Ace/Zoro smut fic
May. 3rd, 2006 04:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Visitation
Pairing: Ace/Zoro
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7,780
Warning: This story contains elements of masochism and creative uses for blood. If this bothers you, don't read. Cross-posted to adultff.net
Skimming rapidly across the water, the freckled young man hummed absently as he steered his skiff with subtle shifts of body weight. He was still intent on finding his quarry – he would make that bastard pay – but with the latest sightings placing Blackbeard leagues away from his current location, Ace figured taking a few hours off wouldn’t harm his hunt. Besides, once he headed off after his former crewmate he’d be gone from this section of the Grand Line for an uncertain amount of time. His little brother and his crew had already vanished from the wild stretches of the ocean once. Not taking advantage of their relative closeness and known port now would have been a waste of future time. The random low buzz of melody trailed off as a sudden grin curled smirking lips. This was going to be fun.
An extra burst of flame soon had the rolling green hills of Rheine Island appearing on the horizon line and Ace hooked a thumb under his belt and contemplated how to make his entrance. Luffy always did appreciate a spectacle and that long-nosed boy and the reindeer would certainly enjoy it if he suddenly burst into view. There weren’t any marines near enough that he needed to worry about attracting attention and the swordsman would probably be glad for the warning. Although, and his chuckle was low and just a little devious, it would be more fun to just pounce the green-haired boy and wake him up that way. But Zoro probably wouldn’t like that and then he would lose out on at least half of his fun and one of the main purposes of his unexpected visit.
His brother’s ship still wasn’t in sight when he was jolted out of his musings by the first body. The man was dead, the cause a vertical slice that spilled intestines and other bits that should have been inside out and over his stomach. Gulls pecked at the corpse, squabbling for room on the body and on the narrow bit of wood that kept him from sinking below the surface of the waves. Ace slowed long enough to nudge the planks with a booted toe, sending feathered scavengers up into the air and the bit of human flotsam to a watery grave. The body gave him brief pause but he shook his head and sent his flames back through the turbines of his boat once more. Just because the dead man had met his fate recently, and from an obvious blade wound, did not mean it had anything to do with the Straw Hat pirates.
There was a great deal of debris in the water as he drew nearer to his destination, but he saw no more bodies until the faintest hint of the Going Merry Go’s ridiculous figurehead could be made out along the coastline. Weaving among splintered remains, he came across two more men lashed together across a barrel. Their heads were down, blood trickling down from a temple wound on one of them, and he took them both for dead as well until the scruffy brown-haired one stirred and looked at him with muddled eyes.
“What happened friend?” Ace asked easily, noting that the other body lived too; the faintest rise and fall of chest occasionally visible in the water.
It took a while for the man to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times before a cough shook him, sent tiny wavelets out from the barrel. He spat a mixture of blood and clouded phlegm into the sea, licking at cracked lips while he seemed to gather his thoughts. Then, looking up at Ace with grey eyes fogged with pain and the apparent confusion of a concussion, he managed to croak out a few words.
“He was a d-demon. Nobody should move that fast without a devil’s fruit. Shoulda known better. Just ‘cause he was all alone didn’t mean we could take on somebody with that high a bounty.”
Ace cocked his head to one side, studying the injured man silently for a long moment. Either a fellow pirate or a bounty hunter he decided, and either way not worth his time. He uttered a flat “thank you,” then he began to move on towards the Going Merry, halting only when the desperate voice behind him cracked with the volume of the sudden plea.
“Wait, ain’t you gonna help us? We’re gonna die out here if we don’t get to shore.”
Though his tone was friendly and he smiled, the look Ace gave could not be construed as anything but a pitying contempt.
“I’ll give you some advice. That, friend, should be of use if you do happen to live. This is the Grand Line. Approaching strange individuals who are all alone, especially when they have bounties on their heads, is a good way to get yourself killed. It’s especially not wise to aggravate them.”
He let the fire behind his eyes blaze, flames flickering across his shoulders as he turned and powered his skiff forward, the sudden “SHIT!” behind him wringing out a dry laugh before his smile vanished into a hard line. Zoro was powerful, no doubt about it, but he hadn’t thought his brother’s swordsman had quite reached this level of destruction yet. He had no time to deal with some low-level scum who didn’t have the sense not to tangle with their betters. A faint line of worry furrowed his brow and he paid no heed to the other remains of what had to be a destroyed ship floating around him nor the few other bodies or groaning individuals he passed. There was stretch of relatively cleaner ocean for the last half mile or so – an added puzzle - and then he was within easy sight of Luffy’s grinning jolly roger fluttering in the gentle breeze. He hailed the vessel with a loud “Yo!” expecting to see Zoro’s grumpy countenance soon leaning over the rail to grab his mooring line.
But nothing stirred on the deck of the Going Merry as he drew abreast of the small craft, and Ace frowned at the silence. Other than a few circling sea birds and the constant slapping of the waves all was quiet and still, a distinct contrast to the usual conditions on his brother’s ship. Leaping easily up to perch on the white-painted wood, he held his mooring rope in one fist as he scanned the decks for any sign of Zoro or his brother. To his mixed feelings of relief, the green-haired swordsman wasn’t anywhere to be seen; nor anyone else, for that matter. Traces of the battle remained though. There were blood spatters near his own position, a ragtag pile of what were obviously pocket contents heaped near the mast, and a scrub brush and bucket up near the stern where there were still several rather gruesome traces of gore waiting to be cleaned. Ace tipped his hat off to dangle along his back and ran a hand through the dark tangle of his hair, tugging on a strand as he laughed at himself. If the lazy swordsman had managed to scavenge and dump the bodies already and had moved on to ridding the other traces of his fight from the ship then he was definitely fine.
“Oi! Zoro!”
He waited expectantly for the younger pirate to pop out of the galley or for the hatch leading down below the deck to slide ajar but the unusual stillness about the ship remained. Shrugging, Ace hopped down onto the deck and swiftly secured his mooring line. Maybe Zoro had taken a blow to the head and he couldn’t hear. Or, more than likely, he had gone somewhere to sleep and was snoring loudly enough that he was drowning out all other sound. The commander of Whitebeard’s second fleet straightened and stretched, taking a moment to peer up at the cloudless sky and note the time from the sun before he strode the few yards across the small deck to the door of the galley. He was in luck, really. Zoro was apparently without the company of the rest of the Straw Hats. The sooner he found and roused the other man, the more hours he’d have to store in his memory for the long and lonely hours he spent alone during his search for Blackbeard.
The galley door shrieked on its hinges as he opened it and he poked his head around it with a wince still on his face. But Zoro was not napping at the trestle table, booze in hand and swords by his side. Other than the pantry door being ajar and a box of powdered soap sitting on the counter, the galley was empty and as sparkling clean as he remembered the blond cook keeping it. The icebox, white and gleaming, tugged at him, his bare stomach voicing a complaint at its lack of contents to the barren room. Just a quick snack, he told himself. Sanji wouldn’t begrudge him a sandwich or two.
Four minutes, two sprung mousetraps, a swiftly devoured drumstick, and two towering sandwiches leaning precariously on a plate later, Ace exited the galley, closing the noisy door with his heel. No wonder Roronoa wasn’t napping in there. Those hinges would have woken anyone, even himself in the midst of one of his narcoleptic fits, with the way they squealed. That left the range of rooms below deck as possible snoozing places for the swordsman. He paused his search long enough to toe through the meager spoils his brother’s nakama had salvaged, grinning as he pictured the fiery navigator throwing all of it overboard as trash while Zoro condemned her to the lowest reaches of hell. The younger boy would never fully repay a debt that, as far as he knew, wasn’t even technically valid. Nami would have him in her thrall forever.
Moving away from the few berries and odds and ends Ace, somewhat awkwardly with his plate and one of the sandwiches between his teeth, juggled his food and pried up the hatch. Peering into the shadows, he called out for the swordsman once more, Zoro’s name mangled by the hunk of ham, cheese, and lettuce on his tongue. Again silence was his only reply, and Ace rolled his shoulders in acceptance. There was still plenty of time, and now that he had some food, his other hunger had receded a bit as well. Not bothering to disguise his landing, he dropped with an audible thud into the room. Zoro wasn’t in any of the hammocks nor was he sprawled out on the beat-up green couch, but two of his swords rested against the well-used piece of furniture.
Swallowing down the last of his first sandwich, Ace padded across the room, taking in the faint smell of sword polish lingering in the air and the funny little white puffball on a stick still resting between the couch cushions. Zoro couldn’t have been gone from the room for too long since he could still detect the pungent oil scent. And, in what Ace took as a hopeful sign, with both the items still on deck and his sword materials still out on the couch, the swordsman likely wasn’t expecting his crewmates back any time soon either. He set down the remaining sandwich and plate on the couch to save for later. Then, grinning, Ace let a flame dance on the tip of his finger, the tiny flicker enough to illuminate the pre-existing shadows and cast new ones about the room. Roronoa wasn’t slumped against a wall or snoozing in any corners and so the freckled pirate made his way to the door.
