Chapter notes:

Thank you to the wonderful and talented lunarshores for all her help in making this short thing presentable! Also I'm sorry you had to wait 2 years before I edit and post this.

Ace believed that being on the Moby Dick, the ship of the strongest man in the world, was the best thing that had ever happened to him, even if the events that led him to it left something to be desired. He found the peace and contentment slightly different from what he'd had with Sabo and Luffy. yet still pleasant. Being here made him feel happier and more alive than ever.

Even after more than a hundred attempts on Whitebeard's life, his pops never looked at him differently and had accepted Ace as his son; with son being the last word the eighteen-year-old ever expected anyone to call him—Ace thought he would resent anyone who dared call him that but had found himself succumbing to his yearning for a parental figure. The number of brothers and even sisters he had grew tenfold, even hundredfold as more pirate crews swore their allegiance and became part of their abnormally large family. Portgas D. Ace had never been surrounded by as large a company he liked and liked him back more than he was on Whitebeard's ship.

It was very easy to forget his demons when he was around the Whitebeard Pirates. The bouts of insecurity and apprehension occurred less frequently. Ace began to smile and laugh more. He was truly and completely having fun.

His new hobby was pulling pranks on the crew members, along with Division Commanders Thatch and Haruta. Old age or not, Thatch enjoyed mischief as much as a five-year-old. Haruta was young to begin with, not much older than Ace—which was a shock for him; he always thought Haruta was eighteen or younger—and believed that everyone in the ship deserved to loosen up from time to time.

And so, they were dubbed by the crew as the most-dreaded-and-must-be-avoided-at-all-cost trio.

Many of the new recruits were disgruntled at how their fellow newbie Ace fit in with the crew—more importantly, the commanders. But they also couldn't deny how skilled Ace was in the battlefield. He had so much potential. Heck, they even knew Ace had been offered a position as a Shichibukai.

There were times when the trio stepped out of line. It was ironic how often they acted worse than five-year-olds, especially when the whole crew was widely considered as fearsome pirates. Usually, it was the rest of their brothers. They played childish pranks that led to gruesome arguments, sometimes fights. Other times, it was the commanders. The trio had guts to make fun of the commanders since two of them were from the same rank.

Thatch, Haruta, and Ace picked on each and every one of the commanders. Rakuyo woke up one morning with straight hair. Vista found his top hat in the ship's garbage area. Izou spent one week with his identity being questioned by countless people because of his lack of make-up. It was hell for them. Especially for the First Division Commander, Marco the Phoenix.

It was no secret to everyone that Marco was the busiest person in the ship. Apart from being a commander, he was also the first mate and the navigator. Because of that, the trio had a lot of ideas on how they could make things more fun for the boring pirate. It usually involved paperwork. Missing pages from time to time, doodles, or worse, all of the papers in Marco's desk were gone from sight. The latter was never repeated as those were actually his navigator papers, and the crew had spent days meandering meaninglessly into the ocean before Marco had whipped something up and saved all their asses from starvation.

For Marco, it was the worst, and the blond man was probably thinking the perpetrators were having fun at his misery.

Yet, he was wrong. Well, half wrong.

Ace was actually feeling guilty. Very, very guilty.

Before stepping aboard Whitebeard's ship, Ace had come to terms about his … sexual preference. He did not know if it was related to his past, but he'd found that he couldn't stomach being with a woman. He was, for lack of a better word, afraid of what his actions might result into. He didn't want to make the same mistake as his father did. Soon, he realized that he felt the same attraction towards guys. He accepted it since he saw nothing wrong with it and he was just a simple human living without regrets. A teenage human with raging hormones, he might add.

Men were said to be very visual creatures, and Ace had to agree. His attraction towards the First Division Commander could no less be described as "love at first sight." Ace liked guys taller than him with defined muscles but not too much. The way Marco's purple shirt was open, revealing his tattoo and impressive pectorals and abdomen, was enough to make Ace catch his breath the first time he laid eyes on him. Marco's hair was no weirder than most Ace had seen in the Grand Line but it was just as unique, and he was dying to run his hands through it. His eyes were funny, but Ace loved how keen he could be even if they were half-opened.

