Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Smoker x Ace
Rating: NC-17 / M
Warnings: Language, violence and sex. All the good stuff.
Summary: Impel Down timeline; Smoker grudgingly closes off his sense of justice to save one man he shouldn't want to save.
Disclaimer: Characters from 'One Piece' series belong to Eiichiro Oda. I'm just borrowing them for fun, so don't sue, I don't have a penny. Original characters belong to me.
Author's notes: I'm glad you people enjoyed first part and that you find Smoker and Ace in character, they gave me some serious trouble, heh.
...
- VI -
There was a pause as Smoker stepped out of the shower in the tiny bathroom that his own cabin was next to. The silence seemed unnatural without the stream of mindless blabber the boy usually made; something he had grown used to. Smoker suspected that the quietness was caused by his own naked state and his thoughts were confirmed as he caught the boy's gaze watching him hungrily.
"That's a nasty scar you have there, junsho," Ace said finally and Smoker could not stop himself from glaring at the boy's image in the mirror. The pirate boy seemed to stare at his back; his eyes trailing the long, irregular scar running down from the left shoulder blade to the low dip in his back. He vaguely thought that the boy should have already noticed it earlier. On the other hand, it was an old and faded scar; not something you could see if you didn't look for it.
"That's what I get for chasing your kind to the Grandline and back," he snorted, wiping off the steam that had gathered on the surface of the mirror. He put some shaving cream on his face and paid extra care to the movement of his razor. "Sometimes they leave souvenirs that I can remember them by."
The last few words were kind of muttered as he focused on the blade dangerously close to his throat. The moment of well-learned precision was shattered when a pair of strong arms wound around his waist from behind and his hand twitched. The movement was just enough for the edge of the razor to cut the rough skin and Smoker couldn't help but to growl in annoyance.
"What do you think you're doing, you fucking brat?" He watched their reflections with resignation as a thin crimson trail slid down his throat. That cut was going to sting like a bitch for the rest of the day. Ace was smirking at him from above his shoulder.
"Nothing…" He paused for a dramatic effect as he used the corner of the towel to wipe the foam from around the cut even if it didn't stop bleeding. Somehow Portgas managed to twist himself around Marine's body, so he was willingly trapped between the older man and the bathroom's sink. "Just giving you something to remember me by."
Smoker did not have time to react, and truth to be told he wouldn't even if he could. Ace quickly leaned in and ran his tongue over the cut, leaving it stinging and clean as he lapped on the warm skin. Smoker growled, but didn't push the pirate boy away. His reflection in the mirror stared at him accusingly as he wondered if Portgas would be the death of him one day.
- VII -
Half and hour after they had set sail and left Impel Down, Smoker was in his cabin, reading the detailed report on Blackbeard's nomination into the ranks of Shichibukai when shouts of his men disturbed the silence.
When Yamada and his men carried Ace to the ship, still in the seastone shackles to keep away captain's Bohn suspicions. The pirate boy was still unconscious as they brough him on board. The commodore dealt with paperwork, not very pleased that he had to leave his name as the proof of the shady dealings Garp had manipulated him into. He understood it, of course; he never was a believer of Absolute Justice, as he had proven many times. Garp was, despite his awkwardness that was a characteristic for the D. family, a man with sharp mind and good instincts. Killing Whitebeard's commander was a declaration of war and if he could give his grandson some time before the execution things were bound to change... one way or another.
After hearing the shouts Smoker didn't even had to think where to go, his feet lead him on their own and he couldn't help but to curse the pirate brat in his mind. Leaving the Marine prison was an easy part; the real problems started when Fire-fist woke up.
Making his way through the crowd of his men, sometime billowing into smoke to save himself trouble, he was in the infirmary in a matter of few moments. The sight that greeted him caught him by surprise for a split second, then his expression hardened and he cursed again, this time out loud.
Tashigi had her katana raised and ready to strike while his men held their guns with unsure hands and casting looks from their captain to Tashigi and back to the infirmary bed. Smoker didn't really know how, but the pirate boy managed to attack one of his crew even with room full of Marines and currently held Yamada as a hostage with a pair of sharp, medical scissors snatched from the nearby tool tray pointed dangerously close to doctor's throat.
