So, I don't know how old Marco is. Does anyone really? I always thought that he was somewhere in his late 30's early 40's maybe, but I don't know. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy and happy birthday Marco!

Warning: M/M smut, whining and cheese (lots and lots of cheese…so sorry)

One Piece Belongs to Eiichiro Oda

Forty to None

Marco frowned, looking at himself in his front rearview mirror.

Another year had past—another long assed year—and, sadly, he wasn't getting any younger. If anything, he was aging faster than he would like.

Summer had faded away fast, catapulting straight into fall. And, once again, the months had made it to October. It wasn't the month itself that he had a problem with; rather it was a certain day—the fifth.

Marco hated his birthday, and always had. He wanted nothing more than to skip it. His father and his brothers, however, simply refused to even entertain the notion. Every year they made a big deal out of it—hell, they'd make a big deal out of anything so long as they got a party out of it. Which was why he now sat hesitating in his car, staring up at his Pops' mansion. It was only a matter of time before the party would commence.

Though usually by the time he arrived they'd have already started…

He looked back at himself in the mirror, scowling at his drooping eyes and receding hairline. It looked as if he hadn't slept well in years and just couldn't care less, his hair now resembling a certain spiked fruit. Marco hated aging—aging was what made his last boyfriend dump him. 'The age gap was just too much,' he had said, 'they were going in two completely different directions.'

Pain swelled in his chest. He had told himself that he wasn't going to think about it.

He was NOT going to think about it…

Pushing his car door open, Marco stepped out, moving up the stone pathway leading up to his Pops' mansion. Standing before the door, Marco listened in, hoping to hear the sound of movement behind it. Of course, he heard nothing, only silence.

This worried Marco to no end. He didn't know what to expect now. There would usually be a little pre-party occurring right about now as he family waited for the guest of honor to arrive. Now, he couldn't help but to wonder why this was different. Was a surprise party supposed to be happening? Was that what was going on? Were they all hiding from him, waiting to jump out at him when he least expected it?

He smirked, pushing away all worries. They wouldn't get him that easily. He wouldn't let them.

Slipping his key into the keyhole, Marco unlocked the door, prepared for what was to come. Stepping into the mansion's empty foyer, Marco noticed that there was not a soul to be detected—not a single soul in sight. Not one.

'Where was everyone?' he thinks to himself, moving up the stairs.

Once he reached the top, he found himself turning down the nearest hall, heading towards the heart of the mansion. As he walked, he had still yet to see a single person. It was just him and the sound of his footsteps as they echoed down the halls.

Just as he reached the end of the hall, a door opened up with someone stepping out of it.

'Oh, man. Here we go.' Marco refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Yo, Marco," Thatch greets cheerily, approaching the blond with a wide dumb grin. "How's it going?"

"Fine, I suppose, yoi. Where is everyone?" He tried peering behind his brother and into the room he had just exited, but it was too dark for him to see into.

Thatch shrugs. "I don't really know. I assume most people are out. It's been a pretty busy Sunday." The brunet looks away thoughtfully. "All though, I do believe Izo's talking to Pops right now."

"Oh, about what, yoi?"

Thatch shrugs half-heartedly. "How should I know?"

His heart plummeted, face falling in disappointment. Quickly, he tried to mask it before his brother could notice.

"You okay, Marco? You look a little strange."

"I'm fine, yoi. I'm gonna go find Pops and Izo."

Thatch shoots him a strange look. "All right, man. If you're sure." He moves around the blond. "Take care."

Waving his brother off, Marco continued on his way. His conversation with Thatch had rubbed him the wrong way. Thatch, though loveable and cheery, was usually simple and loose-lipped. If anything was to be kept a secret, Thatch was the go-to guy for answers. Within seconds, he was usually blabbing one thing or another. This time, however, he hadn't said anything—didn't give a single inclination of knowing what was going on.

'Oh, very sneaky, they're getting better at this,' Marco thinks to himself. 'If anything, they made sure to keep Thatch out of the loop so that he didn't spill and give everything away.'

Smirking, Marco turned down another corner into a shorter corridor.

It was a nice attempt, but he saw through it. Points to his family for their efforts, though.