Marco was unique in the way that he pulled in Ace like no one ever had. Ace didn't even know that he was into older men, but after realizing his feelings for Marco, he decided he quite liked it. Marco was his known and hidden preferences combined.

He didn't even know why he hadn't stopped Thatch and Haruta when they had moved their target to Marco. He had hesitated because for once, he chose not to listen to his hormones and thought about the weight of his actions. Marco, along with everyone on the Moby Dick, was family. He felt that he would hurt Whitebeard if he made a move. Even though Ace hated to admit it, it was … wrong in so many levels. Heck, he didn't even know if Marco was into men.

It was starting to eat him up. Ace felt like he would explode. To minimize his frustration, he started avoiding Marco. He knew it was an useless attempt and might even get Marco's attention, which was a bad thing; Marco should stay away from him.

Things turned for the worse when he started having nightmares. They all revolved around the implications of his attraction. It varied every night but the gist was something like this….

Whitebeard all but trembled with rage. "How could you? Your own brother?! I do not tolerate this blasphemy on my ship!"

Ace shrank back from his father's rage, desperation welling up to choke him as he said, "L-let me explain, Pops!"

Whitebeard stared at him coldly. "Don't call me Pops, brat! You lost that right the moment you lusted after Marco!"

Ace stood up and stared Whitebeard in the eyes. "But I love him!"

Marco stepped forward, his uncaring eyes mocking Ace's declaration. "Your feelings are misdirected, Ace."

A knife shot through Ace's heart. "No! Not you, too, Marco."

Whitebeard looked at him, anger and betrayal mixing in his eyes. "Leave now and never return again!"

For Ace, it was the equivalent of the world ending. He would always wake up flailing in bed, covered in cold sweat and shivering uncontrollably. True, he tended to dramatize a lot of things, like how Izou would violently throw his precious heels at Ace while Haruta and the other females glared at him in disgust.

Come to think of it, his nightmares were oddly similar to the reaction of that soap opera or whatever drama it was he and his sworn brothers had seen back in the East Blue. About something Carmen.

Still, the fact that it encompassed his every fear remained. What if Whitebeard did lose his temper and kick him out of the crew? What if Marco rejected him in his own emotionless way? To Ace, Marco's way of rejection would feel a lot more painful than a flashy scene.

These thoughts and nightmares haunted him for weeks before he finally decided to throw caution to the wind. Ace couldn't live like this! He had made a promise with Luffy to live without regrets. When he remembered that, he knew that by continuing to hide and evade the inevitable, he was compromising that promise.

That realization shook Ace to the core. For a few hours, he weighed his options until he came to a decision. This family chose him and vice versa. It would be silly if he didn't put at least a small amount of trust to the man he considered his father. After all, Whitebeard had accepted him regardless of his heritage.

And so, Ace found himself standing at Whitebeard's door. He took a deep breath to steel himself. He'd tried this so many times that he grew tired of running away. Without hesitation, he knocked on the wood. He heard footsteps before someone opened the door.

Well, this was just perfect.

Marco was the one who had opened the door. He was probably there to talk about supplies or some other important matter. Oh, why didn't Ace consider this scenario sooner?

"Ace," Marco greeted with his usual half-lidded look. "What is it?"

Ace couldn't help but stare. He couldn't help it. He had been avoiding Marco for a month now, and it was the first time he had dared to stare fully at the First Division Commander. He completely forgot the reason why he was … where he was. Yes, he had forgotten.

"Ace?" Marco repeated, and Ace thought he could hear the faintest trace of worry lacing the older man's voice. Ace forced the feeling of giddiness from resurfacing but failed. "You okay? Your face is all red. Are you sick?"

Stupid turkey's making things more difficult! Ace thought despairingly, his breath catching as Marco proceeded to place his palm over the teen's forehead. Marco's hand was warm, yet it sent tingles down Ace's spine, as clichéd as that sounded.

Out of reflex, Ace slapped Marco's hand away. He couldn't look up from his staredown with the wooden floor of Pops' room—oh, so that's where I am!—but Ace bet his face was still red from enthusiasm and embarrassment.

"I-I'm okay." Oh, I just had to stutter. Ace was very tempted to burst into flames so he would have an excuse to leave without further explanation. "I, erm, like to speak with Pops."

Whitebeard finally made his presence known by laughing. "Gurarara. Why didn't you say so earlier, son? Come on in."

