I know, it's been a while since I posted the first chapter. I'm sorry for the wait, but I can't promise I'll update soon. I probably won't. Summer doesn't sit well with me and I become somewhat of a zombie thanks to the heat. Right now I'm almost falling asleep despite having slept enough tonight and it has taken a lot of effort to edit the couple of things I had to edit here before posting.

If you find anything that doesn't make sense, please point it out to me.

Chapter revised by Aerle :)

Chapter 2

To say Ace is nervous would be a very serious understatement. He has knelt facing the mysterious man to start the fire, that had been the only reasonable option if he wanted to keep the blond in sight, but now he is not so sure that was a good idea. The man has been staring at him like a hawk all the time, blue eyes fixed on Ace and everything he has done, and the boy could swear he saw the man jump when he switched the lighter on to light the pile of wood and dry leaves.

Now there is the issue of dinner, and it's obvious he will have to feed his uninvited guest. Going for his satchel bag, where he has a good amount of canned and otherwise packed to last food, he pulls out a can of sausages and another one of sliced tomatoes and goes to sit next to the man. On the next rock. He's not very comfortable about being with a naked man he isn't about to fuck nor has he any relationship with. A hot naked man, he has had the time to check.

Ace will probably have to lend the man some clothes. That could be a problem. Resisting the urge to evaluate the likelihood of that working while the blond has nothing to distract him and will, undoubtedly, notice if Ace looks at him too much or too closely, he pulls out his Swiss army knife, searches for the can opener and opens both cans, leaving them on the empty space of the rock he is sitting on as he remembers a little detail.

He almost accidentally cuts the finger that appears out of nowhere to poke at the can opener with the blade of the knife when he tries to fold it back. Luckily for both parties involved, he manages to react in time and halt his movements — because the last thing he needs is to have to heal a cut, and that would be if the man has good reflexes, which Ace doubts given what has just almost happened.

Ace glares at the man, who ignores him in favor of poking around at the can opener before moving curiously to the other tools. No, not curiously. The man is fascinated. He reminds Ace disturbingly of how a little boy looks when he discovers a new toy.

"What, you never seen a can opener?" he snaps at the blond, pulling the knife back and closing it. The dejected look that crosses the man's face almost makes him feel bad enough to open the knife again and hand it over. He's not about to give a weapon to a total stranger.

Instead, Ace stands up, stuffs it back in his pocket and goes back to the satchel bag. He doesn't have to rummage long to find his second canteen —that is full because he makes a point of having both canteens filled with water all the time— and walks back to his place.

Ace hands the canteen over as he sits down, and the blond takes it hesitantly, turning it around in his hands.

"It's not poisoned, you know," he snaps again, but of course the other can't understand him and continues to examine his canteen.

Ace takes the cans and turns to the man, intent on somehow get across the message of 'eat, but leave at least two thirds of each to me cause I'm fucking hungry' when he is struck immobile by what he sees; the man is still slowly spinning the canteen in his hands as he stares and pokes at it and, contrary to Ace's first thought, he isn't suspicious. He looks as fascinated as he did with the knife moments ago.

What the-?

This is a little too much for Ace. The incident before was weird, but there was a small possibility that the man —a man lost in a cave in the middle of the forest, but well— had never seen one of those. But a canteen? This is plan ridiculous. He wonders if the man hit his head and now has lost all memory or something like that. But no, a look at the blond's mostly bald head —and isn't that a strange hairstyle?— proves that there is no wound that would support that theory.

Maybe whatever is wrong with the man has nothing to do with an accident. The behavior he is displaying is oddly childish, but Ace has absolutely no knowledge of psychology and can't even attempt to guess what the problem might be. But that there is a problem could help explain why the blond was in that cave —and naked no less— in the first place. He must have got lost. Not long ago because he presents no signs of malnourishment whatsoever —and he might have given the man another cursory once over just to be sure of that fact.

Perhaps there is another entrance to the cave somewhere else in the forest and that is how he got there —because Ace has serious doubts believing the bright light and blue giant bird have anything to do with it and, being back in his camp, no longer is sure he actually saw that— and the man's things are there. Perhaps his companions, too, because Ace can't believe someone like the blond, with his inability to speak coherently and obvious lack of knowledge of any survival skills, could be here on his own.

This realization has Ace change his mind and makes him feel a pang of guilt crawl in his gut, because he has been snapping and annoyed at a man who isn't at fault for not being able to understand all these things that for Ace are so simple.

He carefully places the cans back down and takes his other canteen from his belt. When Ace taps the blond man on the shoulder, he isn't startled, which makes the younger one wonder if the blond was as distracted as he seemed to be by his inspection. Ace points at the canteen he is holding.