In the narrow hallway underneath the deck, Zoro’s location suddenly became apparent. Between the muted sounds of running water and the trail of discarded clothing that littered the way to the closed door, it was clear that the swordsman was in the bathroom. Flame still resting on his fingertip, Ace picked his way over a pair of worn black boots, stepped over the signature haramaki, and kicked the bloodstained white shirt off to the side. Stopping in front of the closed door, he strained his ears, listening for any hint of the swordsman underneath the dull thunder of water. Detecting none, he reasoned that it was equally likely Zoro had no idea he was standing there. A mischievous smile curved his mouth as he snuffed his fire, hand going for the doorknob instead of raising to knock.
His first impulse was to throw the door open but Ace thought better of that after a brief moment of consideration. Roronoa’s white sword had been missing from the bunkroom. That meant the blade was with him and the mera mera user did not fancy having it stuck through his torso, even if it would only be for a second or two before he transformed and healed the damage. Besides, taking Zoro by surprise would only make the swordsman grumpy and a grumpy Zoro was a Zoro that was harder to coax into bed. Instead the older pirate opted to sneak a peek first. It wouldn’t hurt to scope out his prey’s mood after all and he might get lucky and manage to see something interesting. Years of practice had honed Ace’s skulking skills – Makino had sharp hearing and Luffy had always been alert for any hint of adventure – and he pulled the doorknob just slightly toward his body before he turned it. Between his precaution and the continued muted roar of the shower there was no hint of noise as the door catch slipped free. He let the door fall open naturally, a tiny slit opening that gave him just enough room to get a good look at the opposite corner of the bathroom.
The Going Merry had only the one bathroom and it was still open plan like those found on larger ships. The shower and bathtub, a luxury that many other vessels lacked, were combined but there was still a drain in the middle of the tiled floor as well. As a result of this plumbing placement, there was no need for a shower curtain or other protective barrier. The Straw Hats still had one, however, because of the presence of the ladies and because they only had the one toilet. Still, most of the time the boys never bothered with it and, Ace was pleased to note, Zoro had left it open. From his limited peephole he could see most of the toilet and the back half of the shower. A towel and the white sword lay on top of the toilet seat and the ugly orange shower curtain was shoved back against the wall, obscuring only the full name of whatever brand of shampoo was sitting at that corner of the tub. Sadly he couldn’t see the swordsman beyond an occasional flash of tanned skin, but he could hear him and the noises Roronoa was making most certainly captured his attention.
Over the sound of the falling water came erratic pants for breath interspersed with strained grunts. Once or twice Ace was pretty sure he also heard the familiar slap of skin on skin and even, though he was sure the other pirate would deny it if confronted, a pleased whimper. These were sounds he knew well, having dragged them from the swordsman’s throat and drank them off his tongue on previous occasions. Zoro didn’t make noise if he could help it and the fiery pirate had taken great pride in determining just what it would take to pull sounds from him. If Roronoa was so vocal now, was it because he believed he was all alone or because he was that far gone into whatever it was he was doing? Ace’s fingers tightened around the knob as his imagination began to toss up all sorts of possible scenarios to go with the intriguing gasps and muffled groans coming from the shower. Before he revealed his presence, he decided he wanted to see, get more than just an auditory glimpse of the green-haired boy he’d come to visit.
With a careful nudge, Ace widened the slit he’d opened into a thin gap. And then dark eyes drank in the sight before them, widening slightly as the full extent of what the swordsman was doing became known. He’d suspected that Zoro was masturbating for all of the sounds he had heard had pointed squarely in that particular direction. That assumption had been correct; Roronoa’s tanned and sword-roughened left hand was wrapped around his cock, moving over the hard, flushed flesh with punishing strokes. Hard and fast and right on the razor-thin edge between pain and pleasure, the pace was just where Ace knew the swordsman liked it best. But it wasn’t even the sight of the younger pirate, face tinted pink over the sun kissed bronze of his skin, pleasuring himself that most captured his appreciative gaze.
Water from the showerhead pounded down in a continuous rain, clear until it ran across the swordsman’s skin. Zoro had decidedly taken a few hits during the earlier conflict. Scratches for the most part, there was a bigger gash beneath his collarbone and another, even deeper, wound on his right thigh. Thanks to the spray, or perhaps the actual depth of the cuts themselves, they bled continuously and shaded the water that rolled down the pirate’s body close to true scarlet especially below his thigh. Roronoa’s right hand was there, fingertips reaching into the jagged, gaping, red rawness of his flesh. As Ace stared, mouth opening just the slightest to allow his tongue the freedom to wet suddenly dry and thirsty lips, Zoro pulled his dripping crimson fingers free. Slick with blood, they left a trail that vanished quickly under the onslaught of the shower, a disappearing path over the remaining undamaged expanse of his thigh and around the muscular curve of his ass.
The flame that burned continuously just beneath the thin shell of his skin flared in reaction to Roronoa’s latest action and to the sudden wave of lust that threatened to sweep him away. Ace managed to dampen his fire, to keep it from doing any damage beyond a sudden ripple in the previously smooth brass metal of the doorknob but he couldn’t bite back the low growl of desire that rumbled up and out of his throat. Eyelids flew open to reveal startled, hard jade, the still-bloody hand nearly to the pristine white hilt before Zoro managed to stop himself. He stared at the intruder while Ace grinned at him unabashedly and rubbed a hand once across the bulge that had sprung up in his newly too-tight shorts.
“Didn’t think you were quite that much of a masochist but I guess I’m not surprised.”
Zoro grunted in response, straightening from the defensive crouch he’d dropped into at Ace’s noise. He moved farther under the fall of water, rinsing the blood from his fingers and letting it continue to wash it from his open wounds as he glared at the dark-haired man. The older pirate didn’t miss the speculation lurking under the veneer of anger Roronoa had thrown up upon his intrusion and he cocked one hip forward so that the waistband of his shorts rode lower, slipped off to reveal the brown jut of his hipbone. He raised a coal eyebrow and let his smile get even wider as he toyed with the medallion from his hat hanging against his bare chest; every action a clear indication of his intentions. Silence hung between them, heavy and measuring and Ace’s impatience was barely restrained by his good manners as Zoro gave him a final once-over and snorted.
“I’d ask what the hell you’re doing here but I think I can guess.” He ran a hand back through his hair, fingers combing it into damp spikes. “And yes I’m that much of a damned masochist and if you think you’re man enough to handle it then you can get the fuck in here. Otherwise you can either shut the hell up and watch or you can get the hell out.”
Watching had a certain amount of appeal, Ace had to admit as his hand dropped from his chest to his belt buckle, but he had come here for another reason. It wasn’t every time that Zoro was so eager to have him either, and it would be completely stupid of him to pass up this chance. He was out of his shorts and boots in record time, glad once again that his devil’s fruit power enabled him to comfortably go about wearing only what was necessary to fulfill the barest requirements of decency. The door closed behind him and he turned the lock as he shot a smug look at the waiting swordsman. Zoro just shook his head and beckoned him closer. “Don’t forget about your hat,” and Ace was only just able to free it from its rest down his back before fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged him up against the heated enamel side of the tub. A fine mist bounced off the tile and Roronoa’s body to land on his own; hot but not as hot as the touch of Zoro’s skin, as the fire he kept barely restrained inside. Green eyes bore into his own, the swordsman’s expression suddenly going feral, teeth bared as he stared challengingly across the few inches still separating them.
“Like what you saw?”
His free hand moved almost of its own accord, grazing over Zoro’s side and stopping just shy of the weeping tear across his thigh. Ace returned the hard look evenly, his face unchanging as he dipped a single fingertip into Roronoa’s wound. The man’s blood, surprisingly, was cooler than the surface of his skin and it was thick with clotting agent when he rubbed it thoughtfully against his thumb. Finally, still letting Zoro hold his gaze, he raised the stained digits to his mouth and tasted. The swordsman was all metal; copper and iron mostly but with a cleaner edge of steel underneath the mixture. His fire had an affinity for the harder elements and previous samples of Zoro’s life fluid had only made it hungry for more. There would be no problem, no hesitation in experiencing it again. Roronoa dropped his eyes after that, dark grin still plastered across his face as he attacked the log post still bound to his wrist, and Ace took advantage of the younger man’s distraction to reach out once more.
Curious fingers slipped into the opening on his thigh and he pressed them down carefully, slowly. The gash was deeper than he would have preferred to mess with on someone who didn’t have a devil fruit given power to help heal, his fingertips going in well past the first joint before they finally hit muscle tissue. That jerked a hiss from the swordsman and Ace shot him a quick glance, amused and a tiny bit relieved to see that his eyes had slitted shut and his mouth worked soundlessly. It was pleasure that contorted Zoro’s face rather than pain and the older pirate marveled at that. Stitches would certainly be necessary if he couldn’t convince Roronoa to let him cauterize it and yet the swordsman wasn’t bothered by the wound in the slightest. Indeed, he was actually exploiting it for his own gratification. It was one of the reasons he was so fond of his brother’s first crewmember, even if he wasn’t quite so open about his own tendencies as Zoro was. He didn’t have to hold much back with the younger pirate and, while it wasn’t the same kind of complete release as he got with his other somewhat frequent bed partner, there was something to be said about the kind of control Roronoa let him have. Gently he pulled his fingers free a second time, brazenly licking them clean as the swordsman let out a strangled moan and finally fumbled the log post off his wrist.
