”
Marco pulls back to give Ace a look. “Ace, don’t fuck with me. You mean it?”
“Well…” Ace makes a show of thinking about it. “Izou did just take me out to get a new suit. And I think it’s been long enough since our last fancy restaurant that I’m pretty sure I won’t break out into hives.”
“Remains to be seen,” Marco says, just to fuck with him. “But seriously, does it always have to be pulling teeth when I try to take you out somewhere nice?”
“Are you kidding? You wouldn’t be with me if I didn’t make your life hard.” Ace’s expression lights up.
“Don’t –” Marco can already see where this is going.
“But I’m really good at making it hard for you.”
Marco glares down at Ace. “Five out of ten.”
“Damn,” Ace mutters. “Do I get points for sucking you off?”
“You haven’t sucked me off tonight,” Marco notes. “Or did you just mean in general?”
Ace is flashing him those sharp canines again. “Well, I did mean just in general but… that’s a good idea. What do you say about a round two?”
Marco looks from the food on the counter, to the laundry running behind him, to the open door of their bedroom. Ace slides his hands up Marco’s chest as he inspects their apartment. “I’m not going through another set of sheets tonight.”
“I never said you had to.” Ace pushes away from the counter, sneaking another sprig of broccoli as he does so. “Come fuck me on the couch and make it up to me for being gone so long.”
Marco grabs his plate again, because like hell is he going to let Ace distract him from finishing his meal. He still follows Ace to the couch though, because he’s hungry, not stupid. “At least let me finish my food first.” Ace gives him a hopeful glance over the back of the couch. “And no, you’re not helping me.”
Ace laughs. “Not even if I wear that other little number Izou helped me pick out?”
Marco pauses in sitting down, then robotically finishes the motion and puts his plate on the coffee table so he can turn his full attention to his boyfriend. “What other number?”
Ace grins at him. “You wanna see?”
“Ace, I swear to god I’ll give you my firstborn if you just go get it now.”
Ace laughs again and clambers off the couch with too much grace for a man who spent half the day fucking himself. Marco spares another glance at his plate as Ace leaves before giving it up.
Gerd was right, he has a boyfriend to enjoy.