Smoker glanced at the newest stack of reports dropped on his desk, bored. His Ensign gave him that disappointed look, and he rolled his eyes, his pen scratching away at the current piece of paperwork. 'Will they ever learn?' he muttered internally. Once he was sure Tashigi had left the room to tend to the rest of the crew instead of hovering over his shoulder to make sure he was working, he let himself leaf through the stack.
"Paperwork, paperwork, report, paperwork, new wanted posters, paperwork..." the Marine breathed, flipping through the stack with ease. "Paperwork, report, paperwork, memo, paperwork- wait, memo?" Slipping the smaller yellow slip from the stack, the smoke user skimmed it before almost tearing the thing up and chucking it out the window. It was one of those memos, the ones that they were seriously thinking of no longer sending to Smoker simply because it helped him avoid them.
'Chikao, what do you have planned,this time?' he mused. His ship's doctor was a menace, one of the few things in existence that the Marine avoided like the plague. The man was slippery, not to mention unnervingly stealthy and accurate with his needles. Smoker almost shuddered when he remembered how easy it had been for the older gentleman to single-handedly sedate a rampaging prisoner who had busted out of the brig a few months ago. Said 'doctor' had then gone though and assisted with the proper restraints to keep the beast of a man held utterly still and unable to do more then glower at the guards when they dropped him off at the nearest Marine base.
Then again, you need a certain measure of monstrosity in a doctor if you expect them to be able to enforce their treatment and care for Devil Fruit users; especially when working on the Stray Dog of the Marines. Smoker wasn't afraid, per say... That's what he kept telling himself, though with a man over 50 able to hypothetically walk up to, sedate, and restrain someone as strong as himself was an awe inspiring and worrisome fact. Didn't help matters that the smoke user might as well be the most loathed of all of Chikao's patients because of his keen ability to suddenly find something more important then a checkup, patch himself up well enough that no one notice he was hurt until he passed out at his desk in the middle of a conversation, or just flat out disappearing for a while until he had their word that he wouldn't be jumped and strapped to a cot in the infirmary the minute he got back on the ship.
The smoke user neatly tore the yellow slip of paper in two, which he then proceeded to crinkle up and set in his ashtray. One flick of his lighter later, he was watching the note curl and darken until in was simply a smoldering lump of ashes that looked enough like his cigar ash to throw them off the trail. If they knew that he knew, then they'd spring it early and any hope he had of slipping away would be thrown out the window. Speaking of windows...
"Oi, Smokey! Guess who~?" a very familiar voice chimed, two hands wrapping around his head from behind, covering his eyes. This was normal, sadly enough, which is why the Marine had resigned himself to leaving his windows open so he wouldn't have to bother with letting the brat in. He'd already tried just ignoring him or telling him to get lost, but both tactics failed miserably. He did not enjoy explaining the scorch marks Tashigi miraculously noticed the next day, so this made everything so much easier.
"Brat, what did I tell you about calling me that?"
"That is was degrading, annoying as hell, and the next time you heard me use the name 'Smokey' that you would personally kick my scrawny ass into the water and let me drown." The mirth in the fire user's tone was self evident as the hands moved away and the pirate sauntered over to the front of the desk, not in the least unnerved by the sharp eyes watching his every move. "What's gone and crawled up yours, Captain? You look like someone sent you a note saying you had 24 hours to live or something."
"Something like that..." the Marine conceded, glaring at the fire user, though his eyes held more of a thoughtful expression then malice. "Portgas, I need a favor."
"Oooooo, making deals with pirates, are we? I'm game. Though the price will depend on just what you're asking for," Ace smirked, leaning over the desk in his usual manner. Smoker scowled darkly at the pirate, really wishing his head could come up with a better plan. After a few seconds of coming up completely short and having Ace waiting eagerly for the task, the smoke user sighed through his nose.