The unique compass was tossed aside to land on the towel, glass clinking against the naked blade of the white sword and then Ace put all thought of it from his mind as he moved to take the swordsman’s mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. He was met with parted lips and that terribly clever tongue, Zoro wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer. And fuck there was nothing quite like the first touch of cock to cock; Ace let Zoro swallow down his gasp, his hands catching hold of the younger man’s hips for balance as he blindly stepped into the tub and pressed that firm, slick body into the tiled wall. The water from the shower, well-filtered sea water that was as close to fresh as the ship’s pumps and Usopp’s inventive modifications could make it, tugged at his power and he let more of the flame free in response, fighting it back until the only weakness remaining in him came solely from the fingers weaving up into his hair, the heated flesh digging into his stomach, the lean, tan line of Zoro’s throat as he let his head fall to one side, baring himself and inviting Ace’s teeth with a sly narrowing of his eyes.
Always obliging, Ace ducked his head and lapped at the beads of water trailing down the swordsman’s jaw before he nipped lightly at the strong column of his neck, moving south to attack one finely toned shoulder. Zoro’s breath was moist, steamy against his ear as he panted, Ace biting down with enough pressure to immediately raise a welt. He sucked at it, intent on leaving behind more evidence of his visit than just some missing food, and his knee slid easily between parting thighs as Zoro bucked against his hip. He caught Zoro’s lips again once he was sure he would leave a bruise, the hand on Zoro’s right thigh trailing lower to caress him just above the freely bleeding wound. That earned him another thrust against his leg and then the younger pirate shifted his weight to his left side, angling so that Ace’s fingers slipped lower and for a third time into his body.
Slippery and not quite as hot as he kept expecting and the feeling of Zoro there was hard to describe, the swordsman jerking against him only when he actually exerted pressure. Curious now and impossibly even more aroused, Ace snagged one of the dangling gold drops between his lips, tugging it to make sure he had Roronoa’s attention. “Does it hurt when I do this? Feel the same as flame, as steel biting into your skin?” he asked, his voice husky as he murmured against the younger man’s neck.
Zoro groaned as Ace curled his fingers again, biting at the round of his shoulder in reaction. “Fuck, since when did you care? Just hurry up already.”
“Since now and,” Ace smirked as he pulled away to get a clear look at the other pirate’s face, “I’ll take care of you as soon as you answer my questions.”
“Jackass. I should kick you out right now for that.” Roronoa was all drenched indignation and if he hadn’t moved the flame wielder’s other hand from his hip to his cock, Ace might have taken his words for an actual threat. As it was, he gave the swordsman one tight stroke, sliding his thumb teasingly over his head as he carefully pressed down into the wound again. Zoro’s skull thumped back against the wall, a low wet noise falling from his mouth before he managed to cut it off. His eyes were dark, pupils wide and dilated, when he finally managed to open them again. There was resignation underneath his scowl and Ace smiled encouragingly.
“It’s not quite the same,” he muttered finally. “Not really like that at all.” Green brows knit as Zoro actually appeared to think about the question and he grew still, his sudden concentration enticing the older pirate to do the same. “Kind of hard to explain if you’ve never really felt it for yourself. There’s…hmm…you know how some people kill themselves in the bathtub?”
Ace nodded, confusion flickering briefly across his features as he looked more intently into the swordsman’s face. Suicide and sex didn’t exactly add up to a balanced equation in his mind. Zoro caught the look and frowned, socked him lightly just below his bottom rib.
“Idiot. I don’t mean anything like whatever your stupid head is thinking. People who kill themselves in a bathtub do it because they’re afraid of pain. Water takes out the initial sting. That place you’re touching doesn’t really hurt that much.”
“It doesn’t?” Ace glanced down at the freely bleeding injury, at his own fingers resting comparatively far inside. He pursed his lips at the amount of blood still streaming down the swordsman’s leg, making a red-tinged whirlpool as it swirled down the drain.
“No. It probably won’t even hurt too much later. Damn thing’ll itch like a bastard once it starts to scab over though and then it’ll be fun to mess with again.”
“Mmm, so why have me touch you there? You got a blood fetish to go along with the masochism?” Not that Ace was objecting seeing as how attractive he was finding it, but he liked to know about his bed partners’ kinks. It got him laid more often if he was properly attentive.
Zoro colored and knew it, glaring at the older pirate as if daring him to say anything about it. “You ever play around with seastone?” he finally retorted, seeming to avoid the question.
“Occasionally, yeah.”
“And, if I understand how that shit works, if there’s enough of it around, you devil’s fruit users just get kind of boneless and floaty and heavy and weak all at the same time?”
“You could describe it that way,” Ace said thoughtfully, considering what Roronoa had said. Seastone was odd, almost as strange as falling into the ocean. He stayed fully alert in the substance’s presence but his body was unresponsive in many ways. Too, being long accustomed to his fire, the pure reactions of just his flesh were unfamiliar and sometimes as overpowering as being unbridled flame.
“So you already get it. You’re just too dumb to know it.” Calloused fingers closed over Ace’s wrist easing his hand from Zoro’s thigh and pulling it up to rest across the deep furrow that split his chest. The swordsman slid his own hand back down, dipping back into scarlet while his eyes slipped shut. A small wrinkle of concentration appeared between them as he spoke slowly. “Blood loss, of the right amount, makes me a little light-headed. Like being a bit tipsy but with better muscle control. Feels fucking good to get off like this; the battle rush is still going too and the two feelings fight against each other and make everything else that much more…here.”
Those green eyes flickered open, defiance written in them as Zoro swiped his other hand over the cut across his upper chest. “As for the rest of it, so what if I like it? You got a problem, you don’t have to be in here. Besides, I forgot to grab anything before I came in so what else was I gonna do?”
Fire-bright eyes blinked at those last words and the sharp explosion of laughter came out before Ace could stop it. “Too lazy or too into it to stop for a minute and go find some lube, hmm Roronoa?” he teased just to watch the swordsman huff. “And what about the soap? You’re in the bathroom so it’s not like it it’s not right at hand.”
“Shut up asshole.” Zoro gave the freckled pirate a very pointed one finger salute, gaze flicking briefly away to watch the crimson liquid trail down over the back of his hand. “This works better and you know it. Thicker and it’s the right damn kind of slippery. Besides, the soap we have now’s got grit and other shit in it. It was cheap and the witch wouldn’t spring for more. You DON’T want to know what might happen if you touched her flowery crap either.”
Shuddering in response, Ace nodded. His brother’s navigator was a hard woman in many ways and it didn’t pay to mess with her. He’d learned that lesson when he had tried to strike a bargain with her in the Alabastan desert and barely got away with the robe on his back. “All right, I’ll take your word for it. This time at least.”
The punch Zoro aimed at him was half-hearted at best and he let it glance off his chest with a small chuckle. The swordsman was beginning to bristle, puffed up with a distinct air of impatience as he kicked at the other pirate’s ankle. Ace moved to cut the mood off before the younger man could annoy himself out of what could still be a good time, stroking him firmly until the tense shoulders sagged and he slumped back against the tiles with a muttered “You done talking now?”
Roronoa was clearly finished with his surprisingly candid explanations and a part of Ace was flattered that the younger pirate would choose to actually humor him. He wouldn’t push any more. Besides, his own body was encouraging him to shut the hell up and finish what he had come to the Going Merry to do in the first place. Ace leaned over to catch the tempting golden drops between his teeth again, curling his tongue over the backings. “Hell yes,” he murmured around his mouthful as the swordsman arched into his fist.
That was the type of reaction he wanted and he nibbled on the bits of ear he could reach to try and draw out more. Ace ghosted his hand along the length of Zoro’s scar, teasing the more sensitive skin to either side of the long mark and grinned against the swordsman’s cheek when the younger pirate let out a poorly stifled moan. Rough hands worked over his back, clutched at his hip when he pressed more of himself against the other’s body; the contact, the heat, the heady feel of bare slick skin moving so easily against his own fanning the flames he kept in check.
His tongue burned like a brand when he moved his mouth lower to taste the blood that spilled from the wound on Zoro’s chest, earned him a drawn out noise that came from somewhere deep in the swordsman’s throat. Wherever his lips touched, bathing lightly in copper-flavored red, the skin beneath them pinkened, turned to white at the edges as he seared the injury, transformed it from the mark of an enemy into one of his own. Roronoa shivered beneath him, blunt fingernails digging in at every hot, wet swipe and his thighs spread further until most of his weight was resting on Ace’s leg.
Every last trace of blood there was lapped up, leaving behind damage that would heal faster and hurt more in the process. Ace swallowed down the final few drops, let his fingers dance across the bottom end of Zoro’s scar, slid them lower across the dip where his leg met his torso. He stopped right above the other wound, light contact still enough to redden the swordsman’s skin from the heat. The younger pirate almost seemed to hold his breath, anticipation clear in the sudden contraction of his muscles and Ace waited with a broad grin for Zoro to open his eyes.
