AN: Look here is another one look look look I wrote two (and died. I totally died, I am going to be afk and attempting to recover for atleast a month guys xD /lol lies).
Anyway, shout out to the gorgeous lolles, silmil, and my awesome, awesome big bang partner Ezaria! 333
Please drop a review if you enjoy itttt ;u;
"Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
- Alfred Lord Tennyson
There are a lot of people who think that Ace and Marco's soulbond is broken.
Marco is one of them.
He meets Ace when he's twelve. Ace is a few years younger, with squishy cheeks and a sweaty palm, and Roger laughs uproariously when Marco's hand spits Sparks. He can feel his heart leap, and a smile start to stretch his mouth at the strange electricity that runs along his hand, but Ace is only frowning at him, and suddenly, strangely, Marco knows something is wrong.
Rouge looks at Ace with her brow knit carefully, her hand laid on Ace's shoulder, and he glances back at her, looking small and scared. She kneels by him, voice dropping to a low whisper, and Marco feels his stomach knot as he steps backwards and tries to find his dad. His dad will explain it – will explain everything. Whitebeard is good at that.
When he finds his dad in the mess of his younger brothers, though, Whitebeard looks as troubled as Rouge; even Roger's usual smile has dribbled off his face, and everyone is staring at Marco, some weird twist of emotions on their faces that Marco almost can't identify.
It seems almost like pity.
"It's fine," Whitebeard is saying, and his hand gently squeezes Marco's shoulder, but Marco's still stuck trying to figure out why they look so devastated and why they're trying to hide it from him. 'It will be fine, Rouge. Roger."
Rouge's face has a funny little crinkle in it, something he's never seen on her usually always-smiling face, and Marco can't help but stare, knowing this has something to do with why everyone is avoiding looking at him and Ace, like the both of them are pointedly invisible spots.
"Pops?" he questions, tugging on Whitebeard's large sleeve, but Whitebeard only settles his large hand on Marco's, forcing him to stop.
Whitebeard slowly crouches in front of him, bushy brows drawn, and when he speaks it is careful and slow. "Marco, I think Ace is going to go home now."
"But-!" Marco protests, and for some reason his heart aches at the thought, "He's my soulmate!"
"No I'm not."
Marco jolts at the tiny voice. It's stubborn, just the edge of sliding under the childish determination to speak properly, but he can't help but focus on the voice instead of the words, like if he listens to the tone he can ignore what's been said.
Whitebeard's hand tightens on his shoulder.
"I think it's time for Ace to go home now," he repeats again, and this time Roger carefully picks up Ace and they breeze from the house with what sounds like a quiet apology and the waft of Rouge's perfume.
"Pops?" Marco tries again, and can feel his voice crack just a little, wavering.
Whitebeard looks like his heart is breaking at the sound, and Marco tries to stand a little taller, trying not to think about the fact he'd caused that expression. His pops musters a smile that looks too thin to be real, a placating comfort that Marco doesn't want to recognise. "Don't worry, son." Whitebeard says, gently rubbing his thumb on Marco's shoulder. "You're soulmates."
(He says that a lot over the years, when Marco confesses that he doesn't think Ace loves him, or will ever love him. You're soulmates.
Marco's never sure how to tell Whitebeard that he's wrong. Never sure he even wants to, heart longing for the day when Whitebeard could be right.)
When Marco is thirteen, he starts wearing gloves. He can't stand touching Ace and feeling a Spark jump on his skin, envying the warmth it brings before his heart goes cold as Ace stiffens awkwardly.
It's hardly been more than a year, and yet he can't help himself from falling for Ace; every time Ace smiles he can feel his heart do a stupid jump. Every time Ace's eyes pull at the edges when he pouts makes Marco feel heady, and every time Ace's mouth is tilted down in an upset frown, Marco can feel his fists clench.
It isn't fair that Ace can do these things to him and not even realise it; not notice the effect he has on Marco with the simple emotions written on his face, and Marco hates it. He hates being able to read Ace like a book, hates the fact that they're slowly becoming friends.