The man stares fixedly as Ace, deliberately very slowly, uncaps the canteen, brings it up to his lips and takes a small sip from it —small because he isn't thirsty and is simply showing the other what he is supposed to do.

Ace has to give it to the man, he is a fast learner. He had expected to have to repeat the process various times, but it seems the blond has understood, because now he is the one uncapping his canteen and bringing it to his lips. The dark haired man knows the exact moment the water touches the other's lips because a surprised expression crosses the man's face, and then he is drinking as if he hadn't done so in years. He probably has been lost in there for hours, perhaps a day —no more because dehydration doesn't seem to have made a noticeable appearance in the man's body.

The expression of wonder with which the man looks at the canteen once he has stopped drinking —and capped it again just as Ace did— has the younger man thinking that he is kind of cute. In a sort of sexually assaulting way because Ace has not forgotten that incident with the kiss. Perhaps the man doesn't understand the existence of personal boundaries? Or maybe what he doesn't understand is the sexual meaning of such an act? His behavior so far, kiss aside, has been so innocent that it could very well be the case.

"Hey," this time he catches the man's attention. He is sure the other doesn't know that word has no other purpose aside from that, but apparently the blond is no longer so transfixed that he is ignoring Ace.

He takes the cans once more and shows them to the man, who lowers his head —he is still firmly holding the canteen in one hand— to look closely at them. He is curious, Ace notes, but there doesn't seem to be nearly as much confusion or fascination on the man's face as there was with the canteen or the knife, which makes Ace think he at least knows it is food.

That's progress, in Ace's mind.

The blond raises a hand and, hesitantly, takes a slice of tomato. Ace has to resist the urge to scoff when the man simply examines it and makes no sign of going to eat it. He reminds himself that it probably isn't the other's fault and he can't get angry with him. Instead, Ace takes a slice of tomato himself and, attracting the other's attention with another 'hey', eats it.

Again, the man understands and does the same. An undecipherable expression takes over his face for a moment before a corner of his mouth goes up in a small smile.

Before the same stupid process can happen with the sausages, Ace takes a few bits and eats them to demonstrate that they are perfectly edible and there is nothing wrong with them.

They begin to eat dinner in silence —it's not as if they could start a conversation— and Ace is glad to note that, at the speed the man eats, he will be perfectly capable of eating what he wants without having to start a silent argument or open a new can of anything. He takes the time to discreetly look at the man when he seems to be more distracted.

The blond is a little taller than Ace, that is something he noticed during their walk back to camp, but Ace would say his shoulders are somewhat broader than the man's. The other is muscular like Ace, but the boy would hazard a guess that he has a little more muscle than the blond, especially on the arms, though the difference isn't very noticeable. This all means his pants will probably be a little short for the man, but it probably won't be even noticeable because they are shorts that reach right above Ace's knees, and the shirt will be the slightest bit loose —and Ace's shirts are loose on him to begin with. The problem, Ace soon notices, will be the shoes. Because the man's feet are clearly bigger than Ace's —he would guess one or two numbers— and there is no way he'll be able to wear Ace's spare boots.

When they are done no food is left in neither of the cans, and Ace collects them, stands up and goes to throw them into the almost full garbage bag he has against the wall furthest from the fire. He keeps it tied, and he has to open and then close it again.

The man hasn't moved, he is still following Ace's movements with his gaze, and it is proof of Ace's self-confidence that it doesn't make him feel too uncomfortable. Because the man's eyes, despite being half lidded most of the time, are intense, and give the impression to be looking straight into one's soul.

He goes to his backpack and searches for his only remaining clean clothes —he is annoyed at the realization that now he will have to do the laundry sooner than he had planned. And he refuses to admit Sabo might have been right and he should have brought some underwear.

Walking back to the seat-rocks, he hands the pants and shirt to the man. The blond stares at them, and then he stares at Ace.

Oh, shit, this is NOT happening.

If he thought the incident with the canteen had been absurd, it had only been because he hadn't experienced this.

Luckily, before he can say or do anything, the man reaches over and takes the offered clothes. Ace sighs. He probably had just been confused that Ace is lending him clothes.

The blond separates them, taking the shirt in one hand and the pants in the other. He stands up and leaves the pants on the rock to hold now the shirt in both hands. He looks at Ace —and the look definitely doesn't last too long— before moving to put the shirt on. It takes some awkward maneuvering and more than one absurd miss, but he finally succeeds and the fabric is correctly draped, buttons open, around his torso.

Ace belatedly realizes the confusion might have been because the man, as just demonstrated, has some trouble dressing himself and is used to getting help to do it.