They did so; blinking at his expression before he got the frustrated snarl he was waiting for. “Bastard, I’m not going to ask you for it. I can take care of my own damn self.”
The grip he had still had on Zoro’s cock kept the swordsman from yanking away but he did change his stance, balancing back on his own two feet. Ace straightened, pulled his leg free from its cage between the other man’s. “You don’t have to ask. Just wanted to make sure I had your undivided attention before I did this.”
As the last word left his lips the freckled second shifted, hands moving to close over Zoro’s shoulders before he tugged, spinning the pirate around so that his front was directed into the shower spray. The swordsman’s arms shot out, palms slapping against the drier surface of the wall beneath the showerhead as he fought for balance.
“What the he-mmf!” It was too much fun to manhandle the green-haired young man, take the upper hand physically in a way he seldom got to with his marine. Zoro’s somewhat militant upbringing showed at the oddest moments, Ace reflected as he made a very good attempt at shoving his tongue down the swordsman’s throat and wasn’t instantly thrown on his ass. Respect for his elders, for a person with superior skills, even if it was grudging, had been clearly beaten into his skull during his formative years. He’d noticed the slight deference in Alabasta, had exploited it just a bit if he was honest with himself. Hell, he was trusting that habit to keep the other pirate from kicking him out of the room.
Zoro met him with equal force, parrying his oral tricks with sneaking, stroking fingers and the judicious use of teeth. Respect had to be earned and Ace meant to have it again as he blazed a trail down the swordsman’s body with a burning fingertip. He dampened his heat just in time, remembering about the need for lubrication. And Roronoa stiffened and then softened, putting his hand back on the wall and letting Ace nibble on his lower lip as the fire user carefully coated his fingers.
Gold chimed beneath the falling water as Zoro bowed his head and pressed back against Ace’s eager flesh for just a moment before he smiled tightly from underneath the curve of his arm and planted his feet. He was tight beneath the hot, searching fingers but he’d been right about the blood. It worked much better than soap, clung to his skin, thick and sticky-slick. The swordsman took to being stretched with silence, just like every other time, and his stoic attitude was belied only by the slight shifts of his hips whenever Ace had to draw away. He could have drawn the process out, teased Zoro the way he sometimes did when he wanted to coax more noise from him, but his cock was seriously beginning to protest the lack of attention.
With a small shrug of his shoulders – after all, a little more certainly wouldn’t cause any harm – he stroked a red-stained palm over his neglected erection and pressed forward. There would be bruises later on Zoro’s left hip, oval imprints to match the fingertips of Whitebeard’s second as Ace gripped the swordsman punishingly. For a few moments all he knew was sensation; the constricting heat of Roronoa’s body as he pushed in steadily, the tightness in his own chest as he held his breath to keep control. And then Zoro moved back, taking him fully with an eager growl. Ace tossed his head, soaked bangs flying, and held the swordsman still. His right hand drifted lower, teased at the tender edges of the still-bleeding wound. “Shall I?” he asked, focusing his fire more intently there.
Zoro shifted restlessly and the older pirate watched his hands open and close against the tiled wall. “Yeah,” he finally muttered. “May as well. Otherwise Chopper’ll smell it and nag after me.”
Ace hummed in response and let his power surge. There was a surprised gasp from Zoro and then the green-haired man began to move. This time Ace let him, thrusting back as his fire licked at injured flesh and transformed it. Fucking Roronoa was always such an interesting task; his attention torn in a way it wasn’t with anyone else. He wasn’t free to burst completely into flames whenever the urge hit him but neither did all of his focus need to be on controlling his power. It was another fine line – like the one between Zoro’s pleasure and pain - a balancing act between his own urges and the safety of the swordsman.
The air in the shower, already heavy with heat and moisture, thickened as they moved. Tiny tendrils of flame burst into existence on freckled shoulders, flared once or twice across Zoro’s skin and earned the older pirate his noise. The water hissed from time to time as it hit Ace, turning into steam and enveloping the room in a haze. It was surreal in a way, and the fiery pirate lost himself to it. His eyes slipped shut, the memory of Roronoa jerking himself off painting itself across the red-black canvas of his eyelids, and, though blind, he knew the exact moment Zoro took his hand off the wall and moved it to his long-waiting cock.
They were both panting as they drove for the end, harsh breaths of air mingling with the occasional strangled moan as Ace saw to Zoro’s wound. He was almost finished with it when he turned up his heat a final time. A finger hot enough to make metal pliant dragged up the length of the seared cut, and Zoro shouted, his body clamping down around the older pirate. Ace sank his teeth into the back of the younger man’s neck while he waited it out, finishing in only three more strokes once he was free to move.
He let the swordsman take most of his weight as he sagged against the broad, solid back and nuzzled absently at the bite mark he’d just left. Zoro put up with his lazy affections for a minute or two before he tilted his head up into the spray. “Gonna let me finish my shower now?”
“I guess. You still planning on letting me watch?”
That earned him a snort and a good-natured clout to his shoulder as Zoro pulled away and ran careful fingers over his changed skin. Nearly purple-brown against the usual tan, the burn mark stood out in as stark a contrast as the open, bleeding gash had before it. A quiet hiss worked its way out of Zoro’s mouth as he touched his hip before he turned a pleased smile on Ace. “Not a bad job. You can stay if you want.”
After giving a half-mocking bow the freckled pirate jostled the swordsman aside, taking his place under the showerhead. The last few traces of red washed from his body and he tilted his head back with a well-satisfied sigh. Coming to visit his brother’s ship had definitely been worth it. But there was still something nagging at him…
“Ne, Zoro,” he muttered, watching with hooded eyes as the swordsman ran a bar of soap down one well-muscled arm. “What the hell did you do to their ship?”
“Mmm? The hell are you – oh, that.” Zoro nonchalantly began soaping his other arm, shaking his head slightly as he recalled what Ace was referring to. “Bunch of idiots, that lot. I even TOLD them not to fire but they didn’t listen.”
Stepping out of the water, Ace snagged one of the fluffy, ugly towels off the rack and wrapped it about his waist. He made an encouraging noise, in part to get the swordsman to elaborate and partly in appreciation as Roronoa bent over to wash his feet and ankles.
“They had an enormous cannon mounted on their main deck, some design I hadn’t seen before. Anyway, as soon as it was clear they would fire on me if I won here, I decided to take the fight to them.” Zoro grinned at the memory, moving more directly under the water. “Once I was on their ship, the first thing I did was slice the damn thing. Either they didn’t see me or else they didn’t believe I really did it. So I took care of a bunch of them and when they started getting scared, I came back to the Merry.”
“I see.” And he did, privately amused that he was already stirring under his towel just from watching the swordsman dip a hand between his cheeks to make sure he was clean. “So,” Ace cleared his throat, brought his gaze up to meet Zoro’s knowing green one. “I take it they fired anyway.”
“Yeah, and blew themselves out of the water. Like I said, they were stupid.” Zoro turned off the water and snagged his towel out from under his sword. He scrubbed at his hair, earrings jangling.
“Yeah,” Ace murmured in agreement, thinking about the bodies, living and dead, which he’d left in his wake.
Silence sprang up between them for a bit as Zoro finished drying off and Ace gathered up his hastily removed clothing and tried not to stare. Once had been fun but he still had a long journey stretching out in front of him and few prospects besides his hand to take care of certain needs. Finally Roronoa picked up his white sword and gave Ace a sidelong glance. “You going now or are you planning on sticking around? Luffy and everybody else should be back in a few hours.”
A few hours sounded good. Time enough for a nap and, if he was lucky, another shower. Besides, who was he to pass up Sanji’s cooking? Ace smiled and shifted his belongings until he had one arm free. “I can probably stay for a little while. I made myself a sandwich earlier that I still haven’t finished.”
Zoro’s stomach rumbled faintly at the mention of food and the younger man flushed over his scowl. “You better stay. You can tell the crap cook it was you who raided his damn kitchen.”
“I’ll go one better than that.” He reached out and poked Roronoa’s stomach teasingly, fingers skimming up to graze over the burn he’d left on the swordsman’s chest. “I’ll even share.”
“Always were politer than your brother.” Zoro mumbled, knocking his hand away.
“That I am,” Ace agreed. With a cocky wink, he unlocked the door and threw it open. The warm air of the bathroom was sucked out into the cooler hall and he took pleased note of the result the sudden temperature drop had on Zoro’s flesh. “After you,” he said, gesturing towards the corridor.
There was a sigh of mingled exasperation and amusement and then Roronoa complied. Ace, humming softly, followed him closely down the hall towards the men’s cabin and managed to keep his fingers to himself almost every time the swordsman bent over to retrieve his abandoned clothing.
Pairing: Ace/Zoro
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7,780
Warning: This story contains elements of masochism and creative uses for blood. If this bothers you, don't read. Cross-posted to adultff.net
Skimming rapidly across the water, the freckled young man hummed absently as he steered his skiff with subtle shifts of body weight. He was still intent on finding his quarry – he would make that bastard pay – but with the latest sightings placing Blackbeard leagues away from his current location, Ace figured taking a few hours off wouldn’t harm his hunt. Besides, once he headed off after his former crewmate he’d be gone from this section of the Grand Line for an uncertain amount of time. His little brother and his crew had already vanished from the wild stretches of the ocean once. Not taking advantage of their relative closeness and known port now would have been a waste of future time. The random low buzz of melody trailed off as a sudden grin curled smirking lips. This was going to be fun.