That's the awful bit, really. That they're friends.
It's not even like Marco can pretend Ace secretly hates him, or is a robot or something, and that's why he hadn't Sparked.
Ace just simply isn't in love with Marco.
Sometimes, on the bad days, Marco wishes he wasn't falling in love with Ace either. He wishes that they weren't, somehow, irrevocably broken.
And sometimes, on the worst of the bad days, he thinks that he knows it's not him so it has to be Ace, and that-
That thought makes him angry. It makes him feel like he should blame Ace, considering that it's Ace's fault for all of this. For the fact that Marco's one chance has been wasted on someone who will probably never, ever love him back, that he's going to spend his life knowing who his soulmate is but forever unable to reach them.
It'd be different if he were like Izo, completely unperturbed by Sparks and soulmates, easily confident in the Magic he wields instead, but Marco has Sparked and there's nothing he can do about it.
Somehow, though, wishing he was like Izo makes him feel sick inside. Izo has his own problems, his own crippling loneliness when people don't understand what it means to be him, and Marco detests himself for the seconds he wishes that Ace were gone so he'd never have to worry about the pain his soulmate brings.
Ace isn't perfect, he knows that, but at the same time it's not his fault that the universe is playing a gigantic joke on Marco. It's not fair that Marco is blaming Ace for something he has no control over-
And yet, though he hates himself for the wishes, he can never get himself to stop.
He truly detests those wishes, because he knows that if he ever mentioned them to Izo, Izo would try and make them come true, and he's not sure how he feels about that.
His brother could grant his wish, but Marco's never sure if he wants it to come true or not.
Whitebeard read him a poem one night that's stayed with him for years. It's short, but the words ring in his head whenever he wishes that Ace wasn't his soulmate; Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
Well Marco's fallen in love, and he's easily lost it all. He's not so sure about the last part, but sometimes there are good days (and they get more frequent as he slowly grows older, buries the longing under happiness that Ace considers Marco his best friend), and he thinks that maybe he understands.
They're not anywhere near perfect, but Marco is trying.
And he's never going to let go of the hope that Ace will one day stop, Marco's name on his lips, and realise he's been in love for years.
Marco's not all too keen on soulmates.
He used to be.
He used to be, used to believe in them with all his heart, used to love the stories told, used to wonder what a Spark would feel like and what colour his would be and how long his soulmate's fingers would be and if it'd happen when they shook hands, or if Marco would literally bump into them and colourful electricity would surge between them.
It feels, somehow, like a betrayal. Like the universe has seen what he wants, more than anything in the world, and has decided that he won't ever be able to have it.
He tries to banish thoughts of Ace by dating other people, and Whitebeard holds his tongue; but his expression flashes with such disappointment that Marco, for a brief moment, will always regret falling in love with Ace. Regrets ever thinking that trying to get Ace out of his head will work without causing pain, because it has and it does and he hates it.
Whitebeard starts to look at him like he should've had this all figured out by now, given that it's been almost six years, but Marco is head over heels and Ace is still walking straight, so Marco is doing everything he can to get Sparks and soulmates out of his head.
When Whitebeard finally starts to say to him, " You'll fall in love with him soon," Marco doesn't tell him but I already have because then Whitebeard's going to question why he's given up on trying to get Ace to fall in love with him, but the only plan he has-
His stupid plan is to somehow make Ace jealous, as if that will work to someone so inherently supportive of all of Marco's choices.
He's tired of it. Of trying to do something that has never worked before, he's an ocean meeting the shore only the shoreline is always the same and he's sick of throwing himself against the sand and dragging himself away.
So he's not going to ruin it now. Ruin his friendship for something that isn't working, for something Fate decreed years before they were born;
Marco Sparked.
Ace didn't.
