"I want to touch it."
"Don't you dare," Ace's voice is the highest Sabo's ever heard it, aghast and panicked, and his hands cross to try and ineffectually shove his cock back into the slit it had dropped from without physically touching it. Sabo's eyes track the way it moves, drips, the physical evidence that watching Marco come undone was enough to arouse Ace. "What if it kills you? We have no idea what this is, what it could do to you!"
Sabo snorts and barely manages to hold back his tongue; it'd be so easy to say I can think of what I'd like it to do. Or even just to say, isn't it obvious, what that is? "Then let Marco touch it. It's not like he can die."
"You know that fact is fucking depressing, right? It's not ammunition for this." Marco scowls, but Sabo's more focused on the fact that he isn't looking at either of them. Or, specifically, he can't look at Ace. His eyes keep sliding away, anguish and fear carefully hidden but oh-so-visible to someone who makes his livelihood watching for where people's sleeves have holes.
"Marco," Sabo says, letting it escape on a half-breath, knowing what it does to Marco's self-control. "Please? Touch him."
"It's-" Marco starts, and he bites his lip, the corner of his mouth tight with disgust. Sabo clicks his tongue.
"It's Ace. Ace's cock, slick and wet for us. Don't you want to touch Ace? "
A soft whine slips from Marco's lips, pretty and pained, and vicious victory makes Sabo bare his teeth.
"Sabo-" Ace says, but a look silences him, guilty wanting blatant on his face. Marco takes a step towards him, hands outstretched, palms up.
"Ace," he starts, his eyes on Ace's face, watching for fear, and thus Sabo is the only one to see Ace's slit drip slick down his thigh, abdomen tightening in a vain effort to stop it. "Can I-?"
"You want him to touch you, Ace? Miss Marco's hands on you?"
Another breathless whimper escapes Ace's lips, and he squeezes his eyes shut, the bare hint of tears on his eyelashes. "I- miss you guys," he says, the words like a curse, turned in on himself like the blade of a knife. "But I can't- I can't, this- I can't want you, I can't want- want this, expect you to want- and it feels awful. That I- I'm a monster and, hey, fucking- fucking great! I look like one now too."
"Idiocy aside," Sabo says through bared teeth, "actually, no, wait. All of that was idiotic. Fuck, Ace." He wishes he were allowed to touch. Knows Ace needs it like he needs air right now, but in this body, in this headspace- Sabo'd be burned faster than the Celestial Dragons had done it, and he's not the part of this relationship that's fireproof. " Ace, " he says, stepping as close as he dares, hands over Ace's cheeks but not touching, so careful not to touch until Ace drops his head into Sabo's hands and lets him close. "I swear, I fucking swear, none of this changes who you are, or who you are to us. You need to talk to us when you feel this shit. Let us know so we can help you. And, wanting? God, how could I not want you, no matter what you look like? I was so lucky to get you, you think I'm giving you up, what, just because your spunk is blue now?"
Ace laughs, wet and jolting, but Sabo can feel his mouth twisting into a grin, and pushes forward to kiss Ace's forehead and his jaw. "None of this changes who you are. Which is our stupid-"
" Kind, " Marco stresses, and Sabo feels Ace laugh again, painful.
"-beautiful boyfriend. And this is shit, and it sucks, and I hate seeing you...hate what you look like, when you just started feeling proud of it, of yourself. I hate that for you. But I swear to God that none of this changes how much we want you. So let me try and fix at least part of this, huh?"
Ace laughs again, sort of, the sound so brutal that it tears Sabo to shreds, and Sabo holds his hand back, waiting till Marco lays his fingers to Sabo's palm. He curls his hand in and brings Marco close, shifting their positions so he's watching, so Marco can touch. So Marco can remember that this is Ace, theirs, and Ace has been waiting.
"Touch him," says Sabo, body thrumming with eager energy, and Marco reaches out to let his fingertips graze Ace's hip. Bereft of touch for weeks, Ace shivers, lovely and sensitive, already weak.
"Ace," Marco murmurs, pained and slow at the touch of ridges and fur instead of skin. "I just- want this to be good for you."