An extra burst of flame soon had the rolling green hills of Rheine Island appearing on the horizon line and Ace hooked a thumb under his belt and contemplated how to make his entrance. Luffy always did appreciate a spectacle and that long-nosed boy and the reindeer would certainly enjoy it if he suddenly burst into view. There weren’t any marines near enough that he needed to worry about attracting attention and the swordsman would probably be glad for the warning. Although, and his chuckle was low and just a little devious, it would be more fun to just pounce the green-haired boy and wake him up that way. But Zoro probably wouldn’t like that and then he would lose out on at least half of his fun and one of the main purposes of his unexpected visit.
His brother’s ship still wasn’t in sight when he was jolted out of his musings by the first body. The man was dead, the cause a vertical slice that spilled intestines and other bits that should have been inside out and over his stomach. Gulls pecked at the corpse, squabbling for room on the body and on the narrow bit of wood that kept him from sinking below the surface of the waves. Ace slowed long enough to nudge the planks with a booted toe, sending feathered scavengers up into the air and the bit of human flotsam to a watery grave. The body gave him brief pause but he shook his head and sent his flames back through the turbines of his boat once more. Just because the dead man had met his fate recently, and from an obvious blade wound, did not mean it had anything to do with the Straw Hat pirates.
There was a great deal of debris in the water as he drew nearer to his destination, but he saw no more bodies until the faintest hint of the Going Merry Go’s ridiculous figurehead could be made out along the coastline. Weaving among splintered remains, he came across two more men lashed together across a barrel. Their heads were down, blood trickling down from a temple wound on one of them, and he took them both for dead as well until the scruffy brown-haired one stirred and looked at him with muddled eyes.
“What happened friend?” Ace asked easily, noting that the other body lived too; the faintest rise and fall of chest occasionally visible in the water.
It took a while for the man to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times before a cough shook him, sent tiny wavelets out from the barrel. He spat a mixture of blood and clouded phlegm into the sea, licking at cracked lips while he seemed to gather his thoughts. Then, looking up at Ace with grey eyes fogged with pain and the apparent confusion of a concussion, he managed to croak out a few words.
“He was a d-demon. Nobody should move that fast without a devil’s fruit. Shoulda known better. Just ‘cause he was all alone didn’t mean we could take on somebody with that high a bounty.”
Ace cocked his head to one side, studying the injured man silently for a long moment. Either a fellow pirate or a bounty hunter he decided, and either way not worth his time. He uttered a flat “thank you,” then he began to move on towards the Going Merry, halting only when the desperate voice behind him cracked with the volume of the sudden plea.
“Wait, ain’t you gonna help us? We’re gonna die out here if we don’t get to shore.”
Though his tone was friendly and he smiled, the look Ace gave could not be construed as anything but a pitying contempt.
“I’ll give you some advice. That, friend, should be of use if you do happen to live. This is the Grand Line. Approaching strange individuals who are all alone, especially when they have bounties on their heads, is a good way to get yourself killed. It’s especially not wise to aggravate them.”
He let the fire behind his eyes blaze, flames flickering across his shoulders as he turned and powered his skiff forward, the sudden “SHIT!” behind him wringing out a dry laugh before his smile vanished into a hard line. Zoro was powerful, no doubt about it, but he hadn’t thought his brother’s swordsman had quite reached this level of destruction yet. He had no time to deal with some low-level scum who didn’t have the sense not to tangle with their betters. A faint line of worry furrowed his brow and he paid no heed to the other remains of what had to be a destroyed ship floating around him nor the few other bodies or groaning individuals he passed. There was stretch of relatively cleaner ocean for the last half mile or so – an added puzzle - and then he was within easy sight of Luffy’s grinning jolly roger fluttering in the gentle breeze. He hailed the vessel with a loud “Yo!” expecting to see Zoro’s grumpy countenance soon leaning over the rail to grab his mooring line.
But nothing stirred on the deck of the Going Merry as he drew abreast of the small craft, and Ace frowned at the silence. Other than a few circling sea birds and the constant slapping of the waves all was quiet and still, a distinct contrast to the usual conditions on his brother’s ship. Leaping easily up to perch on the white-painted wood, he held his mooring rope in one fist as he scanned the decks for any sign of Zoro or his brother. To his mixed feelings of relief, the green-haired swordsman wasn’t anywhere to be seen; nor anyone else, for that matter. Traces of the battle remained though. There were blood spatters near his own position, a ragtag pile of what were obviously pocket contents heaped near the mast, and a scrub brush and bucket up near the stern where there were still several rather gruesome traces of gore waiting to be cleaned. Ace tipped his hat off to dangle along his back and ran a hand through the dark tangle of his hair, tugging on a strand as he laughed at himself. If the lazy swordsman had managed to scavenge and dump the bodies already and had moved on to ridding the other traces of his fight from the ship then he was definitely fine.
“Oi! Zoro!”
He waited expectantly for the younger pirate to pop out of the galley or for the hatch leading down below the deck to slide ajar but the unusual stillness about the ship remained. Shrugging, Ace hopped down onto the deck and swiftly secured his mooring line. Maybe Zoro had taken a blow to the head and he couldn’t hear. Or, more than likely, he had gone somewhere to sleep and was snoring loudly enough that he was drowning out all other sound. The commander of Whitebeard’s second fleet straightened and stretched, taking a moment to peer up at the cloudless sky and note the time from the sun before he strode the few yards across the small deck to the door of the galley. He was in luck, really. Zoro was apparently without the company of the rest of the Straw Hats. The sooner he found and roused the other man, the more hours he’d have to store in his memory for the long and lonely hours he spent alone during his search for Blackbeard.
The galley door shrieked on its hinges as he opened it and he poked his head around it with a wince still on his face. But Zoro was not napping at the trestle table, booze in hand and swords by his side. Other than the pantry door being ajar and a box of powdered soap sitting on the counter, the galley was empty and as sparkling clean as he remembered the blond cook keeping it. The icebox, white and gleaming, tugged at him, his bare stomach voicing a complaint at its lack of contents to the barren room. Just a quick snack, he told himself. Sanji wouldn’t begrudge him a sandwich or two.
Four minutes, two sprung mousetraps, a swiftly devoured drumstick, and two towering sandwiches leaning precariously on a plate later, Ace exited the galley, closing the noisy door with his heel. No wonder Roronoa wasn’t napping in there. Those hinges would have woken anyone, even himself in the midst of one of his narcoleptic fits, with the way they squealed. That left the range of rooms below deck as possible snoozing places for the swordsman. He paused his search long enough to toe through the meager spoils his brother’s nakama had salvaged, grinning as he pictured the fiery navigator throwing all of it overboard as trash while Zoro condemned her to the lowest reaches of hell. The younger boy would never fully repay a debt that, as far as he knew, wasn’t even technically valid. Nami would have him in her thrall forever.
Moving away from the few berries and odds and ends Ace, somewhat awkwardly with his plate and one of the sandwiches between his teeth, juggled his food and pried up the hatch. Peering into the shadows, he called out for the swordsman once more, Zoro’s name mangled by the hunk of ham, cheese, and lettuce on his tongue. Again silence was his only reply, and Ace rolled his shoulders in acceptance. There was still plenty of time, and now that he had some food, his other hunger had receded a bit as well. Not bothering to disguise his landing, he dropped with an audible thud into the room. Zoro wasn’t in any of the hammocks nor was he sprawled out on the beat-up green couch, but two of his swords rested against the well-used piece of furniture.
Swallowing down the last of his first sandwich, Ace padded across the room, taking in the faint smell of sword polish lingering in the air and the funny little white puffball on a stick still resting between the couch cushions. Zoro couldn’t have been gone from the room for too long since he could still detect the pungent oil scent. And, in what Ace took as a hopeful sign, with both the items still on deck and his sword materials still out on the couch, the swordsman likely wasn’t expecting his crewmates back any time soon either. He set down the remaining sandwich and plate on the couch to save for later. Then, grinning, Ace let a flame dance on the tip of his finger, the tiny flicker enough to illuminate the pre-existing shadows and cast new ones about the room. Roronoa wasn’t slumped against a wall or snoozing in any corners and so the freckled pirate made his way to the door.
In the narrow hallway underneath the deck, Zoro’s location suddenly became apparent. Between the muted sounds of running water and the trail of discarded clothing that littered the way to the closed door, it was clear that the swordsman was in the bathroom. Flame still resting on his fingertip, Ace picked his way over a pair of worn black boots, stepped over the signature haramaki, and kicked the bloodstained white shirt off to the side. Stopping in front of the closed door, he strained his ears, listening for any hint of the swordsman underneath the dull thunder of water. Detecting none, he reasoned that it was equally likely Zoro had no idea he was standing there. A mischievous smile curved his mouth as he snuffed his fire, hand going for the doorknob instead of raising to knock.