Hearing Whitebeard call him son made Ace feel worse. Like he needed to be reminded of how impossible his feelings were. He started rethinking his decision.

Marco suddenly spoke, startling Ace out of his reverie. "I'm going now, Pops." He gave Ace a small smile before walking past him and left the vicinity.

"Well?" Whitebeard said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Are you just going to stand there and stare at Marco's back all day?"

Ace's head snapped to Whitebeard's grinning face before quickly closing the door to ward off any unwanted eavesdroppers. The blood drained from his face. He was so stunned that he didn't even know what his face looked like as he stared at his father and kept himself glued to the door in case Whitebeard generated his earthquakes. Like I can escape from that. "Wha-what are you talking about?"

Whitebeard's wide grin that almost matched his humongous mustache toned down to a knowing smile; a smile that did not bode well with Ace. "Everyone knows, son. You're not hiding it very well."

Ace could feel heat rise once again to his cheeks. Well, among all things, this was not what he expected. But he wanted to confirm it by hearing the words from his pops. "You mean, you know that.…"

"That you have feelings for your brother, Marco, yes." Whitebeard took a swig of sake from his huge sakazuki cup. Ace winced at the phrasing.

After a moment's hesitation, he asked, "And what's your say about it?"

"I'm not throwing you off the ship, if that's what you're asking." The old man laughed heartily. Well, that's one fear down, Ace thought but still bit his lip in he remained tense, Whitebeard quieted down and motioned for Ace to come over.

Not seeing his father seething or doing anything that suggested his worst fears made Ace oblige the request. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Whitebeard to speak.

"It is only logical for the captain to understand his crew and their needs. What's more, a father to his children. Yet he cannot speak for his child," was what he said.

Ace blinked and wondered if he heard that right or if his pops was replaced by some ancient sage. All he could say was a confused "what?"

Whitebeard sighed deeply. "Ace, if you're here to ask me if I disapproved, I don't."

"You don't?" he asked. Just to be sure.

"Don't make me repeat myself, brat." Whitebeard grinned. Ace returned it gratefully.

After a beat of silence where Ace bathed in relief, he asked, "Not that I don't like it—just curious, Pops. Why is it okay for you when you treat us like your sons?"

"Hmm." Newgate placed his cup on the nightstand and sat back on the headboard to think. "I think you misunderstand a little. I call you and consider you all my sons and daughters because I want to protect and guide children of the sea. And I'll share something with you, Ace." Whitebeard leaned a little towards Ace and lowered his voice. "I also grew up without my biological family. I didn't mind, until I became a pirate. The treasure, the adventure … they were things I found I couldn't appreciate without … a family. Before I knew it, I had all of you youngsters sailing with me, calling me your pops. I couldn't be happier." Whitebeard grinned proudly.

Ace was stunned. To hear his captain, his father, share a piece of his past was beyond astounding. "Wow. But you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't? Gurarara. What I'm trying to say; it is all how you look at things," Whitebeard said mysteriously.

"Huh?" Ace was feeling more stupid by the minute.

"I call you all my children, but I don't expect you to always treat each other as siblings. There are times when falling out happens; it's inevitable. And then, there is your case. You're not the first to approach me with this predicament, Ace."

"R-really?"

"That's right. Now the problem lies in you telling Marco. I trust you can do it. You're not stupid. Sometimes." Whitebeard laughed again.

"Pops, please!"

"But in all fairness, the same applies to Marco. Yet no one knows what will happen. You two can end up as massive messes at the slightest misunderstanding. As they say, fools and scissors require good handling. Yet fools rush in where wise men fear to tread."

"Riiight…. but why aren't you worried about Marco's reaction? I don't even know if he liked guys in the first place!"

He clucked his tongue. "Doubt may be the key to knowledge, but when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." At Ace's deadpan expression, he clarified, "Use your senses, son. The facts are glaring at you in the face. I suggest you leave my room and make plans."

"Okaaay." Though it came out like a question. Ace hopped off the bed and left with a good night to Whitebeard.

Well, that certainly wasn't what Ace was expecting. He never thought his pops could be so cryptic with advices. I think I'm starting to have a headache, he thought. I should sleep this off and just worry about the rest tomorrow.