There are moments over the years (little ones, ones he can steal without them being missed,) where Ace will grin at him widely and beg to go for a ride on Marco's motorbike, and he'll cave easily; pretends, for just a little moment, that Ace's arms wrapped round his waist are meant to be there.
He's been in love with Ace for more than half his life when Sabo shows up.
They actually get along quite well, at first; Ace introduces them, citing Sabo as someone he'd met at Uni, and Marco quite enjoys his witty company. Sabo is polite to the point of flattery, but his tongue is quick and sharp rather than silver. Though he wears thick glasses and oversized grandfather sweaters, his wit more than makes up for how he buries his attractiveness.
Ace flushes when that quick tongue turns on him, and Sabo grins at the colour.
That should've been the first warning bell.
But Marco-
Marco's too set in comfortable knowledge to even think about it. He's used to everyone knowing that Ace was meant to be his (even if it doesn't – isn't – working out), and so Sabo breezing past the situation doesn't set off any alarms.
It isn't until Ace asks why Sabo wears gloves that Marco realises what's happened, and by then it's much too late.
As Sabo pauses Marco can't help but feel his sticky palms, wrapped in bike leather, and wonders if Sabo has someone he doesn't want to love, too. He wonders if Sabo would want to talk about it, if they could trade tips-
But Sabo's words put a stop to that thought.
"I think soulmates are quite archaic. The thought of being forced to chose someone to fall for without first getting to know them, and having to trust a system that's already been proven flawed-"
Sabo trails off, laughing almost awkwardly as he rubs the back of his head, but Ace just looks rapturous, and Marco can feel his heart sink and sink and sink.
That's warning bell number two, only by that point there's nothing he can do.
Sabo is everything that Marco isn't, and Ace has already proven he doesn't want to fall in love with Marco.
He's not even sure that Ace realises it, because Ace never seems to realise these things, but Marco has been sitting on the sidelines all his life and he knows Ace better than the back of his hand; he can see the slow fall, the hesitant longing.
It's strange to think that this used to be him. That he was the one with a smile just barely grazing his lips when he saw Ace, stomach twisted into knots.
One of the most awful parts about watching Ace fall, however, is that Sabo is persistently hard to detest. Marco's tried, feels obligated to hate the guy who's slowly and steadily pulling Ace away, but he-
He's been tired of this fight for a long time now, and so now all he can think is at least Ace is happy.
Ace has known for a very, very long time that he has the coolest mom in the world. For one thing, one time she beat up a thief that'd broken into their home with only a broom, all the while swearing at the guy in angry Spanish.
He can attribute much of his knowledge of Spanish insults to that incident.
For another: this incident, right here.
It's the first time Sabo has visited his house, and Ace has only given his mom about five minute's warning that Sabo's coming, and yet, somehow, magically, she's cleared away enough of Ace's ongoing art project so they can all crowd around the kitchen table and chatter.
Of course, it's slightly problematic at first because Ace is so used to slipping in and out of Spanish with his mom, but Sabo's smart and Ace first met him at Spanish tutoring, anyway, so it's not like he won't pick up some of what they're talking about.
("He's learning two languages, did I mention that, mom?"
"Oh?" Rouge says, with this tiny smile playing over her lips and in her eyes, but Ace just doesn't notice.)
Rouge offers to make them brownies, to which Ace eagerly agrees and Sabo looks stunned by, and Ace drags Sabo up to his room, intent on fulfilling his promise. Sabo's come to him to look great on his date with Law, and Ace would gladly help with whatever Sabo asked.
Well, he'd help all his friends if they wanted it, of course. It's not just Sabo in particular that he'd do anything for.
He shakes his head, unsure as to why he's suddenly trying to justify this, and turns his attention back to what Sabo has bought him to work with and what Ace knows is in his own closet. He's thankful they're both relatively close in size, even if he does have slightly more muscle than Sabo does.
With an appraising eye he tries to figure out what he could mix-and-match together for Sabo, before eventually deciding on a dark grey pair of skinny jeans and a light blue shirt with a dragon on it that Sabo's been eyeing off with bated breath since he stepped inside Ace's bedroom.