His first impulse was to throw the door open but Ace thought better of that after a brief moment of consideration. Roronoa’s white sword had been missing from the bunkroom. That meant the blade was with him and the mera mera user did not fancy having it stuck through his torso, even if it would only be for a second or two before he transformed and healed the damage. Besides, taking Zoro by surprise would only make the swordsman grumpy and a grumpy Zoro was a Zoro that was harder to coax into bed. Instead the older pirate opted to sneak a peek first. It wouldn’t hurt to scope out his prey’s mood after all and he might get lucky and manage to see something interesting. Years of practice had honed Ace’s skulking skills – Makino had sharp hearing and Luffy had always been alert for any hint of adventure – and he pulled the doorknob just slightly toward his body before he turned it. Between his precaution and the continued muted roar of the shower there was no hint of noise as the door catch slipped free. He let the door fall open naturally, a tiny slit opening that gave him just enough room to get a good look at the opposite corner of the bathroom.
The Going Merry had only the one bathroom and it was still open plan like those found on larger ships. The shower and bathtub, a luxury that many other vessels lacked, were combined but there was still a drain in the middle of the tiled floor as well. As a result of this plumbing placement, there was no need for a shower curtain or other protective barrier. The Straw Hats still had one, however, because of the presence of the ladies and because they only had the one toilet. Still, most of the time the boys never bothered with it and, Ace was pleased to note, Zoro had left it open. From his limited peephole he could see most of the toilet and the back half of the shower. A towel and the white sword lay on top of the toilet seat and the ugly orange shower curtain was shoved back against the wall, obscuring only the full name of whatever brand of shampoo was sitting at that corner of the tub. Sadly he couldn’t see the swordsman beyond an occasional flash of tanned skin, but he could hear him and the noises Roronoa was making most certainly captured his attention.
Over the sound of the falling water came erratic pants for breath interspersed with strained grunts. Once or twice Ace was pretty sure he also heard the familiar slap of skin on skin and even, though he was sure the other pirate would deny it if confronted, a pleased whimper. These were sounds he knew well, having dragged them from the swordsman’s throat and drank them off his tongue on previous occasions. Zoro didn’t make noise if he could help it and the fiery pirate had taken great pride in determining just what it would take to pull sounds from him. If Roronoa was so vocal now, was it because he believed he was all alone or because he was that far gone into whatever it was he was doing? Ace’s fingers tightened around the knob as his imagination began to toss up all sorts of possible scenarios to go with the intriguing gasps and muffled groans coming from the shower. Before he revealed his presence, he decided he wanted to see, get more than just an auditory glimpse of the green-haired boy he’d come to visit.
With a careful nudge, Ace widened the slit he’d opened into a thin gap. And then dark eyes drank in the sight before them, widening slightly as the full extent of what the swordsman was doing became known. He’d suspected that Zoro was masturbating for all of the sounds he had heard had pointed squarely in that particular direction. That assumption had been correct; Roronoa’s tanned and sword-roughened left hand was wrapped around his cock, moving over the hard, flushed flesh with punishing strokes. Hard and fast and right on the razor-thin edge between pain and pleasure, the pace was just where Ace knew the swordsman liked it best. But it wasn’t even the sight of the younger pirate, face tinted pink over the sun kissed bronze of his skin, pleasuring himself that most captured his appreciative gaze.
Water from the showerhead pounded down in a continuous rain, clear until it ran across the swordsman’s skin. Zoro had decidedly taken a few hits during the earlier conflict. Scratches for the most part, there was a bigger gash beneath his collarbone and another, even deeper, wound on his right thigh. Thanks to the spray, or perhaps the actual depth of the cuts themselves, they bled continuously and shaded the water that rolled down the pirate’s body close to true scarlet especially below his thigh. Roronoa’s right hand was there, fingertips reaching into the jagged, gaping, red rawness of his flesh. As Ace stared, mouth opening just the slightest to allow his tongue the freedom to wet suddenly dry and thirsty lips, Zoro pulled his dripping crimson fingers free. Slick with blood, they left a trail that vanished quickly under the onslaught of the shower, a disappearing path over the remaining undamaged expanse of his thigh and around the muscular curve of his ass.
The flame that burned continuously just beneath the thin shell of his skin flared in reaction to Roronoa’s latest action and to the sudden wave of lust that threatened to sweep him away. Ace managed to dampen his fire, to keep it from doing any damage beyond a sudden ripple in the previously smooth brass metal of the doorknob but he couldn’t bite back the low growl of desire that rumbled up and out of his throat. Eyelids flew open to reveal startled, hard jade, the still-bloody hand nearly to the pristine white hilt before Zoro managed to stop himself. He stared at the intruder while Ace grinned at him unabashedly and rubbed a hand once across the bulge that had sprung up in his newly too-tight shorts.
“Didn’t think you were quite that much of a masochist but I guess I’m not surprised.”
Zoro grunted in response, straightening from the defensive crouch he’d dropped into at Ace’s noise. He moved farther under the fall of water, rinsing the blood from his fingers and letting it continue to wash it from his open wounds as he glared at the dark-haired man. The older pirate didn’t miss the speculation lurking under the veneer of anger Roronoa had thrown up upon his intrusion and he cocked one hip forward so that the waistband of his shorts rode lower, slipped off to reveal the brown jut of his hipbone. He raised a coal eyebrow and let his smile get even wider as he toyed with the medallion from his hat hanging against his bare chest; every action a clear indication of his intentions. Silence hung between them, heavy and measuring and Ace’s impatience was barely restrained by his good manners as Zoro gave him a final once-over and snorted.
“I’d ask what the hell you’re doing here but I think I can guess.” He ran a hand back through his hair, fingers combing it into damp spikes. “And yes I’m that much of a damned masochist and if you think you’re man enough to handle it then you can get the fuck in here. Otherwise you can either shut the hell up and watch or you can get the hell out.”
Watching had a certain amount of appeal, Ace had to admit as his hand dropped from his chest to his belt buckle, but he had come here for another reason. It wasn’t every time that Zoro was so eager to have him either, and it would be completely stupid of him to pass up this chance. He was out of his shorts and boots in record time, glad once again that his devil’s fruit power enabled him to comfortably go about wearing only what was necessary to fulfill the barest requirements of decency. The door closed behind him and he turned the lock as he shot a smug look at the waiting swordsman. Zoro just shook his head and beckoned him closer. “Don’t forget about your hat,” and Ace was only just able to free it from its rest down his back before fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged him up against the heated enamel side of the tub. A fine mist bounced off the tile and Roronoa’s body to land on his own; hot but not as hot as the touch of Zoro’s skin, as the fire he kept barely restrained inside. Green eyes bore into his own, the swordsman’s expression suddenly going feral, teeth bared as he stared challengingly across the few inches still separating them.
“Like what you saw?”
His free hand moved almost of its own accord, grazing over Zoro’s side and stopping just shy of the weeping tear across his thigh. Ace returned the hard look evenly, his face unchanging as he dipped a single fingertip into Roronoa’s wound. The man’s blood, surprisingly, was cooler than the surface of his skin and it was thick with clotting agent when he rubbed it thoughtfully against his thumb. Finally, still letting Zoro hold his gaze, he raised the stained digits to his mouth and tasted. The swordsman was all metal; copper and iron mostly but with a cleaner edge of steel underneath the mixture. His fire had an affinity for the harder elements and previous samples of Zoro’s life fluid had only made it hungry for more. There would be no problem, no hesitation in experiencing it again. Roronoa dropped his eyes after that, dark grin still plastered across his face as he attacked the log post still bound to his wrist, and Ace took advantage of the younger man’s distraction to reach out once more.
Curious fingers slipped into the opening on his thigh and he pressed them down carefully, slowly. The gash was deeper than he would have preferred to mess with on someone who didn’t have a devil fruit given power to help heal, his fingertips going in well past the first joint before they finally hit muscle tissue. That jerked a hiss from the swordsman and Ace shot him a quick glance, amused and a tiny bit relieved to see that his eyes had slitted shut and his mouth worked soundlessly. It was pleasure that contorted Zoro’s face rather than pain and the older pirate marveled at that. Stitches would certainly be necessary if he couldn’t convince Roronoa to let him cauterize it and yet the swordsman wasn’t bothered by the wound in the slightest. Indeed, he was actually exploiting it for his own gratification. It was one of the reasons he was so fond of his brother’s first crewmember, even if he wasn’t quite so open about his own tendencies as Zoro was. He didn’t have to hold much back with the younger pirate and, while it wasn’t the same kind of complete release as he got with his other somewhat frequent bed partner, there was something to be said about the kind of control Roronoa let him have. Gently he pulled his fingers free a second time, brazenly licking them clean as the swordsman let out a strangled moan and finally fumbled the log post off his wrist.