But then, his stomach gave an impressive growl and he deviated to the mess hall.

"Ace!"

Ace turned and saw Thatch, Rakuyo, and some other people from their divisions crowding around a table.

"We have your midnight snack, kid." Thatch smirked. As soon as the words left his mouth, Ace rushed to where they were.

"Sweet! Thanks, Thatch!" Ace said happily, wasting no time shoving food in his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah." They observed Ace make the large pile of food disappear into the black hole known as his mouth. "Geez, how can you eat this much?"

"Heh, there's nothing wrong 'bout that," Rakuyo assured him. "Kid just wanna eat as if he's kicking the bucket any time."

"Hmh?" Ace mumbled with his mouth full.

"Swallow before you talk, idiot, before you do kick the bucket." Thatch snorted.

Rakuyo sighed. "Talkin' about kicking the bucket makes me think of my own death."

"Oi, oi, don't speak like that, Commander!" a member of his division said.

"What? You idiots shoulda accept we might drop like flies anytime cos of what we are. Being protected by Pops doesn't mean we'll live forever, ya know."

Thatch shook his head. "You're being negative again, my friend. Instead of dreading your death, why don't you think of what you can do while you're alive and kicking?"

Ace, who was listening in, gulped down the food and spoke up, "Yeah, we must live without regrets!" Marco and his conversation with Whitebeard came to mind, making him smile.

"See? Ace is so optimistic!" Thatch grinned and slung an arm around the Ace's shoulders.

Rakuyo chuckled. "Right. Oh, I know! Why don't we make a list of what we wanna happen before we kick the bucket? To take away me negativity! Let's call it … hmm … the bucket list! Whadda ya say, lads?" He grinned.

"Ooh, I like it." Thatch grinned back.

"I'm in!" Ace said excitedly. The idea enticed him. A list of things he wanted to do…. Oh, boy was he itching!

"All right. Let's toast to that." Thatch began handing out mugs of beer and together with a happy cheer to "without regrets" they drank.

Ace wasn't used to alcohol and tried to keep from making a face as he downed his drink in one go.

"Oh, I have one!" someone from Thatch's division said. "I wanna eat a Devil Fruit before I die."

"Ah!" Thatch shouted. "That's a good one. A bit hard but, eh, you might get lucky. Like Acey here!"

Ace nodded drunkenly at that, raising his empty mug in support to his brother.

"Drunk already?" Rakuyo snickered. "What a lightweight. All right, Ace, what's on your bucket list? Do you have one?"

"I do," the teen slurred.

"Let's hear it!" Thatch cheered.

Ace knew he was going to regret drinking that beer. Heck, he was going to regret going to the galley.

Ace gave his companions a wide grin before announcing.

"Make Marco the Phoenix mine!"

Ace came to awareness by something poking his cheek. The sharp twinge in his head was also hard to miss. Without opening his eyes, he frowned and turned to his side, groaning softly. "Go away."

"Oh, no, I won't," came an unexpected, familiar indignant voice.

Ace's eyes snapped open, and his head turned to the direction of the sound. "Izou?! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.

Izou—Commander Izou, Ace corrected but looking at him he thought, eh whatever—smirked at him and was looking very comfortable sitting at the edge of Ace's bed with crossed legs. Ace started when he noticed the mischievous glint in the Izou's eyes. "You're gonna wake the others if you don't keep your voice down, lover boy," he whispered.

Ace furrowed his eyebrows before noticing that it was the dead of the night and all of his bunk mates were fast asleep. What the hell was Izou doing here anyway? Ace was dying to sleep some more. Hopefully, to get rid of the nasty headache souring his mood by the minute. "What are you doing here?" he repeated in a hushed voice.

Izou's eyes were wide and filled with amusement. "You mean you don't remember?" He laughed lightly. "You really are the worst at drinking."

Drinking? Ace strained his mind to remember anything and came up with nothing. However, the situation was oddly familiar and he sat up with wide eyes, ignoring his painful head. "Fuck, did anything happen between us?!" he almost shouted. This was not good! What would Marco think of him now? And just as he had gotten Whitebeard's consent!