Then, he flaps his hands and shoos Sabo off to get changed, waiting impatiently for Sabo to return.
Ace grins to himself at Sabo's outfit when he finally gets back, hesitating almost nervously at the door, fingers twisting in the hem of Ace's shirt. "Looking gooooood !" he calls triumphantly, and Sabo's face turns an adorable shade of pink.
With the colour comes a tightening of his fingers, though, and his hands skim his scars, picking at the edges and almost itching at the skin as he tries to cover them. Ace can feel a little frown on his face before a clever idea hits. He grabs his jacket from where he'd chucked it on the bed, glad that Rouge'd washed it yesterday, and steps forwards to slide it onto Sabo's shoulders.
Sabo blinks at him, and Ace makes an impatient gesture, watching as Sabo obediently hurries to slot his hands through the sleeves. When he's done, Ace pushes the sleeves up a bit and grins comfortingly at Sabo before he takes a step back to see how his jacket fits with the rest of the outfit. He has other jackets he can use if this doesn't go well, but he figured he may as well try-
"Do I- look okay?" Sabo asks, shifting nervously, and Ace feels his eyes go wide at how fucking cute that action is, and how well he can pull off the outfit Ace has made for him. It makes his heart tighten in his chest, in a way that it's never, ever done before, and Ace finds himself utterly speechless. His mouth feels dry, eyes tracing the line of Sabo's shoulders in his jacket and the rolled up sleeves and the tight jeans and the literally everything that makes up Sabo, and his brain feels almost as though it's short-circuited, refusing to work.
"Ace?" Sabo asks, now looking even more worried, and Ace quickly shakes his head, shutting his gaping mouth closed with a click.
"Yeah! Yeah, Sabo," he says hurriedly, offering Sabo a grin and trying not to think about what'd caused his sudden muteness. "You look- you look really great."
Sabo flushes even redder. Ace very very firmly tries to get his head to shut up, because for some reason it's yelling at him and most of the words go something along the lines of, "holy shit he looks so great in my jacket, he's so cute, oh my god I want to kiss him, could I kiss him? I could totally kiss him, I want to kiss him-"
Hesitantly, Ace takes a step forwards, and Sabo doesn't move, lets him close enough to almost touch, lets him close enough to catch the minuet flicker of his eyes to Ace's lips-
"Do you think Law will like it?" Sabo blurts, and Ace freezes, the words almost like a giant ice bucket straight over his head. It's almost as though Sabo's trying to remind himself, but his words have bought Ace back to reality and he can feel his own body heat in embarrassment as he quickly brushes past Sabo, reaching for the cupboard and grabbing a beanie that he jams over his own head, covering his burning ears.
"Yeah, Sab. He'll love it, I'm sure. You look great."
"You don't think-"
"Sabo, you look fine. I promise. I wouldn't set you wrong on this, okay?" he tries to offer a disarming smile, but for some reason it's not as easy as it should be and he finds himself swallowing through a tight throat. "You should probably get going. Don't you have to meet him at six?"
Sabo jumps a little, startled, and his eyes immediately dart to his watch. Ace can see the moment realisation of the time hits, and then Sabo is grabbing his boots and trying to hop and pull them on at the same time, escaping Ace's room. "Thank you so much for your help!" he calls as he almost trips down the stairs, and Ace can't help laughing.
"Have fun!" he calls, and it feels like he means it, but at the same time-
Sabo disappears out the front door, and Ace takes two steps back, flopping onto his bed with a low groan and grabbing for his pillow. Clutching it to his chest, he tries to figure out what to do with the stupid feeling that has taken up residency near his heart.
Or, rather, his realisation of said stupid feeling.