The unique compass was tossed aside to land on the towel, glass clinking against the naked blade of the white sword and then Ace put all thought of it from his mind as he moved to take the swordsman’s mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. He was met with parted lips and that terribly clever tongue, Zoro wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer. And fuck there was nothing quite like the first touch of cock to cock; Ace let Zoro swallow down his gasp, his hands catching hold of the younger man’s hips for balance as he blindly stepped into the tub and pressed that firm, slick body into the tiled wall. The water from the shower, well-filtered sea water that was as close to fresh as the ship’s pumps and Usopp’s inventive modifications could make it, tugged at his power and he let more of the flame free in response, fighting it back until the only weakness remaining in him came solely from the fingers weaving up into his hair, the heated flesh digging into his stomach, the lean, tan line of Zoro’s throat as he let his head fall to one side, baring himself and inviting Ace’s teeth with a sly narrowing of his eyes.
Always obliging, Ace ducked his head and lapped at the beads of water trailing down the swordsman’s jaw before he nipped lightly at the strong column of his neck, moving south to attack one finely toned shoulder. Zoro’s breath was moist, steamy against his ear as he panted, Ace biting down with enough pressure to immediately raise a welt. He sucked at it, intent on leaving behind more evidence of his visit than just some missing food, and his knee slid easily between parting thighs as Zoro bucked against his hip. He caught Zoro’s lips again once he was sure he would leave a bruise, the hand on Zoro’s right thigh trailing lower to caress him just above the freely bleeding wound. That earned him another thrust against his leg and then the younger pirate shifted his weight to his left side, angling so that Ace’s fingers slipped lower and for a third time into his body.
Slippery and not quite as hot as he kept expecting and the feeling of Zoro there was hard to describe, the swordsman jerking against him only when he actually exerted pressure. Curious now and impossibly even more aroused, Ace snagged one of the dangling gold drops between his lips, tugging it to make sure he had Roronoa’s attention. “Does it hurt when I do this? Feel the same as flame, as steel biting into your skin?” he asked, his voice husky as he murmured against the younger man’s neck.
Zoro groaned as Ace curled his fingers again, biting at the round of his shoulder in reaction. “Fuck, since when did you care? Just hurry up already.”
“Since now and,” Ace smirked as he pulled away to get a clear look at the other pirate’s face, “I’ll take care of you as soon as you answer my questions.”
“Jackass. I should kick you out right now for that.” Roronoa was all drenched indignation and if he hadn’t moved the flame wielder’s other hand from his hip to his cock, Ace might have taken his words for an actual threat. As it was, he gave the swordsman one tight stroke, sliding his thumb teasingly over his head as he carefully pressed down into the wound again. Zoro’s skull thumped back against the wall, a low wet noise falling from his mouth before he managed to cut it off. His eyes were dark, pupils wide and dilated, when he finally managed to open them again. There was resignation underneath his scowl and Ace smiled encouragingly.
“It’s not quite the same,” he muttered finally. “Not really like that at all.” Green brows knit as Zoro actually appeared to think about the question and he grew still, his sudden concentration enticing the older pirate to do the same. “Kind of hard to explain if you’ve never really felt it for yourself. There’s…hmm…you know how some people kill themselves in the bathtub?”
Ace nodded, confusion flickering briefly across his features as he looked more intently into the swordsman’s face. Suicide and sex didn’t exactly add up to a balanced equation in his mind. Zoro caught the look and frowned, socked him lightly just below his bottom rib.
“Idiot. I don’t mean anything like whatever your stupid head is thinking. People who kill themselves in a bathtub do it because they’re afraid of pain. Water takes out the initial sting. That place you’re touching doesn’t really hurt that much.”
“It doesn’t?” Ace glanced down at the freely bleeding injury, at his own fingers resting comparatively far inside. He pursed his lips at the amount of blood still streaming down the swordsman’s leg, making a red-tinged whirlpool as it swirled down the drain.
“No. It probably won’t even hurt too much later. Damn thing’ll itch like a bastard once it starts to scab over though and then it’ll be fun to mess with again.”
“Mmm, so why have me touch you there? You got a blood fetish to go along with the masochism?” Not that Ace was objecting seeing as how attractive he was finding it, but he liked to know about his bed partners’ kinks. It got him laid more often if he was properly attentive.
Zoro colored and knew it, glaring at the older pirate as if daring him to say anything about it. “You ever play around with seastone?” he finally retorted, seeming to avoid the question.
“Occasionally, yeah.”
“And, if I understand how that shit works, if there’s enough of it around, you devil’s fruit users just get kind of boneless and floaty and heavy and weak all at the same time?”
“You could describe it that way,” Ace said thoughtfully, considering what Roronoa had said. Seastone was odd, almost as strange as falling into the ocean. He stayed fully alert in the substance’s presence but his body was unresponsive in many ways. Too, being long accustomed to his fire, the pure reactions of just his flesh were unfamiliar and sometimes as overpowering as being unbridled flame.
“So you already get it. You’re just too dumb to know it.” Calloused fingers closed over Ace’s wrist easing his hand from Zoro’s thigh and pulling it up to rest across the deep furrow that split his chest. The swordsman slid his own hand back down, dipping back into scarlet while his eyes slipped shut. A small wrinkle of concentration appeared between them as he spoke slowly. “Blood loss, of the right amount, makes me a little light-headed. Like being a bit tipsy but with better muscle control. Feels fucking good to get off like this; the battle rush is still going too and the two feelings fight against each other and make everything else that much more…here.”
Those green eyes flickered open, defiance written in them as Zoro swiped his other hand over the cut across his upper chest. “As for the rest of it, so what if I like it? You got a problem, you don’t have to be in here. Besides, I forgot to grab anything before I came in so what else was I gonna do?”
Fire-bright eyes blinked at those last words and the sharp explosion of laughter came out before Ace could stop it. “Too lazy or too into it to stop for a minute and go find some lube, hmm Roronoa?” he teased just to watch the swordsman huff. “And what about the soap? You’re in the bathroom so it’s not like it it’s not right at hand.”
“Shut up asshole.” Zoro gave the freckled pirate a very pointed one finger salute, gaze flicking briefly away to watch the crimson liquid trail down over the back of his hand. “This works better and you know it. Thicker and it’s the right damn kind of slippery. Besides, the soap we have now’s got grit and other shit in it. It was cheap and the witch wouldn’t spring for more. You DON’T want to know what might happen if you touched her flowery crap either.”
Shuddering in response, Ace nodded. His brother’s navigator was a hard woman in many ways and it didn’t pay to mess with her. He’d learned that lesson when he had tried to strike a bargain with her in the Alabastan desert and barely got away with the robe on his back. “All right, I’ll take your word for it. This time at least.”
The punch Zoro aimed at him was half-hearted at best and he let it glance off his chest with a small chuckle. The swordsman was beginning to bristle, puffed up with a distinct air of impatience as he kicked at the other pirate’s ankle. Ace moved to cut the mood off before the younger man could annoy himself out of what could still be a good time, stroking him firmly until the tense shoulders sagged and he slumped back against the tiles with a muttered “You done talking now?”
Roronoa was clearly finished with his surprisingly candid explanations and a part of Ace was flattered that the younger pirate would choose to actually humor him. He wouldn’t push any more. Besides, his own body was encouraging him to shut the hell up and finish what he had come to the Going Merry to do in the first place. Ace leaned over to catch the tempting golden drops between his teeth again, curling his tongue over the backings. “Hell yes,” he murmured around his mouthful as the swordsman arched into his fist.
That was the type of reaction he wanted and he nibbled on the bits of ear he could reach to try and draw out more. Ace ghosted his hand along the length of Zoro’s scar, teasing the more sensitive skin to either side of the long mark and grinned against the swordsman’s cheek when the younger pirate let out a poorly stifled moan. Rough hands worked over his back, clutched at his hip when he pressed more of himself against the other’s body; the contact, the heat, the heady feel of bare slick skin moving so easily against his own fanning the flames he kept in check.
His tongue burned like a brand when he moved his mouth lower to taste the blood that spilled from the wound on Zoro’s chest, earned him a drawn out noise that came from somewhere deep in the swordsman’s throat. Wherever his lips touched, bathing lightly in copper-flavored red, the skin beneath them pinkened, turned to white at the edges as he seared the injury, transformed it from the mark of an enemy into one of his own. Roronoa shivered beneath him, blunt fingernails digging in at every hot, wet swipe and his thighs spread further until most of his weight was resting on Ace’s leg.
Every last trace of blood there was lapped up, leaving behind damage that would heal faster and hurt more in the process. Ace swallowed down the final few drops, let his fingers dance across the bottom end of Zoro’s scar, slid them lower across the dip where his leg met his torso. He stopped right above the other wound, light contact still enough to redden the swordsman’s skin from the heat. The younger pirate almost seemed to hold his breath, anticipation clear in the sudden contraction of his muscles and Ace waited with a broad grin for Zoro to open his eyes.
They did so; blinking at his expression before he got the frustrated snarl he was waiting for. “Bastard, I’m not going to ask you for it. I can take care of my own damn self.”
The grip he had still had on Zoro’s cock kept the swordsman from yanking away but he did change his stance, balancing back on his own two feet. Ace straightened, pulled his leg free from its cage between the other man’s. “You don’t have to ask. Just wanted to make sure I had your undivided attention before I did this.”