Izou burst into laughter, forgetting that there were people sleeping in the room. Some began to stir, much to Ace's panic. "NO! Don't get me wrong, Ace. You're very hot and handsome, but I only love you as a brother." He grinned, and Ace sighed in relief. "Besides," Izou continued in a hushed voice, leaning closer to Ace, "you've got your eyes on Marco, right?"

Again, Ace's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "How did you know?" This was also vaguely familiar, and Ace was sure it involved Whitebeard. Yet his mind did not want to cooperate. He slapped a hand to his forehead and gritted his teeth.

"Hey, now. Don't be so—"

"What's going on?" a sleepy voice interrupted. One of their brothers opened the lights and stared at the Sixteenth Division Commander hanging from the edge of Ace's bed. "Commander Izou? What's wrong?"

"Oh, relax, guys. Ace and I are just having a little chat. Sorry to trouble you." Izo turned back to Ace. "Let's talk in my room. I told you to keep quiet."

"You're the one who woke them up! Not me!"

Once they'd moved to Izou's room, Ace heard the full details of how Izou found out. Needless to say, he wasn't very impressed. Scratch that, the pain in his mind numbed anything until he felt nothing but an empty shell.

"So I blabbed my love trouble to you, Thatch, and the Fifth Division?" he asked in a calm tone. His fingers twitched towards his knife, considering his samurai friends' harakiri for the first time in his life. He was so aghast that he couldn't find it in him to sound so scandalized. "I'm so screwed."

Izou, who was sitting on his bed with his arms propped from behind, smirked again. "No, you want Marco screwing you," he said loudly and smugly.

"Izou!" Finally, emotions flooded back into his senses. A blush quickly colored his freckled cheeks.

Ace stood up and opened the door of Izou's room, poking only his head out and surveying the hallway for eavesdroppers. If he couldn't shut up when drunk, then maybe he should be more careful when he was awake. Once satisfied, Ace shut the door quietly and glared at a very amused Izou. "Shut up! Stop smiling."

"What? I didn't do anything wrong." He crossed his arms but continued to grin at Ace. "I'm not the lightweight who spilled his darkest secret here."

At the reminder, Ace groaned. "I'm starting to hate you." Maybe Izou wouldn't mind getting a little burned? He was dying to use his hiken at the moment.

Izou had the guts to laugh, making Ace think that maybe the crossdresser didn't value his life. "Don't hate the person who's about to help you."

"About to what?" He said what?

"Do I have to spell everything out?" Izou rolled his eyes. "Okay! I can't believe I have idiots for brothers. I will do my best to help you make Marco yours, Ace."

For a minute, Ace thought Izou was joking, but that serious face splashed with heavy make-up didn't look like he was joking. "Seriously?" Maybe Izou was an angel, heaven-sent, after all.

"Yes, of course." Izou was practically glowing that Ace would accept his help. "I know a few things about Marco, as unbelievable as th—"

"But wait," Ace cut him off, gnawing his bottom lip. "Oh no. What if Marco already heard from Thatch or Rakuyo or the others? Won't this be useless then?"

But Izou wasn't fazed in the slightest. In fact, he was tutting. "Ace, Ace, Ace. You don't have to worry about those things. I already took care of it."

"What do you mean?" What did Izou do?

"I instructed everyone who heard your confession not to tell a soul," he told him, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Huh? And they agreed? Just like that? What if they slip up?"

Goosebumps erupted on his skin from the creepy laugh and look Izou gave him. Ace knew this expression, even though he was just new. It was the one reeking of evilness—as Thatch had not-so-eloquently described out loud to him a few weeks ago. "Oh, they won't tell, Ace. They really won't. After all, their balls are on the line if they don't follow my instructions."

See, Ace was right. Izou was the meanest crossdresser pirate to have sailed the seas. But luckily, this meant he was on his side. Right? Right? "Right," he said slowly. "Okay. Well, first things first. I have a question." Ace was really, really dying to know the answer to this, and the anticipation of getting a definite answer had his blood boiling in excitement.

"Go ahead." Izou nodded encouragingly.

"Does Marco … like guys?"

Izo's excited face fell. "Oh."

"Oh?"

What did oh that mean? And what was with that face? Did it mean Marco was as straight as the sides of a square? Noooooo—

"Don't look so panicked. Geez." Izou rolled his eyes. "It's just that I'm not so sure of the answer to that question as well," he said slowly, and Ace could feel that there was something more to it than that.

