Work Text:
It had been less than a day since Marco had pulled Deuce out of the infirmary and up to the main deck, nearly shoving him toward Ace and Striker and all but ordering him to tag along and use some of his stockpiled free time while the Second Division Commander went ahead of the Moby to scout out the island they intended to resupply at.
Deuce had felt a strange combination of delight and embarrassment at that. A whole day with Ace, back on the Striker just like they’d done after Sixis, the pair of them simply sailing and exploring. Embarrassment brutally followed, both from being literally pulled from his shift in the infirmary and from the way Marco’s eyes pointedly shifted toward Ace as he made his orders. Ace had been oblivious, of course, grinning brightly and tossing Deuce’s old bag at him, full of a change of clothes and plenty of snacks.
He’d wondered if maybe Ace had packed for himself and then shoved everything into Deuce’s bag by mistake, but then he noticed the brown leather of his journal in its proper place in the back pocket, and his chest warmed at the sight.
“Let’s go!” Ace declared cheerfully, jumping off the railing and down to the Striker with surprising grace, and Marco met Deuce’s gaze with an expression that practically screamed ‘Figure your shit out or I’ll tell him for you.’
He didn’t stick around long enough to test that threat. And if Ace had to reach out and practically catch him when he stumbled on the landing and nearly fell off the Striker and into the sea, well. He shot a rude gesture up at Marco, Thatch and Izou snickering at his sides, and then they were off in a burst of Ace’s flames.
This particular island wasn’t one under Whitebeard’s protection, but they were friendly enough to pirates who paid for their goods and didn’t start undue trouble. It figured there was a marine ship at the port, but if they minded their own business and did as Marco suggested in taking a night off, everything should be fine. Marco had shoved enough money at him for dinner (even enough for Ace’s appetite) and for a double room at one of the inns.
He didn’t take into account the fact that Ace tended to run toward trouble, and coupled with the fact that he seemed to recognize the marine vessel, Deuce found himself sneaking around the docks in the middle of the night rather than relaxing or catching up on well-deserved sleep.
“This is a terrible idea,” he hissed, watching Ace jump up onto the marine ship with ease and grabbing for his hand when he turned to help him clamber aboard. Ace flashed a white grin his way, and the moment Deuce was secure on his feet he turned to slip across the deck, peeking in a few porthole windows before he reached for a doorknob. Deuce grumbled and hurried to catch up before Ace could disappear into the depths of the ship and leave him all alone, and the smile he got in return was warm and proud and he did not blush at the attention. “What are we even doing here? I’m pretty sure raiding a marine ship wasn’t what Marco had in mind when he told us to scout and relax.”
“It’s just a bit of fun,” Ace whispered, leading the way down a darkened hall, counting the doors they passed before turning sharply through one, and Deuce was mildly surprised but mostly bemused to find them standing in the ship’s galley. He raised an eyebrow and leveled a glare, and Ace pouted. “Don’t give me that look, we’re just taking all the rice crackers and getting out.”
That was oddly specific. “And why would we do that?”
“‘Cause I haven’t had a chance to screw with my Shitty Gramps in like two years?” Ace said, clearly trying to sound innocent.
“This is Garp’s ship?!” Deuce nearly yelped, and an unnaturally warm hand landed over his mouth and oh, that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Ace was standing close to his side, and when Deuce met his gaze he found a gleam in his eye, the younger man smirking.
“In and out,” he whispered, palm lingering over Deuce’s lips for another second before releasing him and moving confidently toward the secured cabinets. “Got your bag?”
Lucky he’d eaten all the snacks he’d packed on the trip to the island. Deuce huffed and threw it at him. Ace grinned as he caught it and pulled sleeves of rice crackers from the cabinets with unerring accuracy. There was quite a bit more than Deuce had been expecting, but Ace was done soon enough and returning to Deuce’s side in the doorway where he’d been anxiously half-watching for a marine patrol.
“Can we go now?”
“One more stop,” Ace murmured, and Deuce opened his mouth to protest but Ace’s hand took hold of his and squeezed, warmth running up his arm as Ace gently led him deeper into the ship. The room they entered was an office, an enormous desk in the middle of the space, and snoring that could rival Pops’s was ringing from the attached cabin. Deuce shot Ace a horrified look and the commander ginned, mischief in his eyes without a hint of concern. He tiptoed over to the desk, shot a rude gesture at the door the snoring was coming from, and then rifled through the desk to shove four more sleeves of crackers into Deuce’s bag.
He only stepped forward when Ace’s finger lit up in flames to match the spark in his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” Deuce hissed, darting forward as quietly as he could to watch Ace scorch a charred black spade into the wooden desktop before surrounding it with an outline of flickering fire.
“Aaaaaand done,” Ace nearly sang under his breath, keeping an eye on the desk for another moment to make sure it wouldn’t catch fire before sliding a stack of paperwork over to make it slightly less noticeable without hiding it completely. Then he grabbed onto Deuce’s hand again, beginning to pull him back around the desk and toward the door. “Okay, now we can go.”
The snoring stopped. Both pirates froze, exchanging wide-eyed looks as the previous rumbling was replaced by a snort and a huff, followed by annoyed grumbles.
“...who’s startin’ a bonfire a’ this time o’ night…?” a loud voice muttered, and Ace grabbed Deuce’s hand and yanked him toward the window, luckily a proper one rather than the usual porthole. Even more lucky, Garp’s office was over the dock instead of the sea, so Deuce didn’t have to worry about supporting Ace’s weight and swimming them both back to shore.
“Go, go,” Ace hissed, shoving the window open and urging Deuce through. There was the sound of movement from the other room, and Deuce dropped down onto the dock heavily, catching his bag as Ace threw it out before jumping himself, his back turning to flame to avoid the large hand that reached out after him. Deuce barely caught a glance of the Vice Admiral’s furious expression before Ace grabbed his hand, yelped ‘Run!’, and all but dragged him along as he hauled ass down the docks and back toward town.
“Brat!” Garp hollered after them, and then they were around the corner and crossing the village, Deuce breathlessly pointing at the inn he’d spotted earlier when they first arrived, and Ace got them a room as he fought to catch his breath. He should have been surprised or embarrassed to find only a single large bed rather than two, but there was still adrenaline shooting through him from their escape and all he could do was drop onto the mattress and laugh hysterically.
“You’re insane,” he finally gasped out, raising his hands to wipe at his face, and Ace huffed and dropped down onto the bed at his side, fiddling with one of the sleeves of stolen rice crackers.
“You love me,” Ace replied with an abundance of confidence and a cheeky grin, and Deuce’s heart sped up in a way that had nothing to do with their recent escape from an angry Vice Admiral.
“Not right now I don’t,” he said, quieter than he’d intended, and some of the humor left Ace’s expression while all of the fondness remained.
“Yeah, you do,” Ace whispered, abandoning the crackers to roll onto his side and brace his weight on one elbow to look down at Deuce.
“Yeah, I do,” he murmured agreeably, not remotely concerned about essentially just confessing to Ace. It was true, and he was still giddy from their stupid little adventure and running and laughing, and he wanted Ace to know. “I’ll definitely kill you if your grandpa comes after us, though.”
“Noted,” Ace acknowledged, and it looked like he might say more, so Deuce shut him up in the only way he could think of, cupping a hand around the back of Ace’s neck and pulling him down until he could seal their lips together. Ace sighed almost immediately, his free hand rising to hold onto Deuce’s hip in a tight grip, warm and steady and entirely perfect.
It would definitely be an adventure worth writing about later, if only for the way it ended, but for the time being Deuce’s journal laid forgotten in his bag by the door, along with all the stolen rice crackers.