Portgas was squeezed into the corner of the infirmary bunk, shielding the space before him with other's body. The boy's eyes were clouded, almost unseeing, exactly like the time Ace assaulted him in the Impel Down cells.
"What's going on here?" He demanded, finally shaking off his thoughts and standing next to Tashigi.
"I don't know, sir. He got aggressive when he woke up." Tashigi shook her head nervously. "I don't think he knows what's going on, sir."
"I..." Yamada tried to speak up even as the tip of the scissors pressed against his skin as Ace's hand twitched at the sound of his voice. "I gave him really strong painkillers before he woke up, that combined with everything else probably makes him unaware of--" He stopped as the pressure of the tool against his skin threatened to break the surface and shed blood.
"Everyone out!" Smoker yelled at his men who, he had to give them credit, barely jumped at the sound of his angry tone and listened to the direct order immediately. "That goes for you too, Tashigi."
"But--"
"Out. Now." Smoker was not a man to repeat himself and she knew it perfectly well; She sheathed her sword and cast one last, unsure glance at her captain she retreated from the infirmary with rest of the crew.
Smoker turned back to the bunk and glared angrily at Ace. He proceeded to slowly light up his cigars, as if it was the most natural course of action when one of your men is being held captive and his life rested on your hands. Smoker scowled at the thought.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, you fucking brat?" Smoker was half disappointed at the lack of the fire appearing in front of him out of nowhere and lightening up his cigars. It was an annoying trick that the boy used to do all the time and Smoker had grown used to whenever Portgas was around. "I drag myself across the sea to save your sorry ass from that fucked up place and you repay me by attacking my crew?"
He knew he had to keep talking. While the boy was focused on his voice and movement he had already send few tendrils of his smoke coiling on the infirmary floor and crawling cautiously forward, beyond Ace's field of vision. They moved quickly and efficiently, as was Smoker's way to deal with crisis situations.
"Have they completely knocked out the rest of the brain cells you doubtfully had so far? Because I could swear you weren't so stupid to try such tricks before."
He almost hissed as one of his smoke tendrils collided with something laying haphazardly on the floor; the smoke recoiled against his will and Smoker casted a quick glance on the offending item. Yamada must have tossed the seastone shackles away once he finally wrestled them off. He looked at the angry red marks on Ace's wrist and neck, where the shackles had lingered on his skin for weeks and probably would not disappear for long time. The cuffs had a number painted on them and Smoker decided for a risky move.
"Get a grip on yourself, number sixty-seven."
The number must have triggered something in Ace's mind because the boy hesitated, his hand inching away the dangerous tool away from Yamada's throat for a brief moment. That moment was enough for Smoker to command his logia and the smoke whip leashed towards Portgas's wrist, giving Yamada time to twist away from his grasp.
"Out." Smoker growled while reining in the struggling pirate. Much to his surprise, even without his logia Ace managed to wrestle him back a step. "Don't come back until I call for you."
Yamada added no further comment and Smoker was grateful for that. He could hear the murmur of relived voices from his crew when the doctor left the room and closed the door behind him.
Using more of his logia to wrench the scissors from pirate's hand he realized it was not the physical strength that powered up Ace's movements; it was something more in the shape of despair, stubbornness and unguarded, raw need to fight back whatever was threatening him. Smoker knew that there was no way that in his current condition Ace had any strength to oppose him as an equal, not with the seastone sickness forming in his body.
He grabbed both of Portgas's wrists, using his hands this time and pinned the boy back to the mattress. Ace yelped in pain again, albeit a bit softer then some time ago in the prison's cells.
"Portgas, snap out of it!" Smoker could feel that skin beneath his fingers burning with inner warmth that had nothing to do with pirate's logia. It was the bad kind of heat, the sick and alien heat that Ace did not know. A twisted kind of heat that made him feverish and Ace's body did not even remember what it was like to actually have a fever. It made him see and hear things that were not there. Made him remember things he tried to push away.