"And?" he prodded.

Izou sighed. "Ever since I got here, Marco never showed interest in anyone. Not even to a bird!" At Ace's wide eyes, he clarified, "I mean, he's a phoenix, right? So we thought he liked birds. But no, he didn't do anything—that we know anyway. There's a betting pool around about whether he's asexual or not."

"Hah?!" Oh, no. If Marco didn't like anybody, chances of the Ace-making-Marco-his-plan would not be slim to none, but just none!

"We were bored," Izou explained, facing the opposite direction so he failed to notice Ace's now pale face. "Haruta suggested it a few months back. But you don't have to worry because, like I said, I am only not so sure."

"This better be good, Izou."

Izou turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "Never doubt me, Ace. If there's one thing you shouldn't forget on Pops' ship, it's that."

Ace sighed and decided to resign to his fate. It's not like I have a choice when Izou's involved anyway. "Okay? So what is it?"

"Hm, first you gotta pay up," Izo said smugly, crossing his arms.

He knew this was too good to be true. "Really? Pay you with what?"

Izou glared. "The make-up you and those two knuckleheads threw overboard. Don't you know how expensive those lovelies are? And they were from the West Blue!"

"Okay, okay! I'll pay you for your make-up. Just tell me what you know."

It took Izou a moment to answer. "All right. I think Marco likes guys."

Ace let that sink for a moment before saying slowly, "You think?"

Giving him another scary glare, Izou tutted again and said, "There's nothing in my knowledge that says Marco isn't open to homosexual relationships. Plus, I think I saw him near a male strip club that one time we docked on the islands near the Calm Belt."

M-male strip club?! Ace forced himself to gulp. "A-again with the 'I think'?" he managed.

"What's with you and hedging?" Izou asked incredulously. "I just wanted to play safe, is all. Now, I'm telling you"—He leaned forward and pointed to Ace's chest—"you have a chance with Marco," Izou said, a jab to Ace's chest on each word to stress his point.

Ace's heart jumped out of its chest before galloping at a mile per second. "R-really?"

Izou lifted his hand and pointed at his own eyes. "You see these mascara-ed eyes? They're trained to see through people, Ace. Very trained," he said in a deadly quiet voice.

"If they're trained, why are you only 'not so sure'? And why didn't you see through my feelings?" Ace asked, confused.

"Because!" Izou pulled back and threw his hands up. "I don't want to get ahead of the people I read. I keep the information to myself, you know. You don't know how many people are fucking each other on this ship and pretending not to be doing just that."

Ace's eyes just got wider than saucers. "R-really?"

Izou nodded, all solemn. "Uh-huh. So, my dear brother, I answered your question. Let me ask you mine."

"Um, okay?" Ace answered uncertainly. He just wished it wasn't an embarrassing one.

Izou looked at him seriously, all humor leaving his face. Uh-oh. Izou never looked like that. Ace grew even more nervous and his shoulders had gone stiff.

"Just how much do you like Marco?" Izou asked with one brow raised in a silent challenge.

Ace gave a sigh of relief before breaking into a grin. "I thought you were about to say something bad!" At Izou's expecting look, Ace continued, "I know it sounds weird coming from me, but I really like Marco. He's—I don't know—different. I can't put it in words, but he makes me want to kiss him and rile him up at the same time."

Ace hadn't expected that answer, but as the words just flew out of his mouth, he realized they were not far from the truth after all. His attraction to Marco was not purely physical. It had come to a point where his immature side decided to come out. He wanted to be reckless around Marco, which thoroughly confused him.

Izou burst out laughing. "Wow. This might be the first time I heard of this kind of affection towards Marco. Okay, you've convinced me. Not that I didn't believe you at first. Now, are you willing to agree to my plan?"

Now Ace was eyeing Izo suspiciously. "What plan?"

"Not that I don't trust you, Ace, but I've been with Marco longer, and I consider him like my real brother now. For someone as… busy as him, he probably won't have the time to commit to a serious relationship—that is, unless he really, really likes you, too. And so you will not just confess to him, Ace!"

Ace had to agree that Marco seemed to be the hard-to-get type. He let that sink for half a minute, but he just didn't get what Izo was implying. "Huh? Why?"