It's…weirdly comfortable, the funny twist that comes to his heart when he thinks about Sabo, and thought it edges painful, the emotion still brings a smile to his face. However, thinking about Sabo leads him to thinking about Sabo and Law, and he buries his face in his pillow, groaning again. The uplifting feeling that has twisted his heart almost seems to twist too far, and bubbling happiness transforms to bitter longing.
It hurts, like nothing seems to have really hurt so far, and he doesn't know why, only knows it in the weird conjunction of Sabo, and kissing, and-
Oh my god, he thinks, eyes opening wide at the realisation that suddenly hits him. I like him.
He scrambles for his phone, flicks it on, and before he can even think he's dialled Marco's number and is waiting impatiently for Marco to pick up. Ace hears the quiet murmur of Marco's voice, and doesn't even wait for him to finish, starting with a frenzied, "Marco, I-!"
Then, he stops. Indecision crawls on the tip of his tongue like an itch, the words he's about to say hovering on the edge like they're poised on a see-saw.
"Ace?" Marco enquires, making a confused noise in the back of his throat, but Ace has already swallowed back the words and stammers,
"I- helped Sabo. Get ready for a date."
"Yeah...?" Marco says, sounding even more bewildered. "And-?"
"Well- I- see the thing is-" he starts, and he's unsure how to explain what he wants, but Marco usually gets him anyway and so he blurts, "he's going on a date with Law! And I'm worried! What if something bad happens?"
"Just because I only ever tell you about the times my own dates fail, doesn't mean that all dates are likely to do that, yoi." Marco drawls, the hint of a teasing tone in his voice, and Ace doesn't mention that technically all of Marco's dates have been failures, because he never seems to go on more than one. "Ace, just trust him. I'm sure the date will go well."
"I- but I don't think I want it to go well, Marco."
"Well that's not very nice."
"I know ." Ace says with a groan, burying his face in his hands.
Marco sighs, the sound crackling through the phone line, and Ace feels his nose crinkle and lips fall into a frown.
"Well, what do you want to do about it?" Marco asks. "I mean, it's not like you can just follow them around and sabotage it, yoi."
Ace freezes, brain tickled with the edge of an idea. He can totally do that; he can be sneaky, and it wouldn't be sabotage, per say, just innocent meddling where able. Just to make sure that Law didn't hurt Sabo, that was all.
Make the date a bit more interesting.
"Ace?" Marco says, sounding as though this is one of the many times he's tried to get Ace's attention, and he finally snaps his thoughts away from his plans, feeling a grin on his cheeks.
"Hey, so, are you free this evening?"
Marco makes a suspicious noise, sounding as though he's about to refuse, but Ace doesn't want to do this alone. He makes a whine in the back of his throat, and can hear Marco sigh in response. "Yes!" he cheers, knowing the noise as Marco's defeat, and blows a kiss into the phone as he hangs up. "Be there in twenty, Marco. Adiós!"
Easily the worst thing about being on a date with Law is that Sabo can't stop thinking about Ace. Ace's face when Sabo would first link arms. Ace's face as they talked over dinner. Ace's reactions to the movie, or Sabo's cheesy jokes and flirts.
He tries so hard to pay attention to Law, because Sabo's the one who asked for this- but every time his concentration wavers he ends up remembering Ace's smile and wondering if, on the bus ride home, Ace would sit so close they practically shared a seat.
Law doesn't. Law keeps a perfectly proper distance between them, taking care not to touch Sabo casually, and while before Sabo would've respected that - even appreciated that, loving the fact that Law was allowing a relationship to bloom before ever seeing if they Sparked - now, he's impatient.
Now, he's acclimatised to Ace , his easy laughter and easy smiles and easy touches. They drive him mad, in a way that no-one has ever managed to do, and Sabo can't help but dream about the faint possibility that Ace knows more about how his Sparks work than he lets on.
But, that's all speculation on his part anyway. Speculation based on what he knows of a years-old story, and on Ace himself, and what he can do. Speculation based on what he knows about Sparks and what he knows about people.
