Title: Beckoning
Rating: G (?)
Pairing: Marco/Ace
Warning(s): Vague mentions of death.
Fire had always had an allure to it; even before his devil fruit but especially after.
It drew his eye; his gaze lingered longer on a flame than most would.
Sometimes, when he couldn't get his mind to focus on work that needed to be done, he would reach out to his candle and watch as his blue flame licked at the orange, both swallowing and encouraging it.
It was a hypnotic sight, blue and orange intertwined not quite in a duel but more a dance.
So, of course, Ace's presence beckoned him.
Even without the Mera Mera no Mi, Ace burned with a vim and vigor that few others possessed.
He did nothing half way (or half assed), lived like he was dying, ate enough for an army, and drew others to him like moths drew to flame (a painful analogy).
There was a constant reminder, like a broken record in his head, that beat into his mind what was and wasn't okay. He needed that mantra, for it was all too tempting to let flame leap from his fingertips and across Ace's cheek (over a shoulder, along a hip, down his spine) to see what reaction he could draw; to see if Ace's fire would answer back.
Marco wanted that, wanted that brilliant orange flame to lap at his own blue, answer in kind and swallow it whole.
It sounded... sexual when he thought about it that way, but it wasn't as if he only wanted Ace's flame; his body, his company, his attention... Marco wanted it all.
Which was why he needed the mantra.
Ace didn't.
Ace pushed every button he possessed, and carved new ones. He made a place by Marco's side, and refused to be budged from it.
Marco should have put down a firmer foot, should have enforced his rules more, should have listened to his fucking mantra; Ace found all the holes in his rules and armor and it lead to Marco finding a pair of firm lips against his own, and a warm body pressing insistently against him.
Hesitantly, Marco set aside his rules.
Hesitantly, he gave Ace what he wanted.
Hesitantly, he finally let his blue flames lick across the tan body beneath him.
Hesitantly, he fell in love with the cocky kid who at one point hadn't even wanted to join them.
Ace ran head first into it all, fire burning bright enough to illuminate any darkness that may have otherwise lingered.
But Ace didn't belong only to him.
Ace didn't care for only him.
It was understandable, his anger, with what had happened to their friend, their brother.
It never should have ended like this.
His flame never should have been extinguished.
It was a travesty of 'justice', a tragedy of lost life.
Never again did his own vividly hued flames burn as bright as they once had.