Reaching a grand door, Marco knocked on it before entering, making sure to let his smirk fall away into a carefully neutral expression.

"Pops," he says, entering the large room.

Two sets of eyes turn to look at him, one belonging to his father and the other to his brother, Izo.

"Marco?" Pops asks, hazel eyes blinking at him in surprise. "What brings you here, son?"

Marco let his gaze shift between the two of them, lingering on his brother, who seemed annoyed by his very presence, painted lips pulled into a tight line.

"What…what do you mean 'What am I doing here?' Isn't it obvious, yoi?"

"No," Izo responds sharply. "Now, if you don't mind, I was having a conversation with Pops about something very important, so say whatever it is you need to say."

"Oh, no—I was just…uh, curious where everyone was, yoi." Marco flailed hopelessly with his excuse, hoping they didn't notice how pathetically dejected he was becoming.

Of course, neither gave any indication of having noticed.

"Most everyone is out doing their own thing, Marco. Working, hanging out—it's the weekend,' Izo states somewhat condescendingly.

"Oh…I see."

Izo sighs, returning his attention to their father. "If you don't mind, Marco, we were discussing something." He says this pointedly, practically pushing the blond out the door with his words.

"He's right, Marco," Pops chimes in, though far kinder than his brother had been. "We were discussing matters of importance."

"All right, all right. I get it, yoi. I'm gone."

Turning to leave, Marco grasped the cold bronze of the door's handle.

"But, son," Pops says from behind him, causing him to freeze. Looking over his shoulder, Marco saw the man watching him, an unknown emotion playing in his eyes. "If you come back later, we can always talk."

Wordlessly, Marco nodded, letting himself out and back into the hallway. Once the door had closed completely behind him, Marco walked a bit away from the door, stopping further down the hall to lean against the wall.

They hadn't said anything—no one had. It would seem no one even remembered what today was. Most of his brothers were busy, not bothering to stay home to even wish him a happy birthday.

Strangely enough, his family was actually respecting his wished. It would seem that there would be no celebration this time around, something Marco had never thought would actually happen. Though he had always wished for it, he wasn't sure he actually wanted it.

His birthday had been swiftly and promptly forgotten by his family.

"Oh my goodness. This is truly pathetic."

Marco peeked an eye open. Standing over him was a dark figure, blinded out by the sunlight peeking in through the curtains. They stood with their hands on their hips, no doubt scowling down at him.

"Go away, Izo. I want to be left alone, yoi."

Turning over, he faced away from his brother, burrowing further into his spot.

"Instead of moping around, why don't you get up and do something? What? Don't tell me you came all the way here just to sleep on Pops' couch?"

"I didn't, yoi. I had a reason for coming here."

"Please, do tell what that reason was."

Marco remained silent. He was too old to be whining about people forgetting his birthday. Giving that reasoning was sure to piss Izo off anyways. He could hear the cross dresser now: "Well, Marco, you've never wanted us to celebrate it anyways. You keep saying how bad it makes you feel—how old."

Yeah, he wasn't ready for that to happen. He needed to pin the blame on something else. Should he lie? Or maybe he should tell the truth? Maybe he could say it was loneliness—yeah, loneliness. That's what it was. Loneliness. He had been feeling it ever since his last boyfriend had dropped him like a sack of rocks, leaving him to fend and drown by himself in a deep river of emotions. He had been so caught up in the fast moving currents that he hadn't realized that he still hadn't let it go. His birthday would've at least given him a reason to be surrounded by family, drinking to his heart's delight.

"Well?" the cross dresser asks impatiently.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, yoi."

"So, what, you're just going to mope around?"

…

"By yourself?"

…

"Taking advantage of Pops' hospitality and bothering him with your sucky attitude?"

Marco doesn't answer, ignoring his brother's goading.

"Come on, get up."

Marco looked at his brother in shock. "What?"

"I said 'get up.' We're going out. You're not just going to lie around moping all day, so we're going out. You, me and Thatch."

"I don't know, Izo…"

The cross dresser glares at him. "I'm not asking you, Marco. I'm telling you. Now, get up. We're leaving in fifteen."