Guilt creeping back in and making him feel like a heartless bastard, Ace wonders if he should help the other button it down, but discards the idea because they will soon go to sleep and Ace himself prefers to sleep with his shirt open. Instead, he goes to take the pants from the rock and looks at the man.

"Sit," he says, pointing to the other rock.

Perhaps he is used to that sort of command, or simply recognizes it from before, but once again the man does as he is told and sits down.

Ace kneels before him —and he refuses to think how close he is to the uncovered dick of a hot guy who kissed him not long ago— and takes one of the man's legs. Or he tries, because the other doesn't seem willing to cooperate. Ace pulls, but the man keeps it down —and, damn, he is strong— and Ace raises his head to glare at him. The blond isn't glaring, but he looks at Ace with mistrust clear in his eyes.

The younger man sighs, lets go of the leg and raises the hand with which he holds the shorts up for the other to see.

"I gotta put this on you!" he growls, pointing at the man with his free index finger. There's no sign of comprehension, of course, and Ace sighs.

He runs his free hand through his hair, sighs a second time, and decides to try again.

Looking once more at the man's face, what he knows to be an expression of infinite patience on his own —the one he uses when he is forced to help Luffy with homework— he tries to explain.

"I have to get this," he points to the pants, "on you," now he points to the man's bare legs, "like this," and last, his finger points to his own shorts-clad legs.

The blond leans his head to the side, Ace holds back the urge to sigh again or hit his head on something —remember math, remember math— and repeats the process a second time.

After the third repetition, the blond nods and, much to Ace's surprise and satisfaction, raises the leg Ace had tried to lift before. Getting the man's legs into the shorts' legs is a matter of moments after that, but now arrives the difficult part.

"Stand up," he says, and he shouldn't have been surprised when his only answer is a confused tilt of the head. "Stand up," he says again, this time doing so himself as he speaks to show the man what he means. It's not enough, and he tries to gesture with his hands, moving his fingers in the universal 'come' gesture as he repeats his command, but it doesn't seem to be working.

Instead, Ace sits on the other rock and, while he stands, says the order again. He does so once more, and then the man finally nods and obeys.

Ace swallows.

He walks closer to the blond and, refusing to look anywhere but his hands, he crouches down in a hurried movement. Then he fixes his eyes on the man's bare feet as he takes the fabric pooled around them and hurriedly pulls it up, never looking right in front of his face. He stands up as soon as he has the shorts' waist firmly held around the man's hips, and hurries to zip and fasten them into place. They seem to fit well, and that is good because Ace has no spare belt to lend him.

Letting go of the shorts, Ace finally looks at the man's face and is surprised to realize he wasn't looking down to see what Ace's hands are doing, as he has done with everything else. Instead, the blond is looking at Ace directly. And there is not a smirk on the blond's face. Because Ace refuses to admit that the man's expression is a smirk, and much less one that looks suspiciously like one that would accompany a very perverted sexual innuendo.

The guy isn't right on the head, that much has been established, and it is laughable that he doesn't know how to put some pants on but can understand the concept of sex. And so, Ace turns away —and he is not blushing— and goes to get the sleeping bag.

Which bring another problem to attention.

He only has one sleeping bag.

Memories of his time camping with his brothers come to his mind and the solution presents itself. There was more than one time they only had one sleeping bag —that happens when you have a crazy grandfather who wants you to 'become strong' and dumps the three of you in the middle of the forest with the equipment necessary for only one person— and they always spread it out on the ground and covered themselves with their only blanket. That is what they will do, and this time Ace has a spare space blanket, which means they can have one each and he won't have to worry about getting his cover stolen. Sleeping with Luffy teaches you the valuable lesson of separate covers, the brat always manages to hog the blanket for himself.

Ace takes the necessary items from his backpack and leaves them on the free space of the ground that is wide enough for his plan. Once everything is ready, he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the tedious task that will no doubt be coaxing the man onto the sleeping bag.

To his surprise, the blond isn't sitting on the rock anymore, and instead he is kneeling by the fire and adding some firewood to the flame that had dwindled considerably. Ace is startled, and is about to physically drag the man away from the campfire when he realizes the amount of wood the man has in his arms is the right one to get the fire back to how it was when Ace started it, nothing more.

So maybe the man does have some survival skills. That is a relief to know.

"Hey," he says once the man is done, and the blond raises his head to look at him, "come here."

Of course, the other doesn't understand, and Ace tries again, signaling him and then tracing a path with his finger that ends right next to him. It is a system that seems to work well with the other man, and it only takes four repeats for the other to stand up and walk over to him. For a moment, Ace had half feared the man would try to cross right across the fire instead of edging around it. It's good to know he is not as clueless as Ace first thought.