"Portgas!" Smoker called out to him, hoping to break through the haze of the confused senses like he had done in Impel Down but there was no understanding in boy's eyes. "For fuck's sake, wake up! Ace!"
The sound of his name must have struck a familiar memory because some kind of recognition dawned on those dark eyes and Ace stopped trying to fight off the restless grip on his wrists.
Smoker made a mental note of calling Ace with his given name more often, at least for the next couple of days, if he snaps again.
Fire-fist's breath was labored and he seemed unable to catch a deep breath even though he was struggling to do so. Smoker knew the symptoms of sea sickness very well; he had been through it more then enough times in his younger years to recognize them on spot. He let go of the abused wrists, glad that the boy did not try to assault him again. Ace tried to say something but his voice was croaked and rough from not using it in a long time. Nothing came from between the parted lips and Ace frowned, as if facing an inner dilemma then tried again.
"Junsho?"
There was something desperate in the sound of that voice, something that pleaded for confirmation as Ace tiredly closed his eyes.
"Yeah, it's me, you stupid brat." The last insult was whispered out almost affectionately, if Smoker was the type to actually be emotional. "Will you finally calm down and let my doctor take a look at you? Don't think I'm not going to throw you overboard later for scaring the daylights out of Tashigi and Yamada."
Ah, there it was. A ghost of a smirk appeared on pirate's lips as he slipped back into the comfortable world of unconsciousness.
- VIII -
He watched the pirate boy spar with one of his men, a somehow playful brawl with rest of his crew cheering no side in particular. It was a quiet moment just before sunset and the sky was slowly setting into orange and red hues as the sun shifted towards the horizon. His work was done for a day; the reports had been read and signed, newspaper articles relevant to Marines were checked, and a new list of bounties was updated. Smoker wasn't very pleased to find that Portgas's bounty had been raised again, though he was sure the boy would be ecstatic once he learned about the fact.
Smoker was leaning against the railing on the upper deck, having set a new course for his ship and now he watched the fight with a mildly amused expression.
At some point of the evening Tarou, one of Smoker's strongest men and a skilled carpenter, had challenged Ace into a duel. Portgas hadn't even tried to use his logia, knowing fully well that the Commodore would probably skin him alive if he accidentally set fire to his ship or burned any of his men... again.
But it seemed that Ace didn't need his logia to easily overpower his opponent. Where he lacked physical strength he made up with agility and flexibility, easily avoiding the hard blows and dodging any incoming attacks. He swiftly moved away from next punch and twisted around until he was behind the carpenter, using basic gravity to push on Tarou's back and making the man twice his size stumble and nearly fall on his face like a graceless log. The crowd around them boomed with laughter as Ace crouched almost like a feline ready to pounce again and smirked at his victory.
There was a certain amount of foolish bravery in the boy, but at the same time he had at least enough brains not to leap into the battles he could not win. Also, unlike most of the scum that called themselves pirates, he knew how to approach his targets with proper strategies.
Why exactly Whitebeard had given him such a high rank was still beyond him, but Smoker could admit that no matter how much he hated pirates, he could not deny one simple truth.
Edward Newgate was not a stupid man.
If he was he would have never lasted long enough in this era. To survive and to rule over the New World he had to know where his loyalties were and who he could trust, if he was actually capable of trusting anyone other then himself. If he had made Portgas one of his most trusted men then Smoker had no reason to believe the boy would ever give his captain a reason to doubt him. That is, until the time will come where Newgate will encounter a small ship with crew of only few people and insane, rubber-made captain...
Ace glanced around quickly, finally spotting the grey-haired man on the upper deck and flashed him a smile. Smoker watched as the carpenter used that exact moment to grab surprised boy in the armlock, smirking as Ace flailed his arms in futile attempt to free himself. Another wave of laughter shook the deck as Tarou grinned in triumph.
"Oi, captain!" He grinned as he called towards Smoker, still not letting the struggling pirate free. "Can you stop distracting my opponent?"
His men laughed as he lazily blew out a small cloud of smoke and grinned back.
- IX -
A day and a half after they had left Impel Down prison Ace was still unconscious.