Marco trailed behind his brothers as they entered Rayleigh's Bar.

It had surprised him when they had pulled up in front of one of his favorite bars. It would seem like Izo and Thatch really were trying to cheer him up.

Inside the music was loud and upbeat, drowning out most everything. They crossed the wooden flooring to the bar area, sitting down in a nearby booth.

"Happy now?" Izo asks, scooting in next to Thatch.

"Surprised is more like it. I can't believe you guys brought me here."

Thatch and Izo smiled triumphantly at him.

"Anything to lighten up your mood. You seemed really down today," Thatch says.

Izo nodded along in agreement, though, not looking at either men, instead looking around the bar. His face brightened when he had found whatever it was he was looking for, a change that hadn't gone unnoticed by Marco. However, before he could ask his brother what it was, he was interrupted.

A woman with bobbed dark hair came by, taking their drink orders. She ended up coming back with a tray full of drinks: dark beers, light beers, fruity-looking brightly colored drinks—things Marco wasn't even sure he could pronounce. They were set, sprawled around their table.

"Come on, Marco. Don't be so stingy. See this is exactly why you were so down today. It's because you won't let yourself live a little. Drink. DRINK!"

Marco sipped at his beer, attempting to ignore his brother, Thatch. The man wasn't inebriated yet, but he was getting there.

"Thatch is right," Izo adds in, eyes still set and focused on something behind them. "You are stingy."

"What was that, yoi?" Marco glares, daring them both to continue.

"Nothing," they say simultaneously.

They drank in silence. Most of the drinks were consumed by Thatch and then, admittedly, Marco. Thatch was binging for the hell of it, while Marco drank to push his feelings back. Dark thoughts were circling his mind. He didn't wasn't to think about how things weren't going his way: his life, his love life, his birthday—none of it.

Izo drank the last drink on the table, sipping at it gingerly.

"Aw, we're all out," Thatch whines. He turns to his brother, gripping his shoulders and shaking him a bit. "Come on, Marco. Go get us some more drinks."

"Yes, Marco. Get us more drinks, won't you?"

Marco managed to shrug his brother off him. "I'm trying, yoi." He waved his hand, trying to flag down their waitress, but she didn't seem to notice them. The bar that night was pretty packed and was only getting fuller.

"Fine," Marco sighs, moving away from his brothers. "I'll be right back, yoi."

Marco made his way to the bar, placing himself in an empty spot at the bar. There were three other bartenders on duty, all of them busy. One nodded at him in acknowledgement, continuing to serve their current customer.

"Ever seen this place so crowded?"

Marco turned, looking at the person who had just addressed him.

Sitting at his side, situated comfortably in their seat at the bar, was a man no younger and no older than his twenties. He had long, shoulder length hair that fell in dark waves. His face was fairly handsome, covered in freckles. A small smile was upon the boy's lips. He was looking at Marco, one arm resting on the counter, hand beneath his chin.

"Once or twice before, yoi."

The man's smile widened. "I'm Ace by the way."

"Marco. It's nice to meet you," Marco smiled in return.

"Troubled?" Ace asks.

Marco raised a thin brow at him. "You can tell, yoi?"

Ace hums. "A little. So, what's the issue?"

"Where do I start, yoi?"

"You're kidding?"

"Nope," Marco smiles, shaking his head. "Completely forgot. All of them. Normally, I wouldn't feel so bad about it—hell, most of the time I wish for it, but this time…I don't know. This time it really got to me."

"Well, maybe they realized and just haven't told you? Perhaps bringing you here is a way of compensating or something?"

"Yeah, right. Bringing me here is more like them trying to get me drunk enough to let it go."

They laughed; the youngest banging his hand upon the table good-naturedly.

After having gotten the drinks, Marco had given them to his brothers, excusing himself to go talk more with Ace.

He knew he shouldn't with the younger man, but there was something about him that was magnetic, drawing him closer and closer to a forbidden fruit.

"So," the dark haired man starts, "Today's your, what, thirtieth birthday?"

"Fortieth," Marco corrects, taking a hard swallow of his drink, letting it burn its way down his throat.