Izo had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? Confessions are for girls, and you're definitely not a girl! If you really liked Marco like you said, you'd want to make him happy and like you, which is probably what everyone else will feel if they're experiencing unrequited love, you know. So I want you to do things differently. I want you to show Marco that you can be liked, and soon he'll reciprocate your feelings." Izou's smile faltered as his face took a contemplative look. "If not, then at least you've tried your best." He shrugged.

Wow, Ace didn't know Izou had it in him. He had a point, though. Isn't it better than just confessing and hoping he'll return my feelings? Ace was really bad at pursuing. If he wanted a chance with Marco, he needed outside help.

"Okay, I agree."

Izou squealed and hugged Ace tightly in his glee, making Ace laugh. The grin on Ace's face faltered when he realized something, though. "You're not….going to make me do weird things, right? I still want Marco to like me, not some construct of me."

Izou pulled back to look Ace in the eye, one brow lifted. "My speech was the most beautiful thing in the world—apart from my beauty—and you still don't trust me? You wound me, Ace." Izou looked like someone killed his precious puppy.

Oh, hell. Of all things, getting into Izo's bad side was something he didn't like to happen. "Well, it's just that—I heard Thatch say you meddle too much and—" Ace started nervously.

"Thatch said what?!" Ace's eyes widened when he realized his slip, and Izou raised his hands in surrender. "Nevermind. Contrary to popular belief, Ace, I don't meddle too much," Izou said, using air quotes. "I have my brothers' best interests at heart—I protect them; I trust them; I love them…. All because I know they have my back. Simply put, I won't do anything that will make you uncomfortable since I know you'll do the same."

"But I threw away your make-up!"

"Riiiight. Let me rephrase that. I am ready to overlook the error of your ways because we are family!" Izou laughed humorlessly before squeezing his eyes shut, as if to suppress a bad memory. Ace wouldn't object to the idea that it was a bad memory, involving him, Thatch, and Haruta chucking his make-up into the sea. His guess was proven correct when Izou suddenly shouted, "God, you need to replace my make-up, Portgas D. Ace!"

"Okay, okay! I will, alright!"

Izou gave an irritated huff before taking a deep breath to possibly calm down. "Okay. Now that we've settled things, go back to sleep. We'll begin making Marco yours tomorrow."

Ace flinched, and the headache from when he woke up came back full force, making him wonder if that was a premonition of Izou's plan.

After Izou let Ace off the hook for the rest of the night, he gave a warning about an upcoming surge of enthusiasm from him in the morning—Ace's hunch was true after all. Needless to say, Ace was unimpressed but couldn't help feeling a little thankful for the help.

Once he was done with breakfast, Izou pulled him to the Sixteenth Division Commander's room so they could talk about the plan.

"Whatcha got, Izou?"

Izou took one look at his nails then at Ace, his face thoughtful. "You should seduce Marco."

"What the hell?!" Ace exclaimed in shock. And here he thought Izou had something creative—and decent—up his sleeve.

"What?" Izou asked with wide, innocent eyes, like he did not just say something weird. "Seduction works, like, ninety percent of the time."

He has lost his mind. There's no other explanation. "I don't think that's a good idea," Ace said with a nervous chuckle.

"And why not?" A glint appeared in Izou's eyes. "It'll be fun!"

"Fun for you maybe," Ace said. "Plus I don't know the first thing about seducing someone!"

"That's your problem?" Izou rolled his eyes. "Leave it to me, Ace. I know exactly what you need to do."

Judging from the evil glint that still remained in Izo's eyes, this wouldn't be pleasant. Just how many premonitions would he have involving the unstoppable Izou?

The weather was perfect today—by perfect, Ace meant they were not trapped in the middle of a hurricane or a storm—or both. The clouds opened up to let the sun filter its rays upon the gloomy seas, making Ace think if they were nearing a summer island or something.

Today was too sunny. Of course, weather in the New World was always too much, and this day was no different.

Ace grabbed his bottle and gulped down water to ease his thirst and his nerves. It was too hot for this! He didn't know how Izou managed to convince him. It was like the commander had the power to make everyone follow his orders without fail.

The man made sense, though. Izou said this was his chance, if he wanted a shot at making Marco his. Ace was all for it, if what he was about to do wasn't plain stupid.