"Please," Ace whispers, his eyes squeezed shut, and Sabo catches the moment that Marco's self-control snaps. Ace's shaking voice, his trembling vulnerability has worn down Marco's fine-handed control, and Marco's never been very good at resisting that particular teary tone.
Ace moans and lets his knees buckle as Marco's hand wraps around his cock, the slick squelch of cum making Sabo's eyes go wide.
"Well?" he demands, eager and angry. "Think you're dying?"
"See I can't decide whether to mock you about dying to touch him, or say that I always think I'm dying when I get the privilege to touch either of you, yoi."
"Question answered, sass unappreciated," Sabo shoots back, but he's already on his knees and burying his face in Ace's dripping slit. His tongue makes Ace moan and drive his hips into Sabo's eagerly waiting mouth.
Fire races along his scalp as Marco tugs him back by a firm grip in his hair. Sabo almost moans at the feeling of fingers tangled harshly and pulling, but has the strength to glare instead. Marco glares right back. "Just because it's not dangerous to touch doesn't mean you can go and ingest it!"
Sabo licks his lips, feeling sticky liquid drip from his eyelashes and down his cheeks. "You're saying you wouldn't heal me?"
"I can't fix stupidity."
"Stupid fools are generally the happiest," Sabo says, and licks his lips again, his eyes on Ace. "And I was happy with my tongue in Ace's cunt."
Oh, wrong word. Well, the right one for Ace; he flushes red and pretty, ashamed of his arousal, but Marco's face immediately shifts to his stern doctor face. He frowns as he studies Ace clinically, and Sabo has to stifle a groan.
"Don't-" he warns, ready for Marco to start talking about genitalia and medical terminology, but then Marco sticks two fingers into Ace and curls his hand against the front of Ace's slit, rubbing at it firmly with the heel of his palm. Ace howls, the sound cracking as it falls out of him. Sabo's eyes go wide at the sound, and Marco takes the time to look at him.
"What?" he says at the sight of Sabo's expression. "I wanted to see if he had a clit," Marco grins, just small, cheeky and mean, "and all the nerve endings attached."
"By that noise, what do you think of the theory?" Sabo says breathlessly, but Marco's answer gets drowned out by Ace's tearful pleads. Marco runs his thumb along the front of Ace's dripping slit, and Ace drops hard into his hand with a half-broken sob, hands clutching Marco's shoulders, claws igniting pinpricks of blue fire. Slick gushes down his legs. A puddle of blue forms by Ace's feet, and Marco carefully lowers him to sit, Sabo's eyes focused on Ace's twitching cock.
"Seriously, Marco-" he says, unable to stop the whine slipping into his tone. Ace looked so beautifully dazed, responding so easily to just the most minimal, perfunctory of touches, and Sabo's body burns with the desire to get his mouth on Ace.
"Just-" Marco sighs, then pulls his dripping fingers from Ace's cunt, licking off the blue liquid before sucking his fingers into his mouth, following every trail over his palm till his hand gleamed with saliva. Sabo watches as his clever tongue tracks every droplet, and then watches him lick his lips and pause, swallowing contemplatively a few times. An eternity later, stretched somehow to fit into a single moment, Marco nods. "If it was going to kill you-"
"Then I'll die happy," Sabo retorts, recognising acquittal for what it was. "Ace?" he asks, careful permission, and Ace throws his arm over his eyes before he nods, unable to look at them.
"Pretty boy," Marco murmurs, and Sabo scowls, his hands against Ace's thighs, pushing them down and open. Ace's cock twitches, leaking onto his belly.
"Perfect is what you should say," he snarls, and gets to eager work. This time, he finally has access to Ace's cock, and it's more than easy to take it into his mouth, licking and licking as it squirms against his mouth. It's odd, to have an appendage this- alive, in his mouth, but it's fascinating too. Feeling it writhe against his tongue, his mouth, and then suddenly, down his throat. He chokes at the sudden, surprising intrusion, and instinct makes him jerk back, gagging.
Ace and Marco make upset noises, worried protest starting on their tongues, but Sabo can see it coming - bares his teeth and takes Ace in his mouth again, so that at the very least Ace's words turn into a choked wail.