He refused to look at the younger man, waiting for his reaction—for him to freak out about their age difference. After all, no one as young and hot as Ace would actually want to stay with someone as old as he was. However, time passed and there was no freak out. The younger man was not cursing him out or accusing him of being a pervert.

Chancing a look at the man, he noticed him smirking.

"Yeah, and how's it going so far?"

"Now," Marco mused relieved, "A lot better."

Ace chuckled, leaning closer to the blond. "Glad to hear it. What's next on your agenda?"

Marco looked back at his brothers, who were chatting happily with one another, neither one seeming to notice nor take offense of his absence.

"As of now, nothing."

"Good," Ace grins. "Let's get out of here."

"What? Why? Where?" Marco asks rushed.

"Let's get out of here," Ace repeats, "because we can and to my place."

Marco hesitates, sparing his oblivious brothers another glance. "I-I don't know."

The freckled man…he was so young. Anything they could or would start would just end up like his previous relationship, or all the one's before that. Disastrous. There was just too much of a difference. Going with him would be a very bad idea.

The freckled man trailed a finger up his arm; tiny sparks of warmth and electricity following in its wake. It was a small gesture that held huge promise. Ace's lips quirked into a knowing smile, dark eyes carefully gauging Marco's reaction, before biting his lower lip.

'On the other hand, maybe this won't be so bad,' Marco thinks to himself.

It was only one night after all…

"Well, what do you say?" Ace asks.

Izo smirks, watching as a dark haired man led their brother out of Rayleigh's.

"What?" Thatch asks, eyeing his brother suspiciously from over an orange-red colored fruit drink.

"It worked," Izo says simply.

"It did?" Thatch looked over his brother's head, catching sight of Marco just as he was exiting. "He didn't even say good bye," he pouts.

"Oh, hush now."

Izo looked back at the door his brother and the dark haired man had left through. The man, Ace, was a last minute miracle. They were in need of more time for preparation, after all, the venue for Marco's birthday was going to be even bigger than any of the previous parties they had held. They needed all the time they could get and Ace was an excellent distraction for the blond. After all, the dark haired man had been in love with Marco for a long time, since he had first seen him at Rayleigh's years back. Of course, back then, Marco had been taken, but now he was single and Ace was given opportunity, which he gladly took advantage of. Ace was more than willing to help out.

'Happy Birthday, Marco.'

Closing the door behind them, Ace turned pressing his forehead against the wood. His nerves were eating away at him. He had been in love with Marco for years, and now the blond was there at his home. For the first time, the dark haired man was at a lost as to how to proceed.

"Ace," the blond says softly from behind him, "everything okay?"

He turns. "Everything's fine," he smiles, hoping it was genuine and not as off balance as his emotions.

Marco gives him a skeptical look, but doesn't push.

"Sorry about the mess," he says moving past the blond, removing his shoes. "It's mostly my little brother," he adds over his shoulder.

"Little brother?" Marco asks worriedly. He looked around the apartment, but didn't see a sign of anyone else being there.

"Yeah, Luffy. Don't worry, though. He's not here right now."

Ace led the blond further into the house, taking him straight into his living room, which also happened to be connected to the kitchen.

"Want anything?" he asks the blond.

Marco shakes his head wordlessly, still looking around.

Amused, Ace grabs his arm, sitting him down on the couch. "You'll have plenty of time to check out the deco later. Right now, let's do something fun for your birthday."

Marco raised a brow. "Oh. And what did you have in mind?"

Suddenly, the freckled man was climbing over the blond, throwing a leg on either side of him and straddling him. He leans forward, kissing him long and deep. At first, Marco is caught off guard by the man's boldness, but soon found himself complying, moving his lips in sync with the other.

They kissed like that for a while. Every once awhile pulling back to look each other in the eyes, breath panting heavily. They touched each other fleetingly, at first uncomfortable with the flicks of electricity that came with the contact. Eventually, Marco came to rest his hand upon the small of the younger man's back, while one of Ace's hands gripped his hair and the other clawed down his chest to the buttons of his pants.

He leaned in for another kiss.