"Lie down," he says, pointing at the spread stretching bag. Then, Ace walks around it, to the side he will occupy, and sits down. As he drops on his back, he repeats, "lie down."

This one is simple enough that there is no need for Ace to repeat himself, as the man follows right after him.

Blue eyes open wide, and the blond sits, though it's more like a jump, up. Ace does as well, looking at him with worry, but before he can uselessly ask if anything is wrong, he notices the other is looking down at their makeshift mattress. He is running a hand over it, and that expression of wonder is right back on the man's face as he not only touches, but caresses, the fluffy surface.

Once again, the strangeness of everything hits Ace right on the face. The man knows how to keep a fire going but acts as if a flimsy and worn sleeping bag is the greatest wonder he has ever seen.

Shrugging, he is too tired to keep pondering what the fuck is wrong with the man, Ace kicks his boots off, unfastens his belt pouch from around his waist, follows with his belt and empties his pockets, leaving everything to the side of the sleeping bag, between it and the cave wall.

Next to him, the man has also left the canteen to the side of the bag —and it's just now that Ace notices he hadn't let go of it— and lies down again, this time on his side facing Ace and a hand still running over the blue surface of the sleeping bag.

Ace stretches an arm over where his head will be once he lies down again and takes the two blankets he has left folded there. He hands one over, and is preparing himself to explain how it works when the man, after just a moment of examining it, unfolds it and throws it over himself.

Apparently he knows what a blanket is.

His job done for him, Ace lies down and covers himself as well, moving onto his side to use an arm as a pillow.

"Good night," he whispers, earning a confused look. He grins, overwhelmed by the absurdity of what can't have been more than two hours, and receives a small grin back.

Ace wakes up to clear sunlight entering through the entrance of the cave, the fire no longer burning and an empty sleeping bag. For a half asleep moment he entertains the possibility that last night was just a bizarre dream, but he would never have slept this way if he had been alone.

He sits up, and a look around proves the man isn't in the cave.

Ace curses.

He turns to the side, moves to put his boots on and hurries to stuff everything back in his pockets, put his belt back on and then wrap his belt pouch around his waist. He stands up and doesn't bother to put everything away before going for the entrance. The strange man has his clothes, and his second canteen because it's nowhere to be seen, and Ace won't be happy if the guy has decided to ignore the fact that he has no shoes and just wander off.

Ace stops on his tracks right outside the cave entrance. The blond is there, a fire with a somewhat flat and wide stone covering most of it and a dead animal —it looks like a squirrel— half-grilled on top of it. Ace wonders how the man managed to dress it. A quick glance around reveals, next to the blond, his open and bloodied Swiss army knife. Ace checks his pockets to see that it really isn't there. He was in such a hurry to get out that he hadn't noticed it missing. Idiot.

The man looks up at him and smiles. Ace smiles back, because that almost cooked there is breakfast and his annoyance is fading quickly.

Then the man raises a hand —Ace notices it's bloodied, no doubt from the squirrel— and points to the space next to where he is keeping an eye on the food.

"Sit."

Ace chuckles, because it is now obvious his efforts reached the man are working, and raises a hand, palm pointed outward.

"Wait," he says, and hurries inside. He digs into his backpack until he finds one of the dish towels Sabo stuffed in there and a tin cup. He goes to the water carrier that is half empty and fills the second item.

He walks outside.

This time he sits next to the man, leaves the objects on the ground and reaches out to the man with one hand.

"Give me your hand," at the confused look, he points to one of the man's hands. "Hand," and shakes his in an impatient gesture that is more brusque than how he really feels.

The other raises the signaled hand hesitantly, and Ace takes hold of it. With his free hand, he dips one end of the towel into the water inside the cup, and then uses the wet cloth to rub at the blood. It takes a while, the blood having already dried, and by the time the blond's hands are clean the meat is almost cooked and the water in the cup looks more like dissolved blood than water.

The man nods at him, a smile on his lips, and Ace takes it as a 'thank you'.

Ace nods back and picks the blade up, proceeding to wipe it out of blood as well. Careful inspection, however, shows it will take some time, and he leaves it to the side when the blond leans over the meat, nodding. Ace intercepts the man's hand before he can take the still bloody Swiss blade, and instead pulls out his pocket knife and hands it over.

It takes some effort with the small blade, but soon Ace finds himself holding three quarters of the squirrel. The blond just smiles at him when Ace gives the man a puzzled look at the distribution of the meat and takes a bite of his portion.

The boy shrugs and takes a huge bite.

The man has just proved he has some very useful skills.

To be continued