It doesn't help that this is good. Heavy and slick on his tongue, and it tastes like Ace but it moves, the bluntly tapered tip fucking the back of his throat hard. He chokes again, this time against the tide of want in his belly, digging his hands into the flesh of Ace's thighs.
The narrowing tip makes it easier for Sabo to sink down on Ace's cock, his bottom lip pressed against the top of Ace's slit, the wet touch near beckoning, begging for his tongue, but his tongue is pressed flat and only his hands are free.
But oh the noise Ace makes when Sabo touches him. His palm goes wet, and then he can feel the way Ace's cock pulses, hear Ace choking off his name, and then his mouth is filled with Ace's taste and he's swallowing hard, desperate, as Ace comes down his throat.
He pulls back to heave in a hard gasp, and Ace's cum drips off his tongue even as more splatters against his face and throat. He swallows the last of it, wipes the excess out of his eyes, and grins at Ace.
"How was that?" he asks, and Ace gives a pathetic whimper, his hands pressed over his eyes. Sabo clambers over him to press kisses to his broad throat, then against his mouth, pulling Ace's hands away from his eyes. "Well?" he demands, grinning, and Ace manages the weakest glare Sabo's ever seen, fingers curling against Sabo's hand.
"Fucker," he breathes, and Sabo fakes a longing sigh.
"I would love to, baby," he says. "But considering how it felt just to suck your cock - you have no idea how excited I am to have you in me."
Ace squeezes his eyes shut again and whines quietly, and Sabo's heart catches at the sight of glimmering tears in Ace's eyes.
"Ace?" he asks, but Ace shakes his head and breathes deeply; one, two, three, before he can peel his eyes open and look at Sabo. Wanton and weak, so sweetly vulnerable, wanting so badly, it catches in Sabo's stomach and hurts. Ace is so afraid of his wanting, afraid the same way he was back when this was new. Afraid of himself and how he felt, afraid of being selfish because he loved too much, too fast, too deeply.
Afraid that his wanting - his desire, his heart, his body - would disgust them.
And oh, it's odd to be the one without issues in this situation. To know both Ace and Marco are terrified of wanting this; Marco because he felt attraction so rarely, and to be attracted to this immediately but not to Ace when they'd first been together likely felt like a disservice; and Ace, terrified because this was like every bad dream he'd ever had, every self-image issue compounded and coupled with self-disgust because he didn't believe he could ask them to like this. Nor did he believe that - considering the damage he'd already accidentally caused with newfound strength and claws - his new body was done surprising him with terrible things, and that (even with evidence proving otherwise) he'd hurt Marco or Sabo.
It was odd to be the better one, for once; the one without fear and harsh reality making things gain sharper edges.
But how could he be afraid? This was Ace, pure and simple - in every gesture, every word, every worry, this was Ace. Why would he have any reason to fear Ace? And to fear Ace within this confine - built through years of trust and Sabo's snark and their unwavering trust in each other, how could Sabo ever be afraid of Ace hurting him?
"You couldn't hurt me if you tried," Sabo says, but shares a look with Marco and is thankful Marco seems to pick up what he's asking. Marco takes Ace's hands, slides down his palm to his wrist, then grips and pulls them to his lap. "I'm gonna ride you and it's gonna feel so fucking good, baby. You're gonna make me feel so good. Do you want that? Want me to feel good?"
Ace's agreement is strangled, pleading, his eyes desperate, and Sabo squirms out of his pants with far less grace than he'd normally display. "This is gonna feel so good," he promises, and doesn't specify who it will feel good for. If he even insinuates that Ace will be the one benefiting from this- well. Ace is more than strong enough to throw them off and go hide for weeks.
But right now he's so pliant...fuck it's good. Ace's hands are trembling just slightly in Marco's grip as Sabo strokes his cock, the cool flesh fascinatingly different from how hot Ace normally is, and were it not for his promises he'd absolutely have it back in his mouth, exploring each inch with his tongue. As it is, he wasn't lying about being eager for Ace to fuck him.
Good things come to those who ask.