As the last word left his lips the freckled second shifted, hands moving to close over Zoro’s shoulders before he tugged, spinning the pirate around so that his front was directed into the shower spray. The swordsman’s arms shot out, palms slapping against the drier surface of the wall beneath the showerhead as he fought for balance.
“What the he-mmf!” It was too much fun to manhandle the green-haired young man, take the upper hand physically in a way he seldom got to with his marine. Zoro’s somewhat militant upbringing showed at the oddest moments, Ace reflected as he made a very good attempt at shoving his tongue down the swordsman’s throat and wasn’t instantly thrown on his ass. Respect for his elders, for a person with superior skills, even if it was grudging, had been clearly beaten into his skull during his formative years. He’d noticed the slight deference in Alabasta, had exploited it just a bit if he was honest with himself. Hell, he was trusting that habit to keep the other pirate from kicking him out of the room.
Zoro met him with equal force, parrying his oral tricks with sneaking, stroking fingers and the judicious use of teeth. Respect had to be earned and Ace meant to have it again as he blazed a trail down the swordsman’s body with a burning fingertip. He dampened his heat just in time, remembering about the need for lubrication. And Roronoa stiffened and then softened, putting his hand back on the wall and letting Ace nibble on his lower lip as the fire user carefully coated his fingers.
Gold chimed beneath the falling water as Zoro bowed his head and pressed back against Ace’s eager flesh for just a moment before he smiled tightly from underneath the curve of his arm and planted his feet. He was tight beneath the hot, searching fingers but he’d been right about the blood. It worked much better than soap, clung to his skin, thick and sticky-slick. The swordsman took to being stretched with silence, just like every other time, and his stoic attitude was belied only by the slight shifts of his hips whenever Ace had to draw away. He could have drawn the process out, teased Zoro the way he sometimes did when he wanted to coax more noise from him, but his cock was seriously beginning to protest the lack of attention.
With a small shrug of his shoulders – after all, a little more certainly wouldn’t cause any harm – he stroked a red-stained palm over his neglected erection and pressed forward. There would be bruises later on Zoro’s left hip, oval imprints to match the fingertips of Whitebeard’s second as Ace gripped the swordsman punishingly. For a few moments all he knew was sensation; the constricting heat of Roronoa’s body as he pushed in steadily, the tightness in his own chest as he held his breath to keep control. And then Zoro moved back, taking him fully with an eager growl. Ace tossed his head, soaked bangs flying, and held the swordsman still. His right hand drifted lower, teased at the tender edges of the still-bleeding wound. “Shall I?” he asked, focusing his fire more intently there.
Zoro shifted restlessly and the older pirate watched his hands open and close against the tiled wall. “Yeah,” he finally muttered. “May as well. Otherwise Chopper’ll smell it and nag after me.”
Ace hummed in response and let his power surge. There was a surprised gasp from Zoro and then the green-haired man began to move. This time Ace let him, thrusting back as his fire licked at injured flesh and transformed it. Fucking Roronoa was always such an interesting task; his attention torn in a way it wasn’t with anyone else. He wasn’t free to burst completely into flames whenever the urge hit him but neither did all of his focus need to be on controlling his power. It was another fine line – like the one between Zoro’s pleasure and pain - a balancing act between his own urges and the safety of the swordsman.
The air in the shower, already heavy with heat and moisture, thickened as they moved. Tiny tendrils of flame burst into existence on freckled shoulders, flared once or twice across Zoro’s skin and earned the older pirate his noise. The water hissed from time to time as it hit Ace, turning into steam and enveloping the room in a haze. It was surreal in a way, and the fiery pirate lost himself to it. His eyes slipped shut, the memory of Roronoa jerking himself off painting itself across the red-black canvas of his eyelids, and, though blind, he knew the exact moment Zoro took his hand off the wall and moved it to his long-waiting cock.
They were both panting as they drove for the end, harsh breaths of air mingling with the occasional strangled moan as Ace saw to Zoro’s wound. He was almost finished with it when he turned up his heat a final time. A finger hot enough to make metal pliant dragged up the length of the seared cut, and Zoro shouted, his body clamping down around the older pirate. Ace sank his teeth into the back of the younger man’s neck while he waited it out, finishing in only three more strokes once he was free to move.
He let the swordsman take most of his weight as he sagged against the broad, solid back and nuzzled absently at the bite mark he’d just left. Zoro put up with his lazy affections for a minute or two before he tilted his head up into the spray. “Gonna let me finish my shower now?”
“I guess. You still planning on letting me watch?”
That earned him a snort and a good-natured clout to his shoulder as Zoro pulled away and ran careful fingers over his changed skin. Nearly purple-brown against the usual tan, the burn mark stood out in as stark a contrast as the open, bleeding gash had before it. A quiet hiss worked its way out of Zoro’s mouth as he touched his hip before he turned a pleased smile on Ace. “Not a bad job. You can stay if you want.”
After giving a half-mocking bow the freckled pirate jostled the swordsman aside, taking his place under the showerhead. The last few traces of red washed from his body and he tilted his head back with a well-satisfied sigh. Coming to visit his brother’s ship had definitely been worth it. But there was still something nagging at him…
“Ne, Zoro,” he muttered, watching with hooded eyes as the swordsman ran a bar of soap down one well-muscled arm. “What the hell did you do to their ship?”
“Mmm? The hell are you – oh, that.” Zoro nonchalantly began soaping his other arm, shaking his head slightly as he recalled what Ace was referring to. “Bunch of idiots, that lot. I even TOLD them not to fire but they didn’t listen.”
Stepping out of the water, Ace snagged one of the fluffy, ugly towels off the rack and wrapped it about his waist. He made an encouraging noise, in part to get the swordsman to elaborate and partly in appreciation as Roronoa bent over to wash his feet and ankles.
“They had an enormous cannon mounted on their main deck, some design I hadn’t seen before. Anyway, as soon as it was clear they would fire on me if I won here, I decided to take the fight to them.” Zoro grinned at the memory, moving more directly under the water. “Once I was on their ship, the first thing I did was slice the damn thing. Either they didn’t see me or else they didn’t believe I really did it. So I took care of a bunch of them and when they started getting scared, I came back to the Merry.”
“I see.” And he did, privately amused that he was already stirring under his towel just from watching the swordsman dip a hand between his cheeks to make sure he was clean. “So,” Ace cleared his throat, brought his gaze up to meet Zoro’s knowing green one. “I take it they fired anyway.”
“Yeah, and blew themselves out of the water. Like I said, they were stupid.” Zoro turned off the water and snagged his towel out from under his sword. He scrubbed at his hair, earrings jangling.
“Yeah,” Ace murmured in agreement, thinking about the bodies, living and dead, which he’d left in his wake.
Silence sprang up between them for a bit as Zoro finished drying off and Ace gathered up his hastily removed clothing and tried not to stare. Once had been fun but he still had a long journey stretching out in front of him and few prospects besides his hand to take care of certain needs. Finally Roronoa picked up his white sword and gave Ace a sidelong glance. “You going now or are you planning on sticking around? Luffy and everybody else should be back in a few hours.”
A few hours sounded good. Time enough for a nap and, if he was lucky, another shower. Besides, who was he to pass up Sanji’s cooking? Ace smiled and shifted his belongings until he had one arm free. “I can probably stay for a little while. I made myself a sandwich earlier that I still haven’t finished.”
Zoro’s stomach rumbled faintly at the mention of food and the younger man flushed over his scowl. “You better stay. You can tell the crap cook it was you who raided his damn kitchen.”
“I’ll go one better than that.” He reached out and poked Roronoa’s stomach teasingly, fingers skimming up to graze over the burn he’d left on the swordsman’s chest. “I’ll even share.”
“Always were politer than your brother.” Zoro mumbled, knocking his hand away.
“That I am,” Ace agreed. With a cocky wink, he unlocked the door and threw it open. The warm air of the bathroom was sucked out into the cooler hall and he took pleased note of the result the sudden temperature drop had on Zoro’s flesh. “After you,” he said, gesturing towards the corridor.
There was a sigh of mingled exasperation and amusement and then Roronoa complied. Ace, humming softly, followed him closely down the hall towards the men’s cabin and managed to keep his fingers to himself almost every time the swordsman bent over to retrieve his abandoned clothing.
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-04 06:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-06 01:12 am (UTC)I wish I could offer better advice/concrit, but since I'm one of those people who's bothered by creative uses for blood, I didn't read this the whole way through. I do mean to not suck ass at concrit, though, especially since you always give me such decent commentary.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-12 05:34 pm (UTC)I for one am... well let's put it this way, blood and pain are, I guess, a fetish of mine. This is totally up my street. A lot. A LOT a lot.
I'm really impressed because this caters to my likes, is VERY well written, in character, I think (or the way I'd see it happen), it's a very interesting take on a generic theme (I mean, this pairing isn't rare, and as much as I like it, this made reading worth it) and I LOVE it.
I would love to see more similar stuff like this from you but since it's not your usual style, I'll be happy to drool over this fic. :3
no subject
Date: 2008-12-12 05:36 pm (UTC)Either way I will gladly shower you with praise that makes up for the lack LOL
I LOVE THISSSS
no subject
Date: 2008-12-14 06:37 am (UTC)