It's a shot in the dark that Sabo even has a chance, one that he's terrified to take, and so when Law mentions a passing interest, Sabo had jumped at the chance.
And now he can measure exactly how far he's fallen.
As Law walks him up the path to the uni dorms, Sabo keeps having to remind himself that the person next to him isn't Ace, that holding hands would be a bad idea, that this was a date and he should've been more respectful, instead of thinking about Ace all the time-
But it is very, very hard to do. They stop in front of Sabo's dorm, and then pause, and Sabo feels as though he should be offering at the very least a kiss on the cheek for the time spent and the enjoyment he'd had but-
He can't bring himself to move closer. "I had a nice time tonight," is all he offers, and Law gives a small nod, a smile gracing his cheeks.
"I admit, I had reservations at first, but did enjoy myself. I found myself pleasantly surprised when you showed up looking- as you did."
Sabo grins a little at the memory, and then has to try and banish it because all he can think about is how Ace had stepped oh-so-close. "I had some help."
"Portgas, I presume." Law says, and there's that same hint of a smile playing on the curves of his mouth that Sabo had seen on Rouge's this afternoon. He feels decidedly transparent, especially considering that at least two people today have figured out about his affections.
Sabo hears something crack behind them, and his brow furrows. Law glances into the darkness, but only seems to spot something that makes him raise his eyebrow. When Sabo turns to look, though, Law grabs his shoulders and leans in and more than one alarm bell goes off in Sabo's head.
He steps back hurriedly, almost tripping on the steps, and Law quickly leans in to help him regain his balance. He's almost ninety percent sure he'd heard a swear then, but it must've been Law, and Sabo's a little busy stuttering out excuses to really pay more attention. "I'm- I don't really- that's not to say I'm not flattered, honestly but I-"
"You have Portgas." Law said, that hint of a smile curling up his mouth, but Sabo can only stare, trying and failing to find some way to defend himself. "I did have fun tonight, however. If you'd like to spend more time together without us being under the guise of a 'date', I'd be more than willing."
Sabo can feel his stunned expression fading into a small smile, and he nods. "That- that would be nice, I think."
Law nods again and then sets off down the path, and Sabo lets himself into his dorm, rubbing the leather of Ace's jacket between his fingers.
Marco's pretty sure Law's coming their way. On a scale of one to ten, his sureness could be rated somewhere in the high thousands.
"He's not coming this way." Ace hisses at him, but Marco can see that Ace is almost daring for Law to step closer. He looks about ready to jump out the bush and tackle Law if Law doesn't come to them.
"He's coming this way," Marco says quietly, and then Law steps off the path and Ace swears.
"Okay, damnit, he's coming this way."
"Told you so," Marco murmurs, because it's past eleven and he has a test tomorrow and he's annoyed at himself for not being able to turn down Ace's plea for a spying buddy. Why couldn't he have just passed Ace along to Thatch? They loved playing at being spies together!
Law stops in front of their bush, and Marco grabs Ace's arm to prevent him from sending Law flying with a few missing teeth.
"I know you're there," Law says, just as Marco's about to say, 'maybe he hasn't noticed us?'
Marco sighs and stands, half-dragging Ace with him, and Ace glares petulantly. "Hello," Marco says, and Law purses his lips, staring at them,
Marco cautiously lets go of Ace's arm, hoping Ace won't punch Law in the face. "What are you doing?" Law finally asks, after their brief stare-down.
"Looking for my narcolepsy medicine." Ace replies immediately, quite obviously attempting to glare holes through Law's body.
"In the bushes?" Law says, disbelieving, and Ace nods.
"Yes. Sabo's bushes. Because Sabo is my friend. And I visit him a lot."
"So," Law says, patronisingly slow, and Marco winces, knowing by the tone they're caught, "wouldn't they be in his dorm?"
Ace pauses for a brief moment, looking stuck, before giving up and just glaring. "Shouldn't you be at your dorm?"