Izou had hit him in the head when he had said that out loud.

Anyways, it was pretty simple. He just had to follow what Izou had said, and he would be fine. Remember, you want Marco to like you, so be likeable—ah, not that you have to, because you already are~! was Izou's last message to him before sending him up here to this very hot deck.

Because it was—as Ace had complained many times—very hot, everyone was staying indoors, except for the person assigned on watch duty, which unfortunately happened to be Marco. He was sitting down, leaning against one of the masts under the shaded area provided by the giant crow's nest from the adjacent mast and their large sails. His eyes were closed, and if Ace didn't know any better, he'd think Marco had fallen asleep.

Ace took a deep breath, feeling more beads of sweat slide down his face and body, before going to where Marco was. "You okay?" he asked in his oh-it's-just-another-day voice.

Marco opened one eye to meet Ace's stare. "Yeah."

"Here." Ace offered the extra bottle of water he had, and Marco took it with a small smile. Now, Ace was blaming the weather for his suddenly inappropriate thoughts, but that smile was too damn sexy.

"Thanks." Marco uncapped his bottle and lifted it to his lips. Ace's throat suddenly became too dry, and he was not blaming the weather this time.

To get rid the sudden energy he had in him, Ace sighed loudly. "Why is it so hot today? I mean, it was raining hard just yesterday! I just don't get it."

Marco chuckled. "Don't tell me you're not used to it?"

Ace thought about it for a moment then he smirked. "Touché."

The silence after his statement stretched out for a few more seconds, until uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Oh, shit, he ran out of things to say. Should he do it now? Well, it was hot. Maybe he should?

After few more moments of hesitation, he lost his internal battle and not-so-casually removed his open button shirt. Ace sighed again to add some more effect, trying hard not to show his embarrassment. "It's really hot!"

When he sneaked a glance down at Marco, he had missed the look Marco sent him. Now, Ace saw that Marco was still drinking, and he felt disappointed at the lack of attention. Well, this plan didn't work. Operation "Strip-Your-Shirt" was a failure.

Marco looked up after and said, "That's a nice idea."

Then he did something that got Ace's mouth hanging wide open. He stripped off his shirt too.

Sweet mother of—why did Ace agree to this? He was not prepared for it! Having no ounce left of conscience at all, his eyes couldn't help but follow the patches of skin slowly getting exposed. The sinews, all taut, were begging to be touched, taunting him. Well, fuck him, but Marco looked really good shirtless.

No, wait! Ace gulped and cleared his throat, trying to clear his head even though his eyes were still glued to that glorious sight. Was Ace trying to kill himself? This was supposed to be him trying to seduce Marco, not the other way around!

A sudden burst of inspiration came to him, and he laughed weakly, making Marco eye him curiously. "Oh, uh, it's a bummer we can't swim, you know." And then he lifted his bottle and splashed the water on his head, the rivulets of water making its way down his face and bare chest. He shook his head a little and ran his hand along his hair. Ace basked in the coolness of the water, but just hoped he didn't look too silly. "I'll feel more relieved."

Marco chuckled, and Ace tried not to get disappointed when all he saw was amusement dancing in Marco's eyes. "You're awfully whiny today."

"Hey I'm not!" Even though he really was. Probably. But before Ace could argue further, Marco did another mouth gaping thing again. He mimicked Ace and poured the water over his head.

"But your ideas are pretty effective." Marco grinned, and the blood traveled to Ace's face faster than he expected, coloring his cheeks. Was it the heat or his embarrassment? Whatever it was, things were not looking good—for him—and he needed to escape before he could embarrass himself even further.

"Uh, oh! I just remembered Thatch wants my help with something," Ace lied weakly. "Later, Marco!"

Then he dashed away from the deck without waiting for Marco's reply. Once he was gone from Marco's sight, he buried his face in his hands and groaned out loud.

What had just happened?

Chapter notes:

Yup, that's all. I had some scenes written in order of inspiration so I could only post this first bit.

And yup, Whitebeard was quoting lots of famous people so I could make him sound like a cool grandpa.

And I always wonder why no one questions that chibi Marco that Oda drew. I mean, he looks like a cartographer. So I thought he's possibly the navigator, too, because of that and his DF skills.

Love you, MarcoAce fandom!