"At 2:50, tomorrow, I need you to make a large diversion in that warehouse just up the waterline. Don't care what as long as you're not blasting civilians or my men, but draw as much attention as you can and make sure it looks bad enough to need medical staff to check people over. Keep them busy for as long as possible, 10 minutes if you can. Am I clear?" the Marine grunted calmly. This would be the easy part; negotiating with his 'lover' would not be.
"Hmmmm... A tall order, Captain. That's gonna cost you. I know how much you hate debts, so I'll name my price up front. I want to fuck you..." Ace's voice trailed off, his lips coming forward to brush over a pale ear softly before murmuring the rest. "...and I want you to be sober when I do. The whole time, foreplay to climax." Smoker still had trouble referring to this relationship as anything more then a casual fuck when they were too drunk or too emotional to care what was going on.
Ace saw the indecisive look on the smoke user's face as he moved back, and he understood it. Whenever they actually got together for a nice bang, which was all they ever did except fight or occasionally flirt, like right now, Smoker would always show up pretty drunk, and the fire user would always have a couple bottles of rum waiting. They wouldn't so much as touch one another until the Marine felt he was suitably smashed.
"You won't have to do anything, just sit back at let me work my magic once, then you can drink yourself away or leave. That's all I'm asking for," he murmured, tilting his head to meet Smoker's gaze. There was still hesitation in those gray eyes, but a resigned sigh and a nod came none the less.
"Fine... but only once and that is final," the smoke user growled, pinning Ace with a look that dared him to try saying otherwise. The pirate knew better then to argue; he was getting what he wanted, anyways. "And no, I am not telling you why, so don't bother asking..." Internally, the fire user cursed his 'bed-mate's' perceptiveness, and of course his secrecy, but kept himself calm and unaffected on the outside.
"Why, Smoker, I wouldn't dream of sticking my nose into your business! We only meet up for sex; what reasons would I have to take it deeper then that?" the pirate hummed, stretching his back leisurely. It was a lie and Ace knew it, but if this little lie let him stay with this man who was inadvertently getting lost on the way to his groin and winding up in his heart, he'd keep it up as long as he could. The scare with pneumonia and the feverish words the Marine had mumbled into his neck were enough for the fire user to know he wasn't the only one falling in over his head.
They were living lies, trying to protect themselves and anyone they were close to. This affair would hurt them if anyone found out, even if secrets weren't being exchanged. White Beard was a little more excepting then the fire user had expected him to be, content that nothing was being slipped to the enemy and that is son was happy, but nothing could make him believe that Smoker's head would be off his shoulders, or worse, if the Navy caught wind of this. But Ace kept coming craving more, pushing on those walls gently and watching them ware away t show the human hiding in smoke and bitterness. And the Marine kept coming back, drunk, yes, but he still came, still let his walls be broken down slowly, and even removed a few bricks himself.
This was their escape... A time to break away from the running and suspicions for a night before leaving a bottle of aspirin and waiting outside the window to see those pained steps leading to the shower and wanting to scoop those quivering legs up and douse that perfect body in tenderness and affection until the man was free of pains. A random place where duty could be left behind for a few hours and a carefully maintained facade could be dropped and not fear being hurt because of it while letting needs and wants be one and the same and warm arms, shielding arms, arms that held on until the first rays of sunlight peeked through the drapes, could sooth the chaos and anger and take away the heavy burden for one evening. They both knew this cruel world for what it was; had to fight and maim and sometimes kill to keep their own heads and their loved ones above water. But those evenings, after being given that rare change to caress instead of punch, kiss as opposed to kick, they could relax in someone else's arms and feel secure, like the world had stopped being a horrible place and they could be what they wanted to be and not what they needed to be. It was their oasis, a safe place way from the crushing reality, that they didn't want to admit they needed but couldn't live without, anymore. Ace knew this was a escape from the loneliness for them both, but out of all the little disappearances from his life he'd made before... He knew this one was one hiding spot he didn't want to give up, even if it cost him his head.