Law's leer makes Ace bristle, and Marco lays his hand on Ace's arm to prevent him from doing something stupid.
Law's eyes dart to the movement, and his smirk seems to still.
Everyone knows about Marco and his gloves and his Spark, after all.
"How about we all just go home, yoi." Marco offers and he can see Ace rail against the idea. Law, though, takes the offer at face value and uses it to regain his balance, acquiescing with a nod.
"I wouldn't dream of attempting to detain you," he says, and then his eyes flick to Ace and Marco considers cursing because Law has a very bad habit of stirring up trouble. "Besides, I'm sure you two have more than enough fun things to do without me. I mean, Sabo and I certainly had some."
Marco's grip on Ace's arm tightens, preventing Ace from launching himself at Law, no matter how much he doesn't want to. He'd seen Sabo's flinch just as easily as Ace had, and he knows no-one should flinch when they're having 'fun'.
Ace's eyes narrow at Law's implications, and he growls, "Whatever you're trying to say about me and Marco is probably wrong, so fuck off on that," he says, still bristling with anger. "And if you think I'll let you get away with hurting Sabo-"
"Well it wouldn't be the first time someone got away with something around you," Law says languidly. "I mean, just ask Marco. Really, you would be crushed to know of all the things you never notice. Practically sparking in anger, Portgas."
His grin stretches wide, teeth gleaming sharp and shark-like, and with a start Marco realises that Law's pointed comment has been aimed at him, not Ace. He can see from the corner of his eye that Ace is still glaring at Law, but Marco has been treated to a fraction of a second's glance that's filled with confusion.
Marco refuses to say a word, jaw set tight. He's starting to wonder if it's really Ace that should be held back right now, because his own temper is flaring.
He'd known Law was a bit of a jerk, but this is pushing it, even for him. For half a moment Marco considers just letting Ace have his way, but he knows how badly that will end and so gently tugs on Ace's arm. Ace holds firm for a moment, still glaring at Law, but then lets Marco pull him away, back towards Marco's bike.
"Hope you too enjoy yourselves!" Law calls, and when Marco looks back Law's still standing in the lamplight, chesire grin illuminated gold.
Ace hasn't stopped complaining about Law for the past two days, and Marco has found himself wishing – not for the first time – that he'd invested in a pair of earplugs when Ace had first started. He probably could've dealt with it, if it weren't for the fact that Ace just hasn't stopped talking about Sabo and Law, and yet still continues to make it an absolutely huge deal whenever anyone even gets close to asking if he has feelings for Sabo.
Marco's running on coffee and aviation facts, he's in no mood to listen and try to stay patient with a situation that that he hates being caught in, too.
Izo can see him slowly stretched to a breaking point, and when Ace finally stops complaining to Marco on the phone, swoops in and invites Ace to lunch. Marco can't see how this will help, but hey. Maybe Izo's finally invented a silencing spell and Marco won't have to hear Ace ever talk about Sabo again. The thought is entirely petty, but he still can't help but sullenly think it over as he helps Izo and Haruta clear books from their kitchen table while Thatch cooks lunch.
They have a modest place, thanks in part to Thatch's position at the uni's bakery, Izo's as their town's resident spell caster, and the slightly not-so-legal activities that the four of them take part in when frustrated (it wasn't Marco's fault that their faux fight/street race club had taken off with such vivacity, no matter what Izo always claimed). There's enough space for all four of them to live without being in each other's way constantly, and there's a sofa bed for when they want guests.
It's also close to the airfield, which Marco loves and Izo hates, but Izo travels frequently for his design gigs and when he complains Marco just points out that he's not home for long enough to be constantly annoyed by it.
Izo then always makes a point to not tell any of them about when he has partners over, to get Marco back for those reasonable, frequent arguments, because Izo is a jerk withno shame. (Haruta always gets the worst of it though, which he does feel a bit sorry for considering she's one most embarrassed by Izo's exploits. In Marco's defence of her anger towards him for annoying Izo, he'd voted against having an innuendo-loving aromantic and two sex-repulsed asexuals living in the same house.)