They pulled away, resting their foreheads against one another as Ace worked to unbutton the blond's pants. Once they were open, Ace moved, sliding down to his knees to the floor below. He grinned up wickedly at the blond. He leaned forward, his teeth biting at the zipper of the man's pants, pulling it slowly down.

Marco balled his hands at his side, waiting in anticipation for the freckled man to continue.

Instead of moving forward, Ace pushed himself up on to his feet. His eyes, dark with lust, lingered on Marco before turning away. He made his way into the connecting kitchen, making sure to sway his hips as he went.

Marco was confused as to what the man was doing. They had been moving on along when the boy suddenly stopped it.

The dark haired man was rummaging around his kitchen, opening cabinets and his refrigerator and pulling out items.

"A-Ace?"

Coming back, the freckled man flashed him a brilliant smile, waving a few objects in his face: whip cream, chocolate and a cherry.

"Can't have a birthday without cake and ice cream, now can you?"

Marco gulped at the implication. He actually meant to use that stuff on him? Goddamn…

Ace once again settled himself down in between the blond's legs. He tugged at the fabric of Marco's jeans, pulling them down all the way.

Ace grabs the whipped cream first. He douses the blond's member with the cool cream, taking pleasure in the blond's reaction.

Next he grabs the chocolate.

"Ace? Wait, yoi-"

Ace silences the protest upon the blond's lips with his own, kissing the man deeply. Pulling back, he flashes him what he hopes is a seductive look.

"Don't mind the mess," Ace whispers.

He then returns to what he was doing, drizzling the chocolate on to the whip cream. He finishes it off by placing the bright red cherry upon it.

"There we go," Ace grins up at the man. "Now its time for me to give you your treat."

Leaning forward, he gave the delicacy an experimental lick. Above him, he hears Marco suck in a breath, shuddering as he released it. Feeling confident, Ace went ahead engulfing as much of Marco as he could. The blond threw back his head, moaning out loudly.

Ace grinned around Marco's member. He couldn't believe he was doing this with the blond in his own apartment. He's liked Marco for as long as he could remember, since that first time all those years ago that he first saw him at Rayleigh's Bar. The man had been with a couple partners during those times, making it hard for him to even approach the blond. Now, of course, he was all his and no one else's.

He was beginning to feel quite possessive over the blond.

"God Ace," Marco moans, burying his hand in Ace's dark hair, leaning his head back against the couch's back.

Ace pulls back, cock slipping from his mouth with a loud wet pop. He sees the blond lift his head, blue eyes boring down on him in confusion.

"Let's not spoil the evening all in one go," Ace says simply, once again standing up.

He sees Marco watching him with all the want and need Ace could ever want swirling in his clear eyes.

"Why don't you come and get your present?" He suggests, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Ace walks backwards making sure to keep his eyes trained on the blond. As he knew he would, Marco got up, following after him. Smiling triumphantly, Ace turned around entering into his bedroom.

He was practically buzzing with pleasure and anticipation upon seeing the bed in his room. He was imagining all the things the blond could and would do to him on it.

There was no waiting anymore—he couldn't. Grabbing the ends of his shirt, he began to slowly peel off the fabric, beginning to lift the shirt up. A large warm hand stopped him in his place.

"Won't let me even unwrap my own present on my birthday?" the blond raised a brow.

Ace drops his shirt, letting the fabric cover him up again. "The pleasures all yours."

Slowly, inch-by-inch, Marco pulled off the freckled man's shirt, reveling at the sight of deliciously taught, tanned skin. He was aware the boy was looking at him, watching as he moved. Boldly, he met the man's eyes, holding them as he unbuttoned the boy's jeans, letting them fall to the floor at his feet.

When the man was completely naked, he paused, making sure to take in the sight with plenty of appraisal.

Ace could feel his cheeks heating up under the man's gaze. He forced himself to look away, shifting slightly on his feet.

He was caught by surprise when a hand suddenly pressed against his chest, pushing him back on to his bed. Immediately, Marco was upon him, leaning over him with an open smirk.

Ace could feel the bed dip beneath him as the blond climbed on. His heart was pounding with anticipation, swallowing thickly in realization of how close to the act they were getting.