As Yamada had reported to him, the boy was shifting in and out of a state similar to consciousness, but he was not exactly awake. The elderly doctor had kept all the sharp objects out of the pirate's reach just in case, but so far nothing was indicating that he would wake up soon.
Smoker was a little unsettled by this news, but his rationality knew better. It took time to get over the seastone sickness and there was no definite cure for it. He had been through that particular illness enough times during his years as a Devil Fruit user and he knew the side effects were nasty enough to keep even the strongest of people chained to bed and weak as a baby.
It was back then when he was stationed in Impel Down as a rookie; all of the Marine newcomers had to stay in that prison at some point, to learn what Absolute Justice meant. For Smoker, whose logia was still fresh and unsettled, the whole experience was more about learning how not to throw up on the high-ranked officers as they came to inspect his work while the sea pressure made him nauseous. He also had one week of his life ripped from his mind and completely blank as the fever and sickness made him unable to be stationed in Impel Down any longer. Yamada had later explained to him that zoan and logia type Devil Fruit users suffered from seastone sickness more then paramecia, even though the basics of that knowledge was yet to be researched.
The state his body was in did not help him to get better fast.
During the previous day Yamada, after drinking enough green tea to calm himself after the pirate's assault, finally had a chance to look at the full extent of Portgas's injuries. Smoker was there, watching and waiting.
Both Smoker and Yamada knew the laws that reigned in Impel Down. Every man for himself and everyone looked only after their own backs. Apart from the colorful set of bruises on most part of his body there were some more severe injuries that the boy seemed to acquire during the weeks of imprisonment. Even before the examination Smoker knew he had broken ribs; he could see it by the way Ace moved when he was still conscious and also by the way he cried out when his back hit harder surfaces. Upon a closer look he could see three thin irregular scars running down from the bridge of his nose and sidelong his right cheek He made a mental note to ask about them later.
When Yamada and his assistant moved the brat onto his side Smoker could see something that actually made him frown. He did not care about Ace's damn tattoo, quite the opposite, but he knew how much stupid pride the boy held in that mark. Right then it was impossible to make out what it used to look like. It now sported a long and fresh gash running over it, destroying Whitebeard's wide grin upon Portgas's back. Yamada cast a worried look at his Commodore. He too knew the importance of the tattoo. The wound was not healing well either, so the doctor proceeded with cleaning it immediately.
They discovered many smaller cuts and bumps later on, most of them minor and Yamada paid them only minimum attention they required. The examination stopped at Ace's arms and hands and Yamada scowled when they found dislocated joints and, much to his and Smoker's surprise, burn scars.
- X -
If there was anything at all that Smoker learned from his poor excuse of a father, it was to never, under any circumstances, waste good alcohol.
Sitting in the comfortable chair in his cabin he raised the glass to his eyes, rays of fading sunlight shining through the deep amber of the best brand of East Blue whiskey. Thinking back to his younger years Smoker could recall his father doing the exact gesture in his own office, on those rare occasions that he was actually allowed inside. His father, the great Marine general, used to smile when light shone gently through the cut glass.
"Son," he used to say. "There are plenty of things that can let you down in life. Women might leave you, crews may betray you, and ships may sink. But if a man can have one constant in his life, it would be good liquor."
Smoker sighed at the memory, tipped his glass and took a sip, allowing the taste to fill his mouth, the alcohol as bitter as the memories that haunted him that night.
"You look like you've just been promoted. Why the long face, junsho?"
Smoker twirled his glass as he looked at the pirate boy who had just arrived into the cabin after plundering through his ship's galley, no doubt. He did not reply, settling for snorting in annoyance and carefully placing the glass on his desk.
He didn't notice a pair of arms reaching around him from behind his chair, but didn't jump in surprise as they winded around his neck and chest and Ace placed his lips in the juncture of his shoulder and neck. The boy must have taken a shower recently because his hair pressed against his cheek was soft and smelled clean with the mixture of soap and herbs that Yamada made for all of his crew.
Maybe it was because of the alcohol, tiredness, and bad memories, but the world around Smoker gradually turned softer then it used to. He turned his head and started to kiss the pirate slowly, opening him up to his touch. Ace let out a quiet whimper as he kissed back and with no real fight for dominance allowed the white hunter to explore his mouth.