When Izo is especially mad, however, he calls Ace - who lives only a street over - and makes pointed remarks about Ace practicing his anatomy, and oh, wouldn't Marco make a perfect model?
Marco's waiting for Ace to start yammering about Law and Sabo as soon as he steps through the door, but happily enough he finds himself disappointed. Izo takes control of the conversation and they spend almost half an hour talking about things that aren't Sabo, and Marco feels like crying in relief. Is that what his brothers felt like when Marco first fell for Ace?
If it was, then he definitely owes them an apology and a thank you card for not trying to kill him. More than two days of those sort of babbling would've been enough to drive any sane person up the wall.
He's almost ready to start holding out on the hope that Izo can keep Ace's attention away from Sabo all night when Izo misses a beat and asks how Kidd is doing with his garage.
Talking about Kidd leads them to talking about Law, and before Marco can signal frantically for Izo to change the conversation, Ace is once again complaining about Law and Sabo, and the date he and Marco had spied on.
"It's not even like they Sparked!" Ace says, and Marco bites his tongue, feeling heavy, irrational anger in his throat.
Ace had never cared about Sparks before, and the sudden shift in interest, just because of Sabo-
Well, it makes Marco take back his earlier thoughts about Sabo being persistently hard to dislike. He finds himself quite easily detesting the concept of 'Sabo', even if he doesn't actually hate Sabo himself.
"You don't have to Spark to be attracted to someone," Izo points out rationally, preventing Marco from saying something he'd regret, and Marco turns his attention back to his plate, stabbing a piece of chicken with extreme prejudice. "There is a difference between a Spark and simple attraction." Ace flaps his hand with a sigh, taking a sad bite of his food.
"I know that, Izo, I just- I'm just jealous, and it's stupid!"
Izo hides his cough artfully, taking a sip of water as though it were only to clear his throat. Haruta has already claimed a highly important assignment that's due soon, and is reading at the table to try and ignore the painful, awkward irony.
Thatch, the fucking idiot that he is, opens his big mouth.
"You could do the same," he suggests, grabbing a piece of chicken, and Izo coughs for real this time, choking on his water and slamming the glass down on the table. Thatch doesn't seem to realise, ignoring the pointed glares and various impolite gestures, and takes a bite of chicken. When he next speaks it's through a mouth full of meat and only half-intelligible, "Date someone, get Sabo jealous so he takes off his gloves, va-bam! He'll prove you Spark."
Ace's expression slowly begins to brighten, Thatch's plan hitting all the right points, and Marco shares a panicked look with Izo.
Izo shrugs, expression twisted in painful apology and Marco turns his attention back to the table as Ace gazes contemplatively at Thatch, and then switches his attention to Izo, eyes wide and pleading.
"Oh no pretty boy," Izo says, holding his hands up in front of him and glaring. "I love you, but not that much."
Ace's attention almost immediately switches to Marco, and literally all of his head starts to yell no at the same time. This is such a bad, bad idea, he knows it right down to the marrow of his bones, it will end with heartbreak and pain and he'll never be able to live with himself if Ace touches him while Marco is surprised and they Spark. He'd ruin Ace's plans-
It's awful, the moment that realisation hits him.
That he could play saboteur, that he could stop Sabo and Ace from ever touching and finding out if they Sparked, without even doing anything.
He could ruin this whole thing with one easy movement; slip off his glove, slip his hand into Ace's, and Sabo will know, just like everyone else does. That Ace is Marco's Spark.
Ace clasps his hands in front of him, leaning over the table and pouting. "Marco, please ? I'll do your dishes for a month!"
But Marco knows he never could. Not when Ace looks so happy.
"Pretty sure you already owe me that, yoi," Marco says, trying to fight for time, but his resistance is crumbling like it always does and he finds himself nodding.
This is such a bad idea.