Marco peered down at him. "Lube, yoi?"

"Bedside drawer, right side."

The bed again shifted as Marco reached over, rummaging around in his drawer. He came back, a bottle of lube in hand.

Ace spread his legs, caging them on either side of the blond. He nods hoping to press the man forward.

He hears a bottle snap open from above him, closing his eyes tightly as something cold entered him.

"M-Marco…" Ace pants as the man continued to prepare him.

Marco extracts his fingers, taking in the flushed appearance of the younger man.

"Marco," Ace says again.

Unable to resist, the blond leans in, eager to kiss the younger man, to have as much of him as he could. Ace stops him, however.

"W-wait."

It was Ace's turn to rummage through the bedside drawer, coming back with a small wrinkled package in his hand. Ace flashed him a smile.

"Better safe than sorry."

Relief as well as embarrassment washed over Marco like a tidal wave. He had completely forgotten about condoms. It was a small part of the whole thing, but also one of the most important. He was glad one of them had remembered. One could never be too careful.

He allowed the freckled man to put it on him, letting him slowly slide the plastic upon his length. Once he was covered, Ace finally allowed him to capture his soft lips in a kiss, putting all want and passion behind it. He nibbled at the man's bottom lip, taking the opportunity when he opened up to delve his tongue in. Marco used this moment of distraction to enter the younger man, slamming in to the hilt. Ace broke the kiss, gasping loudly.

"Ah, shit, Marco!"

He pulled out slowly before slamming back in—in and out. They set a steady rhythm—not fast, unhurried. Soon the sounds of their gasps and moans filled the room, boxing them into a world of their own. Neither one could see to stop—neither one wanted to. They were in it till the end, their finish fast approaching.

Ace came first, back arching, nearly screaming in ecstasy. Marco followed suit with a long, drawn out moan, which he attempted to bury in the younger man's dark hair.

"Fuck, Ace…"

Marco plopped on to the bed beside the freckled man.

They laid together trying desperately to catch their breaths.

"So," Ace starts, propping himself up on one elbow, looking down at the blond. "What do you think of your birthday now?"

Marco shuffled, chuckling lightly. "Better, yoi."

"Better?" Ace raises his brows, silently urging the man to go on.

"Amazing. Well, it certainly ranks well as far as one night stands go."

"A one night stand?" Ace pouts, sitting up and folding his arms over his chest.

Now it was Marco's turn to raise his brows, he, too, propping himself up on his elbows. "Isn't that what this was? You trying to comfort an old man on his birthday?"

"If that's all you want you want it to be," Ace says quietly. Marco could clearly hear the disappointment in his voice.

He stared at the dark haired man, realizing that he had ruined the moment. Guilt clawed at him worse than ever. Slowly and silently, Marco threw his legs over the side of the bed, letting his bare feet touch the cold floor.

"I don't care about it, you know?"

Marco looked over his shoulder, eyeing the freckled man who spoke quietly was currently looking down and away. No matter the angle, Marco knew there was no hiding the hurt look upon his freckled face.

"Your age," Ace continued.

"You don't, yoi?" Marco asks incredulously.

Ace shook his head. "Nope. Age is just a number. Besides, I wouldn't mind meeting up like this more than once. Maybe we could even, you know, go out for dinner some time." The dark haired man mumbles the last part, shrugging his freckled shoulders, sounding a bit hopeful.

Marco couldn't help the smile that came to him. "I wouldn't mind that, yoi."

Ace looked up at him in surprise. Then he smiles back cheerfully. "Good."

Marco allowed himself to be pulled back, wrapping the freckled man up into a warm embrace with both of them smiling contently.

"Happy Birthday, Marco."

Though the day hadn't turned out to be anything like he had been expecting, Marco had found himself pleasantly surprised. His family forgetting his birthday turned out to be a good thing. He would have to make sure to thank Thatch and Izo for taking him out to Rayleigh's that night. Without them, he probably wouldn't be here with Ace.

Oh, man…This was way more embarrassing than I had initially thought it was going to be. Oh, well. Here it is. Enjoy. Oh, and please review! Thank you!

Happy Birthday Marco!