A few moments later they were already on Smoker's bed and the Marine was kissing Ace into oblivion. Smoker vaguely recalled that he did not cork back that whiskey bottle and it would loose some of its taste if let in open air for too long. As he pressed the willing pirate boy into his mattress and those slim legs hooked around his waist Smoker decided he might just let it go this one time.
- IX -
Five days after leaving Impel Down Smoker took the night watch shift.
It somehow became a habit for Smoker to do that when he could not sleep. Usually there was no particular reason; he wasn't tired after the day's work and took over responsibilities of their navigator, offering his men a chance to catch some extra sleep. Those were quiet and lazy nights, but Smoker could not afford when he was still on duty and lately it felt like he was on duty twenty-four seven.
The night wind was icy and fierce, a clear sign they were sailing close to a winter island. He double-checked their coordinates and locked the steering wheel on their course, heading slowly to Loguetown. The Marine had no real idea what was going to happen next, the clues given to him by Garp went only to the point where he actually got his grandson away from that damn prison. What did the Vice-Admiral expect him to do afterwards?
Leaning over the railing he looked down on the lower deck. It usually was lively and full of people, but now it was ghastly empty. Smoke curled lazily around him as he inhaled his cigars.
He already had set the slowest speed possible making their journey longer, but eventually they would reach Loguetown's port and then what? Was he supposed to hand over Portgas to other Marines? Technically speaking he was still in charge of the city, which made things even more complicated.
Should he wait then? Smoker was not a patient man and simply hoping for a change was not in his nature. He made things happen, not waiting passively and hoping for the best. Should he allow Portgas to run away like he had done a couple of times during their shared past?
His cigar flicked and the fire went dead, subdued by the icy wind. Smoker simply sighed and patted his pockets looking for a lighter.
"You know, usually I would flick my fingers and they would be lit in a second. Sorry, but I don't think I can provided that service now, junsho."
Smoker looked around to stare at the entrance to the lower levels, already knowing who had disturbed his silent night.
Ace was leaning on the doorframe supporting his weight as his knees were dangerously close to giving up. He had the infirmary's blanket draped over his shoulders in haphazard manner. Smoker waited patiently until he caught his breath, weak after weeks of illness eating away his strength and eventually came to stand next to him, grabbing the railway to stop his world from spinning.
"What are you doing up, brat? If you collapse here I'm not dragging your sorry ass back to bed."
Ace smirked, or at least it was a ghost of his usual smirk and Smoker frowned.
"And here I thought you actually like having me in your bed." Ace gasped as he leaned over the railway as his ribs protested at the change of position. "But I suppose I'm not in my most attractive state right now."
It was so casual, so normal between them that Smoker almost forgot that something was wrong. Almost.
"I just couldn't sleep." Ace started talking again before Smoker actually had a chance to say anything. "And I needed some fresh air. Gods know I could use some."
The boy actually chuckled at the thought; it was easier to turn everything into joke than actually admit that there were more things wrong with his body and mind than he could handle right then.
"You're shaking."
Ace raised his brows in surprise, quickly glancing at his own arms and hands to notice their trembling.
"Oi" He said sounding surprised. "I thought I got used to feeling cold by now. You know junsho it actually is weird, feeling cold after years of not having to worry about it."
Smoker did not reply having found his lighter finally and flicking the flame to light up his cigar once again.
"Back into the world of the living, huh?"
It was not a question more of a whispered statement and Smoker glanced at the pirate boy who was looking straight ahead at the waves. The grayish tinge still didn't leave his skin and dark circles under his eyes were proof of his lack of real rest. Angry red and purple bruises marked him all over. Smoker could not stop staring at the dark circles of damaged skin, where seastone rested for weeks. The kid looked older somehow, and was thinner than Smoker used to remember. There was some unreadable emotion in his eyes, but at least his hands stopped shaking after a while.
"I think I could use a shower." Ace murmured finally, looking back at the Marine. "And then you could feed me, I guess?"
Smoker let out an amused snort. Some things never changed.